Bennosuke
 Marcella was brought out of her little day-dream by the approach of a guard, his boyish features mostly visible though his full identity still hidden behind the visor.

Turning and looking at him, her large brown eyes oddly blank, the Psyker simply shook her head.

"I don't smoke." 

The man's face turns flushed at this, despite the cold; or whatever lower half of his face the group can see. The man's approach raises the suspicions of the majority of the group, though most don't catch anything particularly off about the enforcer, or the scene, other than the sudden interaction. Marcella and Father Milo however, can sense that the officer's approach is brought on my more than just the need for a light.

Father Milo offers the man a light, and he pulls a lho stick from a standard-issue carton. Even as he lets Milo light him, it's clear to Milo and Marcella that he has little interest in the smoke. Still the officer says, " Thanks. It's so damn cold down here, " shrugging before he pulls the cigarette back.


 "how long have you been here troopy?" he asks, proffering a friendly smile. "see any action, or is it boring as always?"

charm roll on the arbite

(1d100)[99] 

Something about Milo's demeanor sours the officer's expression. His lips curl back as if he had caught Milo's piss in his mouth. He gives the cleric a long glare before turning to the others. He leans in conspiratorially towards the group (though managing to put one shoulder in front of Father Milo as if he were blocking the man out, and whispers, " Which one of you is  in charge?  I have something for you. "

His eyes catch on Orla, and his lips pull tight.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 His eyes catch on Orla, and his lips pull tight. 
 

Orla will only shrug, as if to say  'I'm as surprised as you are.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc didn't consider herself the 'leader' so to speak. The closest to that, in her mind, was Hound. But, when the guard looked at Orla, the Psyker took a wild stab in the dark at what his intentions were: it was about the pass to let the Underhiver up.

 "I think I can help you,"  she said, raising her hand a little.
bramblefoot
 

milo will watch and wait, his hand resting on the mark III lasguns butt. he will scrutinize the arbites as they talk, looking for any signs of anything out of the ordinary

scrutiny roll tn 31

 (1d100)[ 34 ] 
Wyndeward
Arl leaned up against the rebar pillar, trying to look bored, while scanning the rest of the platform's guards.  His left hand rested on the round end of his duffle while his right was beneath his cloak, resting on the butt of his stub revolver.
Bennosuke
The officer eyes Arl warily, doing his best to ignore Milo. But avoiding these threat, he turns his attention to Marcella and in reply says as quietly as possible, " Uh, this came from on high. I was told to not ask questions. " With his free hand he reaches for a pocketed canvas bag hooked to his utility belt, and retrieves crisp white envelope about the size of a man's hand. The envelope is sealed with a button of blood red wax with no particular insignia.

He hands the envelope over to Marcella as furtively as possible, his hand shaking slightly. He checks over his shoulder, then says more audibly, " Thanks mate. Train should be here shortly. "

If Marcella were to open the envelop, preferably in a surreptitious manner, she will find that inside the envelope is a temporary rail pass for Orla.

(OOC: Unless anyone wants to do anything else, we can move on to catching up with Ezekiel.)
Haval
Orla grins at how uncomfortable the boy seemed. After he's out of earshot she'll say to To Milo,  'Didn't like you did he.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

When envelopes with wax sealing was drawn instead of a gun, Marcella had an almost certainty what it was about.

She also smiled internally. To think that she reached all the way up from the Underhive to the Midhive with just her mind and spoke to Interrogator Ezekiel. Something about it made the Psyker feel warm inside.

Maintaining the visage, Marcella nodded once,  "Thank you" , and tucked the envelope away in the inside of her coat. Once they could do so away from prying eyes, Marcella opened it and withdrew the temporary pass.

Twirling it about between her gloved fingers, she offered a small, friendly smile as she held it out for Orla.

 "You're welcome." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "You're welcome."  
 

Orla looks impressed and will take the pass.  'How much did that cost?'  The Raptore weren't neccessarily in a position to bribe anyone but the knowledge that it was possible might come in handy one day.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla looks impressed and will take the pass.  'How much did that cost?'  The Raptore weren't neccessarily in a position to bribe anyone but the knowledge that it was possible might come in handy one day. 
 

As they boarded the train, Marcella half narrowed her eyes in amused suspicion. The psyker ventured to speculated that it would be quite the pretty throne for a ganger wealthy and desperate enough to flee the putrid underhive.

 "You can ask him later today..."  she returned with an equally sly, little smile.

Marcella boarded and slid her backpack from her shoulders and nestled it between her booted feet when she sat down. She placed her rump on a corner seat that allowed her to view the only exit to the car, before taking out her submachine gun, ensuring the safety was still on, then laying it over her knee's for the trip. Much more comfortable than underneath her arm while sitting.

Exhaling, twiddling her nose, the psyker rolled her shoulders and eased back into the chair and looked about her, keen to watch the ascent. She'd eventually turn her attention back to Orla and stare at her, interested to see her reaction to heading up into the unknown and leaving behind her the only world she's known.
bramblefoot
 

milo shrugs  "even one as persuasive as i cannot be successful all the time"  he says without regret. "perhaps someone spat in his recaf?"  he says more quietly, boarding the train and taking a seat. he tips his helmet over his eyes, and will doze off.

milo is back in the spire, dueling his opponent to the death. his hand is steady, and he draws and blows the top of the man's head off in a shower of blood and brains.

the rest of you would notice milo twitch in his sleep several times
Haval
Orla has been to the mid hive before, yet not via the train or any kind of legal route. The train itself was not particularly interesting to look at so she will follow Milo's example and find somewhere where she could get comfortable and put her feet up.
bramblefoot
 

after a few hours, milo will stand, stretch, and wander over to marcella, sitting next to her. he pulls the lighter from his pocket and fishes a cigar from a belt pouch  "want one?"  he says, putting the stogie between his teeth and lighting it with his fancy lighter. the smell of good noble tobacco wafts through the car and milo hums to himself  "good noble cigars"  he purrs, inhaling with a half moan.  "you never know how much you miss it till its gone"  he says, puffing away on the cigar.  "i liberated these from ser drimmle"  he says in a conspiratorial whisper

 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella had actually fallen asleep by the offer of a cancer stick was extended. Her head resting back, her eyes closed, the Psykers mind had drifted off into the surroundings of an ESP web as she caught the first shut eye they had had in almost a day and a half. They'd descended through the tunnels, met at Raptores compound, gone to Tora territory, interrogated those kids, back to Raptore compound and then to the train station. She was positively beat and was looking forward a nice, warm bubble bath when she got home back to her Midhive hab apartment.

So when the smoke from those cigars wafted into her nose, the Psyker woke up and throatily coughed as if she had swallowed a drink the wrong way, her face bright red.

Marcellas eyes flashed angrily and she swooped her gloved hand back and forth before her face to push away the acrid vapours spewed across her features, her short blonde locks shaking as she did so.

 "Ewww, that's disgusting!"  she spluttered, reaching down into her backpack and withdrawing her gas mask and sliding it down over her face: the full, transparent flexiplastic visor making the item seem like just a black band around her head.

 "That's so gross!"  her voice altered by the filtration system of her mask.
bramblefoot
 

milo shrugs.  "suit yourself"  he says.  "arl, hound, orla?"  he offers, flashing three cigars between his fingers.  "i got one for each of you"  he says.  "not the usual midhive poodoo, the real cream of the crop" 

he looks at them, and then at marcella  "dont mind her, i bet shes never been cool in her life"  he jokes, slapping her shoulder gently.  "poor little sanctionite, never had a smoke, or a dance, or a lay" 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 
fyi, marcella, tell me if i go to hard on you, yeh? i want this to be fun, not unfun
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker inhaled the delicious, sterile and  clean  air of her mask, the smokeless vapor cleaning her lungs of that vile smoke billowing out of Milo's mouth.

Now that she had recovered, Marcella side-eyed Milo and narrowed her eyes at him.

 "Yeah I bet you got laid a lot at the abbey..."  she parry and thrusted at the priest.
bramblefoot
 

milo will shrug.  "i didnt grow up in the abbey"  he says. he gets close to her ear and whispers  "originally, i was a spire brat. gumdrops and g-strings as far as the eye could see"  he lets that sink in, and will return the cigar to his mouth. in a courtly tone he says  "ah milady, may i prithee offer you a dance?" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc had a slender, yellowed eyebrow raised as Milo describes the degenerate decadence of the Upperspire.

 "And then you left behind the degeneracy and debauchery to redeem yourself by spreading His word and the Imperial faith, yes?" 

His word, was obviously the Emperors.
bramblefoot
 

milo grins cheekily, saying  "of course madam."  he offers a courtly bow.  "anything else would be slanderous drivel. why i might challenge said person to a duel, if the conditions could be agreed on" 

he chuckles.  "so will you dance, or prefer to sit?" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc's eyebrow remained raised as she seemed half incredulous and half amused.

 "No I'm not dancing,"  she scoffed gently,  "I've been up for thirty six hours and just had my nap spoiled by you blowing that nasty smoke in my face! Ask Orla." 
bramblefoot
 

milo bobs his head once with a twinkle in his eye.  "perhaps another time milady?"  he says, resuming his seat ahead of marcella and puffing on his stogie  "good night, sleep tight, and dont let the ryders bite"  he jests, placing the flak helmet over his eyes again
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc snorted a  "Hmph!"  as she reached up and took her gas mask off and returned it to her backpack. It was clear she wasn't offended, as much as she was just playing along with the banter. Though she did have to resist the urge to psychically dominate him into doing some ridiculous dance on his own. Or hand over all the contents of his wallet and smile while doing it.

 "And I haven't been a  'little sanctionite' "  she repeated the phrase with a mimicry of Milo's voice, but with a teasing tone,  "for years." 

With her haughty little correction issued, the Psyker leaned back into her chair, rested her head and closed her eyes. If Milo decided to respond, she'd simply wave her gloved hand dismissively before drifting off to the realm of morpheus.
Haval
Orla will take a cigar,  'No point in turning down free stuff.'  After listening to the conversation she'll ask Milo,  'Wait. You're a priest. The spire thing makes total sense but you don't seem like the religious type.' 
bramblefoot
 

milo will light orlas cigar with his fancy lighter.  "religion wasnt in my original game plan, but it is now"  he says with a shrug.  "we all have various ways we think life will take us, but thats not always how it works out" 

at a closer glance at milos lighter reveals that it is clearly of very fine workmanship, with silver engraving reading  alea iacta est  in high gothic. milo will pocket the lighter again, finish his stogie and go back to sleep up ahead

 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 milo shrugs.  "suit yourself"  he says.  "arl, hound, orla?"  he offers, flashing three cigars between his fingers.  "i got one for each of you"  he says.  "not the usual midhive poodoo, the real cream of the crop"  
 

 Hound looks at the proffered cigars with distaste.  "I do not partake of such, no matter their provenance. They serve only to increase the likelihood of you being afflicted with terminal illnesses." 
 To Arl 
Observing the interplay between Milo and Marcella, Hound leans over to Arl and whispers:  "I believe the priest is attempting to form some sort of bond beyond the collegial with her. I calculate a very low chance of success, however. Is this also how it's done on your home world?" 
Haval
To Milo,  'Ain't that the truth.'  To Hound she'll only shrug,  'You know where I live right?' 
bramblefoot
 

milo will let out a half-chuckle.  "i never knew verispex adepts were so dry and dusty"  he teases hound.  "all that logic must be boring. why not relax a little?"  he chuckles again  "i already know your answer. as soon as we let our guard down, some slavering monstrosity from the stars will squash our little world like a bug" 

he will look at hound.  "go on, tell me about your cases. surely it must be hard to keep it all bottled up?" 
BananaPhone
  [SIZE=5]Marcella[/SIZE

Marcella drifted off into the land of morpheus, her mind rolling across the barrier between the Materium and the Warp. Beneath her closed eyelids, her eyes shifted about as her powerful brain greedily drunk in as much REM sleep as it could.

Awakening eventually, the Psyker rubbed her eyes with her hands, peerinf around at everyone else with the whites of her eyes pinkened from her sleep.

 "We almost there?"  she asked,  "we should probably stop by our habs and freshen up before meeting the big guy. Possibly arresting Drimmle is a big move, and we'll need his support." 

The Big Guy in this case being Interrogator Ezekiel.
bramblefoot
 
 "agreed"  milo says, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders. a slight grunt is heard as his left shoulder makes a popping noise like a small-caliber stub round.  "im not as young as i used to be"  he jokes, preparing for the train to stop. he turns to orla and winks.  "if you think the midhive is a special sight for someone, you aint seen nothing yet" 
Haval
Orla just regards Milo sceptically.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 To Milo,  'Ain't that the truth.'  To Hound she'll only shrug,  'You know where I live right?'  
 

  "Medically speaking, my statement nonetheless holds true. Statistically, perhaps less so in your case,"  Hound answers with a shrug.
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla just regards Milo sceptically. 
 

 
 "tell me orla, have you heard of a book?"  milo says, crossing his legs.  "if you're interested, i could teach you your letters and such" 

as hound mentions the terminal disease, milo shrugs.  "i enjoy a cigar rarely. we all have our little indulgences, dont we?" 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 as hound mentions the terminal disease, milo shrugs.  "i enjoy a cigar rarely. we all have our little indulgences, dont we?"  
 

  "I'm sure you do,"  Hound answers.
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "I'm sure you do,"  Hound answers. 
 

 

milo ignores the jab, and does the necessary prayers over his weaponry, mumbling the necessary litanies to ensure the gun is in proper working order. he ejects the laspack, blows some air inside the chemical cell chamber, and reinserts the laspack, pulling back on the charging handle with a satisfying  tweee  noise

he then moves on to his orthlack, breaking out the gun oil and a small ramrod with a brush on the end. he will clean out the barrel, tucking the magazine back in his pocket and liberally applying oil to the trigger mechanism  "gotta shine like silver, otherwise it might jam"  he mutters to no one in particular. he will reinsert the magazine, and pull back the bolt with a  ka-chunk  sound.  "just as the god-emperor intended"  he mutters quietly
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
  "tell me orla, have you heard of a book?"  milo says, crossing his legs.  "if you're interested, i could teach you your letters and such"  
 

Orla feels the condescension and will regard Milo levelly.  'Sister Grace tried with all that once but it didn't take. Find me something worth reading and maybe I'll think about it. Prayer books don't count.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella furrowed her brow slightly, a touch confused.

 "You mean...you can't read?"  she asked, genuinely puzzled over the idea.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "You mean...you can't read?"  she asked, genuinely puzzled over the idea. 
 

Orla shrugged,  'I can read a bar menu. More or less.' 
bramblefoot
 

milo will pull a small book from his backpack, and proffer it to orla.  "my tutors got me hooked on these little novels"  he says. the book is cheaply bound, and has a lurid title that reads  a hive in danger! arbites beat back mutant hordes  with a picture of a scantily clad noblewoman hanging on the arm of a handsome arbitrator.

 "have a read"  he says.  "its fluff, but its interesting fluff" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla shrugged,  'I can read a bar menu. More or less.'  
 


Marcella blinks in surprise, clearly not used to such words. Arl, the feral worlder, she could understand...but someone raised here, in a hive? Even the Underhive?

It made the Psyker feel a further mote of gratitude for her path in life. Had she remained on that manufactorum satellite in orbit, perhaps she too would have turned into an illiterate with a 35 year old life expectancy.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
  "have a read"  he says.  "its fluff, but its interesting fluff"  
 

Orla will take the book to get a closer look at the cover.  'Now I know that none of them look like that under their helmets. The lady as well probably.' 
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla will take the book to get a closer look at the cover.  'Now I know that none of them look like that under their helmets. The lady as well probably.'  
 

 

milo cracks a grin.  "your prolly right, but dont tell that to the arbitrators"  he does a half laugh.  "as to the lady, well we'll see"  he will let orla have the book  "just so you know, nothing is as it seems"  he says
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc' eyes swiveled in their sockets to see what the  Priest  was handing over to the wayward soul: a B-grade action novel with guns, mutant shooting and boobs. Lurid tripe. The Psyker silently rolled her eyes at the scandalous material.

Though in many ways, Marc remained endlessly fascinated by Orla, in the sense that there for the grace of the Emperor go I. She waited until Orla and Milo stopped talking, seeing it as rude to butt in. Once she saw her opening however,  "What do you do for fun down there?"  she asked abruptly towards the Underhiver.
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 

Marc' eyes swiveled in their sockets to see what the  Priest  was handing over to the wayward soul: a B-grade action novel with guns, mutant shooting and boobs. Lurid tripe. The Psyker silently rolled her eyes at the scandalous material.

Though in many ways, Marc remained endlessly fascinated by Orla, in the sense that there for the grace of the Emperor go I. She waited until Orla and Milo stopped talking, seeing it as rude to butt in. Once she saw her opening however,  "What do you do for fun down there?"  she asked abruptly towards the Underhiver. 
 

 

milo catches marcellas eye and shrugs as if to say  she brought this upon herself  milo will watch as marcella attempts to strike up conversation with the underhiver ,with no small degree of interest. milos always been a people person, and he watches as those less capable, or so he deems, chat up the scrappy underhiver who prolly hasnt had three square meals in her entire life, much less anything decent
Haval
Orla will pocket the book with no indication of caring about it one way or the other. To Marcella,  'Drinking mostly. I used to be into obscura more when I was younger but it takes up too much time. I've usually got stuff to do.'  Orla will suffer the attention with good grace but regards the younger woman like she was an overly curious child.  'What do  you  do for fun?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Overly curious child was a relatively apt descriptor, as Marc peered at Orla and listened intently.

 "You like mostly getting drunk?"  she confirmed, her tone impassive rather than judgmental, as if she were just confirming details to add to her field notes.

 "Me?"  Marc asked, a little surprised.  "Oh...weekend services, of course,"  she smiled, referring to the regular mass as per the Imperial Faith.  "I like watching the Scrumball - go Ripper Jacks!"  she half-giggled, before thinking again,  "I've been working on my pilots license too, and my medical license. I did my last tests on those recently so,"  she brought her gloved hands up with crossed fingers.
bramblefoot
 

milo will perk up at the result of marcellas pilots license  "when you get a chance, id love to be allowed to ride along"  he gushes.  "my last flight was ages ago, and it was prolly a lot more plush than this one will be" 
Haval
 'I don't drink alone usually. You can never tell who you might run into, even away from the places where people know the Raptore.'  Where was the harm in explaining.  'There are places that you can go to drink in the Underhive. I've supplied some of them with midhive booze myself. The ****tiest midhive bar is nicer but at least they have nice chairs. Some of them have music. Sometimes it's nice to go somewhere where there's no chance of someone trying to kill you.'  Orla is matter of fact about that last point.

On Marcella,  'I was raised with all that.'  Meaning the services.  'But it didn't take. No offence to Him obviously, but I figure he's got better things to worry about then what I'm doing at the weekends.'  The medical thing did interest her,  'You learning all that stuff? Is that from Hound?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 milo will perk up at the result of marcellas pilots license  "when you get a chance, id love to be allowed to ride along"  he gushes.  "my last flight was ages ago, and it was prolly a lot more plush than this one will be"  
 

Marc tilted her head to look back over at Milo, her chin-lengthed blonde curls swaying as she did so. She smiled at his proposition.

 "You're Mr Moneybags; fuel isn't cheap! So yeah, I'm more than happy for you to come along!"  she giggled.


 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'I don't drink alone usually. You can never tell who you might run into, even away from the places where people know the Raptore.'  Where was the harm in explaining.  'There are places that you can go to drink in the Underhive. I've supplied some of them with midhive booze myself. The ****tiest midhive bar is nicer but at least they have nice chairs. Some of them have music. Sometimes it's nice to go somewhere where there's no chance of someone trying to kill you.'  Orla is matter of fact about that last point.

On Marcella,  'I was raised with all that.'  Meaning the services.  'But it didn't take. No offence to Him obviously, but I figure he's got better things to worry about then what I'm doing at the weekends.'  
 

At this, however, Marc appeared more serious, even worried for half a second. Her eye-lids noticeably expanded momentarily before going back to normal, as if she had heard something positively shocking - because she had.

Internally, the Psyker wanted to hold her heart to her chest and gasp, but she had to provide a cool front. Had they made a massive mistake brinigng Orla along? Was she secretly a heretic? Having heard the word of the Emperor but ignoring the duty mankind owed for his sacrifice and protection? What if the Interrogator thought as such? Would he be "disappointed" in them all for bringing a potential apostate with them to learn the outer-workings of the Inquisition and its holy mission?

Marc's heart-beat accelerated briefly, as if she were on a rollercoaster, before slowly subsiding. For a moment she wanted to turn to Milo, the  priest , and see his reaction, but the man had just spoken about orgies, cigars and booze while dispensing action graphic novels to the faithless. So maybe it was up to her? As a Psyker she had  seen  the horrors of the Warp held at bay by the Emperor's light,  and  she had stood in his presence, received his notice, if even for a moment. Perhaps by re-kindling even a small spec of that emanation through Orla, she could play her part to buying mankind a few more seconds.

Reaching up to her neck, Marcella reached behind it and undid a slim, gold chain and withdrew it form her person, an icon of the Imperial cult dangling at the end, its skull-symbol catching the light. Holding the item in her right palm, Marcella conjured a mote of her psychic energy to quickly move it across the air and into Orla's lap.

 "I know the nightmare of the warp; His light keeps them at bay. I would advise that you wear that somewhere visible on your person where we are going,"  she said gently. It didn't sound like a warning, a demand or a threat, but how it was intended: friendly advice.


 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  The medical thing did interest her,  'You learning all that stuff? Is that from Hound?'  
 

Marc's mood seemed to shift immediately, her eyes widening a little and her bright smile returning,  "Oh, hehe, he is an excellent teacher. I developed a foundation at my...boarding school..."  she said oddly, clearly trying to think of a way to phrase it,  "and H agreed to take it the next step. If I passed, I get my license!"  she beams happily.
bramblefoot
 

milo sucks in a sharp intake of breath, and made the sign of the aquilla.  "obscura is illegal in the imperium proper, and the punishment is a short drop and a sudden stop"  he makes a scarily realistic impersonation of the face a dead man makes when hes been strangled by a noose.  "id suggest you not mention that, and pray none of the arbitrators here about that" 
Haval
Orla doesn't react to Marcella's display of psychic ability but will treat the warning seriously.  'You mean we're going somewhere worse then the Underhive? Fair enough. I'm not against getting extra help if you reckon you don't need it.'  Orla will attach the chain to her own neck.

On Marcella's medical training.  'You're useful to have around.' 

To Milo,  'You'd have to kill a lot of people in that case, including in the midhive. Lot of obscura addicts everywhere. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm an Underhiver smuggler who isn't normally supposed to be up here. Most of what I am is illegal.' 
bramblefoot
 

milo will clap his hands  "ill be your piggy bank, as long as you dont request too many frivolous expenditures"  he says.

to orla  "sweetness, im a priest, ive given the last rites to convicted murderers and worse."  he cracks a grin.  "you wanna hear about it?" 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 To Milo,  'You'd have to kill a lot of people in that case, including in the midhive. Lot of obscura addicts everywhere. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm an Underhiver smuggler who isn't normally supposed to be up here. Most of what I am is illegal.'  
 

 Hound perks up when Orla brings up her normal business.  "While you are working with us, how you ordinarily secure an income is of no relevance. For our purposes, only your skills and contacts are of interest,"  he interjects.
Haval
Orla's eyebrow raises at being referred to as 'sweetness',  'Worse then a murderer?' 

To Hound,  'I figured. And if I was worried about what was legal I never would have left the orphanage, let alone the Underhive.' 
bramblefoot
 

milo smiles, and begins.  "it was my sixth month of last rite duties when they brought in this massively muscled hooligan, fully encapsulated in a strait-cape"  he says.  "they flip his hood back, and the strait-cape is bulging as this guy is desperately trying to break out."  he sighs, and rubs his eyes.  "never seen it before or again, but he told me about a couple places where his last stash could be"  he scans the car, and will fall quiet, but not before saying  "believe me, you wouldnt want to mess with him. six feet of muscle, bone, and scar tissue." 
 "he said it was somewhere in the lower hive near the southwest ground pylon"  he says, and will say no more

 
 Spoiler: ooc 
bennosuke, feel free to use all or none of this, im just spitballing
 
Haval
 'Now if it was me I would have have wanted to go dig it up. Did you check to see?' 
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Now if it was me I would hsve have wanted to go dig it up. Did you check to see?'  
 

 

milo grins  "theres only three places near the southwest ground pylon he could have hid his stash. the first is in an old plague warded building. we'd need masks and wraps to enter safely and dig it up. the second is an alley thats said to be haunted by the ghost of a vengeful arbitrator, murdered before her time"  he shudders.  "took two steps in, and my breath frosted. another step, and i heard hobnailed boots"  he takes a swig from his canteen, and continues.  "something is haunting that alley"  he says.  "the third is what the lower hive dregs call death row"  he sighs  "didnt enter that, cause you could hear the screams and gibbers from several hundred yards away" 

he will finish up with a  "he must have had something big if he was hiding it in those locations, but i wonder what?" 
Bennosuke
Eventually the train arrives; a rickety and rusted looking series of five cars that have been heavily tagged and defaced. The enforcers scan each acolyte's forged ID badge, eyeing each with marked suspicion, Orla especially. She and Milo are the two with the least familiarity with this ride. They are shuffled onto a car, joined by a pair of enforcers, who do their best to stay on the opposite end of the car. Inside is just as dilapidated as outside, an unwelcoming and vandalized ruin. Plastic seats line the windowless propaganda covered sides of the car, chairs covered in garbage and in some cases human excrement. The smell in the train is an unrelenting and unforgiving stew.

Moments after the acolytes and the enforcers have boarded, the doors close with a  ding . Moments later the engines whine and the train shudders to start, vibrating and rocking as it picks up speed. The continuous sound and motion would almost be lulling, if it where not for the occasional screech of metal, or sudden jostling of the cart, causing all seated to nearly take air. Up and up through the bowels of Hive Haphaestein the train ascends.

After almost an hour the train screeches to a halt. Stopping off in the midhive. As the acolytes exit, their cards are again checked by enforcer security. The acolytes find themselves back in the midhive, not too far from their compound, but by now it is evening and the gas lights have been dimmed to signify the setting of the sun. They make their way with haste to the compound to arrive before curfew. They pass into the compound with after several computerized security checks, including a scanning of their cards. Though a relatively plain looking hab building from the outside, inside the compound is an austere and lavish home base. Though not as ornately decorated, or richly furnished as Drimmle's own apartment, the compound is all tall ceilings and creature comforts. The moment they make it through the door, they are greeted by Interrogator Ezekiel. A handsome man in his early thirties, The Interrogator is dressed in a fine green tailcoat. In one hand he clutches a book under his arm, and the other he keeps clasped on his belt. He grins roguishly as the group enters. Addressing the group he says, " Welcome, welcome. You were gone long. I hope you were successful. " He eyes Marcella, casting an almost cold if not impish stare. " That was... an interesting means of communication, " he says, the grin returning to his face, " Perhaps we will need to work on an alternative form of reaching each other over longer distances. " He then turns to Orla, " And you must be our newest... friend. " All this security, and the strangeness of the compound must surely be raising further alarm bells for Orla, but the Interrogator does not give her a chance to speak. Instead he says to the group, " I take it you have... briefed the little mouse on what we are doing here? You know The Master requires absolute secrecy in our activities.... I suppose she can be  silenced,  later if necessary. "
Haval
 Earlier 

To Milo,  'Screaming and gibbering ain't so bad. For all you know it was someone coming off a bender.'  Orla will glance towards Marcella,  'And I don't know much about ghosts but maybe Marcella might.' 
 Later 

Whoever they were working for had money and clout. That was obvious from the way someone was casually able to pull enough strings to get Orla on the train. She had assumed some sort of noble house was at the bottom of this, or perhaps organised crime, but the extent of the security gave Orla pause. The man in the green coat was exactly the sort of person she pictured as the boss in this situation though.

Orla will blanch a little at being referred to as a 'mouse' but she'll do her best to present herself as not being particularly bothered by this man and this talk of silencing her. Who exactly would she tell anyway? If there was a point he'd presumably get to it eventually.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla doesn't react to Marcella's display of psychic ability but will treat the warning seriously.  'You mean we're going somewhere worse then the Underhive? Fair enough. I'm not against getting extra help if you reckon you don't need it.'  Orla will attach the chain to her own neck.[/COLOR] 
 

The Psyker rose a slender, blonde eyebrow at the misunderstanding. She decided not to say anything though, instead allowing Orla to figure it out for herself as they continued.

Marcella had gone the rest of the trip in silence, her eyes closing over once more as she tried getting as much shut eye as she could. Such was her mind that the Psyker was able to sleep through the worst of it, from the acrid smell to the sudden holts and motions of the carriage - the girl remained slumberous. It wasn't until they arrived at the station that her eyes slowly opened up again, blinking away the grains of a sleep as she smacked and licked her lips once and shook her head, groaning gently as she brought her gloved hand up to rub at it.

 "Ughh, can't wait to get home..."  she uttered to herself, rolling her shoulders.  "Have a bath, decent sleep..." 

The Psyker should return her gun to hanging from under her right shoulder within her coat and sling her backpack across her shoulders and shuffled out with the others.

When they arrived at the station and the Midhive, Marcella took the time to 'freshen up', by heading into one of the bathrooms. There, she removed her gloves and splashed water over her face. She'd pull out a little kit, including some face wipes, and apply them, and by the time she emerged, the pinkness of her eyes and tired look was gone, replaced by her usually sunny demeanour.

When they arrived at the compound, Marcella was humming gently to herself as they passed through further security barriers until arriving at the Interrogators chambers. There, the Psyker smiled, remaining quiet while being addressed, but a slight bashful blush passed her cheeks when the Interrogator addressed her personally. Like a school girl being spoken to by her secret crush, the implication of approval was gratifying, given that months ago she could barely move a coin.

 "Thank you Sir, I agree. Though...this method has the benefit of being untraceable and completely secure,"  her flush rescinding.

When it came time to report, however, and consider Orla's position, Marcella waited a moment to see if anyone else would speak. Should they not, she would, her chin up, voice a mixture of supplicant and authority as she offered an informal report.

 "This is Orla,"  she gestured to the other woman.

 "She is a member of the Raptore clan to whom we have reached a general accord. We can move through their territory unmolested and we receive information from their scouts. She is a smuggler we have hired and who has proven helpful in navigating the Underhive and for information about the Torra and Sabay. She knows about the weapons and the players involved, but not... us " , the implication being The Inquisition,  "to either her or her clan. We believed that that was better off left to your discretion to divulge, Sir." 

The psyker allowed a pause for whatever came next, from the Interrogator, Orla herself or another of the group.

When the moment came, the Psyker would finish.

 "As I mentioned in my prior...communication. The Raptore have had all of their tunnels simultaneously closed off, effectively blinding them to the rest of the Underhive. The Tora and the Sabbay appear to be coordinating their efforts in at least a ceasefire and another 'team' has recently travelled from the Mid-to-Upper hive to meet with Tora leadership.

It is just reasoned speculation at this time, but we currently believe that Drimmle has sent another credit guild team down to the underhive to pay off the Tora and Sabay into working together to help ease the smuggling of the weapons into the Hive. It was the Tora who interrupted the prior shipment last time, and so instead of a costly gang war, they've bought the gangs off. They have then blinded the Raptore, but haven't moved into their territory, that suggests that they are now focusing on bringing more weapons in.

There could be another explanation. Perhaps it wasn't a credit guild team, maybe it was another player. But the only way we believe the two gangs, who previously hated each other, would work together is if they were being paid good money to do so. We currently think that Drimmle has betrayed us, or has at least had his hand forced by those who he serves. We had two options: fight our way through the gangs to disrupt the next shipment and attempt to arrest Captain Casimirre, or return to the Upperhive and disrupt the flow of funds making the gangs play nice. We're not an assault team, Sir, so we chose the latter. If Drimmle is an active traitor, or whether he has had his hand forced - how would you like us to handle it, Sir?" 

A slight pause.

 "If you wish, I could... interrogate  him there, or we could return him here for a lengthier period of...questioning." 
bramblefoot
 

milo will stretch and do the same, prepping for another trip back to their 'friend' who will invariably demand something. he will bow his head as a sign of respect, moving to let orla approach if necessary

his words to orla still echo in his mind  "this is the big leagues here. we are but minnows swimming with sharks. play it safe, and you may grow" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "She is a member of the Raptore clan to whom we have reached a general accord. We can move through their territory unmolested and we receive information from their scouts. She is a smuggler we have hired and who has proven helpful in navigating the Underhive and for information about the Torra and Sabay. She knows about the weapons and the players involved, but not... us " , the implication being The Inquisition,  "to either her or her clan. We believed that that was better off left to your discretion to divulge, Sir."  
 

Orla will interject there.  'If you're being honest about taking those weapons away from everyone else, who  you  are doesn't matter that much to me.'  Orla was curious, but not enough to push the issue if no one wanted to be open with her.  'As for telling people. I don't think I even know anyone who would care.'  She'll watch Ezekial closely, as his opinion was clearly the only one that mattered here.
Bennosuke
 "This is Orla," she gestured to the other woman.

"She is a member of the Raptore clan to whom we have reached a general accord. We can move through their territory unmolested and we receive information from their scouts. She is a smuggler we have hired and who has proven helpful in navigating the Underhive and for information about the Torra and Sabay. She knows about the weapons and the players involved, but not...us", the implication being The Inquisition, "to either her or her clan. We believed that that was better off left to your discretion to divulge, Sir."

The psyker allowed a pause for whatever came next, from the Interrogator, Orla herself or another of the group. 

" Welcome Orla, " The Interrogator says, singling out the Underhive ganger. He gives a kind nod of his head, but makes no attempt to shake her hand. But he frowns at the last of Marcella's remarks. Sourly he says, " So you brought her to our... secret base, without explaining exactly who we are or what we do? I will... have to discuss this with my master later. " He nods his head disapprovingly before turning his attention back to Orla. " Very well, " he says with a sigh, " I do not mean to intimidate you my dear, but I need you to understand what exactly is at stake here. I am going to swear you now to a secrecy of such severity that I am willing to risk your life, as well as the lives of the rest of my... underlings, to make sure it is maintained. Do you understand? " He reaches a hand into the pocket of his robes and retrieves a red rosetta insignia, showing it up to Orla. " I don't expect you to necessarily understand what this is. Within the Imperium, there is an order of individuals tasked with rooting out the deadliest threats and forms of corruption to make sure that humanity as we know it can survive. There are secrets, nay truths too terrible for the masses to understand, and it is our order's business to shield them from these secrets. We are the Inquisition, one of the last lights in this ever darkening galaxy. And you little mouse, have somehow managed to get yourself tangled up in our work. Have the others told you what we are working at? "
Haval
 'Huh.'  Orla will glance briefly towards Marcella for any sign that the younger woman was taking this story seriously. She had heard something of the Inquisition without really understanding the details or even giving it credit. An organisation that was somehow everywhere and nowhere at the same time? She had more or less been told that the others were working for the Adeptus Terra.  'Well I guess if you're lying about that you're in more trouble then I'm ever likely to get into.'  She doesn't sound like she thinks they were lying.  'And it would explain a few things.'  The psyker and the big offworlder among them.

She'll answer the man's question.  'They told me they're trying to get those weapons out of the Underhive and hopefully off the planet. I've not seen them in use close up but I've heard the stories second hand from someone who did and I trust them. Could still do with getting paid at some point, but I am with you all the way in getting them away from my sisters. Maybe no one should have that sort of thing but the Tora and the Sabay definately shouldn't.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc said nothing as she and the others were seemingly chastised by the Interrogator for  not  telling Orla about who they really were. She didn't make moves to interrupt or quickly explain herself or her fellows actions, she just waited until he was finished. It was easy to forget that underneath Marcella's bubbly and chatty persona was an iron willpower that served as the only barrier between the warp and the materium.

 "Rumor spreads like wild-fire in the Underhive and we felt it best not to reveal who we really were to anyone lest word get back to Captain Cassimire and he and his operatives went to ground, which would make tracking them and their weapon imports even more difficult. As you said, secrecy is everything, Sir."  Marc stated flatly, careful not to sound either hurriedly explanatory nor snappy and indignant, rather just neutrally offering an explanation.

Perhaps the Interrogator felt differently. But, if the Master required absolute secrecy then Marcella was confident he would side with them in any discussion the interrogator would have.

The psyker then waited as Orla had things explained to her and she gave her honest reactions. Again, she didn't interrupt or try to influence - she just watched.
bramblefoot
 

milo will do the same as marcella, just watch and wait.  best to let the scum prove herself in the fire, or perish  he thinks to himself
rax
Hound simply waits quietly, confident that Orla will pass muster, but equally confident that Ezekiel will see that killing her would cause the alliance with Clan Raptore to disintegrate, thus jeopardizing the investigation.
Bennosuke
 'Huh.' Orla will glance briefly towards Marcella for any sign that the younger woman was taking this story seriously. She had heard something of the Inquisition without really understanding the details or even giving it credit. An organisation that was somehow everywhere and nowhere at the same time? She had more or less been told that the others were working for the Adeptus Terra. 'Well I guess if you're lying about that you're in more trouble then I'm ever likely to get into.' She doesn't sound like she thinks they were lying. 'And it would explain a few things.' The psyker and the big offworlder among them. 

Interrogator Ezekiel's grand and almost threatening demeanor disintegrates for a moment at this, as he allows himself a small smirk. He hears Orla out further, and when she mentions having not seen the weapons up close he replies, " I would hope not. " Orla had of course heard what happened to her Ria, her former clanmate who had secreted away the weapons from the battlegrounds and apparently been driven to insanity. She had been found in the midhive, rumor had it, ranting and raving and completely out of her mind. At getting payed he smirks again and replies, " Well, if you prove useful, and loyal, we can look into that. " He raises a gloved hand to vainly study the fabric for a moment, then says, " And by the way, my name is Ezekiel, and I am an Interrogator. You can refer to me by this title. I... WE serve my master, Inquisitor Zarkov, who *sigh* both you and Father Milo will need to be introduced to at some point. "
bramblefoot
 

milo makes the sign of the aquilla, and whispers to orla  "told you we work for big fish. you better not tell your underhive buddies" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 He raises a gloved hand to vainly study the fabric for a moment, then says, " And by the way, my name is Ezekiel, and I am an Interrogator. You can refer to me by this title. I... WE serve my master, Inquisitor Zarkov, who *sigh* both you and Father Milo will need to be introduced to at some point. " 
 

 'Right.'  Orla wondered if she could put that off for as long as possible.  'Is your boss even on Helius?' 

To Milo equally quietly,  'Not buddies,  family .'  She'll do her best not to snap in front of the Interrogator.  'But given threats have been made, I tend to feel like that takes the choice out of my hands.'  Just as long as no one gave her a reason to reconsider that decision.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
 Hound looks at the proffered cigars with distaste.  "I do not partake of such, no matter their provenance. They serve only to increase the likelihood of you being afflicted with terminal illnesses." 
 To Arl 
Observing the interplay between Milo and Marcella, Hound leans over to Arl and whispers:  "I believe the priest is attempting to form some sort of bond beyond the collegial with her. I calculate a very low chance of success, however. Is this also how it's done on your home world?"  
 

Arl politely demurs the offer of a cigar.  " A hunter shouldn't leave a lingering trail behind them, lest they become the hunted. "

He then leaned over and spoke the Hound in a whisper.

" Not usually... a good suitor is generally judged on their abilities, men as hunters, women as healers and weapon-makers, that sort of thing.  The elders also seek the guidance of the Emperor in these matters, but that is usually in usual cases. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc remained quiet and attentive, her large, warm brown eyes watching the exchange with interest.
Bennosuke
 'Right.' Orla wondered if she could put that off for as long as possible. 'Is your boss even on Helius?' 

The Interrogator tips his head to the side, and raises a hand to scratch at his stubbly chin. He replies, " Let's just say that's 'need to know only' information, " and grins a little wider.

Turning to the others (OOC: feel free to continue chatting), Ezekiel will eventually say, " I trust you all will be able to show our newest recruit around the compound. We can debrief in a little bit.. unless there is something we must discuss now. Orla, please make yourself at home... or as much as you can with these  meager  accommodations. " It was hard to tell if he was being sincere at this.

(OOC: Will allow for some brief responses before wrapping things up here)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc shared a glance towards the others, before speaking up again, her voice soft.

 "We seek approval for arresting or...dealing with Lord Drimmle, and acquiring from him a signed confession, names of his co-conspirators and, if possible, all records he has on his involvement in this smuggling operation."  
bramblefoot
 

milo will agree with marcella, his face set into a stony mask.  "cant have a heretic prowling the spire, 'specially not one of his reach and power"  he says, cracking his knuckles. each pop sounds like a gunshot in the silent room.
Haval
Orla just nods at the Interrogator's need to know point. It meant that the Inquisitor could be somewhere else in this building for all she knew.

 'I get a room?' 
Bennosuke
 Marc shared a glance towards the others, before speaking up again, her voice soft.

"We seek approval for arresting or...dealing with Lord Drimmle, and acquiring from him a signed confession, names of his co-conspirators and, if possible, all records he has on his involvement in this smuggling operation." 

Ezekiel's grin dissolves rather quickly, and he sucks on the side of his cheek for a moment before replying. " Hmmm... I'm afraid that's probably a no, " he says raising both hands palm up, " this is still a clandestine operation. Disappearing a wealthy and important member of society, or Emperor forbid, publicly performing some sort of arrest, is going to draw too much attention and raise too many questions. As it is, I am a little uncomfortable with how this team has engaged him to begin with. If he at all decides to betray us, we could be significantly compromised. " He shakes his head, taking a moment to regain his composure, as his voice had been raising during the reply. In a forced but hushed voice he continues, " To be honest, he has the resources to have you tracked, and to hire all sorts of nasties who could come after us. I have already begun looking into a backup headquarters, though I fear that the options have all been even less accommodating then what we have now. "


 Orla just nods at the Interrogator's need to know point. It meant that the Inquisitor could be somewhere else in this building for all she knew.

'I get a room?' 

The question returns a grin to The Interrogator's face. With a sigh he says, " Yes little mouse, we will find you a room. "
rax
 "An element of risk is present in all field operations,"  Hound reminds Ezekiel.  "Once we had committed to interrogating Drimmle's underling, the clock was already ticking on confronting him in some fashion. It is possible that he has since summoned up the courage to betray us, but if he has, I would have assumed that his superiors would have been more proactive in hunting us down or - as you say - even raiding the safe house. In any case, we will not know the true state of affairs until we confront him again, and this time we will have an advantage in finding the truth thanks to Acolyte Marcella's new powers." 
 "Should we find that we have walked into a trap, we will naturally do our duty and end our lives if there is any chance of us being caught and interrogated,"  he adds.
bramblefoot
 

milos face betrays no expression of his feelings, but inside, hes seething.  and here i was hoping i could thwack him across the face  he thinks to himself.  patience father  a voice chimes in his head, sounding like him, but slightly off  good things come to those who wait 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella didn't want to accept the Interrogators initial assessment of staying away from Drimmle, though she stood there, quiet and passive-expressioned as he told the group of his position: the man was not to be encroached upon. He was wealthy, a minor noble and going after him could rock the political boat, particularly if a public arrest was involved.

The Psyker wondered, however, if this wasn't too passive an approach. They knew the weapons were being imported. They knew that Drimmle was the financier of the operation and was the front for a higher, more powerful noble. He was the lynchpin in the entire operation that kept the Sabay and Tora working together with his money, shielded his higher ups and likely paid Captain Casimirre his money. Not only that, but Marcella remembered how terrified he had been of the Inquisitorial Rosary - he knew the reputation of this organisation. She found the idea that a man as cowardly as Drimmle would openly attack agents of the Inquisition as unlikely.

It seemed though that Hound was of a similar mind. Originally consigning herself to just accepting her superiors directive, even if she didn't agree with them, she listened to Hound and found herself agreeing with what he said.

 "I agree with Acolyte Hound, Sir,"  Marcella chimed in gently.

 "I have  felt  those weapons, what they are: they are of a heretical and warp-based origin and construction. Two months ago all we knew was that the ganger Ria was found babbling incoherently. Now, we have mapped a conspiracy across every layer of the hive to import heretical weapons of warp-based construction whose mere presence drives individuals mad. Lord Drimmle is the financier, and he is a front man for Lord Durchess. The longer we allow this to continue, the greater the risk for every soul in this Hive, Sir." 
Haval
Orla, who has never had a room to herself in her life, looks deeply impressed.

Hound's last point will force her to pay attention to the other's conversation.  'Hang on, you'll have to pay me a lot more first to get me to agree to that. Besides, the trick is to not be in a mess like that in the first place. What's this about new powers anyway?' 
bramblefoot
 

milo nods with marcella  "tis better to knit then permit"  he says, making the sign of the aquilla.  "you gotta seal the breaches, even if it means making tough decisions. doubt leads to hesitation, and hesitation leads to inaction"  he looks interrogator ezekiel in the eyes, and says quietly  "please interrogator, we need to deal with this. between you and me, id hate to see this get out of hand and spoil your promotion chances" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc's eyes will side-look to Orla for a second before returning to Interrogator Ezekiel.

  'The interrogation I performed on the juves; learning everything they've ever known. I will repeat the process on Drimmle. Such an option was not available last time we met,'   the Psyker's telepathic voice gently slid into Orla's mind, as if she were talking softly right into her ears, while the Psyker's focus remained forward on the Interrogator.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    'The interrogation I performed on the juves; learning everything they've ever known. I will repeat the process on Drimmle. Such an option was not available last time we met,'   the Psyker's telepathic voice gently slid into Orla's mind, as if she were talking softly right into her ears, while the Psyker's focus remained forward on the Interrogator. 
 

Orla will try not to look startled. So a psyker just gets progressively weirder until what exactly? Orla figured that it was too late to worry about how much the other woman was capable of knowing about her while she was in her head. She'll turn to Marcella,  'In that case, how close do you need to be to this guy to do that to him? Can you do it without him knowing you're there? Can you do it if he's asleep say? Or if he's in the middle of a crowd? This guy can't stay in his house all the time.' 
bramblefoot
 

milo quirks a grin.  "marcella may be a psyker and a spitfire, but she has her uses"  he says, placing a hand on marcellas shoulder.  "after all, im the talker, but if i cant get the info out of someone, just let her apply the mind screws, and we're good as gold" 
Haval
To Milo,  'Not saying it isn't useful. Maybe you could cheat at cards with a trick like that.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla will try not to look startled. So a psyker just gets progressively weirder until what exactly? Orla figured that it was too late to worry about how much the other woman was capable of knowing about her while she was in her head. She'll turn to Marcella,  'In that case, how close do you need to be to this guy to do that to him? Can you do it without him knowing you're there? Can you do it if he's asleep say? Or if he's in the middle of a crowd? This guy can't stay in his house all the time.'  
 


 "I need to be relatively close to read his mind and learn everything he's every known. For now. But I'm getting better every day..."  Marcella uttered, her tone oddly eerie, as if carrying unknown implications.

 "I could reach out and speak to him right now if desired; let him know that we know he has betrayed us, and that he is best off handing himself in,"  the Psyker said with a jokingly optimistic smirk.

 "But I doubt that would happen. All it would do is tip him off to expect us soon."
 

 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 milo quirks a grin.  "marcella may be a psyker and a spitfire, but she has her uses"  he says, placing a hand on marcellas shoulder.  "after all, im the talker, but if i cant get the info out of someone, just let her apply the mind screws, and we're good as gold"  
 


 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 To Milo,  'Not saying it isn't useful. Maybe you could cheat at cards with a trick like that.'  
 


Marc felt that hand on her shoulder and turned her head to look up at Milo and then over to Orla when she devised a way to make money using her abilities.

The psyker shrugged.

 "Just mind control all your opponents to go all in and then fold..." 

She then straightened her posture slightly, eyes returning to the Interrogator.

 "Not that I condone such...frivolous use of resources, Sir." 
bramblefoot
 

milo lets out a short bark of laughter.  "marcella, what would the god emperor say to that?"  he teases gently.  "surely he would think that its a waste of your talent, right?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "I need to be relatively close to read his mind and learn everything he's every known. For now. But I'm getting better every day..."  Marcella uttered, her tone oddly eerie, as if carrying unknown implications.

 "I could reach out and speak to him right now if desired; let him know that we know he has betrayed us, and that he is best off handing himself in,"  the Psyker said with a jokingly optimistic smirk.

 "But I doubt that would happen. All it would do is tip him off to expect us soon."
  
 

 'I was thinking of something sneakier then that. What does this guy do for work anyway? Or is he just rich?' 

On the matter of gambling.  'All I'm saying is that there might be a point where it comes in handy to do that. And you said you met Him didn't you. If the Emperor didn't trust you to use that trick properly maybe he would have done something about that at the time.' 
rax
 "Sir Drimmle is a senior operative of the Credit Guild. He handles the Guild's business with House Durchess. He and his team are or were responsible for providing financial support from Lord Durchess to Clan Sabay in return for them retrieving cargo - such as the aforementioned weapons - being delivered to the Underhive by the Rogue Trader Casmirre. Your clan and Clan Tora disrupted the last known transfer, which is when we became involved,"  Hound very briefly summarizes events for Orla.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Sir Drimmle is a senior operative of the Credit Guild. He handles the Guild's business with House Durchess. He and his team are or were responsible for providing financial support from Lord Durchess to Clan Sabay in return for them retrieving cargo - such as the aforementioned weapons - being delivered to the Underhive by the Rogue Trader Casmirre. Your clan and Clan Tora disrupted the last known transfer, which is when we became involved,"  Hound very briefly summarizes events for Orla. 
 

 'I know about the criminal stuff.'  Orla waves away Hounds comment aimiably.  'I mean that if you're doing things that would make the Emperor mad at you, you might have a regular job and a regular schedule to keep. If you're worried about the Enforcers knowing where your monies coming from you might want to have a front where you pretend to be normal. Obviously hasn't worked for him in this case.'  She'll wave towards the Interrogator to imply that the Inquisition knew all about Drimmle.  'But if you don't want to get violent with this guy, maybe you can find a place where he's out and about and Marcella can bump into him in a crowd. Unless you want to try breaking into his house and psychic him while he's asleep.'  Orla shrugs,  'Marcella would be the only psyker I've ever met, so I can't say I'm an expert, but if you want to think outside the box....' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Have reached the point where Orla's obliged to pay attention to the plot 🙂
 
bramblefoot
 

milo sighs  "were talking old money here. you cant just bust down his door and arrest him without cause, or you might end up with poison in your food or a bullet in your brainpan"  he sighs  "such is the nature of power and heresy, and why it is so difficult to destroy" 

he will rub his eyes  "even with cause, this would no doubt be dragged out to courts for emperor knows how long, and end up with the same result."  he slams a fist into his palm  "damn drimmle"  he says, and takes a seat
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'I know about the criminal stuff.'  Orla waves away Hounds comment aimiably.  'I mean that if you're doing things that would make the Emperor mad at you, you might have a regular job and a regular schedule to keep. If you're worried about the Enforcers knowing where your monies coming from you might want to have a front where you pretend to be normal. Obviously hasn't worked for him in this case.'  She'll wave towards the Interrogator to imply that the Inquisition knew all about Drimmle.  'But if you don't want to get violent with this guy, maybe you can find a place where he's out and about and Marcella can bump into him in a crowd. Unless you want to try breaking into his house and psychic him while he's asleep.'  Orla shrugs,  'Marcella would be the only psyker I've ever met, so I can't say I'm an expert, but if you want to think outside the box....'  
 

Marc felt a touch giddy thst she was getting such positive attention for things she could contribute. It made her feel special.

 "I need physical contact,"  she replied gently.  "If we were to subject him to a full mind scan, it would be best done where he could be restrained and exhausted to lower his ability to resist." 

Marc tilted her head to look over at Milo as he explained an issue with going after nobles: their power and influence.

 "Even so, nobles exist on their reputation and social appearance. What loyal citizen of the Imperium wants to be seen as being arrested for heresy, sedition and conspiracy? Even if he eventually won his case in the court, the stink of the accusation and what evidence we have would linger around and his family name for centuries. No smoke without fire, his rivals would say."
 
bramblefoot
 

milo nods, massaging his temples  "that they do"  he says, cracking a wry grin.  "their reputation is their lifeblood. poison that, and they got nowhere to go but down"  he will smile, and says  "im gonna get some shuteye."  he will stand, stretch, and shamble to his quarters, leaning the lasgun against his bed and putting the orthlack on the nightstand. so tired is he that he shucks the flak helmet but falls asleep with the flak jacket still on and the microbead still in his ear.

milos lasgun

 

the orthlack

 

milo will sleep for about 6-8 hours, until he is awoken by his comm-bead chiming in his ear. milo will answer it, and is rewarded by a loud basso voice saying.  "ah milo!, i have your new toy prepared for its test run"  milo will practically jump for joy. leonardo lysergo was had worked on plenty of custom tech for house enko, and even though he currently worked in the midhive, some debts still held true. leonardo was the kind of man you could trust with your life and he would defend it by cranking out tech gubbins and armaments until the day he died. the man was a genius, and even though he was approaching his mid-fifties, his mind was sharp and his arm was strong

milo splashes some water on his face, gathers his kit, and will rush to leonardos shop in the weapons quarter. as he raps on the door, leonardo swings it wide, and sweeps milo into a hug  "my friend, welcome"  he booms, ushering milo inside to a workbench and sweeping back a cloth covering the wrist flamer  "do you like it milo?"  he asks, watching as milo will fork over the thrones and buckle it on. the flamer was a burnished steel gauntlet, with a trigger switch inbuilt into the glove. a quick clench of the fist would make the flamer fire its holy promethium into the enemy, and they would burn.

milo nods, and will pass leonardo some plans he drew up for some other gubbins.  "think you can cram some IR readers into a pair of ballistic shades, and then kludge together an IR flashlight on a shoulder mount?"  he asks. leonardo shrugs, and will defer milo to his newest engineer, lillie lysergo  "her fingers are nimbler than mine"  he says.

 

leonardo lysergo art
 

lillie lysergo
 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel's grin dissolves rather quickly, and he sucks on the side of his cheek for a moment before replying. " Hmmm... I'm afraid that's probably a no, " he says raising both hands palm up, " this is still a clandestine operation. Disappearing a wealthy and important member of society, or Emperor forbid, publicly performing some sort of arrest, is going to draw too much attention and raise too many questions. As it is, I am a little uncomfortable with how this team has engaged him to begin with. If he at all decides to betray us, we could be significantly compromised. " He shakes his head, taking a moment to regain his composure, as his voice had been raising during the reply. In a forced but hushed voice he continues, " To be honest, he has the resources to have you tracked, and to hire all sorts of nasties who could come after us. I have already begun looking into a backup headquarters, though I fear that the options have all been even less accommodating then what we have now. " 
 

Arl listens closely to the conversation between Marcella and Ezekiel.

" Drimmle is part of the pipeline from orbit to the underhive.  Now, to be frank, greasing the skids to deliver heretical weapons to the Underhive may not be Drimmle's only sin, just his biggest that we know of... Interrogator, if I could hazard a suggestion... a man such as Drimmle, willing to risk his soul for credits, probably has a host of other crimes to his name.

While   we   might not be able to touch Drimmle the upright banker, perhaps, with a word in the right ears, the Inquisition could target Drimmle indirectly, perhaps have the Credit Guild audit him within an inch of his life and see what other misbehavior rises to the fore.  Once disgraced and cast out, it would be no problem to grab Drimmle the outcast and then squeeze him for every jot and tittle of information and then discard the husk like the pit of a ploin fruit." 
bramblefoot
 

milo smiles cruelly.  "arl, i like the way you think"  he says.  "the thing i worry about is captain casimere. he prolly could buy drimmle out of anything if he wanted to, and then flee the system"  he turns to interrogator ezekiel.  "i suggest we try arls plan with your permission of course sir" 
rax
 "I suggest we try to find out what's  actually  going on before we concoct solutions to a problem that may not exist. Drimmle may yet prove to have been loyal to the Inquisition - so far we have nothing beyond our own suspicions to prove that he has gone back on his word. What is needed now is a discussion on how to approach him again without being caught in a possible trap, not what to do with him if it turns out his conversion was only for show,"  Hound interjects.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella listened quietly, her large, warm brown eyes moving between Arl and Hound.

 "I agree in spirit,"  she said to Arls suggestion. Isolating the prey off from the protection of their herd would work well.

 "But I agree with Hound. Drimmle seemed genuinely terrified when we showed him the rosary of the Inquisition. He might have willingly betrayed us. But he might have had his hand forced also, and might still prove useful." 
Haval
To Marcella,  'So back to your thing then. If you need to be able to touch him how easy do you think it'd be to break into this guys house and look into his head while he's asleep.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc swivelled her eyes to look at Orla.

 "We've done it before,"  she said quietly,  "at the time I couldn't... interrogate  him, in such a way. But now I can. Previously, we could not enter without being detected. This time, we could tranquilize him, during which entering his mind would meet less resistance." 



OOC:
Caught me right as I put the slow cooker on and decided to swing past the forum lol.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marc swivelled her eyes to look at Orla.

 "We've done it before,"  she said quietly,  "at the time I couldn't... interrogate  him, in such a way. But now I can. Previously, we could not enter without being detected. This time, we could tranquilize him, during which entering his mind would meet less resistance."  
 

 'If you can do that, do you mean like put something in his drink or something? Or do you have something to jab him with?' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

I don't currently have Security but Orla has enough XP to buy it if it helps
 
bramblefoot
 

milo cracks a grin  "i think she'll just psyker his brain into unconsciousness and pick through it like a raven plucking an eyeball from a corpse"  he smiles, but there is no warmth to it.  "how do you think she'd do it"  he says, spreading his arms wide, as if asking for opinions from a crowd
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc looked passively at Milo's description of her, whether she took offence to the descriptor or not was hard to tell.

 "No,"  she answered Orla,  "I just need to get into the house with him. I can take it from there." 
bramblefoot
 

milo will nod.  "yknow, if we ever decide to do callsigns, yours should definitely be raven"  he says, slapping her on the shoulder, military style.  "mine would be throne" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker snorted lightly in amusement.

 "Raven..."  she repeated.

 "Sounds like something I'd come up with six years ago when I was sixteen or something,"  she snickered.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 milo cracks a grin  "i think she'll just psyker his brain into unconsciousness and pick through it like a raven plucking an eyeball from a corpse"  he smiles, but there is no warmth to it.  "how do you think she'd do it"  he says, spreading his arms wide, as if asking for opinions from a crowd 
 

After a moment Orla will try to answer that.  'None of my business, but if being able to do that is useful we might as well take advantage.' 

She won't comment on the matter of call signs.
bramblefoot
 

milo listens intently, and cracks another grin.  "you see, its amazing what people reveal when they just talk"  he says.  "get someone angry or out of their comfort zone, and they reveal much more than normal" 

he looks at orla.  "tell me, were you born among the muck and filth, or did you get moved down there for some unknown slight?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 he looks at orla.  "tell me, were you born among the muck and filth, or did you get moved down there for some unknown slight?"  
 

Orla looks levelly at Milo before smiling.   'Muck and filth? Well we can't all be born into a place where you get servitors to wipe your arse for you. There are people who go to the Underhive to hide out sometimes but as far as I know no one gets sent there by punishment. If you've done anything to deserve that the Enforcers are more likely to throw you in a hole somewhere if they don't shoot you outright.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla looks levelly at Milo before smiling.   'Muck and filth? Well we can't all be born into a place where you get servitors to wipe your arse for you. There are people who go to the Underhive to hide out sometimes but as far as I know no one gets sent there by punishment. If you've done anything to deserve that the Enforcers are more likely to throw you in a hole somewhere if they don't shoot you outright.'  
 

Arl looks at the two of them, rolling his eyes and trying to stifle a laugh.

" Would the two of you save the venom for the heretics?  Neither of you would likely survive on Kesh, any more than I would last too long in the Underhive...  I might be able to survive topside, but only because there are folks who worry more about which fork to use than which knife to stab you with. 

With that, he hefts his duffle bag up only his lap and unzips it, tossing aside what looks like a padded blanket and revealing a scoped hunting rifle, which he proceeds to wipe down with an oily rag.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl looks at the two of them, rolling his eyes and trying to stifle a laugh.

" Would the two of you save the venom for the heretics?  Neither of you would likely survive on Kesh, any more than I would last too long in the Underhive...  I might be able to survive topside, but only because there are folks who worry more about which fork to use than which knife to stab you with.  
 

 'No doubt.'  Orla grins at the last part.  'If everyone on Kesh is as big as you I might want to avoid it.' 
bramblefoot
 

milo will watch with an approving eye as marcella pulls out the vanaheim  "a little big for close in work, and certainly not concealable"  he says, revealing a wrist flamer made of burnished steel.  "anyone within thirty meters ends up on fire if theyre not lucky"  he says, cracking a rictus.  "fuel canisters are mighty small, but it should provide a nasty surprise to anyone who thinks to mess with us" 
 
Bennosuke
 Act II Scene iii 
 'Necessity overcomes morality. Never without regret. Never without shame. Yet even immoral victory must outweigh moral defeat. The victor will have a chance to atone if conscience demands. The vanquished lose any such opportunity.' -Roboute Guilliman. 

Following a much needed albeit short interval of rest and recovery at the compound, the acolytes reassemble. Orla had found the chance to settle herself at the new location, though everything was moving rather fast. After briefly debriefing with The Interrogator, the acolytes depart for the upper hive, again traveling by railcar. However exotic it was for Orla to travel to the midhive, both the trip and the destination of this time were like nothing Orla had ever seen. Never in her life had she seen so much bright unfiltered sunlight. The sky was a radiant blue this high above the black polluted cloud bank that hung below. Never before had Orla not been cold. Though the others just seemed to be done shivering, Orla could feel her skin practically tickled with sweat. And the air was so clean, it's very lack of toxic fume stink was its own perfume. She found herself stopping regularly once off the oh so clean railcar to stare wide eyed at the massive marble statues, the majestic and lavishly designed architecture. It all seemed out of a child's fairy tale; this seemed the closest thing to heaven on earth that she had ever seen.

Robed (hopefully) in their Credit Guilder disguises (Orla has one too), the acolytes make their way through the spacious and well manicured streets as dusk settled on the city.

(OOC: Please describe what gear you are bringing and remember that anything beyond side arms and basic armor may be hard to conceal. I will also ask for a Perception check from whomever is willing to roll)
bramblefoot
milo buckles on the wrist flamer, and his orthlack stub pistol. he will wrap the basic lasgun in a large box marked  feminine products , just long and wide enough to fit the lasgun and its charge pack. he covers it with packing peanuts, and prays to the emperor it will be enough to get it into the upper hive. he'll stick to a flak vest.

he'll slap marcella on the shoulder and say  "like my carrying box?"  he jokes, as the party makes its way to the upper hive.  "i know of a small hatch we could toss him out of if your warpy stuff dont work"  he subvocalizes to marcella

orthlack
 

wrist flamer
 
Haval
In the compund Orla will take advantage of the facilities to take a nap and have the nicest shower she's been able to have for a while.

Later, she is awkwardly dressed in the heavy robes of the Credit Guilder disguise. It has the advantage of allowing her to hide a pair of pistols and a knife but seems otherwise unsuitable for the climate. She'd like to relax and focus on the view from the train but it's too hot for her and she can't help but fidget a little. If they weren't in public she might attempt to remove a layer of her clothing to cool down, but she'll have to suffer through the heat instead. At least the view was nice.  'They should let everyone up here. At least to visit.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Leaving the autogun at home

Perception vs. Per 39 (in case I can roll Awareness instead here, Orla has Awareness +10)
 (1d100)[ 82 ] 

Orla is distracted by the heat
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 
 Spoiler: Prep 
Marcella had gotten some much needed sleep. Once out of the debriefing with the Interrogator, Marc hit the bathroom and laundry, enjoying both the freshening up of a hot shower and putting her clothes through the wash. Naturally, prayers to the Emperor were forthcoming in her little single-bed domicile, and no sooner had she tucked herself in did she drift off to sleep where her mind floated through the endless space of the astral plane.

 oOo 
After a much-needed sleep, Marcella had a second shower and prepped for the day ahead. She had a routine that she adhered to, an inner schedule that had been ingrained into her for the past eleven years since arriving at the Scholastia Psykana. Awaken. Mourning prayers. Some push ups, sit ups and squats, followed by her shower then small meditation and breakfast. Marcella took the opportunity during meditation to draw several runes across her Talon Mk III gun and chant gently; communing her mind with its material matter and tying her mind to it so that it may be drawn through the warp and into the materium at a moments notice.
 


Marcella was dressed for the day. She wore her normal 'work' clothes, over which was her light, thin-fabric flak coat, and over that still was her credit guilder disguise longcoat. Three layers of clothing, and her backpack slung over that. She had a few spare magazines in her bag, but hopefully they wouldn't be needed.

The Psyker was thinking to herself how they were going to handle Drimmle. The big question, of course, was whether he was a deliberate traitor or had been forced. She wondered if -


 he'll slap marcella on the shoulder and say "like my carrying box?" he jokes, as the party makes its way to the upper hive. "i know of a small hatch we could toss him out of if your warpy stuff dont work" he subvocalizes to marcella 

Marc blinked and stumbled forward as the hit took her out of her thought process, her head pivoting about for an abrupt second before spotting it was Milo showing off his hidden box.

 "Oh, yes..."  she uttered, exhaling and masking the flash of anger she'd had at being hit,  "try not to over-do it too much though; armed credit guilders isn't cause for suspicion, but excessively armed ones might be." 

On the mention of Drimmle...  "Well, I think if it comes to that, we should stage it to look like a suicide. Guilt over an affair with a lady beyond repute, only honourable way out, that sort of thing"  she nodded gently.

Towards the Upper Hive, Marcella enjoyed the view as much as she could. Moving through the detritus of the atmosphere and ascending to the clouds and above into the clear blue skies. There was a natural beauty and elevation the Psyker felt to it all, the warm glow of a gentle day catching in her large, brown eyes as she peered out of the flexiglass with the awe of a little kid. This delight at her environment continued into the Upper Hive proper, with the tall, grand structures, clean streets and fresh air were a welcome reprieve. She'd been here more times than most who were not born within the comfortable protection of the walls, but she never ceased to feel exalted when visiting. This is what life could be. Even allowing her extra-sensory powerful brain just... roam  around the surrounding area, over the minds within and the surface thoughts. She was particularly interested in Orla's experience, sometimes looking over at the Underhiver and just watching her to see how she'd cope with her first trip to what might as well be another planet.

 "I think we should wait until dark, and enter Drimmle's home through the rear entrance, like last time,"  she would say to her companions when they were in a safe place to do so.

 "Even if Drimmle is a wash, we can secure his personal documents and codes for Hound to analyse." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "I think we should wait until dark, and enter Drimmle's home through the rear entrance, like last time,"  she would say to her companions when they were in a safe place to do so.

 "Even if Drimmle is a wash, we can secure his personal documents and codes for Hound to analyse."  
 

 'Fine by me. You want someone to keep watch on the place from the front? Just to make sure we know he's alone in there. I take it I'm the only one who he hasn't seen before?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "Last time it was just him and his servitor who we...well, it was an accident..."  she trailed off, clearly not liking the outcome.

 "If he has increased security, I'll know how many there are. You might be better off keeping watch from within his premise. We have not visited him in six weeks, so he might have gotten lax after an initial preparedness...but we shouldn't count on that." 
bramblefoot
 

milo snorts  "knowing drimmle, he will have increased security. no noble likes being caught with their pants down, specially not one like drimmle"  he will sigh  "still, lets hope and pray we get the jump on him. no reason to get cocky" 
Bennosuke
As the group meander their way through the streets, Marcella picks up on something that several of her companions seem to miss. Interspersed at random intervals is a man or woman who stops to take notice of them. Maybe they are out pretending to walk their canine, or passing by with companions on the way to a pleasure spa, but random people seem to be taking sudden notice of the group of credit guilders.
rax
 "I concur that we should try the back door again, but it seems likely he will have altered the access codes since our last visit. Even if his will to do the Emperor's work was genuine, I doubt he'll feel comfortable knowing that his security was breached the first time,"  Hound said to Marcella.

 "Will you be able to ascertain whether or not Drimmle is inside once we get to his building? If he isn't, but there are multiple other presences, that would increase the likelihood that we are walking into an ambush. The further away we can be aware of the situation inside, the better." 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "I concur that we should try the back door again, but it seems likely he will have altered the access codes since our last visit. Even if his will to do the Emperor's work was genuine, I doubt he'll feel comfortable knowing that his security was breached the first time,"  Hound said to Marcella.

 "Will you be able to ascertain whether or not Drimmle is inside once we get to his building? If he isn't, but there are multiple other presences, that would increase the likelihood that we are walking into an ambush. The further away we can be aware of the situation inside, the better."  
 

Marc nodded,  "Yes, I can tell if he's inside and how many others there are. I could begin once we get within a kilometre of his domicile." 

However, the Psyker soon noticed the concerning surveillance they seemed to be under. It couldn't be something official: they would've been stopped at the train station or the Interrogator would have heard of their faces and names ending up on wanted lists. This had to be private intelligence. The type nobles would use to spy on each other...

 "Guys..."  Marc would say/whisper sharply as they walled along.

 "We're being watched and tracked"  she visually pointed them out.

 "We should get off the main streets..." 
Haval
Orla knew better then to turn towards the watchers. This sort of thing she understood.  'So do we lose them or try to find out who they're working for?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "I can...nab one, as we go into the back alleys? Get him to come with us peaceably. Then we could find out who they are and who they're working for? " she offered the group.
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 
 "I can...nab one, as we go into the back alleys? Get him to come with us peaceably. Then we could find out who they are and who they're working for? " she offered the group. 
 

 "i approve of that idea"  milo subvocalizes.  "nab him, interrogate him, and dispose of him" 

to marcella  "after were finished with him, you think you can give him an aneurysm so hes toast on a bun?" 
Haval
 'And if they notice one of their mates wandering off? Although if they aren't organised enough to be working as a group they deserve to get their head messed with.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "Anything I could do in that capacity is...messy. It's best you or Arl take care of it,"  Marcella uttered to Milo, her face remaining forward as the group continued to walk, pretending as if they had not yet spotted their observers.

 "If they're that organised then they all know about us already, so we're the ones missing out on the intel of who they are and who they work for if we don't act." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
  Act II Scene iii 
 'Necessity overcomes morality. Never without regret. Never without shame. Yet even immoral victory must outweigh moral defeat. The victor will have a chance to atone if conscience demands. The vanquished lose any such opportunity.' -Roboute Guilliman. 

Following a much needed albeit short interval of rest and recovery at the compound, the acolytes reassemble. Orla had found the chance to settle herself at the new location, though everything was moving rather fast. After briefly debriefing with The Interrogator, the acolytes depart for the upper hive, again traveling by railcar. However exotic it was for Orla to travel to the midhive, both the trip and the destination of this time were like nothing Orla had ever seen. Never in her life had she seen so much bright unfiltered sunlight. The sky was a radiant blue this high above the black polluted cloud bank that hung below. Never before had Orla not been cold. Though the others just seemed to be done shivering, Orla could feel her skin practically tickled with sweat. And the air was so clean, it's very lack of toxic fume stink was its own perfume. She found herself stopping regularly once off the oh so clean railcar to stare wide eyed at the massive marble statues, the majestic and lavishly designed architecture. It all seemed out of a child's fairy tale; this seemed the closest thing to heaven on earth that she had ever seen.

Robed (hopefully) in their Credit Guilder disguises (Orla has one too), the acolytes make their way through the spacious and well manicured streets as dusk settled on the city.

(OOC: Please describe what gear you are bringing and remember that anything beyond side arms and basic armor may be hard to conceal. I will also ask for a Perception check from whomever is willing to roll) 
 

(OOC:  Arl will have his stub automatics concealed under his cloak.)

Arl looked about, keeping a wary eye for trouble.

 (1d100)[ 76 ] 
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 
 "Anything I could do in that capacity is...messy. It's best you or Arl take care of it,"  Marcella uttered to Milo, her face remaining forward as the group continued to walk, pretending as if they had not yet spotted their observers.

 "If they're that organised then they all know about us already, so we're the ones missing out on the intel of who they are and who they work for if we don't act."  
 

 
 "understood"  milo chirps.  "play it cool, and if push comes to shove, violence does breed violence"  he sighs  "i miss my flak jacket" 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "I can...nab one, as we go into the back alleys? Get him to come with us peaceably. Then we could find out who they are and who they're working for? " she offered the group. 
 

  "Are you able to read their thoughts discreetly while we remain here out in the open and go about our business? That would have the advantage of not revealing to them that they have been detected,"  Hound pointed out.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc pursed her lips at the question, then shook her head gently.

 "Not discretely,"  she answered.  "It would take all of my focus, I'd have to stop in the street and concentrate; and they'd know I was attempting scan them." 
Haval
Orla replies quietly,  'If they know you can do that and they know what to look for I'd say we might have other problems.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella kept facing forward, her shorter stature allowing her to blend in with the taller males of their group and giving her leeway to talk a touch more, quietly.

 "They shouldn't; I couldn't do it last time." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marcella kept facing forward, her shorter stature allowing her to blend in with the taller males of their group and giving her leeway to talk a touch more, quietly.

 "They shouldn't; I couldn't do it last time."  
 

 'Then hopefully that makes things easier.'  Orla replied. She is suddenly curious what would happen if these were the sort of people who might try to arrest them rather then try to kill them. Was it simply a matter of calling the boss in that situation?
rax
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marc pursed her lips at the question, then shook her head gently.

 "Not discretely,"  she answered.  "It would take all of my focus, I'd have to stop in the street and concentrate; and they'd know I was attempting scan them."  
 

  "Well then, "nabbing" one of them or luring them into a side street seems like the next best option. Does your "nabbing" allow the victim to move naturally, or will his colleagues be able to observe unusual movement patterns or other behaviour?" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Well then, "nabbing" one of them or luring them into a side street seems like the next best option. Does your "nabbing" allow the victim to move naturally, or will his colleagues be able to observe unusual movement patterns or other behaviour?"  
 

 "We'll both walk a bit slower...at a leisurely pace,"  she smiled bashfully.
bramblefoot
 
 "when you get him, we need to make this fast and quick"  milo says  "the longer we dally, the longer they have to find out one of their own is missing, and the longer they have to warn drimmle" 

he shrugs.  "body disposal was never one of the things they taught in the priesthood, but certain household chems do the same thing" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
  
 "when you get him, we need to make this fast and quick"  milo says  "the longer we dally, the longer they have to find out one of their own is missing, and the longer they have to warn drimmle" 

he shrugs.  "body disposal was never one of the things they taught in the priesthood, but certain household chems do the same thing"  
 

Orla shrugged,  'Is there a river up here.'  How would that even work? But she wouldn't discount the possibility.  'Or toss him over the edge if we're close enough.' 
Bennosuke
Hound picks up on the monitoring as well, catching on a little bit behind Marcella. Arl doesn't pick up on much. Marcella begins to lead the group across the street, toward an alley that sits between a lavish apartment building of obsidian colored glass, and "small" exotic grocery of polished marble and gold. As she does, she catches the eye of the nearest  observer , a woman with a heavily lined face, dressed in a showy pink day gown and pushing baby's pram. The woman's face spasms as Marcella exerts her telepathic will over the spy. As the acolytes wander into the alley, the woman stumbles in line behind them, pushing the pram, following Marcella and the others as far as the psyker wills it.

**************************************************  ****************

 Earlier 

Arl was back at the Commissar's Tavern, tucked far back into a booth in the pungent depths of dreary drinking hole. He had managed to quickly befriend a one of the line workers at Station Tollares; a cow eyed stick of a man with skin the color of his rheumy eyes. He looked like a void-born, twitched like a void-born, and smelled of spaceships. He'd said he'd been working at Station Tollares for nearly four decades, and had worked cleaning crew on almost every ship that had come in and out of the hive at one point or another. He wasn't supposed to talk about what he'd seen, guild secrecy or something, but that had been about three drinks ago. Now Pip was in his cups and slurring his words bad. With any luck, he knew something about this Mercutio, or the Rogue Trader he worked for.
bramblefoot
 

as milo sees the pram, his face cracks into a sadistic grin.  "good spot to conceal a weapon, or a frag grenade"  he says.  "push comes to shove, stick a frag in there and roll it off to its destination. as the preacher says  in death, the emperor knows his own " 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc inhaled as she felt a part of her consciousness slither into the mind of the woman - like sticking her hand into a jar within which was a pillow to suppress beneath her strength. Whoever the woman was, she was no longer in control as her mind was compressed and Marcella's will filled itself into the mental gap left behind, seizing control of the apparatus of the womans nervous system and compelling her forward again to silently follow the acolytes down a side alley, and then around a corner into a backstreet, all safe from view as the towering, ornately decorated buildings around them stood silently.

 "Frisk her..."  Marcella offered quietly to anyone who wished to do so, the presence of a pram not swaying the psyker much as the lines on the womans face marked her as too old for offspring anyway.

Wasting no time, the telepath willed the woman to come into their purview, where she took off her thin-skinned, black glove and pressed her bare palm against her forehead and her fingers against her scalp, like an grasping spider - her consciousness pouring through to drill even deeper to reveal what secrets this agent knew...
Haval
Orla will move away from the others to find a doorway or darkened area in the alleyway where she could surprise anyone who might decide to follow the woman into the alleyway. Better to be safe then sorry.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Stealth vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
 (1d100)[ 45 ] 

Awareness vs. Per 39 (Awareness +10)
 (1d100)[ 7 ] 
 
bramblefoot
 

milo will casually pat the woman down and relieve her of her microbead if she has one. after that, he'll search the baby carrier, and see if there is anything in there

search roll TN 11
 (1d100)[ 80 ] 

milo is really not seeing much today is he?
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
  Earlier 

Arl was back at the Commissar's Tavern, tucked far back into a booth in the pungent depths of dreary drinking hole. He had managed to quickly befriend a one of the line workers at Station Tollares; a cow eyed stick of a man with skin the color of his rheumy eyes. He looked like a void-born, twitched like a void-born, and smelled of spaceships. He'd said he'd been working at Station Tollares for nearly four decades, and had worked cleaning crew on almost every ship that had come in and out of the hive at one point or another. He wasn't supposed to talk about what he'd seen, guild secrecy or something, but that had been about three drinks ago. Now Pip was in his cups and slurring his words bad. With any luck, he knew something about this Mercutio, or the Rogue Trader he worked for. 
 

Arl signaled for another round for each of them, letting Pip take first choice as was his custom.

" It must be something to see, all those ships... cargos from Emperor knows where!  Arl said, in his best wistful voice.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla will move away from the others to find a doorway or darkened area in the alleyway where she could surprise anyone who might decide to follow the woman into the alleyway. Better to be safe then sorry.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Stealth vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
 (1d100)[ 21 ] 

Awareness vs. Per 39 (Awareness +10)
 (1d100)[ 21 ] 
 
 
 

Arl took up a similar position at the other end of the alleyway, keeping an eye peeled for anyone suspicious.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

 (1d100)[ 21 ]  for Stealth against a 51 (Agility of 41, Stealth+10)

 (1d100)[ 21 ]  for Awareness against a 50 (Perception of 40, Awareness+10)
 
rax
Hound observes the proceeding silently, waiting for the results of Marcella's mind games.
Bennosuke
Following Marcella's command, Milo steps forward and attempts to frisk the woman. Perhaps it is his chaste upbringing that leads to The Father's discomfort in thoroughly exploring the many layers of her frilly pink dress, but after a quick pat down, Father Milo backs off empty handed.

With her ungloved hand on the woman's temple, Marcella begins to delve into the woman's subconscious, while the poor spy can only look into her eyes, glare, and grit her teeth. The woman's mind is a wall of resistance, and at first Marcella struggles to even start her power, but after a few more moments she can feel the woman's mind giving way, bit by bit. The woman moans, and blood begins to dribble out of the front of her mouth, after she accidentally bites her tongue. Deeper and deeper Marcella delves, as time trickles by.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Marcella is able to access information on a subconscious level. However, her Dominate power has to be re-activated every 10 rounds, and as per the sustained powers rules! It will have taken time to walk into the alley and frisk the woman, plus the mind scan takes place over 5 rounds itself. So I will give Marcella the time to ask three questions that would apply to the subconscious level, before her Dominate power slips. She can maintain it with another power roll, per page 164, and have free access to continue delving the spy's mind... however, also see below.
 


While Milo and Marcella are working, both Arl and Orla take point near the entrance of alley, hiding while also taking watch. Not long after they take their positions, they are both able to witness from cover as three undercover agents begin to converge on the alley. The three move with sudden purpose. One is a tall and thin man in a red frock coat; a regal looking rapier and a las pistol visible at his belt. The second looks like an ex-guardsman, shaved head and all muscle. He's dressed in upperhive finery as well, though the costume just doesn't fit him, and he's reaching into his overjacket for some sort of weapon as he gets closer. The third is an older looking woman, whom you would never have noticed was too fit for an upperhiver, if she wasn't approaching with murder in her dark eyes. She is walking with the assistance of a bejewled golden cane, but a closer look (achieved by both characters) reveals it to likely be some sort of shock weapon.

(OOC: Well, this should be fun)
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 While Milo and Marcella are working, both Arl and Orla take point near the entrance of alley, hiding while also taking watch. Not long after they take their positions, they are both able to witness from cover as three undercover agents begin to converge on the alley. The three move with sudden purpose. One is a tall and thin man in a red frock coat; a regal looking rapier and a las pistol visible at his belt. The second looks like an ex-guardsman, shaved head and all muscle. He's dressed in upperhive finery as well, though the costume just doesn't fit him, and he's reaching into his overjacket for some sort of weapon as he gets closer. The third is an older looking woman, whom you would never have noticed was too fit for an upperhiver, if she wasn't approaching with murder in her dark eyes. She is walking with the assistance of a bejewled golden cane, but a closer look (achieved by both characters) reveals it to likely be some sort of shock weapon.

(OOC: Well, this should be fun) 
 

Arl mutters a brief prayer to the Emperor and clicks off the safety of one of his stub automatics and begins lining up a shot on the face of the rapier-wielding popinjay from concealment.
Haval
Orla is unhappy to have been proven right. She will slide her hand cannon out of her robes to join the knife she's already carrying in her other hand. She has no idea if Arl is paying attention but if he can see her from where she's hiding she'll mouth  Wait  towards him. If you really had to shoot someone it was always better to do it from behind while they were distracted.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

I assume we're standing in slightly different points as it would make it easier to hide.

Waiting to see how this plays out.
 
bramblefoot
 

milo will coolly snap the spys wrists, so should she come out of her trance and try anything, her wrists will be compound fractured. he then pulls his orthlack from his belt, and takes cover on the bend of the wall

 "after you're finished with her, put a hole in her brainpan"  he subvocalizes to marcella

milo will half move, half aim down the corridor
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The telepath's eyes were closed, her lips pursed as she held her hand against the womans head. The Psyker had never sustained two powers before, particularly two that were as demanding as this: controlling someones mind completely  and  scanning it at the same time. Maintaining her apprehension over the other womans faculties and body, Marcella continued to sift through her psyche, plunging deeper and deeper as the world of the spy flashed around her as she searched for those crucial details...
rax
Hound notes Arl and Orla's activity and draws his own silenced pistol in response.  "Company coming?"  he asks, while looking around for a convenient place to take cover.

 @bramblefoot 
Maybe you should check with Bennosuke whether breaking the prisoner's wrists will give her a new chance to resist Marcella's powers. There's no need to make this more difficult than it has to be.
Bennosuke
 Arl signaled for another round for each of them, letting Pip take first choice as was his custom.

"It must be something to see, all those ships... cargos from Emperor knows where! Arl said, in his best wistful voice. 

Pip nodded his head vigorously, greasy thinning hair flopping almost wetly. He stopped the motion when he was struck by the sudden need to burp; creating a stench of raw alcohol that crept across the table to Arl. Eyes staring down at his half emptied cup, Pip replied, " Yup. Makesh you feel closhe to the Emperor. " Eyes still fixed on his drink, a bafoonish grin spreads across Pip's face, showing a number of blackened sickly teeth spread apart by the absence of their lost brothers. " Honestly, makesh you wanna go... back up there. " With one free hand he points up at the ceiling, while with the other, he brings the glass of rotgut up to his mouth and takes a noisy slurp.

************************************************


 The three questions:
1. Drimmles current status, where he's located, is he calling the shots or is he being "minded" (i.e was he relatively loyal to us or not).
2. Their organisation and who they work for and why they are following us and their mission.
3. Their current deployment locations and area coverage, numbers, security at Drimmles current location etc. 

Sifting through the woman's thoughts was like navigating a vast network of rivers. Marcella felt herself pulled forward as she moved deeper into the spy's consciousness, as she attempted to direct her awareness towards the information she sought. Her first answer comes in a near stream of consciousness. Marcella was aware of how this woman (Serellia was her name) distrusted Drimmle and thought of him as a cheap employer. While she didn't keep tabs on the man, Serellia imagined Drimmle holed up and scared in his mansion, aware that something bad had happened to him, which was why she and her colleagues had been hired. It seemed that Serellia worked for a private security force that was unapologetically named "The Star Guard Force". There were at a total of twelve officers that Drimmle had payed for. Serellia and five others had been deployed out onto the streets surrounding Ser Drimmle's property, and were expected to report if they had any sightings of a group of Credit Guilders nearby.

... Marcella also knew that Serellia hadn't had the chance to call in such a sighting, but it was likely that someone they passed had done so by now...

The other six security officers were now actively patrolling Ser Drimmle's property, after  someone  had trashed his security servitor.


 I am going to hold here; first to see if Marcella is going to try to "sustain" her Dominate power over the spy, two to allow Marcella... and Milo to react to Hound's update that they "have company". Interestingly, there isn't much information on maintaining Dominate that has to do with resisting pain, such as an attack on the character's wrist. However, it does make it clear that any action that is suicidal... such as staying still while someone puts a gun to your head, would allow for another contested roll. I think I want to hold off on allowing Milo to attack the woman's wrist, as this will be nigh on impossible if Marcella doesn't maintain control of the spy's body. 

By the alley entrance, the three draw closer. The ex-guardsman hollers blindly into the alley, " Hey, what's going on here? " The trio still just under ten meters from the mouth of alley.
bramblefoot
 

milo will call back  "credit guilder business. we have reason to believe shes shorting the guild. i will warn you that the same goes for interferers. do you really want your tithe to go up?" 

deceive test

 (1d100)[ 76 ] 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc's mind sifted through the neuronal networks and tethered memories, her prying mindseye scooping up much that this woman knew. Though an even deeper, all-encompassing scan was possible, now simply wasn't the time. She had revealed what they needed to know.

Snapping back into reality, exhaling and releasing the woman, Marcella drew in a few deep breaths to recover herself. She had strained herself out on  two  powers, two complicated and intensive manifestations simultaneously, and she could feel the tensions releasing from her muscles as she recomposed herself. As the spy came out of her mental lockdown, she doubtlessly noticed the presence of Hound who had his suppressed pistol in hand.

 "Put your arms out to your sides please, ma'am,"  Marcella asked, her expression gentle but with a detached demeanor. Knowing she had no hope of ever being intimidating, she opted for quiet politeness instead,  "if you make any move for a weapon, to call for help or to touch a vox-comms, my associate will shoot you. Please spare us all the trouble." 

Looking past the woman and to Hound, Marcella spoke quietly.

 "Drimmle hired them, they're private security. There's 6 deployed out here, 6 at his residence where he is holed up. They were to report in any sightings of Credit Guilders. This ones name is Serellia, and she doesn't trust Drimmle either and thinks he doesn't pay enough. But they are with the The Star Guard Force, likely with contracts to other nobles, and so I doubt they would want their reputation tarnished by accepting bribes. This one has not reported in yet, but the others likely have." 

Acting as if the woman wasn't there, doubtless recovering from just coming out of both being mentally dominated and having her mind invaded and sifted through, Marc tilted her head as she heard Milo speaking down to others around the corner of the alley - other agents of Drimmle, no doubt.

Looking back over to Hound, she gestured towards the alley with the new comers and then to Serellia.

 "Should I put them under, Sir? Leaving a bunch of corpses in the alley might draw too much attention. But if we just tie them up and leave them here we'll have a few hours before they're able to interfere and they won't go to the Arbite's, because what private security wants the reputation of having to rely on the authorities to bail them out?" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip nodded his head vigorously, greasy thinning hair flopping almost wetly. He stopped the motion when he was struck by the sudden need to burp; creating a stench of raw alcohol that crept across the table to Arl. Eyes staring down at his half emptied cup, Pip replied, " Yup. Makesh you feel closhe to the Emperor. " Eyes still fixed on his drink, a bafoonish grin spreads across Pip's face, showing a number of blackened sickly teeth spread apart by the absence of their lost brothers. " Honestly, makesh you wanna go... back up there. " With one free hand he points up at the ceiling, while with the other, he brings the glass of rotgut up to his mouth and takes a noisy slurp. 
 

Arl slurred his words with a drunkeness he didn't quite feel.

"Wha's it like, being aboard one of dem grand ships?  Whas the kinna things aboard?"
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla is unhappy to have been proven right. She will slide her hand cannon out of her robes to join the knife she's already carrying in her other hand. She has no idea if Arl is paying attention but if he can see her from where she's hiding she'll mouth  Wait  towards him. If you really had to shoot someone it was always better to do it from behind while they were distracted. 
 

Arl gives Orla a quick nod, then goes back to lining up his shot.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Should I put them under, Sir? Leaving a bunch of corpses in the alley might draw too much attention. But if we just tie them up and leave them here we'll have a few hours before they're able to interfere and they won't go to the Arbite's, because what private security wants the reputation of having to rely on the authorities to bail them out?"  
 

  "Do it - the less violence the better,"  Hound agrees.

Lifting his gun, he points it at Serellia's head.  "You are a professional. You should be aware that we are very serious people and we will not be swayed from our course of action. You understand that if you cause us any trouble, you will be the first to die, yes? Nod if you understand, then sit down against that wall,"  he says quietly to her.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Do it - the less violence the better,"  Hound agrees. 
 


Marcella nodded.

 "Yes Sir." 

Her psyche pushed out of her mind and towards the four others present: the woman before her and the three in the alleyway, a screeching, high-pitched wail along an exhausting timbre that only they could perceive, much to their detriment, as the psykers mind ate into their nervous systems to shut them down.
Haval
Orla has realised she is largely dependent on how the rest of the group chooses to behave here. The main problem with using guns out in the open would be who chose to come looking. Perhaps the Interrogator had the clout to make the Enforcers go away in the worse case situation but that wouldn't help if the cops just decided to shoot first rather then arresting them. If it ever got really bad perhaps she could leave them to it.
Bennosuke
 milo will call back "credit guilder business. we have reason to believe shes shorting the guild. i will warn you that the same goes for interferers. do you really want your tithe to go up?" 

Father Milo's call doesn't receive any responses, though Arl and Orla witness the ex-guardsman sneer.


 "Put your arms out to your sides please, ma'am," Marcella asked, her expression gentle but with a detached demeanor. Knowing she had no hope of ever being intimidating, she opted for quiet politeness instead, "if you make any move for a weapon, to call for help or to touch a vox-comms, my associate will shoot you. Please spare us all the trouble." 

As Marcella releases her mental grasp, the woman stumbles back slightly. She utters an audible gasp, and another river of blood pours out over her bottom lip. Eyes going wide till almost the entire orb is visible in the sockets, she puts a hand up, as if she had not heard Marcella's words at all. Breathlessly she utters, " What... what on Terra did you do to me? " The blood is now trickling down her chin and neck, creating droplet and rivulet stains over the front of her pink day dress. With terror etched onto her face, the spy's gaze jumps around the alley, frantically registering where she is as she tries to process what has just happened.


 Lifting his gun, he points it at Serellia's head. "You are a professional. You should be aware that we are very serious people and we will not be swayed from our course of action. You understand that if you cause us any trouble, you will be the first to die, yes? Nod if you understand, then sit down against that wall," he says quietly to her. 

The gesture causes the woman to flinch, as if it were the first time a gun had ever been pointed at her. She whimpers a little, but after a moment seems to get a hold of herself. She slowly raises her head up, bringing a hardened glare back at Hound. She raises both hands, as she nods in compliance. Then very slowly she lowers herself into a squat, all the time her eyes remain fixed defiantly on Hound.


 Marcella nodded.

"Yes Sir."

Her psyche pushed out of her mind and towards the four others present: the woman before her and the three in the alleyway, a screeching, high-pitched wail along an exhausting timbre that only they could perceive, much to their detriment, as the psykers mind ate into their nervous systems to shut them down 

Within moments the air was charged with an almost electric energy. Marcella directs her psychic voice out, targeting the Star Guard Force members. Though the attack was inaudible to the others, the psychic shriek was enough to knock a man fully unconscious. All four members were struck suddenly, crying out, reaching for their ears and wincing in pain. The guardsman and the old woman both dropped to the ground unconscious, blood tricking from their eyes and ears. Despite Hound's command, Serellia dropped to all fours, pushing her forehead into the pavement, nails clawing at her hair.

But the man in the red frockcoat remained upright. Unclasping his gloved hands from his head, he looked around in shock  at his collapsed companions. Whispering something inaudible under his breath, he draws the rapier in one hand, the pistol in the other, and begins charging into the alley.

(OOC: Not going to ask for initiative here, because I don't think combat is necessary)

**************************************************  *


 Arl slurred his words with a drunkeness he didn't quite feel.

"Wha's it like, being aboard one of dem grand ships? Whas the kinna things aboard?" 

The question draws another foolish grin across the man's narrow face. He chuckles and replies, " Ish like bein' home! " He slaps his knee and chuckles again, though it leads into a fit of weak coughs. When Pip has finally recovered himself, he drains his glass, and when he places it back on the table he says, " Better hurry up with yoursh. " Then he leans across the table toward Arl, resting an elbow so that he can support his heavy head in one hand. " You've never been on a ship? "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 **************************************************  *



The question draws another foolish grin across the man's narrow face. He chuckles and replies, " Ish like bein' home! " He slaps his knee and chuckles again, though it leads into a fit of weak coughs. When Pip has finally recovered himself, he drains his glass, and when he places it back on the table he says, " Better hurry up with yoursh. " Then he leans across the table toward Arl, resting an elbow so that he can support his heavy head in one hand. " You've never been on a ship? " 
 

Arl "clumsily" knocks back the rest of his drink, letting half of it roll of chin, the pastes wistful look on his face.

" Nope, ne're been aboard so mush a shuttle, let alone a grand ship like that. 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Within moments the air was charged with an almost electric energy. Marcella directs her psychic voice out, targeting the Star Guard Force members. Though the attack was inaudible to the others, the psychic shriek was enough to knock a man fully unconscious. All four members were struck suddenly, crying out, reaching for their ears and wincing in pain. The guardsman and the old woman both dropped to the ground unconscious, blood tricking from their eyes and ears. Despite Hound's command, Serellia dropped to all fours, pushing her forehead into the pavement, nails clawing at her hair.

But the man in the red frockcoat remained upright. Unclasping his gloved hands from his head, he looked around in shock  at his collapsed companions. Whispering something inaudible under his breath, he draws the rapier in one hand, the pistol in the other, and begins charging into the alley. 
 

Arl gives his best steely look and lines up his shot on the charging popinjay, drawling in a loud but matter-of-fact voice " I wouldn't do that if I were you... "
bramblefoot
 

milo will point the gun at the man, wait for him to get out of sight from the proles in the street, and then put a shot into him. the shot goes wide. milo sighs and gives the gun a prefunctory smack to punish it for its disobedience

bs test tn 56

 (1d100)[ 73 ] 
 (1d10+4)[ 13 ] 
Haval
Orla will follow Arl's lead by pointing her own gun at the man before whistling to get his attention. She had no idea what had just happened but assumed Marcella might have had something to do with it.

If there was no indication she might have to use her weapon she'll lean down to check to see if the old woman seemed to still be breathing. Her gun will remain loosely pointed in the man's direction even as she bends down.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc sent her psyche wailing across the four unfortunate Star Guards, all four of them gripping at their skulls as the overwhelming static screamed down their nervous system and rendered two of them unconscious within seconds. It was not a pleasant experience, the sensation being the equivalent to running an exhausting fifty mile marathon compressed into a few seconds.

Hearing the couple tumble over, Marcella opened her eyes. Seeing the woman on the ground whom she had interrogated, was barely with them, the Psyker then looked in the direction of the others; the flamboyantly dressed man rounding the corner and into three waiting pistols pointed at him. Milo gave what Marcella assumed was a warning shot as it went wide (and she thanked the Emperor he had a suppressor on the weapon), while Arl explained the situation to the man.

 "Don't worry, she's not dead,"  Marcella said to Orla, noting she was taking the downed womans pulse.

 "They're just sleeping for a while." 
 Assuming  the man surrenders, Marcella trots over to the downed woman and man. She squats, grips the woman by her wrists, and uses her own leg-power to drag her back around the corner into their enclave.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Don't worry, she's not dead,"  Marcella said to Orla, noting she was taking the downed womans pulse.

 "They're just sleeping for a while."  
 

 'Just wondered.'  Orla shrugged. She didn't especially care about whether these people were dead or not. At least they seem to have gone down quietly.  'The stuff you do.'  She looks impressed.
Bennosuke
 Arl "clumsily" knocks back the rest of his drink, letting half of it roll of chin, the pastes wistful look on his face.

"Nope, ne're been aboard so mush a shuttle, let alone a grand ship like that. 

" Sure, sure, " the man says with a sleepy nod of his head (though it sounds more like sher, sher). After a moment, his eyes brighten a little as if remembering something and he says, " Ya shaid you wanted to know about someone? A rogue trader or shomethin'? "

**************************************************  *******

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
See OOC thread for the main scene
 
Haval
Noting that the man wasn't backing down, Orla will take a shot at his leg. It was technically self-defense.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Initiative 15

Half Action - Aim
Half Action - Hand Cannon

vs. BS 42 (-10 Called Shot with Deadeye Shot) (+10 Short Range) (+10 Aim)
 (1d100)[ 4 ] 
Any damage
 (1d10+4)[ 6 ] 
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

At receiving Orla's compliment, Marcella smiled bashfully.

Until the shooting started.

Time seemed to slow down as the flamboyantly dressed fellow took umbradge to being shot at by Milo, bringing his weapon up to level at the group. Orla responded in kind.

 "Wait, n - !"  is all the Psyker got out before the handcannon went off.

Out of reflex, Marc shot a part of her mind out to seize the hostile mans faculties and bring him under control.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Sure, sure, " the man says with a sleepy nod of his head (though it sounds more like sher, sher). After a moment, his eyes brighten a little as if remembering something and he says, " Ya shaid you wanted to know about someone? A rogue trader or shomethin'? "

**************************************************  *******

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
See OOC thread for the main scene
 
 
 

Arl hiccuped and smiled.  Still slurring his words, he replied " Yesh...  Fella's name was Cassimire... cut a mighty powerful figger, walking like a real toff -- like he could buy'nsell the planet..." 
Bennosuke
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl hiccuped and smiled.  Still slurring his words, he replied " Yesh...  Fella's name was Cassimire... cut a mighty powerful figger, walking like a real toff -- like he could buy'nsell the planet..."  
 

Pip's eyes immediately go wide, and a grin spreads across his face. " Casmirre? As in Rogue Trader Perrus Casmirre? " he asks, though it comes out sounding more like ' cashmere ', " I know that bloke. Worked on his ship many timesh. Doeshn't come around much no more though. " Pip's thoughts stray here as he looks down at his empty glass. Still grinning he looks back up at Arl and says, " Any chance ya wanna buy ush another? "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl gives his best steely look and lines up his shot on the charging popinjay, drawling in a loud but matter-of-fact voice " I wouldn't do that if I were you... " 
 

Arl mutters a curse about the precipitous nature of some folks and opens fire.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
BS of 49+20(max aim)+10+10 (semi-automatic burst) -10 (headshot) = 79

 (1d100)[ 17 ] 
 (1d10+5)[ 11 ] 
 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl mutters a curse about the precipitous nature of some folks and opens fire.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
BS of 49+20(max aim)+10+10 (semi-automatic burst) -10 (headshot) = 79

[roll0]

[roll1]
 
 
 

My bad -- should have been 69... I cannot fire a semi-automatic burst for a called shot.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip's eyes immediately go wide, and a grin spreads across his face. " Casmirre? As in Rogue Trader Perrus Casmirre? " he asks, though it comes out sounding more like ' cashmere ', " I know that bloke. Worked on his ship many timesh. Doeshn't come around much no more though. " Pip's thoughts stray here as he looks down at his empty glass. Still grinning he looks back up at Arl and says, " Any chance ya wanna buy ush another? " 
 

Arl smiles and signals the waitress for another round.
Bennosuke
 Arl mutters a curse about the precipitous nature of some folks and opens fire. 

Arl snaps off a shot forcing the man in red to dart to the side. There is a sudden flash of red as the slug sheers the side of the man's face, lifting him off of his feet.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Arl a makes successful called shot for the face, dealing a raw 11 damage, the man fails to dodge. After TB this drops the damage down to 8 as his head is unarmored
 


 Noting that the man wasn't backing down, Orla will take a shot at his leg. It was technically self-defense. 

Orla is next to respond, her hand cannon roaring in the alley. Her shot wing's the man's leg before his feet hit the ground. When he does land, the man in red's legs collapse under him, and he stumbles to a knee, weapons still in hand.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Orla's called shot on the leg lands. He's wearing armor and damage roll isn't great, dropping it to one additional damage.
 


 Out of reflex, Marc shot a part of her mind out to seize the hostile mans faculties and bring him under control. 

Marcella is only able to finish reaching out with her mind, after the gunfight has started. But as the man in red goes down on one knee, she takes over his faculties. The man is successfully dominated and under Marcella's control. It is technically now the man's turn, which Marcella can dictate, though I suspect she will hold him still and tell the other's not to attack?

Otherwise we will get to Hound knocking out Serellia with a second pistol whip.

***********************************************

The waitress looks to be too young to be in such a joint, her face a rash of oily skin and acne. When she turns away Pip nods his head and repeats himself, " Yep, I know the old Rogue Trader. Heck of a fella'. Why ya wanna know about him? "
bramblefoot
 

milo will pull a red cloth over his mouth and nose and snap on a pair of black leather gloves, relieving the popinjay of his weapons. he tucks them into his bag, and sighs.  "silencers are a godsend, orla"  he says. next he snags the shock staff by the handle, and then will open the ex-guardsmans coat to see what is inside.

assuming they're not interrupted, he'll strip em down to their skivvies and then let the psyker tie them up

bennosuke

can you deduct a red face cloth and a pair of black leather gloves from milos funds
Haval
 'I'll pick one up next time I'm at the store.'  Orla replies flippantly. She'll watch Milo's looting with curiosity,  'Normally when something like this happens I'd like to put some distance between me and the mess, but maybe that all works differently when Marcella's here.'  She'll look towards Marcella and Hound.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella poured a part of her mind into the skull of the flamboyantly dressed man - right after it was almost blown off by Arl.

Flinching gently, smelling and seeing the blood, Marc seized the mans faculties and directed him over to kneel with the others, where he would be bound.

 "Orla's right,"  the psyker said to Milo.

 "You'll have to give their weapons back. In 1 kilometer from here we're just a group of credit guilders, but those weapons connect us to this scene. Just take their comms."  she explained to the man, before she turned her eyes to look at the one she had under her mental power.

 "Go to sleep,"  she said softly, the mans eyes closing as he slumped down next to his fellows.

 "Also, sorry..."  the psyker reached out for Orla with her hands, gently taking her gun off of her.

 "We're better off giving anyone that comes across this a story to go with; this woman was accosted and shot them back. We'll get you a replacement later. I'll let you use my firearm."  she explained, wiping Orla's handcannon down of finger prints and then putting it into the hand of the woman in pink, who was doubtlessly off to slumber land after Hound pistol-whipped her unconscious.

Once that was done, Marc gestured down the alley,  "we have to get going; someone probably heard that and those two will be waking back up in a few minutes." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The waitress looks to be too young to be in such a joint, her face a rash of oily skin and acne. When she turns away Pip nods his head and repeats himself, " Yep, I know the old Rogue Trader. Heck of a fella'. Why ya wanna know about him? " 
 

" Like I said, he prolly could buy'n'sell this plannet...  'es free to come and go as he will, not like us folk.  I've ne'er even been beyond midhive - it just is sumfin interest'n to me." 
Haval
 'Don't care about their stuff.'  Orla will glance up for any windows that were close enough for potential witnesses.  'Just saying we shouldn't hang about. Just in case.'  Orla will pass Marcella her gun. She still had an autopistol on her.

To Arl,  'Nice shot.' 
bramblefoot
 

milo sighs.  "real nice shock cane tho"  he says, tucking it inside his jacket, where a single long pocket is.  "nobodys gonna notice"  he says soothingly to marcella.  "the pocket has an inbuilt null sensor. ill take it and get it stripped of all the frills"  its quite obvious that milo is very unwilling to part with this
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Don't care about their stuff.'  Orla will glance up for any windows that were close enough for potential witnesses.  'Just saying we shouldn't hang about. Just in case.'  Orla will pass Marcella her gun. She still had an autopistol on her.

To Arl,  'Nice shot.'  
 


Maecella nodded in agreement,  "I think you're right,"  she concurred.

She hurriedly helped to remove the comms, then flee the scene with her fellow Acolytes.


 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 milo sighs.  "real nice shock cane tho"  he says, tucking it inside his jacket, where a single long pocket is.  "nobodys gonna notice"  he says soothingly to marcella.  "the pocket has an inbuilt null sensor. ill take it and get it stripped of all the frills"  its quite obvious that milo is very unwilling to part with this 
 

Marc will just stare at Milo for a few long seconds, her impassive expression making it hard to determine what she was thinking, though it was clearly nothing positive.

Finally shaking her head in visible disappointment, she helped grabbed the comms off the downed Star Guards and then got the hell out of there with the others.
Bennosuke
 Marcella poured a part of her mind into the skull of the flamboyantly dressed man - right after it was almost blown off by Arl.

Flinching gently, smelling and seeing the blood, Marc seized the mans faculties and directed him over to kneel with the others, where he would be bound.

...

"Go to sleep," she said softly, the mans eyes closing as he slumped down next to his fellows. 

The man's eyes go wide for a brief moment as Marcella's will overrides his own, then a moment later he is slumping to the ground, lids heavy.


 milo sighs. "real nice shock cane tho" he says, tucking it inside his jacket, where a single long pocket is. "nobodys gonna notice" he says soothingly to marcella. "the pocket has an inbuilt null sensor. ill take it and get it stripped of all the frills" its quite obvious that milo is very unwilling to part with this 

(OOC: Since when? I'll rule that there is enough robe to keep the cane hidden under, as long as Milo keeps one arm under the robe holding it to his chest. Since it is essentially modeled after a walking cane, there would be no way of securing it to a belt or hiding it any better then that. But unless I missed something, he is wearing the same robes as everyone else and has nothing special to hide it with)

Even just a few seconds after the man in the red coat fall asleep, questioning voices can be heard outside the alley. Several gunshots had been fired (not all of them silenced) and it was likely that the fighting had begun to draw some attention. It was probably best the group got out of dodge quickly, and maybe even looked for an alternative route of escape...

**************************************************  ************


 "Like I said, he prolly could buy'n'sell this plannet... 'es free to come and go as he will, not like us folk. I've ne'er even been beyond midhive - it just is sumfin interest'n to me." 

" Sure, sure, " Pip says, bobbing his head in tacit agreement.

(OOC: Trying to prompt you to ask some questions so you can get some info out of the scene.)
rax
After finally managing to knock out Serellia, Hound looks up at the rest of the team.  "We do not have time to waste on trying to obfuscate what happened here, and in any case, once they wake up, these people will be able to tell the Enforcers exactly what happened if they wish to do so. We should continue on to Drimmle's abode immediately, but not by leaving this alley the way we came. Let's see where it leads if we continue down it,"  he suggests.
Bennosuke
As previously mentioned, the alley sits between a luxurious looking apartment building of blackened glass and polished plasteel, and an expensive looking grocery store. Lining the alley are a number of vacuum sealed waste bins (clearly for the market), each large enough to store a week's worth of refuse. Further down, it looks like there is a stairwell up to a back door for the market, which is probably locked. There are also black painted iron ladders hanging from the apartment building that lead to a fire escape that climbs up the hotel. Up ahead, the alley turns around the apartment, making it hard to determine if it dead ends or feeds out onto another street.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by rax 
 After finally managing to knock out Serellia, Hound looks up at the rest of the team.  "We do not have time to waste on trying to obfuscate what happened here, and in any case, once they wake up, these people will be able to tell the Enforcers exactly what happened if they wish to do so. We should continue on to Drimmle's abode immediately, but not by leaving this alley the way we came. Let's see where it leads if we continue down it,"  he suggests. 
 

Marcella nods.

 "I agree, lets get going. Though something tells me these guys want to avoid official attention as much as we do"  she said as she picked up into a jog with the others to flee the scene.
bramblefoot
 

milo nods, tucking the shock cane under his arm, and moving along with them
rax
 "Let's find out where the alley leads. If it's a dead end, we take the stairs,"  Hound suggests.
Bennosuke
The acolytes take haste, rushing down the alley. They pass the back entrance to the market and the railing up to the fire escape, just as concerned voices start to take shape at the lip of the alley. The alley does indeed round the towering apartment complex, the pathing becoming a walkway entering onto a ground level pleasure terrace, complete with a clear blue 50 meter lounging pool, a currently unmanned marble cocktail bar, and a spacious grass field for playing Fezy Ball (a racquet ball based four person game favored by only the wealthiest elderly in Hapheastein). Because of the hour, the entire space is nearly empty, except for a pair of barely robed women sunning themselves by the pool. The two are clearly the benefactors of one too many rejuv treatments, their faces both smooth, yet lined with age. They seem to have heard nothing of the gunshots, or are perhaps too privileged to care, and barely pay any attention to the mob of Credit Guilders who come stumbling onto the terrace.

Though security cameras are abound, no one reacts to the acolytes. There appears to be two exits to the yard, though both appear to require some sort of card clearance (based on the black boxes next to the doors). The yard does feed back into the apartment complex; gold leaf-work cherubs adorn the onyx glass doors. And across the yard, it looks like there is a large enclosed multilevel parking garage, likely large enough to house over twenty personal vehicles.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Sure, sure, " Pip says, bobbing his head in tacit agreement.

(OOC: Trying to prompt you to ask some questions so you can get some info out of the scene.) 
 

" When 'is ship comes 'ere, 'lessen he's a tourist, 'es gotta get stuff on an' off 'is ship with cargo shuttles...  Where do they go?  I mean, the toffs are all trying to outdo wunnandder...  who are 'is people?" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Moving through just a taste of the palaces of luxury available to those who dwelled here, Marcella mentally contrasted the paradise with the squalid puddle called 'life' down in the Underhive. The clean, safe streets. The shops full of goods. The adorable bars. Green fields. Swimming pools. A part of her would love to try and raise the money to somehow ingratiate herself into this lifestyle. Maybe flutter her pretty brown eyes towards some young, single noble's son? But she knew she could never fit in. Her mind was a corridor into the Warp, into a realm of horrors and malevolent entities that would drive the normal citizenry mad through sheer exposure. As useful a tool as her mental abilities were now for their investigation, the Scholastia Psykana and the Inquisition would never let her reside here unsupervised.

Besides. She had a duty to use her incredibly rare gift in service of the Emperor and mankind, so that beauty like this could still exist, even if only some could experience it. The Emperor had seen fit to make hers a life of service, and so she would do her best to fulfil it. The millions around her depended on it, even if they didn't know it.

 "Maybe we should cut through the apartment complex,"  Marcella gestured to the others.

 "Drimmle's hab is in Spire Corona, we should be able to cut through the foyer of the apartment complex and onto another street that will take us there." 
Haval
Orla moves briskly but without apparent worry. As if she'd been in a situation like this before. She'll nod to Marcella,  'Trying to steal a car might be a bit risky. At worse there's bound to be a service door or a window in there somewhere. Might set an alarm off but we can't do much about that now. Same deal with the cameras.' 

As they approach the terrace Orla will keep an eye out for any personal bags that might have been left outside. Finding someone's keycard might make things easier, although the rich ladies likely kept their cards too close to be easy to steal.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Awareness vs. Per 39 (Awareness +10)
 (1d100)[ 52 ] 
 
rax
 "Give the clientele who inhabit this tower, it seems highly likely that there will be security or at the very least a doorman in the foyer. We may not draw attention on the streets while dressed as Guilders, but if we enter the tower and just walk right through it, I believe that would register as strange and could lead to us being challenged,"  Hound objected.

 "That garage over there may provide a more circumspect way through. We would be taking a chance, but there is usually more than one entrance and exit in such a structure and our presence should be less noteworthy if there's anyone inside,"  he suggested.
bramblefoot
 
 "knowing the spire, most doormen arent armed, but they can whistle up the arbites real quick"  milo says, keeping his face neutral  "lets try hounds idea" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Listening to the others suggestion to instead use the garage, given it was likely a nexus of motor vehicle roads and coming and going was more incognito, Marcella nodded.

 "Good idea - yes, the garage!"  she agreed.
Haval
 'Whatever works.'  Orla muttered. Anticipating that she might need it, she'll retrieve the thin piece of metal that she uses to pick locks from her pocket.
Bennosuke
 "When 'is ship comes 'ere, 'lessen he's a tourist, 'es gotta get stuff on an' off 'is ship with cargo shuttles... Where do they go? I mean, the toffs are all trying to outdo wunnandder... who are 'is people? 

The man grins, showing his maw of rotted teeth and all the black void behind them. And when he laughs, Arl gets the full force of his breath; all sour alcohol and boiled onions. " Where do they go, " he parrots the question, grinning like he caught the bird in its cage. He leans forward and whispers, " We all know where they go, " and winks a a lizard like wink at Arl. Still leaning forward furtively, " The real question ish, what ish he bringi'in. " He burps in Arl's face. " I've sheen the ship logsh, " Pip says, his grin widening expectantly at Arl's interest. With very little prompting he closes, " I know that the Rogue Trader'sh been goin' where he shouldn' be goin'... He'sh been goin' out to the Purgatory Ring, and that'sh no mansh land. The real queshtion, is what in Terra he'sh bringin' back. That'sh what I ashk myshelf. "

**************************************************  ********

While Orla scans the area, she finds nothing of particular interest or concern.

After a hurried discussion, the Acolytes choose the garage. Moving swiftly across the yard, they can hear voices coming back from the alley, though distant. Hopefully, whomever followed them was taking their time with the downed security team, though who knew how much time the group had. To everyone's relief, the women sunning themselves continue to pay no mind to the group. In fact, drawing closer to the pool as they cross the terrace, the acolytes can hear faint snores coming from one of the women. Still, likely best not to linger.

The garage is a large single story ferrocrete structure in the functional shape of a three dimensional rectangle. As previously noticed the main access point was an electronically locked door with a card scanner. The most straight forward access was probably trying to crack the electric lock. However, down the way from the access point was a single plexiglass window at about head height. Perhaps someone could get past the glass and climb through the window... Though there were probably other creative ways of gaining access to the garage.
Haval
 'How are you lot with tech anyway? I might have to fiddle with the wires but I'll get it open eventually.'  Orla will gesture towards the windows.  'Unless one of you can break the glass quietly.'  Who knew what Marcella was capable of.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Pausing here for others input before Orla rolls secruity
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "I can shut all the electronics off,"  Marc offered slowly with a shrug,  "but unless it's a magnetic lock instead of a mechanical latch, then that'll just turn off our only means to open the door, won't it?" 

Thinking for half a second,  "maybe it's best you open it." 
bramblefoot
 

milo shrugs  "i know the basics of tek-obeisance, but not how to pop a card-lock.   he looks around, eyeballing for any ways up
Haval
 'Ok then. Maybe stand behind me so it doesn't look to obvious.'  Orla will get to work.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Security vs. Ag 44
 (1d100)[ 51 ] 
Fate point if needed
 (1d100)[ 52 ] 
 
rax
 "If Orla is unsuccessful, you should try your mind trick on it. It is an electrical device, so turning it off should enable us to push the door open while the locking mechanism is shut down. If I am wrong, we will be in no worse a position than we are now,"  Hound suggests.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc's eyes shifted upwards to look at Hound as he started to speak, and then nodded in acknowledgement of his suggestion.

Stepping back, Marc gave Orla the room she needed, ready to help out if needed.
Bennosuke
After a bit of unscrewing, Orla pulls open the casing to the card scanner and begins fiddling with the wires. Seconds go by, and nothing happens. More seconds go by, and it is starting to feel like minutes, but still the door won't open. Voices from the alley seem to be drawing closer. Finally, Marcella offers to try doing things  her way , and the others step back.

(OOC: Orla is down to 1/2 FP now)

The psyker grits her teeth as she reaches out to the machine spirit within the security system. Despite her target, the lights on the patio all go out, even as the door to the garage slides open with a groan. Fortunately it is still day, the twin suns beating hot and bright overhead, making the electrical "malfunction" harder to notice.

The acolytes hurry inside, the last member almost getting the back of their robed snagged as the door seals itself shut with another groan. Just as the door closes, the lights in the garage turn back on. There are a handful of vehicles, all passenger class four wheelers, mostly luxury models that most would be unable to afford.

Assuming, the acolytes are looking to drive out of the garage, I won't make them roll to find an unlocked vehicle. Living in the lap of luxury, and storing their vehicle in a secure garage, one of the spire dwellers is likely to have left their car unlocked. However, while a roll isn't necessary at this time, someone will need the drive (ground vehicle) skill to safely control the vehicle.
Haval
If they were stealing a car Orla will look around for the least colourful option out of habit. Ideally, if anyone saw the car leave the garage, it should be as hard to identify as possible.  'You know, I know a guy if we're taking one of these with us and we want to get rid of it after. He'll probably give me a good price for it as well.'  If no one seemed that enthusiatic,  'Or we find somewhere out of the way to dump it.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Orla has Drive Ground Vehicle because she's obviously done this before at some point 🙂

Will take direction here
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc exhaled as she felt her psyche touch into the pool of the Warp again, the ensuing tentacle surging around the electronic lock and scrambled its circuitry, relaxing its grip upon the door before the group hurried through. Swallowing,  feeling  the lights going out, and perhaps other electronics, for even the short time the ripple through the warp was active, the Psyker exhaled and looked about her as the scent of asphalt, tyre rubber and oil hit her in the nostrils.


  'You know, I know a guy if we're taking one of these with us and we want to get rid of it after. He'll probably give me a good price for it as well.'  If no one seemed that enthusiatic,  'Or we find somewhere out of the way to dump it.'  

Marc wasn't sure if they should steal a car. Maybe they could just walk? That was their original plan and they couldn't have detoured  that  far away from the street they had been on previously. But maybe a car would be quicker, and they could always ditch it a block away from Corona Spire and leg it the rest of the way. And while they were inside the vehicle, they were off the streets and away from prying eyes - which they knew there'd still be two of, at least, on the streets.

Unsure of which idea to support, the Psyker felt it best to listen to Arl's advice on the matter, her eyes moving from Orla as he spoke, then swiveling over to look at the assassin for his thoughts.
rax
 "Commandeering a vehicle would be a logical course of action if there were hostiles in close pursuit and our main aim was to escape as quickly as possible. In my estimation, this situation does not appear to call for such measures. Our current goal is to continue onwards towards Sir Drimmle's abode without drawing further attention. Availing ourselves of one of these vehicles is not conducive to maintaining a low profile,"  Hound ventures his opinion.
Haval
 'You're probably right.'  Orla conceded.  'Assuming there's another way out of here.'  Orla will go looking for another way out, and will keep an eye out for any staff that might be in the area.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc turned her head to listen to Hound, a small smile crossing her face as she nodded in agreement.
Wyndeward
Arl nodded.  The simpler the plan, the less likely it was to go off the rails.
bramblefoot
 

milo looks around, and considers  "lets go with group consensus"  he says, and will follow
Bennosuke
The group proceed across the garage towards the exit door. To their relief, a motion sensor near the wall triggers the brass plated doors to slide apart. Now several blocks away from where they made their escape, the acolytes are able to move a little more freely, but would be wise to look out for further surveillance. What is their next move?
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc remained quiet and amidst the taller members of the group as they all departed the garage, leaving behind the scent of asphalt and oil to emerge into the open streets of the upper hive. Artificial, clean air pushed against her face as the psyker inhaled a lungful, blinking and looking about to make sure they weren't followed.

 "That's four down,"  she said quietly,  "two more on the street patrol and six with Drimmle. If they're not on maximum alert now, they will be by the time we get there. Drimmle's hab is at the Corona Spire and is a short walk from here. Maybe approach off the main streets? 
Haval
 'No argument here. And maybe it'll make it harder for someone to follow us from all this.' 
Bennosuke
The group start their walk through the streets of the upper hive, back towards Drimmle's manse. Compared to the congested, litter filled walkways of the midhive, things are open and quiet and clean this high up. The acolytes wisely chose to therefore follow side streets and alleys, winding their way closer and closer to Ser Drimmle's compound. Soon enough the group are a few blocks away from the property, near enough to see the house climbing above the other nearby buildings. His manse is built of white marble in a classic Terran style, all sculpted columns and cream brick, papered with a climbing ivy with leaves that range from a burned orange to a bright yellow, to a fiery red.

The group have blue prints of the entire compound and have previously broken in through a side door which the acolytes have a passcode for (assuming it was still active). However, something gives Marcella pause as they look out over the rooftops at the mansion. Studding various balconies and window sills are a number of new security cameras, which were not there previously. Drimmle had clearly beefed up his "defenses" since the acolytes had last broken into his home and trashed the place.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the hav, it's gorgeous marble columns and the craftsmanship of its graceful, yet strong edifice. She wondered for a moment how many thrones it would take to own a place like that, let alone maintaini and sustain it.

While the group decided how to approach and penetrate the new security, including the cameras she pointed out, the psyker tilted her head a little to whisper to Orla   "he's not married. Would you shack up with him to live there as Dame Orla?"   she smirked.

 "Do we want to try to appeal to his better judgement and just knock on the front door to let us in and resolve the issue? Or try to sneak in again like last time? He's doubtless reinforced that secret door and changed the codes."  she asked the others.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 

Marc took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the hav, it's gorgeous marble columns and the craftsmanship of its graceful, yet strong edifice. She wondered for a moment how many thrones it would take to own a place like that, let alone maintaini and sustain it.

While the group decided how to approach and penetrate the new security, including the cameras she pointed out, the psyker tilted her head a little to whisper to Orla   "he's not married. Would you shack up with him to live there as Dame Orla?"   she smirked.

 "Do we want to try to appeal to his better judgement and just knock on the front door to let us in and resolve the issue? Or try to sneak in again like last time? He's doubtless reinforced that secret door and changed the codes."  she asked the others. 
 

Arl mulls the question for a moment, then smiles.

" Let us try the secret passage first -- this is    supposed    to be covert, after all... " shooting a glance at the cleric.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 While the group decided how to approach and penetrate the new security, including the cameras she pointed out, the psyker tilted her head a little to whisper to Orla   "he's not married. Would you shack up with him to live there as Dame Orla?"   she smirked. 
 

  'Maybe for the ID. Or if he's pretty'   Orla replied. Orla agrees with Arl,  'If you were him would you let you lot in willingly?' 
bramblefoot
 
 "lets try the back door"  milo says.  "push comes to shove, maybe i can fry the lock with this thing i acquired" 
Bennosuke
The group moves furtively through the alleys to the side of the property, where a secret door is hidden by a patch of climbing ivy. But when the group try the passcode again, a red light flashes across the top of the keypad and their access is immediately denied.

(OOC: So Marcella could try her trick again, though it could also backfire. I will roll for it this time. Otherwise, could try a security test, or could try another means of entry)

 
 Spoiler: OOC Wynde 
Don't forget the other scene, where I am waiting for you to reply.
 
Haval
Orla will go take a look at the lock.  'Is this the sort of lock where an alarm going to go off if I break it open.'  Unless someone decides to stop her she'll look into getting the door open.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Scrutiny test on the lock
vs. Per 39 / 2
 (1d100)[ 29 ] 

Security test unless she notices a reason not to fiddle with the lock
vs. Ag 44
 (1d100)[ 82 ] 
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
   'Maybe for the ID. Or if he's pretty'   Orla replied. Orla agrees with Arl,  'If you were him would you let you lot in willingly?'  
 

The Psyker stiffled a snicker as she looked at Orla with an amused smile and shook her head, as if to say  'No, he's not, he's below mid.' .

Marcella then moved with the rest of the group as they snuck in the back way, seemingly avoiding the main vigilance of the cameras. Last time the Psyker had been one to rap upon the front door, and so this was a new experience for her - she'd never seen the secret tunnel before! It was rather exciting.

Wearing a bright smile on her face as the group shuffled through the more narrow corridor of the hidden entrance, she came to a halt and waited as Orla and Milo got to work on the door, fiddling with its systems and entering codes. When the initial attempt at gaining entrance was greeted with the flash of a red light, the Psyker pursed her lips. Seemingly zoning out and staring off into space, she mentally inhaled before pushing her psyche outwards in all directions, like an expanding spiders web that threaded itself through the warp and across the local immaterium, feeling for the mental presence of any one else who might be nearby, and where they were. Specifically, Drimmle and any other occupants of his abode...
rax
 "We should expect Drimmle to have posted some extra security at this entrance,"  Hound notes dispassionately.  "Those best equipped for a gunfight - preferably with silenced weapons - should lead the way inside once the door is open." 
Haval
Orla will shrug at that and draw her knife. The gun would be for emergencies.
Bennosuke
Neither Orla, nor Father Milo can tell much about the security system and what would happen if tampered with. Regardless, pretty quickly into inspecting the circuitry of the access pad, Orla realizes she is outmatched.
bramblefoot
 

milo will look at the lock, and pull the shock cane out.  "want me to try to fry it, or should we let our witch deal with it"  he asks
rax
 "Brute force is more likely to set off an alarm or cause the system to lock down. Let Acolyte Marcella try her mind tricks first,"  Hound says.
Haval
In case it was needed Orla will take a moment to see if there was an easy route to climb up to one of Drimmle's balconies. If the only way to get up there was to climb in full view of the cameras, there was probably little point in making the attempt.
Bennosuke
Marcella reaches out with her mind, extending her awareness of intelligent life around her. Given the breadth of her growing powers, the psyker's awareness spreads far and wide. Though not as heavily populated as the midhive, here in the spire, there are hundreds if not close to a thousand minds in a kilometer's reach of Marcella. The sea of consciousnesses all going about their days, filled with petty thoughts, personal vendetta's, goals and aspirations threatens to swallow the psyker's own sense of self. Given that the spire is literally a vertical city, Marcella is aware of minds above and below her, and stretching out in all directions before her. Focusing in on the local area reduces the overwhelming rushing whirlwind of thoughts, and Marcella can tell that there are at least three or four individuals within Drimmle's compound, and with additional focus can find Ser Drimmle's consciousness within his own manse.

Orla sees that the vines climb up and down the stone walls of the gate that surround Drimmle's home. These could likely be climbed, but the wall is high enough that at some point the climber would be visible to those on the street or in neighboring buildings. As it was there were security cameras all over, though of course it would be possible to find a spot to climb within their blind spot.
Haval
To the others, but really mostly to Arl who looked like he might be capable of it,  'If we can't get the door open, how is everyone at climbing anyway? If you can avoid the cameras I bet it'd be a lot easier to get in up there.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc seemed zoned out as her mind roamed the constellations of human psyches, each dot of light a person and a summary of decades of living and experience. Out of the thousands her mental fingertips ran over, it was one in particular that she was interested in, one that was huddled among the 3 to 4 within the vicinity of Drimmles compound...the man himself.

  'Ser Drimmle...'   Marcs gentle, soft voice would emanate into the mans mind as she telepathically communicated with him - a presence within his skull audible to him and him alone.

 ' Ser Drimmle...you disappoint us...open the security door and let us in...cooperate...the Inquisition knows your name...the Inquisition knows your crimes...you only delay the inevitable...there is nowhere in this solar system where you can hide from us...no security that we cannot penetrate...there is no salvation from us...there is only salvation  through  us...'  
 "He's on the first floor, with only two to three guards with him now...but there could be servitors..."  Marcella announced to the group, her eyes glazed over as she stared forward, her voice monotonous.
bramblefoot
 

milo grins ferally.  "i hope there is no objection to softening up drimmle with a few shocks"  he says.  "personally, i feel it's been too long since hes felt a good touch of pain"  he cracks a rictus  "blessed are those with the gift of aggression, for they have the strength to be the sword of the emperor, the spear of the formation, and a bulwark against darkness" 

the shock cane
 
Bennosuke
There is a sudden sound of static that comes from keypad, and then Drimmle's voice, is peevish displeasure clear a day. He says, " Why don't you come to my front gate and knock like civilized people. " This is followed by a second, more insistent, " And GET OUT of my head! " The static cuts.
bramblefoot
 

milo sighs  "**** with us, **** with the emperor"  he says.  "why dont you just let us in, and we wont make a mess of your furniture."  he spreads his arms like a demagogue  "how would you like to be known as a traitor to the imperium, and consulting with bad people to boot?" 

his eyes narrow at the keypad  "come quietly, or i swear on my jacket i will not make it pretty for you. you wanna come out, or do we have to drag you kicking, screaming, and bloodied to somewhere cold and dark?" 
 "also, who said we were civilized? you could have any number of traps and such. just let us in, and this will be over" 
Bennosuke
Either because there is no microphone to the key pad, or because Drimmle is ignoring him, there is no reply.
Haval
To Marcella,  'If time isn't an issue you could always annoy him into opening the door. How do you reckon he'd feel about never sleeping again?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 To Marcella,  'If time isn't an issue you could always annoy him into opening the door. How do you reckon he'd feel about never sleeping again?'  
 

Marcella smirks like a naughty child anticipating mischief, bringing her hand to her mouth and giggling into it.

 "Give him a personal rendition of my singing throughout the night?"  she giggled mischievously, before shaking her head and waving her right hand in a  'no Im kidding, I wouldn't'  gesture.

 "Hey, he can't hear you..."  her soft voice almosr giggled as she caught Milo's attention.

 "Let's just go through the front: he's got two to three staff with him now. We should be able to handle it if he's planning something." 

She paused  "or Orla and I can go up through the second floor balcony, while you guys go through the front?" 
bramblefoot
 

milo shrugs  "i say we stick together"  he says coldly, grey eyes staring at the keypad.  "once he lets us in, be prepared for anything. i want to give this noble slimeball a taste of his own medicine"  then his eyes wander back to the keypad  "can you jinx it open"  he asks marcella.  "if drimmle wants us to come around front, then hes got something planned. best to come in storm and fury" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker pursed her lips and shook her head gently.

 "It's imprecise. It'll shut down everything in about fifty meters. That's several entire floors in this hab that'll go dark..." 
bramblefoot
 

milo sighs  "alright, front door it is. stay frosty, and be prepared for it to go ploin-shaped"  he cracks a grin at marcella.  "isnt that what you voidies drink? ive heard its an acquired taste"  he turns to hound  "i suggest we go in teams of two. front door, stay sharp, and dont get cocky" 
rax
 "While I agree that we will need to be ready for an ambush, there is little point in playing at Arbites when he's invited us to come through the front door. We know from last time that he has pict recorders there that will show him everything we're doing. You are welcome to "take point" and ring the doorbell, but please do not begin shooting anyone until we are safely inside and have taken stock of the situation,"  Hound answers Milo.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc's eyes shifted between Milo, Hound, Orla and Arl. Once the decision seemed made to go through the front, the girl straightened her shoulders up and got ready to move out to the front entrance.
Haval
Orla will ease her gun into the sleeve of her robe where she could hide it from any passersby on the street. To Marcella,  'If he decides to nip out the back I'd say you have to do that singing thing to him.'  She fully intends to go in behind Milo and Arl.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


The Psyker nodded, her large eyes focused on Orla.

 "In a manner of speaking, I think I can. We're not here to fill body bags, so as Hound says, let's show some restraint and don't shoot unless shot at first. It bears repeating: I don't think Drimmle wants Arbite attention any more than we do." 
bramblefoot
 

milo cracks another rictus  "nobody wants arbites attention. those guys are goddamn bloodhounds, and they just love to go sniffing around"  he will tuck the shock cane back away and move to the front
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc shook her head slightly,  "no no, that means he doesn't want to draw attention...i.e, he doesn't want his Lord Above finding out!" 
Bennosuke
Decided, the group move round the perimeter of Ser Drimmle's home. Ivy colored stone walls give way to a pair of bronze swinging gates with vertical bars. Through the bars is a beautifully manicured rose garden parted by a driveway where a luxury sports car and a less luxurious unmarked van are parked. Past the cars is Drimmle's manse, the front porch lined with ionic columns carved of ivory. The yard is studded with security cameras which all seem to swivel towards the gate entrance when the group arrive. Though the gates are swung shut, the moment the acolytes arrive, the swing inwards noiselessly, allowing them entrance.

If the acolytes proceed into the property, the gates will close behind them, again moving noiselessly on their hinges.
Haval
Orla looks impressed at the sight of the garden.  'Alright for some isn't it.'  She'll keep a look out for any signs of life but will otherwise follow the others lead.
Wyndeward
Arl brooded -- going in through the front door was hardly covert, but, then, he wasn't likely to get shot, either.

He rested his hand on the butt of his stub automatic, which he kept concealed with his Credit Guild cloak.
bramblefoot
 

milo will slip a small blum fruit in the exhaust of the white van, hopefully causing it to backfire should it try to go anywhere in a hurry.  "take the sports car if there is a need for a fast exit"  he whispers in orlas ear, and enter.  "remember, trust nothing."  he subvocalizes through the microbead
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

On the way in, Marcella eyed the van suspiciously. She hadn't  detected  anyone in there...and there were other logical explanations. It could be one of two incognito vehicles that had ferried the 12 Star Guard team here, with the other now out in the streets as a mobile HQ for the watchers, while the other one remained here. Was anyone in it now? She hadn't sensed anyone, and it made more sense for the security team to utilise Drimmle's own suite of security camera's and control over the barriers that permitted or denied access to the grounds, so it was doubtful. Still, the paranoid part in the back of Marcella's mind didn't like it.

What she did like, however, was the garden. The sight of the veritable rainbow carpet of flowers that blossomed across their neatly arrayed rectangles and circles admidsts little sea's of well-manicured green grass that were flanked by rows of beautiful tree's and their gentle, rustling leaves. Having grown up on a satelitte in orbit, it was one of the most beautiful things that she had ever seen, let alone being able to move through, as the Psyker moved her right, thinly-gloved hand and gently brushed it through a bank of soft flowers and smiled at the sensation across her skin and the seductive, odiferous melenge of petals, pistils and pollen. Peaceful. An Eden under the hand of man. The Psyker pictured herself being able to have a chair amidst this paradise where she could read her books for hours among the flora, her head rubbernecking about the garden as she tried to determine where it would be best to sit within tranquility.

 "It's so beautiful, isn't it?"  she spoke quietly to Orla, partly in response to what she had said.

 "I'm just glad it exists somewhere. I grew up on a Satellite, I've never seen greenery like this...do you think Drimmle might let me take a bud to plant back at the Cathedral?"  she asked, and it was hard to tell if she was being serious or joking, her tone almost hopeful.

Such was Marcella's transfixation that she was staring at the garden over her shoulder even as they entered the bay area of the large doors, before turning her attention back to the task at hand.

 "Is that what your world is like?"  she asked Arl, though didn't expect him to answer immediately, given the circumstances.
bramblefoot
 

milo will eyeball the van, and then the gate  "i suggest we see if we can jam the gate mechanism, so should anyone attempt a speedy escape, they will be foiled"  he says quietly
rax
 "It's an indulgence,"  Hound replied to Marcella's comment about the garden.  "For some it might provide tranquility to meditate on the Emperor's sacrifice and their duty to humanity. For Drimmle, I do not believe it is aught but a bauble to proclaim his status." 

Taking the lead, Hound walks through the gates and heads for the front door.  "Keep an eye on the van. There may be ambushers within,"  he instructs Arl.
Bennosuke
Nothing happens as Hound takes the lead, though the various security cameras swivel on automatic mechandrites to follow the man, as he makes his way to the front door. Anyone who inspects any of the vehicles will find them locked and empty.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "There's cameras everywhere, watching us,"  Marc replied to Milo.

She considered what Hound said, about how for Drimmle this stunning display of flora might just be a symbol of vanity rather than serving a practical use. It was likely true, she realised, looking a little glum for half a second, hoping that that wasn't the case. It'd be quite sad for such a display to serve only as a status symbol.

Moving up to the door with the others, if no on else does so Marcella will reach out and activate the door bell or comms system.
Bennosuke
Marcella takes hold of a bronze ring knocker, held forth from the mouth of a leering skull, and bangs against the door several times (this same knocker, Marcella and Milo had used the last time they visited). Almost immediately there is the electric hum of electronics and the tick-clicking of clockwork machinery, as the skull's left eye lights up green with the lens of a camera. From a speaker located in the skull's right eye, a robotic voice says, "That's better. Enter."

Suddenly the double doors at Drimmle's entrance open inward with a mechanical hiss. The entryway itself (again, familiar to Marcella and Milo) is palatial, large enough to house a fountain the size of a small ground vehicle. Rich blue wallpaper depicting a cloudless sky filled with a magnificent sun line the towering walls, though much of the wallpaper is hidden behind luxurious portraits. The acolytes had previously damaged much of the entry way to hide their prior assault, but all this damage has been fixed and replaced.

Reaching up from either side of the entry are two sweeping staircases carpeted in red. Standing at the foot of the righthand stairwell is Ser Drimmle, and at the left is a humongous man armed with a heavy stubber, aimed directly at the entrance and the acolytes. " Enter, enter, quickly! " Ser Pennifry Drimmle commands. He stands leering at the acolytes, his pencil thin mustache twisting upwards cartoonishly. He was gaunt before, but despite his luxurious yellow robes, Drimmle looks absolutely frail now. Heavy bags hang under his blue eyes, the whites practically filled with red. A heavy gold chain hangs heavily around his shoulders, weighted down by a massive metal plate inlayed with circuitry and holy sigils and seals. Marcella will recognize this from her times on the Black Ship, almost immediately, as a Hexagrammic Ward. An ornate las pistol rests in his right hand, pointed directly at Marcella. " Hands up, hands up, no funny business or every one of you will be filled with lead, " Ser Drimmle shrieks, twisted glee spread across his face, " and don't you even think about trying anything Wytch! One false move and I press this. " With his left hand, he raises a small rectangular device, that looks like the trigger to some remote bomb.
bramblefoot
 

milo sighs and cracks his neck  "come get my weapon you big galoot"  he says to stubber boy. to the remainder of the party minus orla, he subvocalizes  "be prepared to move on my mark." 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 
assuming he does, im going to light the guys face on fire with the wrist flamer, and then dive left
 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
   "It's so beautiful, isn't it?"  she spoke quietly to Orla, partly in response to what she had said.

 "I'm just glad it exists somewhere. I grew up on a Satellite, I've never seen greenery like this...do you think Drimmle might let me take a bud to plant back at the Cathedral?"  she asked, and it was hard to tell if she was being serious or joking, her tone almost hopeful.  
 

 'He's got enough of them. If you take one I don't think he'll even notice.' 
 Inside 

Orla will cautiously put her hands up while still holding her gun. To Drimmle,  'You look tired mate. You might want to see a Doctor at some point. That thing looks like a pain in the neck.'  She'll naturally focus on the large man with the stubber just in case he decided to start shooting.  'Hope you have some more boys in the house. If you shoot us here the people we sent in through the balcony might be upset with you.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Deceive vs. Fel 41 (Deceive +10)
 (1d100)[ 23 ] 
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

If Marcella was frightened in the situation, she wasn't showing it. A benefit to her willpower was hiding her emotions when she wanted to, as she looked above towards the ceiling - and the apparent explosives lining the inside - with an impassive face, before drawing her eyes back up to Drimmle. The truth was the butterflies were in her guts, ricocheting off the walls of her trim waist like ballbearings - but she knew how important it was to project confidence.

The ornate laspistol. The big guy with the heavy stubber. The detonator. The...Hexogrammic ward! It took all the willpower she had not to smile as if she had seen an old friend. The wards were formidable obstacles, but the Psyker knew they weren't perfect. She wasn't a little 10 year old girl on the Black Ships anymore, someone untrained and unpolished for whom such a deterrent would be assured compliance. This time, she believed, if she needed to, she could overcome.

 "So, does Lord Durchiss know that you spoke to us last time?"  she asked, her voice a bit quieter, more serious,  "because I venture to guess he wouldn't be too happy knowing that you're the weak link in his operation. The Inquisitor was disappointed to learn that Durchiss was involved but, the wheels are in motion. Still, you know how the Lords operate, he'll need a scapegoat, someone to throw to the wolves..."  she looked at Drimmle, the implication clear that it would be him.



 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 milo sighs and cracks his neck  "come get my weapon you big galoot"  he says to stubber boy. to the remainder of the party minus orla, he subvocalizes  "be prepared to move on my mark."  
 

Marcella's own voice would slide into the back of Milos head, speaking to him telepathically:

  'Don't...he has the advantage right now...you'll get us all killed...be patient...'  
rax
Hound looks at Drimmle and the big man, shaking his head in annoyance.

 "This is disappointing, Sir Drimmle. Expected, but disappointing. You know who we work for. Do you imagine that threatening us or even killing us will in any way change your fate? Our superiors know where we are and what we're doing. If we do not return, they will simply send someone else, and they will not be as accommodating as we have been,"  Hound states calmly.

 "As for you, you are an operative of the Star Guard Force, yes?"  he says to the big man.  "I presume that Sir Drimmle has fully briefed you on who we are, but do you fully understand the consequences of raising arms against us? If we are harmed in any way, the Star Guard Force will cease to exist, condemned by your hand for heresy. You will be judged a traitor to the God Emperor and dealt with appropriately. Any family you have will be put to the wrack or - if our superiors are feeling merciful - sent to the Penal Legions." 
 "So, gentlemen, put away your weapons and cease this tiresome charade. We are not here to fight, but it is time for you to honour your vow of service, Sir Drimmle,"  Hound addresses both men.

 
 Spoiler: Skill tests 
I'd like to try a Scrutiny test to see if Hound can get a hint as to whether Drimmle is telling the truth about there being explosives.

 (1d100)[ 24 ]  vs. Per 40 (or 50 if Heightened Senses could be applicable)

While he speaks, Hound will also try to scan the area for any visible signs of explosives.

 (1d100)[ 59 ]  vs. 70 (Per 40, Awareness +20, Heightened Senses +10)
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Having spoken her piece, Marcella remained quiet as others put forward their efforts. Orla seemed convincing in her assertion that they had back up entering the building from an unguarded location - hopefully a successful ruse! While Hound pointed out the logical inevitability of Drimmles situation, and the pointlessness in taking further action against them. Marc wasn't particularly socially gifted, being born on a satellite, traumatised before the Emperor and then developing into adulthood within the cloistered environment of the Scholastica Psykana...but she wasn't a stupid girl. She silently watched the points drawn up and spun by Orla and Hound, mentally taking note of the strategic avenues they were both employing with the intent to contrast it to Drimmles response in order to gauge how effective each had been. Marcella knew she had much to learn in this area, and so she counted herself lucky in having the forum within which to receive lessons from that greatest of teachers: experience.
Bennosuke
 milo sighs and cracks his neck "come get my weapon you big galoot" he says to stubber boy. to the remainder of the party minus orla, he subvocalizes "be prepared to move on my mark." 

Still glaring with crazed hatred at the group, Ser Drimmle cries, " Go ahead Shriek! " which causes the massive man holding the heavy stubber to chuckle. He is an ugly thing, too big and too round to be any normal human, his head shaved and round, resembling his protuberent belly which distends the denim of his coverals and flak jacket. But over the man's shoulder crawls something even stranger, a tiny horror of a woman. Though her face is normal size, by distance she is maybe three feet tall, and crawling on the gunman like a spider. Her hair is thin and fire red, her eyes wild round orbs, her grin perhaps half mad. Shriek climbs over the gunman, and reaches the ground with her hands. In matching coveralls, she performs a back flip onto her feet, spinning in the air to land facing the group. Still with the crazed grin on her face, she approaches the group, hands reaching upward.

Drimmle calls out, " Shriek will relieve you of your weapons. Drop anything in your hands and raise them above your head. "

(OOC: I will not presume what every player will do, so if you have any desire to resist, let me know how, and be prepared to roll)


 Orla will cautiously put her hands up while still holding her gun. To Drimmle, 'You look tired mate. You might want to see a Doctor at some point. That thing looks like a pain in the neck.' She'll naturally focus on the large man with the stubber just in case he decided to start shooting. 'Hope you have some more boys in the house. If you shoot us here the people we sent in through the balcony might be upset with you.' 

The man's face sours at this. " Who are you, " he hisses, " you weren't with the others last time. " He shakes his head, his mad grin replaced with anger and disgust. He says, " I have no desire to hurt you all, not as long as you don't do anything stupid. " He eyes Milo at this, his face turning pale. " This is just a security measure. The last time you were here you beat and robbed and psychically manipulated me... I... I haven't slept soundly in weeks. I have nightmares of your lot creeping into my home! " His voice is half crazed, and spittle collects at the corners of his lips as he speaks. " I held up my end of the bargain as promised! This is just all security to protect me and mine! "


 The ornate laspistol. The big guy with the heavy stubber. The detonator. The...Hexogrammic ward! It took all the willpower she had not to smile as if she had seen an old friend. The wards were formidable obstacles, but the Psyker knew they weren't perfect. She wasn't a little 10 year old girl on the Black Ships anymore, someone untrained and unpolished for whom such a deterrent would be assured compliance. This time, she believed, if she needed to, she could overcome.

"So, does Lord Durchiss know that you spoke to us last time?" she asked, her voice a bit quieter, more serious, "because I venture to guess he wouldn't be too happy knowing that you're the weak link in his operation. The Inquisitor was disappointed to learn that Durchiss was involved but, the wheels are in motion. Still, you know how the Lords operate, he'll need a scapegoat, someone to throw to the wolves..." she looked at Drimmle, the implication clear that it would be him. 


 "This is disappointing, Sir Drimmle. Expected, but disappointing. You know who we work for. Do you imagine that threatening us or even killing us will in any way change your fate? Our superiors know where we are and what we're doing. If we do not return, they will simply send someone else, and they will not be as accommodating as we have been," Hound states calmly. 

Ser Drimmle turns his attention to Marcella and then to Hound, and one of his eyes goes mad with an uncontrollable spasm. " I kept my end of the bargain, just like we discussed, " Drimmle repeats himself, " I told no one. And I have what you came for. But there is going to be a new bargain, you see? I give you what you came for today, and you and your friends, and your Inquisition, you all leave me and NEVER come back! That is the deal. Take it or leave it. "


 "As for you, you are an operative of the Star Guard Force, yes?" he says to the big man. "I presume that Sir Drimmle has fully briefed you on who we are, but do you fully understand the consequences of raising arms against us? If we are harmed in any way, the Star Guard Force will cease to exist, condemned by your hand for heresy. You will be judged a traitor to the God Emperor and dealt with appropriately. Any family you have will be put to the wrack or - if our superiors are feeling merciful - sent to the Penal Legions."

"So, gentlemen, put away your weapons and cease this tiresome charade. We are not here to fight, but it is time for you to honour your vow of service, Sir Drimmle," Hound addresses both men. 

The big man simply chuckles again, as if the threat were simply an entertaining joke. The small woman Shriek seems not to even notice Hound speaking.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Hound succeeded in both rolls, which were made because my last post was not complete. I suspect the new information I gave you might lead to wanting to make other rolls, and will allow you to reuse your successes if appropriate. The same goes for Milo's prior BS roll.
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Yeah, Drimmle was nuts.

Once again, Marc's willpower steeled her features. She was the youngest member of the group, by half a decade at least, her youthful and friendly features marking her out as rather out of place, given the nature of the situation. But yet they remained seemingly impassive as the madman before them cackled and splurted maniacally, while the clear mutant and his... partner  snickered and drew her hands forward to receive the groups weapons.

Durchiss had exposed him to the weapons. That was Marcella's working hypothesis right now. He'd lost sleep since their last encounter? Sure, possibly. But Marc had lost plenty of weeks of sleep in the past...it hadn't driven her to  this . Either he was willingly in cahoots with Durchiss' true purpose, or he had been exposed to the true nature of the weapon crates. Either way, his fate was sealed. Consorting with mutants was just an extra layer of confirmation.

 "Sure, Ser Drimmle..."  Marcella answered slowly, her soft, friendly voice a contrast to his mad cackling, her eyes moving over towards Hound for a second to gauge his response before returning to Drimmle.

 "...we're waiting for what you promised to give us, let it roll." 


Those butterflies in Marcella's tummy that had been richoceting around...now they were slamming around at near warp-speed. They were standing underneath an explosive warhead whose trigger mechanism was in the hand of a visible lunatic. Had he 'kept his side of the bargain'? Maybe. But he was physically deranged beyond measure, his words and mentality suiting his deteriorated image, so who could trust what he had to say?

  'Hold one finger by your side if you want me to try and dominate him...two if you want me to try and kill them all...three if you want me to standby...'    Marcella's friendly, but clearly anxious voice moved into the back of  Hounds  head.
Haval
To Drimmle,  'Oh, I'm just here for the money.'  Orla replies blandly. She will blanch a little at the sight of Shriek, but she had met mutants in the Underhive before.  'Which is why I'm going to try not to shoot at anyone who doesn't shoot at me first.'  She will give up her gun only if someone else goes first or if Drimmle decides to threaten her over it.  'What's this about a deal?'  Better to pretend she was only vaguely connected to the rest of the group, especially if she had to give up her gun.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man grins, showing his maw of rotted teeth and all the black void behind them. And when he laughs, Arl gets the full force of his breath; all sour alcohol and boiled onions. " Where do they go, " he parrots the question, grinning like he caught the bird in its cage. He leans forward and whispers, " We all know where they go, " and winks a a lizard like wink at Arl. Still leaning forward furtively, " The real question ish, what ish he bringi'in. " He burps in Arl's face. " I've sheen the ship logsh, " Pip says, his grin widening expectantly at Arl's interest. With very little prompting he closes, " I know that the Rogue Trader'sh been goin' where he shouldn' be goin'... He'sh been goin' out to the Purgatory Ring, and that'sh no mansh land. The real queshtion, is what in Terra he'sh bringin' back. That'sh what I ashk myshelf. " 
 

" Whas the Purgatory Ring?  Whys it no mansh land? "

Despite the slack-jawed look on Arl's face, his mind was racing, frantically trying to figure out how to pull out as much information as possible from Pip.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
  

milo sighs and cracks his neck  "come get my weapon you big galoot"  he says to stubber boy. to the remainder of the party minus orla, he subvocalizes  "be prepared to move on my mark." 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 
assuming he does, im going to light the guys face on fire with the wrist flamer, and then dive left
 
 
 

Arl's face is almost placidly calm.

" Milo, I haven't finished healing from the *LAST* shootout you got me into in this Emperor benighted house.  Besides, goading high-value witnesses into blowing themselves up is detrimental to a long life. " he subvocalized.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ser Drimmle turns his attention to Marcella and then to Hound, and one of his eyes goes mad with an uncontrollable spasm. " I kept my end of the bargain, just like we discussed, " Drimmle repeats himself, " I told no one. And I have what you came for. But there is going to be a new bargain, you see? I give you what you came for today, and you and your friends, and your Inquisition, you all leave me and NEVER come back! That is the deal. Take it or leave it. "



The big man simply chuckles again, as if the threat were simply an entertaining joke. The small woman Shriek seems not to even notice Hound speaking.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Hound succeeded in both rolls, which were made because my last post was not complete. I suspect the new information I gave you might lead to wanting to make other rolls, and will allow you to reuse your successes if appropriate. The same goes for Milo's prior BS roll.
 
 
 

Arl calmly and slowly flipped the right-side hem of his cloak back with his left hand, exposing one of his stub automatics.  Still using his left hand, he calmly and slowly reached down and removed it from his holster with two fingers holding the pistol near the hammer, then extended it out to Shriek with a guileless look on his face, making no movement to repeat the process with the pistol on his left hip.

Having "disarmed" himself, he turned and fixed Drimmle a look.

" Ser Drimmle, your debt is not to us, but to the Emperor.  We both know that    HE    does not bargain and will not bargain.  We are not collecting a debt that can be erased, we are merely giving you the opportunity to pay it down.  Do you really want to stand before the Throne with this blot on your soul? "
bramblefoot
 

milo will stare down drimmle.  "they are doing this to you, not us"  he says. his left wrist does a half rotate towards shriek and stubber boy, and he'll subvocalize back  "lets see how they like a good taste of holy promethium" 

he flashes his pointer finger at marcella, and then moves it over to drimmle  "id advise you surrender, but it seems were past that"  with a  fwoosh  sound, a jet of flame ignites and cascades over shriek and stubber boy

assuming both of drimmles accomplices are in range of the wrist flamer, im gonna need agility tests from both of them or be lit on fire by a cone of holy promethium

 (1d10+3)[ 4 ] 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

It seems Marc didn't need to wait for a response from Hound.

No sooner had Arls warning come in through the subvocaliser, than did Milo ignore it and raise his weaponised wrist at Shriek.

Marcella didn't get a chance to yell out for him to stop. He'd already ignored her the first time. All she felt was a curtain of heat against her skin as he disgorged a flame thrower inside a building.

Her eyes wide, mouth agape, Marc thought for half second and let out a pulse of psychic energy that scrambled the local circuitry and jammed mechanical devices,  including that detonator/bomb and the lethal machinegun levelled in their direction. The lights would flicker and then go out and a dim dark would coat the welcome chamber, illuminated by the gout of flame from Milo's wrist.

She'd then move, desperate to get out of the drop-zone of the bomb and preferably using Milo as a human shield.

She put her hand on Orlas shoulder, encouraging the other girl to make haste.

 "We've got six seconds - move!!"  

OOC -
Half Action: Weapon Jinx, see OOC.
Half action: Moving with the group out from under the bomb drop zone.
rax
If there had been time to roll his eyes, Hound would have, but his sense of self-preservation takes over and he simply sprints straight out of the kill zone, aiming to get as far in between the two sets of stairs as possible.

 Actions 
Rolled Initiative 11 in the OOC thread.

 Full Action:  Run as far as possible (thanks to his Sprint talent, Hound can Run up to 48 metres in a round).
Run makes anyone using a ranged attack against him take a -20 penalty to their BS test until Hound's next turn. Anyone attacking in melee gets +20 to their WS test.
Wyndeward
Arl reached across his body with his right hand and drew his other stub automatic.

He snapped a shot at the hand holding the bomb's detonator, praying to the Emperor that destroying the detonator wouldn't set off the bomb.

 (1d100)[ 47 ]  vs. a 49+10 (short range)-10(called shot(dead-eye shot))

Damage:  (1d10+4)[ 14 ] 
Haval
Orla is usually aware enough to react quickly but evidently wasn't expecting events to go down as they had. Getting away from the blast radius or the heavy stubber was the obvious choice, but she'll also aim for either a side door or some furniture that she might be able to shelter behind.


 
 Spoiler 

Initiative 6

Full Action to run and find cover
 
Wyndeward
Righteous Fury?

 
 Spoiler: Dice 
 (1d100)[ 90 ] 
 (1d10+4)[ 9 ]  if applicable
 
Bennosuke
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 " Whas the Purgatory Ring?  Whys it no mansh land? "

Despite the slack-jawed look on Arl's face, his mind was racing, frantically trying to figure out how to pull out as much information as possible from Pip. 
 

" The Purgatory Ring? " Pip asks, clearly surprised by Arl's ignorance, " you've never hard o' it? " His face suddenly screws up for a moment, his neck going stiff as it looks like he is fighting the urge to vomit. A few moments go by and he takes a heavy swallow, then a gasp of air. Color returning to Pip's face he says, " Itsh... itsh an area of shpace on the border of the Ixaniad and Calixish shectors. Ixaniad naval law actually forbidsh travel through the Ring! Rumo hash it, that there's still xenosh infected planetsh out there. "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " The Purgatory Ring? " Pip asks, clearly surprised by Arl's ignorance, " you've never hard o' it? " His face suddenly screws up for a moment, his neck going stiff as it looks like he is fighting the urge to vomit. A few moments go by and he takes a heavy swallow, then a gasp of air. Color returning to Pip's face he says, " Itsh... itsh an area of shpace on the border of the Ixaniad and Calixish shectors. Ixaniad naval law actually forbidsh travel through the Ring! Rumo hash it, that there's still xenosh infected planetsh out there. " 
 

" Naw, Pip... I ain't ever been above mid-Hive, let alone inta space " Arl said, sounding wistful.  " Xenos... thass bad business, e'en if assa Rogue Trader, 'e's allowed..."
 
Bennosuke
 he flashes his pointer finger at marcella, and then moves it over to drimmle "id advise you surrender, but it seems were past that" with a fwoosh sound, a jet of flame ignites and cascades over shriek and stubber boy

assuming both of drimmles accomplices are in range of the wrist flamer, im gonna need agility tests from both of them or be lit on fire by a cone of holy promethium 

All hell breaks out as Father Milo suddenly attacks. Shriek, the little freak, darts aside but is unable to fully avoid the blaze. Her coveralls catch aflame, and she hollers in surprise, or perhaps anger. The massive man with the heavy stubber stumbles backwards, almost falling over on the stairs, but manages to step out of the path of the cone of fire.

(OOC: Trask gets out of the way but Shriek does not. Rolled damage which is soaked between the armor and toughness bonus despite the penetration, but Shriek still catches on fire)

Somewhere far away, Drimmle's voice can be heard over the sudden panic screaming, " No, no, no! You fools! No! "


 Arl reached across his body with his right hand and drew his other stub automatic.

He snapped a shot at the hand holding the bomb's detonator, praying to the Emperor that destroying the detonator wouldn't set off the bomb. 

Arl snaps off a shot, drawing and firing before Ser Drimmle can press the detonator. The man's arm flies backwards with the impact of the stub round, a gout of blood exploding from his biceps.

(OOC: Arl does 7 damage after TB and armor soak, not enough to cause critical damage and cause him to drop the trigger)


 Her eyes wide, mouth agape, Marc thought for half second and let out a pulse of psychic energy that scrambled the local circuitry and jammed mechanical devices, including that detonator/bomb and the lethal machinegun levelled in their direction. The lights would flicker and then go out and a dim dark would coat the welcome chamber, illuminated by the gout of flame from Milo's wrist.

She'd then move, desperate to get out of the drop-zone of the bomb and preferably using Milo as a human shield.

She put her hand on Orlas shoulder, encouraging the other girl to make haste.

"We've got six seconds - move!!"

OOC -
Half Action: Weapon Jinx, see OOC.
Half action: Moving with the group out from under the bomb drop zone. 

The lights go out all of a sudden, throwing the hall into complete darkness, thanks to Marcella's powers of the warp. Shriek however remains illuminated, the fire on her coveralls casting a dim light around her. In an instant Marcella is able to connect with the machine spirits in bomb hanging overhead and in the heavy stubber, shutting both weapons down.

(OOC: weapon jinx takes a full action per page 168. Marcella has jammed both weapons as discussed. She remains "in the drop zone")

Ignoring her flaming garments, a crazed look in her eyes, Shriek lets out a terrifying high pitched... shriek, and charges Milo, a pair of curved knives suddenly appearing in her hands. She falls on Milo like a bat out of hell, but The Father stumbles out of the way unharmed.

(OOC: Shriek is up next, and charges, and surprisingly misses)

Realizing what is happening, Hound bolts, running past his companions and deeper into the cavernous entryway, heading for the space between the two stairwells. Orla is right behind him.

(OOC: Both run for cover)

The fat man with the heavy stubber can be heard chuckling for just a moment, till he pulls the trigger of his weapon and finds it jammed. His chuckle resumes a moment later.

A second later he quick draws a hand cannon, its rapport thundering within the hall. Ser Drimmle, still screaming, presses the trigger of his detonator. There is a twanging sound as the string of the bomb is cut and the bomb falls between Arl and Marcella and Milo. It hits the ground, and "miraculously" does not go off. With a shriek Drimmle drops the detonator, raises his pistol and fires.

(OOC: Trask rolls a hit against Arl. I was actually tempted to have him throw one of his frag grades despite Shriek, but am going with the hand cannon. He rolls a hit for 11 damage against Arl not including soak, unless Arl successfully dodges. Drimmle targets Marcella the witch, and also rolls a hit  for 8 damage. Both hits would be to the body. Otherwise, we are back to the top of the order, this time starting with Arl)

*****************************************

Pip nods his head, a half dazed expression still on his face. " Sure ish, " he replies, " but that'sh none o' my bushinesh. " He hiccups and starts to rise, " I think I should go shoon. Unlesh.... you wanna get me another drink! "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Chaos devoured the antechamber of the beautiful manse, the walls of sky blue and intricate paintings baring witness to pandemonium and violence.

First, the trigger: that gout of flame. The curtain of heat washed over Marcella's skin as her mind quickly surmised that the fecal matter had indeed hit the fan. Arl, reacting quicker than anyone, withdrew his pistol, took careful aim and put a shot into Drimmles arm, the rich bureaucrat screaming in pain but not injured sufficiently to drop the detonator. This required a split decision from Marc. She  should  have run for cover, as Hound and Orla smartly did, but she knew that bomb above their heads was too big a threat: it had to be neutralised, and she was the only one who could do it. And so she had reached her mind out to scramble the local machine spirits; strings drawn across the walls, through the floor and threaded about the ceiling, as well as gripped and handled by the assailants before them, and into that web her psyche reached - its tentacles slithering around the heavy stubber gripped by the fat mutant, and the bomb dangling above their heads. The feelers searched for those crisis points, the singular positions where a well-placed snip would disable the device, if only for a little while, and they found it.

But the bomb fell anyway.

As that small warhead detached from the ceiling with a nightmarish  Clink!  and started to plummet, Marc's face drew into a rictus of horror. Her mouth was wide open and her body seized with a fear the likes of which she rarely felt. The world seemed to slow down as that cap fell...and fell...and fell...only to indent itself in the beautiful marble floor, a spiderweb of cracks splitting out from its point of impact, rendering the warhead the centre of a network of fissures.

It didn't explode.

The Psyker stared for another second, mouth and eyes wide open before the realisation washed over her. She'd done it! She'd disabled the damn thing, it was a dud! A dud! Marc could have done a little dance of happiness, but an abrupt burning agony erupted from her stomach as Drimmle caught her with a shot from his laspistol.

 "Argh!"  the Psyker hissed, suddenly yanked back into the moment,  "ar s hole!" 

Her gloved hand moving to the newly created seared mark on her tummy, Marcella winced from the hot pain shooting through her nervous system, along with the anguish of knowing the scar that would remain meant bye-bye summer bikini body.

Trusting that Arl knew that they needed Drimmle alive, Marc summoned her mental energies again, drawing them together and blasting them out at her targets...


__________________
OOC:

See OOC thread for which one she casts.
If the bomb is a dud, she casts Soul Killer (a full round action) on Fat Man and directs some shards to Shriek.
If the bomb is only a dud for  this round , then she moves around the corner and casts Dominate on Drimmle, getting 4 successes in an Opposed Willpower roll.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The fat man with the heavy stubber can be heard chuckling for just a moment, till he pulls the trigger of his weapon and finds it jammed. His chuckle resumes a moment later.

A second later he quick draws a hand cannon, its rapport thundering within the hall. Ser Drimmle, still screaming, presses the trigger of his detonator. There is a twanging sound as the string of the bomb is cut and the bomb falls between Arl and Marcella and Milo. It hits the ground, and "miraculously" does not go off. With a shriek Drimmle drops the detonator, raises his pistol and fires.

(OOC: Trask rolls a hit against Arl. I was actually tempted to have him throw one of his frag grades despite Shriek, but am going with the hand cannon. He rolls a hit for 11 damage against Arl not including soak, unless Arl successfully dodges. Drimmle targets Marcella the witch, and also rolls a hit  for 8 damage. Both hits would be to the body. Otherwise, we are back to the top of the order, this time starting with Arl) 
 

Seeing the fat man turn the hand cannon towards him, Arl dives for cover!!

 
 Spoiler: Dice 
 (1d100)[ 47 ]  vs a 51 (Agi, Dodge +10)
 
Wyndeward
Landing in cover, Arl rolls into a crouch, aims and fires at the fat man's head!

 
 Spoiler: Dice 

 (1d100)[ 65 ]  vs a 59 (short range = +10, aim = +10, called shot = -10, BS = 49)

 (1d10+4)[ 9 ] 
 
Haval
 What the ****.  It would be better to not be in this situation but at least the bomb hadn't exploded. Orla will snap off a shot towards the big man without trying to be flashy.

 
 Spoiler 

Half Action - Aim
Half Action - Target the heavy stubber man with Marcella's borrowed autopistol

vs. BS 42 (+10 Aim) (+10 Short Range)
 (1d100)[ 1 ] 
Headshot?

Any damage
 (1d10+2)[ 10 ] 

Any RF
 (1d100)[ 43 ] 
 (1d10)[ 9 ] 
 
Bennosuke
Marcella is unable to move in time. The las bolt shrieks into her chest, singing her coat and her armor, and leaving a her with a spot over her right breast that feels like it's boiling. Arl on the other hand is able to move before Trask fires, the heavy round of the cannon going wide and whizzing off to pang against the wall behind him. He comes up from a roll and snaps off a shot. Despite his years of training, this shot goes wide around Trask.

As the lights flick back on, Father Milo raises the stolen shock maul, a weapon he had insufficient training with but had clasped to his chest since it was stolen, and swings it ineffectually at Shriek. The tiny crazed woman gives him no inroad for an adequate attack.

(OOC: Pausing here to discuss with Banana.  @Wynd: Don't forget the other scene )
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip nods his head, a half dazed expression still on his face. " Sure ish, " he replies, " but that'sh none o' my bushinesh. " He hiccups and starts to rise, " I think I should go shoon. Unlesh.... you wanna get me another drink! " 
 

Arl pastes a stupid grin on his face and signals the girl for another round.  After the waitress leaves, Arl sloppily drinks his drink and speaks to Pip in a low tone.

" I guess what I don' unnerstan is why 'e'd be bringin' the likes of that 'ere?  I mean, mebbe 'e can make deal wit' xenos, being a Rogue Trader 'an all, but who can buy what 'es sellin'? 
rax
Finding himself temporarily out of the line of fire, Hound draws his stubber and takes aim at Trask.

 
 Spoiler: Actions 
 Half action : Ready stubber.
 Half action:  Aim for +10 to next attack
 
Bennosuke
Marcella reaches deep with her power into the immaterium, twisting the warp to create three deadly soul killing shards, as her forehead grows slick with the sweat of exertion. The first she sends out at Shriek, too busy to notice what Marcella is doing till the translucent weapon is lodged deep into her spine. The blow drops the tiny bodyguard to her knees, as she utters a terrible high pitched cry.

(OOC: After toughness soak, 13 damage dealt. Since this is a boss fight, I am requiring critical damage, and thus Shriek is not out of the fight yet)

The second two warp shards fly into the massive guard holding the heavy stubber. The two immaterial weapons strike home with a repeated high pitched ripping sound. The blows stumble Trask, almost knocking him over and leaving a dazed expression on his face.

(OOC: After TB soak trask takes 1 critical damage to the head. He can only take a half action next round and takes an additional level of fatigue)

Shriek rises to her feet, a wild look in her eye and grimaces. As her lips pull back, you can see blood filling her mouth, turning her teeth and lips crimson. She lunges at Father Milo with a sudden strike, which he just manages to get out of the way of.

Down the hall, Hound turns and draws a bead on the stumbled Trask. Orla turns and fires on Trask who is unable to get out of the way. The bullet takes the giant just under his left eye, knocking him over.

(OOC: Orla hits, Trask fails his dodge and thanks to True Grit, only takes -3. He is stunned for the next round and takes even more fatigue)

Ser Drimmle, still shrieking and raving, snaps another shot with his las pistol off at Marcella, that should strike her square in the torso

(OOC: 9 damage to body presoak, unless Marcella can dodge. Otherwise, either way, back to the top of the order.)

**************************************************  **********

Pip sits back down, a dopey grin on his face, when Arl calls the waitress back. The grin spreads to something a little more intelligent, maybe too intelligent, as Arl raises his question. " Ish gotta be those rich noblesh, " Pip says, nodding his head, " Ya hear talksh about all sorts of... evilsh that money can lead ya to. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker gritted her teeth and hissed through a clenched jaw as a  second  las-bolt sliced into her torso like a hot needle puncturing her abdomen. That opened a second palm-sized patch on her body that screamed into her skull with the immolative touch of a burning scar as the scent of her own cauterising flesh reached up into her nostrils.

  &lt;"Son of a ****ing bitch!"&gt;   the Psyker grunted in her native ship dialect, reaching back into the immaterium and drawing a web of the Warp about her body - her material figure abruptly shimmering as if she were a mirage hovering above a hot asphault road.

 "Sorry Arl I gotta take cover!"  is all she could get out to the assassin before her vaporous image scythed through reality and darted underneath the staircase upon which Drimmle's trigger-happy self had been blasting away at her.

This was doubtless the same area within which Orla and Hound had retreated to, with Marcella's spectre-like image taking shape as if emerging out of a mist, two nasty looking lasburn marks across her torso, her hand clenched to one, her face carrying the black soot of oxidised ozone and her chest heaving and panting.

But if she was here in relatively one piece, that likely meant the bomb had been taken care of.
Haval
Orla grins in satisafaction as her shot connects. At the very least it ought to be the big man down for a bit. But it wasn't as if she was interested in staying here and waiting for Drimmle to start shooting at her either. Unless the noble was looking in her direction for someone reason she'll attempt to get behind him. Otherwise she'll aim to knock him over with a tackle.


 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Stealth if possible
vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
 (1d100)[ 48 ] 

Dodge vs. Ag 44 (Dodge +10)
 (1d100)[ 15 ] 

Holding off on grappling because I'm not sure if I should wait till next round. Let me know.
 
Wyndeward
Still crouched in cover, Arl fires his stub automatic at Shriek.

 
 Spoiler: Rolls 
 (1d100)[ 55 ]  vs 69 (BS of 49 +10 (short range)+10(semi-auto)

[roll1d10+4[/roll]
 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Still crouched in cover, Arl fires his stub automatic at Shriek.

 
 Spoiler: Rolls 
 (1d10+4)[ 11 ]  vs 69 (BS of 49 +10 (short range)+10(semi-auto)

[roll1d10+4[/roll]
 
 
 

Argh!!  missed a parenthesis!

 
 Spoiler: This time for sure! 
 (1d10+4)[ 11 ] 
 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip sits back down, a dopey grin on his face, when Arl calls the waitress back. The grin spreads to something a little more intelligent, maybe too intelligent, as Arl raises his question. " Ish gotta be those rich noblesh, " Pip says, nodding his head, " Ya hear talksh about all sorts of... evilsh that money can lead ya to. " 
 

Arl grunted noncommittally, eyeing Pip.  "Sure'n I wish I had the chances to try and resist that sort of evil... money may lead to evil, sure as the day follows night, but the damned stuff is so useful...."
rax
Hound pulls the trigger on his pistol, hoping to bring down the injured mutant with a short burst.

 
 Spoiler: Actions 
 Full action:  Semi-auto burst vs. Trask  (1d100)[ 29 ]  vs. 84 (BS 44, Aim +10, Semi-auto burst +10, Stunned +20) or 94 (Short range +10 if within 15 m)
 Damage (up to three hits possible):   (1d10+3)[ 13 ] ,  (1d10+3)[ 11 ] ,  (1d10+3)[ 8 ] 
 
Bennosuke
Arl's stub automatic roars to life in his hand, kicking familiarly in his hand. The stumbled body guard, is spun around by a series of shots that rip across his chest. A wave of red paints itself across the marble floor as Trask's feet leave the ground and he goes stumbling backwards across the staircase, spinning as he does so such that the heavy stubber makes an ugly metal noise as its nose rakes across the stairs.

(OOC: Two hits. Trask is very dead)

Back at the entryway, Father Milo continues to fumble with the shock maul that he had pilfered, but is unable to so much as back up Shriek, whose whirling blades give the man pause before he can do anything meaningful. Shriek responds with a flurry of attacks, her short blades moving in a series of lightning fast arcs like the dance of some deadly ballerina. But perhaps still shaking off the psychic damage she had suffered, Shriek is unable to make a retorting cut that would hit her target.

Near Arl, Marcella draws again on the warp, disappearing from vision as she moves for an unoccupied region of the landing, searching for safety from Drimmle's gunfire.

(OOC: Pausing here, because I need to ask how Hound wishes to redirect his attack.)

**************************************************  **************************

Pip nods his head over and over in eager agreement. " Yep, " he mutters, glassy eyes on his empty glass, " would at leasht be able to buy shome better booze with it. " His loopy grin fades to something cold and calculating as he contemplates the drink before him. " Say, you sure have a lot of queshtionsh. Perhapsh, you have a real interesht? Look, no judgement. But say you did... maybe you'd be willing to pay a little more money for a favor? " The buffoonish innocence is gone from Pip's countenance, replaced by something dark and hungry.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Arl's stub automatic roars to life in his hand, kicking familiarly in his hand. The stumbled body guard, is spun around by a series of shots that rip across his chest. A wave of red paints itself across the marble floor as Trask's feet leave the ground and he goes stumbling backwards across the staircase, spinning as he does so such that the heavy stubber makes an ugly metal noise as its nose rakes across the stairs.

(OOC: Two hits. Trask is very dead)

Arl will move to a position where he has cover from Ser Drimmle's fire.

**************************************************  **************************

Pip nods his head over and over in eager agreement. " Yep, " he mutters, glassy eyes on his empty glass, " would at leasht be able to buy shome better booze with it. " His loopy grin fades to something cold and calculating as he contemplates the drink before him. " Say, you sure have a lot of queshtionsh. Perhapsh, you have a real interesht? Look, no judgement. But say you did... maybe you'd be willing to pay a little more money for a favor? " The buffoonish innocence is gone from Pip's countenance, replaced by something dark and hungry. 
 

Arl looks at Pip, noting his shift in demeanor.

" How much money are we talking about, Pip?  I mean, there is a reason I've never been beyond mid-Hive..." 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 (OOC: Pausing here, because I need to ask how Hound wishes to redirect his attack.) 
 

 If I can keep the rolls I already made then Hound will instead fire at Shriek.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker panted gently, her face marred by the soot of the lasburns that had cauterised two sections of her torso. Forcing her mind through the burning pain of the searing wounds, Marcella closed her eyes once more and pushed her mind forward, trusting in her position and cover to protect her while she drew the warp upon her psyche...

________
OOC:
See OOC for actions, depending on whether Hound takes out Shriek or not.
Bennosuke
As Trask goes down, Hound turns his attention to Shriek, who is still embroiled in combat with Milo. His pistol bucks in his hand, roar echoing in the cavernous antechamber. Somehow, the knife wielding woman catches that she is being targeted and spins, separating herself from Milo as bullets go whizzing between the two combatants, miraculously hitting neither.

(OOC: Hound gets one hit after recalculating. Shriek successfully dodges.)

Meanwhile, Orla splits from Hound. Moving low and slow, she pulls herself close to the bannister of the stairwell and begins to creep her way towards Drimmle.

(OOC: We can say that at the end of her turn, Orla is just out of melee with Drimmle when she starts again... until...)

Ser Drimmle's voice reaches a pitch high enough to crack glass as he watches Trask fall to the ground dead. When Marcella disappears, he turns his attention to Arl, and fires again with his las pistol, a shot that should hit the man from Kesh straight in the chest. He then starts backing up, taking cautious steps up the stairs, in preparation to flee the combat.

(OOC: This will be a hit to Arl's chest unless he dodges, doing 9 damage presoak... why do I not see armor on his charactersheet? Will pause here before we go back to the top of the order, since it should be Arl up next anyways.

He moves 3m farther away from orla now.)

**************************************************  *******8


 Arl looks at Pip, noting his shift in demeanor.

"How much money are we talking about, Pip? I mean, there is a reason I've never been beyond mid-Hive..." 

The grin returns to Pip's face, but this is a more knowing, more mirthful expression. He replies, " I shuppose it dependsh on what your lookin' for! "
Haval
If Drimmle was still standing and otherwise distracted Orla will move closer and shove her gun in the back of his neck.  'Put it down. Nothing personal.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Full Action - Move up to 8 metres

Intimidate vs. Str 32 / 2
 (1d100)[ 56 ] 
 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ser Drimmle's voice reaches a pitch high enough to crack glass as he watches Trask fall to the ground dead. When Marcella disappears, he turns his attention to Arl, and fires again with his las pistol, a shot that should hit the man from Kesh straight in the chest. He then starts backing up, taking cautious steps up the stairs, in preparation to flee the combat.

(OOC: This will be a hit to Arl's chest unless he dodges, doing 9 damage presoak... why do I not see armor on his charactersheet? Will pause here before we go back to the top of the order, since it should be Arl up next anyways.

He moves 3m farther away from orla now.) 
 

(OOC: Because he's an assassin who tries to look innocuous.  That may change.)

Arl ducks back behind his cover when Ser Drimmle fires!

 (1d100)[ 81 ]  vs 51 (Ag 41, Dodge +10)

(OOC:  I checked my stat block, which says I have 8 out of 10 wounds, which doesn't appear to take into account the four levels of Sounds Constitution I have purchased.  That would put me at 12 of 14, I think...)

**************************************************  *******




 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The grin returns to Pip's face, but this is a more knowing, more mirthful expression. He replies, " I shuppose it dependsh on what your lookin' for! " 
 

Arl smiles in return, his country bumpkin demeanor slipping a touch.   The lower you are in the peckin' order, the more you need to know to get by...  I guess I'm trying to get past mid-Hive...  If'n this fella is making money off'n these doodads, there must a way a poor feller like me can cash in. "
Bennosuke
The las bolt takes Arl in the chest, scorching his guilder robes and leaving a reddened patch of flesh under all the clothing.

(OOC: After toughness soak this is dropped down to 5 damage. This brings him to 7/14. However... it is now Arl's turn to attack as we are at the top of the initiative order. Sorry I should have been clearer about this)

*****************************************

Pip's eyes go wide for a second, but the knowing, almost rueful grin remains on his face. " You lookin to shteal the Rogue Trader'sh goodsh? That would probably bring you a pretty pocket o' thrones. "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The las bolt takes Arl in the chest, scorching his guilder robes and leaving a reddened patch of flesh under all the clothing.

(OOC: After toughness soak this is dropped down to 5 damage. This brings him to 7/14. However... it is now Arl's turn to attack as we are at the top of the initiative order. Sorry I should have been clearer about this)

*****************************************

Pip's eyes go wide for a second, but the knowing, almost rueful grin remains on his face. " You lookin to shteal the Rogue Trader'sh goodsh? That would probably bring you a pretty pocket o' thrones. " 
 

Arl snarled as the pain of Drimmle's shot lanced through him, then took careful aim and fired a single shot at Drimmle's laspistol.
 (1d100)[ 64 ]  vs a 59 (49+10 (half round Aim) +10 (short range) -10 (called shot).

*****************************************

Arl's eyebrows shot up in feigned shock at Pip's suggestion.  " Pip, a body has to eat and drink and while I don' like the idear of stealing from so august a person, knownin' that many throwns're out there can't help but make a body think about it. "
Bennosuke
Arl fires back at the Super Nova ranked Credit Guilder, choosing to target the man's offending weapon. But the shot goes wide as Drimmle begins to flee the battleground, climbing up the stairs.

(OOC: Arl misses)

Nearby, Father Milo curses as he struggles with the off balanced weight of the stolen shock maul. He curses, realizing he had not packed his sword or throwing knives, " Damn it all, " leaving him with no alternative in this situation. Then he catches a moment when Shriek is still in close enough to strike, swinging the shock maul with all of his might. But the little woman, blood still dribbling out of her mouth, spins nimbly, causing the Father to spin almost off balance with the weight of his blow.

(OOC: cross referenced Bramble's post on what weapons Milo brought. He rolls a 19, but is unskilled with the weapon and takes a -20 penalty, dropping his WS to 10. I will keep Shriek's dodge roll for future use... as appropriate 😛)

Marcella summons the power of The Warp again, calling on her powers to use Soul Killer. As the two psychic shards slam into Shriek. To Father Milo's horror, the short bodyguard simply vaporizes into an exploding red mist. The air is filled with the smell of burned flesh and iron, and Father Milo is left speckled with blood. Stricken by the sudden and unexpected violence, Father Milo simply collapses, feinting into sweet unconsciousness.

(OOC: So 9 damage to the head (12-3 for TB soak, was standing on 0 wounds) causes the target to cease existing in any meaningful way. Given that Milo is in close combat with Shriek at the time, I a rolled fear check given the shocking violence of what happened, which did not go well... see OOC thread.

 It is now Hound's turn )

**************************************************  ******

Pip nods his head, the sudden intelligence still burning behind his glassy eyes. " Right then, " he says, showing his yellow teeth, " For a hundred thronesh, I'll get you on Cashmirre's ship the next time he docksh. " Pip watches Arl with hungry expectation, almost salivating as he awaits Arl's answer.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The psyker watched from her secure position as Shrieks body jilted, jolted, spasmed for half a second and then expanded rapidly like a swelling balloon and exploded in a halo of gore and wet ribbons. Poor Father Milo was idealy placed to receive a front row viewing of the event as the jetspray of warm, red remains of what was once a mutant woman showered across his front, robbing him of his senses and prompting him to faint over onto his side. Meanwhile, even standing 10 meters away Marcella was not spared the stench of innards, burning flesh and iron pressing into her nostrils as she brought both her gloved hands up to cover her grimacing mouth.

 "Ewwww-hew-hew-hew-hew gross!"   she mewled into her palms as the chunky salsa splattered about her, before a look of terror struck Marcellas face and she quickly ran her grasping fingers across her head to make sure she didn't catch any airborn steaming guts in her hair.  "Ohh no, no no no, I don't want that sh** in my hair!"  she mewled before her rapid and panicked search revealed no trace of contamination within her beloved mane, which allowed the Psyker to exhale in relief.

For now, the mental understanding that she'd just killed someone, or some thing  as were mutants really people? had not yet dawned on her.
rax
Switching his aim to Sir Drimmle, Hound calls out to the maddened banker.  "Sir Drimmle! Your killers are dead and your bomb is a dud! You are defeated! Drop your weapon and cease this foolishness!"  he calls out.

 
 Spoiler: Actions 
 Full action:  Aim for +20.
 
Bennosuke
(OOC: Since Orla moves before Drimmle anyways, he's gonna have to give up here, though if I was him I would be pretty sure you all are gonna kill him after what has happened so far)

For a moment it looks like Ser Drimmle is going to continue fleeing, but Orla is on him too fast, the muzzle of her gun suddenly pressed into the small of his back. He shrieks hysterically, throwing both hands above his head and allowing the ornate las pistol to drop from his hand. " Don't hurt me, " he screams desperately, " please don't hurt me. Don't kill me, I have done nothing wrong. I did everything you asked of me! " Though his back is turned to the acolytes, you can hear sobs between his desperate pleas.
Haval
Orla looks irritated,  'If I wanted to hurt you I would have shot you already. Just don't appreciate it when someone tries to blow me up is all.'  To the others,  'What now?' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 (OOC: Since Orla moves before Drimmle anyways, he's gonna have to give up here, though if I was him I would be pretty sure you all are gonna kill him after what has happened so far)

For a moment it looks like Ser Drimmle is going to continue fleeing, but Orla is on him too fast, the muzzle of her gun suddenly pressed into the small of his back. He shrieks hysterically, throwing both hands above his head and allowing the ornate las pistol to drop from his hand. " Don't hurt me, " he screams desperately, " please don't hurt me. Don't kill me, I have done nothing wrong. I did everything you asked of me! " Though his back is turned to the acolytes, you can hear sobs between his desperate pleas. 
 

Arl stands up, ignoring the burn to his chest and walks forward towards Drimmle's back, toeing the las-pistol into the corner.

" Appearances to the contrary aside, we don't want to hurt you.  I am afraid your attempt to... alter our accord surprised us, some more than others. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

And just like that, it was over.

Marcella emerged from her position, sooty-faced and breathing heavily as two nasty lasgun burn circles were visible on her chest. Making her way around the stairwell, she paused and stared at the red smear across the floor and splatter up the wall that had once been Shriek. More than anyone present, Marcella knew what awaited the soul after death. Seeing the grisly remains of the mutant, the Psyker was aware that she had sent whatever soul possessed by the misbegotten creature into the Warp that awaited them all. She could only hope that Shriek was an ardent believer in His salvation, as it was the only chance at finding their way to an afterlife outside the roiling, demon-filled warp that awaited the heretic.

Still looking at that stain, Marcella pursed her lips and silently uttered a small prayer and made the sign of the Aquilla across her chest. Her conscience satisfied for now, she turned and hobbled up the stairs to join the others, before giving everyone a once over.

It seemed only her and Arl had caught any fire. Closing her eyes, the Psyker drew in the Warp like living putty to offer both herself and Arl an anodyne, their charred and burned flesh visibly healing and stiching back together.

The task complete, Marcella opened her eyes again and looked at Arl, offering him a bright and sweet smile.

However, the Psykers eyes suddenly went wide as if just remembering something important. Turning to look at Drimmle,  "hold still please, sir"  she spoke in her soft and gentle voice, as she reached forward, wrapped her hands around that ward-necklace and withdrew it off over his head and brought it to herself for inspection.

 "The first time I saw one of these I was 7 years old and on one of the Black Ships heading to Holy Terra for evaluation. They are extremely rare and extremely hard to manufacture. From where did you get this?" 

Marc sounded more fascinated than angry, as she looked again at the ward in her hands, memories long gone returning to her eyes.
rax
 "Restrain him,"  Hound orders Orla with a nod towards Drimmle.

 "That is not a relevant question at the moment,"  he admonishes Marcella.  "Secure the doors and find out if this intermezzo has attracted any outside attention. Then see what you can do for the flaming fool that started all this." 
 "Sir Drimmle, are there any further surprises waiting for us? Now would be a good time to come clean if there are - you will not be spared the God-Emperor's judgement a second time." 
 OOC:  Sorry for being bossy, Hound is annoyed and wants to get this over with.
Wyndeward
Arl feels the pain of the las-burn ease and gives Marcella a smile in return.

Turning back to keep an eye on Drimmle, Arl holds his stub automatic steady, aimed in Drimmle's general direction, although not directly at the banker.

" That you have 'done nothing wrong' is debatable, Ser Drimmle.  You have threatened and attempted to coerce members of the Inquisition.  That alone  should  merit your death.  Better a thousand innocents perish than a heretic escape.  However... " Arl paused for a moment, letting the sentence linger for a second or two.  " There is still the matter of the xenos artifacts to consider and your death, while appropriate, would not yet serve the Emperor. "
Haval
If Arl was also pointing a gun at Drimmle Orla will look for something to tie his hands.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

If Marc was annoyed she didn't show it. Instead, her impassive, savant-like expression remained as she brought her backpack around to her front to store the ward-necklace for later inspection and questioning. There were only three ways Drimmle could have come into possession of this very rare item, as it could only be manufactured by psykers or the adeptus mechanicus, and she knew all of the Psykers on this planet. So, unless Drimmle had received the item from rare and exotic item smugglers, that left the most likely source: the Adeptus Mechanicus. Or more specifically, Magos Petrovskii, to whom they had recently 'trusted' a cache of weapons for destruction.

These thoughts were rolling through Marc's head as she walked down the stairs and towards the slumped over Milo.

 "Hey..."  the psyker spoke, giving the man a little kick in his side with her booted foot.

Seeing that he was slowly coming to, Marcella made sure to go to the front door and peered through any lenses into the outside world to see if the altercation had drawn any attention. Given the large space between Drimmle's house and the streets, separated as they were by his extensive garden, she found it doubtful that any such notice had been acquired, but it never hurt to be certain. Once that was done, she locked the door and acquired a key for its activation, before moving over to Trask to search the dead mutants body, particularly any comms devices that would grant her divination into what was being spoken and shared between the living operatives Drimmle had hired and who were not presently accounted for.

When Milo was finally up and awake, shaken as he might be, Marcella would look at him with that half-vacant, impassive resting face she had.

 "Hey - search the cleaning closet for cleaning aprons, plastic gloves, mops, bleach, soap, water and disposable bags,"  she said, her gentle voice bridging the distance between them.  "You have amends to make,"  she gestured to the splattered, gorey remains of Shriek.  "You can help me move the big guy later; we're going to have to use chemically induced molecular dissociation to dispose of both. This isn't the Underhive where we can leave corpses around the place..." 


OOC:
Allg ^_^.
bramblefoot
milo nods, and climbs to his feet  "i know where everyone keeps their cleaning shtuff"  he jokes, somehow still in a joking mood
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella stared at Milo with a sharp edge that was uncharacteristic of her, a glare almost, the way the priest shrugged off what had just happened getting under her skin.

 "You were told twice not to start something, and you almost got us and our target killed,"  she gestured over her shoulder to the stairway deliberation of Hound, Orla, Arl and Drimmle.

 "Those weapon imports are a spiritual danger to every soul on this planet; we cannot,  I  will not, allow our investigation to be jeapordized. We brought you into the Inquisition weeks ago because we thought you might be useful, but if you're going to disregard what we tell you and indulge in temerarious behavior, you can return to the abbey. Do you understand?" 
Bennosuke
 Orla looks irritated, 'If I wanted to hurt you I would have shot you already. Just don't appreciate it when someone tries to blow me up is all.' To the others, 'What now?' 

Ser Drimmle simply whimpers at this, making a mewling sort of noise more befitting a frightened toddler.


 It seemed only her and Arl had caught any fire. Closing her eyes, the Psyker drew in the Warp like living putty to offer both herself and Arl an anodyne, their charred and burned flesh visibly healing and stiching back together.

The task complete, Marcella opened her eyes again and looked at Arl, offering him a bright and sweet smile. 

Arl can feel the area of his wound washing over with a cold that causes his raw flesh to tingle. He had been healed by Marcella before, and recognizes the unreal sensation in an instant.

(OOC: Character boxes updated)


 However, the Psykers eyes suddenly went wide as if just remembering something important. Turning to look at Drimmle, "hold still please, sir" she spoke in her soft and gentle voice, as she reached forward, wrapped her hands around that ward-necklace and withdrew it off over his head and brought it to herself for inspection. 

To Marcella's shock, even the back of the necklace creates a sudden explosion of heat that forces Marcella to withdraw her hands.

(OOC: Sorry, but someone else with have to deal with the hexagramic ward)


 Turning back to keep an eye on Drimmle, Arl holds his stub automatic steady, aimed in Drimmle's general direction, although not directly at the banker.

"That you have 'done nothing wrong' is debatable, Ser Drimmle. You have threatened and attempted to coerce members of the Inquisition. That alone should merit your death. Better a thousand innocents perish than a heretic escape. However..." Arl paused for a moment, letting the sentence linger for a second or two. "There is still the matter of the xenos artifacts to consider and your death, while appropriate, would not yet serve the Emperor." 

Ser Drimmle is smart enough not to reply, though he stiffens and there is a moment where it appears that he might bark back at Arl.

It is safe to assume that Orla is able to eventually able to make a makeshift rope to tie up Drimmle, if no one has any manacles, though it requires tearing up a some hanging curtains.

 
 Spoiler: @Wynde 
Don't forget the concomitant scene. Pretty sure you are up.
 
Haval
Orla looks impressed at Marcella's reaction to the ward.  'Does it do that for everyone?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

*** Before she started cleaning duty with Milo ***

The Psyker pursed her lips, looking as if she had just bitten into a lemon. With her youthful features and gentle, feminine voice, it was hard to picture Marcella being "angry", let alone taking her seriously if she was.

Nevertheless she didn't look particular happy.

 "Remove it for me, please,"  she asked Orla, drawing her own hands to retrieve her backpack and opening it, presenting it forward so that the underhiver could deposit this item into her care.

 "I have a hunch as to where he got this from, and if I am correct then this operation is deeper than we thought. The ward, if you please..." 
Haval
Orla will gingerly remove the ward from Drimmle's neck if he doesn't get in the way. She's prepared for it to respond badly to her even touching it. After she gets the ward off his neck she'll take a closer look at it to see if it has any sign of who made it. To Marcella,  'Can you even get close to it? I can hold it up.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker stared balefully at the wretched item before nodding slowly to Orla's question.

 "I just can't touch it..."  she uttered, leaning in a little closer to inspect the ward that was being displayed by the underhiver.

The Psyker peered at the item, her eyes wincing and at times having to look aside as if she were peering into the sun. Finally, Marcella just gave up, as she knew time was of the essence.

 "Not here; we'll ask where he got it from after Hound is done with him and inspect it later. We've got to get ready for the rest of his Star Guard goons that might show up." 

This occurred while Hound and Arl interrogated Drimmle as to the.
Bennosuke
 "Sir Drimmle, are there any further surprises waiting for us? Now would be a good time to come clean if there are - you will not be spared the God-Emperor's judgement a second time." 

The fear fades just slightly as Drimmle's lips pull back into a tight scowl. " I have payed a fortunate enhancing the security here since you last attacked me, " he says, though his voice wavers with fear, " though if you will allow me to provide you with the promised documents, you should have no problem. " His eyes dart momentarily to a hallway extending under the two stairwells, before returning to those questioning him.

Ser Drimmle simply flinches as Orla reaches for the chain supporting the hexagrammic ward around his neck. To the Underhiver's relief, there is no sudden shock or pain when she touches it. As Orla undoes the clasp, the room grows slightly silent as a previously present low electric hum fades away. The ward is heavy, clearly made in part of electronics and circuitry.

As Orla holds the intricate piece of holy warding up for Marcella to examine, she recognizes it as similar to those used by guards all over the Black Ship, but she hasn't the slightest clue how they are made, or where this one came from.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella stared at the hated item, her eyes wincing as if she were looking directly into the sun. Finally, she looked away and exhaled, visibly uncomfortable.

 "Thank you O,"  she thanked the underhiver,  "bag it; we'll ask Drimmle later. Ask him when his Star Guard security are returning to the house, we'll need to be ready for them." 

With that, she followed what Hound told her to do earlier: attend to Milo and get some clean up.
rax
 "The documents were what we came here for. Had you stayed true to your oath rather than spend your fortune on trying to  renegotiate  your penance, all of this unfortunate business could have been avoided and the money you spent would still be yours. I hope this teaches you that you cannot cheat the God-Emperor and you cannot cheat the Inquisition,"  Hound replies.

 "Now, please tell me - what's in that hallway under the stairs? Answer honestly or I will have the witch tear the truth from your mind,"  he says dispassionately.
Haval
 Bag it?  Orla wonders if she was supposed to bring something with her but will go looking for something to wrap the object in even if she had to pull a curtain down from the somewhere.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Search to find anything small and valuable looking that might be worth taking
vs. Per 39
 (1d100)[ 74 ] 
 
Bennosuke
 "The documents were what we came here for. Had you stayed true to your oath rather than spend your fortune on trying to renegotiate your penance, all of this unfortunate business could have been avoided and the money you spent would still be yours. I hope this teaches you that you cannot cheat the God-Emperor and you cannot cheat the Inquisition," Hound replies.

"Now, please tell me - what's in that hallway under the stairs? Answer honestly or I will have the witch tear the truth from your mind," he says dispassionately. 

As Hound speaks, Ser Drimmle's face turns from pale to a flushed apple red. Lines furrow his cheeks and brow as he fails to suppress a grimace, his teeth grinding with an audible ripping sound. Ser Drimmle replies through clenched jaw, " The documents I had promised you... and a shotgun in case I needed it. "  His eyes drift from Hound, back to the hallway.

While the group discuss, Orla looks around. She doesn't have a sense for luxury, and literally everything in the landing space looked more expensive than anything she had ever seen in the underhive.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella kept an ear-out for the discussion between Hound, Arl and Drimmle while going about clean up on autopilot. She gestured to where Milo should start mopping and bleaching, as well as the buckets necessary for wringing the mop.

Meanwhile, her mind drifted to the other Star Guard operatives, as she would periodically peek through the large windows of the front chamber in the hope of spotting any returning.
bramblefoot
milo does the work without too much grouching. he may be a noble born, but that doesnt mean he is completely useless  "think they have a woodchipper somewhere?"  he jokes, keeping up the mopping
Bennosuke
Ser Drimmle stiffens at the mention of a wood chipper, barely contained indignity rapidly spreading across his face.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella shook her head gently.

 "Don't need a wood chipper,"  she answered back nonchalantly.

 "We'll use sodium hydroxide and water. That will create a caustic reagent that will molecularly dissociate the soft tissues into a viscous sludge that we can further dilute and flush down the drain of the bath-tub. The remaining skeletal structure will be weakened significantly, so we can wrap it in a bag and grind it up with hammers and turn it into fertilizer meal or also flush it down the drain." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip nods his head, the sudden intelligence still burning behind his glassy eyes. " Right then, " he says, showing his yellow teeth, " For a hundred thronesh, I'll get you on Cashmirre's ship the next time he docksh. " Pip watches Arl with hungry expectation, almost salivating as he awaits Arl's answer. 
 

Arl pretended to think about Pip's offer, then smiled drunkenly.  " Done.  Twenny thrones now, anudder twenny when I know 'e's comin', the balance when the deed is done. "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ser Drimmle stiffens at the mention of a wood chipper, barely contained indignity rapidly spreading across his face. 
 

Arl rolled up his right sleeve, exposing the ivory scrollwork of scar tissue, the small figures of men and beasts running up and down his arm."

" Does it *HAVE* to be a mysterious disappearance?  This sort of thing would normally be done openly as a lesson. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Hearing Arls suggestion, Marcella giggledd softly into her hands.

 "No no, we're not making Drimmle disappear. We're talking about these remains..."  she corrected gently, gesturing to Trasks corpse and Shrieks, ahem, splatter.
Haval
Orla will not help with the cleaning up.  'You know, down below we would just leave any bodies for the rats.'  It seemed like a lot of trouble to go to.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc turned her head to look at the Underhiver, waiting until she had finished speaking.

 "The authorities are more motivated and perceptive up here. We don't want Drimmle atteacting unwanted attention. Even someone of his station doesn't want to have to explain why he's associating with clear mutants, let alone the damage to his social standing." 
Haval
 'All of that assumes there's no one around close enough to hear the gunfire doesn't it? Should we check to see if there's anyone else in the house?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc closed her eyes and tilted her head back, as if smelling a delicious pie.

In reality, she was stretching her powerful mind out like a web across the area, paying particular attention to the estate grounds to see if there was anyone nearby within the house or on the grounds that could be considered Drimmle's allies.
Bennosuke
 'All of that assumes there's no one around close enough to hear the gunfire doesn't it? Should we check to see if there's anyone else in the house?' 

Ser Drimmle finally speaks up, butting in after Orla. " I highly doubt you are going to be able to hide all of the evidence of what happened here... though I swear to you I won't go to the authorities. But look at what you have done to my house. And someone has to have heard the gunfire! "
Haval
Orla shrugs in response.  'Normally that wouldn't be my problem. For the moment I'm just going to do as I'm told.' 
rax
 "If someone heard the gunfire, you will meet them at the door and inform them that we are part of your private security detail and that we have just saved you from an attempted robbery by desperate mutants. Acolytes O and A, we will accompany Sir Drimmle to retrieve the papers we came for,"  Hound says to Drimmle, Orla and Arl.

 "Acolytes M and M, I would suggest that you move the bodies to bathtub or similar container before carrying out your plan. Doing it here is likely to cause an unnecessary mess,"  he adds to Marcella and Milo.
Bennosuke
Pip studies Arl quietly, his eyes narrowing again, belying a more sober intelligence. " Very well, " he says after a moment, extending his hand to await the twenty thrones, " and howsh you want me to contact ya? "


**************************************************  ***********

Marcella extends her perception out over the area, her mind seeing far beyond that which her eyes or other senses would provide. Other than her companions, Drimmle's is the only presence currently in the mansion, though she can sense the minds of civilians outside, moving to and fro. There is no one moving in on the mansion as far as she can detect.


 "If someone heard the gunfire, you will meet them at the door and inform them that we are part of your private security detail and that we have just saved you from an attempted robbery by desperate mutants. Acolytes O and A, we will accompany Sir Drimmle to retrieve the papers we came for," Hound says to Drimmle, Orla and Arl. 

Ser Drimmle, hands still up in the air, grumbles, " Would you be alright with me leading the way then, or would you like me to follow? "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip studies Arl quietly, his eyes narrowing again, belying a more sober intelligence. " Very well, " he says after a moment, extending his hand to await the twenty thrones, " and howsh you want me to contact ya? " 
 

Arl counts out twenty thrones from his purse.  " I am here most nights and if I ain't, m'frien' Otto usually is in.  Just tell 'im you need t' find me." 


**************************************************  ***********


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Marcella extends her perception out over the area, her mind seeing far beyond that which her eyes or other senses would provide. Other than her companions, Drimmle's is the only presence currently in the mansion, though she can sense the minds of civilians outside, moving to and fro. There is no one moving in on the mansion as far as she can detect.



Ser Drimmle, hands still up in the air, grumbles, " Would you be alright with me leading the way then, or would you like me to follow? " 
 

Arl half-mockingly makes a gesture of "after you" with his scarred right arm.
Haval
 'I think you should go first.'  Orla gestured with her gun.  'And if there's anything through there we should worry about you know my friend here will know about it.'  Meaning Marcella.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella's eyes opened and she returned to normal, blinking a few times.

 "There's no one else in the house,"  she stated up to Orla, Hound and Arl.

 "And there's no one approaching the building either, everyone outside is going about their day,"  she gestured to the wall and the general 'outside' direction.


 "Acolytes M and M, I would suggest that you move the bodies to bathtub or similar container before carrying out your plan. Doing it here is likely to cause an unnecessary mess," he adds to Marcella and Milo. 

Marcella returned a look to Hound of  'Really? You don't say!'  her eyebrow perked, the corner of her mouth amused. She wanted to reply sarcastically that she was going to just melt 300lbs of mutant guts all over the foyer floor, but thought better of it. Save such banter for when they were off-duty, and not in front of Drimmle.
Bennosuke
Pip eagerly receives the thrones from Arl, making sure to count them up in his hands before saying, " Very well. Will find ya when it'sh time. " With that, he'll give a nod to Arl, rise from the booth, and stumble into the dark and out of the bar.

(OOC: I have subtracted the 20 thrones from Arl's character box, he is down to 37)

**************************************************  *****************

Ser Drimmle with fire a hardened glare at Arl, and then at Orla before saying, " Very well then. Follow me. " He will straighten his posture, though making sure to keep his hands above shoulder level, and will begin marching down the stairs with an air of indignation. Once in the gallery, he will lead his captors into the hallway under the arching staircases. The walkway is spacious, and unsurprisingly ornately decorated. Oil paintings and framed holo-picts line the walls. Drimmle passes several doors, walking straight down the hall and into a robust library. On a desk sits a leather rectangular filing case, and an antiquated looking hunting shotgun.

Standing in the doorway, making no attempt at anything funny, Ser Drimmle says, " Here we are. "
Haval
Orla is not exactly covering Drimmle with her pistol but could very easily switch to doing that if there was a need. She's paranoid enough about being here to give the room a quick once over before anyone enters it.

 
 Spoiler 

Awareness vs. Per 39 (Awareness +10)
 (1d100)[ 13 ] 
 
Wyndeward
Arl scanned the room, his eye alighting on the books and ignoring the opulent furnishings.  Seeing the shotgun and filecase on the desk, he hold up his uncovered arm, indicating that Ser Drimmle should halt.

 "I take it the files we requested are in the leather case, Ser Drimmle?" 
Bennosuke
As Orla follows Ser Drimmle into the study, she notices no signs of traps or further henchman. However, she does pick up on the two security cameras on the ceiling, one watching the entrance half of the room, the other the back-half.


 "I take it the files we requested are in the leather case, Ser Drimmle?" 

" Yes, " Ser Drimmle says flatly, his face lined with anger, shoulders taught and pinched up to his ears. With his eyes glued to the table, Ser Drimmle will sigh before saying slowly, " Look, if you are going to kill me, just do it now and get it over with! "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Meanwhile, down in the foyer, Marcella directed and supervised Milo as they mopped and cleaned up the antechamber of Drimmle's house.

Confident that the priest could continue this without supervision, the Psyker would take a gander through the rest of the house, allowing her senses to roll over the area as she took in the beautiful carvings of the architecture, the bas-reliefs across the walls and the various art, sculpture and pottery arrayed beautifully within the premise.
Haval
Orla will point out the cameras to Hound,  'We bothered about that?'  To Drimmle,  'If I was going to do that I would have shot you during the gunfight.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 As Orla follows Ser Drimmle into the study, she notices no signs of traps or further henchman. However, she does pick up on the two security cameras on the ceiling, one watching the entrance half of the room, the other the back-half.



" Yes, " Ser Drimmle says flatly, his face lined with anger, shoulders taught and pinched up to his ears. With his eyes glued to the table, Ser Drimmle will sigh before saying slowly, " Look, if you are going to kill me, just do it now and get it over with! " 
 

Arl grimaces and shakes his head.

" Ser Drimmle, I know you are used to dealing with an entirely different sort of people, both socially and professionally, so I am willing to make certain allowances.  I told you that we didn't come here to kill you.  That was the truth.  I told you the Emperor would not profit by your death.  That is my belief.  My masters in the Inquisition feel that killing would be counterproductive.  Those orders may as well have come from the Emperor himself, as far I am am concerned.  Unlike the folks you are used to dealing with, I do not lie except when my duty to the Emperor   demands   it of me... and even then, I try not to lie.  So, for at least the time being, you have nothing to fear from me. "

With that being said, Arl strode into the study, leaving Ser Drimmle under Orla's watchful eyes.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla will point out the cameras to Hound,  'We bothered about that?'  
 

  "No. Before we leave we will visit Sir Drimmle's security centre and review the footage. We will excise anything troublesome. Our host will help us, if necessary. Won't you, Sir Drimmle?"  Hound answers.
Bennosuke
Ser Drimmle seems only minimally relieved by Arl's words. Hatred and anguish remain etched into each line of his haggard face.

To Hound's statement the captive sighs. " If you wish, " Drimmle says, slowly shaking his head, " last time you and your team deactivated the security system all on your own. " He screws his face up as if something disgusting had been brushed under his nose then adds, " That's everything. Do you want me to grab the files, or do you not trust me enough? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


The psyker walked casually around the mansion, half-inspecting and half just curious. Her shorter figure was made to seem even more diminutive amidst the tall ceilings and opulent architecture, but her large eyes took everything in with a gentle smile as she appreciated the craftsmanship and beauty that was on display. She did not long or lust for such a place herself, though she certainly wouldn't turn it down! Instead, she just enjoyed being among it, knowing it existed.

She knew that soon she'd get a buzz when the others decided to summon 'The Witch' to scare the bejeezes out of Drimmle or sift through his thoughts, so for now, Marc smiled softly to herself as she moved through the beautiful house and inspected the area. She particularly enjoyed looking through the ornate, enormous windows and across the garden at the various flowers and plants. There was something so peaceful about it that she enjoyed.
Haval
Orla, who can't read and is indifferent with technology, will stay focused on Drimmle. On the matter of trusting him,  'I'd say in this line of work it's better to trust no one.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ser Drimmle seems only minimally relieved by Arl's words. Hatred and anguish remain etched into each line of his haggard face.

To Hound's statement the captive sighs. " If you wish, " Drimmle says, slowly shaking his head, " last time you and your team deactivated the security system all on your own. " He screws his face up as if something disgusting had been brushed under his nose then adds, " That's everything. Do you want me to grab the files, or do you not trust me enough? " 
 

Arl walks over to the desk and picks up the leather filecase, takes one last look at the books and returns to the doorway and looks at Ser Drimmle.

" I can see the hate in your eyes, Ser Drimmle.  You should not hate us, as it was your choices that brought us to your door.  In your position as matters stand, hate is a luxury item you literally cannot afford. 
Bennosuke
To the relief, and perhaps surprise of those around, nothing happens when Alr approaches the desk and picks up the folder. Ser Drimmle watches the offworlder with true malice in his eyes. At Arl's words he replies, " It seems there is little left I can afford these days, " the words burning acid spat from his lips.

A quick peek at the files is reassuring that they are legitimate, if anyone checks, though the different documents are in a mix of High and Low Gothic.

Seeing how the others were taking orders from Hound, Ser Drimmle turns to the man. Hand still raised above his hands he says, " Now what? "
rax
 "Now? Now you will also tell us about the protection detail you hired - what instructions have you given them besides keeping an eye out for us, and how soon may we expect them to turn up here? Then we will find somewhere comfortable to chat and you will tell us everything you've been up to and what work you've done for Durchess since we last met."  Hound answers flatly.
Bennosuke
Ser Drimmle's face turns pale at the line of questioning from Hound, his eyes going wide with sudden fear. But when Hound finishes, he takes a measured breath in and out, and as he exhales his expression changes. Brow furrowing and eyes turning cold like the underhive, he replies, " Well, while you have managed to kill my personal detachment, I did hire a number of  security officers  to patrol the streets. It sounds like you may have run into them. While they would probably wait to hear from me before converging on this location, given my recent lack of communication and the recent firefight in my home, I am sure they would have several reasons to start rushing here right now. " Finishing the though brings the return of a small mirthful smirk to the corners of Drimmle's mouth. He nods his head towards the folder (likely still) in Arl's hand and says defiantly, " You have everything you asked for in that file. I have done as you asked, though of course there is more? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc had stopped near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows of a wing where she could peer out and across that garden, the multi-colored and neat arrangement of nature captivating her imagination for a few minutes. The symphony of colors and shapes unfolded before her, a rare oasis in her life that lacked such beauty. Each petal and blade of grass seemed to beckon her, whispering stories of serenity and escape. It was a moment of respite from their grim but necessary task, a glimpse into a world of order and beauty that she could only admire from a distance.

Soon, however, a soft vibration on her arm yanked Marcella back into the present. Looking down at her microbead, the Psychic packed up her personal thoughts and stored them away, for there was work to be done.

Turning and heading back through the mansion, Marc passed Milo as he was mopping up the 'mess' created by Shrieks explosion and Trasks demise. Turning onto the stairwell, she trotted up to the second floor and made her way to where she heard the voices of her companions and Drimmle. Soon, her short and youthful image was darkening the doorway - the dreaded Witch.

 "You wanted to see me?" 
Haval
To Arl and Hound,  'You want me to watch the front? Just in case.' 

If anyone else was going to show up at the house she would prefer not to be taken by surprise.
rax
 "We may shortly be moving on to Sir Drimmle's security centre, from which we can access the pict-recorders outside, but please keep a watch on the door for now,"  Hound answers Orla.

 "Sir Drimmle, it would behove you to be a little less pleased with yourself. You have proven yourself false, so we will not be taking you at your word concerning the information you have gathered. We will study it in detail and interrogate you on any matters of further interest. We do not wish to be disturbed while doing so, therefore you will now call your security officers and find out what they are doing. If necessary, you will make it clear that the situation here is under control, and that you do not want them to return until they have thoroughly combed the streets for suspicious-looking Credit Guilders,"  Hound instructs Drimmle, blithely ignoring his defiant tone.

 "Acolyte, you will be responsible for ensuring that Sir Drimmle gives us the truth and nothing but the truth. Are you prepared to do so?"  he asks Marc.
Bennosuke
Orla runs back to the landing which had just recently been a hotly contested battle ground. Opening the door, Orla can see across the yard, though her vision is partly obscured by the sports car and the van. The bars of the gate entrance allow Orla to see out on the street, though again her view is not great. Orla is struck by the thought "hopefully I'm hard to see as well". Though she doesn't see any undercover Star Guards approaching, the few pedestrians she can see have given the manse a wide birth and are staring and pointing at the building.


 "Sir Drimmle, it would behoove you to be a little less pleased with yourself. You have proven yourself false, so we will not be taking you at your word concerning the information you have gathered. We will study it in detail and interrogate you on any matters of further interest. We do not wish to be disturbed while doing so, therefore you will now call your security officers and find out what they are doing. If necessary, you will make it clear that the situation here is under control, and that you do not want them to return until they have thoroughly combed the streets for suspicious-looking Credit Guilders," Hound instructs Drimmle, blithely ignoring his defiant tone. 

Hound's words seem to have the opposite of their intended effect, and the more he talks the more Drimmle appears incensed and indignant. " Pleased with myself? " Drimmle shrieks, " you and your colleagues have veritable ruined my life. I have been unable to get a wink of sleep since your group broke into my house, beat me, coerced me, and robbed me. And now I have nothing, my life is over! Hah, I will take pleasure in any little triumph I can clutch at this point! " Forgetting himself, Ser Drimmle lowers one of his raised hands to point a long finger in Hound's face. He continues, " And how dare you accuse me of being proven false. Everything was not supposed to happen as it did. If only your friend had not started shooting. All I wanted was to hand over the documents as promised, and know that then I could leave this Hive and my nightmares behind! Do you think I wanted a firefight in my own hallway! Servants of the Emperor? Hah, I would hope He would have the foresight to choose more reliable servants than your lot! " By the time he is done, spittle has begun to foam at the corners of Drimmle's lips, and his face has again turned red as a Terran apple.
Haval
Assuming that the others can keep an eye on Drimmle, Orla will go looking for a window where she can watch the main approach to the front of the house.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc arrived in time to hear Hounds warning to Drimmle, and she did so still wearing the two marks on her chest and abdomen where he had shot her, the cauterised wounds having healed remarkably quickly to the Lords eyes.

She was also there to witness Drimmles outburst, her eyes narrowing at him and...the wound in his arm partially stitching over, the bullet within slowly pushed out and the flesh seemingly rehabilitating itself.


 "Acolyte, you will be responsible for ensuring that Sir Drimmle gives us the truth and nothing but the truth. Are you prepared to do so?" 

Marc nodded once,  "Yes sir,"  before turning her full attention to Drimmle and stepping towards him.

 "The impertinence of our colleague aside, you have only yourself to blame for this, Sir,"  Marc stated in her soft and gentle voice.

 "You are part of a conspiracy that is smuggling weapons into this Hive. Weapons that come from an origin I am  very  familiar with. Your actions have jeopardized the souls of millions, including your own, by allowing their entry. If you could fathom the eternal torment you have exposed yourself and everyone on this planet to, I doubt you would be as lenient as we have been..." 

She gestured to the closest seat, implying Drimmle should place himself within it.

 "Some of my colleagues don't believe you're trustworthy, and it's not hard to see why..."  she looked down briefly at those two burn-scars on her chest,  "they believe you're in on it. Those two bodyguards? They weren't human, were they sir? You know what the penalty that carries under the law, don't you?" 

The Psyker would approach, coming to stand next to him.

 "But, my argument is that you're just greedy. You didn't know where those weapon crates came from, the true danger they posed, nor the madman you have been helping...and you're going to help me prove it..." 

Marcella then reached for her right hand and slowly started withdrawing her thin-skinned glove, one digit at a time until her whole hand was exposed.

 "Here's how this works. Any resistance will be interpreted as guilt. You will let me in without a struggle, and in ten seconds, it will all be over. And if you  really  resist, I'll put you under, and learn everything I need anyway."
 
She tried to offer a reassuring smile, dredging up her pediatric experience when dealing with sick kids.

 "Understood?" 

Her hand moved towards his forehead...
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Orla runs back to the landing which had just recently been a hotly contested battle ground. Opening the door, Orla can see across the yard, though her vision is partly obscured by the sports car and the van. The bars of the gate entrance allow Orla to see out on the street, though again her view is not great. Orla is struck by the thought "hopefully I'm hard to see as well". Though she doesn't see any undercover Star Guards approaching, the few pedestrians she can see have given the manse a wide birth and are staring and pointing at the building.



Hound's words seem to have the opposite of their intended effect, and the more he talks the more Drimmle appears incensed and indignant. " Pleased with myself? " Drimmle shrieks, " you and your colleagues have veritable ruined my life. I have been unable to get a wink of sleep since your group broke into my house, beat me, coerced me, and robbed me. And now I have nothing, my life is over! Hah, I will take pleasure in any little triumph I can clutch at this point! " Forgetting himself, Ser Drimmle lowers one of his raised hands to point a long finger in Hound's face. He continues, " And how dare you accuse me of being proven false. Everything was not supposed to happen as it did. If only your friend had not started shooting. All I wanted was to hand over the documents as promised, and know that then I could leave this Hive and my nightmares behind! Do you think I wanted a firefight in my own hallway! Servants of the Emperor? Hah, I would hope He would have the foresight to choose more reliable servants than your lot! " By the time he is done, spittle has begun to foam at the corners of Drimmle's lips, and his face has again turned red as a Terran apple. 
 

When Ser Drimmle pauses to take a breath, there is a loud *snick* of the hammer of a stub being pulled back.

" Ser Drimmle, perhaps you are under the delusion that you hold some power in this equation.  Who brought the mutants and the bomb into the situation?  Who sought to coerce through the threat of exploding said bomb members of the Holy Inquisition.  You seem to grievously misunderstand your circumstances.  Rarely does one get, shall we say, a reprieve of execution when one not protected by a Writ of Trade deals in proscribed Xenos artifacts.  By rights, we should have killed you, removed your head and put in on a pike in front of your house and left it there for the next ten generations as a warning not to do what you have done.  Instead, we gave you the opportunity to put things to right.  Rather than embrace this rare second chance, you sought to pressure us into not fufilling our divine mission.  And your excuse is a little lost sleep? "
Bennosuke
The wall along the entrance side of the manse has many large and impressive glass windows through which Orla can peer out on the front of the house. Of course, there is no way to completely keep herself hidden, though she can try her best to hide in the gauzy linen curtains.

(OOC: "reinforcements" will/may be coming, but not yet. Will return to this if/when we get there).

Ser Drimmle's face turns a ghostly pale when Marcella approaches. His mouth opens as if to speak, but only a low moan comes out, and this stifles when the sanctioned psyker starts speaking. Though he stares at Marcella in wide eyed terror, he follows her command to sit, raising both hands again above his head as if she were pointing a gun to it. Still, he remains dumbstruck to Marcella's line of questioning, perhaps not even hearing the questions, as he continues to simply stare.

But when Marcella reaches out to touch Ser Drimmle's wrist, he recoils with a shriek, tumbling backwards. " Don't touch me! " he gasps, falling out of the chair and into a heap on the floor. The group close in on Ser Drimmle as he begins to crawl to his hands and knees, blocking his attempt to escape.

In frustration Marcella decides to use her powers of the warp to overload Drimmle's consciousness and knock him out. She hits him with a blast of energy, which forces the man to cry out as if he were slapped. When he looks up at Marcella, there is a thread of sticky blood leaking from his left nostril. " Curse you witch, " he mutters, breathing heavily, his brow slick with sweat. And then Marcella hits him again...

(OOC: Drimmle miraculously passes the first WP roll against Marcella, which leads us to her second roll of 55. Please roll 1d100 for psychic phenomenon, before I roll Drimmle's second WP roll.

@Wynde: I don't mean to take away your action... though to be honest, it would likely have been easier/better off to just intimidate the poor bastard.)
Haval
Orla will find some furniture or a part of the wall to lean against until she's needed or someone arrives at the front door.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Probably worth a stealth roll then
vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
 (1d100)[ 33 ] 
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Drimmle had already shot Marcella twice, deliberately targeting her among the group and opening a pair of wounds on her torso. But despite that, she still did her best to present a pleasant front when it came time to initiate the interrogation.

Placing her hand against his forehead, he concentration beginning to slide out of her own mind and into his,  "Now if you'll just - " 
 "Don't touch me!"  Drimmle shoved aside Marcella's connecting appendage and bowled her aside as he leapt out of the chair.

 "No, sto - argh!"  

Marcella winced as her concentration was broken, the invisible passage forming between their minds splintering and shoving back into her head as if it were a broken shard of glass, causing her to snap her eyes shut and and bringing her hands up to her skull with a whine of pain. No sooner had she whined in sharp pain than the temperature in the room suddenly dropped to zero as if all the warmth were sucked out of it, chills eating into any exposed skin and a thin layer of frost materialising over the inanimate surfaces, including clothing. For a few moments all felt as if they had stepped into a meat freezer, before the temperature abruptly shifted back to normal and the sheen-like frost dissipated.

Panting, blinking her eyes, now glaring with a visible anger, Marc stalked around the furniture to stand over Drimmle who had attempted to make his escape on all fours, rolling over to reveal a finger of blood trickling from one of his nostrils.

 "Curse you witch," 
 "I tried to make it easy. You want the hard way? Fine." 


OOC
_________
&gt;&gt; enter third and successfully rolled Psychic Shriek.

If he's knocked out, then she'll use those Mind Scan rolls.

If he STILL manages to successfully save, then she'll keep Psychic Shrieking him until he fails.

 
 Spoiler 
Psychic Shrieking:  (1d100)[ 2 ]  vs TN 80
Psychic Shrieking:  (1d100)[ 9 ]  vs TN 80
Psychic Shrieking:  (1d100)[ 81 ]  vs TN 80
Psychic Shrieking:  (1d100)[ 63 ]  vs TN 80
Psychic Shrieking:  (1d100)[ 75 ]  vs TN 80
 
rax
 "Well, I was intending for Drimmle to check in with the Star Guard  before  interrogating him, but too late for that now, I think,"  Hound mentions in passing to Arl.  "Remain here and assist M as needed. I'll go to the security centre and see if I can access the pict-recorders to keep an eye out for unwelcome guests." 

As he heads off to the security centre, Hound calls Milo on his micro-bead and tells him to stow the two corpses in Drimmle's study underneath the stairs, then assist Orla in keepin watch.
Bennosuke
Orla is able to take good cover as she watches the street.

**************************************************  ****

Undeterred by Ser Drimmle's resistance, Marcella continues to push forward with her will. As the pskyer continues to tap into the Warp, her breath begins to become visible as the temperature in the room suddenly drops. Crystals of ice begin to form across the surface of a nearby glass table, and those around Marcella begin to shiver uncontrollably. Frost spreads out from her feet, crawling across the floor in an expanding circle of tiny icicles.

Ser Drimmle watches with horror, as blood continues to pour from his nostril. Marcella continues to push, and as the room begins to return to a more comfortable temperature, Ser Drimmle finally falls backwards, his body spasming several times before finally giving into unconsciousness. By then Marcella is breathing very hard. Her forehead too is slick with sweat, and she can feel the cold stains under her arms in the cloth under her robes.

With Ser Drimmle unconscious, Marcella steps forward to attempt Mindscan, placing a hand somewhere on the man's body. Marcella is immediately blasted with a level of cognitive pain she was not prepared for. Ser Drimmle's mind is a bleeding wound of anxiety and fear. His thoughts are scattered beyond a normal level of sanity, and as she struggles to trace through his unconscious thoughts, it becomes clear just how crazed the group's last assault on him has been. Pushing into his surface thoughts, Marcella is aware that Ser Drimmle plans on committing suicide now that everything has gone sideways. He was not lying; the man has not slept wink since the group assaulted him and he has clearly been suffering from severe PTSD from the attack.

His mind is unguarded and Marcella can gather specific information up to level three for Mind Scan.

(OOC: Please give me wp roll as requested in OOC thread for psychic rot)


**************************************************  *******

Hound leaves Marcella and Arl, heading back to the security room. He had been here before, and remembers the group accessing the computer where they had first found Ser Drimmle, and had wiped out prior camera records. Having interfaced with the computer before, it shouldn't be too hard to accomplish what Hound had come here to do.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc exhaled as she forced her mind forward once again, screaming through the ley-lines of the warp to smother Drimmles consciousness and suppress it, the man spasms, writhing but then going still before her, eyes closing over, chest rising and falling.

  "********..."   the psyker hissed under her breath, asking Arl to help her get him back into the chair.

Once he was seated again, Marc moved her hand forward and flattened it over the nobles forehead and closed her eyes, her own psyche phasing through the physical connection, crossing the distance between minds and penetrating the barriers that separated them. The world around her blackened into a rapid tunnel through which her own consciousness poured before emerging into the shattered mental landscape of Drimmle's state of mind. His paranoia, his anxiety and his now terminal desire to escape the reality of his life all oozed back into Marcella's spirit where it gnawed at her own ego and chewed into its foundations while she plowed ahead, searching through a broken, suicidal mans life for the answers she sought...
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 

Marc exhaled as she forced her mind forward once again, screaming through the ley-lines of the warp to smother Drimmles consciousness and suppress it, the man spasms, writhing but then going still before her, eyes closing over, chest rising and falling.

  "********..."   the psyker hissed under her breath, asking Arl to help her get him back into the chair.

Once he was seated again, Marc moved her hand forward and flattened it over the nobles forehead and closed her eyes, her own psyche phasing through the physical connection, crossing the distance between minds and penetrating the barriers that separated them. The world around her blackened into a rapid tunnel through which her own consciousness poured before emerging into the shattered mental landscape of Drimmle's state of mind. His paranoia, his anxiety and his now terminal desire to escape the reality of his life all oozed back into Marcella's spirit where it gnawed at her own ego and chewed into its foundations while she plowed ahead, searching through a broken, suicidal mans life for the answers she sought... 
 

Arl carefully assisted Marc over to one of the library's overstuffed chairs, a look of concern on this usually placid face.  Once she was seated, he hurried over to the sideboard and poured two fingers worth of amsec and brought to Marc, setting it on the table next to her chair.
rax
Setting himself up in the security room, Hound first checks what the pict recorders inside and outside the house show. Next, he checks to see if any alarms or security measures inside the building have been set off.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Not sure if any of this requires pass codes to do. I assume that what the cameras can see is at least immediately visible on monitors.

If pass codes are needed, I recall that we made Drimmle write all his codes down on our previous visit, so Hound would begin by trying the appropriate ones. As soon as he can tell that they're not being accepted, he'll try to break into the system using Tech Use, boosted by Foresight (+10).

Tech Use test  (1d100)[ 12 ]  vs. 70 (Int 60, Foresight +10)

FP re-roll if needed  (1d100)[ 34 ] 
 
Bennosuke
Remembering last time, Hound is able to access the security system without significant difficulty. Along with a larger and more modern computer set up in the room, once in, it appears that the number of security cameras, back ups, and encryptions are significantly updated. Still Hound has his way with the system.

It appears that the security cameras have picked up everything from the group's entrance, to the entirety of combat, to the aftermath; and all from multiple angles. There is the blip in recording, when Marcella jammed all electronics, but it looks like the cameras all came back online without more than a quick interruption. The footage has been backed up on the computer that Hound is using, but it also appears an additional backup has been sent to some offsite server. Hound's successes in navigating the computer reveals that the backup copy has been kept by The Star Force, though Hound doesn't know if anyone is watching the footage, or if it's just a backup file.

His significant success gives him an additional +20 to any further interaction with the system.

**************************************************  ********

Before Marcella stumbles away she is able to gather a significant amount of information from Ser Drimmle's addled mind.


 1) Are the documents Drimmle just handed over legitimate, are there any omissions (and what are they) and are there any falsehoods (and what are they)? 

Marcella can tell that the documents were prepared well in advance of the 12 hours she can see back through. However, from his feelings about the documents, to the best of Marcella's perception, they were prepared in earnest and she can feel how ser Drimmle had hoped to comply with the group's demands, while further finding a way to sever their continued leaning on him. She sees how hopelessly Drimmle viewed the situation and had some misguided hope that somehow after he had done everything requested, maybe he could escape his situation.


 2) What is his current relationship with Druchiss, does Durchiss suspect him, has he avoided suspicion etc? 

Marcella can feel Drimmle's unease about Lord Durchess discovering what is happening, but can't see back far enough to witness any interactions between the two. She can find no memories or emotions revolving around Ser Drimmle being caught or suspected.


 3) How many Star Guards are there exactly and what security protocols are there in place? Eg, if he texts or calls them and says a certain phrase, what's code for "I'm in trouble, come now" or "all clear" etc and what's the "phone number" to their leader that the group can use to send this all clear signal to them? 

In the last 12 hours, it appears Ser Drimmle has only been aware of the guards that the group has so far interacted with. He had instructed the disguised guards that the group had run into to check in with him every hour, and rush back to his Manse if he did not respond. He should have a short range comm on his person.


 4) What's his relationship with Trask and Shriek? They're mutants; where did they come from, how did he get access to them? 

Ser Drimmle has done his best to avoid interacting with Trask and Shriek, feeling greatly uncomfortable being around them. Trask was apparently a Guardsman before joining the Star Guard, but Drimmle things Shriek is void born of some sort. He notes that the two were very close, seeming to almost be able to communicate with their eyes, but knows no more than this.


 5) Where did the anti-psyker necklace come from or who gave it to him? 

Ser Drimmle payed top dollar on the black market, but the purchase occurred too far back to pull any names or locations.


 6) What does he know about the sudden Tora/Sabbay alliance that's blinded the Raptore in the underhive? Was there another Credit Guilder team sent down? 

He knows nothing about this.


 7) What are the codes to places in his home like his security doors, computer passwords, safe codes etc and are there any hidden stashes about his house? 

Marcella has every security override needed.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl carefully assisted Marc over to one of the library's overstuffed chairs, a look of concern on this usually placid face.  Once she was seated, he hurried over to the sideboard and poured two fingers worth of amsec and brought to Marc, setting it on the table next to her chair. 
 


Marcella was breathing deeply, asserting control over herself but visibly shaken. Swallowing, her eyes pressed shut, drawing her shoulders together, she 'shook' herself gently and opened her eyes, only to be greeted with the expensive liquor poured into a little glass next to her.

The psyker couldn't help but smile, a soft little sigh of amusement escaping her lips as she did so.

 "Thank you, but some water please,"  she said up to Arl, maintaining that gentle demeanour of hers as she inhaled and steadied her mind, standing herself back up and turning back to Drimmle, before placing her hand back against his head and diving back in.




 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Marcella can tell that the documents were prepared well in advance of the 12 hours she can see back through. However, from his feelings about the documents, to the best of Marcella's perception, they were prepared in earnest and she can feel how ser Drimmle had hoped to comply with the group's demands, while further finding a way to sever their continued leaning on him. She sees how hopelessly Drimmle viewed the situation and had some misguided hope that somehow after he had done everything requested, maybe he could escape his situation.

Marcella can feel Drimmle's unease about Lord Durchess discovering what is happening, but can't see back far enough to witness any interactions between the two. She can find no memories or emotions revolving around Ser Drimmle being caught or suspected.

In the last 12 hours, it appears Ser Drimmle has only been aware of the guards that the group has so far interacted with. He had instructed the disguised guards that the group had run into to check in with him every hour, and rush back to his Manse if he did not respond. He should have a short range comm on his person.

Ser Drimmle has done his best to avoid interacting with Trask and Shriek, feeling greatly uncomfortable being around them. Trask was apparently a Guardsman before joining the Star Guard, but Drimmle things Shriek is void born of some sort. He notes that the two were very close, seeming to almost be able to communicate with their eyes, but knows no more than this.

Ser Drimmle payed top dollar on the black market, but the purchase occurred too far back to pull any names or locations.

He knows nothing about this.

Marcella has every security override needed. 
 


The lingering, mental madness chewed away at the peripheries of Macella's psyche as she plumbed the available corridors of Drimmle's mind, the dark and twsited labyrinth through which she moved to discover all that she could that would help fascilitate this investigation and, Emperor willing, spare the denizens of the hive the woeful fate that awaited them if they should fail. It was evident that Drimmle was becoming a disturbed man, his lack of sleep fracturing the acuity of his faculties and allowing suicidal ideation and other black thoughts to seep through the cracks. This made clear-thinking and rational avenues a thorn-laden path to follow. Thankfully, however, she could see that he had tried in earnest to uphold his end of the bargain. When he had first uttered that little prayer,  'Emperor protect me...'  after learning of the groups true identity, it had come from a place of sincerity: he was not a heretic, nor was he a  willing  or witting traitor to the Imperium. That helped his chances enormously.

Marcella returned to the material world with a gasp, her eyes widening as tendrils of Drimmle's growing madness had slithered into the back of her skull and wormed through her brain. She stood there panting, chest heaving up and down as sweat coalesced across her skin, as some of her yellowed hair even clasped to her scalp.

Swallowing hard once, bringing her breathing under control and shaking her head, Marcella uttered some things under her breath in her native ship dialect, drawing a gloved hand up to her forehead as if to massage her inner connection to the warp.

 "Drimmle is sincere..."  she said out loud to no-one in particular, though Arl was the most likely to have heard it.

Turning and facing the man, Marcella then rummaged through his pockets for that comm device that connected him with the Star Force guards. Once she located it, she would send the 'check in' signal to them.

 "He's also worried about Durchiss discovering his actions, which means he has remained quiet and loyal; he had hoped to do as we ask then return to a quiet life, never to involve himself in this sort of affair again." 
Wyndeward
Arl smiled and went back to the bar, filling a tall glass with ice and water and hurried back to Marcella's side, handing her glass directly.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella offered a relieved and thankful smile when Arl brought over the iced water, reaching up to receive it with a soft  "thank you!" 

Bringing it to her lips and guzzling it down, the Psyker exhaled and swallowed, trying to reset her brain or bring her palpitations down to a better level as she could still feel her pulse slamming in the back of her head.

Exhaling, inhaling and bringing her breathing under control, Marcella blinked and let the dull ache in her brain slowly drain down her neck and away from her mind.

Checking the small coms from which she had sent a 'text' to the Star Force to see if they had replied, Marc got her own comms out and opened a channel to  Hound .

  "Drimmle is sinscere,"   she started.

  "As far as I can tell the documents are legitimate. He is in fear of Durchiss discovering his actions, so that means he hasn't betrayed us to him either. His hired security check in with him every hour and return here if he doesn't respond. I sent them a message through his comms, but we don't know yet if they'll buy that. The two mutants were with Star Force, they weren't his idea."  
rax
 "That is good to know,"  Hound replies.  "However, it still doesn't reduce the risk of blowing our cover if Drimmle comes under suspicion from Durchess or his superiors in the guild. Before we leave, I believe we should read through the documents he has assembled and question him further in case there is need of clarifications." 
 "All of our activities here have been recorded and a copy of the pict captures has been sent off site to the Star Guard. It is impossible to tell whether the footage has been reviewed already or whether it is simply being stored as a backup. I can erase the pict captures stored locally, but we will need to devise a plan to recover the copy from the Star Guard." 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Listening through the comms, Marc nods at Hounds words.

 "We should convene. Drimmle will be conscious soon. That sounds like an issue we could ask our benefactor to pressure the Star Force to delete from their archives, lest they want their company going under for hiring mutants. If it was being actively watched, the guards would have returned by now, so I'm estimating it has not yet been observed." 

Marc then picked up Drimmle's small comm device and checked once again to see if his guards had responded affirmative to the check-in signal she had sent them a couple of minutes ago.
Bennosuke
Marcella can see that there have been several attempts to reach Drimmle's comm, which he has not "picked up".
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc looked at the comms device and bit her bottom lip. Swiveling her eyes over to Drimmle, she reached out to give him a gentle nudge with her left hand.

 "Hey...wake up..."  she spoke gently, hand on his shoulder, softly shaking him a little to try and stir him back to consciousness.

  When he wakes up...  
 
 Spoiler 
 "They need to hear that you're fine,"  she spoke to him, her voice remaining soft as she held the coms up.

 "We're going to be gone soon, and you can go about your day. If they arrive here there'll be a fire-fight, and that benefits no one. It is much easier to tell them you're fine. I could reach into your mind and force you to do it, but neither one of us wants that, so make it easier for all of us, please." 

She held the comms device up, but did not activate it, instead intending to leave it on speaker so that she could hear what was said.


OOC:
_________

Holding her action to Compel/Mind Control Drimmle if he tries to yell a warning or something.
 
Bennosuke
 "They need to hear that you're fine," she spoke to him, her voice remaining soft as she held the coms up.

"We're going to be gone soon, and you can go about your day. If they arrive here there'll be a fire-fight, and that benefits no one. It is much easier to tell them you're fine. I could reach into your mind and force you to do it, but neither one of us wants that, so make it easier for all of us, please."

She held the comms device up, but did not activate it, instead intending to leave it on speaker so that she could hear what was said.


OOC:
_________

Holding her action to Compel/Mind Control Drimmle if he tries to yell a warning or something. 

Ser Drimmle moans as he is prodded by the psyker. It takes several seconds before the man's eyes slowly flutter open, so that he can stare dumbly at Marcella. " What, " he asks reflexively, his cold blue eyes slowly coming into focus. Ser Drimmle slowly comes to as Marcella continues to speak to him. When she mentions reaching into his mind to coerce him, the man's brow knits together, his thin lips pursing. " Leave me alone to go about my day? " he spits, the nostrils on his aquiline nose flaring, " and why should I believe that? If I'm to die either way, maybe I should just warn them first. " The color begins to flow back into the man's cheeks, his face almost turning red as he stares with venom up at Marcella.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "We're not going to kill you..."  Marcella returned, her tone like that of an amused mother listening to a child who scraped their shin and now believes they'll have to get their leg amputated.

 "Was it on the cards when we came here? Yes,"  she continued, offering a token of truth.

 "After recent events in the Underhive we thought you had betrayed us. But, after...taking a peek, so to speak,"  the Psyker said, tapping her temple with her index and middle finger,  "as odious and frightening as you find me, I can testify that you are sincere. You've gathered incriminating documents. You have hidden your intentions from Lord Durchiss. You hope to return to a normal life once this is all over. You're on the right path, Ser Drimmle, and in years to come you're going to look back on this episode as an unpleasant necessity.

And as for Lord Durchiss himself, well...our superiors are going to handle him. The wheels are in motion and no one is beyond the reach of the Inquisition." 

Marcella allowed a pregnant pause to linger before holding the comms device forward once more, its instruments set to Speaker so she could hear everything that would be said.

 "The hard part is over; send them away, we'll go through the documents and then we'll leave, and you can get back to whatever it was you were doing. Besides, would I patch you up,"  she pointed to his right arm, where the bullet wound had largely closed up and the lead expelled from within,  "if we were going to kill you?" 
Bennosuke
 "We're not going to kill you..." Marcella returned, her tone like that of an amused mother listening to a child who scraped their shin and now believes they'll have to get their leg amputated.

"Was it on the cards when we came here? Yes," she continued, offering a token of truth.

"After recent events in the Underhive we thought you had betrayed us. But, after...taking a peek, so to speak," the Psyker said, tapping her temple with her index and middle finger, "as odious and frightening as you find me, I can testify that you are sincere. You've gathered incriminating documents. You have hidden your intentions from Lord Durchiss. You hope to return to a normal life once this is all over. You're on the right path, Ser Drimmle, and in years to come you're going to look back on this episode as an unpleasant necessity. 

Ser Drimmle listens with stark confusion written across his face. But when Marcella mentions being in his mind, he raises a shaking hand to his head. " You were in my thoughts, " he mumbles, half question half statement. He grimaces with pain, maybe not even registering Marcella's comment about Durchess. But when Marcella hands Ser Drimmle the comm on speaker, his expression changes to a scowl and he says under his breath, " Fine. "

The comm beeps and a man's voice on the other ends says with concern, " Boss, everything okay? We've heard there were the sound of explosions coming from your property. We are on our way now. "

Ser Drimmle sighs, before speaking into the microphone, his voice quavering. " I'm okay, " he says, his voice rising in pitch and sudden urgency, " don't come. Everything is okay! "

There is a pause on the other end before the voice replies flatly, " ... We are on our way. " The line cuts out, and Ser Drimmle looks up at Marcella, frustration cut into the lines of his face.

(OOC: Drimmle did not do well on his deceive roll... see OOC thread)
Haval
Orla has been continuing to watch the front of the house although she has taken the time to smoke a full lho stick while she waits.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc watched the exchange impassively. If she was annoyed, she didn't show it. Besides, from her trip through Drimmle's mind, she knew what his code-word for 'come and help me' would've been. This was simply a case of security believing their employer was under duress.

Retrieving the comms from Drimmle and pocketing it, Marc reached up to her own ear and activated hers, putting her through to  Hound  while she looked over at Arl.

 "Drimmles security team believe he's under duress. Drimmle is being cooperative, but they have ignored him and they are on their way..."  she said quietly and matter-of-factly.

 "The last thing we need is more corpses; I might be able to put them all under, but the risk is always there. Should we leave or take up positions?"  she asked, her eyes still on Arl as if asking both him and Hound at the same time.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 


Marc watched the exchange impassively. If she was annoyed, she didn't show it. Besides, from her trip through Drimmle's mind, she knew what his code-word for 'come and help me' would've been. This was simply a case of security believing their employer was under duress.

Retrieving the comms from Drimmle and pocketing it, Marc reached up to her own ear and activated hers, putting her through to  Hound  while she looked over at Arl.

 "Drimmles security team believe he's under duress. Drimmle is being cooperative, but they have ignored him and they are on their way..."  she said quietly and matter-of-factly.

 "The last thing we need is more corpses; I might be able to put them all under, but the risk is always there. Should we leave or take up positions?"  she asked, her eyes still on Arl as if asking both him and Hound at the same time. 
 

Arl looked about he place, then looked over at Milo.

" Well, this is another fine mess you've gotten me into... " as he reloaded his stub automatic and moved to a position behind the door where the guards would most likely enter from.
rax
 "I'm on my way,"  Hound responds. Arriving in the foyer, he gives Drimmle a withering look before he speaks.

 "Sir Drimmle, when the Star Guard arrives, you and I will meet them outside on the steps. You will inform them that their services are no longer required, but they will be paid in full for whatever period remains of their contract. They are to leave your premises immediately and you will also require the return or verifiable destruction of today's pict recordings." 
 "My colleagues will be watching from inside and will open fire if they fail to heed your words. If that happens, it is highly likely that we will both be killed in the crossfire, so I advise you to exert the full weight of your station to impress upon your hirelings that your decision is final and not open to question or negotiation. Is that clear?"  he demands of the old patrician.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella nodded as Hound's acknowledgement came through her coms.

 "Alright, let's gets moving then..."  she said to Drimmle, assisting him out of his chair if he needed it.

 "Go and bar the security door in the security room,"  she also said to Milo, turning to address him.  "Use the desk, a chair etc then go and cover the balcony entrance, the one we almost used last time,"  she said.

When she had brought Drimmle to Hound, Marcella would retrieve her gun from Orla and sling it over her shoulder. However, she approached Hound with a thought.

 "Sir, I was thinking, instead of going outside to meet them where you're vulnerable, what about..." 

The Psychic then gave her description for where she thought might be most apt to receive the incoming guards in a way that they were in a position of extreme deterrence.


OOC:
See OOC picture for what she suggests.
Haval
Orla will assent to being directed in this case as she'll go retrieve the heavy stubber.  'You can't deny the firepower but if I actually need to shoot this thing you all ought to prepared to run. I can see someone sending the PDF in to see what's going on.'  
Bennosuke
 "Sir Drimmle, when the Star Guard arrives, you and I will meet them outside on the steps. You will inform them that their services are no longer required, but they will be paid in full for whatever period remains of their contract. They are to leave your premises immediately and you will also require the return or verifiable destruction of today's pict recordings." 

Ser Drimmle gives Hound a harsh glare, but after a long exhale says, " Fine, " in a sharp clipped syllable.


 "Go and bar the security door in the security room," she also said to Milo, turning to address him. "Use the desk, a chair etc then go and cover the balcony entrance, the one we almost used last time," she said 

Milo rushes off dutifully, one hand rubbing his temple.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Sir, I was thinking, instead of going outside to meet them where you're vulnerable, what about..." 

The Psychic then gave her description for where she thought might be most apt to receive the incoming guards in a way that they were in a position of extreme deterrence. 
 

  "Yes, your suggestion is better from the perspective of gaining the upper hand, but it will also immediately prove to the Star Guard Force that Sir Drimmle is acting under duress. That may drive them to ignore his commands, no matter what." 
 "It will also expose more of us to the Star Guard, increasing the chances of identification and therefore increasing the chances of someone speaking out of turn at a later date, even if they agree to the settlement Sir Drimmle will be proposing on our behalf." 
 "However, I calculate that the moment of greatest danger will be when they demand to know the whereabouts of their mutant compatriots. There is likely no plausible lie we can tell to cover up the fact that they are dead. If, at that moment, their sense of camraderie is stronger than their desire for a payout, there is a strong likelihood of combat being initiated. Your suggestion would put us in a superior position and could give them pause enough to reconsider." 
 "Very well, we will try things your way, Acolyte M." 
Bennosuke
The acolytes take position after the group has helped Orla set up the heavy stubber. Time crawls at a near unbearable pace as seconds take months and minutes take eternities. Still, soon enough, the Star Guard arrive. First, they can be seen striding past the gates, glimpses of them visible between the slats. Then they are marching up the walkway, though now there are only three. The man in the crimson cloak is nowhere to be seen, possibly because he was too wounded from taking bullets to the face and leg in their last encounter. The group was leg by the Ex- Guardsman, followed by Serellia and the older woman. The moment the three round the corner, their weapons are out, eyes darting side to side ready for combat.

(OOC: First off, let me say so sorry for the delay in my reply. Suffice to say this has been a rough week for me. Second, I am operating under the assumption that the entire group is not trying to remain under cover. If so, I will need some "stealth" rolls from everyone. If not, I can proceed)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella inhaled softly and then exhaled, as she uttered a small prayer to the Emperor that the Star Guards would show reason. The Psyker was tucked away around a corner, up on the second floor, her right ear to receive the sounds coming from the foyer and the ensuing confrontation. Still feeling the dull aching from her chest where two las-bolts had caught her earlier, Marcella waited patiently, seemingly staring at the opulent wall several feet away from her, as she waited until the signs of their entrance were audible.

Then, she'd close her eyes and extended her mind over the local area, inhaling just a snapshot of locations of the incoming Star Guards. However, where normally there'd be a web to cast her consciousness across, this time she felt like her mind was stuffed into the dark, unable to perceive merely a few feet ahead of her. Inhaling and opening her eyes, ending the session immediately, the Psyker swallowed, shook her head, and breathed deep to recompose herself.
rax
Up on the landing, Hound waited patiently with Sir Drimmle. He held his silenced pistol in his hand, pressed against his leg so that it wouldn't be immediately visible from below.

 "Remember Sir Drimmle, it's up to you to prevent more bloodshed,"  he reminded the Credit Guilder.
Bennosuke
Surveying the scene, with Ser Drimmle surrounded by the intruders, the trio stop about halfway up the walkway. The elder woman steps forward, coming to the shoulder of the towering guardsman, a frown spread across her wrinkled face. Even from outside you can hear her say, " I see we have come too late, " her voice high and sharp.

" Do you think it's a trap, " the man replies.

But you can't hear the woman's response. Then moments later she calls out, " Ser Drimmle? Ser, if you are safe, why don't you come outside! "

Inside, Ser Drimmle turns to Hound, whom he gives a shrug that says, "what do you want me to do?"
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Hearing those voices now, Marc closed her eyes, inhaled and brought her thoughts under control. Concentrating her psyche, she pushed it out across the web of the local warp in search of any other sentient mind in range...
rax
 "Tell her that they are indeed too late, but that matters have been resolved and you are well. She may come in or stay outside, it makes no difference to you. In either case, you are terminating your contract with them,"  Hound whispered to Drimmle.

 "Depending on her response, you will voluntarily add the conditions we spoke of earlier to the terms of their severance." 
Bennosuke
Marcella extends out her consciousness, casting a gaze that allows her to see a network of moving souls all around her. She senses no one else in the mansion, and feels the burning minds of her companions around her. She senses the anger and the fear of the three standing before them in the yard. The old woman in particular has a powerful mind, but none of the three before her have true Psyker level strength.

Beyond this, she senses the web of pedestrians moving to and fro in the streets surrounding the compound, those farthest away almost out of focus as they exist in the periphery of Marcella's extended consciousness.

Nearby, Ser Drimmle gives Hound one more shrug, before stepping forward towards the balcony railing. " I... I am alright, " he starts, his voice cracking immediately, " Everything is... is resolved. I am... I am actually done with your services now. Your contract is severed, you can go. "

The powerfully built Ex-Guardsman snickers at this. He takes another step towards the entrance but stops to say, " Well then I suppose you will have to pay us the rest of what we are owed. Why don't you... and your new friends come out here with our payment then! "

Ser Drimmle's face goes white and he again turns to Hound, as if he were a teenage boy looking for help speaking to the girl next door.
Haval
Orla is slumped against her borrowed gun while she facepalms.  'Maybe we should have cleaned up a bit before they got here'  she mutters.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella opened her eyes and exhaled, the warp rescinding from her attention. Swallowing and breathing, Marcella drew her comms in her sleeve to her mouth to speak into it quietly.

  "The three at the front door are the only three present; I can't sense any of the others,"   she said, her soft voice coming in through the comms of everyone else.
rax
 "Are you sure you work for the Credit Guild? I had supposed that bargaining would be your forte,"  Hound shot back at Drimmle.

Taking a deep breath, he calls out to the Star Guard members outside.  "Sir Drimmle is under our protection now! Your services are no longer needed, but he will pay you what you are owed for the remainder of your contract period. You are welcome to come inside to settle accounts if you wish and no harm will come to you, or you can return to your offices and await the forwarding of your severance pay. The choice on how to proceed is yours, but the decision has already been made." 
Bennosuke
Ser Drimmle's face is without color, his eyes wide and almost all pupil. But still he manages to hiss back at Hound, " Well these aren't exactly the sorts of situations I am used to. Not really part of the training handbook now is it? "

Hound's reply is met with silence for a long moment. Then the sound of footsteps coming up the stone stairs begins echoing into the landing, growing slowly louder. The shadows of the three Star Guard precede their entrance, long slender black figures that shudder in the artificial lights above. The three enter calmly, but with their weapons readied. The Ex-Guardsman holds a las pistol in each hand, the elder woman has somehow managed to procure a plasma pistol. Serellia in the back however is unarmed, except for a handheld vox device. The man is the first to speak, " I like what you've done with the place, " he says, glancing at the damage to the landing and the stains of blood across the floor. He looks up and confirms the bomb is still hanging over their head and scowls.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ser Drimmle's face is without color, his eyes wide and almost all pupil. But still he manages to hiss back at Hound, " Well these aren't exactly the sorts of situations I am used to. Not really part of the training handbook now is it? "

Hound's reply is met with silence for a long moment. Then the sound of footsteps coming up the stone stairs begins echoing into the landing, growing slowly louder. The shadows of the three Star Guard precede their entrance, long slender black figures that shudder in the artificial lights above. The three enter calmly, but with their weapons readied. The Ex-Guardsman holds a las pistol in each hand, the elder woman has somehow managed to procure a plasma pistol. Serellia in the back however is unarmed, except for a handheld vox device. The man is the first to speak, " I like what you've done with the place, " he says, glancing at the damage to the landing and the stains of blood across the floor. He looks up and confirms the bomb is still hanging over their head and scowls. 
 

Arl made a show of lowering his stub automatic to his side and not holstering it, but holding it at his side, much in the fashion of the Star Guard associates.  With his free hand, he makes an "after you" gesture and then casually leans up against the door.

"  Redecorating is almost  always  a bit of chore.  "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella remained quiet for several long moments as she debated whether to reveal herself or not. Weighing the pros and cons, she settled on honesty being the best policy, as her absence would likely cause suspicion within the guard trio, given how...'close' she had gotten to Serellia last time.

Moving out onto the upper walk way, Marcs shorter, blonde headed figure emerged into view, peering down at the trio who were under what they believed to be an armed explosive. Seeing Serellia brandishing a radio, Marc deducted that the other Star Guard members were within radio distance, and they'd come running if assistance was needed.
Haval
Orla had given up trying to hide while holding a very large gun and will hold it loosely in the general direction  of the three strangers.  'Alright. Who are you who cares so much about this one? Maybe we should introduce ourselves so we can avoid any misunderstandings.'  If she had her way the three would never have known she was here and the thought made her grumpy.
Bennosuke
The three scowl as the acolytes appear gathered around them on the balconies above, but make no effort to raise their weapons nor flee. The Ex-Guardsman scowls at Orla and her question and spits back, " I could ask you the same question. If you haven't figured it out, he's our employer, who owes us a bit of money. So I'd prefer he's at least allowed to go get his purse. "
rax
 "Names will not be necessary. If you remain calm and refrain from violence, you will indeed be paid in full and none of us will ever meet again. Sir Drimmle, in what manner did you agree to pay the Star Guard Force? I suspect it wasn't from spare coin in your purse?"  Hound interjects.
Bennosuke
Ser Drimmle's face still pale, expression soured, replies, " Via credit slate. I owe them each a thousand thrones... little good they've done me. " He scowls, turning his dark expression from Hound to the Star Guard below, and back to Hound again. Something like an idea flickers across the man's face for just an instant.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The three scowl as the acolytes appear gathered around them on the balconies above, but make no effort to raise their weapons nor flee. The Ex-Guardsman scowls at Orla and her question and spits back, " I could ask you the same question. If you haven't figured it out, he's our employer, who owes us a bit of money. So I'd prefer he's at least allowed to go get his purse. " 
 

Orla grins at the Guardman over the stubber.  'Not one for first names are you? Fair enough. As someone who works for a living I'm all for you getting paid.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc remained on the upper walkway, peering down and blending into the background as she did so. She watched with a fascinated curiosity as to the back-and-forth banter, particularly when Orla got involved, wondering if this how 'fighty people' spoke to each other.
Bennosuke
The three at the bottom of the stairs seem nonplussed by Orla's show of comradery, instead the ex-guardsman leads the other two several steps forward towards the stairs closest to Ser Drimmle. He will stop at the bottom of the stairwell, unless he is threatened to stop before making it that far.

At the top, Ser Drimmle's face regains a little bit of color. He watches the three approach, and when they stop, turns to Hound and hisses, " Well, what is your plan? "
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 At the top, Ser Drimmle's face regains a little bit of color. He watches the three approach, and when they stop, turns to Hound and hisses,  "Well, what is your plan?"  
 

 Hound registers Drimmle's shifting expression impassively before responding.  "Transfer the Thrones to this data slate and I will pass them on to your retainers,"  he says, producing his own empty data slate and holding it out to Drimmle.  "Then you may make out whatever receipt is necessary to complete the transfer." 
 "Once your pay has been transferred, Sir Drimmle will also require the return of all the security footage which has been copied to your cogitators since the begining of your service,"  Hound addresses the guardsman.  "You will further undertake to make no mention of myself or my colleagues to anyone, nor will you for any reason make inquiries about us. In return, Sir Drimmle will provide you with excellent recommendations for the services you have rendered, thereby ensuring that you leave his service with a spotless record. If you have any objections to this deal, I suggest you make them known now." 
Bennosuke
 Hound registers Drimmle's shifting expression impassively before responding. "Transfer the Thrones to this data slate and I will pass them on to your retainers," he says, producing his own empty data slate and holding it out to Drimmle. "Then you may make out whatever receipt is necessary to complete the transfer." 

Ser Drimmle scoffs at this, saying loud enough for the group at the bottom of the stairs to hear, " Pay them? If they had succeeded I wouldn't be standing here with a gun to my head. "

At the bottom of the stairs the Ex-Guardsman yells, " A deal's a deal. We did our best to hold up our end of the bargain! "

" The DEAL was that I payed you to keep ME safe! " Ser Drimmle shrieks, taking a step away from Hound to stand at the end of the balcony and rest both hands over the railing so that he can more easily call down to the Star Guard.

The Ex-Guardsman raises one of his pistol in anger, pointing it at Ser Drimmle and shouts, " You bloody cheat! "

Ignoring the threat, Ser Drimmle turns to Hound and with a vicious grin says, " I refuse. " His gaze turns to Marcella, the grin spreading though his eyes are filled with darkness. He adds to Hound, " What are you going to do? Shoot me? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella wanted to facepalm as Drimmle disgorged his outburst, his penny-pinching ways over-ruling his common sense that the  less commotion they made right now  the smoother everything would go. It infuriated the psyker, as the minor noble had the ability to swing between a figure of pity and sympathy, to that of an arrogant ******** that threw away every opportunity handed to him to make things right. Maybe she was too soft. Maybe she should have just let Arl shoot him in the head and make this whole thing look like a break-in or suicide. The guy had had more than enough chances afterall, however 'in motion' the groups actions may have set him.

The psyker mentally started to clear her head and draw in her focus and concentration, while mumbling softly under her breath. Even though no one was close enough to hear what she was saying, it wouldn't help them understand as she was uttering rote scriptures to help centre her psyche, as she looked beyond Drimmle and to Hound, to observe what his reaction, and direction, was going to be.
rax
 "Yes,"  Hound answers Drimmle and promptly shoots him in his left foot.


 @Bennosuke 
You want a roll for that, or can we handle this cinematically? Hound's lost his patience, but he is going to give Drimmle one more chance to stop playing silly buggers so everyone can go home and leave this whole unedifying mess behind us.
Haval
Orla will sigh internally and keep watching the three mercenaries.
Bennosuke
The report of Hound's weapon thunders in the entranceway, drowning out everything, including the sudden sound of Ser Drimmle's scream. His knees collapse and almost goes over the banister. The three at the entrance all raise their weapons at the sudden weapon's fire, but fortunately no one else starts shooting. Collapsed to the ground, Ser Drimmle writhes around on the ground moaning and clutching his ruined foot. Blood gushes in a puddle out of both sides of the man's leather boot, puddling on the marble floor under him, beginning to stain the bottom of his robe.

From below, the Ex-Guardsman calls, " Don't you bloody kill him! Not until we're payed! " His face is a mask of frustration as he takes several impulsive steps up the stairs. The others follow.

On the floor at Hound's feet Ser Drimmle finally starts to compose himself. " You bastard, " he hisses, but the pride and venom are sapped from his voice. He stammers, " How am I even going to get down the stairs to provide a parchment verification of transfer? "
Wyndeward
Arl permits himself a small smirk and shakes his head.

" A body didn't have to have a spyglass to see that coming... "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

It almost shocked the Psyker how used to witnessing violence she had become. When Drimmle made his sadly predictable self-centred gambit again, despite everything riding on a smooth transition, the psyker had been preparing herself to reach into his mind and force compliance. However, Hound had opted for a more direct route, one that left the arrogant noble wheezing and wailing on the floor, clutching his foot where a 9mm bullet had just penetrated through. Not even visibly phased as she watched the scene unfold, Marc just cooly estimated that, assuming no bones were broken and it was only soft tissue damage, Drimmle should be fine in two to three months.

Marcella  could  significantly reduce that time to just a week if she used her psychic powers, but she was starting to think that Drimmle had had enough breaks. Perhaps hobbling about with walking assistance and being bed-ridden for a while would do his ego good. The painkillers would also likely help him sleep.

Exhaling through her nose and shaking her head while wearing her impassive look, clearly irritated with Drimmle, Marc moved forward and approach Hound and the noble, before kneeling down next to the banker and inspecting his foot. Holding a gloved hand out for Hound to pass her a bandage, Marc would begin wrapping it firmly around the wounded appendage.

 "I told you that cooperation would make this easier, Ser Drimmle,"  Marc's soft voice could be heard.

 "This will apply a pressure and the material is highly absorbent, it will stem the bleeding and allow coagulation to take over. You're looking at two months or so off this foot. That means lots of bed-rest. You stepped on a nail. You dropped a sharp gardening instrument on your foot. There are lots of excuses to explain this wound,"  Marc spoke, emphasising her final point with a nod of her head, her tone and mannerisms almost like she was a nurse tending to a patient rather than someone who'd just witnessed something shocking and bloody.


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 On the floor at Hound's feet Ser Drimmle finally starts to compose himself. " You bastard, " he hisses, but the pride and venom are sapped from his voice. He stammers, " How am I even going to get down the stairs to provide a parchment verification of transfer? " 
 

 "Sign it and I'll take it down if you want." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 From below, the Ex-Guardsman calls, " Don't you bloody kill him! Not until we're payed! " His face is a mask of frustration as he takes several impulsive steps up the stairs. The others follow.  
 

  'Hey.'   Orla snaps towards the Guardsman.  'Settle down. If he wanted to kill him he would have shot him in the head. Now relax.'  The stubber is pointed directly towards the man.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Charm for the hell of it
vs. Fel 41
 (1d100)[ 14 ] 
 
rax
Hound holds up his silenced pistol and glares at it in disappointment.  "Worst. Silencer. Ever,"  he mutters.

 "Shut up, Drimmle. Any more foolishness from you, and I'm shooting your other foot. Keep going after that, and I'll take a hand, then your legs, and your arms. All I really need from you is your mouth and what passes for your mind, and I assure you, we're quite capable of seeing that you survive long enough to talk  without  any of your limbs,"  he continues while passing a bandage to Marc.

 "Now, we will continue the process of paying your retainers for their services, yes?" 
Bennosuke
Ser Drimmle watches as Marcella bends down and begins tending to his wounded foot, initially grimacing at the pressure. He waits till she finishes speaking, the look of pain turning to one of anger. In a low whisper he replies, " You read my thoughts witch. You know I wish to return to The Emperor. Why won't you just let me die! " He raises a bony hand to grab hold of the lapel of her robes, his grasp tightening till the knuckles turn white.

When she puts the paper in front of him, he says, " Only if you promise to kill me after. "


 'Hey.' Orla snaps towards the Guardsman. 'Settle down. If he wanted to kill him he would have shot him in the head. Now relax.' The stubber is pointed directly towards the man. 

The guardsman stops, raising his weapons slightly though not truly in a way that would make them useless. Still this far up the stairs, it would be impossible to turn the heavy stubber around on him while remaining braced. " Alright, alright, " he says cooly, " no one is going anywhere. We're settled. "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

 Hound holds up his silenced pistol and glares at it in disappointment. "Worst. Silencer. Ever," he mutters. 

Lol, my bad 😛
 


 "Now, we will continue the process of paying your retainers for their services, yes?" 

Rather than reply to Hound, Ser Drimmle turns a dead serious glare to Marcella and whispers, " Well? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella stared back at Drimmle, unable to believe what he was asking of her. Being able to touch and 'experience' and feel the thoughts of others, suicidal ideation was like the darkness reaching out for you.  The action itself was...disturbing to her, to end ones life and cast themselves into the Warp beyond not only willingly, but in such a depressed state of mind.

 "Alright,"  the psyker spoke back, her voice soft.

 "But at the time of my choosing. If you go now, in your state of mind, it won't be the Emperor you return to. You will be easy prey for the things that lurk beyond death. If you believe me on anything, believe me on that." 

The implications of her words should spook even the bravest of men. Eternity was a long time to spend outside the light of the Emperor.

Her point hopefully made, Marc drew her right hand up and held it open, ready to receive the signed form so that she could take it down to the guardsman.
Bennosuke
Ser Drimmle's eyes go wide for just a moment at Marcella's words. But then every muscle in the man's face appears to clench, his lids closing to create a glare, his lips pulled back to reveal gritted teeth. " My life has already become a living hell, " he hisses, the malice in his eyes stoked now when he looks down at his foot for just a moment. Returning his gaze to Marcella's he adds, " Your lot have seen to that. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker maintained her expression, but couldn't help but sigh in resigntaion through her nose. You could bring a horse to water, but you couldn't make it drink.

 "Fine. Before we leave I will put you to sleep. It'll be your choice if you wake up or not." 

She then closed and opened the fingers of her waiting hand in a 'gimmie' gesture to the signed document.

Should Drimmle hand it over, Marc will move down the stairway towards the guardsman, holding her left hand up as if to halt him from advancing any further. Silently, she placed the signed document on the flat railing, before taking several steps back to allow the mercenary to retrieve and verify the form - in a way that did not put him within arms reach of her.

Looking over at Serellia, Marc pursed her lips.

 "Sorry about that whole..."  she tapped her temple, offering a half-apologetic shrug, before looking back at the guardsman.

 "We all good?" 
Bennosuke
Without a reply, Ser Drimmle lets go of Marcella's lapel and rips the document out of her hand. He reaches into his pocket with a wince to withdraw a small but ornate pen which he uses to sign the scroll. " I'll still need to provide an official seal and make the electronic transfer, " he says gruffly.

When Marcella departs to retrieve the necessary items downstairs the three Star Guard part out of her way. Serellia stares at her coldly and replies, " What? Like it is just business? " She scowls at Marcella, crossing her arms over her chest.

But the older woman grabs the sleeve of Marcella's robe and says, " I believe one of your friends took something that belongs to me. I would like it returned to me before we  wash our hands  of today. " She is of course referring to the shock maul that Father Milo had taken.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Uneasy about having to go down the full flight of stairs to a room on the first floor, but trusting her other acolytes to have her back, Marc descended the flight of stairs and peered at the three.


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 When Marcella departs to retrieve the necessary items downstairs the three Star Guard part out of her way. Serellia stares at her coldly and replies, "What? Like it is just business?" She scowls at Marcella, crossing her arms over her chest. 
 

The Psyker looked back at the woman and offered another half-shrug,  "Yeah..." , before her body was halted in its trajectory. The older woman, the clear leader of the trio and probably the whole troupe, reached out to hold marc by the sleeve and demand something from her.

Peering about, drawing her face around to stare at the older woman with a flat, unimpressed expression, Marcella fed a sliver of her mind through the channel she had established when she had scanned the area earlier.

  'Touch me again, and you will spend the rest of your life as a drooling imbecile...'   her mental voice forked into the back of the older womans head, as Marc yanked her arm free, her eyes peering at the Star Guard leader with an eerie, empty gaze that seemed to be considering something beyond flesh and tissue.

But, she did look up and over at  Arl  with a  'can you get it from Milo?'  look on her face, along with an accompanying shrug.

Turning around, Marc moved off into the room directed by Drimmle to retrieve his seal and electronic transfer. Once she had found them, she brought them back, ascended the stairs and returned them to the downed noble.

 "Here,"  she said simply, holding both out for him like a child who had dutifully retrieved an item at a parents request.
Bennosuke
The old woman makes no show of offense or surprise when Marcella wrenches her arm free, and says nothing in reply.  She keeps a steady glare on the psyker as she passes, her lips pulled thin in a scowl.

(OOC: Will let Arl and Milo play that one out I guess)

By the time Marcella returns with the necessary equipment, it is clear that the three Star Guard are very uncomfortable. All eyes follow the psyker back up the stairs to Ser Drimmle. When Marcella presses the requested items into his hands, Ser Drimmle accepts them. But before making any attempt to heat wax or perform his duty, Ser Drimmle says firmly, " You promise, " to Marcella. Then he deftly goes about completing the transaction. Placing the data slate on the floor, Ser Drimmle clutches the wax-sealed document with one hand, and the candle he had used to heat the wax with the other; the tip of the parchment dangerously close to the flickering red tongue of flame. To Marcella he repeats himself, " You promised. Now! Do it now, or I will burn this scroll. "

Halfway up the stairs, The Guardsman shouts, " Do it! Do whatever he asks! " The man is red in the face, tight muscles bulging in his massive neck.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella mostly ignored the Star Guard's dirty looks, giving them just side-eye treatment as she returned and ascended the stairs.

When Drimmle finally drew himself close to signing the document, he then made his ultimatum demand. Exhaling softly, pursing her lips,  "I promise that I will put you to sleep before we leave. If you want to wake up or not, will be up to you,"  she repeated, only now adding the crucial 'I promise' element.
Wyndeward
Arl leaned back against the wall, next to the door, staring at the bizarre tableau.

" You'd think he'd have learned by now. "
Haval
Orla will give Marcella a brief questioning look at her threat but is otherwise distracted. She certainly won't object.

She will grimace at the mention of the Shock Maul as it's not hard to anticipate where that's going.  'I take it something like that isn't the sort of thing you can just pick up for cheap from a local arms dealer?'  Perhaps she could suggest them some names.
bramblefoot
 

milo will consider for a second, eyeballing the star guards weapons and armor  this might be worth a pretty penny, but then again, i dont wanna end up in the boneyard 

he'll toss the shock staff over, and say not a word
Bennosuke
The Guardsman moves up the stairs to meet Milo and retrieve the shock maul. He gives the Father a hard glare but says nothing.
Haval
Orla will let out a careful breath as Milo handed over the maul. To Milo,  'You know, you can get most things if you know the right people. Assuming you have the thrones.' 
rax
Hound observes the scene in silence. The thought crosses his mind that he could just blow the deranged banker's brains out, but given the mess Drimmle has already made of the whole deal, he decides to let Marcella deal with the matter. Besides, if Drimmle does make good on his threat, he can always shoot him then.
bramblefoot
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla will let out a careful breath as Milo handed over the maul. To Milo,  'You know, you can get most things if you know the right people. Assuming you have the thrones.'  
 

 

milo stares icily at the guardsmans retreating back  "there are many ways to acquire things"  he says to orla  "one is to buy, the others are beg borrow, requisition or steal from corpses"  he cracks a small mirthless grin  "im not the spire brat i once was. ive learned how to do stuff that my younger self would gawk at" 
Bennosuke
 When Drimmle finally drew himself close to signing the document, he then made his ultimatum demand. Exhaling softly, pursing her lips, "I promise that I will put you to sleep before we leave. If you want to wake up or not, will be up to you," she repeated, only now adding the crucial 'I promise' element. 

Ser Drimmle's hands begin to tremble, causing the flaming tongue of the candle to waver dangerously close to the scroll. The sound of the man's teeth grinding echoes softly in the cavernous balcony. His cold eyes study Marcella's for along moment, and then with a deep exhale, Ser Drimmle drops the candle away, his neck collapsing to bow his head; chin touching chest. He pushes the scroll into Marcella's hands and says, " Just, when this is done, just kill me. " Anyone who gets down low enough to see up into Ser Drimmle's face can see the soft stream of tears creating a shine across his cheeks.

The Star Guard watch with curiosity, the guardsman seeming particularly tense over the whole affair. He marches to the top of the stairs, and with gun ready says, " Give it to me. Give me the scroll! "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The psyker watched with a not unsympathetic eye as Drimmle handed over the scroll, along with a re-iteration of his request that she terminate his life at the end of this deliberation.


 The Star Guard watch with curiosity, the guardsman seeming particularly tense over the whole affair. He marches to the top of the stairs, and with gun ready says,  "Give it to me. Give me the scroll!"  

Resisting the urge to snap at the man, Marc drew herself up to standing at her full, though shorter height, before turning to face the Star Guard and extending her gloved hand forward to offer the scroll. As she stood up, Marc visibly flinched slightly and inhaled through her teeth as a stinging pain jabbed across her chest from the two burned pock-marks where two las-pistol beams had struck her earlier, creased from her movement.

 "Now go. And a reminder that all recordings of this affair on your servers are to be wiped." 

Marc then moved her eyes down to look at the older woman below.

 "I'll know if you haven't..." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by bramblefoot 
 milo stares icily at the guardsmans retreating back  "there are many ways to acquire things"  he says to orla  "one is to buy, the others are beg borrow, requisition or steal from corpses"  he cracks a small mirthless grin  "im not the spire brat i once was. ive learned how to do stuff that my younger self would gawk at"  
 

Orla shrugged,  'I get it. But if you can find an easier way to get what you want.'  Orla pauses to think of something expensive,  'Whatever that stick costs it's not like it's a spaceship is it.' 
Bennosuke
The Ex-Guardsman snatches the scroll from Marcella's hand greedily, almost tearing the parchment in his haste. With his other hand, he still keeps one of his pistols raised. He starts backing up, to the top of the stairwell, and grins at Marcella's remark. " Sorry mam', but we never agreed to that, " he says with a chuckle, " and we couldn't even if we wanted to. Above my paygrade. " He makes sure to keep the the pistol drawn on Marcella, and standing where he is ahead of the rest of his group, it would be impossible to keep a weapon trained on him and the others. It would even be impossible to pivot the heavy bolter around without taking it off its brace, to bear on him. Still grinning he says, " And don't you go thinking about any of your witch powers. Look, I don't know who you all are, and I don't want to. If you want to access our database of security footage, you'll have to take it up our office. Ain't nothing we can help you with. "

Unless anyone stops them, the Star Guard will attempt to leave, keeping their weapons trained on the Acolytes as they back down the stairs and out of the building.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Ex-Guardsman snatches the scroll from Marcella's hand greedily, almost tearing the parchment in his haste. With his other hand, he still keeps one of his pistols raised. He starts backing up, to the top of the stairwell, and grins at Marcella's remark. " Sorry mam', but we never agreed to that, " he says with a chuckle, " and we couldn't even if we wanted to. Above my paygrade. " He makes sure to keep the the pistol drawn on Marcella, and standing where he is ahead of the rest of his group, it would be impossible to keep a weapon trained on him and the others. It would even be impossible to pivot the heavy bolter around without taking it off its brace, to bear on him. Still grinning he says, " And don't you go thinking about any of your witch powers. Look, I don't know who you all are, and I don't want to. If you want to access our database of security footage, you'll have to take it up our office. Ain't nothing we can help you with. "

Unless anyone stops them, the Star Guard will attempt to leave, keeping their weapons trained on the Acolytes as they back down the stairs and out of the building. 
 

Arl clears his throat from his position by the entrance behind the security folks, his stub automatic at full extension, aiming for the ex-Guardsman's head.

" First, at least point the pistol in another direction... it is *  rude  * to point.  Second, *IF* we have to come down to the home office, your won't like it, you supervisor won't like it... hell, the folks who actually own the business won't like it. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella listened to what Arl said and nodded once he finished, her soft voice drifting down from the second story.

 "I don't understand your recalcitrance. The big, big guy?"  she held her hand up a couple of feed above her head - Trask.

 "And the woman he was with?" 
 "Employment of and association with mutants is heresy. The authorities will purge your entire company and its whole pay-role, including you three. And the only evidence connecting you to them, is sitting on the databases in your headquarters, and you want to  keep it ...?" 

Marcella allowed a pregnant pause to linger in the air for a moment, before shrugging with visible confusion.

 "Sounds stupid, but, okay." 
bramblefoot
 

milo cracks a grin  "hey if you wanna be liquidated by the big boys, be my guest. ill pour out a dram for you at the pyre"  he chuckles mirthlessly
Bennosuke
 Arl clears his throat from his position by the entrance behind the security folks, his stub automatic at full extension, aiming for the ex-Guardsman's head.

"First, at least point the pistol in another direction... it is *rude* to point. Second, *IF* we have to come down to the home office, your won't like it, you supervisor won't like it... hell, the folks who actually own the business won't like it." 

Neither the Ex-Guardsman nor his companion seem phased by Arl. The guardsman even chuckles and replies, " Honestly, that's not my problem. " He keeps his weapons ready.


 Marcella listened to what Arl said and nodded once he finished, her soft voice drifting down from the second story.

"I don't understand your recalcitrance. The big, big guy?" she held her hand up a couple of feed above her head - Trask.

"And the woman he was with?"

"Employment of and association with mutants is heresy. The authorities will purge your entire company and its whole pay-role, including you three. And the only evidence connecting you to them, is sitting on the databases in your headquarters, and you want to keep it...?"

Marcella allowed a pregnant pause to linger in the air for a moment, before shrugging with visible confusion.

"Sounds stupid, but, okay." 

By now the group have backed up all the way down the stairs. Again, it is the Guardsman who speaks, " It hasn't been a problem so far. I think you're confusin' the grunts for the generals. And ain't that the pot calling the klag black,  Wytch ? " He chuckles again, but goes so far to stop to spit on the ground. Yellow mucous splats against the cream marble floor.


 milo cracks a grin "hey if you wanna be liquidated by the big boys, be my guest. ill pour out a dram for you at the pyre" he chuckles mirthlessly 

" Be my guest, " but this time it is the old woman who calls back, as the three are slipping out the front door, leaving he acolytes inside.

Upstairs, Ser Drimmle crawls on his knees to Marcella, his teeth clenched, a noise escaping him like a deflating zeppelin. He grabs the tail of her robes and says, " Now. Like you promised. Please let this all just end. " The man's grey hair has gone wild, his face still slick with tears.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 By now the group have backed up all the way down the stairs. Again, it is the Guardsman who speaks, " It hasn't been a problem so far. I think you're confusin' the grunts for the generals. And ain't that the pot calling the klag black,  Wytch ? " He chuckles again, but goes so far to stop to spit on the ground. Yellow mucous splats against the cream marble floor. 
 

The Psyker, for a moment, looked visibly sad, before exhaling, smiling politely and nodding.

 "Well in that case...I'll be seeing you again, real soon." 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Upstairs, Ser Drimmle crawls on his knees to Marcella, his teeth clenched, a noise escaping him like a deflating zeppelin. He grabs the tail of her robes and says, " Now. Like you promised. Please let this all just end. " The man's grey hair has gone wild, his face still slick with tears. 
 

Looking down at the man near her, Marcella spoke with the gentleness of a nurse in a hospice,  "soon. We'll verify those documents, ask any questions and then I'll put you to sleep." 
bramblefoot
 

milo puts his hand on marcellas shoulder  "close your heart to it"  he intones  "men must die, so man endures"  he'll continue with  "its natural some recdivists will not see the emperors light. do not mourn them, for they were forever lost" 
Haval
After the Star Guard leave Orla looks deeply irritated. To the others,  'Remind me again why we had to stand here and listen to that rather then say ****ing off out the back before they arrived. Normally I don't like violent *******s like that knowing what I look like.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc looked over at Milo when the man spoke, but before she could answer it was Orla who posed a question.

 "Our business here is not yet finished,"  she replied,  "and the Star Guard willingly employ and associate with mutants. They've got bigger problems coming their way." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 

Marc looked over at Milo when the man spoke, but before she could answer it was Orla who posed a question.

 "Our business here is not yet finished,"  she replied,  "and the Star Guard willingly employ and associate with mutants. They've got bigger problems coming their way."  
 

Orla will grumpily mutter something about feeling like there was a time and a place for that but won't comment further. Obviously the Inquisition gave you a certain amount of confidence in yourself.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 After the Star Guard leave Orla looks deeply irritated. To the others,  'Remind me again why we had to stand here and listen to that rather then say ****ing off out the back before they arrived. Normally I don't like violent *******s like that knowing what I look like.'  
 

Arl closes the door behind the Star Guard, the air of mocking politeness disappearing as the door closes with an audible click.

" In the grand scheme of things, this was barely a skirmish.  You don't waste time on prey that is neither edible or creditable...  The former guardsman doesn't realize it, but if he has caught anything, it is a cave bear that he thinks is toothless... if he makes to interfere in our business, he will find he cannot hope to succeed.  Don't think like a scavenger, Orla.  We're hunters and hunters chase worthy game, not idiots who don't know how far in over their heads they happen to be.  They are like rats in a cage, they just don't know it. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Looking over at Hound, Marcella spoke,  "O is right though. Asking Ser Drimmle any questions about the documents that need answering might be best done so we can leave...."  

The Psyker then looked over at the door where the Star Guards departed, before looking back at Hound.  "I think I know the best way to deal with them. While you finalize things with Drimmle, I'll call Arbitor Godwyn and tell them about the Star Guards employment of mutants. She and the arbitrators will raid their headquarters and confiscate evidence, including the pict recording databases, and she can hand over todays recording to us, while she gets a shiny medal and promotion for uncovering heresy and corruption in the heart of private security within the Spire. Most of the company and staff will be liquidated, including those three. Should I make the call?" 
 If Hound approves: 
 
 Spoiler 
Marc entered the comms number given to the group by the Inquisitor in that initial meeting in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

 "Greetings Arbitrator Godwyn..."  Marc's soft voice would come over those comms, while her features would have been obscured.

 "I am Inquisitorial Acolyte M. Your forwarding of the planetary enforcers interrogation of Clan Raptore member Ria has set in motion an investigation that has been pursued extensively, and has revealed that your concerns were well-founded. The Inquisition, the Imperium and the populace of this spire owe you a debt of gratitude for your thoroughness, ma'am. However, we need to call upon the duty of your unit once again.

The Star Guards. Have you heard of them? We have encountered their agents in the field, and they have, disturbingly, associated with and employed mutants within their ranks, and have done so knowingly. When questioned, they revealed that they have been doing this for some time, and are satisfied with their doing so because they have not been caught. These crimes of heresy are in addition to their obstruction of our investigation. We need you and your arbitrator unit to raid their headquarters and initiate liquidation processes for bodily heresy. Enter, arrest, detain and purge. Seize whatever evidence you can. One pict-recording in particular is of interest, its creation was today, and it should still be within their databases.

Two mutants that we know of that were in their employ were male humanoid  known as Trask, and a humanoid female void-born called Shriek. We have their employee identifications and can forward you the information."  
 
bramblefoot
 

milo nods  "make the call. they had their chance, and i can laugh at them as they burn"  he takes a small slug off of his flask, and will grin  "they can run, but they cant hide from the long arm of the inquisition" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl closes the door behind the Star Guard, the air of mocking politeness disappearing as the door closes with an audible click.

" In the grand scheme of things, this was barely a skirmish.  You don't waste time on prey that is neither edible or creditable...  The former guardsman doesn't realize it, but if he has caught anything, it is a cave bear that he thinks is toothless... if he makes to interfere in our business, he will find he cannot hope to succeed.  Don't think like a scavenger, Orla.  We're hunters and hunters chase worthy game, not idiots who don't know how far in over their heads they happen to be.  They are like rats in a cage, they just don't know it. " 
 

 'Then I probably should get more guns.' 

 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  " Should I make the call?"  
 

 'You can make the Arbitrators do whatever you want? Sure, sounds fun.' 
rax
After the Star Guard left, Hound stood silent for a long time, staring at the front door. He seemed oblivious to the discussion until he suddenly turned to look at Marcella.

 "No,"  he says.  "Suffering mutants to live is heresy, no doubt about it, but so is  witchcraft , and both are tolerated by the Imperium under certain circumstances. If it were an open and shut case here in Hive Hapheastein, the Star Guard people would have folded when you spoke of their transgressions. They didn't, so they clearly believe that they and their employers are in the clear. We should bring this up with the Interrogator when we return and let him decide whether or not to involve the Arbites." 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by rax 
 After the Star Guard left, Hound stood silent for a long time, staring at the front door. He seemed oblivious to the discussion until he suddenly turned to look at Marcella.

 "No,"  he says.  "Suffering mutants to live is heresy, no doubt about it, but so is  witchcraft , and both are tolerated by the Imperium under certain circumstances. If it were an open and shut case here in Hive Hapheastein, the Star Guard people would have folded when you spoke of their transgressions. They didn't, so they clearly believe that they and their employers are in the clear. We should bring this up with the Interrogator when we return and let him decide whether or not to involve the Arbites."  
 


The Psyker nodded in acquiescence,  "Yes Sir"  she acknowledged.
Bennosuke
With their discussion concluded, Ser Drimmle, grabs Marcella's sleeve again. " You promised, " he says through gritted teeth, his pale face now a ghostly color, flesh covered with a sheen of sweat.

(OOC: I think we are getting ready to move things on, so let me know if there is anything else you want to do before heading back to The Compound)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The first thing Marcella would do is help Drimmle compose himself so that he could answer any of Hounds questions regarding the documents they had acquired.

Once that was finished,  "alright, let's go..."  the Psyker would escort the banker to his bedroom.

 "Lay upon it and in a comfortable position. I suggest on your back, to avoid any back or shoulder cramps,"  she would gesture to his bed, as she set about looking for several large glasses of water to place at his bedside.

 "So, as I said, I will put you to sleep,"  Marcella stated, standing at the base of the bed and looking at the banker.

 "You will dream. You will also see a door in every one of your dreams. It will always be present and accessible. If at any point you want to wake up, simply walk through the door and you'll return here. If you do so, it is unlikely you'll hear from us for weeks. The investigation will be over in months and you can return to your life of luxury a wealthy man who is in the clear with the authorities and did his part in protecting the Imperium from the rot of heresy. Years from now, when you're a wiser man, you'll look back on this and be grateful for not having chosen to remain asleep.

If you do, however, the eventual lack of water intake will dramatically reduce your blood volume and increase its viscosity. This will restrict the flow of nutrients to your organs as well as oxygen, particularly to your kidneys and liver. Once that happens, they will be unable to process your metabolic waste, which will build up in your system until you suffer multiple organ failure. You will also run terminally low on electrolytes, such as sodium and potassium, causing your nervous system to no longer be capable of speaking to your muscles and organs. You have already suffered some blood loss from two gunshot wounds, so I estimate that if you do not walk through that door and wake yourself up, you will be dead within 48 hours. You, in your dream will feel nothing.

If you still choose not to return, you will enter the next phase. I don't know  exactly  what will unfold, but I do know that your only chance will be to focus on and head towards the Emperors light. Denizens and entities will try and impede you. Focus everything on the Emperor.  Everything . And head towards his light. Do you remember the first time we were here, and I suffered a...mishap, with my powers? The mind-compressive dread, the walls bloating with the red eyes and hideous laughter of entities outside the material realm? An eternity in their company awaits you if you fail. So I advise you to walk through the door and return here. Don't let death take you, you're not ready." 

Marcella allowed it all to hang in the air, the extended pregnant pause lingering palpably as the gravity of his choices would weigh upon the banker, even in his borderline broken state. Once he signaled he was ready, the Psyker would close her eyes and inhaled the warp upon herself, forming a bridge between her psyche and that of the credit guilder through which would pour a portion of her consciousness to draw Drimmle's mind into a fantasy world composed of his own memories. What they were exactly the Psyker did not know, but she was adept enough to identify those that the man enjoyed or thought of fondly, as she wove them into a tapestry to play through the mans mind like an interactive theatre. Joyous, memorable, times of victory, sensations of enjoyment and fulfilment, the rush and gratification of life that made it worth pursuing and continuing, even when hope seemed lost.

The Psyker would slowly open her eyes once her action was completed, viewing the man now finally sleeping before her. For a moment she wondered what he was experiencing, what precisely those memories were, and if they would be able to prompt him to not be a damn silly fool and to take the door to return to the present.

Swallowing, exhaling, knowing she'd done the best she could, Marc would return to the others and gather their things before heading off. However, before departure, she would stop by that garden of Drimmle's and retrieve a few clippings of the various flowers present within the beautiful arena, and tuck them carefully away in a sealed bag for later.


OOC:
__________________________
This is purely cinematic, there's no listed power for this. Marc is putting Drimmle to sleep, where he'll dream and enjoy most of his best memories, with the ability to wake up whenever he wants after being reminded of why it's worth going on, hopefully doing so with a good amount of sleep to help repair is sleep deprived mind.
bramblefoot
 

milo considers and will light a cigarette.  "seems like our next task is star guard solutions"  he says.  "aint nothing worse than a wolf in sheeps clothing"  he sighs contentedly as the smoke curls around him. he mumbles a small prayer and makes the sign of the aquilla

 "Worship the Emperor, embrace his radiance, for in the light of his glory, the Imperium shall endure, and the heretic shall wither in the shadows of righteous wrath."  he finishes his prayer, and will wait to see where everyone else says were going
Bennosuke
 So, as I said, I will put you to sleep," Marcella stated, standing at the base of the bed and looking at the banker.

"You will dream. You will also see a door in every one of your dreams. It will always be present and accessible. If at any point you want to wake up, simply walk through the door and you'll return here. If you do so, it is unlikely you'll hear from us for weeks. The investigation will be over in months and you can return to your life of luxury a wealthy man who is in the clear with the authorities and did his part in protecting the Imperium from the rot of heresy. Years from now, when you're a wiser man, you'll look back on this and be grateful for not having chosen to remain asleep.

If you do, however, the eventual lack of water intake will dramatically reduce your blood volume and increase its viscosity. This will restrict the flow of nutrients to your organs as well as oxygen, particularly to your kidneys and liver. Once that happens, they will be unable to process your metabolic waste, which will build up in your system until you suffer multiple organ failure. You will also run terminally low on electrolytes, such as sodium and potassium, causing your nervous system to no longer be capable of speaking to your muscles and organs. You have already suffered some blood loss from two gunshot wounds, so I estimate that if you do not walk through that door and wake yourself up, you will be dead within 48 hours. You, in your dream will feel nothing.

If you still choose not to return, you will enter the next phase. I don't know exactly what will unfold, but I do know that your only chance will be to focus on and head towards the Emperors light. Denizens and entities will try and impede you. Focus everything on the Emperor. Everything. And head towards his light. Do you remember the first time we were here, and I suffered a...mishap, with my powers? The mind-compressive dread, the walls bloating with the red eyes and hideous laughter of entities outside the material realm? An eternity in their company awaits you if you fail. So I advise you to walk through the door and return here. Don't let death take you, you're not ready."

Marcella allowed it all to hang in the air, the extended pregnant pause lingering palpably as the gravity of his choices would weigh upon the banker, even in his borderline broken state. Once he signaled he was ready, the Psyker would close her eyes and inhaled the warp upon herself, forming a bridge between her psyche and that of the credit guilder through which would pour a portion of her consciousness to draw Drimmle's mind into a fantasy world composed of his own memories. What they were exactly the Psyker did not know, but she was adept enough to identify those that the man enjoyed or thought of fondly, as she wove them into a tapestry to play through the mans mind like an interactive theatre. Joyous, memorable, times of victory, sensations of enjoyment and fulfilment, the rush and gratification of life that made it worth pursuing and continuing, even when hope seemed lost.

The Psyker would slowly open her eyes once her action was completed, viewing the man now finally sleeping before her. For a moment she wondered what he was experiencing, what precisely those memories were, and if they would be able to prompt him to not be a damn silly fool and to take the door to return to the present. 

Ser Drimmle's eyes go wide Marcella describes the process to him. When she is finished though his thin lips pull back into a scowl, his nostrils flaring once as he says, " You coward. Won't even just end it quickly. " Even though the words are only muttered, they echo through the cavernous landing. He takes a deep breath in and out, then continues, " Well if you won't just put a bullet in my head, then you might as well just get this done with. " He breathes out again, then crumples from his knees onto all four, his head bowed to the floor. He allows himself to be touched by Marcella, to be put into a dream state, where he will remain until his body can finally pass away.

(OOC: Not sure what power Marcella has that allows her to do this, but happy to hand wave things for now)

Once Marcella rejoins the group, the acolytes gather as much as they can discretely carry. Along with the documents offered by Ser Drimmle, they can discretely carry his ornate las pistol, a pair of frag grenades and a stub pistol from Trask, as well as a pair of mono-edged knives from Shriek. ID badges from the two dead Star Guard can be retrieved, as can 183 thrones. Less discrete to carry would be things like Ser Drimmle's Mesh armor, or the flak armor from Shriek and Trask, as well as the heavy stubber.

(OOC: Will need final statements about who takes what loot and what is brought. Will require a stealth roll from anyone who decides to carry the less discrete equipment on their person, with certain items likely having negative modifiers. )

Following this, the Acolytes quickly flee Ser Drimmle's mansion, exiting out the secret side door. There is a general unease felt in the streets. It seems most pedestrians have fled the area, and those still about move with a haste and a discretion not commonly seen in the upper hive. The Acolytes keep their heads down, making it back to the railstation which takes them back to the midhive. The street lamps have come on by the time the group reaches their compound, though it is not yet past cerfew.

At the door to their compound, Ezekiel throws the door open and ushers the group inside. Instead of his regular finery, the Interrogator is dressed in a black body suit padded with light Plastek and rubberized mail armoring; though he does have a rich forest green fleece robe thrown over for warmth. The man's eyes are wide with suspicion as he practically pulls everyone past the threshold, slamming the door behind them. " What happened, " he says with shaking voice. The man's face is flush, and veins have corded up across his neck. The cocky silent Interrogator is gone, replaced by a man shaking with emotion. Struggling to control his temper Ezekiel adds, " The enforcer channels are filled with the news of a murder or maybe an assault of a noble in the Upper Hive. Ser Drimmle has been reported as dead, or maybe in a coma! The local force is trying to get the Arbites involved! What happend to discretion! What happend to our cover! " The man smashes a gloved fist against the wall.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc's lips pursed as the banker took his last little stab at her. She got in hers, right before putting him under.

 "Listen; I'm the best friend in the galaxy you have right now. When you wake up, you'll thank me." 

And that was that.

 oOo 
Marc remained quiet on the trip back to the compound. Even on the train the Psyker seemed withdrawn and aloof, her eyes half-glazed over as she stared out the window and across the transformation of glittering Upper Spire beauty to Mid-Spire banality. Periodically her lips might move ever so slightly, as if she were whispering to herself or some unseen entity pressed up against the window, the natural ambience and hum of the train making whatever she was uttering beneath her breath almost impossible to deduce.

This relative silence remained during the coterie's approach towards their headquarters, as Marcella seemed out of it, her eyes peering forward, or up and around, shrugging to herself, whispering gently at a softly spoken conversation only she could perceive. Her disjointed perception of her surroundings continued into their headquarters and 'greeting' by the Interrogator, he normal light of her eyes only returning towards the end of his strained reception.

Hearing the last two words and understanding the anxiety behind them, Marcella turned her head to look at  Milo . She wouldn't cover for him, but she knew that throwing team-members under the bus at this point in time was not the most productive course of action.

 "Drimmle hired the private security company, Star Guards, as his entourage, Sir,"  Marcella's soft voice emerged, as she reached into her coat and withdrew the two ID cards and dangled them for Ezekiel to see from the centre of her right, gloved index finger. Brandished upon one plastic rectangle would be the pigly visage of Trask, while Shrieks hideous face dominated the other. The two were human in dimensions only, and clearly touched by Chaos.

 "The Star Guards employed these two mutants that were present. A firefight ensued. We retrieved the financial documents pertinent to the case. Drimmle himself...when I reached into his mind it was like putting your hand into a hole of broken glass; the man had been sleep deprived for a month, his mind was so broken he had become suicidal, and demanded that we kill him. I put him into a dreamstate, one he is free to wake from any time he wishes, but if he does not do so then he will die of dehydration in approximately 48 hours, assuming no one connects an IV to him. I could contact him again in his current state if you wish, Sir." 
Haval
Orla is extremley dubious about the wisdom of taking the heavy stubber with them. In the Underhive she wouldn't think twice but after what's already happened lately she's expecting someone somwhere to be watching them as they return to the Inquisition compound. Still, it would be a shame to leave something like that just lying around. If there was any trouble she could always slip away from the others. She will spend some time going through the house to find blankets or curtains to wrap the stubber in. Failing that she will help herself to any boxes or pieces of furniture that were large enough to hide the gun in. In that case she will cajole Arl into helping her carry it.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Search to find furniture to carry the stubber in?
vs. Per 39
 (1d100)[ 83 ] 

Stealth vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
 (1d100)[ 4 ] 
 


-------------

In the face of the angry Interrogator she will suppress her urge to be flippant and wait for someone else to answer him. It was literally her first day having to deal with this.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZlOhSt_qW0 
 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla is extremley dubious about the wisdom of taking the heavy stubber with them. In the Underhive she wouldn't think twice but after what's already happened lately she's expecting someone somwhere to be watching them as they return to the Inquisition compound. Still, it would be a shame to leave something like that just lying around. If there was any trouble she could always slip away from the others. She will spend some time going through the house to find blankets or curtains to wrap the stubber in. Failing that she will help herself to any boxes or pieces of furniture that were large enough to hide the gun in. In that case she will cajole Arl into helping her carry it.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Search to find furniture to carry the stubber in?
vs. Per 39
[roll0]

Stealth vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
[roll1]
 
 
 

Arl looks around Drimmle's mansion until he finds what he is looking for -- a sufficiently large area rug in which of roll the heavy stubber up in.  Doing so, he and Orla pick up the heavy weapon and lug it back to the van.

" Don't really know what we're going to actually use a crew-served weapon for, but better to have it and not need it... "
Haval
 'You want to rob a bank? Anyway, we can't leave something like this lying around. Someone might hurt themselves with it.' 
rax
 "Yes, there was an altercation at Drimmle's abode. As Acolyte Marcella says, Sir Drimmle had hired a private security force in an attempt to force us to renegotiate the terms of his service. We attempted to talk sense to him, but the situation could not be contained. After the mutants were killed, we confronted three other members of the Star Guard and had Drimmle pay them off to keep them quiet."  
 "However, their attitudes indicate that they are likely unreliable and we know that a copy of footage from Sir Drimmle's security system is now held by the Star Guard at their premises. It is likely we can be identified through these recordings. In light of their  mercenary  inclinations, we believe it will be necessary to recover the footage or make certain that the Star Guard will be no further trouble."  
 "Acolyte Marcella believes that reporting the fact that they employ mutants to the relevant authorities might lead to the Star Guard being dealt with in accordance with Imperial Law. However, the three survivors we spoke to seemed sanguine about having mutants as part of their crew. I am therefore sceptical that such a course of action will be successful. It seems likely that the Star Guard either have powerful backers who would protect them or that local legal tradition tolerates such heresy."  
Bennosuke
Ezekiel seems to calm initially as Marcella then Hound explain the situation, but when Hound brings up the issue with the Star Guard's security footage, he slaps his thigh and mutters, " For the love of The Golden Throne! " He hears Hound out the rest of the way then shakes his head. His reply is still stern but the anger has dropped out, replaced by an analytic sharpness. " You all have done enough. We are going to need to go to ground for a little bit. I've already started the process of moving us to a new compound but it will take a day or two more for the funds to transfer, and the security system we've payed for to be installed, " he says. He shakes his head, " I can have the Star Guard silenced, that shouldn't be too much of a problem. But WE, as a group, are going to need to keep a lower profile. This is going to lead to fear in the Upper Hive, likely even an investigation... but I can talk to The Arbites about that, and get things cleaned up. The bigger issue is going to be Lord Durchess! Drimmle was his right hand man, right? He's going to know someone is coming for him. It is going to be much, much harder to get close to him. "

Ezekiel takes a deep breath in and out, then shakes his head again, " Any thoughts on how to fix this? "
Haval
Orla will speak up at the invitation to offer her opinion.  'Find someone else to pin it on if you can. There's always violent people, even in the midhive.'  Including the Inquisition.  'If we're moving what are the chances that someone might show up here to look into us?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc remained quiet and observant as first Hound filled in the rest of the story, and Ezekiel responded.

So, they were moving to a new place? That was exciting! Though it would be better if it were under more auspicious circumstances, and for more favourable reasons.

Then Orla made her suggestion, and Marcella nodded along with it.  "If Ser Drimmle decides to wake up and continue on, it would not be that difficult to pin his wounds and situation on a break in by two mutants, against whom he was protected by his Star Guard security..."  she trailed off, allowing the implications to hang in the air before she shrugged.  "Everyone could be in the clear, everyone could save face." 

The Psyker pursed her lips before continuing,  "I put Ser Drimmle into a dream-state where he will relive his most favoured memories. He has the option to return. But if he does not wish to do so, and I bring him back into the present anyway, the man has become mentally unstable and suicidal. When I reached into his mind I saw that he was planning on committing suicide anyway, even if his transaction with us had gone smoothly..." 

Marcella paused for a moment,  "unless you wish me to initiate contact, we will know within 48 hours what his choice was. In the meantime, I can assist Acolyte Hound with analysis of the documents he provided. He claimed that everything we needed was contained therein." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel seems to calm initially as Marcella then Hound explain the situation, but when Hound brings up the issue with the Star Guard's security footage, he slaps his thigh and mutters, " For the love of The Golden Throne! " He hears Hound out the rest of the way then shakes his head. His reply is still stern but the anger has dropped out, replaced by an analytic sharpness. " You all have done enough. We are going to need to go to ground for a little bit. I've already started the process of moving us to a new compound but it will take a day or two more for the funds to transfer, and the security system we've payed for to be installed, " he says. He shakes his head, " I can have the Star Guard silenced, that shouldn't be too much of a problem. But WE, as a group, are going to need to keep a lower profile. This is going to lead to fear in the Upper Hive, likely even an investigation... but I can talk to The Arbites about that, and get things cleaned up. The bigger issue is going to be Lord Durchess! Drimmle was his right hand man, right? He's going to know someone is coming for him. It is going to be much, much harder to get close to him. "

Ezekiel takes a deep breath in and out, then shakes his head again, " Any thoughts on how to fix this? " 
 

Arl glances around the room and lets out a breath.

" I   may   have an answer to that, sir.  I have made several... connections with the local criminal fraternities who provide services to other, more respectable citizens of the hive.  One such contact seems to be believe he can get me aboard the Rogue Trader's vessel the next time he arrives, for a suitable honoraria, of course.  It would permit us to get to the next link in the chain -- if we're unable to go up the chain from Drimmle, perhaps we can follow the good down from the Rogue Trader's vessel .
Bennosuke
 'If we're moving what are the chances that someone might show up here to look into us?' 

Ezekiel frowns, " I think we are moving because it is highly likely that someone does come here looking for us. " He studies Orla for a moment and adds, " But before you get any ideas about booby trapping the place; we'd be better off making it look like we were never here. It's likely anyone who comes looking for us won't be Durchesse himself, but either a hired flunky or even maybe even the Arbites. Hurting them won't help us deal with our target, and it will only confirm suspicions regarding our possible involvement. "


 Then Orla made her suggestion, and Marcella nodded along with it. "If Ser Drimmle decides to wake up and continue on, it would not be that difficult to pin his wounds and situation on a break in by two mutants, against whom he was protected by his Star Guard security..." she trailed off, allowing the implications to hang in the air before she shrugged. "Everyone could be in the clear, everyone could save face."

The Psyker pursed her lips before continuing, "I put Ser Drimmle into a dream-state where he will relive his most favoured memories. He has the option to return. But if he does not wish to do so, and I bring him back into the present anyway, the man has become mentally unstable and suicidal. When I reached into his mind I saw that he was planning on committing suicide anyway, even if his transaction with us had gone smoothly..." 

Ezekiel turns toward Marcella, ire rising in his face. In the tone of a school teacher correcting a student he says sharply, " If Ser Drimmle DOES wake up, then he can turn this back around on US! " He scowls, and with a mutter says, " Better off you had killed him. "


 Marcella paused for a moment, "unless you wish me to initiate contact, we will know within 48 hours what his choice was. In the meantime, I can assist Acolyte Hound with analysis of the documents he provided. He claimed that everything we needed was contained therein." 

The Interrogator shakes his head and raises a finger as if to hush Marcella. " What did I just say about keeping a low profile and remaining hidden? " he asks with the same scolding tone.


 "I may have an answer to that, sir. I have made several... connections with the local criminal fraternities who provide services to other, more respectable citizens of the hive. One such contact seems to be believe he can get me aboard the Rogue Trader's vessel the next time he arrives, for a suitable honoraria, of course. It would permit us to get to the next link in the chain -- if we're unable to go up the chain from Drimmle, perhaps we can follow the good down from the Rogue Trader's vessel. 

This seems to ameliorate some of Ezekiel's wrath, though he replies, " Interesting... and when do we think the Rogue Trader might be back? "
Haval
Orla nods,  'Killing any one else would just attract more attention. The question is only whether it's worth knowing exactly who shows up here to look around.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 This seems to ameliorate some of Ezekiel's wrath, though he replies, " Interesting... and when do we think the Rogue Trader might be back? " 
 

Arl pauses for a moment, and then speaks:

" Currently unknown, but my contact believes me to be enamored of space travel.  I also didn't pay the whole fare "upfront," but rather a bit to retain their services, with the rest to come when I know the Rogue Trader is coming and the balance once I am aboard the Rogue Trader's ship.  Assuming that this one wants his Thrones, he will be leaving me a message at the Commissar as soon as he knows the ship is en route.  The dockside criminal class seems to be surprisingly well informed on the Rogue Trader's comings and goings, not to mention their doings.  Apparently, per my informant, the Rogue Trader has been harvesting his Cold Trade artifacts in the Purgatory Ring,   if   they are to be believed.   
BananaPhone
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel turns toward Marcella, ire rising in his face. In the tone of a school teacher correcting a student he says sharply, " If Ser Drimmle DOES wake up, then he can turn this back around on US! " He scowls, and with a mutter says, " Better off you had killed him. "

The Interrogator shakes his head and raises a finger as if to hush Marcella. " What did I just say about keeping a low profile and remaining hidden? " he asks with the same scolding tone. 
 

There was a recent time where the young telepath would've been mortified to receive such a broadside from a superior officer, particularly in the company of others. Though her visible youth bought her some leeway, it was never particularly enjoyable to receive a dressing down.

However, that was before the desensitising effect that the recent violence and mental trip through the broken mind of a man in the grip of suicidal ideation. Such traumatic events had numbed the girl to scoldings such as this, to the point she simply nodded and replied emptily;

 "Understood. As you wish, Sir." 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
  "The bigger issue is going to be Lord Durchess! Drimmle was his right hand man, right? He's going to know someone is coming for him. It is going to be much, much harder to get close to him." 

Ezekiel takes a deep breath in and out, then shakes his head again, " Any thoughts on how to fix this? " 
 

  "We currently have no actionable intelligence that we know of which would enable us to successfully detain Lord Durchess. However, there may be some leads in the dossier Sir Drimmle compiled for us, so that needs to studied and analysed as soon as possible. Acolyte Marcella  was  able to ascertain that Drimmle had gathered this information in good faith, so the chances are good that  something  useful will be contained within,"  Hound summarized his view dispassionately.
Bennosuke
The Interrogator turns his attention back to Orla. With a sneer he says, " You mean killing Drimmle? " He opens his mouth to say more, but decides against it. To her second point he replies, " Don't worry, we'll leave some bugs here. "

Ezekiel's face turns pale with Arl's words. " The Purgatory Ring? ****e, " he grumbles. He takes a slow and intentional breath in and out, then adds, " Well I guess you will have to let us know when that lead pulls through. "

He then turns to Marcella. Following her show of obedience, he says flatly, " Very good. " He finishes locking the doors to the compound and over his shoulder addresses the group, " Anything else you lot found out, " then lower under his breath, " Any other bad news I should know about? "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Interrogator turns his attention back to Orla. With a sneer he says, " You mean killing Drimmle? " He opens his mouth to say more, but decides against it. To her second point he replies, " Don't worry, we'll leave some bugs here. " 
 

Orla doesn't mean that at all but has no interest in talking further. She will nod in satisfaction at the mention of bugs. Being in the Inquisition ought to give you access to things that most people don't have or what was the point.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella's eyes moved over to look at Arl as he explained what results of his digging, and the Psyker had to work hard to suppress a little smile. Not only was the feat of good ol' detective work impressive, but it might take them back to the interior of a starship. For Marcella, it was like being told she could go home. She then turned her sight back to the Interrogator in time to receive his gaze.


 He then turns to Marcella. Following her show of obedience, he says flatly, "Very good." He finishes locking the doors to the compound and over his shoulder addresses the group, "Anything else you lot found out," then lower under his breath, "Any other bad news I should know about?" 

  'Oh nothing else much, just that we've taken your rumor from an arbiter and turned it into a map of a hive-wide conspiracy that threatens the entire planet and everyone on it and we're in the process of dismantling it so you can claim the credit in front of the  actual  Inquisitor...'  

That's what Marc  wanted  to say. Her once school-girl like desire for the approval of superiors was mostly evaporating in the wake of recent trauma's.

 "No Sir,"  came Marcella's actual reply, her impassive expression matching that of Hounds.
Bennosuke
 Act II Scene iv 
 Your daily work brings you closer and closer to the warp, increases your understanding of orderless powers. Gradually, without noticing it, even the most puritanical and rod-stiff inquisitor becomes seduced... The first step is the knowledge. An inquisitor must understand the basic traits of Chaos in order to fight it. In a few years, he knows more about the warp than most untutored cultists. Then the second step: the moment he breaks the rules and allows some aspect of Chaos to survive or remain so that he can study it and learn from it... The third step... the third step is the line itself. When the inquisitor becomes a radical. When he chooses to use Chaos against Chaos. When he employs the agencies of the warp. When he asks the heretical for help... So... are you going to ask me to help you? 

-Pontius Glaw


The next week is spent mostly in hiding. At the Interrogator's orders, the acolytes keep a low profile, spending their time licking their wounds, cleaning their weapons, and preparing for the next step. That is not to say the time is ill spent.

But when we come back to our cell, the acolytes have finally moved up to their new compound. Located in the same spire as Lord Durchesse's expansive properties, the group find their new home a lavish step up in comfort and space. Though austerely decorated, each acolyte finds themselves with a private chambers large enough to host a small feast. Interrogator Ezekiel is of course quick to remind the group of his part in securing such a generous space. He spends the first few hours reviewing the security systems; checking the cameras installed in each room, the sound proofing, and using some high tech device on the walls, which he says he is using to check for any bugs. The space is large enough to require a small house staff, but of course Ezekiel refuses to allow this, stating it would put their security at risk.

Soon the Interrogator will gather the acolytes to discuss the next steps of their investigation. But first, please take a moment to describe how your character is reacting to the change of scenery. Feel free to include some character interaction if you would like

**************************************************  ******

 (OOC: Jumping back in time) 

With Orla's help, Marcella had done her best to conceal the bulky and deactivate hexagrammic ward. Finding a small exotic rug in one of the bathrooms, the two had struggled to wrap the thing up, but still there was no good way to keep a hold of the thing. With the additional weight, Marcella finds herself repeatedly falling behind the rest of the group as they fled Ser Drimmle's manor, and with the thing half in front of her face, she was repeatedly having to stop to try to peer around the darn thing to see where the others were going.

At one instance, Marcella stops to lower the bundle and finds that the rest of the group is nowhere to be found; though possibly they had just turned the corner up the next block. Instead a pimple faced boy is sitting on a bench near her, a data slate in his lap, but his eyes on her. He's dressed in frock and finery that would make even many of the upperhivers embarrassed, his face powdered, his long blonde hair combed back and held with ribbons. He rises slowly from his seat, and says, " Hey, what's that you got there. " His voice is still girlish, his tone that of one who expects to always gets what he wants. By the way he steps forward into Marcella's way, it's clear he has no intention of letting her past without his curiosity being sated.

The street has a fair number of pedestrians, but fortunately they are not paying the two any mind; yet.
Haval
Orla's room is the biggest she's ever had and she'll spend some time rearranging the furniture to her satisfaction and trying out the bed. She doesn't have much in the way of anything to put it it beyond her collection of various guns. After which she'll explore the building as much as she's allowed. It might be handy to know exactly how to get out of a place like this quickly if she was in a hurry. So far her experience with the Inquisition was that it would be safer to rely on herself in an emergency.

Once she had explored enough to satisfy her paranoia she'll investigate whatever passed for a kitchen in this place.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc felt the weight of the ward and the way it awkwardly dispersed across the rolled up exotic carpet that was planking across her arms, and the extra drag slowed her down. It was clumsy and awkward to carry, as the rug required a constant application of binding force, either from her hands or form her rams, to halt it from spinning open and sending its contents clattering over the floor. More than once the Psyker fell behind the others, her shorter form merely drifting backwards into the crowds that moved around them like a human ocean, until finally the girl needed a breather.

Pausing, panting softly, cursing at herself for neglecting arm days at the gym, Marcella felt her shoulders clench slightly as a young voice came at her from behind.

 "Hey, what's that you got there."  

Turning around to face the source of the question, or statement rather, Marcella came face to face with the garishly dressed boy, his image like that of an old fashioned mime.

Looking him up and down once, this day not really being his day, Marcella responded simply,  "it's a rug,"  she shook the item a little to emphasise it,  "I opted to carry it home instead of getting it delivered, and now I'm paying the price. Now, if you'll excuse me young man..."  she finished, turning about and attempting to leave.

 oOo 
Marcella smiled from ear to ear as she held the black stub revolver in her gloved hands.

 
 Spoiler 
 
 

 An iconic  click!  announced the opening of the wheel as she pushed the chamber out, spinning it on its spindle before using her wrist to slap-load it back into the piece so she could then hold it up and aim down the sights. Though the large pistol looked a tad big for Marc's smaller hands, she managed to handle it just fine, knowing her way around the loading mechanism as she pulled the hammer back and pulled the trigger; the empty  Click!  eliciting a grin from her before she spun it around on one finger and smoothly deposited it into the polymer holster on her hip.

 "Thank you so much!"  she beamed up at Arl, putting her arms around his shoulders to give him a big hug of gratitude.

 "I'll pick up some reload stars the next time I see my dealer!" 
 oOo 
 At the clinic... 
 
 Spoiler 
Marc looked down at the bubbly little pyjama-wrapped infant that was laying face-down on her office floor, its bulbuous head up and staring at her with its pink lips frothed with baby-saliva, its eyes bright and staring right at her before a gawdling-giggle escaped its mouth. The six month old baby giggled again as it tried to roll over onto its back only for, unaware to it, its adjacent and flat-laying arm was preventing its attempt.

 "No, you can't roll over because your arm is in the way..."  Marcella coo'ed, her voice more playful and borderline baby-talk.

The toddler just squeal-giggled and kicked its little feet up and down, before its mother reached down to pick him up and draw him to her chest, before looking back at Marcella.

 "So you can see why I'm worried, he's fine now, but at home, and some other places, he has this cough, it's constant, he'll cough at least once every few minutes." 

Marc pursed her lips, tapping her pen against her clipboard.

 "Based on the symptoms you've described, it's possibly just a reaction to poor air quality. You said you haven't changed your air filters in a few years? I recommend doing so as soon as possible, and replacing them every few months. His cough should clear up soon, however, if the symptoms persist, please page the clinic, and we'll schedule a follow-up appointment in a couple of weeks to reassess and explore further options." 

The woman looked relieved, taking the chance to pull a small face at her child before kissing him on the forehead.

 "Thank you doctor, that's a weight off my shoulders; I was worried he might have, I dunno, something inborn, or, I dunno what the terms are, you know, asthma." 

Marc waved it off with a slight smile, turning to type something into her computer.

 "It's good you brought him, just in case. You said you live in this region?"  Marc asked, pointing to an area near the womans address, to which she received a positive reply.  "Yeah, we've had a few of these cases from there. Could also be something in the local air quality, so we can provide you some filtration plugs for when you're outside for long stretches." 
 

 oOo
 
The new place was very much a welcome change of scene for the Psyker, though she was admittedly used to the more frugal lifestyle. Growing up in the cathedral of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, she had always enjoyed a comfortable, if minimally furnished little room to herself, enough for an area for prayer and meditate, as well as sleep after a long day. But the new accommodations within the compound were...

She stood in the centre of her designated quarters, looking around at the large space, a smile on her face. Yes, they would be most satisfactory!

The first thing Marc did was clean her quarters; the vacuum cleaner buzzing followed by the bleached/floor cleaner mix. That done, she arranged her clothing and study space, along with an area for her meditation, yoga and in-room exercises. The basics down, she arranged organized her 'items', particularly her guns and her armored coat, where they could be repaired or inspected as needed. All of this complete, she finally set about decorating, as she moved through the headquarters and found a variety of plastic bins and troughs, filled them with dirt and a touch of fertilizer, and started to plant the flower cuttings she had taken from Drimmle's own garden, and arranged them around her room. Standing back and behold her work, her hands still dirty with soil, the Psyker smiled to herself over how beautiful it would soon be!

With filthy hands and an appetite built up, Marc would leave her abode and go in search of the kitchen, to wash her hands and find something she could zap in the microwave.
Wyndeward
Arl looked over his new quarters and then set about re-arranging the room to suit his purposes.

The room itself seemed too large for one person... one family, leastwise on Kesh.  Living there had almost always been communal, so privacy, while not by any means a new experience, seemed a little strange.

He shifted the bed so it was flush to the wall, creating space for work.  He set his clothes in the closet, carefully hanging up the Credit Guild cloak and his few items.

He "borrowed" a small table and set it up as a small shrine to the machine spirits of his weapons, which he carefully went about breaking down, cleaning and re-assembling while muttering the proper rites.  He first cleaned and reassembled the stub revolver he promised Marcella, then the two stub automatics, the recently acquired hand cannon and, last, his rifle.  Soon the smell of scented gun-oil wafted through the air.  When they were finally reassembled, he replaced the stub revolver in its shrine-case and closed the lid, latching it shut.  He then put the hand cannon in his holster and went looking for Marcella, the stub revolver's case held in his left hand.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Arl would find Marc near the kitchen sink, cleaning her hands with soap beneath the running warm water. Nearby, one of the microwaves emitted the warm glow from within as it hummed in its process, a timer counting down upon its display.

Noticing the assassins arrival, Marc would turn her head across her shoulder and offer a bright smile in welcome.

 "Oh - hey! Pretty fancy hab, huh? Settling in alright?" 
Bennosuke
 Marc felt the weight of the ward and the way it awkwardly dispersed across the rolled up exotic carpet that was planking across her arms, and the extra drag slowed her down. It was clumsy and awkward to carry, as the rug required a constant application of binding force, either from her hands or form her rams, to halt it from spinning open and sending its contents clattering over the floor. More than once the Psyker fell behind the others, her shorter form merely drifting backwards into the crowds that moved around them like a human ocean, until finally the girl needed a breather.

Pausing, panting softly, cursing at herself for neglecting arm days at the gym, Marcella felt her shoulders clench slightly as a young voice came at her from behind.

"Hey, what's that you got there."

Turning around to face the source of the question, or statement rather, Marcella came face to face with the garishly dressed boy, his image like that of an old fashioned mime.

Looking him up and down once, this day not really being his day, Marcella responded simply, "it's a rug," she shook the item a little to emphasise it, "I opted to carry it home instead of getting it delivered, and now I'm paying the price. Now, if you'll excuse me young man..." she finished, turning about and attempting to leave. 

The boy narrows his gaze at Marcella, refusing to move out of her way. Of course she could turn around and go back the way she came, but that would be "back to the scene of the crime", so to speak. " I see it's a rug, " the boy says petulantly, crossing his arms across his chest, " but it sure looks like you've got something rolled up in your rug. " He raises his voice as he says this second part, threatening to get the attention of those around them. He'll add in with curiosity, " Are you with that other group of Credit Guilders who just went by? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

It was times like this that Marcella wished she was scary looking. To be equipped with the type of icy, resting b!tchface that frightened off most people from approaching could come in handy about now! Instead she looked about as menacing as a golden retriever.

 "Look, kid, I'm really not having a great day. It's just a rug, okay? I'm going to roll it out on my floor later and it's going to look fabulous. Is it money you want? Will some thrones get you off my back?"  she asked, clearly losing her patience as she held the rug in one arm and moved her free gloved band towards a pocket.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 

Arl would find Marc near the kitchen sink, cleaning her hands with soap beneath the running warm water. Nearby, one of the microwaves emitted the warm glow from within as it hummed in its process, a timer counting down upon its display.

Noticing the assassins arrival, Marc would turn her head across her shoulder and offer a bright smile in welcome.

 "Oh - hey! Pretty fancy hab, huh? Settling in alright?"  
 

Arl smiles in return and sets the gun case on the counter next to her, careful to keep it far enough away that it doesn't get wet.

" It certainly is a bit of a step up from our last bolt hole, although my room is large enough that you could fit a family in it, at least by the standards on Kesh.  "

Arl indicates the gun case.  " This is for you.  She has served me well since I was taken in by the Inquisition.   May she serve you as well as she did me. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "You haven't told me much about Kesh - I'd like to hear about if you want to share..."  the Psykers voice trailed off as the box was edged forward, her eyes moving to it as it opened.

 "By the Emperor!"  she exclaimed, eyes wide, both hands clasping over her mouth as she stared in disbelief.

 "Oh thank you so much - righteous!"  Marcella beamed happily, reaching forth to receive the item. The weapon looked large in her smaller hands, but she demonstrated aptitude when she popped out the cylinder without having to be shown how and gave it a spin before snap-shutting it with a flick of her wrist before aiming down the sights. The dark, smooth exterior contrasted with her skin as she spun it around on one finger and pretended to holster it.

 "That is so sweet! No one has ever given me anything before - thank you so much Arl!"  Marcella beamed, standing up on her tippie toes to give the assassin a big hug in gratitude.
rax
While waiting for the move to the new safe house, Hound spent every spare minute ensconced in his quarters, studying the information the Drimmle had collected. When the word came that it was time to go, he gathered his few belongings, stuffed them in his backpack, and was soon ready to leave.

At the new compound, he quickly installs himself one of the smaller rooms and continues his investigation of the data-slate. He appears every so often to prepare a meal and get something to drink, but otherwise keeps to himself. Although he says nothing when he runs into one his teammates, it's clear that he's singularly unimpressed with the team's new, luxurious surroundings.
Haval
Orla will chuckle at the sight of Marcella's showing off as she enters the kitchen.  'Who taught you how to do that?'  She'll commence opening cupboards and drawers as she searches for something that looks tasty or that she at least recognises.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc looked over at Orla as the Underhiver asked her question, that bright smile returning to the Psykers features.

 "I did!"  she said with a noticeable point of pride.

 "When the instructors were teaching us basic self defence at the Cathedral, one of them would always twirl his pistol and I was envious; I wanted to be able to do that too. So, I practiced with my laspistol a lot, and now?"  

Marc held the revolver up once again, dextrously strung her index finger through the trigger guard to form a small hook and spun it about before gripping and feint holstering it to where the receptacle would be on her thigh.

 "Tada!" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 
 "You haven't told me much about Kesh - I'd like to hear about if you want to share..."  the Psykers voice trailed off as the box was edged forward, her eyes moving to it as it opened.

 "By the Emperor!"  she exclaimed, eyes wide, both hands clasping over her mouth as she stared in disbelief.

 "Oh thank you so much - righteous!"  Marcella beamed happily, reaching forth to receive the item. The weapon looked large in her smaller hands, but she demonstrated aptitude when she popped out the cylinder without having to be shown how and gave it a spin before snap-shutting it with a flick of her wrist before aiming down the sights. The dark, smooth exterior contrasted with her skin as she spun it around on one finger and pretended to holster it.

 "That is so sweet! No one has ever given me anything before - thank you so much Arl!"  Marcella beamed, standing up on her tippie toes to give the assassin a big hug in gratitude. 
 

Arl smiled and gently hugged Marc back.

" You are most welcome!  You have been a true ally and more than earned your place in our little cabal, not to mention making healing from my failure to duck easier, for which I must thank you...  As for Kesh, it is not entirely unlike the Underhive, although the air is cleaner, the water purer and the food probably fights back less.  There are tribes and clans, although we dwell in buildings and habs not unlike the ones down below... although ours are in a state of disrepair because we lost so much to the "Long Night" when we were out of the Emperor's sight.  Unmarried men who had passed their initiation into adulthood and had yet to find a wife usually lived dormitory style, while those with a family lived with their family.  It wasn't a bad life, but it was hard, although not as hard as the Underhive ."

Arl paused for a moment and glanced around the kitchen, nodding an acknowledgement to Orla.

" At some point, I suspect we will earn our current state of luxury, although I suspect it will take something extraordinary for the Interrogator to agree with that...  and, at some other point, I think we may need to sit our more... impulsive associates down and explain to them proper deportment... if only because I am tired of getting shot at. "

Arl stops for a moment and looks thoughtfully at the two acolytes in the kitchen, as if weighing something in his mind, then nods slightly.

" I may need some assistance dealing with what I have found in the seedier quarters of this Hive.  Apparently, not all the local Enforcers are wholly honest.  We may have to track down and squeeze one or two to see what they know about moving goods for Durchesse and Casmirre.  The name of one particular Enforcer has been coming up with annoying regularity.  Also, I will likely need some unobtrusive backup when it comes to dealing with my informant -- I don't expect that paying him for when the Rogue Trader is arriving will be trouble, but I suspect that when the time comes to deliver, he may balk. "
Bennosuke
 It was times like this that Marcella wished she was scary looking. To be equipped with the type of icy, resting b!tchface that frightened off most people from approaching could come in handy about now! Instead she looked about as menacing as a golden retriever.

"Look, kid, I'm really not having a great day. It's just a rug, okay? I'm going to roll it out on my floor later and it's going to look fabulous. Is it money you want? Will some thrones get you off my back?" she asked, clearly losing her patience as she held the rug in one arm and moved her free gloved band towards a pocket. 

The boy chuckles at Marcella, his cheeks flushing red as his thin lips twist in the most cocksure grin. " Oh ho, " he says as his laughter trails off, " I don't know which is funnier, you trying to convince me that there's nothing in that rug, or you trying to buy me off. " He takes a moment to smugly comb his hair back with a velvet gloved hand. He takes a step toward Marcella, placing both hands on his hips, and speaking loud enough so that now people are starting to watch, " Do you know who my father is? I have no need of money, and I doubt your hab costs as much as my weekly allowance. "

He goes so far as to reach a hand out for the rug, in an attempt to peel back the rolled layers to reveal what is bundled up underneath.

**************************************************  ****

Arl finds the Interrogator reviewing data slates in the compound's library, the night before they will be leaving for the upperhive. By now the room has been stripped of all its books, and all its bookshelves. The furniture too has been removed, leaving the room almost barren. Interrogator Ezekiel sits on the floor, his legs crossed under him, as he reviews a stack of data slates with total devotion of focus. It takes the Interrogator therefore nearly two minutes to realize he is being watched. He looks up from his current slate, his expression turning toward annoyance as he acknowledges the presence of the feral man from Kesh. " You've packed your room up already, right? " Ezekiel asks, his tone almost scolding, as he allows his gaze to return back to the data slate in his lap. Then with a sigh he will ask, " Is there something you wish to discuss? 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The boy chuckles at Marcella, his cheeks flushing red as his thin lips twist in the most cocksure grin. " Oh ho, " he says as his laughter trails off, " I don't know which is funnier, you trying to convince me that there's nothing in that rug, or you trying to buy me off. " He takes a moment to smugly comb his hair back with a velvet gloved hand. He takes a step toward Marcella, placing both hands on his hips, and speaking loud enough so that now people are starting to watch, " Do you know who my father is? I have no need of money, and I doubt your hab costs as much as my weekly allowance. "

He goes so far as to reach a hand out for the rug, in an attempt to peel back the rolled layers to reveal what is bundled up underneath.  
 


Marcella's normally friendly face had taken on a darker scowl. Though difficult to be physically intimidating, her glare and gritted teeth were warnings enough to those who knew what she was capable of - and it took every mote of willpower she had not to force something truly punishing on the pampered brat before her.

Building a swift psychic connection between her own mind and that of the boy, Marcella drew upon the Warp and funneled it through that bridge to impart her will onto the ridiculous urchin.

 "Walk home." 
 oOo 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl smiled and gently hugged Marc back.

" You are most welcome!  You have been a true ally and more than earned your place in our little cabal, not to mention making healing from my failure to duck easier, for which I must thank you...  As for Kesh, it is not entirely unlike the Underhive, although the air is cleaner, the water purer and the food probably fights back less.  There are tribes and clans, although we dwell in buildings and habs not unlike the ones down below... although ours are in a state of disrepair because we lost so much to the "Long Night" when we were out of the Emperor's sight.  Unmarried men who had passed their initiation into adulthood and had yet to find a wife usually lived dormitory style, while those with a family lived with their family.  It wasn't a bad life, but it was hard, although night as hard as the Underhive ."

Arl paused for a moment and glanced around the kitchen, nodding an acknowledgement to Orla.

" At some point, I suspect we will earn our current state of luxury, although I suspect it will take something extraordinary for the Interrogator to agree with that...  and, at some other point, I think we may need to sit our more... impulsive associates down and explain to them proper deportment... if only because I am tired of getting shot at. "

Arl stops for a moment and looks thoughtfully at the two acolytes in the kitchen, as if weighing something in his mind, then nods slightly.

" I may need some assistance dealing with what I have found in the seedier quarters of this Hive.  Apparently, not all the local Enforcers are wholly honest.  We may have to track down and squeeze one or two to see what they know about moving goods for Durchesse and Casmirre.  The name of one particular Enforcer has been coming up with annoying regularity.  Also, I will likely need some unobtrusive backup when it comes to dealing with my informant -- I don't expect that paying him for when the Rogue Trader is arriving will be trouble, but I suspect that when the time comes to deliver, he may balk. " 
 


The Psyker looked genuinely happy and grateful, a blush crossing her features as she smiled and looked down slightly like a bashful child receiving approval from an authority figure.

 "Thank you..."  she said sincerely, her voice trailing off shyly as if she didn't know what else to add. But then came the description of Kesh, and Marc was listening to every word.

 "Are there any records of this? I'd love to read more if possible." 

However, talk of a potentially corrupt enforcer brought Marcella into a more composed station, her shoulders squaring as she listened with obvious concern.

 "Do you think a quiet night-time visit and interrogation, see who he's dealing with? Or let him know he's been watched to scare him back in line?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Tada!"  
 

Orla looks at Marc somewhat indulgently.  'Just remember not to do that when someone's shooting back.'  She is attempting to make a sandwich with some filling that she doesn't recognise.


 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 " At some point, I suspect we will earn our current state of luxury, although I suspect it will take something extraordinary for the Interrogator to agree with that...  and, at some other point, I think we may need to sit our more... impulsive associates down and explain to them proper deportment... if only because I am tired of getting shot at. " 
 

 'Just enjoy it while it lasts.'  On not getting shot,  'I'd like to think it couldn't get any messier. Nothing personal, but if I end up in a gunfight I didn't want to be in in the first place I get tempted to just slip out the back and find a place to hide out until it's all over. I know there's stakes here and all but me taking a bullet isn't going to help much with that.' 

On the Enforcer,  'It would be my pleasure to threaten an Enforcer with you all. Trouble would be getting them alone though. They know that people like me don't like them so they like to travel in packs.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla looks at Marc somewhat indulgently.  'Just remember not to do that when someone's shooting back.'  She is attempting to make a sandwich with some filling that she doesn't recognise.

 'Just enjoy it while it lasts.'  On not getting shot,  'I'd like to think it couldn't get any messier. Nothing personal, but if I end up in a gunfight I didn't want to be in in the first place I get tempted to just slip out the back and find a place to hide out until it's all over. I know there's stakes here and all but me taking a bullet isn't going to help much with that.'  
 

Marcella smirked.

 "That bastard shot me twice,"  she said quietly, the wounds on her chest long since healed up.

 "I've never been shot before! It felt like a hot knife into my lungs. But I had to stay there or that bomb would've killed us all and attracted the arbiters. I really have to thank my dealer, that flak coat was worth every throne. He said he wants to fit the customer to the product because he wants repeat business, well, he's gunna get it, hehe,"  the Psyker giggled into her palm.

Marcella looked at Orla, clearly wanting to ask something but not knowing how to put it.

 "Have you ever been shot before? What was the Underhive like to grow up in? Remember those three kids we interrogated? Did you live like that?" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Arl finds the Interrogator reviewing data slates in the compound's library, the night before they will be leaving for the upperhive. By now the room has been stripped of all its books, and all its bookshelves. The furniture too has been removed, leaving the room almost barren. Interrogator Ezekiel sits on the floor, his legs crossed under him, as he reviews a stack of data slates with total devotion of focus. It takes the Interrogator therefore nearly two minutes to realize he is being watched. He looks up from his current slate, his expression turning toward annoyance as he acknowledges the presence of the feral man from Kesh. " You've packed your room up already, right? " Ezekiel asks, his tone almost scolding, as he allows his gaze to return back to the data slate in his lap. Then with a sigh he will ask, " Is there something you wish to discuss?  
 

Arl looks not *quite* offended at the comment about his room but replies in a deceptively mild tone " My people are used to doing far more with far less, sir.  As for wishing to discuss something, I have a need for some resources, the better to keep my informant in the game where the Rogue Trader is concerned, as he has indicated that the Rogue Trader is enroute.  While I have enough in my personal funds to keep him on the line, I lack the wherewithal to make the final payment to get aboard the vessel.  I believe that about fifty thrones, preferably in small denominations so as to maintain certain appearances, would address the need.  Also, another investigation of the criminal fraternities of this hive may have borne some fruit.  I applied my knowledge of hunting to the current case, trying to track how the Cold Trade artifacts get from the docks to the Underhive - just as deer follow game trails, the goods probably have regular routes.  I have come to the conclusion that at least some of the local Enforcers are turning a blind eye to contraband, at a minimum.  There is one officer in particular, an Officer Kant, whose name keeps being mentioned as being a facilitator of the movement of these goods.  While I have nothing "hard" to hold over his head at the moment, his name comes up too often to be solely coincidence... I think that, properly cultivated, Officer Kant could willingly become a useful source of information... alternately, we could simply pluck him like a ploin fruit and squeeze him to see what juice comes out. "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 The Psyker looked genuinely happy and grateful, a blush crossing her features as she smiled and looked down slightly like a bashful child receiving approval from an authority figure.

 "Thank you..."  she said sincerely, her voice trailing off shyly as if she didn't know what else to add. But then came the description of Kesh, and Marc was listening to every word.

 "Are there any records of this? I'd love to read more if possible." 

However, talk of a potentially corrupt enforcer brought Marcella into a more composed station, her shoulders squaring as she listened with obvious concern.

 "Do you think a quiet night-time visit and interrogation, see who he's dealing with? Or let him know he's been watched to scare him back in line?"  
 

" I don't know if there is much in the way of written records that would actually be interesting to read -- I mean, there is certainly the usual Administratum reports somewhere, but I didn't learn to read until I joined the Inquisition, which was far more interested in how well I could hunt than in recording the oral traditions of my people.  As for our Enforcer, I think that I will bring this to the Interrogator's attention and see what he wishes done.  While I certainly have some ideas, the Interrogator may have a better way to address this opportunity.  While I would hesitate to tell the Interrogator what we should do, I think that Officer Kant should be cultivated as a resource while he is useful to our mission.  Once he has demonstrated his usefulness, he should be maintained as a resource.  Once he has served the Emperor, however... "  Arl's voice trails off of a moment, then quickly picks back up.  " He should not get a "pass" for his part in this heresy, but much as Ser Drimmle was useful, at least until he wasn't, I suspect that Officer Kant will have a variety of uses in our mission against Lord Durchesse. "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Have you ever been shot before? What was the Underhive like to grow up in? Remember those three kids we interrogated? Did you live like that?"  
 

Orla doesn't mind mind being asked.  'Been winged a couple of times. And there was that time we robbed the back of Callahan's store and I took a bullet in the leg at fifty paces. Seemed like a hell of a shot at the time but now I think he was just lucky. Or the Emperor was trying to tell me something.'  She doesn't sound particularly guilty about having admitted to committing a crime.  'Everyone says there are worse places to be shot so I reckon I did alright there.' 

As for life in the Underhive,  'I was never that pathetic. I was in the orpanage until I was 12 or so. It wasn't a nice place to live but it was better then living on the streets. After that I had Raptore to look after me. Some of the girls had it a lot worse though from what I've heard.' 

On Officer Kant,  'If you need him for something you could always threaten to tell his mates in the Enforcers if he doesn't do as he's told. Assuming they aren't all just as bad.' 
Bennosuke
 Marcella's normally friendly face had taken on a darker scowl. Though difficult to be physically intimidating, her glare and gritted teeth were warnings enough to those who knew what she was capable of - and it took every mote of willpower she had not to force something truly punishing on the pampered brat before her.

Building a swift psychic connection between her own mind and that of the boy, Marcella drew upon the Warp and funneled it through that bridge to impart her will onto the ridiculous urchin.

"Walk home." 

The boy's eyes go wide for a moment, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Then with a sudden scowl, he crosses his arms over his chest and says loudly, " What did you just say to me? " His voice reaches a girlish pitch, cracking at the end on "me". Now everyone on the street is paying attention to their exchange... even those that are pretending not to.

Down the block even, Marcella catches site of a local enforcer, wearing a protective helmet, and flak vest over his uniform. Hearing the exchange, he is now marching down the block towards them carrying a stub automatic in both arms to his chest.

" Nobody talks to ME like that, " the boy shouts, his face now turning red all over.

**************************************************  *************

As Arl speaks, the Interrogator slowly begins to look up from his work, giving the feral man his undivided attention, his expression turning from cold to one of interest. When he has heard all the information, Ezekiel sighs and then says, " Do we have reason to believe he is specifically running Lord Durchesse? " He clicks his teeth and sighs again. " I suppose a small degree of corruption within the local Enforcers is unavoidable, " he says slowly, " but the question is just what goods is he running and to what end? I suppose I can pull Kant's file, but it's only going to be worth it if this is salient to our case. " He studies Arl for a long moment, waiting to hear the man's thoughts.

**************************************************  ****************

(OOC: As mentioned in the other thread, please keep the group RP scene up)

Later, Interrogator Ezekiel finally calls the acolytes together in a room he calls "his office". It's a spacious workspace, exotically furnished with paintings and painted vases in artistic styles from other worlds and Imperial Cultures. Book shelves line one wall of the space, covered in leather bound tomes and data slates alike. A large rectangular desk sits by an inert fireplace, where Ezekiel sits. There are no other chairs in the room, so the group is forced to stand around the man.

" I hope you have all gotten settled now, " Ezekiel says, a rather smug grin on his face, " and are finding your new accommodations to your likings.  He pauses, though not to await replies, rather it appears to build anticipation. Finally the Interrogator continues, " I have updated our lord, Inquisitor Zarkov on our progress so far. He is pleased to hear that we are zeroing in on Lord Durchesse, and I suspect we may find more resources at our disposal as this investigation continues. " Ezekiel pauses again, allowing the group a moment to bask in the praise and good news, then his expression darkens. " However, as we proceed, we will need to do so with greater caution. Lord Durchesse and his allies are very very powerful, and so I MUST emphasize that subtlety and subterfuge are going to be our greatest armor going forward. You will certainly need to use more than you have so far. If Durchesse becomes wise to us, he will use all of his resources to impede us, and that may halt our progress in its tracks. " The Interrogator's face screws up as if he had tasted a sour grape. " Scum like Durchesse will use their money and their power in the Imperium to protect their evil actions, " he says coldly, " And if we don't have all the evidence we need if and when this happens, it could make even an Inquisitor's job far more difficult. We are a scalpel here, not a chain sword. Do you understand? "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 As Arl speaks, the Interrogator slowly begins to look up from his work, giving the feral man his undivided attention, his expression turning from cold to one of interest. When he has heard all the information, Ezekiel sighs and then says, " Do we have reason to believe he is specifically running Lord Durchesse? " He clicks his teeth and sighs again. " I suppose a small degree of corruption within the local Enforcers is unavoidable, " he says slowly, " but the question is just what goods is he running and to what end? I suppose I can pull Kant's file, but it's only going to be worth it if this is salient to our case. " He studies Arl for a long moment, waiting to hear the man's thoughts. 
 

Arl clears his throat and then speaks.

" The information is not bulletproof, but the general consensus among my sources is that Kant is on Half-Face's payroll.  Now, we know that Half-Face has been receiving money and heretical weapons from the upper hive.  He was expecting Credit Guild officials when we accidentally were escorted to meet with his by some of his lesser flunkies.  He went so far as to state that we weren't the Guilders he was expecting and had us escorted out.  Now, the goods have to go from the docks to the Underhive.  What better escort for contraband than an Enforcer squad?  What other service could a mid-hive enforcer be providing to a underhive boss that would be worth paying him for?  If we follow the flow of the xenos artifacts from the docks to the underhive and the flow of money from buyer to seller, we're likely to find out middlemen in the process.  To catch big fish, you need to have little fish for bait.  

**************************************************  ****************


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 (OOC: As mentioned in the other thread, please keep the group RP scene up)

Later, Interrogator Ezekiel finally calls the acolytes together in a room he calls "his office". It's a spacious workspace, exotically furnished with paintings and painted vases in artistic styles from other worlds and Imperial Cultures. Book shelves line one wall of the space, covered in leather bound tomes and data slates alike. A large rectangular desk sits by an inert fireplace, where Ezekiel sits. There are no other chairs in the room, so the group is forced to stand around the man.

" I hope you have all gotten settled now, " Ezekiel says, a rather smug grin on his face, " and are finding your new accommodations to your likings.  He pauses, though not to await replies, rather it appears to build anticipation. Finally the Interrogator continues, " I have updated our lord, Inquisitor Zarkov on our progress so far. He is pleased to hear that we are zeroing in on Lord Durchesse, and I suspect we may find more resources at our disposal as this investigation continues. " Ezekiel pauses again, allowing the group a moment to bask in the praise and good news, then his expression darkens. " However, as we proceed, we will need to do so with greater caution. Lord Durchesse and his allies are very very powerful, and so I MUST emphasize that subtlety and subterfuge are going to be our greatest armor going forward. You will certainly need to use more than you have so far. If Durchesse becomes wise to us, he will use all of his resources to impede us, and that may halt our progress in its tracks. " The Interrogator's face screws up as if he had tasted a sour grape. " Scum like Durchesse will use their money and their power in the Imperium to protect their evil actions, " he says coldly, " And if we don't have all the evidence we need if and when this happens, it could make even an Inquisitor's job far more difficult. We are a scalpel here, not a chain sword. Do you understand? " 
 

Arl stands up straight in the fashion he learned in the Imperial Guard, in a sort of agressive parade rest.  He kept his eyes focused on Ezekiel and listened to his speech, keeping his face impassive until the Interrogator finished his speech, then nodded curtly.
Bennosuke
Ezekiel raises an eyebrow at Arl and his assertions. " I thought the xenos goods were being picked up from the toxic wastes outside of the hive by the gangers, and then transported up to Upperhive by Drimmle's Credit Guild cronies. That was at least what your  colleagues  had asserted. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The boy's eyes go wide for a moment, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Then with a sudden scowl, he crosses his arms over his chest and says loudly, " What did you just say to me? " His voice reaches a girlish pitch, cracking at the end on "me". Now everyone on the street is paying attention to their exchange... even those that are pretending not to.

Down the block even, Marcella catches site of a local enforcer, wearing a protective helmet, and flak vest over his uniform. Hearing the exchange, he is now marching down the block towards them carrying a stub automatic in both arms to his chest.

" Nobody talks to ME like that, " the boy shouts, his face now turning red all over. 
 

 "I just did, you little fraking creep!"  Marcella hissed, the stress and anger of the day bubbling up into a narrow-eyed sneer. The Psyker wanted badly, oh so badly, do draw her autopistol up to her hip and empty the magazine into the little bastards chest, sloppy red giblets volcanoing and all. How  dare  this punk prevent her from bringing this item back to its proper location? The journey of this ward through the seedy underworld, passing through so many hands that should be held liable for cold trade heresy, its return to justice in sight, only for this punk to get in the way with his powdered face and wig.

Collecting her mental power, Marcella forced it through the tunnel she'd formed with the boys mind; her will crushing down upon its synapses and blacking out his own personal agency to make way for the following, simple but extensive command:

 "Now  go home , you  rude  little boy!" 

The light behind the cretins eyes abruptly dimmed as if his head had been emptied, his will scooped out, and in its place poured the desires of another. Blank of expression and silent in sound, the boys body took a step back, pivoted on the spot and moved around to go back the way Marcella had came.

And that's when she spotted the enforcer.

 "Frak!"  Marcella hissed under her breath, turning around immediately and regaining her locomotion. This time her shorter stature advantaged her retreat from notice, as she easily disappeared into the throngs of people around them. Still cradling that rug-wrapped Ward, Marcella kept her face down as she pushed her way through the crowds, her arms about her precious item as if she were holding close to her chest her own newborn.

This  thing . This ward. Who knew where Drimmle had gotten it from, but his possession of it was testimony to an underworld trade in such items that the public should never have access to, Marcella was convinced of that. But as she shuffled through the crowds at the station, hoping her companions had not gone too far ahead of her, she tackled the very real and growing possibility that she wouldn't be able to bring it back with her to the Midhive.

I mean...a  rug ? Seriously? She couldn't have found a dufflebag or something? The ward bulged the scrolled-up carpet something shocking, and frankly it was a miracle that it was only that inquisitive little sh*t had so far noticed - and questioned her. Pursing her lips, exhaling, not wanting to do what she knew she had to do, Marcella sifted through the crowds of people as announcements echoed overhead about arriving and departing trains, one of which was hers. She knew she had to hurry. As the skyline of the Upper Spire was visible through railing and guest seating, Marcella moved to an observatory platform where guests could stand about, mill, talk, enjoy a drink and speak with their friends while waiting the arrival of their train. The area was cooler, owing to the elevation of the Upper Spire and exposure to the atmosphere within, as no one seemed to notice the short girl surreptitiously enter, head down, and make a beeline towards a corner railing. Drawing herself up to that ledge, Marcella felt a blast of cool air across her features that pushed her messy bob of blonde hair about, as she peered out at the forest of towers and buildings that stretched down into the fog of the lower levels, while their elevation climbed ever higher towards the only clean atmosphere left on the planet. Lines of traffic hung between the canyons of this steel-and-glass mountainous region, with enormous statues of Imperial heroes standing hundreds of meters high in undimmed glory in the midst of Upper Hive daily activity.

Laying the carpet horizontally on the railing before her, her body obscuring any other viewers, Marcella snuck a look over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, before she held the available two corners of the rug and pushed. The weight of the ward became even more apparent as it pressed against the carpet, now free from the Psykers protective grip, the hideous thing, an archaic dial tethered to a large gold chain, unfurled and tumbled out like some little metal monster finally born into the world, only to plummet and fall, down, down, down through the hundreds, thousands, of story's of Upper Spire towers to disappear out of view into the fog far, far below. Mathematics told her that it would reach peak velocity after seven floors, gathering enough momentum to combine with its weight to put a massive dint into whatever it hit - and shatter into into thousands of little pieces when it did os.

Inhaling, pursing her lips, uttering a soft curse on that wretched boy, Marcella turned around - only to meet the gaze of the enforcer from earlier.

 "Is everything alright, miss?"  half-accusation, half-suspicion.

Blinking once, twice, Marcella drew up both of her hands to reveal the exotic rug, now empty and hanging between her grip.

 "Just airing out my carpet, officer." 

An awkward pause.

 "Pardon me, officer, but I have to make my train, I don't want to miss it..."  she offered, rolling the carpet up with practiced skill as she moved to step past and aside the enforcer, to make her way to catch up with the others.

 oOo 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla doesn't mind mind being asked.  'Been winged a couple of times. And there was that time we robbed the back of Callahan's store and I took a bullet in the leg at fifty paces. Seemed like a hell of a shot at the time but now I think he was just lucky. Or the Emperor was trying to tell me something.'  She doesn't sound particularly guilty about having admitted to committing a crime.  'Everyone says there are worse places to be shot so I reckon I did alright there.' 

As for life in the Underhive,  'I was never that pathetic. I was in the orpanage until I was 12 or so. It wasn't a nice place to live but it was better then living on the streets. After that I had Raptore to look after me. Some of the girls had it a lot worse though from what I've heard.'  
 

Marcella smirked.

 "What did you steal? What was worth a bullet to the leg?" 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Later, Interrogator Ezekiel finally calls the acolytes together in a room he calls "his office". It's a spacious workspace, exotically furnished with paintings and painted vases in artistic styles from other worlds and Imperial Cultures. Book shelves line one wall of the space, covered in leather bound tomes and data slates alike. A large rectangular desk sits by an inert fireplace, where Ezekiel sits. There are no other chairs in the room, so the group is forced to stand around the man.

" I hope you have all gotten settled now, " Ezekiel says, a rather smug grin on his face, " and are finding your new accommodations to your likings.  He pauses, though not to await replies, rather it appears to build anticipation. Finally the Interrogator continues, " I have updated our lord, Inquisitor Zarkov on our progress so far. He is pleased to hear that we are zeroing in on Lord Durchesse, and I suspect we may find more resources at our disposal as this investigation continues. " Ezekiel pauses again, allowing the group a moment to bask in the praise and good news, then his expression darkens. " However, as we proceed, we will need to do so with greater caution. Lord Durchesse and his allies are very very powerful, and so I MUST emphasize that subtlety and subterfuge are going to be our greatest armor going forward. You will certainly need to use more than you have so far. If Durchesse becomes wise to us, he will use all of his resources to impede us, and that may halt our progress in its tracks. " The Interrogator's face screws up as if he had tasted a sour grape. " Scum like Durchesse will use their money and their power in the Imperium to protect their evil actions, " he says coldly, " And if we don't have all the evidence we need if and when this happens, it could make even an Inquisitor's job far more difficult. We are a scalpel here, not a chain sword. Do you understand? " 
 


Marcella stood in silence. It had been a week or so since the incident at Drimmles, and the Psyker was looking forward to learning what Hound had uncovered from the documents they had acquired. Meanwhile, she had healed and cleaned up rather nicely; her black coveralls form-fitting, and punctuated by her belt, a holster on each of her thighs - one carrying the revolver Arl had gifted her and the other her new Armsman-10 semi-auto pistol - and the black, hard rubber soled boots she wore. The collar accentuated her trim neck, while her hair had been more neatly washed and combed. She looked much more presentable than the shot-up, exhausted girl that had stumbled home weeks ago.

Much like Arl, Marc was in a receptive pose, her hands behind her back, shoulders square. She wasn't petty or immature enough to sulk just because the Interrogator had been less than kind in weeks past.

For now, she remained quiet, saying only  "yes Sir,"  with a terse nod.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel raises an eyebrow at Arl and his assertions. " I thought the xenos goods were being picked up from the toxic wastes outside of the hive by the gangers, and then transported up to Upperhive by Drimmle's Credit Guild cronies. That was at least what your  colleagues  had asserted. " 
 

Arl paused for a moment to consider his words carefully before he replied.

" Perhaps I have the flow backwards, sir.  If the goods are coming in through the Underhive as we originally surmised, they have to be smuggled upwards and would necessitate Officer Kant's involvement all the more, since the Enforcers exist to keep the lower level of the Hive from coming upwards.  Alternately, since the wasteland route has proved somewhat problematic, what with one of the smugglers losing both an expensive customized sidearm and the hand that was holding it, perhaps they have modified their smuggling routes to reduce the threat of injury to the ring's principal members.  Either way, I believe that Officer Kant has been subverted by this Cold Trade cabal. "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marcella smirked.

 "What did you steal? What was worth a bullet to the leg?"  
 

 'Chest freezer. A big one.'  Orla grinned at her memory of the weight of it.  'It took two of us to carry it out of there. If you know the right people you can get a lot of thrones for the parts. And the food in there wasn't bad either. Didn't usually eat that well until I started coming up to the midhive.' 
Bennosuke
 Arl paused for a moment to consider his words carefully before he replied.

"Perhaps I have the flow backwards, sir. If the goods are coming in through the Underhive as we originally surmised, they have to be smuggled upwards and would necessitate Officer Kant's involvement all the more, since the Enforcers exist to keep the lower level of the Hive from coming upwards. Alternately, since the wasteland route has proved somewhat problematic, what with one of the smugglers losing both an expensive customized sidearm and the hand that was holding it, perhaps they have modified their smuggling routes to reduce the threat of injury to the ring's principal members. Either way, I believe that Officer Kant has been subverted by this Cold Trade cabal." 

The Interrogator's face relaxes a little. He takes a deep breath in and sighs. He says almost softly, " Then I will have Officer Kant's file pulled, and you have my permission to investigate his dealings further. Though I must again emphasize the need for discretion in all things moving forward. " His gaze shifts from Arl, to his dataslate, then back to Arl again. Another sigh, " Was there anything else you wished to discuss then? "


**************************************************  **********

Pleased with response so far, Interrogator Ezekiel draws his attention to Arl and says, " And I've pulled the file of Officer Kant, as we discussed. Your work continues to impress. " He pull a small dataslate from his desk, and offers it up to Arl.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Chest freezer. A big one.'  Orla grinned at her memory of the weight of it.  'It took two of us to carry it out of there. If you know the right people you can get a lot of thrones for the parts. And the food in there wasn't bad either. Didn't usually eat that well until I started coming up to the midhive.'  
 

Marc's mouth was partially open in an amused 'No way!' expression.

 "You got shot for a fridge?"  she giggled gently, bringing one hand up to her mouth to cover it as she did so.

The Psyker looked at Arl, then at Orla. Holding a hand up,  "you two had wild child-hoods, haha. Got shot for a fridge, and grew up around trees and rain,"  she laughed again, taking a sip of the coffee brew that had finally cooled enough to drink.

Marcella thought briefly, a question coming to mind, one she seemed cautious to answer.

 "Was it ever, like... quiet  where you grew up? Like complete silence?"  she asked them both.


 oOo 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pleased with response so far, Interrogator Ezekiel draws his attention to Arl and says, " And I've pulled the file of Officer Kant, as we discussed. Your work continues to impress. " He pull a small dataslate from his desk, and offers it up to Arl. 
 


Marcella wore a small smile as she side-ways glanced over at Arl during the Interrogators compliment. If she could have given him a little thumbs up, she would have. She would have to ask him how to do that old 'good ol' fashioned detective work' sometime.

 "Sir, if I may?"  Marcella's soft voice spoke up.

 "Were there any leads ascertained or further illumination on the conspiracy granted by the documents Drimmle provided?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marc's mouth was partially open in an amused 'No way!' expression.

 "You got shot for a fridge?"  she giggled gently, bringing one hand up to her mouth to cover it as she did so.

The Psyker looked at Arl, then at Orla. Holding a hand up,  "you two had wild child-hoods, haha. Got shot for a fridge, and grew up around trees and rain,"  she laughed again, taking a sip of the coffee brew that had finally cooled enough to drink. 
 

 'There are worse things to get shot for then a meal. And are you telling me you never took something that doesn't belong to you...when you were up there?'  Orla only has a rough idea about what growing up on a space station might have been like.


--------------------------------------------------------

Orla will smirk at the comment about the accomodations.  Oh yeah, if you could get me something bigger that would be grand.  By her standards it was already virtually a palace.

To the comment about subtlety she'll nod.  'I'd like as few people as possible to know who I am. In an ideal world obviously.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

I may have forgot to reply to the second part.
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'There are worse things to get shot for then a meal. And are you telling me you never took something that doesn't belong to you...when you were up there?'  Orla only has a rough idea about what growing up on a space station might have been like. 
 


Marcella shook her head; a short little oscillation with an amused face as if the very thought was impossible.

 "No, no no, you didn't want to be caught stealing, hehe. The  Sevastopol  is a Manufactoria; we built weapons and ordnance, mostly bolt shells for the Adeptus Astartes and Sororitas. Every gram of gunpowder. Every imported can of food. Everything is recorded, and on a space station you don't have many places to go, very few open spaces, mostly just large, long corridors. Bolt shells aren't that big, you can fit a few in your pocket easy enough, but each one is worth almost a months wages for the lowest worker if they tried smuggling them off the station, so security check points are everywhere. Every inch of space is utilised in some way, and everything you can't recycle needs to be imported, so everything on board is even more valuable. Get caught stealing, which is highly likely, and it's a hanging offence. Some of the other kids and I would play in the pipes, and we'd catch rats for the bounties..."  Marc smiled, her eyes gazing off as if seeing her memories in real time, taking another sip of her coffee.  "The quiet, open spaces you guys have down here is incredible. The first thing I noticed was the quiet. No  hum  of the ships engines deep in the craft keeping everything powdered, or the machines in the factories. No white noise; just silence." 
Haval
 'Sounds like a smaller Hive then. Maybe if you had to bring it down here and everyone had to fend for themselves. You only get hung if the wrong people catch you. There's not enough Enforcers to be everywhere at once.' 
BananaPhone
Marc pursed her lips in thought.  "Hmm, never thought of it like a mini-Hive before. Kinda: but I think I had the best view of all from the observation decks!"  The Psyker beamed with her bright smile,  "but...at least in the Hive, a crack in the wall doesn't turn into a hull-breach where we all get blown into space..." 
 "How come though, if you can regularly smuggle yourself into the Mid-Hive: why not do it for good? Sell some things, sneak into the Midhive and open a bar in a seedier area or something? You know..."  Marc trailed off, blushing slightly, shyly biting her bottom lip,  "...find some nice guy to settle with? Seems like an easy life to me...has to be better than living until you're 40 in the Underhive?" 
Bennosuke
 Marcella wore a small smile as she side-ways glanced over at Arl during the Interrogators compliment. If she could have given him a little thumbs up, she would have. She would have to ask him how to do that old 'good ol' fashioned detective work' sometime.

"Sir, if I may?" Marcella's soft voice spoke up.

"Were there any leads ascertained or further illumination on the conspiracy granted by the documents Drimmle provided?" 

Marcella's question draws a wry smile across the Interrogator's face. " I was getting to that, " he says with a chuckle, apparently in nearly the best humor the group has seen him in yet. After a quick nod, Ezekiel continues, " I don't know exactly what you asked of Ser Drimmle, but the documents include the official requests and reports of the back and forth trips made by a team of Credit Guilders down to the Underhive, performed on behalf of Lord Durchesse. There is proof of funding, and receipts of money transfers. " He pauses, allowing this to sink in, and then continues further. " There is evidence that items were brought back up from the Underhive, though the documents are incredibly vague, likely by intention. They reference 'parcels', 'items of trade', and 'boxes' that were returned from the underhive as part of these dealings, with one event clearly being related to the most recent transport of the xenos artifacts, based on documented time, etcetera. Based on the amount of money Durchesse has been throwing around, we know that he is very, very wealthy, though we knew this before. There are also receipts and documents of trade relating to the Rogue Trader Cassmire, whose expeditions he has been funding. "

Interrogator Ezekiel pauses again, long enough to take a big dramatic sigh before summarizing, " So in summary, you now have documented proof of activities you already knew were happening... in case you planned on taking this to the Arbites. " His smirk returns as one eyebrow raises, though this time the expression is filled with a mocking sort of mirth.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Interrogator Ezekiel pauses again, long enough to take a big dramatic sigh before summarizing, "So in summary, you now have documented proof of activities you already knew were happening... in case you planned on taking this to the Arbites." His smirk returns as one eyebrow raises, though this time the expression is filled with a mocking sort of mirth. 
 


Marcella had listened intently, eager to hear about any possible next leads, whether they be names or shell companies or players in the conspiracy they had not heard of yet. Instead it was as Izekiel said: documented proof of what they already knew. That was, assuming, that Izekiel was as thorough and imaginative as she trusted Hound would be. The Interrogators foppish mannerism and haughty demeanor did little to shore up Marcella's crumbling opinion of the man.

Nevertheless, the news made the Psyker smile and nod.

 "As you said Sir, building a case against a noble of Durchess' calibre requires considerable evidence. It's not what you know, it's what you can prove, and this is a pillar in the case." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 




Marcella had listened intently, eager to hear about any possible next leads, whether they be names or shell companies or players in the conspiracy they had not heard of yet. Instead it was as Izekiel said: documented proof of what they already knew. That was, assuming, that Izekiel was as thorough and imaginative as she trusted Hound would be. The Interrogators foppish mannerism and haughty demeanor did little to shore up Marcella's crumbling opinion of the man.

Nevertheless, the news made the Psyker smile and nod.

 "As you said Sir, building a case against a noble of Durchess' calibre requires considerable evidence. It's not what you know, it's what you can prove, and this is a pillar in the case."  
 

Arl suppressed a smile at Marcella's riposte, reducing it to a brief facial tic, knowing that the Psyker's comment was both foolish and wise at the same time.
Bennosuke
Marcella's response causes the Interrogator to chuckle heartily. Recovering from his shock of humor, Ezekiel gives a shrug and says, " Our office does not HAVE to provide proof to anyone. If my Lord wished, he could summon hellfire on Durchesse right now. However, if we were to do so we would lose out on the guarantee of finding out to what end Durchesse is amassing xenos weapons, and whom he might be working with. This my child, is what we are working towards. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella was sceptical of this explanation. If it was that easy then the Inquisition would've abducted Durchess in the night and interrogated him to the point of satisfying these questions. Heck, she herself was a proven Telepath now, so why not get her and Durchess alone in an interrogation room for an afternoon? Even if such a thing was unnecessary, Durchess and Drimmle were the head and finances of the operation, cut them out and the trafficking operation would wither on the vine with no demand and no funding, like a tree with no roots, surely?

Then a spike of doubt shot in - who was she kidding? She's in the Inquisition for half a year and she's suddenly Columbo? A few months ago she was a nerd in a tower playing with her chemistry set and moving coins with her mind, now she thinks she knows better than seasoned investigators? Girl come'on, let it go, you think the Inquisitor recruited for your winning personality? Because of your terrible guitar-playing abilities that sound like cats screwing? Your head is a portal to a realm of psychic maelstroms and demons, girl. He brought you on board to read minds, advise on warp stuff, brew some potions, heal some wounds and do the grisly side of Inquisitorial work no one else would, learn your place girl, you're no  investigator , the self-critical thoughts rolled around in Marcellas head.

The psyker blinked, unaware that a few long, awkward silent moments had passed. Her large, brown eyes swiveling in her young face to and fro once before locking back onto the Interrogator, Marcella smiled and nodded in acknowledgement,  "Understood, Sir." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marc pursed her lips in thought.  "Hmm, never thought of it like a mini-Hive before. Kinda: but I think I had the best view of all from the observation decks!"  The Psyker beamed with her bright smile,  "but...at least in the Hive, a crack in the wall doesn't turn into a hull-breach where we all get blown into space..." 
 "How come though, if you can regularly smuggle yourself into the Mid-Hive: why not do it for good? Sell some things, sneak into the Midhive and open a bar in a seedier area or something? You know..."  Marc trailed off, blushing slightly, shyly biting her bottom lip,  "...find some nice guy to settle with? Seems like an easy life to me...has to be better than living until you're 40 in the Underhive?"  
 

 'Well air or not, I don't really want to go outside the Hive either. From what I've heard it seems like a hard way to live.'  On the second point Orla only grinned at Marcella's embarrassment.  'You got someone in mind?' 

----------------------------------


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Interrogator Ezekiel pauses again, long enough to take a big dramatic sigh before summarizing, " So in summary, you now have documented proof of activities you already knew were happening... in case you planned on taking this to the Arbites. " His smirk returns as one eyebrow raises, though this time the expression is filled with a mocking sort of mirth. 
 

 'So the throwing him into a hole comes later then.'  From what Orla had heard neither the Arbites or the Inquisition actually needed proof if they were suspicious enough. Even a supposedly powerful noble was not immune to their reach. Getting what they needed from him first made sense.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'There are worse things to get shot for then a meal. And are you telling me you never took something that doesn't belong to you...when you were up there?'  Orla only has a rough idea about what growing up on a space station might have been like. 
 

Arl smiled, not unkindly.  " There are far worse things than getting shot for trying to get a meal... On Kesh, you could become a meal for what you were shooting at!  Kesh's ruins had predators much nastier than ryders.  Then again, the beasts on Kesh and the ryders are not too awful, compared to some other predators.  At least they're honest about what they want. "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Interrogator's face relaxes a little. He takes a deep breath in and sighs. He says almost softly, " Then I will have Officer Kant's file pulled, and you have my permission to investigate his dealings further. Though I must again emphasize the need for discretion in all things moving forward. " His gaze shifts from Arl, to his dataslate, then back to Arl again. Another sigh, " Was there anything else you wished to discuss then? " 
 

Arl kept his face impassive, not wishing to betray his annoyance.  " M'lord, I do not have anything else to bring to you that hasn't already been disclosed in our debriefing.  I will be discrete in my actions where our mission is concerned. "

With that, Arl sketched a small bow and began to ponder how to address this new opportunity.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 



Marc's mouth was partially open in an amused 'No way!' expression.

 "You got shot for a fridge?"  she giggled gently, bringing one hand up to her mouth to cover it as she did so.

The Psyker looked at Arl, then at Orla. Holding a hand up,  "you two had wild child-hoods, haha. Got shot for a fridge, and grew up around trees and rain,"  she laughed again, taking a sip of the coffee brew that had finally cooled enough to drink.

Marcella thought briefly, a question coming to mind, one she seemed cautious to answer.

 "Was it ever, like... quiet  where you grew up? Like complete silence?"  she asked them both. 
 

Arl gave a small laugh.  " Silence?  Almost never.  Plenty of quiet?  Certainly.  On Kesh, there was far more life than in the Hive, although most of it wasn't human -- beasts, mostly, and they all made noise of a sort, some of it was even pleasant compared to the roar of the Hive.  Silence was rare. 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl gave a small laugh.  " Silence?  Almost never.  Plenty of quiet?  Certainly.  On Kesh, there was far more life than in the Hive, although most of it wasn't human -- beasts, mostly, and they all made noise of a sort, some of it was even pleasant compared to the roar of the Hive.  Silence was rare.  
 

The Psyker listened, her large brown eyes open as her imagination pictured it all. A land filled with animals? And dangerous ones too!

 "Oh - did you have any as pets?!"  she asks excitedly.


 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Well air or not, I don't really want to go outside the Hive either. From what I've heard it seems like a hard way to live.'  On the second point Orla only grinned at Marcella's embarrassment.  'You got someone in mind?'  
 

A red blush went across Marcella's face as she used her cupped palms to cover her mouth, jaw and nose, peering over fingertips at Orla, shaking her head gently.  "No..."  mumbled into her fingers as she giggle-snickered into her hands.

 "I mean...yeah, one guy, maybe. He's like really old though, he's almost thirty. He's a pyromancer at the Cathedral...they're very now, now now,"  she brought her hands away so that she could click her fingers to emphasize each  'now!' .

 "He considers himself a real ladies man. He's a bit of a dog though, from what I've heard, hehe"  she giggled, finding it more funny than offensive, that blush returning as she shook her head,  "so I don't guarantee he'll stick around that long. Always on the move. Now, now, now." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl smiled, not unkindly.  " There are far worse things than getting shot for trying to get a meal... On Kesh, you could become a meal for what you were shooting at!  Kesh's ruins had predators much nastier than ryders.  Then again, the beasts on Kesh and the ryders are not too awful, compared to some other predators.  At least they're honest about what they want. " 
 

Orla agrees,  'A meal and not getting eaten. I can relate to that.' 

 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 A red blush went across Marcella's face as she used her cupped palms to cover her mouth, jaw and nose, peering over fingertips at Orla, shaking her head gently.  "No..."  mumbled into her fingers as she giggle-snickered into her hands.

 "I mean...yeah, one guy, maybe. He's like really old though, he's almost thirty. He's a pyromancer at the Cathedral...they're very now, now now,"  she brought her hands away so that she could click her fingers to emphasize each  'now!' .

 "He considers himself a real ladies man. He's a bit of a dog though, from what I've heard, hehe"  she giggled, finding it more funny than offensive, that blush returning as she shook her head,  "so I don't guarantee he'll stick around that long. Always on the move. Now, now, now."  
 

Orla tries not to chuckle. She considered that getting into a relationship with a psyker might be dangerous, but when they were both psykers maybe they nothing to worry about from the other.  'That can still be fun sometimes if you know what you're getting into. Just remember that you're using him as well and don't go getting feelings.'  Orla considered whether Marcella was likely to be able to do that.  'If he upsets you anyway maybe we can arrest him.' 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Interrogator Ezekiel pauses again, long enough to take a big dramatic sigh before summarizing, " So in summary, you now have documented proof of activities you already knew were happening... in case you planned on taking this to the Arbites. " His smirk returns as one eyebrow raises, though this time the expression is filled with a mocking sort of mirth. 
 

  "Do  all  the money trails lead to people we already know are involved? Anything that could tie Magos Petrovskii to these affairs, for instance?"  Hound asks.  "There is reason to suspect that he had some prior knowledge of these artefact transfers. During our last trip to the Underhive, it also became clear that Clans Sabay and Tora are now working together, where before they were bitter enemies. It seems likely that an outside force has intervened to encourage this alliance. Is there anything on the dataslate to indicate funds are now also being paid out to Clan Tora?" 
 "If there are no new leads, then it appears our best option is to follow up on Acolyte Arl's work in infiltrating Casmirre's expeditions, and hope that new leads will reveal themselves,"  he added.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla tries not to chuckle. She considered that getting into a relationship with a psyker might be dangerous, but when they were both psykers maybe they nothing to worry about from the other.  'That can still be fun sometimes if you know what you're getting into. Just remember that you're using him as well and don't go getting feelings.'  Orla considered whether Marcella was likely to be able to do that.  'If he upsets you anyway maybe we can arrest him.'  
 


Marcella's blush returns, and deepens in its shade of red.

 "Me?!"  she asked with humorous incredulity,  "no no, I meant for you! Hehe" 
 "For me? Hm, no, I don't know if they'd let me..." 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'If he upsets you anyway maybe we can arrest him.'  
 

For the first time in her company, Marcella laughed, a genuine laugh, while covering her mouth with her hand.

 "You! You're under arrest for being too damn handsome - hehe!" 
 oOo 

 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "If there are no new leads, then it appears our best option is to follow up on Acolyte Arl's work in infiltrating Casmirre's expeditions, and hope that new leads will reveal themselves,"  he added. 
 


Marc said nothing, but remained standing there in observation. However, she could not deny a ping of excitement resonate within her over the prosect of getting on a ship again. It had been so long!
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 



The Psyker listened, her large brown eyes open as her imagination pictured it all. A land filled with animals? And dangerous ones too!

 "Oh - did you have any as pets?!"  she asks excitedly. 
 

Arl smiled a little wide as he remembered Kesh.

" There were some animals that were friendlier than others... the tribe had some herdbeasts -- not grox, but something smaller and better adapted for living off the land... they weren't quite pets, but they were friendly enough.  There were also some working animals -- canids who helped us herd the beasts... they were good animals... smart, too. "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marcella's blush returns, and deepens in its shade of red.

 "Me?!"  she asked with humorous incredulity,  "no no, I meant for you! Hehe" 
 "For me? Hm, no, I don't know if they'd let me..."  
 

 'Yeah I was just pulling your leg.'  Orla looks amused at how easy it was to do that.  'For me, scratching an itch is one thing, settling down would be something else. I would need to bring the girls with me in that case. Which would be the sort of thing that would attract attention even if I could sneak all of them up here.' 

On Marcella's own situation,  'Well that seems unfair, but maybe it's different if you're in the Inquisition.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl smiled a little wide as he remembered Kesh.

" There were some animals that were friendlier than others... the tribe had some herdbeasts -- not grox, but something smaller and better adapted for living off the land... they weren't quite pets, but they were friendly enough.  There were also some working animals -- canids who helped us herd the beasts... they were good animals... smart, too. " 
 

 "Like...dogs?"  Marcella asked with bright eyes, holding her right hand to where the approximate shoulder-height of a pooch would be.

 "I would  love  a dog! Did you have any growing up?" 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Yeah I was just pulling your leg.'  Orla looks amused at how easy it was to do that.  'For me, scratching an itch is one thing, settling down would be something else. I would need to bring the girls with me in that case. Which would be the sort of thing that would attract attention even if I could sneak all of them up here.'  
 

 "Scratching an itch...?"  Marcella asked, clearly confused as the gears almost visibly ticked away inside her head until the meaning clicked.

Her eyes widened. That bright red blush returned as she brought both hands up to cup her mouth and nose; closing her eyes and visibly oscillating as she tried her best to suppress the giggle-laugh brewing within her.

 "That's...terrible..."  she said through her strained voice, eyes watering as she compressed all the mirth and giggles wanting to blew up through her.

 "By the Emperor...we've...we've lived  very  different lives, hehe..."  she nodded, regaining her composure.


 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 On Marcella's own situation,  'Well that seems unfair, but maybe it's different if you're in the Inquisition.'  
 

 "Well, fairness isn't really part of the equation. It's necessity, really. We've all got portals in our heads that lead to a realm of roiling psychic energy and demons wanting to enter our material plane. If any of us go rogue, or push ourselves too far, or lose control...a nosebleed or headache is the best case scenario. Worst? The entire planet is fraked, and they have to call in the Sororitas or the Astartes. Not many quality bachelors want to sign up to be next to that hehe,"  the psyker chuckled towards the end, showing a stoic sense of humor at least.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Scratching an itch...?"  Marcella asked, clearly confused as the gears almost visibly ticked away inside her head until the meaning clicked.

Her eyes widened. That bright red blush returned as she brought both hands up to cup her mouth and nose; closing her eyes and visibly oscillating as she tried her best to suppress the giggle-laugh brewing within her.

 "That's...terrible..."  she said through her strained voice, eyes watering as she compressed all the mirth and giggles wanting to blew up through her.

 "By the Emperor...we've...we've lived  very  different lives, hehe..."  she nodded, regaining her composure. 
 

Orla will watch Marcella have a moment with a smile.  'That we have. You're fun to tease you know that.' 

On the second point,  'Seems to me like if you couldn't control yourself that would already be a problem wouldn't it?'  Marcella was a psyker after all, but Orla was was glad it wasn't up to her to determine where to draw the line.
Bennosuke
 'So the throwing him into a hole comes later then.' From what Orla had heard neither the Arbites or the Inquisition actually needed proof if they were suspicious enough. Even a supposedly powerful noble was not immune to their reach. Getting what they needed from him first made sense 

Ezekiel's smirk spreads into a full on smile, and with a chuckle he replies, " Oh trust me, when this is well and done Durchesse will get everything he deserves. The real question will be how much of him there is left to bury. " His hand reflexively goes to his sidearm at his belt.


 "Do all the money trails lead to people we already know are involved? Anything that could tie Magos Petrovskii to these affairs, for instance?" Hound asks. "There is reason to suspect that he had some prior knowledge of these artefact transfers. During our last trip to the Underhive, it also became clear that Clans Sabay and Tora are now working together, where before they were bitter enemies. It seems likely that an outside force has intervened to encourage this alliance. Is there anything on the dataslate to indicate funds are now also being paid out to Clan Tora?"

"If there are no new leads, then it appears our best option is to follow up on Acolyte Arl's work in infiltrating Casmirre's expeditions, and hope that new leads will reveal themselves," he added. 

The Interrogator sighs and shakes his head in the negative. He says, " I honestly saw nothing regarding the Magos, nor the Tech Priest organization as a whole. If you would like, I can take a look further into The Magos as you further our primary investigation. " He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he adds, " And as far as outside sources go, do you think perhaps your meddling in the underhive has lead to their union? Honestly, I don't see much of a need to worry about the underhive gangs now, unless there is something I am missing. " The way he speaks, makes it clear that Ezekiel sees himself well above  Underhive gang wars , and the like.

He raises an eyebrow, scanning the rest of the group. " Any other questions before we discuss next steps? "
Haval
On the Sabay and the Tora working together.  'Anything's possible.'  Orla did not think it was possible that they would just join together like that but will humour the Interrogator.  'But if they got together because of interference it's not going to last. They wouldn't see the point in sharing unless there was a really good reason.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 He raises an eyebrow, scanning the rest of the group. " Any other questions before we discuss next steps? " 
 


Marc remained quiet, signifying that no, she had no further questions.
rax
 "It was through the efforts of the third gang, Clan Raptore, that this heretical trade in xenos artifacts came to light, and they have since been of assistance in providing information and shelter to us during our investigations into the Underhive connection. Sabay and Tora will turn their sights on them if they are no longer blood enemies. If the Raptore are wiped out, we will lose a valuable resource in the Underhive - one which we will be hard pressed to replace. At the very least, the activities of Clans Sabay and Tora should be closely monitored while we pursue other leads,"  Hounds offers his opinion.
Bennosuke
Ezekiel listens to this, his face hardened and indifferent. But it is to Orla who he speaks, clearly aware of the girl's affiliation. " Unfortunately, we must focus our intentions on  higher  matters. Unfortunately the Inquisition cannot distract itself with every injustice and every inequity within the Imperium, " he says, his voice cold and measured. The Interrogator turns his attention to Hound and continues, " Our duty is to a higher responsibility. Sacrifices must be made! " He stops and sighs, and with this his countence softens. " However, " Ezekiel says hesitantly, " I will not dictate how you run your business. As long as you focus your attentions on the next step in taking down Durchesse and finding out what exactly the hell he is up to, you are free to spend your energies and resources as you wish. " The Interrogator crosses his arms across his chest, and tilts his head to the side, and takes a deep breath in and out.
Haval
Hound's point made Orla's stomach lurch.  'If they're working together because they're taking orders then I'd like to think they'd have better things to do. If not and I can't see it lasting as I said.'  It would be easier to believe that.  'In the short term who knows. Might be worth getting a way of calling the girls without any of us having to go down there. Unless anyone's got a spare crate of weapons lying around here somewhere that they wouldn't mind donating?'  She doubted it but it didn't hurt to ask. Perhaps she should make her own arrangements.

Orla otherwise took the Interrogator's point without complaint. It made sense, even if she didn't have to like it.  'But...if you knew they were using xenos weapons you might have to think again right?'  Which meant that she was obliged to wait for word from Raptore on the matter one way or the other.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 
 "Like...dogs?"  Marcella asked with bright eyes, holding her right hand to where the approximate shoulder-height of a pooch would be.

 "I would  love  a dog! Did you have any growing up?"  
 

Arl paused for a moment, remembering.  " We had several, mainly to assist with herdbeasts.  It wasn't hard to get them to accompany you when watching out for predators. "  He smiled at the thought.  " They weren't pets, mind you, but they respected us and we them.  They worked well with the herdbeasts and could be friendly when they cared to be. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla will watch Marcella have a moment with a smile.  'That we have. You're fun to tease you know that.' 

On the second point,  'Seems to me like if you couldn't control yourself that would already be a problem wouldn't it?'  Marcella was a psyker after all, but Orla was was glad it wasn't up to her to determine where to draw the line. 
 


Marc pursed her lips, her cheeks carrying that slight blush as she tried not to pull a friendly teasing face in return.  "Fun to tease, hmph!"  she humphed in good humour.

 "Oh, it's...not that simple,"  she commented,  "I'm only half the equation. On the... other side , there are innumerable entities, all with wills and desires of their own, and they're not in the habit of asking. In between us is glass..."  the Psyker's voice slowed as she half spoke and half thought about her words, and the implications. Abruptly, her face brightened,  "but! Service to the Emperor and Imperium in the Inquisition is one of the better gigs for people like me. I could have been drafted into the Imperial Guard as a battlefield Psyker, or worse. If I'm allowed to retire, if I even live that long...hmm, maybe. That'd be really nice, actually!"  she gave a bright, sweet smile.



 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl paused for a moment, remembering.  " We had several, mainly to assist with herdbeasts.  It wasn't hard to get them to accompany you when watching out for predators. "  He smiled at the thought.  " They weren't pets, mind you, but they respected us and we them.  They worked well with the herdbeasts and could be friendly when they cared to be. " 
 


 "Hmm, I'd like something a bit friendlier. We get enough attitude from our line of work, hehe,"  she giggled.

 "Maybe a kitty - a really affectionate one! I know the nobles in this part of the Spire have some as pets. We used to have some mangy cats on the  Sevastopol  to catch rats." 

The Psyker reached over to the bench by her side, drawing up a glass of water and taking a sip,  "but, after everything you've seen and been through here, would you ever want to go back to Kesh?" 
Bennosuke
Orla's question doesn't seem to surprise the Interrogator, though he speaks with a certain kindness that Ezekiel did not commonly use. " I'm sorry, but as far as I am aware, none of the clans were using the Xenos weapons, but that Boss Half Face was trading them back to Lord Durchesse in exchange for weapons they otherwise would never have access to. I assume the Sabay didn't even know what was in the crates they were picking up from the Toxic Wastes, let along how to use them. If they did know, they would probably try to keep them for themselves, assuming they had the balls to betray Durchess and commit such heresies. "
Haval
To Marcella,  'Well there you go then. Things could.always be worse.' 
--------------

 'Just trying to see where I stand.'  If they were working for Durchesse then tying them to the xenos weapons would be evidence of the connection. And it would conveniently be the sort of thing that the Inquisition might actually take interest in. But it was all just Orla trying to think ahead.  'As you say, there's no help here.'  The Raptore were used to it.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "Sir,"  Marcs soft voice piped up in the silence.

 "If our next step is to return to the Underhive and attempt to infiltrate the Rogue Trader vessel, may I make a requisition request for an Auspex scanner and either a gas mask or re-breather each with a reload canister? i grew up on a satellite; these places can be labyrinthine with numerous environmental hazards." 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 To Marcella,  'Well there you go then. Things could.always be worse.'  
 

Marc smirked while taking a sip of her water, that blush remaining on a topic she rarely thought about, let alone discussed with other people.  "We're in the Upper Spire now. Maybe there's some puppy-dog eyed nobles son out there..."  she shrugged, chuckling into her mug.
Bennosuke
The Interrogator raises an eyebrow at the psyker's question, but his reply is directed towards Arl. " My understanding was that The Rogue Trader was expected to be docking at one of the main garages in the midhive, " he says raising an eyebrow, " that was my understanding anyways from speaking with your companion. I doubt are any docks working in the underhive at this point... which is probably why they were dropping cargo in the toxic wastes outside the hive. "

But a smirk spreads across Ezekiel's face, this one as mirthful as every other one of his smug grins. Extending his gaze across the group, the Interrogator says, " Besides, while Arl takes care of getting onto Cassimire's ship, I was hoping the rest of you would be willing to infiltrate the upcoming Solstice Ball. I was able to make a contact who could get us one invitation for a local noble and their retinue. I hear all the Upper Hive's most wealthy and interesting socialites will be there. It might be the perfect opportunity to start gathering real intel on Lord Durchesse and his family and allies. " Ezekiel lets this float over the group, watching their reactions with titilated excitement.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc kept a cool face, but internally chided herself for screwing up the detail of the MidHive, not the Underhive. However, she did notice that the Inquisitor did not answer her question. That probably meant No.

However, the news that they would be attending a fancy ball - that was something else! A subtle ripple went across Marcella's face as a hundred questions shot through her head. They'd be the retinue for a noble? Naturally, she assumed that Ezekiel would be playing that role: but would they be 'undercover' as flunkies, or taking on more formal roles?

Knowing that she had spoken enough and that she was just another bad sentence away from going from 'eccentric Psyker' to 'stupid girl', Marcella looked pleasantly surprised - but kept her mouth shut.
Haval
Orla knows little about spaceships but only as a vague idea about what a ball involves.  'I'll take your word for it bossman, but would they actually let the likes of me in there? Even as muscle?'  This was not the sort of thing she would have had any interest in getting close to normally. The sort of security they had at a place like that was asking for trouble.
rax
 "I concur with Acolyte Orla's line of thought. We will be hard pressed to pull off impersonating local nobility, but if the invite comes with one attached as cover, we  might  be able to pass as this person's retinue,"  Hound says.
Bennosuke
Orla's question only broadens the crud eating grin on The Interrogator's face. " I promise we can provide adequate disguises and identification for covers, " he replies with a saccharine voice, " the rest will be up to your acting abilities, or at least your ability to keep your mouth shut. "

He listens patiently to Hound as well before replying, " Which is why my suggestion would be turning Father Milo into our... noble, so to speak. He has the pedigree and upbringing. Perhaps he is a newly arrived representative of some merchant family from another planet? Come come now, this is something you can have some fun with! "
rax
Hound raises a single, sceptical eyebrow at Ezekiel's suggestion.  "With all due respect, Interrogator, Father Milo has so far shown little interest in acting with any kind of discretion or restraint, and he appears to have great difficulty in following a plan. Were it not for his actions at Drimmle's manse, there might never have been a firefight in the first place, and thus no corresponding mess to clean up. For all his pedigree and experience with the milieu in question, I do not believe he can be trusted not to jeopardize the mission from boredom or inattention." 
 OOC:  This idea is going to be a really tough sell. Obviously Ezekiel can order us to comply with his idea, and Hound will do so, but if he (or Milo) wants to  convince  Hound that this is a good idea, he's going to need some really solid arguments as to why Milo can be trusted to take the lead.
Bennosuke
Ezekiel shrugs, wrinkling his nose at Hound's stern reply. The grin on his face only fades slightly and he says, " Well that is a separate concern all together. " He gives Father Milo a once over, his expression growing somewhat more stern.

Then with a sigh he says, " Well another one of you could choose to take  the starring role . " He throws both hands up and shrugs again. " Otherwise, does the group have a better idea for how to proceed with getting close to Durchesse and getting the information we need? " He chuckles and adds, " Don't ever say I wasn't democratic in this process! "

(OOC: For what it is worth, Bramble has been a bit MIA and I figured we would basically be using Milo as a NPC till he resurfaced. This would allow the group to basically use Milo as a set piece while interacting with the scene however they want)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "Could you fulfil the role, Sir?"  Marcella asked the Interrogator.

 "Or would you be recognized?" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Orla's question only broadens the crud eating grin on The Interrogator's face. " I promise we can provide adequate disguises and identification for covers, " he replies with a saccharine voice, " the rest will be up to your acting abilities, or at least your ability to keep your mouth shut. "

He listens patiently to Hound as well before replying, " Which is why my suggestion would be turning Father Milo into our... noble, so to speak. He has the pedigree and upbringing. Perhaps he is a newly arrived representative of some merchant family from another planet? Come come now, this is something you can have some fun with! " 
 

Arl winced inwardly, striving to keep his concern off his face.  This situation had suddenly developed the stink of a cave bear's lair and suggested that Ezekial had not read the after-action report from their last mission.
Haval
To Hound,  'How much can someone whose supposed to be a noble get away with anyway? Just out of interest. If the Interrogator's right about the fake ID being good maybe there's some wiggle room there.'  She considers the rest of the group,  'I'd offer but I'm about the same on being worried someone would have me arrested as I am people would laugh.' 
rax
 "Since none of us are acquainted with the hierarchies and customs of this planet's nobility, I suspect that the only way any of us will pass for nobility ourselves is if we purport to be visitors from somewhere very, far away and very much off the beaten track. Even so, literacy and a passing acquaintance with High Gothic would be helpful, as would a command - or the ability to feign such - of whatever sphere of operations that's supposed to be the foundation of one's noble lineage. Does you skill set include any of these things?"  Hound answered Orla.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Since none of us are acquainted with the hierarchies and customs of this planet's nobility, I suspect that the only way any of us will pass for nobility ourselves is if we purport to be visitors from somewhere very, far away and very much off the beaten track. Even so, literacy and a passing acquaintance with High Gothic would be helpful, as would a command - or the ability to feign such - of whatever sphere of operations that's supposed to be the foundation of one's noble lineage. Does you skill set include any of these things?"  Hound answered Orla. 
 

 'Maybe a few words here and there. I would be astonished if every highborn actually speaks all that properly though. Some of them must have done badly in  school. But agreed for the most part.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "I don't think all of us have to pass for nobility,"  Marcella's voice emerged.

 "Just the one who gets the job. The rest of us are probably beneath the notice of the hoity-toities." 
Bennosuke
 "Could you fulfil the role, Sir?" Marcella asked the Interrogator.

"Or would you be recognized?" 


 Arl winced inwardly, striving to keep his concern off his face. This situation had suddenly developed the stink of a cave bear's lair and suggested that Ezekial had not read the after-action report from their last mission. 

Marcella's question hangs in the air, as Ezekiel's jaw drops and the smug grin vanishes from his face. The Interrogator remains silent. Each second stretches the limit of tolerance. Then the half smile returns and he replies, " Well, I suppose I could at least keep my eyes on you lot that way. Hopefully no more unplanned shoot outs. " The grin has returned, but there is something in the man's eyes that warns of wicked retribution. He adds lightly, " Is that what the group would be most comfortable with? "
Haval
Orla shrugged,  'You're the boss.'  The idea that she wouldn't have to do it was frankly something of a relief.  'As long as everyone knows when to leave if things get too interesting.' 
Bennosuke
Ezekiel nods his head at Orla's response, but casts his gaze over the rest of the group, clearly waiting for at least one more person to weigh in, one eyebrow raised expectantly.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella nodded once in agreement.

 "That would be the safest option available, Sir." 

That he seemed like an excitable kid who had just been told he was able to drive his dads car, did not go unnoticed by the Psyker.
Bennosuke
" Very well then. My lord did order me to provide  appropriate oversight , " Ezekiel says with a nod. He pauses for a moment, his lips pursing in contemplation, his eyes studying the group at large. Then with a tilt of his head the Interrogator asks, " I presume then that you want me to provide you each with your own roles then, or are you capable of developing your own covers? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Internally, the Psyker was giddy and excited. She got to dress up! And go to a fancy party! All the champagne, the music, the dancing! It was like something out of a fairytale to Marcs mind, descending from her cloistered and sheltered life to attend a nobles gala. Marcella couldn't wait to see Amanda's face back at the Cathedral when she told her! That'd wipe the smile off that smug cows face.

Ahem, but of course, the Psyker knew she had a job to do. She hoped she didn't have to kill anyone and get blood on her dress.

 "I cannot speak for the others, but I am not familiar with Noble entourages, nor the type that would be brought to a fancy dress party, nor what my position in that cotorie would be. But I do imagine that we will need access to appropriate apparel, cosmetics, manicurists and cosmetologists." 
  I am going to look  amazing !   Maecella beamed internally, while externally presenting a dispassionate, matter-of-fact front to Ezekiel. She appreciated that Ezekiel, as a male, probably just had to have a shower and throw a suit on. Maybe Orla too. But she'd need to get her hair done. Her nails. Her skin. Her cosmetics. Her dress. Match them up, look fantastic. So much work was ahead - but the Psyker could barely contain her excitement!
Haval
Orla nodded,  'Well ok then. At best me having to be at the centre of things might have been funny, but I can't say I'm not relived.'  She'll look towards the others,  'I figure muscle should work fine for me. I just have to look intimidating where neccessary.'  She'll let Marcella's enthusiasm wash over her without paying much attention to it.
Bennosuke
 Ahem, but of course, the Psyker knew she had a job to do. She hoped she didn't have to kill anyone and get blood on her dress.

"I cannot speak for the others, but I am not familiar with Noble entourages, nor the type that would be brought to a fancy dress party, nor what my position in that cotorie would be. But I do imagine that we will need access to appropriate apparel, cosmetics, manicurists and cosmetologists."

I am going to look amazing! Marcella beamed internally, while externally presenting a dispassionate, matter-of-fact front to Ezekiel. She appreciated that Ezekiel, as a male, probably just had to have a shower and throw a suit on. Maybe Orla too. But she'd need to get her hair done. Her nails. Her skin. Her cosmetics. Her dress. Match them up, look fantastic. So much work was ahead - but the Psyker could barely contain her excitement! 

Ezekiel listens to this, nodding his head in agreement, and raises a gloved hand to scratch his stubble as if deep in thought. " That is all a fair point, " he says still nodding, " so probably best you are kept on hand but without drawing everyone's attention. Marcella, I shall have you as one of my hand servants. I'm sure we can find costume appropriate for such a role. " He allows himself a small but dark smirk, perhaps catching the excitement that had been building in the Psyker's eyes.

To Orla he replies, " We can have you as part of my personal security duty. " He eyes Orla over once again then adds, " Probably will be better if you don't talk much either. Someone might spot your underhive cant. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel listens to this, nodding his head in agreement, and raises a gloved hand to scratch his stubble as if deep in thought. " That is all a fair point, " he says still nodding, " so probably best you are kept on hand but without drawing everyone's attention. Marcella, I shall have you as one of my hand servants. I'm sure we can find costume appropriate for such a role. " He allows himself a small but dark smirk, perhaps catching the excitement that had been building in the Psyker's eyes.

To Orla he replies, " We can have you as part of my personal security duty. " He eyes Orla over once again then adds, " Probably will be better if you don't talk much either. Someone might spot your underhive cant. " 
 


Marcella nods in acknowledgement,  "Understood sir,"  she replied, holding up the air of professionalism that the job required to pull off a charade. Afterall, she'd killed someone - why was that any better than pretending to be a handmaiden?

 "I will need to start immediately booking a seamstress for measuring, producing and fitting days for a gown, as well as hair and cosmetics experts, manicurists, skin care professionals, a perfumer and a gemologist for jewelry etc. As your household servant, my appearance will reflect upon you, so I cannot enter such a place looking plebeian, Sir." 

Once again, on the outside Marcella kept a matter-of-fact tone as best she could, while internally she was doing cartwheels.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel listens to this, nodding his head in agreement, and raises a gloved hand to scratch his stubble as if deep in thought. " That is all a fair point, " he says still nodding, " so probably best you are kept on hand but without drawing everyone's attention. Marcella, I shall have you as one of my hand servants. I'm sure we can find costume appropriate for such a role. " He allows himself a small but dark smirk, perhaps catching the excitement that had been building in the Psyker's eyes.

To Orla he replies, " We can have you as part of my personal security duty. " He eyes Orla over once again then adds, " Probably will be better if you don't talk much either. Someone might spot your underhive cant. " 
 

 'Well I don't know what a cant is but if you mean the way I talk I could be much worse. Even in the midhive people would notice if I was too obvious about it. The real question is whether I can learn how to sound like you lot if it'd help me blend in.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Well I don't know what a cant is but if you mean the way I talk I could be much worse. Even in the midhive people would notice if I was too obvious about it. The real question is whether I can learn how to sound like you lot if it'd help me blend in.'  
 


Marcella pursed her lips in thought, before making a suggestion.

 "What if we explain you are in a mourning phase over a dear relative since passed and are observing a personal Vow of Silence as they make their way to the Emperors light after death?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marcella pursed her lips in thought, before making a suggestion.

 "What if we explain you are in a mourning phase over a dear relative since passed and are observing a personal Vow of Silence as they make their way to the Emperors light after death?"  
 

Orla shrugged,  'If I'm not talking you can tell them what you want. I reckon you can dress me up as a Sister and they still wouldn't believe it. But as long as the IDs are good maybe we can get away with a lot if we're careful.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla shrugged,  'If I'm not talking you can tell them what you want. I reckon you can dress me up as a Sister and they still wouldn't believe it. But as long as the IDs are good maybe we can get away with a lot if we're careful.'  
 

Marc smiled,  "the Sororitas don't do bodyguard duty, you'll be fine there. I think you and Arl would look quite dapper in matching black suits and ties! Or open collar. Cover any tattoo's, slick your hair back...yes, I could see it!" 
rax
 "Our roles and apparel will need to fit with however you choose to present yourself, Interrogator,"  Hound reminds Ezekiel.  "For my part, I believe I can convincingly play the part of physician, scribe, or tutor, if such would seem appropriate additions to your entourage,"  he offers.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marc smiled,  "the Sororitas don't do bodyguard duty, you'll be fine there. I think you and Arl would look quite dapper in matching black suits and ties! Or open collar. Cover any tattoo's, slick your hair back...yes, I could see it!"  
 

 'Ok then, done. You have one of these suits lying around somewhere?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Ok then, done. You have one of these suits lying around somewhere?'  
 


Marion's smile was small, very small, but it was the crack in the dam that was finally produced from the explosive happy pressure building within that her dispassionate visage had been holding back.

 "Of course not. We'll need to get you fitted. And Arl too! I'm thinking...midnight black. Maybe navy!" 
Bennosuke
 "I will need to start immediately booking a seamstress for measuring, producing and fitting days for a gown, as well as hair and cosmetics experts, manicurists, skin care professionals, a perfumer and a gemologist for jewelry etc. As your household servant, my appearance will reflect upon you, so I cannot enter such a place looking plebeian, Sir." 

Something flickers across the Interrogator's face, but the grin remains. He puts both hands up in a gesture meant to slow someone down, and says, " Hold on, hold on. We only have a couple of weeks before the Solstice ball. I don't know if we have time procure all of that and fabricate legitimate covers. " He chuckles and says gaily. Then he adds, " And what kind of security officer needs a gown? "

He says little as the group discusses amongst herself. Hound's remark draws a small scowl from the Interrogator. But this too is replaced with a mirthful grin, and he says with a wave of his arm, " Who brings a tutor or a physician to a ball? Scribe it will be then! " He chuckles at this, pleased with himself.

Ezekiel pauses and then adds, " I suppose then Arl will be on his own, unless we want to send Father Milo with him, "  the remark  almost  a question posed to the group.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Of course not. We'll need to get you fitted. And Arl too! I'm thinking...midnight black. Maybe navy!"  
 

Orla considers the concept of getting clothes made for her.  'I guess it depends on how much it's going to cost us.'  There had to be a catch there somewhere judging by the Interrogator's response.  'Let me know what you need from me.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Something flickers across the Interrogator's face, but the grin remains. He puts both hands up in a gesture meant to slow someone down, and says, " Hold on, hold on. We only have a couple of weeks before the Solstice ball. I don't know if we have time procure all of that and fabricate legitimate covers. " He chuckles and says gaily. Then he adds, " And what kind of security officer needs a gown? " 
 


 "Then we haven't a moment to lose!"  Marcella said cheerily, before retaining her cool, impassive demeanour,  "Sir." 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " And what kind of security officer needs a gown? " 
 

 "The type that want to remain serruptitious, subtle and unassuming,"  the psyker added with a small, knowing smile.



 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel pauses and then adds, " I suppose then Arl will be on his own, unless we want to send Father Milo with him, "  the remark  almost  a question posed to the group. 
 


  'Don't you  dare  volunteer!'   a voice inside Marcella's head barked, a strong, chiding, determined voice that would have been pointing a finger right in her face if it had a hand with which to do so.

  'We're going to dress up and look amazing for the Solstice Ball! We're  not  going to go and slum around some docks and talk to wharf-rats!'  
  'But...but Arl did ask earlier...he can't speak any voidborn dialect; he'll stick out like a fly on a wedding cake! We're the only one in the whole group who can speak it. We have to put the mission first before our own wants.'  
  'Shut. Up. He will be fine! He comes from some primitive hunter world, he  loves  that stuff! He feeds off adversity, he'll think it's fun! Don't you dare, don't you dare blow this for us!'  

Marcella pursed her lips and then spoke up,  "If...needed Sir, I can accompany Arl. Voidborn dialect is my native language." 
  'No! What are you doing?! Shut up....!'   that final protest from the psyche drained away as Marcella tucked it back into its mental corner.



 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla considers the concept of getting clothes made for her.  'I guess it depends on how much it's going to cost us.'  There had to be a catch there somewhere judging by the Interrogator's response.  'Let me know what you need from me.'  
 

Marcella offered a small, reassuring smile,  "Field operations accounts are separate from personal funds. Throne pinching will produce garments and attire that is of poor enough quality as to warrant derision. Appearances are everything. You'll just need to get measured for a suit." 
Bennosuke
Ezekiel throws both hands up at Marcella's response and with an exasperated sigh says, " Very well. But you're stipend for this will be limited! " He glares at Marcella his cheeks turning slightly red.


 Marcella pursed her lips and then spoke up, "If...needed Sir, I can accompany Arl. Voidborn dialect is my native language." 

The Interrogator will raise a quizzical eye at this, a sneer spreading across his face. He will wave a hand at Arl and say, " Up to you, " before casting his eyes back to Marcella.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Hound's remark draws a small scowl from the Interrogator. But this too is replaced with a mirthful grin, and he says with a wave of his arm, " Who brings a tutor or a physician to a ball? Scribe it will be then! " He chuckles at this, pleased with himself. 
 

  "Studies have shown that the rate of hyopchondria and fear of poisoning is substantially higher among the nobility than other classes. Having a physician on hand for reassurance is quite common,"  Hound replied with a shrug.  "However, since a scribe is what you require, a scribe I shall be. May I suggest that the role be refined to be your personal secretary, Interrogator? That will make my presence at the ball and proximity to your personage easier to explain." 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel throws both hands up at Marcella's response and with an exasperated sigh says, " Very well. But you're stipend for this will be limited! " He glares at Marcella his cheeks turning slightly red.

The Interrogator will raise a quizzical eye at this, a sneer spreading across his face. He will wave a hand at Arl and say, " Up to you, " before casting his eyes back to Marcella. 
 


Marc's eyes tilted over towards Arl,  "need me to come with, or will you be alright?" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 





Marc's eyes tilted over towards Arl,  "need me to come with, or will you be alright?"  
 

Arl pretended to think about matters for a few moments, more to placate, or perhaps annoy the Interrogator.

" To be honest, sir, I hadn't considered that I might have to speak -- usually, I can manage to slip about unremarked, if not unnoticed.  That having been said, having someone who can speak the local dialect   would   be something of an advantage and, seeing as I would likely be outnumbered several thousand to one if matters spun out of control, a little back up would be a help. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl pretended to think about matters for a few moments, more to placate, or perhaps annoy the Interrogator.

" To be honest, sir, I hadn't considered that I might have to speak -- usually, I can manage to slip about unremarked, if not unnoticed.  That having been said, having someone who can speak the local dialect   would   be something of an advantage and, seeing as I would likely be outnumbered several thousand to one if matters spun out of control, a little back up would be a help. " 
 


The Pysker listened to Arl and nodded, before swiveling her eyes back to Ezekiel.

 "Am I to accompany yourself, or Arl, sir?" 
Bennosuke
(OOC: Thank you all for the patience. Post rate to start getting better now)

The Interrogator shrugs, as if the whole conversation is only a minor bother. " It sounds like you shall be assisting sir Arl then, " he says casually, allowing himself to crack another grin, " Besides, it will probably be cheaper than your going undercover in a ballgown and prosthetics. "

He pauses for a moment and again surveys the group. He takes a deep sigh then says, " Well then, is there anything else we want to bring up or discuss? " He looks out expectantly over the acolytes.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 (OOC: Thank you all for the patience. Post rate to start getting better now)

The Interrogator shrugs, as if the whole conversation is only a minor bother. " It sounds like you shall be assisting sir Arl then, " he says casually, allowing himself to crack another grin, " Besides, it will probably be cheaper than your going undercover in a ballgown and prosthetics. "

He pauses for a moment and again surveys the group. He takes a deep sigh then says, " Well then, is there anything else we want to bring up or discuss? " He looks out expectantly over the acolytes. 
 


Marcella nodded dispassionately,  "Yes sir,"  her response neutral.

  'You blew it! By the Emperor's arse you blew our chance to go to that ball! We could've looked a million thrones if you had've just kept your big mouth shut!'  

Marcella did her best to ignore her inner monologue and disappointment, reminding herself that the mission was above her own personal desires. If the mission was best served by her assisting Arl, rather than dressing up in a lovely gown, then that's what had to be done.

 "No further questions, sir." 
Haval
 'I take it Arl's thing can't wait then?'  Orla had been ignoring the details of whatever the big man was up to unless she was needed to help with it.

And for questions,  'If I'm going to this party thing I'd only want to know how sneaky I'm allowed to be? Not hurting people who aren't trying to hurt me first is obvious, but if there's a reason to explore the house a bit while I'm looking for the toilet say? Of course if you're coming along I can run it by you or Hound first.'  
rax
 "Yes, what are your instructions for the ball, Interrogator? Do you wish us to remain on hand and observe while you seek out leads, or should we prepare to fan out and attempt to procure information by speaking to our counterparts among the retinues of other nobles?" 
Bennosuke
The Interrogator raises an eyebrow at the questions, but nods approvingly. " Unfortunately, Lord Durchesse himself is not hosting the ball. The Lord, his family, and his associates are our primary targets, " Ezekiel says in reply, " as long as you can maintain your cover, and not get caught, I will trust you to make...  intelligent  decisions. You do not need to stand by my side the whole evening, though I will be doing my best to keep an eye on your activities if I can. " He pauses for a moment, and then seeming to quote from memory adds, " The Solstice Ball will be held at the manor of Grand General Parniple, a retired leader of The Emperor's navy in this subsector. My understanding is that Parniple has developed quiet a taste for the fine and expensive things in his retirement, and has built himself a rather lavish mansion, with a dining hall large enough to host an entire garrison of guardsmen. He is reportedly a social acquaintance of our Lord Durchesse, though how friendly the two are, I am not really sure. The party should be crowded enough to allow for some anonymity, though it may also make things more difficult, as I can't imagine many know the secret affairs of Durchesse and his cronies. It also goes without saying that some degree of discretion will be necessary to avoid drawing too much attention. "

To Orla he adds, " Yes, I presume it will be rather useful gathering intel on the Rogue Trader as well. Having two avenues for potential investigation will increase our likelihood of walking away with something we can use. "
Wyndeward
Arl gave a sigh of relief inwardly, grateful to have back-up for the infiltration.  Marcella was sharp -- he hadn't even considered that folks might peg him as an outsider due to his accent.
Haval
Orla will think for a second and nod.  'If this guy's a soldier rather then just another noble he might be more likely to have other people like that as guests or working at his house. Might be easier to talk to people like that anyway.' 

To Marcella,  'If you're not going I'm still going to need clothes. Maybe I can get away going in there as security looking like this, but people are going to stare and might remember me later.'  Orla dresses in the mass produced clothing of a factory worker and assumed she would look out of place at a fancy party even if she left her animal fur cloak at home.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 To Marcella,  'If you're not going I'm still going to need clothes. Maybe I can get away going in there as security looking like this, but people are going to stare and might remember me later.'  Orla dresses in the mass produced clothing of a factory worker and assumed she would look out of place at a fancy party even if she left her animal fur cloak at home. 
 


Marcella nodded slowly, though Orla could detect a hint of sadness in her large, brown eyes.

 "I can help you,"  she said,  "I'll locate and book a tailor you, to get you custom fitted for a suit. And a hair stylist. You're going to have to bathe as well. I can work on your nails for you, they need to look clean and presentable. You're going to look very dapper." 
Haval
 'We don't have to go nuts, but whatever works.'  Orla looked uncomfortable.  'I'm not sure I'd know where to start. Assuming they even let me in the building in the first place.'  She had noted the sad look on Marcella's face.  'Maybe if there's a next time we swap.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'We don't have to go nuts, but whatever works.'  Orla looked uncomfortable.  'I'm not sure I'd know where to start. Assuming they even let me in the building in the first place.'  She had noted the sad look on Marcella's face.  'Maybe if there's a next time we swap.'  
 


Marc pursed her lips and gently shook her head.

 "Nuts you must go,"  she responded,  "though you are not to out-shine your Lord,"  she gestures to the Interrogator,  "your appearance reflects on him: a fine suit and appearance speaks well of your employer. We will get you fitted for a tailored suit, and a hair stylist will fashion your helm into something sleek and presentable. Don't worry, I'll make the bookings; you just need to rock up,"  the Psyker offered a smile.
Bennosuke
It was several days later when Arl heard from Pip, who had sent message to Commisar's Tavern that "the bird has landed". A few communications later, Pip had agreed to meet Arl and his "comrade" the next morning at the Tavern to fulfill his end of the bargain, assumedly to get the two of them onto Cassimere's newly docked ship. Pip had of course reminded Arl of his promise for twenty thrones when they met, and the other 60, once they were aboard.

Of course the tavern would be closed so early, but a this hour most of the hive prolls would likely be busy on their way to work and hopefully there would space enough for them to meet and talk without drawing attention.

(OOC: Please describe how you are dressing and what equipment you are taking to meet Pip)

**************************************************  ***************

Marcella and Arl had left early to meet their contact, the morning of the ball, and though the event was still many hours away, Interrogator Ezekiel had gone door to door knocking on everyone's rooms and requesting that they gather in his study. When everyone is up and dressed, and caffeinated enough to meet, they find the Interrogator rather under dressed to his usual fashion. Wearing a pair of dirty coveralls, the Interrogator's also had a large rebreather strapped around his neck. The bulbous mask would likely cover his entire face when worn. Whether he had already gone out like that, or was planning to after the meeting was unclear. Ezekiel was busy shuffling around files on his desk and tapping through a bulky data slate.

When the group was gathered, Ezekiel will pass out the files, envelopes filled each with an individualized falsified ID card, and a small dataslate. " Your covers have been taken care of, " he says hurriedly, " and the data slate has a small background on each of your covers. Thank you for your help in building them. I also have gathered a little more intel about the ball and who will be attending. The data slate has a summary of most the key players. It took me hours to gather and file everything. You will have the day to prepare, so I want you to do the best you can to memorize everything about your cover, and your role in tonight's mission. Your jobs will be to gather any information you can on Durchesse and his dealings. Figure out who might be involved with him in whatever this illicit xenos trade is, and figure what exactly they are up to. Anything goes, as long as you don't blow your cover or draw too much attention to yourselves. I will be around, but you should feel free to act on your own impulses and follow any leads you think worthwhile. Are we clear? "

(OOC: While I am framing this as the Interrogator assigning you your cover, please include in your next post a quick summary of the cover. Feel free to go into as much detail as you like, and feel free to have a little fun with it)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Over the next few days, Marcella had made good on her promise to help the more stylistically challenged among the group...mostly Orla. Milo had access to his own wardrobe, while Hound had his dress robes cleaned and pressed. That just left the Underhiver, the one most in need of the Psykers help. And so, she had booked a tailor for the ganger, along with a hair stylist, make up artist and manicurist. Giving the other woman the details necessary, Marcella prayed that it worked fine and that Orla would morph from ugly duckling, to stylish, dapper security detail.

Was Marcella vicariously living an attendance to the ball through Orla? Perhaps. But she wanted to help out all the same.

When it came time for Marcella and Arl to head off, the Psyker offered no complaints. Being only 5'4", she had limited 'real estate' across which to spread the items she thought she might need. She wore her black coveralls that hugged her figure, along with her utility belt, her flak cloak and  First Backpack  across her shoulders. She also sported an external holster on both of her thighs, one for her 13-round capacity semi-automatic pistol, the Orthlak Armsman, and the other for her new, dark revolver gifted to her by Arl himself. Meanwhile, she had a third over-the-shoulder holster for her uzi, keeping it snugly running down her side and next to her right arm, should she need to quickly draw the weapon up and discharge it. A spare magazine/reload for each weapon was on her belt, while the rest were clustered in her backpack, along with a few other items.

Bidding the rest of the group good luck and farewell, Marcella would accompany Arl to the meeting spot, periodically chatting along the way.
Haval
After giving the matter some thought Orla has just the fake identity in mind for someone who would prefer not to be messed with.

House Liosan was a trading concern from somewhere corewards that shipped goods all over the sector. Their efforts had made them very wealthy and they maintained a local presence on many of the more populated worlds, including Helius. After a century or more of expansion they maintained the equivalent of a small army to protect their various interests from pirates and local criminals. They had more then enough of these men and woman that they had been known to hire them out as private security to the wealthy during their downtime.

Officially they had a reputation for being completely law abiding, albeit also likely to come down hard on anyone that managed to get in their way. Unofficially, they were understood in certain circles to occasionally trade in more illegal goods where they had essentially formed a partnership with planet bound criminal organisations in order to buy them off. As a smuggler, Orla had had personal experience of dealing with their representatives from the otherside. House Liosan hired a lot of people including sub-contracters from anyone that was useful to them, and so it wasn't completely implausible that a woman who sounded like she had come straight from the Hapheastein Underhive if you had reason to know the accent might be working for them. It was also a large enough organisation even on Helius that there was no reason for everyone who worked for it to know all of their colleagues. With any luck, the reputation of House Liosan ought to be just intimidating enough that she could gesture at that rather then have to answer any awkward questions.

With Marcella's help Orla is dressed to resemble the more upmarket end of the organised criminal gangs that she has sometimes had to deal with in the midhive. She wears a tailored black three piece suit under a new coat that is long enough to conceal various small weapons. She has had a professional haircut for the first time, and she is probably cleaner then she has ever been. This is perhaps the most money she has ever had reason to spend in so short a time frame, but she finds the clothes surprisely comfortable.
rax
Hound finds the entire concept of having to  speak  to people at an upper class ball distasteful, but if that's how the Interrogator wants things done, he isn't one to disobey.

For his cover, he gets his dark grey Administratum robes thoroughly cleaned and patched up. They're a suitable garment for Adept Third Class Toomes, seconded from the Divisio Recordari of whatever planet Ezekiel claims to come from to serve as his personal secretary. With his photographic memory, encyclopedic knowledge of all manner of lores, and skill as a copyist, it's a role he should have little trouble pulling off convincingly. As a concession to the role, he makes sure to shave properly and to cut his hair into an Administratum-approved buzz cut. A patch of dermaplast covers his bar code tattoo, all to make him as unmemorable as possible.
Haval
To Ezekial,  'Clear. Though something tells me there might be people there who aren't going to want to talk to the hired help. Not in public anyway. Speaking of which, do we need to know who you're pretending to be boss?' 
Bennosuke
Orla's question brings a broad smile to Ezekiel''s face, and for a moment it looks like he is about to reply how he thought you'd never ask. Then with a shrug meant to imply nonchalance, he says, " I will acting under the cover of Philius Jarkov, remote nephew of Lord Ican Jarkov the Great Grain Baron from planet Corcus. The role should imply power and wealth, while being remote and obscure enough to make it easy to keep cover. I have also deeply reviewed the family history and trade of the Jarkov's, and consider myself quiet the expert at this point. "
rax
 "Proper preparation prevents poor performance,"  Hound agrees sagely.  "Would it be possible for us to partake of the same information you've used to build your cover, Interrogator? It would seem passing strange if your servants know nothing of your family and its business." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 It was several days later when Arl heard from Pip, who had sent message to Commisar's Tavern that "the bird has landed". A few communications later, Pip had agreed to meet Arl and his "comrade" the next morning at the Tavern to fulfill his end of the bargain, assumedly to get the two of them onto Cassimere's newly docked ship. Pip had of course reminded Arl of his promise for twenty thrones when they met, and the other 60, once they were aboard.

Of course the tavern would be closed so early, but a this hour most of the hive prolls would likely be busy on their way to work and hopefully there would space enough for them to meet and talk without drawing attention.

(OOC: Please describe how you are dressing and what equipment you are taking to meet Pip) 
 

Arl dressed in the nondescript black clothes that he hoped would be seen as a dirtside laborer/longshoreman -- someone who would blend into the background and not seem too out of place.  He concealed one of his stub automatics and a set of brass knuckles on his person -- even in the Mid-Hive, it didn't pay to be unarmed. To this, he added a proper knife openly at his belt -- more of a tool than a weapon, although it would do in a pinch.
Bennosuke
The Interrogator waves his hand away at Hound's question. With a sigh he replies, " Yes, yes. I have that here for you too. " He removes a second dataslate, this one smaller and with a more simple set of keys, and hands them out to the group. " This has a summary of mine, and everyone else's cover. This way... if you all study the information provided, no one should shove their foot too far down their throat. " He raises an eyebrow at Hound as if to say, "satisfied?".

(OOC: Good call. Hope that suffices)

**************************************************  *******************

Arl and Marcella arrive and Pip is nowhere to be seen, at least at first. With nothing better to do, the two attempt to stroll the perimeter of the bar's property, doing their best to appear casual. As they move around the back of the tavern, a voice calls from the depths of the alley. " Did ya bring the the money, " Pip calls. Marcella immediately recognizes the rasping lilt of the man's voice as belonging to one born and raised in the depths of space. Turning their heads in that direction, a greasy man appears in a pair of navy blue workman coveralls. Pip's eyes dart back and forth up along the alley, before he asks, " Well, did ya? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 Arl and Marcella arrive and Pip is nowhere to be seen, at least at first. With nothing better to do, the two attempt to stroll the perimeter of the bar's property, doing their best to appear casual. As they move around the back of the tavern, a voice calls from the depths of the alley. " Did ya bring the the money, " Pip calls. Marcella immediately recognizes the rasping lilt of the man's voice as belonging to one born and raised in the depths of space. Turning their heads in that direction, a greasy man appears in a pair of navy blue workman coveralls. Pip's eyes dart back and forth up along the alley, before he asks, " Well, did ya? " 


On the way over, Marcella had chatted to Arl in a mostly one-directional conversation. There wasn't anything grand in what she said, more like mundane things, with a mixture of her love of chemistry and medicine, as well as her newly acquired pilots license thrown in.

When they reached the area of the apparent rendezvous, however, the psyker went quiet and followed Arl's leads. Pips emergence didn't spook her, as she turned about to face him, her ears detecting the accent that was so similar to hers, only rougher and thicker, given her own had been refined by a decade in the academic cloisters of the Adeptus Psykana.

Saying nothing and watching for Arl's cues, Marcella stood by his side and peered at the newcomer. If she were introduced she would say nothing as she did not want to give away the fact that she was a fellow Voidborn. Instead would offer a bright, sweet and friendly smile and small nod of acknowledgement.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
  " I will acting under the cover of Philius Jarkov, remote nephew of Lord Ican Jarkov the Great Grain Baron from planet Corcus. The role should imply power and wealth, while being remote and obscure enough to make it easy to keep cover. I have also deeply reviewed the family history and trade of the Jarkov's, and consider myself quiet the expert at this point. " 
 

Orla will regard Ezekial with suspicion before electing not to say anything on the matter of the Interrogator's choice of name.

To Hound,  'Couldn't hurt. Though I reckon I can get away with claiming that the boss doesn't tell me anything anyway.' 
rax
 "I'm sure the information will be quite sufficient,"  Hound answers calmly.

 "Yes, as locally hired help, I'm sure you could get away with being less knowledgeable about the intricacies of your employer's affairs,"  Hound agreed with Orla.  "Such a thing would, however, be unforgivable for a private secretary. I shall begin studying immediately." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Arl and Marcella arrive and Pip is nowhere to be seen, at least at first. With nothing better to do, the two attempt to stroll the perimeter of the bar's property, doing their best to appear casual. As they move around the back of the tavern, a voice calls from the depths of the alley. " Did ya bring the the money, " Pip calls. Marcella immediately recognizes the rasping lilt of the man's voice as belonging to one born and raised in the depths of space. Turning their heads in that direction, a greasy man appears in a pair of navy blue workman coveralls. Pip's eyes dart back and forth up along the alley, before he asks, " Well, did ya? " 
 

Arl fakes being surprised by Pip's arrival then fumbles into the pocket of his pants for the requisite payment, slowly counting out the thrones in worn bills and coins, the better to give the appearance of a small-time criminal.  When he reaches the requisite amount he extends it to Pip using his left hand

" All there, Pip.  If you have the way, I've got the means. "
Bennosuke
Ezekiel listens to the conversation between Orla and Hound and nods his head with satisfaction. " Very well, " he says with a nod, " though Orla, I suspect you have the time to at least do a little reading. " He waves his hand at the three of them, and then says, " Make your preparations and we will endeavor to leave for the ball in about four and a half planetary hours. Think hard about how you will equip yourselves. My understanding is that most noblemen will be allowed a single side arm, but there should be no such courtesy extended to staff. I will not forbid you from bringing any weapons, but you will need to be very smart about it if you do. I would be prepared for at least a pat down when we enter. " The Interrogator seems to focus this part on Father Milo of the three acolytes gathered, though he raises an eye toward Orla as well. Finally he says, " Unless there are any further questions, I shall dismiss you, " and raises a hand to waive the group away.

(OOC: Happy to allow for continued RP here or in the implied down time, but moving thing along, see below)

**************************************************  ****

Four and a half hours later, Interrogator Ezekiel is standing in the entryway. He is dressed in a fine evening suit complete with kelp spider's satin lapels, with a heavy dark green mantle draped over it. At his side is an ornate las pistol; one that would put Mercutio's to shame. He has trimmed and dyed his hair a jet black, and tied red and yellow ribbons through the back in what must be some Heliushean custom. He watches expectantly as the acolytes arrive, appraising their covers.

(OOC: Please describe how you have dressed, and what if any gear you are taking with you)

**************************************************  ****

Arl hands over the thrones that The Interrogator had provided to Pip, who takes the money greedily and shows no shame as he counts the money up. He nods his head with approval as he is near the end of his arithmetic and mutters, " Very good, very good. " Looking up at Arl he will say, " That looks like all of it. " Then indicating Marcella he will ask, " Whose yer friend? " His eyes study the psyker with something more than curiosity. Perhaps he recognized her thin frame and slightly paler skin as markers of a fellow void born. Yet he awaited Arl's reply.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " though Orla, I suspect you have the time to at least do a little reading. " 
 

Orla grins.  'Long as you can get someone to explain the big words to me boss. Maybe there's one of those servitors that talks around here somewhere.'  If neccessary she'll get either Marcella or Hound to explain any relevent information to her later.

On the matter of guns.  'No guns. Fair enough. If there's food I'm sure there'll be knives somewhere in case the worst happens. Or I take a gun off someone else.'  If she needed a gun at a house party then something had gone very wrong indeed, but Orla preferred to be prepared.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Orla doesn't have literacy for the record.
 


---------------

Orla is dressed like the bodyguard she is pretending to be. She wears a tailored black three piece suit with a black tie and a coat that's cut loose enough so as to not impede movement. Over her suit is a longer black coat and a belt holster containing a single autopistol that she's making no attempt to hide. The Interrogator had said no guns but she would expect to have to give it up on the way in. Surely it would look more suspiscious if she wasn't carrying. After her haircut her hair is shorter and tied back.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Arl hands over the thrones that The Interrogator had provided to Pip, who takes the money greedily and shows no shame as he counts the money up. He nods his head with approval as he is near the end of his arithmetic and mutters, " Very good, very good. " Looking up at Arl he will say, " That looks like all of it. " Then indicating Marcella he will ask, " Whose yer friend? " His eyes study the psyker with something more than curiosity. Perhaps he recognized her thin frame and slightly paler skin as markers of a fellow void born. Yet he awaited Arl's reply. 
 

Arl smiled.  " Don' worry about Marcie 'ere... she represents an "innerested party" who contributed a bit of dosh to the pot -- I had to scrape hard to get the last bit together, so I had to come to terms with a backer. "  Arl intertwined his fingers and extended his arms, his knuckles cracking as they flexed.  " Marcie 'ere is to make sure that I keep my mind on the business at hand and don' scamper off with the dosh. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl smiled.  " Don' worry about Marcie 'ere... she represents an "innerested party" who contributed a bit of dosh to the pot -- I had to scrape hard to get the last bit together, so I had to come to terms with a backer. "  Arl intertwined his fingers and extended his arms, his knuckles cracking as they flexed.  " Marcie 'ere is to make sure that I keep my mind on the business at hand and don' scamper off with the dosh. " 
 


Marcella didn't respond or say a word. Instead, she just rose her eyebrows and offered a friendly, sweet smile at Pip.
rax
Hound is wearing his washed and patched bodyglove and Administratum robes. He's on loan to the Jarkov dynasty but not part of it, so he displays his loyalty to the Imperium before the individual noble family employing him. Since guns are forbidden, he brings only his dagger - hopefully he can claim it as a ceremonial item. As far as other equipment goes, he brings his auto-quill, chrono, a data-slate, and his medikit, in case "His Lordship" should overindulge in something that disagrees with him.
Bennosuke
Ezekiel responds to Orla with a silent nod.

 
 Spoiler: OOC@Haval 
Literacy test is only needed to read something difficult, and the skill is not needed to be capable of reading... though if you want to have your character as illiterate for RPing reasons, I won't fight you on it
 


*********************************************

 Later on the landing,  The Interrogator grins at the arrival of Orla and Hound. A grin spreads across his face as he nods with approval. " Strong work you two, " he says, bringing his gloved hands together for a polite little clap.

Father Milo arrives shortly after, dressed in what must be his most expensive clerical robes. Layers of red and orange and white fabrics, shimmering silk and wrinkling crunchy linens swish with his steps and trail behind his feet. " Your confessor has arrived, " he says with a wry grin, though a little of Ezekiel's humor seems to cool at the man's arrival. Seeing this, Milo raises both hands and says, " I have come unarmed and promise to behave. "

Slowly the Interrogator replies, " Very well then. " He takes one last moment to study the three before saying, " I've procured us a private lighter that can take us to the ball... in style. While I hope you are able to enjoy little bits of tonight, I want you all to remember that you are on a mission. Any last questions before we begin? "

*********************************************

Pip studies Arl and Marcella with narrowed eyes. His haggard face contorting into an almost comical mask of confusion and distrust. He takes several shambling steps closer to Marcella, and looks her up and down. " Yer not workin' for another Rogue Trader house or somethin', right, " he croaks, half asking, half accusing. Pip even pauses to snuffle the air around the Psyker, before adding, " Cuz you got the scent of a spacer on ya. I know one when I smells one! "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip studies Arl and Marcella with narrowed eyes. His haggard face contorting into an almost comical mask of confusion and distrust. He takes several shambling steps closer to Marcella, and looks her up and down. " Yer not workin' for another Rogue Trader house or somethin', right, " he croaks, half asking, half accusing. Pip even pauses to snuffle the air around the Psyker, before adding, " Cuz you got the scent of a spacer on ya. I know one when I smells one! " 
 


Marcella shook her head.

 "I was eight when they took me off the  Sevastopol . I haven't been off-planet since. I missed out on the long legs I wanted,"  she said with a cheeky smile, holding her right hand up a few inches above her head to bring attention to her shorter than average height for a person in general, let alone a Voidborn. Additionally, twelve years during her educational and linguistical development had worn her accent down to barely existent, further lending credence to her words, all of which were true, even if she left a few things out.

 "And if I was in another Rogue Trader house, I'd be doing my best to doll myself up to attract one of his sons - not slum around the docks with this guy,"  Marc commented with a hint of mirth, gesturing with her closest thumb to Arl.

Which is what made missing out on the Solstice Ball hurt even more, because once again, all of her words were sadly true.
Bennosuke
Pip takes one last sniff at Marcella, then replies, " Very well then, " in his thin almost reedy voice. He looks her up and down, then shrugs to himself. " Right then, " he says to both, seemingly satisfied, " follow me then. We'll get you aboard The Nocturne, as promised. " Pip's hand floats down to squeeze the pouch of thrones he'd just gained.

Pip turns back up the alley and begins to lead the duo back towards the docking garages. Once the two have caught up, he explains how the Rogue Trader's ship has been docked for a few days now, and how security has decreased as the working crews have continued to service, refuel and restock the ship. The two will be able to enter once they are disguised as dock hands, and so their first stop will be to sneak into the crew's quarters and obtain uniforms for Arl and Marcella. Though the two have been to the docks several times now, it is clear that Pip is taking them via a route neither is familiar with. He winds in and out of rundown habs and boarded up shops. As the building become more densely populated with low cost hostels and pawn shops, Pip takes the two down a side street that terminates along the walls marking the perimeter of the dock. He stops at a pair of double doors with a sign that reads "Authorized Personnel Only", and scans an ID card sewn onto the end of his coverall sleeve. Leading the two into some sort of massive locker room big enough for a platoon, Pip grabs a pair of folded coveralls from a palate stacked with uniforms. He hands one to Marcella and the other to Arl. " Put these on, " he says, and with a chuckle adds, " Up to you whether you put em on over yer clothes. They don't breathe and get hot as a sun, but ye never know if they're gonna be lice ridden. "

He makes no attempt to give either privacy, though Pip's eyes seem to be not-so furtively drifting back to Marcella.
Haval
The way Ezekial was talking this up made Orla reconsider whether this was a good idea. Still, she ought to be able to handle a houseparty full of rich idiots who didn't even know who she was. Aloud she'll only say,  'Private lighter. Sounds expensive. I take it the pilot doesn't know who we really are?' 
 
 Spoiler: Orla's Literacy 

Sometimes I post because I can't think of anything else to say.  🙂

Mechanically it doesn't make any difference. I think I'm channeling some history textbooks on literacy.
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella followed "Pip", as his name was, through the grime of the space port. All the familiar sounds of her child-hood rushed back to her, and the Psyker actually found herself taking an odd comfort and enjoyment in the veritable walk down memory lane. The whirring of machines. The scent of engine grease and ozone clinging to the air. Power tools and chatter. It was just like home!

When they arrived at the changing rooms, Marcella received her jumpsuit and inspected it curiously. Pips words were true, lice weren't unknown. However, sweating like a whore in church was an equally unpleasant short-term detriment, particularly when they were here to investigate. Additionally, carrying three firearms as she was and wearing a flak coat, Marc knew that she had to choose one or the other: she could blend in, or she could stand out like a sore thumb.

Choosing the former, Marc looked around for some privacy, the wandering eyes of their companion not going unnoticed by the Psyker, who felt her skin crawl ever so slightly at the attention he was giving her. Seeing little to work with, an idea went off in Marcella's head, as she disrobed her flak coat and then strung it up between two lockers to create a make-shift curtain that would afford her the privacy to change as necessary. Satisfied and nodding once to herself, Marc slipped behind the coverings and first took off her weapon belt, her outer-thigh holsters and her shoulder holster, before ensuring the safety was on for each weapon and depositing the lot into her backpack. Then she got out of her own coveralls and changed into the navy blue coveralls provided, the larger size of the clothes rendering them somewhat loose and a touch baggy on the shorter, slim psyker.

Now that she was changed and clothed, she drew the impromptu curtain down, and folded her flak cloak neatly and placed it into her backpack, along with her weapons. Next, she rubbed some grease over her face and neck, to better mimic blending in. She knew from experience that all she really needed was to  look  like she belonged and to  look  busy, and next to no one would bother them.
Bennosuke
To Marcella's relief, Pip does not disrupt her privacy while she changes.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Will wait to allow Wynd a chance to reply/RP but can otherwise move things forward soon.

Also, how big is Marcella's backpack??? 😛
 
rax
 "We should work out code words and/or hand signals to discreetly alert one another if aid is required or our cover is blown and we need to beat a hasty retreat. Will the lighter remain on station or will the pilot leave once we've arrived at the party?"  Hound says.
Haval
 'Like a nose scratch or something? Anything worse then that I'm sure the trouble'll be obvious.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip takes one last sniff at Marcella, then replies, " Very well then, " in his thin almost reedy voice. He looks her up and down, then shrugs to himself. " Right then, " he says to both, seemingly satisfied, " follow me then. We'll get you aboard The Nocturne, as promised. " Pip's hand floats down to squeeze the pouch of thrones he'd just gained.

Pip turns back up the alley and begins to lead the duo back towards the docking garages. Once the two have caught up, he explains how the Rogue Trader's ship has been docked for a few days now, and how security has decreased as the working crews have continued to service, refuel and restock the ship. The two will be able to enter once they are disguised as dock hands, and so their first stop will be to sneak into the crew's quarters and obtain uniforms for Arl and Marcella. Though the two have been to the docks several times now, it is clear that Pip is taking them via a route neither is familiar with. He winds in and out of rundown habs and boarded up shops. As the building become more densely populated with low cost hostels and pawn shops, Pip takes the two down a side street that terminates along the walls marking the perimeter of the dock. He stops at a pair of double doors with a sign that reads "Authorized Personnel Only", and scans an ID card sewn onto the end of his coverall sleeve. Leading the two into some sort of massive locker room big enough for a platoon, Pip grabs a pair of folded coveralls from a palate stacked with uniforms. He hands one to Marcella and the other to Arl. " Put these on, " he says, and with a chuckle adds, " Up to you whether you put em on over yer clothes. They don't breathe and get hot as a sun, but ye never know if they're gonna be lice ridden. "

He makes no attempt to give either privacy, though Pip's eyes seem to be not-so furtively drifting back to Marcella. 
 

Arl changed into the proffered coveralls over his clothes, indifferent to Pip's presence.  He took care that his weapons remained concealed from Pip's view, positioned his body to keep them out of sight.
Bennosuke
Ezekiel nods in approval at Hounds idea, but can't help but roll his eyes a little at Orla. " You're both going to have your microbeads with you right, even if they aren't in your ear? " he asks with confidence, " so tap the comm three times for an emergency, but twice if you just want our attention. If it's safe, say where you are into the comm and we will try to come join you based on the level of urgency. Sound like a plan? "

He adds in reply to Hound's other question, " We will have the lighter on standby... though hopefully it won't come to that. "

**************************************************

When both members are changed, Pip says, " Very good. We should be ready then. " He pauses though and raises a finger. " There is one nibbler, " he says, " I couldn't get you two ID badges. Just stick wit' me, and don't draw too much attention to yourself though, and it shouldn't be a problem. Got it? "

Assuming their is no major protestations, Pip will lead the two down and through the locker room away from the door they entered through. Winding a corner they come to a larger pair of double doors. In red, yellow and black, a sign above the door reads,

 "Ship Bay
 Only in death does duty end " 
Pip eyes the sign momentarily then leers at Marcella and Arl. He pushes the door open, and through a series of tunnels the three walk into a dock that seems like it should be large enough to house half the population of the midhive, and filled with noise. The space is half filled by a massive rectangular space vessel, towering at least two hundred meters high and likely thrice as long. It's exterior is scarred and pocked metal and ceramite, gilded and decorated richly. Hundreds of dock workers wearing the same dark blue coveralls scurry about the dock; loading crates onto and off the vessel, running auspex devices along the vessel's surface, and crawling across the vessel surface to repair damage or work on uncovered circuitry. To even be heard over the racket of workers, Pip has to practically yell, " Ready to go in, or do you need to check somethin' first? "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel nods in approval at Hounds idea, but can't help but roll his eyes a little at Orla. " You're both going to have your microbeads with you right, even if they aren't in your ear? " he asks with confidence, " so tap the comm three times for an emergency, but twice if you just want our attention. If it's safe, say where you are into the comm and we will try to come join you based on the level of urgency. Sound like a plan? "

He adds in reply to Hound's other question, " We will have the lighter on standby... though hopefully it won't come to that. "  
 

Orla shrugs,  'Works for me.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 When both members are changed, Pip says, " Very good. We should be ready then. " He pauses though and raises a finger. " There is one nibbler, " he says, " I couldn't get you two ID badges. Just stick wit' me, and don't draw too much attention to yourself though, and it shouldn't be a problem. Got it? "

Assuming their is no major protestations, Pip will lead the two down and through the locker room away from the door they entered through. Winding a corner they come to a larger pair of double doors. In red, yellow and black, a sign above the door reads,

 "Ship Bay
 Only in death does duty end " 
Pip eyes the sign momentarily then leers at Marcella and Arl. He pushes the door open, and through a series of tunnels the three walk into a dock that seems like it should be large enough to house half the population of the midhive, and filled with noise. The space is half filled by a massive rectangular space vessel, towering at least two hundred meters high and likely thrice as long. It's exterior is scarred and pocked metal and ceramite, gilded and decorated richly. Hundreds of dock workers wearing the same dark blue coveralls scurry about the dock; loading crates onto and off the vessel, running auspex devices along the vessel's surface, and crawling across the vessel surface to repair damage or work on uncovered circuitry. To even be heard over the racket of workers, Pip has to practically yell, " Ready to go in, or do you need to check somethin' first? " 
 

Arl nodded once, indicating that he was ready, then glanced over at Marcella questioningly.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
  "Ship Bay
 Only in death does duty end " 
Pip eyes the sign momentarily then leers at Marcella and Arl. He pushes the door open, and through a series of tunnels the three walk into a dock that seems like it should be large enough to house half the population of the midhive, and filled with noise. The space is half filled by a massive rectangular space vessel, towering at least two hundred meters high and likely thrice as long. It's exterior is scarred and pocked metal and ceramite, gilded and decorated richly. Hundreds of dock workers wearing the same dark blue coveralls scurry about the dock; loading crates onto and off the vessel, running auspex devices along the vessel's surface, and crawling across the vessel surface to repair damage or work on uncovered circuitry. To even be heard over the racket of workers, Pip has to practically yell, " Ready to go in, or do you need to check somethin' first? " 
 



Marcella looked down at the floor, mostly, on their trip through the docks. When they emerged out into the cavernous shipyard where the Rogue Traders vessel was stationed, the Psyker couldn't help but look up at it and smile - the scent of grease and machinework filling her nostrils and reminding her of times gone by.

 "Ready as ever!"  she replied back with her usual friendly smile.
Bennosuke
The Interrogator nods at Orla's reply, and then poses his question to the three acolytes, " Anything else then? " He studies his company, a smaller more plaintive smirk playing on Ezekiel's lips.

********************************************

" Very good, " Pip hollars with a grin that exposes his yellowed misshapen teeth, " follow me. And try not to draw too much attention to yourselves. " He turns and begins lumbering into the docking bay, surrounded by the near deafening noise of mechanics and haulers and other dock hands hard at work... far to busy to pay much attention to the three.

(OOC: May I get a Stealth roll from both characters at +40?)
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Interrogator nods at Orla's reply, and then poses his question to the three acolytes, " Anything else then? " He studies his company, a smaller more plaintive smirk playing on Ezekiel's lips.

********************************************

" Very good, " Pip hollars with a grin that exposes his yellowed misshapen teeth, " follow me. And try not to draw too much attention to yourselves. " He turns and begins lumbering into the docking bay, surrounded by the near deafening noise of mechanics and haulers and other dock hands hard at work... far to busy to pay much attention to the three.

(OOC: May I get a Stealth roll from both characters at +40?) 
 

Arl followed in Pip's wake. doing his level best to look inconspicuous.

 
 Spoiler: Roll 
 (1d100)[ 54 ]  vs 41+10+40 = 91
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella followed Arls lead, trying to remain inconspicuous.
rax
 "Understood, Interrogator. Then we are ready to proceed at your convenience,"  Hound responds.
Haval
Orla shrugs,  'I'd say I don't know enough about these sorts of people to know what I don't know, so let's work it out as we go.' 
Bennosuke
" Very good, " Ezekiel says, his smirk shifting into a genuine smile, " follow me then. " He opens the door and leads the group out into the heat of the afternoon, his heels clacking down the flagstone walkway to the sidewalk where the promised private lighter is parked. The vehicle is an explosion of reds and oranges and gold filigree, the ship's body two rounded near-spheres joined together like the body of a massive arachnid. The smaller driver's pod is open and out front stands the valet, a severe looking man in black frock piped with blood reds. His main of greasy grey hair is tied back in a pony tail from his receding hairline, exposing an impressively wrinkled brow. As the group comes closer, the valet bows low and says, " You must be Master Jarkov. Welcome. It will be my pleasure to serve as your driver tonight. " His voice is like a creaking door, and though his words are warm, his face is expressionless. " You can call me Antilles, " the valet adds, rising from his bow. He moves to the larger carriage section of the lighter and opens the arched door for The Interrogator and his companions.

Ezekiel greets the driver jovially, though affects enough indifference to fit the part of a noble, and leads the group into the lighter. Soon the door is closed as the acolytes get themselves comfortable on velvet lined seats. The carriage is filled with a complex perfume, and Ezekiel looks around the group to gauge if they are sufficiently impressed. Then the lighter's engines take off and the vehicle is propelling itself up, up, up above the streets of the spire.

This high up, the group is well above the toxic smog clouds that hang around the midhive and cast the streets into a darkness fought off poorly by the street's gaslights. Here the sky is crystal blue, and looking out the window, you can see all the towers, and giant marble statues, and gardens that branch off of the hive's spire like so many branches off a tree trunk. The lighter continues to rise up and begins circling gently around the massive spire, it's crystal walls catching the light of the setting sun and throwing beams of yellow and orange and red across the sky.

Antilles is a master pilot, and the ride to the manor of Grand General Parniple is incredibly smooth. By the time the lighter sets down though, the sky has gone from blue to a dark . As a retired grand general, Parniple's property puts even Ser Drimmle's to shame. The lighter lands on an expansive lot, where many a fine vehicle has parked. From the lot, a cobblestone walkway leads through a massive garden of roses and lilies, marred only by the presence of a handful of security officers dressed in navy blue uniforms. As Antilles opens the door, the group is greeted by one such officer, who asks for proof of invitation, as well as everyone's name and identifications. " My name is Philius Jarkov, nephew of Lord Ican Jarkov of planet Corcus. " replies the Interrogator, applying the affect of one bored and slightly impatient. With a gloved hand, he provides the invitations, as well as his own ID, before waving the other hand toward the acolytes, " And these are my associates. " He waves the three forward, urging the group to follow suit.
Haval
Orla will try not to gawk too much at the lighter even as she can't help but wander how much it cost.  'You been doing this long Mister Antilles?'  She assumed he was at least competent but had to wander how someone get a job like this in the first place? When she was seated she'll look for a seatbelt and a way to get the hatch open quickly if she needed.  'How often do these things crash anyway? Just out of interest.'  She doesn't sound overly worried but she had never had any reason to be this high up.

On the journey Orla is very alert to any sign of turbulence but has to take in the view while she was up here. And there were supposedly planets that looked like this all the time? Didn't seem fair.

After they land Orla will endeavour to look watchful and prepared. She had seen enough professionals in this kind of role that she knew exactly how to act. After being referred to as an 'associate' she'll nod and say simply,  'Cordelia. Security.' 
Bennosuke
(OOC: I have docked Marcella one FP. Both characters pass their stealth rolls after Marcella adds her psyker power)

The two follow Pip across the bay, weaving around a pair of hands carrying a massive crate labeled "preserved rations", as he makes his way up to the massive ship. The Nocturne is a transport vessel, large enough for maybe a hundred hands and the hauling of a whole lot of cargo. Both Marcella and Arl have been out of gravity enough to understand that the Rogue Trader's vessels were likely stationed up in orbit with this being a secondary craft likely kept somewhere on board. The thought was sobering if this massive vessel was simply a tender.

Pip waves the acolytes on as he starts to head up a ramp leading onto the Nocturne. Compared to the bright halogen lights creating a veritable sun's daylight in the bay, the belly of the Nocturne is in the shadows of dusk. Walking into the Nocturne the ship's hull dulls the racket of the docking bay, throwing distant cavernous echoes. Cast in darkness, about thirty meters inside the Nocturne, Pip turns and without the noise is forced to whisper. " Well, we're inside as promised. I can show you around a little, but otherwise you two are on your own. I don't want to know what you two do, and I don't want to get involved. "

**************************************************  **************


 Orla will try not to gawk too much at the lighter even as she can't help but wander how much it cost. 'You been doing this long Mister Antilles?' She assumed he was at least competent but had to wander how someone get a job like this in the first place? When she was seated she'll look for a seatbelt and a way to get the hatch open quickly if she needed. 'How often do these things crash anyway? Just out of interest.' She doesn't sound overly worried but she had never had any reason to be this high up. 

The man raises an eyebrow at Orla's question. Perhaps he's never asked such a question. He shrugs the concern away and replies, " I've been flying since I had hair on my chest, and trust me, it used to be a lot darker. " He chuckles, his voice is heavy with some hive cant. " And I assure you, unless The Emperor himself decides to intervene, this vehicle will not crash. "

Later, the security officer gives Orla a pleasant nod of approval. She allows a curt smile then says, " May I see your paperwork as well then Cordelia. "

Father Milo profers his ID, but doesn't say anything to the officer, preferring to affect an air of haughtiness.

The security officer also looks expectantly at Hound.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 (OOC: I have docked Marcella one FP. Both characters pass their stealth rolls after Marcella adds her psyker power)

The two follow Pip across the bay, weaving around a pair of hands carrying a massive crate labeled "preserved rations", as he makes his way up to the massive ship. The Nocturne is a transport vessel, large enough for maybe a hundred hands and the hauling of a whole lot of cargo. Both Marcella and Arl have been out of gravity enough to understand that the Rogue Trader's vessels were likely stationed up in orbit with this being a secondary craft likely kept somewhere on board. The thought was sobering if this massive vessel was simply a tender.

Pip waves the acolytes on as he starts to head up a ramp leading onto the Nocturne. Compared to the bright halogen lights creating a veritable sun's daylight in the bay, the belly of the Nocturne is in the shadows of dusk. Walking into the Nocturne the ship's hull dulls the racket of the docking bay, throwing distant cavernous echoes. Cast in darkness, about thirty meters inside the Nocturne, Pip turns and without the noise is forced to whisper. " Well, we're inside as promised. I can show you around a little, but otherwise you two are on your own. I don't want to know what you two do, and I don't want to get involved. " 
 

Arl nods to Pip.   "You've done your part, although I'd not mind if'n you were to show us around a bit before you leave." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Later, the security officer gives Orla a pleasant nod of approval. She allows a curt smile then says, " May I see your paperwork as well then Cordelia. "

Father Milo profers his ID, but doesn't say anything to the officer, preferring to affect an air of haughtiness.

The security officer also looks expectantly at Hound. 
 

Orla will hand over the ID with the information she'd previously worked out with the Interrogator. There was no reason to think that anyone around here would recognise her name but she was adverse to using it in a place like this on general principles.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker followed along, the warp rippling itself around her body and helping her veritably blend into her surroundings, almost as if she wasn't there at all. One moment she was visibly next to Arl, the next - gone. It helped keep their little trio undetected, or at least unnoticed, as stealth had never been Marcella's forte.

Nevertheless, the Voidborn  loved  the docking bay, the scents alone taking her back to childhood. She wore a friendly and happy smile across her pleasant features, as Pip took them beneath the belly of the huge transport ship that would be ferrying them into orbit.

Wait - into orbit?!

Marcella wondered for a moment...but hadn't the Rogue Trader been landing his ship in the wastes, outside the Hive? Curious.

 "Where do you recommend staying out of sight on board during the trip into orbit?"  she asked Pip quietly.
Bennosuke
Pip shrugs at Arl's question and replies, " Is there something in particular you were looking for. " However, his eyes go wide when Marcella speaks up, and he stutters, " You... you're gonna hide on the ship? "

**************************************************  ***

The security officer nods approvingly at Orla's paperwork, and awaits reply from the others.

(OOC: Will give Rax another day or so to post in case he wants to do something interesting, then will otherwise just move things along.)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Internally, Marcella was a touch worried: wasn't that the point? Had she boobed somehow and overplayed their hand? As far as she understood with Arls' intention, they were going to be infiltrating the Rogue Traders ship, and to do so, they'd need to board this transport shuttle, which Pip was supposed to help them do. Or had Arl not revealed that?

Then she recalled the leering glances from the man earlier in the change-rooms. Perhaps she could use his positive disposition towards her to deflect?

The Psyker flashed another one of her bright, friendly smiles before stifled-laughter into her open palm.

 "You should see the look on your face!"  she laughed gently, before sighing,  "Go back into orbit? I wish mate, work keeps me here. Seeing all this stuff takes me back, you really get to miss it all"  she gestures to Arl, hoping the assassin would now distract Pip with questions on what he wanted to see.
Bennosuke
Hound hands the security officer his ID, and curtly introduces himself using the name of his cover (OOC: I can't find what Hound chose for the name of his false identity?). The officer reviews the papers and hands them back to Hound politely. She then pulls a small brass whistle from a necklace around her pocket, and brings the object to her lips. Puffing her lips, the officer blows into the whistle, which lights up with green circuit inlay but produces no sound.

Moments later, a servo-skull floats towards the group, the yellow halogen lamp hanging from its mechandrite arm casting a yellow cone of light onto the ground below it. You can see that folded up behind the skull, like a deadly pony-tail, is a small las-shooter attached by a second mechandrite. " Hades shall accompany you across the garden to the mansion. Please do not stray from the path and Hades' light. " The hum of the servo-skull's grav-pulsers thrum above you as the drone begins to float across the yard, as it attempts to keep it's lamp light cast over the group.

The skull traverses a path across the garden over a cobblestone walkway. Giggles and whispers seem to pour off distant shadowed corners of the garden, though this noise eventually becomes drowned out by the growing cacophony of the party going on inside the brightly it towering four story mansion.

(OOC: Anyone want to do anything before we move inside?)

******************************************

Pip's glare bellies his continued suspicion, and he looks to Arl as well awaiting to be reassured that the two were not planning something outrageously stupid.

 
 Spoiler: OOC@Wynde 
Pleasee also look at the OOC thread to weigh in on our discussion about homebrew rules, as I was hoping to get at least one more player's input.
 
Haval
To the officer,  'Does anyone ever argue with the skull?' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip's glare bellies his continued suspicion, and he looks to Arl as well awaiting to be reassured that the two were not planning something outrageously stupid.  
 

Arl turns to Pip and smiles.  " Naw, Pip... What would there to be gained by stowin' away?  We're jes' looking for a place to duck in case someone comes about, is all... it would be awkward to be caught without proper identification an' the like.  Now, you wuz gonna show us around a bit, neh? "
Bennosuke
The security officer's face seems show confusion, though most of her face is hidden behind her helmet. Almost defensively she replies, " The servo skulls will direct guests to the mansion. They are programmed to fire upon anyone who attempts to leave the path, venture unaccompanied into the gardens. "

******************************************

Pip's face remains a mask of concern, but after a sigh he replies slowly, " Very well. Why don't I show you the cargo hold then. " His eyes drift slowly between Arl and Marcella, studying each of them closely. Then he turns on his heels and begins to lead the two down the dimly lit corridor. The humor seems to have vanished from the man, as he moves silently through the ship, his foot falls echoing dully. Distant ambient noises echo back through the hall, sounds of machinery, muted foot steps, and the muffled sound of far off voices. Only half the overhead lights are running and these seem to be casting light at half power. The walls of the corridor are slick with cold condensation, and it is a good ten to twenty degrees colder the farther into the ship that Pip leads.

After a serious of turns forks through the labyrinth of halls, Pip leads the two acolytes into a large chamber, the ceiling rising nearly thirty meters, and supported by rows of brick rectangular columns. Palates and boxes line the cargo bay, covering about half the surface of the floor. Many of the crates and palate are bare or lie open and empty. The floor is marred by watery footsteps going into and out of the cargo hold. Once inside, Pip turns and says, " This is one of the busier rooms, so we won't have privacy very long here. " Again he studies Marcella and Arl with suspicion, watching them closely as they move about the room.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The security officer's face seems show confusion, though most of her face is hidden behind her helmet. Almost defensively she replies, " The servo skulls will direct guests to the mansion. They are programmed to fire upon anyone who attempts to leave the path, venture unaccompanied into the gardens. " 
 

  "It would appear that General Parniple is most protective of his gardens,"  Hound comments drily.  "Have previous revellers caused much damage?" 
Bennosuke
The security officer turns her attention towards Hound, her demeanor continuing to sour. " The General has a right to his privacy, " she huffs, adding proudly, " and we have never had such an incident occur during one of The General's parties. "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip's face remains a mask of concern, but after a sigh he replies slowly, " Very well. Why don't I show you the cargo hold then. " His eyes drift slowly between Arl and Marcella, studying each of them closely. Then he turns on his heels and begins to lead the two down the dimly lit corridor. The humor seems to have vanished from the man, as he moves silently through the ship, his foot falls echoing dully. Distant ambient noises echo back through the hall, sounds of machinery, muted foot steps, and the muffled sound of far off voices. Only half the overhead lights are running and these seem to be casting light at half power. The walls of the corridor are slick with cold condensation, and it is a good ten to twenty degrees colder the farther into the ship that Pip leads.

After a serious of turns forks through the labyrinth of halls, Pip leads the two acolytes into a large chamber, the ceiling rising nearly thirty meters, and supported by rows of brick rectangular columns. Palates and boxes line the cargo bay, covering about half the surface of the floor. Many of the crates and palate are bare or lie open and empty. The floor is marred by watery footsteps going into and out of the cargo hold. Once inside, Pip turns and says, " This is one of the busier rooms, so we won't have privacy very long here. " Again he studies Marcella and Arl with suspicion, watching them closely as they move about the room. 
 

Arl makes an exaggerated look of amazement, scanning the hold as if impressed by its size, going through the motions of gawking as he looks for anything interesting amongst the pallets.

 
 Spoiler: Awareness Check 
 (1d100)[ 41 ]  vs Perception of 40 and Awareness +10 = 50
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip's face remains a mask of concern, but after a sigh he replies slowly, " Very well. Why don't I show you the cargo hold then. " His eyes drift slowly between Arl and Marcella, studying each of them closely. Then he turns on his heels and begins to lead the two down the dimly lit corridor. The humor seems to have vanished from the man, as he moves silently through the ship, his foot falls echoing dully. Distant ambient noises echo back through the hall, sounds of machinery, muted foot steps, and the muffled sound of far off voices. Only half the overhead lights are running and these seem to be casting light at half power. The walls of the corridor are slick with cold condensation, and it is a good ten to twenty degrees colder the farther into the ship that Pip leads.

After a serious of turns forks through the labyrinth of halls, Pip leads the two acolytes into a large chamber, the ceiling rising nearly thirty meters, and supported by rows of brick rectangular columns. Palates and boxes line the cargo bay, covering about half the surface of the floor. Many of the crates and palate are bare or lie open and empty. The floor is marred by watery footsteps going into and out of the cargo hold. Once inside, Pip turns and says, " This is one of the busier rooms, so we won't have privacy very long here. " Again he studies Marcella and Arl with suspicion, watching them closely as they move about the room. 
 


When Pip turns and they have a couple seconds of privacy, Marcella looks at Arl and silently mouths a  'Sorry!'  in recognition she should have shut up and not said anything.

Like most of the area's they had been through, this was a trip down memory lane for the Psyker. For some the idea of being encased in steel corridors as the only protection against the freezing vacuum of space was rather uncomfortable - but for Marc, it was home.

Like Arl, she too rubber-necked the place, her warm, brown eyes open in delight, a sweet an adventurous smile on her face as she took it all in. Simultaneously, she was mentally going over as much of the area as she could, looking for exits, places to hide, control panels etc.

 OOC: 
__________________
 
 Spoiler 
General Awareness for anything useful:  (1d100)[ 58 ]  vs TN 53

General Tech-use to notice anything useful:  (1d100)[ 10 ]  vs TN 53
 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The security officer's face seems show confusion, though most of her face is hidden behind her helmet. Almost defensively she replies, " The servo skulls will direct guests to the mansion. They are programmed to fire upon anyone who attempts to leave the path, venture unaccompanied into the gardens. " 
 

 'Then I'm glad to hear that you're looking after us.'  Orla said with apparent sincerity.
Bennosuke
Pip eyes the acolytes, noticing how both of them have stopped to survey the cargo hold. He'll place both hands on his hips and say, " Very well then. I take it you have no more need of me? I trust you'll be able to find your way around then? "

Arl studies the area but identifies no clear signs of danger. The room has a somewhat musty stale odor, but there isn't even any signs that the cargo hold has been used to store any toxic or caustic chemicals.

(OOC: Arl passes his Awareness test. There is nothing uniquely dangerous in the cargo hold, though maybe there is information in that as well. If he is looking for clues, he will need to make a Search roll... I checked, and Arl does not have this skill, so you couldn't have just swapped dice pools to get the success. )

Marcella as well can't find any signs of danger, though she is less certain about her evaluations. She does find a very interesting palate that is works on anti-grav propulsion. After about a minute of looking it up and down, she has a good sense for how it would be operated... perhaps it could be useful later.

(OOC: Marcella makes a successful tech use roll, used to repair or study the inner workings of a machine)

**************************************************  *************

Following the completion of their conversation with the security officer, the group is led by the floating servo skull across the garden towards the towering mansion. The entrance to the abode includes a walk up a grand flight of ivory stairs onto a porch lined with great stone columns, where several security guards march back and forth dutifully. The arched double doors are about three persons high, and swung open so that the bright yellow light and din of conversation flood out onto the porch. Ezekiel gives his companions each one last stern glare, before leading the way inside, while the servo skull remains floating at the threshold.

The group is greeted by a massive lump of flesh of a servitor, towering at least seven feet and three feet in shoulder width. Where its head should be is the taxidermized head of a bull, presumably preserved and innervate by a series of wires and tubes running up the back of its neck and sprouting from its triangular ears. It is dressed in traditional finery, all black and white robes, which stand in dark contrast to the rainbow of fiery colors worn by the guests. The servitor extends a hand and wordlessly receives the invitation proffered by the Interrogator. It raises the invitation up and drops it down into the depth of its bull throat, guzzling down the paper, with the sound of whirring motors. From a vox caster somewhere in its chest, the thing booms, " Announcing the arrival of Master Philius Jarkov of planet Carcus, and his retinue. "

The party goers nearby turn around for one bored second to take stock of Ezekiel and the acolytes before turning back to their conversations. The servitor makes no attempt to recover the invitations from Hound or Orla.

The foyer of the mansion is a massive expansive room, that puts Drimmle's own to shame (though that one was blown to bits during their last encounter). This was large enough for the nearly 100 party members, lavish furniture, and various exotic tropical plants and statues. Servants carrying refreshments move swiftly between party goers. In its own way, the party is like the busy streets of the midhive during worktime, the noise and crush of bodies. But the wealth here, both of the mansion and its current occupants is the greatest difference. Men are dressed in crisp military uniforms or robes of silks and linens and fibers that Orla and Hound have never seen. Jewelery of glass and gold and gems sparkle from the temples and throats and ears of every female, and some of the men. Many of the women are garbed in dresses so exotic and shamefully revealing that it would make an average person's face blush. One gets the sense that a single party member could afford to pay for the home and food of a single family of the midhive for a year without any significant damage to their wallets.

No one of note is immediately noticeable, though there is so much going on, it will likely take some effort to get anywhere within the massive entranceway alone!
Haval
Orla will take a good look at the bull headed servitor on the way inside. Rich people were weird.

Inside the party proper it was hard not to look impressed. Speaking quietly to the others,  'Imagine coming in here as one of this lot. Must be nice.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip eyes the acolytes, noticing how both of them have stopped to survey the cargo hold. He'll place both hands on his hips and say, " Very well then. I take it you have no more need of me? I trust you'll be able to find your way around then? "

Arl studies the area but identifies no clear signs of danger. The room has a somewhat musty stale odor, but there isn't even any signs that the cargo hold has been used to store any toxic or caustic chemicals.

(OOC: Arl passes his Awareness test. There is nothing uniquely dangerous in the cargo hold, though maybe there is information in that as well. If he is looking for clues, he will need to make a Search roll... I checked, and Arl does not have this skill, so you couldn't have just swapped dice pools to get the success. )

Marcella as well can't find any signs of danger, though she is less certain about her evaluations. She does find a very interesting palate that is works on anti-grav propulsion. After about a minute of looking it up and down, she has a good sense for how it would be operated... perhaps it could be useful later.

(OOC: Marcella makes a successful tech use roll, used to repair or study the inner workings of a machine) 
 


Marcella offers a sweet smile and wave to Pip as he announces his departure, her voice remaining silent as she watched him leave the area, resigning both Arl and herself to the privacy of the cargo hold.

Once she was sure he was out of ear-shot, Marcella moved close to Arl and whispered,  "So, what's next?"  she asked with audible excitement.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Pip eyes the acolytes, noticing how both of them have stopped to survey the cargo hold. He'll place both hands on his hips and say, " Very well then. I take it you have no more need of me? I trust you'll be able to find your way around then? "

Arl studies the area but identifies no clear signs of danger. The room has a somewhat musty stale odor, but there isn't even any signs that the cargo hold has been used to store any toxic or caustic chemicals.

(OOC: Arl passes his Awareness test. There is nothing uniquely dangerous in the cargo hold, though maybe there is information in that as well. If he is looking for clues, he will need to make a Search roll... I checked, and Arl does not have this skill, so you couldn't have just swapped dice pools to get the success. )

Marcella as well can't find any signs of danger, though she is less certain about her evaluations. She does find a very interesting palate that is works on anti-grav propulsion. After about a minute of looking it up and down, she has a good sense for how it would be operated... perhaps it could be useful later.

(OOC: Marcella makes a successful tech use roll, used to repair or study the inner workings of a machine)

**************************************************  ************* 
 

Arl smiles at Pip and nods " I'd say you'd held up your end of the bargain.  Hopefully we can do some more business soon. "

Arl looks about the hold for an unopened crate.

 
 Spoiler: Die Rolls 
 (1d100)[ 50 ]  vs 20 (1/2 Perception)
 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla will take a good look at the bull headed servitor on the way inside. Rich people were weird.

Inside the party proper it was hard not to look impressed. Speaking quietly to the others,  'Imagine coming in here as one of this lot. Must be nice.'  
 

  "Wealth has its advantages,"  Hound agrees,  "but it is a fact that most of the people here will be living in constant fear of losing their wealth and privilege. Consequently, persons of high status are frequently abusers recreational pharmaceuticals, alcohol, and other vices which ultimately lead to corruption of the body and spirit. They often end their days far from the blessed light of the Emperor,"  he states matter of factly, as if in no doubt that Orla will agree that this is a singularly undesirable outcome.

 "We should perhaps begin by working our way around the outside of this throng. I doubt it will be acceptable for either of us to immediately attempt conversation with any of the guests, so we should scout the area first and see if an opportunity presents itself,"  he suggests.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Wealth has its advantages,"  Hound agrees,  "but it is a fact that most of the people here will be living in constant fear of losing their wealth and privilege. Consequently, persons of high status are frequently abusers recreational pharmaceuticals, alcohol, and other vices which ultimately lead to corruption of the body and spirit. They often end their days far from the blessed light of the Emperor,"  he states matter of factly, as if in no doubt that Orla will agree that this is a singularly undesirable outcome.

 "We should perhaps begin by working our way around the outside of this throng. I doubt it will be acceptable for either of us to immediately attempt conversation with any of the guests, so we should scout the area first and see if an opportunity presents itself,"  he suggests. 
 

 'When you're rich enough I'd say you can fall pretty damn far without anyone being that bothered.'  Orla responded.  'Might be easier to talk to the guests when they're drunker, but I can always talk to the staff in the meantime. It's not like they're going to say no. We splitting up? Given I'm supposed to be the bodyguard and all.' 
Bennosuke
(OOC: Though the place is massive, I won't make you roll to find empty crates in a cargo hold)

In the back of the hold, Arl is able to find a series of crates that are empty. They are big enough to comfortably hold a human if they curled up in a ball. Of course, who knew when the ship would be taking off, and then you'd have to worry about food and water and all of that. There was also the possibility that the crates would be used at some point before take off to stock up on supplies.

**************************************************  *************

The Interrogator listens to the acolytes discuss before taking a deep sigh. " Well I am going to start socializing. You can follow me if you want, otherwise, split up... just don't draw too much attention to yourselves. " He gives the two a stern glare, then turns and starts walking slowly into the room. Several steps in, he makes eye contact with a pair of young women in beautiful costumes and in a jovial voice, arms raised, calls out, " Greetings ladies. My name is Philius. I only just landed. Would you be so kind as to show this stranger around. " Even from behind, you can imagine the friendly grin on his face as he approaches the two tittering women.

(OOC: If you are breaking off, feel free to start with a Search, scrutiny, inquiry or other roll based on how you want to start off your participation in the party scene)
Haval
 'Then everyone feel free to call me if anyone's being a ****.'  Orla didn't expect anything of that sort to happen but felt like she ought to be prepared anyway. She will get a drink from the nearest waiter. She does intend to sip it at least, but it's mostly to help her blend in.

Orla intends to get a look at General Parniple from a distance if their host is actually here already. Perhaps Durchesse would show up in his orbit eventually.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

I don't think it's come up but do we know what Durchesse looks like?

Search vs. Per 39
 (1d100)[ 33 ] 
 
Bennosuke
It doesn't take Orla long to scope out the mansion. She moves through the party with purpose, eyes mostly sliding off her. She pads out of the foyer and into an even larger living, large enough to be dotted throughout with full life-size marble statues, couches long enough to seat a small underhive gang, and to comfortably entertain another hundred guests. As she enters deeper, Orla spots a group of men, most in military uniform, gathered in a corner. Their posture, their even spacing, their gestures, all would betray their background even if their blue and orange uniforms didn't. And all men stand at attention toward one. The General towers over his compatriots, a billy goat of a man with a massive burn scar covering his forehead and extending down to one side where the ear has been replaced by the mechanicus. Despite the jovial atmosphere, Parniple seems absolutely humorless, and very uninterested in the rest of the party.
rax
Hound heads off in the opposite direction from Orla, thinking to rendezvous with her once he completes the circuit from his direction. As he moves along the edges of the gathering he keeps an eye out for other servants to chat with in order to find out who's in attendance and whether or not Lord Durchess has been seen yet. If questioned, he makes no secret of the fact that his own master is attending in the hopes of meeting Durchess.

 
 Spoiler: Inquiry test 
Trying for Inquiry using Seen This Before talent, so rolling vs. Int 60.

 (1d100)[ 30 ] 
 
Haval
Orla will watch the group around Parniple for a few moments to see if they were talking to anyone who wasn't in uniform. To the microbead quietly,  'The General doesn't seem to be enjoying himself much.'  Maybe rich people only put on parties like this for clout? There was probably no point in hanging around watching the man in case Durchesse showed up. Orla will watch the rest of the party for anyone that looked important. Most of the people here looked wealthy if they weren't working for the General, but presumably the most important people at the party had their own retinues.

 
 Spoiler 

Going to wait to hear the result of Rax's Inquiry test
 
Bennosuke
At first all that Hound finds are the servants handing out catered hors d'oeuvre. These individuals, dressed in dark formal attire stick out sorely from the brightly attired party goers, but they move about with too much intention seeming to ignore Hound's inquiries. But moving in a little more deeply, Hound finds a second group of servants moving about, mostly clearing away drinks and cleaning up spills. These servants, young and anxious and hairless, seem to have more time, and docilly answer the man's questions without hesitation. Lord Durchesse was indeed in the building. He was reportedly with his retinue and others in what the servants described as the upstairs public study, according to a particularly sallow looking boy-servant. The boy points a skinny chicken finger towards an enormous stairwell, decorated with an ornate foreign rug that runs the length of the case.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 (OOC: Though the place is massive, I won't make you roll to find empty crates in a cargo hold)

In the back of the hold, Arl is able to find a series of crates that are empty. They are big enough to comfortably hold a human if they curled up in a ball. Of course, who knew when the ship would be taking off, and then you'd have to worry about food and water and all of that. There was also the possibility that the crates would be used at some point before take off to stock up on supplies.  
 

Arl cast about looking for manifests or other internal documentation associated with the crates.

 
 Spoiler: Die Rolls 
 (1d100)[ 64 ]  vs a base of 20 (PER of 40, halved for untrained)
 
rax
 "My thanks, boy, you do your master proud,"  Hound thanked the young servant.

Taking his time to complete the circuit, he observes the party goers carefully as he moves to meet up with Orla, trying to commit as many of them to memory as possible. Finally, he finds Orla on the other side of the foyer.  "I have discovered that Lord Durchesse is currently in the upstairs public study,"  he reports, nodding towards the stairwell that the serving boy had indicated.  "Do you wish to investigate or shall we alert 'Master Jarkov' first?" 
Haval
Orla is doing her best to try not to be noticed by anyone in the party, which mostly looks like giving the impression that she's always on the way to somewhere else. She is glad to see Hound.

 'Does he want to meet the guy? Maybe we can have a look around upstairs first. If all goes well, maybe we can get a look at the people Durchesse has with him. If not, we just ask the nice security man to show us where the toilet is.' 
rax
 "Your jobs will be to gather any information you can on Durchesse and his dealings. Figure out who might be involved with him in whatever this illicit xenos trade is, and figure what exactly they are up to. Anything goes, as long as you don't blow your cover or draw too much attention to yourselves. I will be around, but you should feel free to act on your own impulses and follow any leads you think worthwhile. Are we clear? " Hound quotes their leader verbatim.

 "Given our instructions, it would be within our mandate to take stock of the situation without disturbing the Interrogator's socializing first. We should ascend, observe, and report,"  he agrees.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Given our instructions, it would be within our mandate to take stock of the situation without disturbing the Interrogator's socializing first. We should ascend, observe, and report,"  he agrees. 
 

 'Then let's go for a wander and see if anyone tries to stop us.'  Orla will follow Hounds lead while keeping a look out for any sign of security personel.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Awareness (+20) vs. Per 39
 (1d100)[ 31 ] 
 
Bennosuke
To Arl's dismay, the empty crates are mostly unlabeled. Milling about the rest of the vast area, he finds some crates with scrolls pinned to them for various exotic items; spices from foreign planets, seeds, dried grasses, and bolts of fabric. But no matter where he looks, there is nothing particularly incriminating or useful.

**************************************************  ******

The two make their way up the impressive stairs, which are wide enough for several small groups of party goers to be stopped chatting idly, and wide enough for Orla and Hound to pass by without bothering anyone. Once upstairs, the two find themselves staring down an impressively long and open hallway, with doors exiting off on either side for what seems like nearly a kilometer. Treading down the hall however, it becomes clear where the public study is. Rather than passing a closed door, they find a thrice wide unobstructed frame, into which they find sumptuously decorated study, again large enough to entertain at least 50 guests. However the space is mostly empty, except for a group of maybe ten men huddled together in the back, smoking cigars, and a handful of personal security, all of whom are standing at the doorframe, staring with guarded suspicion at Hound and Orla.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella peered and looked about the docking bay, her mind racing with the possibility of actually  boarding  the transport and heading straight to the heart of Casimire's little xeno-smuggling empire!

She could just see it now.

Land aboard. Covers intact. Make their way through the ship. A few close calls. Gather the incriminating evidence they need. A fire fight. Running. Boarding a ship and making a daring escape. Landing back in the Hive to gushing applause from the Inquisitor and Ezikiel.

Ahh...if only.

Marc knew better than anyone the...challenges, such an approach would encounter. And so, dutifully, choosing the safer and more efficient option, the psyker put her knowledge of ships and space-docks to use as she swivelled her head around in search of the flight tower.

 "Psst, Arl!"  she'd whisper to her companion, drawing closer to him.

 "We should look for one of the control towers that controls and monitors landings and departures; they'll have all the flight logs and data we need to have a good idea of where Casimire's ship is, where he sends transports to make delivers outside the Hive and the flight transponder codes of all his transports so we can track them in real time." 


OOC:
______________
 
 Spoiler 


All of these rolls are for gauging where a flight control tower should be and how to access it:


Awareness check for Marc:  (1d100)[ 6 ]  vs TN 53

Substitute tech-use check for Marc:  (1d100)[ 65 ]  vs TN 53

Substitute Pilot (Civilian Craft) check for Marc:  (1d100)[ 16 ]  vs TN 43
 
Haval
Orla considers taking Hound's hand and leading him further down the hallway as if they had a destination in mind. But, since the guards were already looking, she decides to lean into it.  'A lady downstairs said there was a place to smoke up here somewhere.'  She points into the room where the group of men were clearly smoking.  'Are we allowed in there?' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 


Marcella peered and looked about the docking bay, her mind racing with the possibility of actually  boarding  the transport and heading straight to the heart of Casimire's little xeno-smuggling empire!

She could just see it now.

Land aboard. Covers intact. Make their way through the ship. A few close calls. Gather the incriminating evidence they need. A fire fight. Running. Boarding a ship and making a daring escape. Landing back in the Hive to gushing applause from the Inquisitor and Ezikiel.

Ahh...if only.

Marc knew better than anyone the...challenges, such an approach would encounter. And so, dutifully, choosing the safer and more efficient option, the psyker put her knowledge of ships and space-docks to use as she swivelled her head around in search of the flight tower.

 "Psst, Arl!"  she'd whisper to her companion, drawing closer to him.

 "We should look for one of the control towers that controls and monitors landings and departures; they'll have all the flight logs and data we need to have a good idea of where Casimire's ship is, and where he sends transports to make delivers outside the Hive." 


OOC:
______________
 
 Spoiler 


All of these rolls are for gauging where a flight control tower should be and how to access it:


Awareness check for Marc: [roll0] vs TN 53

Substitute tech-use check for Marc: [roll1] vs TN 53

Substitute Pilot (Civilian Craft) check for Marc: [roll2] vs TN 43
 
 
 

Arl nodded.  " I don't want to leave here empty-handed, although, if nothing else, we know where he docks and how to get into the bay in a pinch.  "

Arl gives the nearly-empty cargo hold one last look of annoyance.

" Let's get going -- I don't trust Pip as far as I could spit the Golden Throne.  I suspect he'd sell his clanmates out for the price of a drink. "

With that, Arl makes an "after you" gesture to Marcella.
Bennosuke
A man who looks ex-military, but in a uniform of satin and silks steps between the two and the room. His thin lips pull back in a rather unfriendly grin and he shakes his head in the negative. " This is private, " the man says through tobacco stained teeth, " find another room. " He nods his head towards the long hallway, " try the saltwater pool about five doors down. "

(OOC: Feel free to make some sort of social or other roll if you want here)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc nods once in Arls direction, before giving a quick look at the huge transport ship to their side, then back to the dock as a whole, before back to Arl.

 "I think we can get the flight logs, data and transponder codes from this ship,"  she gestured to the cargo vessel, "with that, we can calculate where Casimire is sending his ships to drop the xeno-artefacts off to, and we can use the Hive's radar systems to track them!"

Turning around, Arl in tow, Marcella inhaled the warp unto herself in what was becoming an easier effort - her image shimmering and seemingly blending in with her surroundings. For Arl it was relatively easy to follow her, given his proximity and knowing what to look for. But for those not in the know, the pskyer had fantastic camouflage as she led the assassin around the perimeter of the cargo ship towards an entrance port they could both pass through, and make their way to the cockpit to download the data they needed, before high-tailing it out of here.
Haval
 'Thanks.'  Orla will pull a packet of lho sticks from her jacket and take one out to light.  'You boys the bodyguards then? How's your guy to work for? Mine's a little pushy.'  She said the last part fully thinking of Ezekial. She'll offer the packet to the man who had spoken to see if he wanted one.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Charm to put up with Orla being nosey
vs. Charm 41
 (1d100)[ 7 ] 

A good roll when I needed it, thats odd
 
Bennosuke
Marcella leads Arl through the ship, doing their best to soften their echoing footsteps as they make their way toward the ship's cockpit. It was Marcella's assessment that the vessel's navigation cogitator and travel logs would be held there. As they draw nearer, the hallways begins to narrow, and the lights dim further. Then they hear the sound of footfalls drawing closer, though there is no door or hallways to duck into.

Marcella finds an area of the wall dressed heavily in shadow to slip into, but Arl is not as fast and does not have the benefit of warp powers. A pair of malnourished men lumber into view, both dressed in the coveralls of the dock workers. One man is hairy like an ape but damp with sweat, and carrying a metal toolbox that must weight nearly 20kg. The other one is hairless and skeletal, his sallow face half hidden under a fire-protective visor. The two catch sight of Arl, not yet noticing Marcella. The big one with the tool box nods his head in greeting towards Arl, but says, " We got everything repaired over here. Lookin' for something? " There is only a hint of suspicion in his voice.

**************************************************  *******

The man stiffens as Orla reaches into her coat pocket, and the several bodyguards behind him all twitch, ready for action. But his reaction softens as Orla withdraws the lho sticks. " Somethin' like that, " the man says, relaxing enough to attempt to flatten out a crease in his satin jacket with his hands. When Orla offers him a lho, he turns over one shoulder to check on the group of wealthy nobles deep within the study. Waving away the offer, he replies, " That's okay. " His stern expression is broken by a friendly grin, before he adds, " We get paid enough at least. "
Haval
 'Oh really.'  Orla grinned as she looked for a lighter.  'You ever need extra bodies? Just in case your guy decides to go somewhere dangerous.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Marcella leads Arl through the ship, doing their best to soften their echoing footsteps as they make their way toward the ship's cockpit. It was Marcella's assessment that the vessel's navigation cogitator and travel logs would be held there. As they draw nearer, the hallways begins to narrow, and the lights dim further. Then they hear the sound of footfalls drawing closer, though there is no door or hallways to duck into.

Marcella finds an area of the wall dressed heavily in shadow to slip into, but Arl is not as fast and does not have the benefit of warp powers. A pair of malnourished men lumber into view, both dressed in the coveralls of the dock workers. One man is hairy like an ape but damp with sweat, and carrying a metal toolbox that must weight nearly 20kg. The other one is hairless and skeletal, his sallow face half hidden under a fire-protective visor. The two catch sight of Arl, not yet noticing Marcella. The big one with the tool box nods his head in greeting towards Arl, but says, " We got everything repaired over here. Lookin' for something? " There is only a hint of suspicion in his voice. 
 




Hidden in the shadows, her image camouflaged against the corridor and unseen, Marcella remains silent as she watches the conversation. She could see that the two workers weren't yet suspicious and were treating Arl as if he was supposed to be here, so hopefully that's all it was come to.

Nevertheless, Marc poised herself to strike if necessary.

OOC:
_____________________

Holding action in case anything goes down.
Bennosuke
The bodyguard chuckles at Orla's offer, his grin widening to show crooked teeth. " I assume you're hear serving someone? Wouldn't they be miffed if you deserted them? " Noticing Orla's search, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a rather ornate hand lighter and opens it with a metallic click, offering her the orange flame.

**************************************************  *************

Marcella remains unseen.

(OOC: Will wait for Wynde)
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The bodyguard chuckles at Orla's offer, his grin widening to show crooked teeth. " I assume you're hear serving someone? Wouldn't they be miffed if you deserted them? " Noticing Orla's search, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a rather ornate hand lighter and opens it with a metallic click, offering her the orange flame.  
 

 'Thank you.'  Orla accepts the man's offer.  'Well not right now obviously. If I go around breaking contracts I'd get a reputation and no one would want to hire me, but I've always got to think about the next job. Just in case.'  She'll pause to take a drag on the lho stick.  'Course, if you have a lot of mates maybe you don't need the help. You ex-PDF?' 
Bennosuke
The man nods his head through Orla's banter, but raises his eye with curiosity at her question at the end. " Eh, something like that, " he says, a little cagy. Then he nods back at Orla and asks, " You? " He also eyes Hound, Orla's companion with a bit of suspicion.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man nods his head through Orla's banter, but raises his eye with curiosity at her question at the end. " Eh, something like that, " he says, a little cagy. Then he nods back at Orla and asks, " You? " He also eyes Hound, Orla's companion with a bit of suspicion. 
 

 'Something like that.'  Orla repeats the man's evasion.  'You know how it is.'  Noting the man's look to Hound,  'Don't worry about him, he's alright.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

I think I've exhausted this conversation unless he reconsiders offering Orla a job before we leave. Will give Rax a minute
 
rax
 "Adept Third Class Toomes, personal secretary to His Excellency, Master Philius Jarkov of Carcus. On loan from the Divisio Recordari,"  Hound answers, his attention suddenly snapping back to the conversation.  "We are...off-worlders,"  he adds by way of explanation.
Bennosuke
The body guard raises an eye at Hound, and replies flatly, " I see... " He looks back to Orla a small expression of confusion playing on his face. He snaps his lighter closed and stuffs it back into his fine coat. " Well, unless there is something else we can help you with, " he says with a sigh, " I suppose ya best be moving on. " He eyes Hound a gain with suspicion, and seems to be waiting for the man to reply, perhaps in protest or maybe just with more to say.
rax
 "Apologies for any confusion, I am as yet unfamiliar with proper protocol in your Hive. My master and I are off-worlders. This one is a local hire,"  Hound adds, gesturing to Orla.

 "Yes, moving on. Or do you wish to socialize further?"  he asks Orla, apparently oblivious to the guard's suspicious gaze.  "Master Jarkov has not yet indicated that he requires us to return to his side." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Marcella leads Arl through the ship, doing their best to soften their echoing footsteps as they make their way toward the ship's cockpit. It was Marcella's assessment that the vessel's navigation cogitator and travel logs would be held there. As they draw nearer, the hallways begins to narrow, and the lights dim further. Then they hear the sound of footfalls drawing closer, though there is no door or hallways to duck into.

Marcella finds an area of the wall dressed heavily in shadow to slip into, but Arl is not as fast and does not have the benefit of warp powers. A pair of malnourished men lumber into view, both dressed in the coveralls of the dock workers. One man is hairy like an ape but damp with sweat, and carrying a metal toolbox that must weight nearly 20kg. The other one is hairless and skeletal, his sallow face half hidden under a fire-protective visor. The two catch sight of Arl, not yet noticing Marcella. The big one with the tool box nods his head in greeting towards Arl, but says, " We got everything repaired over here. Lookin' for something? " There is only a hint of suspicion in his voice.  
 

Arl nods a greeting in return, putting a look of confusion and aggravation on his face.  " Nah, someone just pullin' a prank on the new guy, tellin' me to get stuff from the forward hold. " he said sourly.  He sidled up towards them, his right hand rubbing on the fabric of his coverall, his left slipping into the rings of the brass knuckles in his pocket.  Arl consciously maneuvered to allow Marcella to slip past these two while he distracted them.  " C'n you tell me how to get back to the loadin' area?  I have to kick someone's arse for this waste of time. "
Haval
Orla had been very carefully not saying anything in response to the idea that she was an off-worlder. There was no guarantee that the man had been anywhere near the Underhive so whose to say what she sounded like to him. She'll just grin at the man and say,  'I'm from all over, me.' 

To Hound,  'Socialise? Only if this one wants to get a drink with me when we both get a break. Depending on how hard his boss makes him work obviously.'  To the man,  'Name's Cordelia. Let me know if you ever want to compare war stories later.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Will head off to go pretend to smoke if he has nothing major to add
 
Bennosuke
The yet-unnamed body guard looks from Hound to Orla, then replies, " Well ya' sound like a local... " though is voice trails off as he stares at Orla with what might be growing suspicion. To Orla's introduction, the man will place a hand over his chest and reply flatly, " Kertz. "

He let's the two walk off, though you get the sense that Kertz watches the two acolytes as they move away from the doorway and down the hall.

**************************************************  ****

The skeletal man is the first to reply to Arl, his voice is thin and creaks like a willow in the wind. " We're headin' of the ship now, if you ya' wanna follow us. " He looks to the burlier one for agreement, but his companion simply shrugs. They still seem unaware of Marcella, and don't yet seem to suspicious of Arl.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Hidden in the shadows, Marcella was able to deduce what Arl was up to: he was buying her a distraction. Buying her time.

She waited a few moments until Arl and the two had turned away and moved some distance down the corridor, before she slowly proceeded on. She stuck to the shadows, moving between each, pausing, waiting, listening, then moving on again, as she made her way to the cockpit where she could access the flight logs, transponder codes and other important information.
Haval
As soon as they were out of earshot Orla will find something to lean on while she finishes the lho-stick. To Hound,  'I suppose that could have gone worse.' 
rax
 "Indeed. It appears you have a talent for social interaction that has been lacking on the team for some time. Your presence will no doubt improve our chances of success,"  Hound answers.

 "We might avail ourselves of Mr. Kertz' advice and seek out this saltwater pool he spoke of. Perhaps that will allay his last-minute suspicions somewhat?"  he suggests.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Indeed. It appears you have a talent for social interaction that has been lacking on the team for some time. Your presence will no doubt improve our chances of success,"  Hound answers.

 "We might avail ourselves of Mr. Kertz' advice and seek out this saltwater pool he spoke of. Perhaps that will allay his last-minute suspicions somewhat?"  he suggests. 
 

Orla considered that.  'Well no one pulled any guns. Short of having Marcella along as a failsafe, I'd say that's the best you can hope for.'  She'll take Hound's advice and go looking for this pool.  'I suppose they can't stay in that room forever.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The skeletal man is the first to reply to Arl, his voice is thin and creaks like a willow in the wind. " We're headin' of the ship now, if you ya' wanna follow us. " He looks to the burlier one for agreement, but his companion simply shrugs. They still seem unaware of Marcella, and don't yet seem to suspicious of Arl. 
 

Arl gives the men a smile of feigned relief and falls into line behind them, silently reciting a prayer to the God-Emperor that Marcella would be able to get the logs.
Bennosuke
Orl and Hound depart from the upstairs library, and begin moving down the hallway as directed. As they walk, a commotion can be heard far farther down the corridor. Even when they get to entrance for the saltwater pool, they can hear a man's voice belligerently hollering, " Do you know who I am? Hah, I eat swine like you for breakfast! " The pool room itself is magnificent, the floor completely covered with the finest pink sand, creating a small beach around the sparkling lap pool. Heat wafts from the room, piped in from large round lead pipes overhead. A group of strangely dressed partygoers are lounging by the pool. From their dress alone they look like off worlders, and the four don't seem to be enjoying themselves in the same way as the rest of the partygoers.

Again the man's voice from down the hall, " I've gutted men twice your size for such buffoonery! "

**************************************************

The two workers fall slightly silent as Arl falls in line with them, leaving Marcella alone. After about fifty paces, the thinner man speaks, " How long ya been on shift? This is our 16th hour. Almost time to clock out, " His fair voice is filled with exhaustion, his shoulders slumped to almost ovular as he and his companion trundle down the hall.

*************************************************

With Arl leading the two away, Marcella is clear to continue her passage deeper into the ship, unless there is something she would prefer to do first.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Her figure crouched low and blended in with her surroundings, Marcella made her way to the cockpit where she could access the transponder codes and flight logs. That was, unless, she knew somewhere else she could gain them aboard the ship.
Haval
Orla is surprised that there was an actual swimming pool in here. To Hound,  'I can't believe anyone just has a place like this in their house. What if all the water leaks?' 

On the shouts,  'Do we want to see what that's about? I take it he's not actually going to gut anyone in the middle of all this.' 
rax
 "Then the drudging classes will clean it up,"  Hound answers.

 "Yes, let us see what the commotion is about. Then we can return to see what our "fellow" off-worlders are so glum about,"  he says.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The two workers fall slightly silent as Arl falls in line with them, leaving Marcella alone. After about fifty paces, the thinner man speaks, " How long ya been on shift? This is our 16th hour. Almost time to clock out, " His fair voice is filled with exhaustion, his shoulders slumped to almost ovular as he and his companion trundle down the hall. 
 

Arl gave a non-committal grunt, then gave a rueful-seeming smirk.  " Been here a couple of hours, with the rest of a double shift to look forward to. "
Bennosuke
Marcella pads her way down the corridor, descending into the darkness of the ship. After several wrong turns she is able to find the control room or cockpit, that has the navigation cogitator. For once things go right for the psyker, who is able to quickly rifle through the travel logs shared by the skiff and the Rogue Trader's primary vessel docked in orbit above. It takes about fifteen minutes to print out records going back over the last three years, gathered on rolls of parchment.

*************************************************

Meanwhile, the two dock hands lead Arl back through the ship, and down the exit ramp into the bay. The conversation is rather stilted, and by the end of it, Arl can tell the two are looking at him queerly. But the dock hands are too exhausted and too simple minded to investigate, and with tired waves, leave at the base of the ship to go clock out. Outside the vessel, Arl is surrounded again by the clamorous noises of machines and motorized repair tools, and the calls of dock hands to each other as they continue to prepare the ship for takeoff.

*************************************************

Hound and Orla walk farther down the hall toward the sound of the surly man's voice. Another five doors down, they come to a half open door where inside a group of men and women appear to be playing cards. The source of the voice is a man standing with his back to the door, his red coat mantled with the fur of some strange xenos pelt. The man is well built and dark skinned, his long braided hair dyed richly with purples and reds. The man is still berating someone at the table, though whomever it is can't be seen behind his massive figure.

A terrified voice on the other side of the table is apologizing, saying they are sorry over and over, though the standing man is having nothing of it, accusing them of being a lying sniveling cheat.

Then the man in the red coat turns to face Orla and Hound at the door, his blue eyes filled with fury. " Is there something I can help you two with, " the man asks. His face is weathered, and a long dueling scar pulls down from his left cheek  to where his jaw meets his neck.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Then the man in the red coat turns to face Orla and Hound at the door, his blue eyes filled with fury. " Is there something I can help you two with, " the man asks. His face is weathered, and a long dueling scar pulls down from his left cheek  to where his jaw meets his neck. 
 

Orla will lean on the edge of the door frame.  'It's ok. I just wanted to see what all the shouting was about in case someone was getting violent. What did he do anyway?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Marcella pads her way down the corridor, descending into the darkness of the ship. After several wrong turns she is able to find the control room or cockpit, that has the navigation cogitator. For once things go right for the psyker, who is able to quickly rifle through the travel logs shared by the skiff and the Rogue Trader's primary vessel docked in orbit above. It takes about fifteen minutes to print out records going back over the last three years, gathered on rolls of parchment. 
 


The banks of computer screens drained the color from Marcella's face as she stood there in the dimly lit cockpit, smiling from ear to ear as the soft  thud-thud-click  of the printer worked its magic. Once all of the rolls had been produced, their faces covered with the beautiful writing that would tell them so much, the Psyker hurriedly stuffed them down the front of her coveralls before departing the cockpit.

Still blending into her surroundings, Marcella would smile and 'inhale' the scent and atmosphere of the ship for one last time until departing, quietly making her way outside and looking for Arl. Once she had found him, she approached, her image still reflecting that of whatever was behind her.

 "Psst - Arl!"  her voice excitedly giggled from the shadows.

 "I got a bunch of print outs; we should probably bail!" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 

The banks of computer screens drained the color from Marcella's face as she stood there in the dimly lit cockpit, smiling from ear to ear as the soft  thud-thud-click  of the printer worked its magic. Once all of the rolls had been produced, their faces covered with the beautiful writing that would tell them so much, the Psyker hurriedly stuffed them down the front of her coveralls before departing the cockpit.

Still blending into her surroundings, Marcella would smile and 'inhale' the scent and atmosphere of the ship for one last time until departing, quietly making her way outside and looking for Arl. Once she had found him, she approached, her image still reflecting that of whatever was behind her.

 "Psst - Arl!"  her voice excitedly giggled from the shadows.

 "I got a bunch of print outs; we should probably bail!"  
 

Arl reacted with a brief instant of startlement, then allowed himself to relax and smile.

 Mission accomplished, then. " he said in a low tone.  " Let us see about getting out of here.  It would be a shame to get caught at this late juncture. 

With that Arl lowered his head and unfocused his eyes and began to move towards the exit, going with the movement of the masses and allowing himself to flow with currents of the crowd.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


The Psyker smiled happily, Arl's words reassuring her that she had done a good job.

Quietly, she fell in behind the Assassin and followed him towards the exit.
Bennosuke
The man in the red coat glowers at Orla. " The fool tried to cheat me at cards, " he grunts, glancing behind him momentarily, one hand on his hip. He raises an eyebrow at Orla and says, " And who the hell are you? You speak like a slum rat from the underhive of this Throne forsaken city. " The man's gaze drifts from Orla, to Hound, then back again.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man in the red coat glowers at Orla. " The fool tried to cheat me at cards, " he grunts, glancing behind him momentarily, one hand on his hip. He raises an eyebrow at Orla and says, " And who the hell are you? You speak like a slum rat from the underhive of this Throne forsaken city. " The man's gaze drifts from Orla, to Hound, then back again. 
 

 'Well frankly milord, anyone who cheats at cards should expect that someone's going to try and stab them. You'll get no argument from me.'  Orla smiles. She does not care about the allegeded cheater.  'As long as you're ok with how the security people are going to take it.' 

On the second point,  'The people I work for hire from a lot of places. Is that a problem?'  Did she need to ask Marcella to teach her how to lose the accent?
rax
 "I am Adept Third Class Toomes, personal secretary to His Excellency, Master Philius Jarkov of Carcus. The Master has recently arrived from off-world and felt it would be useful to hire local talent. This one came highly recommended as a security specialist. Whatever her failings in matters of language and etiquette, she has so far not disappointed in her assigned role,"  Hound intervenes to explain Orla's presence.
Bennosuke
The man shrugs at Orla's first reply, even chuckling at her suggestion about a stabbing. He replies, " Unfortunately, such an action would probably be frowned on by our host, " his voice filled with humor. He even pauses for a moment to lay a playful glare at the man behind him.

He raises his eyebrow with curiosity when she speaks about the people she works for, and this only seems to intensify when Hounds peaks up. " I see, " he says, studying Hound's face, the man's head tilting slightly to the side. After a moment's pause he adds slowly, " Lovely place; Carcus. Can't say I've heard of the Jarkov's... though I suppose it's a big enough place. " After this he shrugs, and half to the group behind him, and half to the two interluders, the man in the big red coat says, " Very well then. Shall we return to our game... assuming everyone is going to play by the rules from now on? "

(OOC: Not kicking your characters out but encouraging you to dig deeper if you want to keep up the conversation)
Haval
Orla only grins at Hound's assessment of her etiquette.


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man shrugs at Orla's first reply, even chuckling at her suggestion about a stabbing. He replies, " Unfortunately, such an action would probably be frowned on by our host, " his voice filled with humor. He even pauses for a moment to lay a playful glare at the man behind him. 
 

 'Oh, so you know the General do you? Lord...?'  Orla leaves an opening for the man to introduce himself, or possibly correct her.  'I like his house.' 
Bennosuke
Orla's question about the man's acquaintance with the General causes the man to grin again, showing that several of his teeth are capped with gold. Mirthfully, he replies, " Casmirre, " before turning his back to face the group of card players and sitting himself back down in his large, lovingly carved wooden chair. Ignoring Orla, Rogue Trader Perrus Casmirre begins reaching across the table and bellows, " Give me yer cards. I'm dealing, since the lot of yeh can't be trusted! "

The faces of the group of men at the table are filled with fear, visible even in those who are trying not to show it.
rax
Hound glances over quickly at Orla when Casmirre has turned away and returned to the table.  "This should be interesting news to relay to 'Master Jarkov'. If he can get in with Casmirre here, that could open up a path to Lord Durchesse,"  he whispers.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
 Hound glances over quickly at Orla when Casmirre has turned away and returned to the table.  "This should be interesting news to relay to 'Master Jarkov'. If he can get in with Casmirre here, that could open up a path to Lord Durchesse,"  he whispers. 
 

 'You think Jarkov is any good at cards?'  Orla whispers back.  'I know I'm not.' 
rax
 "Let's step outside and ask him,"  Hound suggests.

Making his way back into the corridor, he calls Ezekiel on his micro-bead.  "Sir - we have located Lord Durchesse and Rogue Trader Casmirre one floor up. Lord Durchesse does not seem approachable at this time, but Casmirre is in the midst of a card game and more open to small talk. Perhaps you could invite yourself to join the game as a means of making contact?"  he speaks quietly into the bead.
Bennosuke
Hound waits for a moment as all he hears is static coming from the micro-bead, and then the Interrogator's voice comes in. " Yes, yes! That sounds lovely, " he says, his voice slightly far-off sounding in the comm, " Would you give me just one second? " There is static for a another second, and then Ezekiel's voice comes in more clearly, though his tone bellies annoyance, " Why don't you come down here and talk to me? " Then he cuts the line.

Assuming Hound and Orla obey, they come back downstairs and wander through the area for another almost ten minutes till they find Interrogator Ezekiel standing and talking with a pair of women. From appearances, one is an older woman, dressed in white and red laces, her wiry white hair tight tight in an ornate bun. She stands talking to Ezekiel with regal poise, one hand holding a goblet of amsec, the other resting on a gilded ivory cane. Her companion is a younger woman, equally well dressed, but youthful and full bodied. She keeps a hand lovingly at the back of her older companion, and sips at a glass of straw colored wine from a fluted glass. The two chuckle at some joke of the Interrogators, and it is hard to tell who is falling for his charms more strongly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ezekiel catches the approaching acolytes. Refusing to acknowledge them, he leans close to the older woman and places a gloved hand on the one of hers resting on the cane. " Give me just one moment dear, " he says, as if she was a favored aunt, before giving her a polite bow of the head, turning and intercepting the acolytes before they can come to close to his party. " What is it, " he asks loudly with annoyance, so that the women can hear, though with his back turned to them, they can't see the look of sincere concern in the Interrogator's eyes.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Let's step outside and ask him,"  Hound suggests. 
 

 'Or I suppose we could ask Milo. Hasn't he got money to lose?'  If Casmirre wasn't actually going to kill amyone Orla will follow Hound downstairs. She'll nod to Kertz the guard on the way past.

Orla will try not to look too amused at the Interrogator's situation as she leans forward and speak quietly in his ear,  'You want to meet Casmirre boss? I'd offer to join his game but it would get me into trouble fast.' 
Bennosuke
 Orla will try not to look too amused at the Interrogator's situation as she leans forward and speak quietly in his ear, 'You want to meet Casmirre boss? I'd offer to join his game but it would get me into trouble fast.' 

The Interrogator opens his mouth to speak, eyes wide with surprise, and then he shuts his jaw with an audible click of his teeth. Under his breath Ezekiel asks, " The Rogue Trader is here? Where? " his eyes darting about the room in suspicion. Through gritted teeth, he adds, " Unbelievable that Drimmle would have him invited. What is he doing? "

Before either Orla or Hound can reply, The Interrogator's eyes glance over at his two female companions, making sure they were not attempting to listen in or picking up on the tension that had suddenly settled over his group.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Interrogator opens his mouth to speak, eyes wide with surprise, and then he shuts his jaw with an audible click of his teeth. Under his breath Ezekiel asks, " The Rogue Trader is here? Where? " his eyes darting about the room in suspicion. Through gritted teeth, he adds, " Unbelievable that Drimmle would have him invited. What is he doing? "

Before either Orla or Hound can reply, The Interrogator's eyes glance over at his two female companions, making sure they were not attempting to listen in or picking up on the tension that had suddenly settled over his group. 
 

Assuming the Interrogator wasn't interrupted Orla will add,  'At the moment, gambling upstairs.'  On the matter of why he was invited,  'Maybe he knows the General.'  It seemed likely to her that most rich people probably knew each other.
Bennosuke
" Of course, " Ezekiel says under his breath when he finds out The Rogue Trader is upstairs gambling. The man's expression softens though and a wry smirk spreads across his face. He pats both HOund and Orla on the shoulder and says, " Good work. " He eyes the two women again before saying with hushed voice, " I'm hesitant to make contact, though I don't know how easy it will be to spy on him. Any chance either of you are good at cards? "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Is there an in universe card game people play? I think Regicide is their chess...
 
Haval
Orla glances towards Hound before turning back,  'I know how to lose. Doesn't seem that useful. And he already threatened one of the other players for cheating.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

I feel like I saw what was basically poker somewhere. Other then that I don't know anything official.

Orla isn't rich enough to be good at gambling so she doesn't have the skill. So I suppose it depends what else she might be able to roll for it.

Unless we ask Milo
 
rax
 "Sir, as you well know, I am a scribe, not a gentleman of leisure - I have no facility with games of chance. However, as you are here to make useful connections, then perhaps this is simply a situation where sacrifices now will lead to the opportunities you seek later,"  Hound suggests.

 OOC:  Haval has brought up the idea of using Milo to gamble, and if Ezekiel doesn't want to take the plunge, perhaps that's the best idea, but I have no clue as to whether or not Milo has Gamble as a trained skill.
Bennosuke
The Interrogator frowns, his lips drawing tight on his well structured face. " The Rogue Trader has likely been to Carcus, " he says almost with a sigh under his breath, " I've done as best I can to research my cover, but it would be risky meeting him face to face. He may be able to find cracks in my identity. " He shrugs and adds, " Besides, gambling well isn't really the point. Just to get as much info from being around him as possible. If gambling is off the table, maybe just being around him and watching. "

 
 Spoiler: OOC: On Milo 
Honestly my goal, preference is that the PCs are doing most of the interesting things, as I feel having the Interrogator be the focal point will be less fun. That is kind of my concern with using Father Milo as well. Having checked his character sheet, he does not have gamble, but of course has a bunch of other social skills.

I'd be okay with Milo getting involved, but would suggest having one of the players RP as him instead, for the same reason I am hesitant to have the Interrogator "steal the scene". Let me know your thoughts.
 
Haval
Orla briefly looks to Hound,  'I could hang around outside and see how loudly they're talking. Maybe find out who the rest of them are.'  How much interference with their game would they accept from someone who wasn't actually joining in?  'Or I get closer and see how they take it. Maybe see if Casmirre is hiring? What's the worst that can happen?' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Don't really have the bandwidth to rp someone else. I suppose if losing money at gambling is a problem I can rely on Milo for a loan. Getting in on the gambling would be a better justification for Orla being in the room.

Holding to see if Rax has a better idea
 
Bennosuke
Seeing that Orla was not speaking directly to him, Ezekiel will simply offer to the two, " That would not be an unreasonable plan. I would offer that in general caution might be the best approach. "
Bennosuke
Upon returning with the navigation files retrieved from the Rogue Trader's lighter, Arl and Marcella agree to do some further investigation into Officer Kant. After reviewing his files provided by the Interrogator, they decide to tail him, and if possible confront him in a semi-public space.

The station that Kant works at is a distance away, in one of the less desirable sections of the midhive. The building is brutalist in design, a grey two story rectangle with barred windows, and barb tipped electrified fencing. The streets in this neighborhood are dotted with litter, sidewalks cracked and streets pocked with potholes. Though not nearly as desperate or toxic as the underhive, this is even a far cry from the neighborhood of the cell's prior base of operations in the midhive.

Kant is out of the office in the evening on the dot of his end-of-shift. He's a heavy set man, years of abuse and neglect at a desk weighing on a previously athletic frame. He leaves the station with heavy steps, shoulders slouched, his heavily bagged eyes glazed and seeing little. He does not notice Marcella and Arl as he walks to the lot and gets into his beat up and outdated four seat automobile. The car starts with a groan, and trundles its way through the neighborhood. Kant eventually guides it to an even darker and dirtier part of town, where most of the street lights seem to be failing, and with minimal pedestrian foot traffic. He parks it in the alley next to a dingy looking tavern ironically named "The Sister's Blessing", before wandering inside.

From outside the small pub, there is the low throng of some outdated genre of local instrumental music. The windows of the establishment are all tinted, so that you can't see inside. But the door is not attended by bouncer. It's big enough that Kant could likely be tucked away in some corner, unless a large amount of the space is taken up by something like a stage. A quick check of the perimeter shows that there is a back door as well to the tavern. Steam and the smell of humble cooking wafts from the cracked back door.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Upon returning to their hab, Marcella hummed happily to herself as she deposited the treasured star charts in a safe lockbox to ensure their protection and retention. Though seemingly 'easy' to acquire, the risk had been extraordinary, and it was frankly a miracle that they had managed to evade notice and scrutiny, lest they be forced to shoot their way out. Though as exciting a prospect as that was, Marcella much preferred to deliver to Ezekiel the good news that they'd gotten in and out without a trace, especially after that Astarte's sized cockup back at Drimmle's mansion.

However, the Pskyer would be lying if she said a part of her wished she had kept her mouth shut and got to go to the fancy ball. Oh how her heart bled a little, thinking of the champagne, the music, the dress she could wear, the unmarried noble sons to flirt with....oh and of course the mission at hand, of course. But ultimately, who was she kidding? She was a Sanctioned Psyker. She was just one bad day away from getting possessed by interdimensional demons and serving as a conduit into the materium for the hellish minions of the Warp to enter and slaughter. What man would want to put a ring on that? Best content herself with this life, she told herself. At least if she performed well in the Inquisition she could rise the ranks and carve some type of ambition out for herself while doing her part to safeguard mankind against the horrors of the galaxy, before going on to join the Emperor in eternal rest following the final curtain call.

Nevertheless, the day was not yet over. Seeing that the others had not arrived back yet, Marcella agreed to assist Arl with pursuing the next lead. Not believing she'd need to be particularly well-armed, the Psyker deposited her firearms into her room and kept only her Orthlack-10 Armsman on her and a suppressor separately on the inside of her flak cloak pocket. She could attach the two if need be.

When they tracked down Officer Kent, Marcella followed Arl's lead, trusting the assassins investigatory instincts over any that she possessed, until finally the pair were in front of a seedy looking bar after having watched the heavyset corrupt official shoulder his way inside.

Looking over at Arl, noticing the back entrance and the front, the shorter girl asked softly in the grimy streets of the seedy part of town,  "we going in the front, or the back?" 

Of all the group, it was curious to the Psyker that it was Arl with whom she was on this task. When they had first been gathered to pursue this investigation in the first place, there had been a Battle Sister initiate, a Tech-priest, another guardsman sort, Arl and herself. Now they were all gone, with only the assassin and her remaining out of the initial five.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Upon returning with the navigation files retrieved from the Rogue Trader's lighter, Arl and Marcella agree to do some further investigation into Officer Kant. After reviewing his files provided by the Interrogator, they decide to tail him, and if possible confront him in a semi-public space.

The station that Kant works at is a distance away, in one of the less desirable sections of the midhive. The building is brutalist in design, a grey two story rectangle with barred windows, and barb tipped electrified fencing. The streets in this neighborhood are dotted with litter, sidewalks cracked and streets pocked with potholes. Though not nearly as desperate or toxic as the underhive, this is even a far cry from the neighborhood of the cell's prior base of operations in the midhive.

Kant is out of the office in the evening on the dot of his end-of-shift. He's a heavy set man, years of abuse and neglect at a desk weighing on a previously athletic frame. He leaves the station with heavy steps, shoulders slouched, his heavily bagged eyes glazed and seeing little. He does not notice Marcella and Arl as he walks to the lot and gets into his beat up and outdated four seat automobile. The car starts with a groan, and trundles its way through the neighborhood. Kant eventually guides it to an even darker and dirtier part of town, where most of the street lights seem to be failing, and with minimal pedestrian foot traffic. He parks it in the alley next to a dingy looking tavern ironically named "The Sister's Blessing", before wandering inside.

From outside the small pub, there is the low throng of some outdated genre of local instrumental music. The windows of the establishment are all tinted, so that you can't see inside. But the door is not attended by bouncer. It's big enough that Kant could likely be tucked away in some corner, unless a large amount of the space is taken up by something like a stage. A quick check of the perimeter shows that there is a back door as well to the tavern. Steam and the smell of humble cooking wafts from the cracked back door. 
 

Arl looked over the front of the pub, debating with himself on how to approach this mission.  In a perfect universe, they could simply walk in, spot Kant and have a brief conversation, setting the hook to make him sweat.

Weighing his options, he turned to Marcella.

"I would prefer to do this quietly... but I am not sure I want to trust matters to go smoothly."

 
 Spoiler: Underworld check 
 (1d100)[ 76 ]  vs a 52 (Common Lore (Underworld))
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella thought for a second before answering.

 "What if we get him to come out the back with us? Tell him we want to talk, if he doesn't accompany him out back then we'll tell his wife, and give her name and his address to show we're serious?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Seeing that Orla was not speaking directly to him, Ezekiel will simply offer to the two, " That would not be an unreasonable plan. I would offer that in general caution might be the best approach. " 
 

Orla will mutter something about hazard pay and look to Hound.  'Unless you have a better idea. Maybe you can let me know somehow if they have a better hand.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 

Marcella thought for a second before answering.

 "What if we get him to come out the back with us? Tell him we want to talk, if he doesn't accompany him out back then we'll tell his wife, and give her name and his address to show we're serious?"  
 

" Reasonable notion.  Perhaps we don't even have to go outside -- perhaps he has a quiet corner where we could discuss matters. "

Arl straightened his clothes a touch, trying to look professional, and palmed his Credit Guild id with his left hand, leaving his right free to grab a weapon if things went sour.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella nodded, trusting the assassins instincts on the matter.

 "Hope for the best, prep for the worst,"  she smiled, nodding towards the pub,  "I'll follow you." 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla briefly looks to Hound,  'I could hang around outside and see how loudly they're talking. Maybe find out who the rest of them are.'  How much interference with their game would they accept from someone who wasn't actually joining in?  'Or I get closer and see how they take it. Maybe see if Casmirre is hiring? What's the worst that can happen?'  
 

  "I imagine that the worst that could happen is that Casmirre becomes suspicious and has us arrested or thrown out, though if he feels sufficiently insulted, it's not inconceivable that he would have us killed and then duel Master Jarkov to the death for having the temerity to let his servants disturb his game,"  Hound observes drily.  "But let us hope he's in a forgiving mood." 
 "In any case, if we are to return to Casmirre, we will need a plausible story as to why Master Jarkov has allowed his servants to continue roaming about aimlessly."  
Bennosuke
Ezekiel raises an eyebrow at Hound's comment. With a smirk he replies, " Maybe he hasn't. Maybe  Master Jarkov  is too busy enjoying the party, and you two have snuck off like rascals. " Then the man's brow furrows and his expression hardens. " Those to women over there, " he says in a hush, not even looking their way or gesturing, though obviously referring to the two he had been with before, " the matron is apparently a dear friend of Lord Durchesse. Says she attends his parties regularly. " The smirk then returns and he adds, " I am more than happy to keep busy with them. "
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 


Marcella nodded, trusting the assassins instincts on the matter.

 "Hope for the best, prep for the worst,"  she smiled, nodding towards the pub,  "I'll follow you."  
 

Arl put the most serious look he could muster on his face and strode purposefully through the front door of the pub, looking for Officer Kant.

 
 Spoiler: Die Roll 
 (1d100)[ 9 ]  vs 50 (PER 40, Awareness +10)
 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "I imagine that the worst that could happen is that Casmirre becomes suspicious and has us arrested or thrown out, though if he feels sufficiently insulted, it's not inconceivable that he would have us killed and then duel Master Jarkov to the death for having the temerity to let his servants disturb his game,"  Hound observes drily.  "But let us hope he's in a forgiving mood." 
 "In any case, if we are to return to Casmirre, we will need a plausible story as to why Master Jarkov has allowed his servants to continue roaming about aimlessly."   
 

 'In that case, what would be the chance they'd give me a weapon and make it a fair fight? Oh, and my ID says I'm an independent contractor if you think that helps.' 
Bennosuke
Arl and Marcella come back around the Sister's Blessing and push through the front door. Passing over the threshold, the two are met with warm stale air and the nostril burning stench of a dirty fire. Appreciating the full volume of the folk music, playing from a pair of massive archaic looking speaker, it's loud enough to cover most quiet conversation, though likely not so loud that one would need to yell to an adjacent companion.

The space is large, though it's exact proportions are obscured by the dim lighting. The pub is a sprawl of small plastic tables, each crowned with a small single candle. Tiny dots of red flame struggle to stay alight in the darkness, shedding just enough light to show silhouettes of empty chairs or of patrons occupying the space. In the near corner is a semi-circle shaped bar, where a one eyed man is busy cleaning chipped glass mugs.

Many of the person-shaped shadows lazily shift as Marcella and Arl enter, and the two can feel the eyes of the bar fall in on them. The latter in the lead, Arl can feel the tension in the room. They were being studied just a little too long, and the patrons clearly recognized them as foreigners. No one was getting up to stop them or question them, but it was clear the two were drawing unwanted attention.

Despite the darkness, Arl could see in the far corner of the room, the stout silhouette of Officer Kant slowly letting himself into a seat at a corner table. But before he could move in that direction, or motion to Marcella, the raspy voice of the bartender calls over the din of the music, " It's a throne for a pint. Can't stay without buyin' a drink. " He puts the drink he was cleaning down, one hand slowly reaching for something under the bar.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel raises an eyebrow at Hound's comment. With a smirk he replies, " Maybe he hasn't. Maybe  Master Jarkov  is too busy enjoying the party, and you two have snuck off like rascals. " 
 

  "I believe I am ill-suited to playing the rascal. That would, perhaps, be more believable coming from your  independent contractor, "  Hound replies stiffly with a sideways glance at Orla.  "Do you wish to find out Casmirre's opinion of  rascals ?"  he asks her.
Haval
Orla is optimistic enough to be willing to give it a go.  'Hey, look on the bright side. If he doesn't take to me he's not going to be mad at you.' 

If Ezekial doesn't have anything else to add she'll return upstairs, taking the opportunity to glance at the room where Durchesse was enroute.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


One would think that Marcella was used to the dingy, arse-end of watering holes by now, given the past few months in her new job as Inquisitorial acolyte. She had ventured through the Underhive several times, traversed its vile sewers and back alleys, navigated through its abandoned and broken pipe system and mentally travelled through the minds of the disturbed, greedy and insane. Yet she still could not for the life of her, keep a straight face when moving into a dingy, stinking pub like this one.

The first thing the psychic felt was her nostrils scrunching up like a rabbit at the acrid, ozone-like stench that permeated the air, the rancid scent mixing with that of tinges of vomit, sticky floors, abrasive dodgy plonk alcohol and overpowering body odour to create banks of odiferous melange that contorted Marcella's face into a mask of disgust, if only for a few seconds until acclimatization.

  "Ugh...gross..."   she blurted next to Arl, her clean skin, well-groomed blonde hair and younger features contrasting with the smoky, overbearingly masculine atmosphere that surrounded her. Marcella's powerful willpower kept her face relatively neutral, while her insides recoiled in horror as she took a sweeping glance over the assortment of reprobates, village drunks and no-hopers that occupied this lurid den.

  Orla would fit right in here!   the Psyker thought bitterly to herself.   Instead she's off at a fancy ball, while I have to sift my way through the smoke and booze of this disgusting pigsty!  

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " It's a throne for a pint. Can't stay without buyin' a drink. " 
 

Marcella paused in her movement, her head turning to look at the bartender who had shot the demand in their direction.

  They expect us to  pay  to stay in this filthy hole?!   the psyker thought incredulously.

And a pint of what? Marcella was an intelligent girl who had  seen things  in her young life, but even she lacked the imagination to conjure up whatever would pass for something drinkable within this pit, let alone a pint of the stuff.

 "Um, sure..."  she said, looking up at Arl, then back at the barkeep, approaching him. She reached into her pockets and withdrew two thrones, placing them on the counter.

 "May I please have an apple cider, and..."  Marcella asked, before looking back up at Arl, granting him the opening to order what he wanted.
rax
 "I suggest we engage in some roleplay to set Casmirre's mind at ease. If you successfully join the game, signal me via the bead and I shall join you shortly, professing anger and worry that Master Ezekiel will discover that you are gambling with his money, which would get us both in trouble. I believe I shall be more convincing as a worried bureaucrat than a...rogue,"  Hound answers Orla.
Wyndeward
Arl scanned the room quickly, looking for an open table near Officer Kant's booth.

" We'll be at the table over yonder, barkeep. "

Arl seemed more at ease once they were in the bar.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Any sign of muscle and is Officer Kant alone?
 
Haval
Before Orla leaves,  'Well then. Just keep listening to the bead.' 
Bennosuke
Orla marches back up the stairs, passing the library and the pool and heading for the room where The Rogue Trader and others were playing cards. This time she can't hear Casmirre's barking coming down the hall as she approaches, and when she enters the room, she finds the men deeply absorbed in their hands, doing little more than muttering to themselves or each other. Barely anyone even notices her as she walks back into the room.

**************************************************


 Marcella paused in her movement, her head turning to look at the bartender who had shot the demand in their direction.

They expect us to pay to stay in this filthy hole?! the psyker thought incredulously.

And a pint of what? Marcella was an intelligent girl who had seen things in her young life, but even she lacked the imagination to conjure up whatever would pass for something drinkable within this pit, let alone a pint of the stuff.

"Um, sure..." she said, looking up at Arl, then back at the barkeep, approaching him. She reached into her pockets and withdrew two thrones, placing them on the counter.

"May I please have an apple cider, and..." Marcella asked, before looking back up at Arl, granting him the opening to order what he wanted. 

(OOC: Since Arl didn't actually reply...) " All we got's is wheat ale, " the bartender growls, thunking the mug he was cleaning down on the bar. But before Marcella can reply, he reaches an arm out with surprising celerity, and grabs the two thrones, pulling them to him. He grabs a second mug and thumps this down on the table. With practiced motion, the bartender grabs a metal ribbed hose, turns some nozzle under the bar and sprays frothy beer into the two mugs. The smell of the liquid is reminiscent of soggy sour bread. He pushes the two mugs across the bar to Marcell and Arl, and replying to the latter says, " No table service. "

Arl studies the room, and if he is right about Kant's table, the man is all alone. No muscle or associates nearby, though of course that didn't mean the room didn't likely have a few trouble makers in it.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella scrunched up her nose at the sight of the grimy pints of amber liquid before her, each little tankard topped doff with a frothy head that ran down the side of the steins.

 "Yes, thank you..."  she nodded once to the barkeep, her discomfort visible on her face for several moments before she picked up both glasses and turned about to follow Arl, ready to place them down where-ever he chose to sit.
Haval
Orla will take a moment to look at the other players to see if there was anything notable about them. Perhaps it would be useful to be able to identify these people later. As soon as she wasn't obviously interrupting,  'You boys have room for one more. I've recently come into some money.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 


Marcella scrunched up her nose at the sight of the grimy pints of amber liquid before her, each little tankard topped doff with a frothy head that ran down the side of the steins.

 "Yes, thank you..."  she nodded once to the barkeep, her discomfort visible on her face for several moments before she picked up both glasses and turned about to follow Arl, ready to place them down where-ever he chose to sit. 
 

Arl slid into Officer Kant's booth without so much as a "bye your leave," placing his Credit Guild credentials on the table in front of him facing Kant.  He spoke in Low Gothic, but annunciated clearly and in a low tone.

" Good evening, Officer Karl.  My name is Arl Weisskopf, but you can call me "Auditor Weisskopf" 

" Several... "irregularities" have been noted in certain accounts and your name has come up tangentially to this case.  If you would permit me, I would like to discuss the matter with you, ideally with your cooperation, so as to eliminate you as a consideration in our investigation -- it is strictly routine in these matters. "
Bennosuke
As the two approach Kant's booth, they can see that he is alone, slumped over a near empty mug. He registers them before Arl starts talking, and he shifts as a hand moves slowly under the table. His eyes are rheumy and red rimmed, but they narrow with suspicion as Arl starts to speak. " Can I see some ID... who did you say you were again? " Kant grumbles, eyes moving slowly from Arl to Marcella.

(OOC: Arl does have his credit ID badge, which can help him, so let's have a Deceive roll at +40)

**************************************************  *

All eyes fall on Orla as she speaks up and approaches the table. Moving closer now, she is able to see the group of gathered individuals; all men. The gamblers are a hodge podge of well dressed and well groomed nobles, and a few scruffier and wilder individuals. Some of the latter appear to be hired help, others likely body guards. They eye Orla suspiciously, but before any can speak up, the Rogue Trader rises with a groan to turn on Orla. " Ho ho ho, " his laugh is a deep bellow. He tilts his head to the side and asks, " How much money exactly were you able to... come into? "
Wyndeward
[QUOTE=Bennosuke;26028357]As the two approach Kant's booth, they can see that he is alone, slumped over a near empty mug. He registers them before Arl starts talking, and he shifts as a hand moves slowly under the table. His eyes are rheumy and red rimmed, but they narrow with suspicion as Arl starts to speak. " Can I see some ID... who did you say you were again? " Kant grumbles, eyes moving slowly from Arl to Marcella.

(OOC: Arl does have his credit ID badge, which can help him, so let's have a Deceive roll at +40)

" As I said, I am Auditor Weisskopf.  However, as this is an informal discussion, you may call me Arl, at least until it becomes an official discussion ."

 
 Spoiler: Roll 
[/roll]1d100[/roll] vs 53 (half Fel +40)
 
Wyndeward
[QUOTE=Wyndeward;26028362]
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 As the two approach Kant's booth, they can see that he is alone, slumped over a near empty mug. He registers them before Arl starts talking, and he shifts as a hand moves slowly under the table. His eyes are rheumy and red rimmed, but they narrow with suspicion as Arl starts to speak. " Can I see some ID... who did you say you were again? " Kant grumbles, eyes moving slowly from Arl to Marcella.

(OOC: Arl does have his credit ID badge, which can help him, so let's have a Deceive roll at +40)

" As I said, I am Auditor Weisskopf.  However, as this is an informal discussion, you may call me Arl, at least until it becomes an official discussion ."

 
 Spoiler: Roll 
[/roll]1d100[/roll] vs 53 (half Fel +40)
 
 
 

 
 Spoiler: This time for sure... 
 (1d100)[ 64 ]  vs 53
 
Wyndeward
[QUOTE=Wyndeward;26028363]
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
  
 Spoiler: This time for sure... 
 (1d100)[ 47 ]  vs 53
 
 
 

I will spend a Fate point to re-roll

 (1d100)[ 47 ]  vs 53
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 As the two approach Kant's booth, they can see that he is alone, slumped over a near empty mug. He registers them before Arl starts talking, and he shifts as a hand moves slowly under the table. His eyes are rheumy and red rimmed, but they narrow with suspicion as Arl starts to speak. " Can I see some ID... who did you say you were again? " Kant grumbles, eyes moving slowly from Arl to Marcella.

(OOC: Arl does have his credit ID badge, which can help him, so let's have a Deceive roll at +40)  
 


Marcella remained quiet as Arl did the speaking, taking a sip of her drink and holding back the distasteful expression it would have otherwise provoked.
Haval
Orla will pull up a chair. To the Rogue Trader with a grin,  'I'm not hearing a no? But surely a man such as yourself plays for the fun of it? I thought all you Rogue Traders were loaded.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Let me know if there's a specific number of thrones Ezekial is willing to back Orla for.

Otherwise I'll have to try and talk around it.
 
Bennosuke
Officer Kant takes one long look at Arl, before lifting his mug and draining the dregs. Thumping it down on the table he replies flatly, " Well! Then what is this  routine  matter? " The suspicion is gone, but his expression is still hard and blunted. " And who is your companion, " he asks, waving towards Marcella.

(OOC: Arl is down to 0/1 FP)

**************************************************  ************

Orla's response causes the man to chuckle further, " Ho ho ho! " He grins, showing several gold capped teeth. " Of course I have my wealth, " he replies grinning, " but gambling is always more fun if the stakes are rea! " He winks to another man at the table, who does his best pretend he had not seen the gesture. Casmirre rubs his wild face hairs then adds, " It's a hundred thrones a hand, if you can put up that much little one. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant takes one long look at Arl, before lifting his mug and draining the dregs. Thumping it down on the table he replies flatly, " Well! Then what is this  routine  matter? " The suspicion is gone, but his expression is still hard and blunted. " And who is your companion, " he asks, waving towards Marcella. 
 


Marcella decided she didn't want to drink any more of the vile concoction in her glass. She'd have to mix some vodka and pineapple juice when she got home.

When Kent gestured her way, she reached into her coat and produced her own ID, holding it up for long enough to display her picture next to the official script.

 "Sub-Auditor Sinclaire,"  she stated simply, returning the card to within her jacket.
Bennosuke
The man nods his head at Marcella's ID, still grimacing. " I see, " Kant says through gritted teeth and asks, " And when are you two going to tell me what this is all about then? "

(OOC: Marcella is down to 0 FP as well)
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Orla's response causes the man to chuckle further, " Ho ho ho! " He grins, showing several gold capped teeth. " Of course I have my wealth, " he replies grinning, " but gambling is always more fun if the stakes are rea! " He winks to another man at the table, who does his best pretend he had not seen the gesture. Casmirre rubs his wild face hairs then adds, " It's a hundred thrones a hand, if you can put up that much little one. " 
 

Orla shrugs,  'I think I can manage that. They do pay me ocasionally you know, even if I'm not on your level.'  She'll look around the table, including towards the man who had earlier been accused of cheating.  'I take it that's true of the rest of you as well? I'm sure they don't let just anyone in here.' 
Bennosuke
Orla is met with scowls and suspicion from the surrounding card players. But the Rogue Trade simply chuckles again and replies, " Well then, have a seat and we will see if we can't relieve you of some of your earnings. " He points to an empty wooden chair on the other side of the table. The chair sits between a bald skull faced man dressed in black velvet and wearing a humorless scowl who studies Orla like she were a bug, and squat heavily jowled man dressed in furs and a ornate powdered blue wig. The shorter man scoots his chair to the side so that Orla can get in if she likes, while the skeleton man refuses to move, though Orla can hear the rough scratching noise of him grinding his teeth under clenched jaw.

Unfortunately, Orla cannot tell who Casmirre had been howling at before. When they had peered into the room, the massive Rogue Trader's frame had simply eclipsed the other players at the table. Though perhaps it had been the bald man in black velvet who seemed so unhappy. His pile of chips, a single stack of ornate gold coins decorated by a central mother of pearl jewel, was sizably less than those around him.

(OOC: Let's say Ezekiel has given Orla funds enough for four hands of play)

Assuming Orla takes her seat, the man in the wig will eye her up and down once before saying, " We pay up front for our chips. " His voice is high and boyish, containing an almost effete sing-song quality.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man nods his head at Marcella's ID, still grimacing. " I see, " Kant says through gritted teeth and asks, " And when are you two going to tell me what this is all about then? "

(OOC: Marcella is down to 0 FP as well) 
 

Arl smiled and nodded at this exchange and then began "lay out his case."

" There has been an unusual pattern of transactions involving several Upper Hive individuals and the Underhive who have an unusually large amount of Thrones.  In the course of our examination of accounts, there have been... suggestions of a flow of goods between the two levels of the Spire -- insufficient to take to the Guild's "collections department," but enough to drag me and my assistant into the whole sordid mess to see what is actually going on.  Now, while we have an excellent grasp of the accounts involved, our knowledge of the Underhive and its players is somewhat lacking.  You have come to our attention as a knowledgeable Enforcer who might be able to assist us in our audit as a consultant -- someone who knows whom to ask and how to ask them to get the information we need to address these irregularities.  The Guild dislikes unpleasantness, but this matter needs to be addressed and, should there be a flow of contraband... well, as I say, the Guild dislike unpleasantness, but sometimes you need to make an example ."

Arl paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment, then pressed on.

" Likewise, just as the Guild needs to address those who would abuse our trust harshly, we are also most willing to give credit where credit is due. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

"Sub-auditor Sinclaire" waited in silence next to her partner, her eyes gently looking at Kent with a neutral expression. Internally, Marcella had to powerfully resist the urge to just reach her mind out to touch his, to have just a teeny tiny little peak into that sordid little bauble he called a mind.

But not yet. She had to be patient.
Haval
Orla will smile at the bald man to give the impression that she knew exactly what he was thinking and didn't give a ****. As she takes her seat she'll take a moment to regard the shorter man in turn. On paying up front,  'No problem here.' 

Looking at the pile of chips,  'So how long have you boys been at this? You going to give everyone a chance to recover their money?' 
Bennosuke
Officer Kant remains silent while Arl speaks, his expression a forced mask of indifference. He keeps eye contact with Arl, his only movement the tightening of jaw muscles under his flabby jowls. " I see, " he replies flatly after a moment's pause. With the same guarded expression he adds after another pause, " It sounds like something best brought to the Investigation Divisio of the Enforcers. I'm just a beat officer. What makes you think I would be able to help. " His eyes dart just for a moment down to his hands, resting stiffly on the table, then up to Marcella, and back to Arl.

**************************************************  *******

A man several seats away collects Orla's money and divvies out a pile of the same gold coins. Despite giving up more thrones than she'd likely ever held in her life, Orla's pile is meager relative to many at the table, only slightly larger than the skeleton man's.

In response to Orla's question, the skeleton man next to her bristles, " This is to the death! " He grimaces, showing a mouth of perfect pearly teeth.

The short man in the wig on the other side of Orla sighs. " He means that we must play till we are all out of chips and one man has all the money, " he titters, casting a smug grin at the skeleton man.

" We have not been at it long, " the man says who dealt Orla her gold chips. He is a younger noble man, with perfectly groomed features and a long shock of pale blonde hair.

(OOC: Let's get your first gamble roll here. So that I don't have to make it a contested roll against everyone at the table, please make it at -20)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella listened in silence next to Arl, as she wanted to follow his lead. She could see that he had painted a general picture of a suspicious situation to the Officer, likely in the hope of stirring some sense of accountability within him. Or fear, fear that he was being watched.

And so, she watched Officer Kent quietly, playing her role of the good Sub-Auditor assistant.
Haval
 Easy come, easy go . It was hard not to look too interested in the money in front of the others but it wasn't as if the Inquisition couldn't get more.

In response to the skeleton man's comment,  'Any of you ever play somewhere more down hive? Some people take 'to the death' very seriously.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant remains silent while Arl speaks, his expression a forced mask of indifference. He keeps eye contact with Arl, his only movement the tightening of jaw muscles under his flabby jowls. " I see, " he replies flatly after a moment's pause. With the same guarded expression he adds after another pause, " It sounds like something best brought to the Investigation Divisio of the Enforcers. I'm just a beat officer. What makes you think I would be able to help. " His eyes dart just for a moment down to his hands, resting stiffly on the table, then up to Marcella, and back to Arl. 
 

Arl smiled inwardly as Officer Kant seemed to be at least sniffing the bait.

" There are reasons for my interest in you, Officer Kant.  First, as someone on the "front lines" of the Hive's struggle against contraband, you would have a more...  practical knowledge of the situation than some others.  Some inspector from the Investigation Divisio might have extensive knowledge about what I seek, but his knowledge would be... abstract to the point on being theoretical.  I can read someone else's files and get the same information and still be no closer to understanding what I need to understand.  Your knowledge, while perhaps less expansive, would provide a more tangible and useful basis for what I hope to achieve.  The second reason is that I want to use the lower tiers of this scheme as stepping stones to the upper tiers.  There are hints that there is more going on here than meets the eye.  The flow of goods seems to be benefitting the accounts in the lower levels of the Hive and, frankly, there is very little down there to warrant the sort of movement of Thrones demonstrated.  I cannot evaluate how the Guild should respond without knowing what they are moving.  That will require eyes on the ground, Officer Kant.  Someone who knows the players, who can be squeezed for information and might have an idea of whom to watch. "
Bennosuke
Officer Kant does his best to keep his face impassive as Arl speaks, though his lips draw tight and his brow furrows at the mention of being squeezed. " Very well, " he says between clenched teeth, a warm flush drawing into his cheeks, " and if I don't comply? " He clenches and unclenches his fists.

********************************************

" It's just a saying, " the short man in the wig titters, bringing a gloved hand to his mouth as he giggles.

The Rogue Trader ignores this and replies, " Perhaps. Depends on the hive. " He winks to the man next to him, then bellows out a series of loud gaffaws.

The dealer lays out cards, three for each player, from The Emperor's Tarrot. Orla takes a look at her cards, trying her best to follow the lead of the others at the table, quickly realizing she has very little idea of whether her hand is good or bad.
Haval
Orla has gambled ocasionally but normally prefers to avoid situations where she might end up losing a lot of money for no real gain. This is not a game she is even that familar with. On the other hand she is usually a good liar.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

See the ooc for social rolls
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella wanted to, so, so bad. She wanted to open a passageway between her mind and Kents, to peak in through the window using the Warp as her telescope...but she knew that might not be the best idea. In public, like this, in a pub when they were trying to remain somewhat undercover? Only in the direst of circumstances.

But maybe there was a way that she could help Arl out. Indirectly. So far, to Kent's belief, he wasn't the focus or suspect in the investigation, but if he was uncooperative?

 "Oh." 

The soft word came from 'Sub-Auditor Sinclaire', as she turned her head to look at Arl for a moment, a look of concern on her face as if they had now become aware of a grim possibility they once considered unnecessary. Reaching into her flak cloak, she withdrew a notepad and pen, opened it up, the pages hidden from Kent, and started writing. She repeated her words to herself as she wrote out each syllable,   "Off...icer...Kent...re...fused...to...co...op...e  rate...possi...ble...sus...pect..."  
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant does his best to keep his face impassive as Arl speaks, though his lips draw tight and his brow furrows at the mention of being squeezed. " Very well, " he says between clenched teeth, a warm flush drawing into his cheeks, " and if I don't comply? " He clenches and unclenches his fists. 
 

Arl smiled benignly, although the smile didn't reach his eyes.

" We would, of course, continue our audit, regardless of your assistance.  We would, of course, make recommendations based on our findings.  We would, of course, follow every lead and make sure that anyone involved with any malfeasance we discovered would get their due.  Your compliance will not make or break this audit, Officer Kant.  It will happen regardless of your compliance.  However, there are... ramifications to every decision.

Auditing has a concept of materiality.  Contrary to popular belief, we do not worry about every last Throne and bit -- the larger the account in question, the larger the error needs to be deemed important enough to follow up on.  It is a matter of the auditor's judgment. Small amounts can be overlooked, deemed a rounding error in the totality of affairs. "
Bennosuke
 
 Spoiler: OOC@Haval 
That's a success on each roll without additional levels. I'd say that's enough to maybe get one question answered without raising suspicion. That said, I'd be happy to continue IC since Rax plans on joining.
 


**************************************************  ****

Officer Kant allows a sneer to spread across his face for a brief instant, before forcing it back down behind his impassive mask. " I see, " he says slowly, purposefully, " I guess I best let you ask your questions then. " He glares at Arl, then allows it to pass over to Marcella.
Haval
Orla takes losing a hand with good grace. Which isn't that hard as it wasn't her money in the first place. She'll pay enough attention to the other players to see if anyone uses a name, but otherwise she'll focus on Casmirre when she had the opportunity. After losing a hand,  'So...other then taking my money what's a man like you doing in a place like this? Shouldn't you be exploring the frontier or something?' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant allows a sneer to spread across his face for a brief instant, before forcing it back down behind his impassive mask. " I see, " he says slowly, purposefully, " I guess I best let you ask your questions then. " He glares at Arl, then allows it to pass over to Marcella. 
 

Arl notes Officer Kant's sneer but lets it slide for the moment.

" Excellent!  I will certain make a note of your enthusiastic cooperation in this matter.  My first question would be the most obvious.  There is circumstantial evidence that there is a flow of weapons and money going down-hive, in exchange for some good or service provided by the criminal clan or clans below.  What could they possibly be doing for such remuneration?  
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant allows a sneer to spread across his face for a brief instant, before forcing it back down behind his impassive mask. " I see, " he says slowly, purposefully, " I guess I best let you ask your questions then. " He glares at Arl, then allows it to pass over to Marcella. 
 


Marcella visibly made pen-slashing motions across her pad, communicating that she was crossing out her prior recommendation.
Bennosuke
Casmirre's got a rather serious expression on his face as he studies his cards. He casts Orla with the same focus, lips pursed. Then he allows himself a small, almost coy grin. " Well, " he says slowly, almost softly, " I'm here to take all of your money! " He allows himself a series of booming, self satisfied gafaws. He tenses his brow in mock earnest, but says with the same humor, " Are you asking how a man like  me  could be invited to a party like  this ? " He pounds a fist on the table. " Well, my inquisitive and soon to be broke friend, I happen to have friends in high places. I'll gut a xenos on a derelict junker, but I'll woo the Lord's wife and steal her favor... if you know what I mean! I've been to the darkest reaches of this here subsector! A simple party ain't nothing for me. "

**************************************************  *

" Remuneration? " the officer asks with genuine confusion, " you mean like pay? " Arl and Marcella can see the gears struggling to turn in the poor man's skull as he struggles to make sense of Arl's words. With a frown Kant adds, " If you're asking me what sort of a trade is going on, I can't say I'd know. I imagine there's all sorts of abandoned treasures in the underhive. But it's dangerous as Cadia down there, so I'm sure it's easiest for the wealthy to let the mutes and dregs do all the dirty work... not that I know anything about such dealins. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Remuneration? " the officer asks with genuine confusion, " you mean like pay? " Arl and Marcella can see the gears struggling to turn in the poor man's skull as he struggles to make sense of Arl's words. With a frown Kant adds, " If you're asking me what sort of a trade is going on, I can't say I'd know. I imagine there's all sorts of abandoned treasures in the underhive. But it's dangerous as Cadia down there, so I'm sure it's easiest for the wealthy to let the mutes and dregs do all the dirty work... not that I know anything about such dealins. " 
 


Marcella blinked, looking visibly confused.

 "But it's your job to know,  Officer  Kant,"  she asked, her softer presence and voice contrasting with Arl, who had, so far, been the main speaker.

 "We have a growing body of evidence for a smuggling ring between the Upper and lower spire, between which you are assigned to be a barrier, and you're telling us this is all news to you? You know nothing about it? At all? Thousands of thrones worth, and you didn't notice anything at all?" 

She held that pad and pen before her, ready to write down the mans words and commit them to records for the Credit Guild to examine and utilise. Or so he thought. However, to Arl, the hunter, what Marcella was doing might be more obvious: she was trying to herd Kant into a position where he had to admit either gross incompetence, or possible collusion. Neither would be particularly welcome to his situation.
Bennosuke
Officer Kant opens his mouth to speak, his expression tight and nervous, but then he takes a long exhale. Speaking flatly he replies slowly almost condescendingly, " I believe you just mentioned concern that I was somehow involved. While I am sure we can both agree to my innocence, it sure sounds like you are hoping I will implicate myself. " He gives Marcella a hard scowl. He adds, crossing his arms over his chest, " While I will do everything in my power to help you in your  investigation,  I can't give you information I don't have. I am simply a patrolman. Perhaps you want to ask a more specific question? "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Casmirre's got a rather serious expression on his face as he studies his cards. He casts Orla with the same focus, lips pursed. Then he allows himself a small, almost coy grin. " Well, " he says slowly, almost softly, " I'm here to take all of your money! " He allows himself a series of booming, self satisfied gafaws. He tenses his brow in mock earnest, but says with the same humor, " Are you asking how a man like  me  could be invited to a party like  this ? " He pounds a fist on the table. " Well, my inquisitive and soon to be broke friend, I happen to have friends in high places. I'll gut a xenos on a derelict junker, but I'll woo the Lord's wife and steal her favor... if you know what I mean! I've been to the darkest reaches of this here subsector! A simple party ain't nothing for me. " 
 

Orla indulges Casmirre's reaction by looking amused.  'A party like this makes sense. From the looks of it downstairs all sorts of important people got invited and I feel like a Rogue Trader ought to count.'  She'll watch him for a second to see how he responded to compliments.  'I mean Helius. We can't be that special can we? I hear there's all sorts of Hive Worlds out there.' 
Bennosuke
The Rogue Trader chuckles at Orla's statement. " Oh, I'm sure there are all sorts of important people here, " he agrees, nodding his big head, adding, " though I find most of these parties a big bore. I suppose we'll see what trouble we can get into one I've taken everyone's money at this table though! " He gives the gaunt man a wink, who wrinkles his nose and glares at Cassimere.

The Rogue Trade studies his cards for a little longer then asks of the table, " Anyone know if either Lord Vistick or Lord Bartelby have arrived yet? "

The others all shake their heads, and the gaunt man whispers under his breath, " Who could hear anything downstairs with all your booming. " The Rogue Trader's gaze falls on the gaunt man, but he says nothing.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trade studies his cards for a little longer then asks of the table, " Anyone know if either Lord Vistick or Lord Bartelby have arrived yet? "  
 

 'Friends of yours are they?'  Orla inquired politely.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Assuming these people are locals, has Orla heard of either of them

Common Lore (Imperium) vs. Int 31
Lord Vistick
 (1d100)[ 73 ] 
Lord Bartelby
 (1d100)[ 50 ] 
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant opens his mouth to speak, his expression tight and nervous, but then he takes a long exhale. Speaking flatly he replies slowly almost condescendingly, " I believe you just mentioned concern that I was somehow involved. While I am sure we can both agree to my innocence, it sure sounds like you are hoping I will implicate myself. " He gives Marcella a hard scowl. He adds, crossing his arms over his chest, " While I will do everything in my power to help you in your  investigation,  I can't give you information I don't have. I am simply a patrolman. Perhaps you want to ask a more specific question? " 
 

 "If we were looking to get you to implicate yourself, Officer, we'd be in an interrogation room with you speaking into a recording device, sir, not sitting and talking with you in a pub." 

Marcella's voice was gentle and her expression eerily calm, as she looked back at her notepad and started writing some things upon its surface.

 "So, a possibly large smuggling operation bottlenecked through your purview of responsibility, and you know nothing about it? You've seen nothing? You've heard nothing?"  she asked, her tone being one of confirmation, rather than accusation, as she held her pen up over her pad in readiness to take down Kant's words.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant opens his mouth to speak, his expression tight and nervous, but then he takes a long exhale. Speaking flatly he replies slowly almost condescendingly, " I believe you just mentioned concern that I was somehow involved. While I am sure we can both agree to my innocence, it sure sounds like you are hoping I will implicate myself. " He gives Marcella a hard scowl. He adds, crossing his arms over his chest, " While I will do everything in my power to help you in your  investigation,  I can't give you information I don't have. I am simply a patrolman. Perhaps you want to ask a more specific question? " 
 

" Not at all, Officer Kant.  However, in your line of work... on your "beat," I believe is the phrase, I am certain your eyes are open, along with your ears.   Likewise, I believe that preventing unauthorized transit between the Underhive and the Midhive is within your remit.  I can prove something is going on -- the fact that weapons and Thrones are leaving the Midhive and ending up down below is a fact.  As for your innocence... "   Arl trailed his voice off for a moment, then forced a smile back into place.

" You will forgive my cynicism, but I will certainly stipulate that you are not a target of this investigation and I have no evidence of your involvement in the matter under investigation.
 But a man in your position sees and hears things, Officer Kant... perhaps even things that he cannot address directly due to the nature and power of the perpetrators.  Such a man might not think he could do much about such a situation and might not speak up or openly acknowledge what he has seen and heard.  I would not consider such an individual to be "innocent," but such omissions would be understandable, particularly if, when given the opportunity to lay down such a burden that another might pick it up, they chose to cooperate. "
Bennosuke
Though the names sound familiar to Orla, both houses Vistick and Bartelby simply register as wealthy noble families of the hive.

(OOC: Rax, feel free to roll as well)

The Rogue Trader gives another loud guffaw at Orla's question and replies, " Oh no! But Emperor knows things always get interesting when you get too many Lords all under one roof! " No one else seems to find this funny, and Casmirre is met with a silent room.

***********************************************

The officer shrugs, doing his best not to show his anxiety, despite the creeping flush of his skin and his wide eyed stare. " I cannot disagree with anything you two have said, " he says, trying to slow his words down, " But you asked me why there are shipments being brought down to the underhive! Even  if  one might be aware of them, that does not mean  they  would know why such deals are happening... if you understand what I am sayin'! "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The officer shrugs, doing his best not to show his anxiety, despite the creeping flush of his skin and his wide eyed stare. " I cannot disagree with anything you two have said, " he says, trying to slow his words down, " But you asked me why there are shipments being brought down to the underhive! Even  if  one might be aware of them, that does not mean  they  would know why such deals are happening... if you understand what I am sayin'! " 
 

Having remained silent for the first half of the meeting, Marc was becoming emboldened, playing wing-woman to Arl, trying to now help keep Kant off-balance for her partner.

 "You cannot disagree with anything we've said...and you have suspicions...have you investigated any of these? Lodged enquiries? Reported suspicious activity to your superiors? Made informal enquiries through civilian informants?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trader gives another loud guffaw at Orla's question and replies, " Oh no! But Emperor knows things always get interesting when you get too many Lords all under one roof! " No one else seems to find this funny, and Casmirre is met with a silent room. 
 

Orla grins,  'No doubt. Then it's a business opportunity is it? Let me know if you're hiring? Though I'm sure a man in your position has people already.' 
Bennosuke
Officer Kant raises a beefy hand to palm his forehead in a gesture that was either frustration or guilt. " No, " he mutters slowly, as if the question pained him. He looks to Arl, his expression almost pleading.

**************************************************  *

The Rogue Trader chuckles again, " You must be very loyal, ready to leave your current employer to joint a total stranger. Just the sort of person I'm looking to hire. " He gives Orla a teasing grin.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant raises a beefy hand to palm his forehead in a gesture that was either frustration or guilt. " No, " he mutters slowly, as if the question pained him. He looks to Arl, his expression almost pleading. 
 


Marcella looked at Officer Kant for a few long, uncomfortable seconds, her neutral expression and bright eyes just staring at him as the cogs of her brain moved against each other inside her head.

Finally, she brought that pad up again and started writing into it, as only the sounds of pen-scratching-on-paper filled the air between them.

 "So you cannot disagree with our suspicions as they mirror your own conjecture in a smuggling operation between the Upper Hive and Underhive...but you haven't made any investigations, lodged no enquiries, have not reported any suspicious activities to your superiors, nor conferred with any informants? You've just gone about your day as if nothing was happening?" 

Marc allowed it to hang in the air for a bit, even looking over at Arl for a few moments before back to Officer Kant, that pad and pen in her hands a more lethal weapon than any firearm she could produce.

 "Why?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trader chuckles again, " You must be very loyal, ready to leave your current employer to joint a total stranger. Just the sort of person I'm looking to hire. " He gives Orla a teasing grin. 
 

 'Oh, I'm very loyal me.'  Orla leans back in her chair.  'My real employer lends people like me out to those that can pay the credits. The man downstairs is just the one who has paid for me to the end of the week. Always got to be thinking about the next contract. I get bored otherwise.'  It was easy to look like she was only thinking of Casmirre's money.  'I don't know you that well but I reckon a Rogue Trader is probably doing something fun.'  She'll point towards the man's winnings,  'And you don't seem short of money.' 
Bennosuke
The muscles in Officer Kant's jaw flex and swell under his flabby cheek, and an angry vessel begins to pulse over his right temple. Through gritted teeth he replies, " That's just what you do as a patrolman. You do your job. You keep your head down. You don't ask questions. " While the man's intent had been hard to read throughout the interrogation, it was clear that he was being sincere at this moment. Of course, the two acolytes were aware of the concerns of corruption in the man's record, but it was clear he was not a "big fish" in whatever pond of scum and villainy they were wading into.

**************************************************

The Rogue Trader studies Orla for a long moment, the grin on his face barely masking intelligent and measured considerations. " I'll think on it, " Casmirre says slowly, eyes locked on Orla's. Then the humor returns to his words and he adds, " And I guess we'll have to see just how much I throw you into my debt after the next hand. Perhaps you'll have to travel with me just to pay off your debts! "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trader studies Orla for a long moment, the grin on his face barely masking intelligent and measured considerations. " I'll think on it, " Casmirre says slowly, eyes locked on Orla's. Then the humor returns to his words and he adds, " And I guess we'll have to see just how much I throw you into my debt after the next hand. Perhaps you'll have to travel with me just to pay off your debts! " 
 

 'I suppose that depends on what you might need me for doesn't it, but shouldn't I have an interview first? I could shoot something but they took away my gun at the door.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 The muscles in Officer Kant's jaw flex and swell under his flabby cheek, and an angry vessel begins to pulse over his right temple. Through gritted teeth he replies, "That's just what you do as a patrolman. You do your job. You keep your head down. You don't ask questions." While the man's intent had been hard to read throughout the interrogation, it was clear that he was being sincere at this moment. Of course, the two acolytes were aware of the concerns of corruption in the man's record, but it was clear he was not a "big fish" in whatever pond of scum and villainy they were wading into. 

The Psyker read between the lines of what Kant was professing, hinting that there were  others  in on the scheme, and in higher positions than he.

 "We can,"  she answered, her voice still soft.

 "And we don't forget those who point us in the right direction..." 

The double-edged nature of her words was also obvious: they also didn't forget those who misled them.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The muscles in Officer Kant's jaw flex and swell under his flabby cheek, and an angry vessel begins to pulse over his right temple. Through gritted teeth he replies, " That's just what you do as a patrolman. You do your job. You keep your head down. You don't ask questions. " While the man's intent had been hard to read throughout the interrogation, it was clear that he was being sincere at this moment. Of course, the two acolytes were aware of the concerns of corruption in the man's record, but it was clear he was not a "big fish" in whatever pond of scum and villainy they were wading into. 
 

Arl quirked an eyebrow and stared at Officer Kant for a moment, as if carefully evaluating what to say next.

" I see.  Perhaps this matter rises higher than I initially thought.  However, allow me to make you... a limited-time offer, Officer Kant.  I will continue investigating this matter, as a matter of duty to the Guild and to the oaths I have sworn.  If you have a surfeit of unasked questions, perhaps it is time that you unburdened yourself of this excess weight.  Perhaps if you were willing to share the load, you could find yourself in a better place, both personally and professionally. "
Bennosuke
Cassimere chuckles, slapping a hand on the table. He jovially replies, " On a ship as big as mine, sometimes you just need another warm body, " as if this bleak view on the value of a human life was somehow funny. His tone sobers a little, when he sees that Orla is at least somewhat serious. Clearing his throat, the Rogue Trader will say, " If you really want to talk about it, perhaps we can do it after we're all done with cards. " He studies Orla's face for one long moment, before turning his attention to his hand.

(OOC: Anything else you want to try to accomplish here?)

**************************************************  ***

Officer Kant's eyes narrow as he stares slowly from Arl, to Marcella, and back to Arl again. He takes an even slower breath in, and for a moment it seems like he might never breathe out, and then finally he says with measured caution and a voice barely above a whisper, " Can I be guaranteed... protection, if I help you? "
Haval
Orla just regards Cassimere right back with a small smile.  'At the very least we can discuss money. But of course the offer is open to the rest of you gentlemen.'  This was directed at the other players.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

I do want to know if there's anything worth knowing about the other players. Let me know if you want a charm roll or anything.
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella remained quiet next to Arl as Officer Kant dipped his toe into the informant pool. She knew this was Arls catch, the one he had researched and studied and wanted to pursue, so she didn't want to take that away from him.

Instead, she turned her head slightly to watch his reaction.
Bennosuke
Cassimere chuckles, while the other mostly just grumble and stare with dead seriousness at their cards.

(OOC: I think you can take your pick of Charm or Deceive here)

************************************************

Officer Kant, following Marcella, keeps his attention locked on Arl.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Cassimere chuckles, while the other mostly just grumble and stare with dead seriousness at their cards.

(OOC: I think you can take your pick of Charm or Deceive here) 
 

ooc - In that case, Charm roll for the last post.

Charm vs. Fel 41
 (1d100)[ 5 ] 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant's eyes narrow as he stares slowly from Arl, to Marcella, and back to Arl again. He takes an even slower breath in, and for a moment it seems like he might never breathe out, and then finally he says with measured caution and a voice barely above a whisper, " Can I be guaranteed... protection, if I help you? " 
 

" For starters, your name will not be directly connected to what we do -- this is an informal conversation, not an interrogation.  No official record will go to file, immunizing you from anyone tracing our investigation back to you.  The investigation pre-exists anything you might tell us, so your information will not start anything.  We will not move forward until we have developed corroborating evidence independent of anything you say, so you will not be causing anything to happen.  I suspect that keeping your name out of our files would be your best defense, although, depending on what you have to say, we may have to do more than simply maintain that this conversation does not exist. "
Bennosuke
As Orla continues to bleed away the thrones given to her by The Interrogator, she begins to butter up the squat heavily jowled man in the blue wig. Apparently, the noble is some sort of high ranked jeweler who sources the best gems produced in the promethium mines deep within the hive. She manages to squeeze from him his name, Gabriel Thalmus. He is apparently a good friend of the previously mentioned Lord Vistick, a fact that seems to rankle the Rogue Trader ever slightly. By the time Orla is out of money, she's decided that she clearly has to find out more about Lord Vistick, and it's clear that Master Jeweler Thalmus might be a good in.

**************************************************  *************

 Officer Kant listens to Arl with an ugly stare, his teeth clenched to the point where you can almost hear the teeth cracking. " A couple of the Enforcers have been... doing business with one of the Underhive bosses, " he says slowly, as if this were news to the two Acolytes, " A particularly nasty man by the name of Boss Half Face. It's mostly drugs, but sometimes it's weapons. That said, his gang seems to be way better armed than what we've been supplying, so he's likely got other sources. Anyways, there's just a few of us involved. " He pauses again. He swallows, and his eyes dart to Marcella for a moment, then finally he adds, " I can tell you the names of the others if you want... and I can tell you who in the Enforcers seems to be organizing it all. But I want full immunity! None of this comes back to me, and none of this effects me and my career. I want your promise on that, do you hear? "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 As Orla continues to bleed away the thrones given to her by The Interrogator, she begins to butter up the squat heavily jowled man in the blue wig. Apparently, the noble is some sort of high ranked jeweler who sources the best gems produced in the promethium mines deep within the hive. She manages to squeeze from him his name, Gabriel Thalmus. He is apparently a good friend of the previously mentioned Lord Vistick, a fact that seems to rankle the Rogue Trader ever slightly. By the time Orla is out of money, she's decided that she clearly has to find out more about Lord Vistick, and it's clear that Master Jeweler Thalmus might be a good in. 
 

Orla has moved a bit closer to Thalmus to give him her full attention.  'Master Thalmus, tell me more about this friend of yours? I take it he doesn't have a voidship like our friend the Lord Captain here but he sounds quite important. If he's supposed to be here later perhaps you could introduce me?' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant listens to Arl with an ugly stare, his teeth clenched to the point where you can almost hear the teeth cracking. " A couple of the Enforcers have been... doing business with one of the Underhive bosses, " he says slowly, as if this were news to the two Acolytes, " A particularly nasty man by the name of Boss Half Face. It's mostly drugs, but sometimes it's weapons. That said, his gang seems to be way better armed than what we've been supplying, so he's likely got other sources. Anyways, there's just a few of us involved. " He pauses again. He swallows, and his eyes dart to Marcella for a moment, then finally he adds, " I can tell you the names of the others if you want... and I can tell you who in the Enforcers seems to be organizing it all. But I want full immunity! None of this comes back to me, and none of this effects me and my career. I want your promise on that, do you hear? " 
 

Arl pretends to mull things over for the barest of moments.

" I believe we can arrange that, Officer Kant.  Your name as an informant will not appear in our files.  Your participation where the actual matters will be scrupulously pushed to the far margins of the matter, too far to edge to merit prosecution or punishment.  Any attempt to note it in your file will manage to get lost in the shuffle of the paperwork.  I give you my word as a Credit Guild auditor.  "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella remained quiet, knowing her part in the good-cop-bad-cop routine had been done, and she'd done it well. To overdo herself now would render her contribution undone, and so the Psyker sat there quietly and let Arl finish the conversation and bag his catch. She could only imagine how happy the assassin felt inside, his work and instincts paying off and nabbing a contact for their investigation.

With the matter between Kant and Arl settled, Marcella got her pen and pad ready to jot down names...
Bennosuke
By now, Orla is down to her last hand, the thrones slipping away through her fingers.

The blue haired man titters softly at Orla, hiding his mouth behind a hand of fanned cards. " Whom, Lord Vistick, " he asks, eyeing the Rogue Trader cautiously, " I believe my lord is here already. " He narrows his eyes slightly, glancing from Casmirre to Orla, and then back again. With a continued surreptitious whisper he says, " I thought you were hoping to ally yourself to the Rogue Trader. I am sure he would not love to hear you now! " Thalmus lowers his cards, chuckles a little louder and announces to the table, " I will have to fold this round I guess. " He winks at Orla and says, " good luck! "

*******************************************

The Officer studies Arl and Marcella one last time. After a moment's longer hesitation he says in hushed voice, " I and the others have been getting our orders from Sergeant Flaviana. I'm not sure if she's got someone above her in the Enforcers, but she's the one we've dealt with. " He pauses, looking to see if the name registers at all with Arl and Marcella. The name is familiar enough, after Arl and Marcella had reviewed all those files. Sergeant Katzia Flaviana was one of the supervising officers responsible for the patrols of the Underhive and the guarding of the railcar. Her record had been squeaky clean!

Officer Kant continues, " She never said who directly she was working for, but they must have had a decent wallet, if you know what I mean. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 Scribble...scribble... went the pen scratching sounds.

 "And the others?"  Marcella asked.

 "You mention 'a couple', ones that were dealing with Boss Half-Face?" 
Haval
Orla doesn't seem particularly worried about her losses. To Thalmus,  'The Captain would be upset would he? Does that mean the two of them are fighting about something?'  And to clear up any misunderstandings,  'The Captain and me have not worked anything out yet. I go where there's a chance of getting paid. And, considering his title, Lord Vistick seems like he might be a useful man to know.' 
Bennosuke
Officer Kant's jaw clenches, and this time the grinding of his teeth practically echoes throughout the room. His face turning red, he growls under his breath, " What do the others matter if you have the person in charge? " He glares at Marcella, his hand vibrating his mug against the table. He shakes his head, and then turns to Arl. Officer Kant lowers his voice and says to Arl, " You don't really need their names, do you? You... wouldn't you be blowing your investigation if you got everyone involved? "

**************************************************  ****

Thalmus rolls his eyes. He leans towards Orla, covering his mouth as if that were enough to hide his words, and says, " Everyone knows that our Rogue Trader is an ally of Lord Durchess! And everyone knows too, that Houses Durchess and Vistick are... well theire practically at war with each other! " He speaks as if he were explaining to a xenos how the sky were blue, and does little to lower the volume of his voice.
Haval
Orla pats Thalmus on the hand,  'Honestly this is the first I'm hearing of it. Perhaps I'm hanging out with the wrong people.'  Did the Interogator know about this?  'How much of a war are we talking about here? If it's that bad I feel like the chance of me getting a contract with someone goes up.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant's jaw clenches, and this time the grinding of his teeth practically echoes throughout the room. His face turning red, he growls under his breath, " What do the others matter if you have the person in charge? " He glares at Marcella, his hand vibrating his mug against the table. He shakes his head, and then turns to Arl. Officer Kant lowers his voice and says to Arl, " You don't really need their names, do you? You... wouldn't you be blowing your investigation if you got everyone involved? " 
 


Marcella nodded her head slowly,  "they're all involved. There is no point removing the overall one in charge if more agents remain, they're still vulnerable to blackmail, at least, from this Boss Half-Face, and more. Names, please." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant's jaw clenches, and this time the grinding of his teeth practically echoes throughout the room. His face turning red, he growls under his breath, " What do the others matter if you have the person in charge? " He glares at Marcella, his hand vibrating his mug against the table. He shakes his head, and then turns to Arl. Officer Kant lowers his voice and says to Arl, " You don't really need their names, do you? You... wouldn't you be blowing your investigation if you got everyone involved? " 
 

Arl gestured to Marcela with his right hand, as if asking for a moment to ponder Officer Kant's words.  He paused as if pondering Officer Kant's request. then spoke.

" I am a trifle torn on that subject...  On the one hand, I am reluctant to extend my protection beyond yourself... and, on the other, I understand your reluctance to implicate your peers in this matter. "

With that, Arl paused again.

" I think, at least for the moment, we can table this informal conversation, finish our drinks and call it an evening.  With any luck, you shan't hear from us again... "

With that, Arl drained the last of his beer.
Bennosuke
Thalmus chuckles at this, noticing Orla's hand contact. He shrugs and in the same whistle of a voice replies, " Oh, you know how old noble houses are; ancient feuds with long forgotten slights, always nipping at each other's necks, vying for power. " He sighs and shakes his head. " It's all very... cloak and dagger, " he adds with another titter, " no open fighting in the streets... though did you hear about what happened to that master of the Credit Guild? I heard he was assassinated in his home, along with his house guard. I heard the place looked like it had been blasted by a squad of Astartes. " He says this last bit in an almost whisper.

**************************************************  *****

Officer Kant now reaches out and grabs Arl's wrist, his grasp surprisingly firm. " And how will I get in touch with you, " he hisses, " you can't just... just leave me hanging like this. " His face is bright red now, his eyes bloodshot and glassy.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella tucked her lethal weapon away, the notepad and pen, as Arl finished off his beer. It was time to go, and Marc was feeling confident with herself that she'd played her role of bad cop well enough to get what they wanted! Though she would have liked to secure the names of the low-ranking officers involved, for the sake of completion at least. After all, when one pulled out a weed, one made sure to evict it completely from the soil, root and stem.

Standing up when Arl did, Marcella paused and waited for his response to Kants visible anxiety.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Officer Kant now reaches out and grabs Arl's wrist, his grasp surprisingly firm. " And how will I get in touch with you, " he hisses, " you can't just... just leave me hanging like this. " His face is bright red now, his eyes bloodshot and glassy. 
 

Arl suppressed his urge to yank his arm free.

" There is a "recreation center" in the Midhive called "The Commissar."  I frequent it and the staff knows me, so even if you don't find me there, a message left with the bartended will get to me... I trust you can be discrete in the subject matter? 

With that, Arl gently removed his arm from the officer's grip.

" Are there any more questions or concerns that you have? "

Assuming none, Arl will lead Marcella out of the bat and back to the safehouse, using a circuitous route.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella watched Kant and Arl, before following the latter out of the bar and back towards their safehouse. The notepad was safely stored within the inner chest-pocket of her coat, its weight reassuring her given it was loaded with information for them to follow.

  "So this..Sergeant Flaviana,"   she would talk to Arl quietly, her voice barely above a whisper,   "we'll pull up what we know on her when we get back. She'll likely start pointing fingers and naming names to save her own hide too,"   she nodded.

Outside of that, Marcella mostly small-talked on the way back, happily chippering away next to Arl as the two made their way back to the safe house. As indicated, the Psychic went to the archives once they had returned, her focus set on pulling up the file on this 'Sergeant Flaviana'.
Haval
 'I did hear about that. So much violence around lately.'  Orla brushes aside the mention of her colleage's activities.  'But if what you say is true, it might make me a bit of money. There's always work for anyone who can shoot straight.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 


Marcella watched Kant and Arl, before following the latter out of the bar and back towards their safehouse. The notepad was safely stored within the inner chest-pocket of her coat, its weight reassuring her given it was loaded with information for them to follow.

  "So this..Sergeant Flaviana,"   she would talk to Arl quietly, her voice barely above a whisper,   "we'll pull up what we know on her when we get back. She'll likely start pointing fingers and naming names to save her own hide too,"   she nodded.

Outside of that, Marcella mostly small-talked on the way back, happily chippering away next to Arl as the two made their way back to the safe house. As indicated, the Psychic went to the archives once they had returned, her focus set on pulling up the file on this 'Sergeant Flaviana'. 
 

" I suspect she may be a harder nut to crack, but it is another link in the chain. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 " I suspect she may be a harder nut to crack, but it is another link in the chain. " 
 


Marcella gave a small, sheepish shrug.

 "Nothing is certain of course, but..."  she trailed off,  "if she's really  that  stubborn...just give me five to ten minutes alone with her,"  the Telepath smiled bashfully.
Bennosuke
Officr Kant says nothing more. He watches with dark countenance as the two acolytes leave.

(OOC: Will let the two PCs continue to RP)

**************************************************  *****

The jeweler titters at Orla's remark about making some extra money, replying, " I imagine that would be helpful, given all of the money you have lost tonight. "

(OOC: Assume you want to move on from here?)
Haval
ooc - Yeah, Orla needs to pass that news about Vistick onto someone. I am invested in seeing if Orla can get a job with the Rogue Trader though. Even I can learn something or it will go bad very quickly.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 




Marcella gave a small, sheepish shrug.

 "Nothing is certain of course, but..."  she trailed off,  "if she's really  that  stubborn...just give me five to ten minutes alone with her,"  the Telepath smiled bashfully. 
 

" Hopefully, it will not come to that, but it may.  Officer Kant was at least uncomfortable enough to want to confess to someone about his sins.  I can only hope that we are able to maneuver this sergeant as easily. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 " Hopefully, it will not come to that, but it may.  Officer Kant was at least uncomfortable enough to want to confess to someone about his sins.  I can only hope that we are able to maneuver this sergeant as easily. " 
 


 "We'll see,"  Marcella responded,  "I doubt she acquired her position over others and kept it by being agreeable and weak-willed,"  she offered her scepticism.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 
 "We'll see,"  Marcella responded,  "I doubt she acquired her position over others and kept it by being agreeable and weak-willed,"  she offered her scepticism. 
 

Arl nodded in agreement.

" We will have to prepare more thoroughly to deal with her...  She will not open up as easily as Kant. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl nodded in agreement.

" We will have to prepare more thoroughly to deal with her...  She will not open up as easily as Kant. " 
 



Marcella giggled gently into her palm, the pair walking through the back-alleys towards the hideout of the acolytes hideout.

 "You can just give me 5 minutes alone with her and I'll tell you who her first crush in high school was!" 

The Psyker giggled again softly, smirking as thoughts oscilated through her mind, most of which she wouldn't share.

 "I wonder how the others fare? Not that I'm jealous at all...getting to dress up and attend such an event..."  Marcella pursed her lips, looking more darkly humorous than lamentful,  "ah well, the Emperor's light guides our way. Duty called, and we answered - we can say that!"  she smiled up at the taller assassin.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 





Marcella giggled gently into her palm, the pair walking through the back-alleys towards the hideout of the acolytes hideout.

 "You can just give me 5 minutes alone with her and I'll tell you who her first crush in high school was!" 

The Psyker giggled again softly, smirking as thoughts oscilated through her mind, most of which she wouldn't share.

 "I wonder how the others fare? Not that I'm jealous at all...getting to dress up and attend such an event..."  Marcella pursed her lips, looking more darkly humorous than lamentful,  "ah well, the Emperor's light guides our way. Duty called, and we answered - we can say that!"  she smiled up at the taller assassin. 
 

Arl paused for a moment and then spoke.

" In case the Interrogator doesn't crack his teeth to say this, you were exemplary in our missions this evening. "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl paused for a moment and then spoke.

" In case the Interrogator doesn't crack his teeth to say this, you were exemplary in our missions this evening. " 
 


Marcella smiled bashfully next to the assassin, her  "thank you..."  softly announced, but sincere.

Unsurprisingly, she did most of the chatting on the way back to the safe-house, where she and Arl would wait for the others to get back.
Bennosuke
Orla and Hound watch as The Rogue Trader artfully bleeds the rest of the players at the table of their thrones, winning hand, after hand, after hand. It is clear from watching that Casmirre is more intuitive than his rough and tumble persona would imply, and is also one hell of a liar.

As the other players begin to wander away from the table, The Rogue Trader is stacking his earnings and collecting them into pouches of velvet. He eyes Orla on the other side of the table, and grinning widely says, " Well, I hope you learned a thing or two. I have to admit, I am quiet disappointed with your card playing abilities. " He guffaws at this, and then returns his attention to his winnings.
Haval
Orla considered herself a good enough liar to recognise when someone else was doing it. Presumably the Rogue Trader didn't trust her because why would he? Fake Inquisition qualifications or not he was likely used to people wanting something from him. On the other hand he had money didn't he? Probably more money then most people in the Hive. Surely he met a lot of people who wanted his money in some way. No reason to suspect he had any reason to know who else she might be working for.

Aloud she'll grin and say,  'I can't help it if you lot are better gamblers can I. Sometimes your luck just goes against you. You should try that down in the lower hive sometime.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


When Arl and Marcella returned home, the Psychic was surprised to see that the others had not yet returned.

Immediately, her mind drifted to the beautiful clothes, the champagne, the possibly single sons of nobles she could have battered her eye-lashes towards.

Marc half-grumped for a moment before perking up. Looking over at Arl, she flashed a bright smile,  "I'll just let Ezekiel know how we went, then I'm gunna change, shower and get drinks ready. I'm going to have a orange juice! Would you like anything?" 

When she was alone, Marc reached her mind out across the web of the ether, projecting her thoughts towards her current boss, Interrogator Ezekiel.

  '...Interrogator...'   her soft, mental voice would slide into the back of the mans head, where-ever he was.

  '...I will contact you in five minutes...'  

Like last time, Marc's follow up was five minutes on the dot.

  '...Sir...Arl and I have retrieved the flight records of Casimire's cargo ships...we weren't suspected...we also interrogated Officer Kent of the PDF, stationed at a crossing point between the Underhive and the Mid-hive: there are troopers on the take and helping to smuggle the weapons through, we learned one Sergeant Flaviana to be the trooper in charge of that smuggling point...Officer Kent does not suspect us, we posed as Credit Guilder auditors...'  


With her message sent, Marc went and had a shower, and got changed. Once she was clean again, she got herself that orange juice.
Bennosuke
" Lower hive, " The Rogue Trader says, his eyes lighting up as he seems to ruminate over their prior conversation, " Yer friend said that you were a local hire. Yer from the underhive of this city? " There was curiosity in Casmirre's eyes as he studied her, though he will glance over briefly at Hound, if the man is still in the room.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Lower hive, " The Rogue Trader says, his eyes lighting up as he seems to ruminate over their prior conversation, " Yer friend said that you were a local hire. Yer from the underhive of this city? " There was curiosity in Casmirre's eyes as he studied her, though he will glance over briefly at Hound, if the man is still in the room. 
 

 'Well, lots of places are lower Hive from the view of up here.'  Orla doesn't straight up answer the question.  'The lower down you go the rougher the neighborhood. I'm from all over but you know they don't get many Underhivers up here. That would be  illegal .'  Orla says the last word with a derisive emphasis to underline how little she cared about what was legal. She would let him take her implication without having to state it outright.  'Would me coming from a place like that be a problem? Just out of interest.' 
Bennosuke
Casimmire chuckles jovially at the question and replies, " No, not at all. In fact, I could probably use someone who knows the Underhive here. It's a shame it would be  illegal  for an underhiver to be up here tonight. " He raises a mischievous eyebrow at Orla, and shrugs. " Let me know if ye wanna talk about it later, " he says furtively, " I'm sure I could make it worth your while. "

The Rogue Trader removes an ornately carved metal cask from his belt, unscrews the top, and takes a long swig. He winks at Orla, and then goes and wanders into a corner of the room, away from potential prying ears.
Haval
Orla will grin at the wink and follow Casimmire away from anyone who might be listening. Quietly,  'Well if it's worth my while I'm listening. Unless you'd rather we go somewhere more private to talk about this?' 
Bennosuke
In their private little corner, the Rogue Trader's expression suddenly becomes more serious. " You are from the underhive here then, " he asks with pointed curiosity, one bushy eyebrow raised, " If so, and if I am certain I can trust you, then I certainly do have a job for you. " There was something of the dead serious anger that Orla had first seen in the man's eyes, a certain wild flame that could burst into violence at a moments notice.
Haval
 'Ok then. I  am  from the Underhive, but if you tell anyone at this party I said that I'll deny it.'  Orla will pause for moment to get another lho stick out of her pocket.  'You might want to narrow it down a little over what you want though. Once you're down there it's a lot bigger then you'd expect.' 

As for the other thing,  'I don't know about trustworthy. It's not like I can give you my references. How many people do you trust once you get right down to it?'  Orla is genuinely asking.  'I do like people who pay me though.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 


When Arl and Marcella returned home, the Psychic was surprised to see that the others had not yet returned.

Immediately, her mind drifted to the beautiful clothes, the champagne, the possibly single sons of nobles she could have battered her eye-lashes towards.

Marc half-grumped for a moment before perking up. Looking over at Arl, she flashed a bright smile,  "I'll just let Ezekiel know how we went, then I'm gunna change, shower and get drinks ready. I'm going to have a orange juice! Would you like anything?" 

When she was alone, Marc reached her mind out across the web of the ether, projecting her thoughts towards her current boss, Interrogator Ezekiel.

  '...Interrogator...'   her soft, mental voice would slide into the back of the mans head, where-ever he was.

  '...I will contact you in five minutes...'  

Like last time, Marc's follow up was five minutes on the dot.

  '...Sir...Arl and I have retrieved the flight records of Casimire's cargo ships...we weren't suspected...we also interrogated Officer Kent of the PDF, stationed at a crossing point between the Underhive and the Mid-hive: there are troopers on the take and helping to smuggle the weapons through, we learned one Sergeant Flaviana to be the trooper in charge of that smuggling point...Officer Kent does not suspect us, we posed as Credit Guilder auditors...'  


With her message sent, Marc went and had a shower, and got changed. Once she was clean again, she got herself that orange juice. 
 

Arl hesitated for a moment, then smiled.

" We probably should take what comfort we can, since Emperor knows the road gets difficult far too often.  I will shower and then join you for a drink. "
Bennosuke
The Rogue Trader puts up his hands, motioning for Orla to pause a moment at her several points and questions. " Give me the best way to get ahold of you, " Cassimere says slowly, " and tomorrow maybe, or maybe the next day, I will get a hold of you. I have... a task for ya down in The Underhive, but we can discuss it then. I'll need to  discuss  with my colleagues... and of course there will need to be the discussion of payment. " The Rogue Trader raises an eyebrow at Orla, as if to ask her if she will accept the terms as they are for now.

******************************************

While Orla is busy, Hound goes about the party doing his best to gather information from the servants. Lord Durchesse is a known albeit maybe not regular guest of the house. One of the servants tells Hound that of late however, Durchesse has visited several times, each time appearing to be in a state of aggravation. During these visits, he and the General have locked themselves in the study for long and sometimes heated conversations. Though these meetings have been private, Durchesse's voice had carried out of the study during their last meeting, during which he was heard howling about the murder of some Credit Guild big-wig.

As far as the servants know, Durchesse is likely here both out of a social responsibility held by the nobility, but is likely here to scope out the other high families. One young lady even suggests that parties like this are common opportunities for the high lords and ladies to play dangerous if not deadly games of politics.

Beyond that, the servants have also heard rumors about how the lords of some of the other big houses are smelling blood and starting to close in around The Durchesse clan.

Another servant, an older wrinkled woman, warns Hound to stay away from Lord Durchesse. Though she won't explain herself, she hints at how The Lord is wrapped up in dark dealings, and that his desires go beyond just simply gathering power. She says that The General suspects Durchesse of dealings with "alien powers from beyond the stars". Before Hound can question the woman, she slips into the crowd, and despite Hound's best efforts, cannot be found again.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl hesitated for a moment, then smiled.

" We probably should take what comfort we can, since Emperor knows the road gets difficult far too often.  I will shower and then join you for a drink. " 
 


When Marcella returned to the main lounge room area of the Inquisitors HQ, she had with her a large book and some writing implements in her hands. Setting them down and getting her drink, and one for Arl, the Psyker set about writing up the report for Ezekiel, whenever the others would get home.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trader puts up his hands, motioning for Orla to pause a moment at her several points and questions. " Give me the best way to get ahold of you, " Cassimere says slowly, " and tomorrow maybe, or maybe the next day, I will get a hold of you. I have... a task for ya down in The Underhive, but we can discuss it then. I'll need to  discuss  with my colleagues... and of course there will need to be the discussion of payment. " The Rogue Trader raises an eyebrow at Orla, as if to ask her if she will accept the terms as they are for now.  
 

Orla has no intention of giving him any way of contacting her directly. Even if he was suspicious she didn't want him stumbling across the Inquisition compound.  'When I need it I usually rent a room at that place over by the Cathedral.'  Orla refers to a reasonably priced hotel in the mid hive area.  'Call them whenever and I'll hear about it.' 
Bennosuke
A scowl briefly traces across the Rogue Trader's face, but this passes and he gives another good hearted chuckle. " Very cloak and dagger, " he says with a grin that shows his many gold plated teeth. Cassimere sighs and then says, " Very well, if you give me the name of the place, I can leave you a message in the next day or two. Probably will be information about a place and time to meet and discuss further. " His eyes drift toward the door, and he licks his lips and asks of Orla, " Anything else? "
Haval
Orla shrugged,  'Never got into the habit of being easy to contact. My bosses are usually happy enough as long as I keep in touch.'  She will give Casmire the details of a pilgrimage hostel owned by a man named Langham. Langham had the virtue of letting anyone in who could pay the bill and didn't ask too many questions about what someone might be doing staying there. She'll add,  'What if I need to call you? I suppose I could vox your ship if you give me the name.' 
Bennosuke
Casmirre takes out a small slate and quills in the location and information that Orla provides. However, her question causes him to raise a bushy eyebrow, this time a stern expression on the man's face. The Rogue Trade's face is now devoid of humor as he replies flatly, " We can worry about that after you have worked for me a little longer " There is a haughty threat of nobility in the man's voice, a reminder that the Rogue Trader was of a completely different cast from Orla, and did not see her as an equal.
rax
Feeling relatively pleased with his fishing expedition, Hound made his way back to the room where Orla was gambling and found a chair outside. Sitting down in the hallway, he waited patiently for her to come out or to signal him that he was needed inside.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Casmirre takes out a small slate and quills in the location and information that Orla provides. However, her question causes him to raise a bushy eyebrow, this time a stern expression on the man's face. The Rogue Trade's face is now devoid of humor as he replies flatly, " We can worry about that after you have worked for me a little longer " There is a haughty threat of nobility in the man's voice, a reminder that the Rogue Trader was of a completely different cast from Orla, and did not see her as an equal. 
 

Orla notices but knows better then to comment. Aristocrats were all the same apparently. Even off-worlders.  'You got it Captain. Next time we speak I'll look into getting a way of calling me directly.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Nothing else to add so going to try and get out of here to go talk to Hound.
 
Bennosuke
Orla steps outside, to find Hound seated in the hallway.
Haval
Orla is not going to talk to Hound while there was any chance that they were in earshot of Casmire. She'll point to the opposite side of the building to encourage him to follow her to somewhere quieter. After they'd put some distance between themselves and the Rogue Trader,  'I think he's going to offer me a job. Or he's going to get me somewhere to ask me some questions. Tell me this is a good idea?' 
rax
 "Did he reveal anything as to the  nature  of this job?"  Hound asks in return.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Did he reveal anything as to the  nature  of this job?"  Hound asks in return. 
 

 'Sounds like he needs a local to show him round the Underhive. Said he's going to talk to some people first and get back to me.' 
rax
 "Well, there's clearly a risk that he intends to run a background check on you. Here, you have advanced yourself as a security professional. Do your past activities diverge enough from that line of work that he would have reason to become  more  suspicious of you and your intentions?" 
Haval
 'Well it's not like I tell anyone up here where I'm from.'  Orla considers the question,  'They manage to find anyone up here who knows who I am and is willing to talk to them all they ought to know is the same as what your lot did before we met. He doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd be bothered by a little smuggling. Seems like it'd be a plus for him even. The real question is what happens if he calls the people I'm supposed to be working for.' 
Bennosuke
 Act II Scene V 
" Suffer not the unclean to live... "

About a week later, The Interrogator calls the acolytes into his new study. Though the room is decorated as sumptuously as ever, Ezekiel appears almost strung out. Dark bags hang under his cold blue eyes, and a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, causing the smallest of his dark brown hair to mat to the skin. The room is warm, and though the Interrogator has not been so bold as to remove his coat, he has undone the buttons of his white undershirt to expose some of his hairless chest.

" Thank you for coming in, " he says with a grimace once everyone has arrived, " we've come a long way, but I'm afraid we still have a lot of work ahead of us, and it's only going to get a lot more dangerous. " Stooped over a pile of scrolls at his desk, Interrogator Ezekiel reaches for a crystal goblet of amsec, the movement almost reflexive, but he does not lift the glass and bring it to his lips. Instead he sighs and continues, " I have some thoughts on our next move... how to get more so that we can start drawing the noose around Lorde Durchesse's neck. But, The Inquisitor has told me I need to do a better job of collaborating. So, what does the team suggest? " Ezekiel studies the group for a long moment, the hand around the glass almost trembling. Despite himself, he lifts the glass to his lips, and takes a sip of the amber colored liquid.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


It had been a rather pleasant week for Marcella, all things considered. With others working on the leads and her role done in collecting the starmaps and interrogating the corrupt PDF officer, the Psyker had been left to her own devices, and so she had returned to her little clinic in a more upscale neighborhood of the Mid-Hive. Here, there was no shortage of patients that needed a host of minor ailments checked and inspected 'just in case', as well as the odd broken arm, hernia's, biopsies and cataracts, just to name a few. Though the psyker lacked the...social graces to come off as a charismatic figure, her unusual, bubbly persona and genuine help was enough to win most over.

In addition to that...Marcella smiled while walking to the meeting, the views from the cockpit of an Aquila Lander she was allowed to fly about to keep her pilots hours up and license retained, still fresh in her mind. Just some odd little jobs here and there, nothing major, transport a Naval officer from one part of the hive to another, return with some durasteel cargo crates. Small time stuff really. But getting behind the yoke, feeling the weight of the engines all around her as she lifted the vehicle off the landing platforms and headed out into the sky and watching all the details of the Hive become so small. That really put a smile on her face.

When the group reconvened at their HQ, Marcella's brow furrowed in concern over the state of their Interrogator. She knew it would be unwise to undermine or question him before the others, but she wanted to check his vitals at the sheer state of him; disheveled, exhausted, clearly running on the fumes of caffeine and stimulants. Immediately, Drimmle's exhausted, sleep deprived image returned to the Psykers memory, and how  that  had turned out.

Pursing her lips,  "it seems we have three avenues, Sir,"  Marcella spoke, her voice soft as always, posture correct, wearing her trim uniform,  "investigating and trapping the PDF Sergeant facilitating the weapon smuggling threshold between the Underhive and the Midhive. Mapping and investigating the contraband drop off points in the wastes, from Casimires transports. And, finally, Casimire himself, via Acolyte Orla's ahem, prospective employment,"  she smiled a little at the last part.
rax
 "There are two more matters which may be of interest. One is to follow up on the conflict between House Durchesse and Lord Vistick, the other is to follow up on the rumour I uncovered that the General suspects Durchesse of dealing with xenos. It may be possible to drive a wedge between the General and Lord Durchesse if we could provide definitive proof, and we may find an ally of convenience in Lord Vistick if we could provide evidence of wrongdoing which he could use to gain an advantage over Lord Durchesse,"  Hound adds.

 "By the way, are you well, Interrogator? You are showing superficial symptoms which could indicate illness,"  he notes.
Haval
Orla had spent some time alone over the past week. Next time she had to gamble she would like to be better prepared and so she has been seeking out places where she could get a little practice in. Given her deal with Casimire she is very careful to check to see if anyone seems to be following her and to avoid spending too much time in the same bars. Under the circumstances she didn't think she could be too careful.

To Marcella,  'Do you reckon me not showing up is an option then? I don't know if he trusted me but it's not like he tried to kill me or anything.'  After Hound mentioned Ezekial's condition,  'Yeah, do you need a medicae or something?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella swiveled her eyes about to look at Orla and lean in slightly at her question.

 "I won't presume what our next course of action is: but having you inside the Rogue Traders operation and with access to Casimire could be a significant boon. From the way things look, we're at least going to arrest him in the future." 
Bennosuke
The Interrogator listens with the same perturbed expression on his face. The conversation neither seems to stir greater irritation, nor alleviate his concerns. As the group discuss their options he says flatly as his eye twitches, " It would certainly be possible to split up and pursue multiple avenues, would it not? Though of course we should be careful not to spread ourselves too thin. "

Hound's question causes the man to raise an eyebrow, a small smirk replacing his prior grimace. " I'm fine, " Ezekiel replies confidently, though the roughness of his voice bellies otherwise, waving a hand, " it is no infection and truly none of your concern. I would like to keep this focused on our task. "

(OOC: Trying to leave things open ended so the group can decide what they want to do. And I'm assuming Hound meant Interrogator and not Inquisitor, but let me know if you want to keep that in)
rax
(OOC: Yep, just OOC forgetfulness making me give him the wrong job title. I'll edit the post.)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella kept a passive face, though internally she was  deeply  worried. She was going to talk to the Interrogator in private, she determined. She also picked up on his earlier hint, that the 'The Inquisitor has told me I need to do a better job of collaborating'. From the sounds of it, the two had come to blows over strategy, and now Ezekiel was working himself raw trying to make up for it.

 "Hound,"  Marcella's soft voice came up,  "which of the presented leads do you think would yield the most value if pursued? We could stay together and pursue one, or maybe split and follow two; but no more than that, I think." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Interrogator listens with the same perturbed expression on his face. The conversation neither seems to stir greater irritation, nor alleviate his concerns. As the group discuss their options he says flatly as his eye twitches, " It would certainly be possible to split up and pursue multiple avenues, would it not? Though of course we should be careful not to spread ourselves too thin. " 
 

Orla nods at Marcella's response but looks a little worried. After the Interrogator speaks,  'Well yeah, ideally I'd like to have someone to watch my back at the meeting, even if it's just Marcella doing her thing from a distance.' 

She noted the Interrogator avoiding the issue but wasn't sure what she could do about it.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "Hound,"  Marcella's soft voice came up,  "which of the presented leads do you think would yield the most value if pursued? We could stay together and pursue one, or maybe split and follow two; but no more than that, I think."  
 

  "Infiltrating Casmirre's organisation is a high risk strategy, but likely also presents our best option to uncover direct evidence of Durchesse's heresy,"  Hound replies.  "A successful infiltration may also enable Orla to learn about the drop sites without requiring us to conduct an active investigation with our limited resources." 
 "Investigating and perhaps turning the sergeant should provide further evidence of how the artifacts are being moved, but is unlikely to provide information that could directly implicate Lord Durchesse. It will most likely lead to more middlemen,"  he notes.  "However, having a complete picture of the movement of the artifacts will still be useful in the long run and could open up further avenues of investigation." 
 "If we wish to increase the pace of the investigation, I recommend we focus our efforts on Casmirre. If we wish to keep working from the bottom up, we should prioritize the sergeant. However, since only Orla currently has the option of entering Casmirre's service, choosing that path will not immediately occupy all of us, so initially there is room to also work on the sergeant,"  he concludes.  "The greatest risk in such a scenario is that our efforts in one direction may alert the other target that something is amiss." 
Haval
 'Ok then. Frankly I haven't infiltrated anyone before. Making it up as you go along is all very well but is there anything I can do to prepare here? Aren't you lot the professionals?'  Orla looks around at everyone in the room to see if anyone had any advice.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella listened quietly as Hound gave advice, what he was saying making sense to the Psyker.

 "Where should I go?"  she asked, almost rhetorically.

 "Should I be wingwoman for Acolyte Orla, or would you rather me with Arl when confronting the sergeant?" 

The Psyker then paused and visibly thought,  "...perhaps Casimire needs another ships doctor, one who is familiar with cybernetics and doesn't have Adeptus Mechanicus, ahem, "licensed" physicians?" 
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
  'Ok then. Frankly I haven't infiltrated anyone before. Making it up as you go along is all very well but is there anything I can do to prepare here? Aren't you lot the professionals?'  Orla looks around at everyone in the room to see if anyone had any advice. 
 

  "Field studies show that the chance of a successful infiltration increases exponentially if the infiltrator has a cogent and relevant cover story and/or identity. You have already introduced yourself and laid claim to various skills and competences. Your cover story should therefore take these into account, while being as easy as possible to remember and being able to stand up to a background check." 
 "If Casmirre receives you into his service, you must then make yourself as useful as possible and carry out his assignments well enough to gain his trust. It is likely that only then will there be a chance of getting hold of truly incriminating evidence. In fact, if Casmirre is too generous in allowing you to move about freely, there is a strong likelihood that you are being watched in order to gauge your true intentions. Therefore, we must in any case set up a system of communication so that you can send reports and call for assistance in an emergency." 
 "Of course, there's always the possibility that the job he wants you to do is a trap, or that he will attempt to dispose of you afterwards in order to cover his tracks,"  Hound adds.


 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
 Marcella listened quietly as Hound gave advice, what he was saying making sense to the Psyker.

 "Where should I go?"  she asked, almost rhetorically.

 "Should I be wingwoman for Acolyte Orla, or would you rather me with Arl when confronting the sergeant?" 

The Psyker then paused and visibly thought,  "...perhaps Casimire needs another ships doctor, one who is familiar with cybernetics and doesn't have Adeptus Mechanicus, ahem, "licensed" physicians?"  
 

  "My face is known to Casmirre and I have stated that I am in the service of "Master Jarkov". Reappearing in Orla's company at short notice is therefore inadvisable. You, however, are unknown, and your talents should help us maintain contact." 
 "I therefore suggest that you accompany Orla, while I will assist Arl in dealing with the sergeant." 
Bennosuke
Ezekiel speaks up gruffly here, " The Rogue Trader was considering offering Orla work, right? Won't it be odd if she shows up with a friend? " He motions to Arl and Marcella, " The soldier's good at sticking to the shadows, right? Maybe either Arl or Marcella should go and provide backup from cover, since they won't expect her to have company. Unless you can think of a really good cover story. "
Haval
Orla considers Marcella's last point,  'Maybe he'd be ok with that, but it'd look weird if I just brought you along. I'd have to check if he has a guy on his ship for medicae stuff already.' 

To Hound,  'Assignments? Hadn't thought that far ahead. How much leeway does that give me? You know if I have to do the sort of thing that normally might get me in trouble with the Enforcers?'  She'll look to Ezekial over that last part.

On the possibility that it was a trap.  'Well that's what the backup is for. Maybe he's the sort of person who might be expecting the Inquisition to take an interest but I don't know if he'd be expecting the likes of me to be part of them.'  
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Ezekiel speaks up gruffly here, " The Rogue Trader was considering offering Orla work, right? Won't it be odd if she shows up with a friend? " He motions to Arl and Marcella, " The soldier's good at sticking to the shadows, right? Maybe either Arl or Marcella should go and provide backup from cover, since they won't expect her to have company. Unless you can think of a really good cover story. " 
 



Marcella pursed her lips, in a soft " hmm..."  thought, also considering what Orla had just said.

 "It would be tricky. He might not like you gossiping to your friends about your new job and bringing along strays looking for work... but , if he does take you in, you won't stay at the meeting place; you'll likely get taken to his ship or some local ground extension to meet your new job. Unless he takes me along too, then you'd really be on your own, with no back up. If you're uncovered, they'll torture you for long enough that our entire investigation would be compromised."
 
The psyker thinks for a few more moments before continuing.

 "I'm fluent in Voidborn dialect; I have a pilots license, a medical license and am operating my own clinic, often seeing patients who cannot afford the Adeptus Mechanicus to tend to their cybernetics, and I'm an expert in chemicals. My available records don't state I'm in the Scholastia Psykana, or the Inquisiton, hehe,"  Marcella couldn't help but bring her palm up to her mouth and giggle gently,  "my sanctioning brand is an electoo, so it's only visible when I want it to be. Any of that something to work with? We don't have to lie to him, just spin half-truths into a believable story." 
Wyndeward
Arl had spent the intervening week cleaning his weapons and pondering how to subvert this Sergeant Flaviana.  Arl sincerely doubted that the tactics he had used against Kant would be of much use this time... One seldom advanced in the Enforcers by being a soft touch, leastwise not if they weren't the idiot offspring of some noble or wealthy spire-merchant.  However, what she did for Durchesse, she might be inclined to do for someone else.  You just needed to use the proper bait to attract the predator, not letting it know it was prey until the trap closed.

Arl began writing down his ideas on a large bit of foolscap.  He would need more information on the Sergeant as a matter of course -- her file as a minimum.

Time to put out some feelers.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
  Act II Scene V 
" Suffer not the unclean to live... "

About a week later, The Interrogator calls the acolytes into his new study. Though the room is decorated as sumptuously as ever, Ezekiel appears almost strung out. Dark bags hang under his cold blue eyes, and a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, causing the smallest of his dark brown hair to mat to the skin. The room is warm, and though the Interrogator has not been so bold as to remove his coat, he has undone the buttons of his white undershirt to expose some of his hairless chest.

" Thank you for coming in, " he says with a grimace once everyone has arrived, " we've come a long way, but I'm afraid we still have a lot of work ahead of us, and it's only going to get a lot more dangerous. " Stooped over a pile of scrolls at his desk, Interrogator Ezekiel reaches for a crystal goblet of amsec, the movement almost reflexive, but he does not lift the glass and bring it to his lips. Instead he sighs and continues, " I have some thoughts on our next move... how to get more so that we can start drawing the noose around Lorde Durchesse's neck. But, The Inquisitor has told me I need to do a better job of collaborating. So, what does the team suggest? " Ezekiel studies the group for a long moment, the hand around the glass almost trembling. Despite himself, he lifts the glass to his lips, and takes a sip of the amber colored liquid. 
 

Arl kept his face impassive, but was worried.  The Interrogator did not seem well at all, which did not bode well, but just as rank had its privileges, it had its burdens as well.

" Interrogator, with whom should we be collaborating?  The local Enforcers seem to be at least partially in Durchesse's pocket, although that might be used to our advantage.
 The Credit Guild seems to be in on the game, or representatives thereof were expected by Boss Half-Face.  I have some thoughts on how to start working up the chain of corruption in the Enforcers, but that does little to ensnare Durchesse -- all he needs to muddy the waters would be to cut out a link in the chain between himself and the Underhive. "
Bennosuke
 Orla considers Marcella's last point, 'Maybe he'd be ok with that, but it'd look weird if I just brought you along. I'd have to check if he has a guy on his ship for medicae stuff already.'

To Hound, 'Assignments? Hadn't thought that far ahead. How much leeway does that give me? You know if I have to do the sort of thing that normally might get me in trouble with the Enforcers?' She'll look to Ezekial over that last part. 

The Interrogator sighs. Speaking in a slow, almost pedantic voice, he replies, " I would suggest he goal will be to get as much information as possible, while avoiding being fully conscripted onto the Rogue Trader's ship. While I would like to play the long game here, I don't think we can afford for you to go halfway across the Milky Way in the name of keeping cover. But, if you have to do something... unsavory to gain Casmirre's trust, we can make sure to keep you covered. "


 Interrogator, with whom should we be collaborating? The local Enforcers seem to be at least partially in Durchesse's pocket, although that might be used to our advantage.
The Credit Guild seems to be in on the game, or representatives thereof were expected by Boss Half-Face. I have some thoughts on how to start working up the chain of corruption in the Enforcers, but that does little to ensnare Durchesse -- all he needs to muddy the waters would be to cut out a link in the chain between himself and the Underhive." 

The Rogue Trader raises an eyebrow at this, his lower lid twitching with either fatigue or annoyance. " I meant that  I  was supposed to do a better job at collaborating with my colleagues, i.e.  you . " He waves a hand toward Arl and sighs.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella remained quiet as the Interrogator spoke further, or altered their idea of what Orla's task would entail. The Psyker was sweetly innocent enough that the innuendo of 'unsavoury' methods flew over her head, as her eyes drifted between Ezikiel and the Hive ganger. Having detailed the several ways she could be helpful, Marcella decided to let Orla determine how best to approach it.
Haval
Orla nods at the Interogator's contribution. If she was going anywhere off planet she didn't want to do it with Casmire. And it was nice to think that she might avoid being blamed for anything she might get into trouble over.

To Marc,  'I think if he wants to take me up to his ship it's because he suspects something and he's doing it by force. Otherwise I'd say he wants me for someone who knows the Underhive. If this was real maybe I'd be joining his crew if I was useful enough once he's finished his business here.'  Obviously the possibility of being discovered bothered her as well but she would like to believe that she stood out less then the others if she was to even consider this.  'Believe it or not I have been around people who might want to kill me if I say the wrong thing. The trick is knowing when to leave.' 

On Marc's qualifications,  'Or there's the whole psyker thing. He seems like the sort who might be interested. But I don't think that's the sort of thing I can decide for someone else. At the very least I think I'd have to prove myself useful first to bring someone else in officially.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc listened quietly to the Hive ganger explain the possibilities, but at one the Psyker pursed her lips and shook her head firmly.

 "All Psykers on a planet are always accounted for. Even the rumor of a rogue in the Underhive will prompt at least an investigation, and Casimire could either acquire a reward for handing one in or kill me to avoid risking association. A rogue, unsanctioned Psyker can doom an entire planet to a daemonic invasion through the warp,"  Marc shook her head again.

  'Hmmm...'   she purred softly, her lips pursed in thought.

 "This is tricky...because I can't just be 'nearby'; it's likely Casimire will relocate with you somewhere else, either a job site or with a crew he wants you working with in the underhive, maybe even helping smuggling those weapons in, via transport of some variety, and then you're lost to me and you're on your own.

But if I'm to be with you there, I need a compelling reason to be of interest to him." 

Thinking again, she perked an eyebrow.

 "What if...I've been taken in by your gang. I'm a voidborn who ended up in the mid-hive and had to flee because of dubious ethics got me in trouble, I ran away into the underhive where your gang took me in in exchange for patching gang-members up, but I want to get off-world and back onto a ship, and you suggested he could find work for me on his vessel if I proved myself because work in the Underhive can be dangerous?"  the Psyker offered with a shrug.

 "If we can't think of something; I might be better off helping the boys out with the Sergeant?"  Marcella added, her tone apologetic that she couldn't think of an air-tight means of helping Orla on her task.
rax
 "Didn't you just say that your sanctioning brand could be concealed and that there are no records indicating that you are a member of the Scholastica Psykana? Short of announcing yourself as a psyker, why would Casmirre or - more likely - whatever representative he sends to meet with Orla suspect you of being a psyker?"  Hound asks Marcella.

 "Not to mention that you would be serving as backup and thus keeping your distance at any meeting. Should you be discovered at that time, I suspect Casmirre will be more pleased than aggravated to find out that his prospective employee is wise enough to guard against a double cross,"  he adds with a look at Orla and Ezekiel.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc blinked, her lips parting with an apologetic tone,  "Oh, no, I thought Orla meant I present myself to Casimire as a rogue or unsanctioned psyker in the hope he'd want to extend a job offer. Apologies,"  she smiled brightly, bringing both her index finger tips close together and circling each other,  "wires got crossed, hehe"  she giggled.
Haval
Orla looks amused. To Marcella,  'No you were right the first time. I feel like it wouldn't be that hard to get a job with the right sort of people. There's probably a lot you could do with a psyker working for you.'  Orla assumed that must have occurred to Marcella at some point while working for the Inquisition.  'Of course, doing that may cause more problems then it solves. You're the expert.' 

Marcella's story didn't seem entirely unreasonable,  'I guess it depends on how good you are at pretending to be muscle. And you can keep in contact with me at a distance can't you? I wouldn't even need a microbead. Sounds like it might be handy.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "Ohh, I can stay in contact with you...where ever you are!"  Marcella wore that bright smile again.

 "But if I'm hiding in the bushes watching from afar, and you hop into a transport to go somewhere else...well there's not much I can do to help you, hehe, best I can do is wave,"  she brought up her palm to cover her mouth as she giggled again.

 "Maybe that works; shady doctor who had to flee the Mid-hive, your gang took me in in exchange for treating your leader, which is true enough, I heard about your new job possibility, and I wanted the chance to get in on the crew too, because I want to get off-world. Rogue Trader ships have crews into the tens of thousands, another doctor could always help?" 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
    Marcella 
 "Ohh, I can stay in contact with you...where ever you are!"  Marcella wore that bright smile again.

 "But if I'm hiding in the bushes watching from afar, and you hop into a transport to go somewhere else...well there's not much I can do to help you, hehe, best I can do is wave,"  she brought up her palm to cover her mouth as she giggled again.

 "Maybe that works; shady doctor who had to flee the Mid-hive, your gang took me in in exchange for treating your leader, which is true enough, I heard about your new job possibility, and I wanted the chance to get in on the crew too, because I want to get off-world. Rogue Trader ships have crews into the tens of thousands, another doctor could always help?"  
 

 'How's your driving? How easy would it be to get a groundcar?' 

On Marcella's suggested story,  'Works for me. It's mostly the truth isn't it. It still means I'd have to look for opportunities to bring someone else in, but that would be true for Arl as well.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


At the question of how her 'driving' was, Marcella pursed her lips. Then she blushed. Then she shook her head bashfully.

 "I can fly any civilian aircraft, but I can't drive a car,"  she answered, her tone indicative of how silly her statement sounded now that she heard it out-loud.

 "Well, seems like we have a cover story...hopefully Casimire buys it! If he turns me away, I'll improvise and find some way to catch up with you. If the stool really hits the fan and he starts shooting, we'll apprehend him and bring him in for interrogation. That's assuming he meets us himself and doesn't just send a representative.

I think that about covers it?"  Marcella smiled happily.
rax
 "Then it seems our paths are just about set. Arl, what is your plan concerning this rogue sergeant and in what way can I be of assistance?"  Hound asks.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by BananaPhone 
  "I can fly any civilian aircraft, but I can't drive a car,"  she answered, her tone indicative of how silly her statement sounded now that she heard it out-loud. 
 

Orla shrugs,  'Well it's not like anyone showed me how.'  There wasn't a huge need for groundcars in the Underhive.  'Just remember that you don't need to be good at it. You just have to go slow enough that you don't bump into anything.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trader raises an eyebrow at this, his lower lid twitching with either fatigue or annoyance. " I meant that  I  was supposed to do a better job at collaborating with my colleagues, i.e.  you . " He waves a hand toward Arl and sighs. 
 

Arl suppressed the urge to quirk an eyebrow at this statement.

" I am in need of another Enforcer personnel file, one for a Sergeant Flaviana.  She is the next link the chain between the Midhive and Boss Half Face.  I would also benefit from your experience -- I expect she will be a hard nut to crack than Officer Kant. "
Bennosuke
The Interrogator raises an eyebrow at Arl. " Are you hoping for my assistance for this, or are you simply stating your next endeavor, as you  colleague  had asked? " His eyes drift back to Hound.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Interrogator raises an eyebrow at Arl. " Are you hoping for my assistance for this, or are you simply stating your next endeavor, as you  colleague  had asked? " His eyes drift back to Hound. 
 

Arl paused for a moment, then spoke.

" I expect I will need your assistance with obtaining the sergeant's file, sir... and perhaps more.  I expect that, unlike Officer Kant, she will have less guilt over her role in matters, being further away from the actual criminal acts. "
Haval
 'You know the building this Enforcer works out of?'  Orla speaks up.  'If you can't find anything out any other way, that sort sometimes have a reputation with the people they like to arrest.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Basically offering to roll Inquiry by talking to some criminals if it helps. Assuming Orla has the time of course.
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella listened quietly to the side. Having already spoken plenty when discussing her branch of the next operation, she decided to not butt in. Instead, she listened.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl paused for a moment, then spoke.

" I expect I will need your assistance with obtaining the sergeant's file, sir... and perhaps more.  I expect that, unlike Officer Kant, she will have less guilt over her role in matters, being further away from the actual criminal acts. " 
 

  "If the file can be retrieved, I may be of some assistance in analyzing the contents, but I'm afraid I will be of little use in actually acquiring said file unless it's held in some form of data stack,"  Hound notes.
Bennosuke
" Very well, " Ezekiel says with an annoyed scowl directed at Arl, " I can try to get working on that... though it will likely take at least a day or two. And in the interim, you will be... " His voices rises at the end, implying that the Interrogator was waiting for the Feral Worlder to help finish the sentence.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Very well, " Ezekiel says with an annoyed scowl directed at Arl, " I can try to get working on that... though it will likely take at least a day or two. And in the interim, you will be... " His voices rises at the end, implying that the Interrogator was waiting for the Feral Worlder to help finish the sentence. 
 

Arl paused for a moment and then replied.

" I will work my contacts in the underworld and see what information I can find on my own.  I have an idea -- perhaps Sergeant Flaviana could be compromised and bent to our advantage.  If she is willing to assist in smuggling goods between the tiers for one criminal organization, if given the opportunity, she will sell herself to another organization.  A false flag operation that might be enough to flip her... "
Bennosuke
" Your contracts in the Underworld, " the Interrogator asks dubiously, adding, " I see ". He turns to Hound and asks, " Will you be helping Arl with this? "
rax
 "That seems to be the most expedient course of action, yes,"  Hound answers the Interrogator.
Bennosuke
The Interrogator smirks. " Well then, " he says, clasping his hands together with finality, " I suggest we get to it... unless there is anything else you wish to discuss. " Ezekiel gazes across the group gathered acolytes, waiting patiently.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella stood quiet and alert, her own eyes tracking back and forth across the group to see if anyone else had anything to offer.

Deep down, she wanted to comment on the Interrogators visible exhaustion and possible stim use...buuut, by the same token: perhaps he was just temporarily overworked. A few nights of good sleep and reduction in duties would triumph where her medical nagging may only drive him deeper into the arms of fatigue.

So, she would hold her tongue for now.

 "Not from me, Sir,"  Marcella answered, her mind shifting gears to what she'd wear for the meeting with Casimire. She'd also have to borrow Hounds med-kit, at least, she thought to herself. She had to dress the part to be the part.

Naturally, she would have to consult with Orla about it.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Interrogator smirks. " Well then, " he says, clasping his hands together with finality, " I suggest we get to it... unless there is anything else you wish to discuss. " Ezekiel gazes across the group gathered acolytes, waiting patiently. 
 

 'Not unless Arl wants to talk about his Underworld contracts.'  Orla has been looking at the man with interest since he brought that up.  'I'm assuming that if all goes well I'm going to be busy.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Your contracts in the Underworld, " the Interrogator asks dubiously, adding, " I see ". He turns to Hound and asks, " Will you be helping Arl with this? " 
 

Arl looks deceptively mild at the Interrogator's comment for a moment, then smiles a smile that doesn't touch his eyes.

" I would remind you, Interrogator, that you wanted evidence, although I am not entirely certain why.  However, it is not my job to ponder the imponderables, but to produce results.  We have obtained the next link in the chain between Half-Face and the Rogue Trader, along with the Rogue Trader's flight information, all through connections involving the local criminal fraternity.  If you have a better suggestion for how I should spend my time, I humbly request you share it with me.  The burden of leadership involves leading and guiding those you are charged to lead. "
Bennosuke
Something about Arl's tone and response draws a mirthful smile from The Interrogator. He eyes Arl for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. " It sounds like a plan, " Ezekiel replies, still grinning, " I look forward to your results. " He blinks for a moment, the gesture almost looking like a suppressed wink.

He looks over the others, then claps his hands again and says, " Very well then, off with the lot of you. "

(OOC: Unless anyone has anything else they want to discuss, let's move things on! Please everyone post what their character is doing next, and how they are going out. As always remember that context will effect how reasonable it is to go out armed and armored to the gills.)
Haval
 Later 

Orla had told Casmire to leave word for her at a particular pilgrimage hostel so she intends to go there in person to check to see if he's left her any messages. Other then the hand cannon and knife that she wears under her coat she's not visibly armed. Generally it was much easier to see trouble coming and avoid it then have to fight anyone. She will not be taking the direct route to the hostel because she really wants to make it harder for anyone to follow her back to the Inquisition's hideout. If she was Casmire, she might want to check out a potential employee, so there was every chance that someone might be watching.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Up to Banana if Marcella is coming with Orla

Paranoid Awareness test vs. Per 39 (Awareness +20)
 (1d100)[ 50 ] 
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


When Marcella had emerged from her quarters to accompany Orla on her little outing, the Psyker was... different . Where before she had been herself, typically dressed neatly, with her blonde hair braided and youthful face bright in its typically sunny, if awkward disposition. Now her mane had been dyed a platinum hue, borderline sleek grey, and was straightened and styled to frame the girls still-young looking face that wore her friendly smile. However, upon her large, warm brown eyes sat a big pair of reading glasses that accentuated the trim, dark ladies suit the Psyker was wearing, the collar open and her neck framed by the white cloth of her neatly ironed shirt beneath.

 "I am ready to go!"  she announced brightly in Orla's direction, her expression clearly awaiting some type of reaction from the ganger.

Whether one would arrive in time or not, Marcella would grin wider and reach up to take her glasses off,  "it's me!"  she announced before giggling into her free palm. Who knew whether she earnestly believed Orla could recognize her or not.

 "See? Doctor Dominica..."  she put the glasses back on so she could receive the distinguished appearance the spectacles granted her otherwise youthful features.

Then she took them off again,  "just plain ol' Marcella!"  she beamed a happy grin, before giggling again.

 "I don't really need them,"  she put the glasses back on,  "but I wear them at my clinic, because who's going to trust this face,"  she took them off again, her 20-year old image now fully on display,  "to tell them about the deficiencies of mechanical grafting and integration short-comings between circuitry and the dendrites in their nervous system? Hehe!" 
 "But I put these on..."  and Marcella donned the glasses once more,  "and suddenly people think I know what I'm talking about - hehehe! I mean...I do! But now they  think  I do too! I look learned!" 

The Psyker giggled a little further, before adjusting her neat, ladies suit a touch more before rolling her shoulders and nodding.

 "Let me go and get the med-kit off of Hound, then I'll come join you!"  she said happily, humming to herself as she trotted off to find the Adept and receive his medical wares on lease.

OOC:
 
 Spoiler 
Yes, Marcella would happily come along with Orla :). Assuming that's where Bennosuke's next post can start off.

Marcella will be carrying no visible weapons on her, just a med-kit she's borrowing from Hound.
 
Haval
Orla doesn't usually have a reason to chuckle but at the sight of Marcella's enthusiasm she looks like she almost wants to.  'Those glasses are powerful stuff. This is how you got a job with the Inquisition isn't it? The psyker thing was just a bonus.'  She'll gesture to her own clothes as she's gone back to looking shabby.  'Now I feel under dressed. If anyone asks, maybe I'm your bodyguard.' 
Wyndeward
Arl dressed himself conservatively, preferring to maintain his appearance as a Credit Guild auditor, keeping a stub automatic on his right hip and his hand cannon at the small of his back, concealed by his Credit Guild cloak.

His target was a "recreational center" near Officer Kant's beat, hopefully where Sergeant Flaviana was known.  With nothing but time to kill until the actual files were available, he might as well see which he could find out on his own.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Haval 
 Orla doesn't usually have a reason to chuckle but at the sight of Marcella's enthusiasm she looks like she almost wants to.  'Those glasses are powerful stuff. This is how you got a job with the Inquisition isn't it? The psyker thing was just a bonus.'  She'll gesture to her own clothes as she's gone back to looking shabby.  'Now I feel under dressed. If anyone asks, maybe I'm your bodyguard.'  
 


When Marcella returned, she showed good humor for Orla's quip, wearing her bright smile as always, now that they were out of the exhausted scrutiny of the Interrogator.

 "I make wonderful cups of coffee!"  she smiled in jest, before looking the ganger up and down in regards to her clothes.
 
"Your attire does appear to be in a state of dishabille..."  

But Marcella shrugged.

 "You're blending in! And I...if you remember our little story: I have investigators sniffing around my clinic because I'm...legally and morally flexible...I have worked with your gang a few times to patch some members up...and now I've heard of the possibility of getting a job off world with a Rogue Trader, which suits me just fine!" 

The Psyker held both her fists in front of her, thumbs extended in a pair of little thumbs-up encouragement gestures.

 "Plan A is to ingratiate ourselves. Plan B he tells me to bugger off, so I keep my distance and trail you. Plan C, he starts shooting, in which case we arrest him and bring him in. Yeah?"  she iterated her proposed plan.

 "Let's get moving - go team!"  
Bennosuke
Orla and Marcella have arrived early to Saint Asceline's Hostel for Pilgrims, a rundown narrow tower with crumbling façade located in the lower midhive. The hostel is not far from The Commissar's Tavern, where the acolytes had first met Orla. It's late morning and the hostel's lobby (a starkly lit room with checkered tile and a small check in desk), is relatively bustling. Folding tables and chairs have been set up, where groups of weary pilgrims have huddled to eat a free meal of some form of gruel. The lobby is filled with the smell of unwashed bodies, the acidic burn of a strong chemical disinfectant, and the soapy aroma bubbling from the cauldrons of the complimentary breakfast. The place is nice enough to have electric lights rather than candles, but the bulbs clearly need changing as the overheads flicker on and off at a fashion that might induce a twisting fit in someone. Pilgrims seem able to come and go from the hostel as they please, and no one seems to really notice Orla or Marcella as they walk in. That said, the room is busy enough that it is hard to pick out a familiar face, and the bouquet of aromas makes it all the harder to concentrate.

(OOC: Orla already rolled awareness, let's please do the same for Marcella. Also you both described what can be seen on your character, but please clarify if there is any equipment that you are keeping concealed and please roll for concealment)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella followed along with Orla, her lady's suit pressed and neat, her hair styled and poise clearly that of someone from the educated classes, as could be deduced by the med-kit suitcase she carried.

Humming softly to herself and looking around, Marc trusted the instincts and direction of Orla. Afterall, this was her rodeo. Much like Arls lead, Marc was here to help.
Haval
 Earlier 

Orla had not entirely taken the idea of Marcella's cover story seriously until now.  'Ok then, but if you knew me before it means you and me would have to go back a while. Technically I was at the party as private security for the boss. I didn't exactly tell Casmire that but I imagine he must have looked into it. Maybe pretending to be that'll come in handy at some point.'  Being prepared to lie consistently with another person involved was hard work.  'But you do this medicae thing on the side don't you? It shouldn't be that hard to claim I've used you to help fix gunshot wounds and the like.'  Orla grins at a sudden thought,  'Maybe you could be my dealer?' 
 Saint Asceline's Hostel for Pilgrims 

Orla habitually watches for anyone who might be paying too close attention to her, whatever the reason might be. In her experience, even among the devout, there was every chance that there would be someone here who would the view two women as a someone they could rob later. She's a little more on edge then should be normally because Marcella is here and looked like the sort of person who might be worth robbing. Obviously Marcella was far more dangerous then anyone else in the room, but this was hardly something that she wanted revealed if she could avoid it.

Orla has been here before more then once so unless anyone interrupts her she'll go looking for a clerk to see if anyone had left her any messages.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Gun and knife are worn under her coat.

Concealment was replaced with Stealth I think

The Hand Cannon
vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
 (1d100)[ 66 ] 

The Knife
vs. Ag 44 (Stealth +10)
 (1d100)[ 21 ] 
 
rax
Hound followed Arl's lead, tossing his Credit Guild cape over his flak cloak, though he did pause to question Arl on whether the establishment they were going to would welcome Credit Guild auditors?

Under his cloak, he had his silenced stub automatic in a shoulder holster and his punch dagger in a sheath at the small of his back.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 Earlier 

Marcella smiled chirpily and nodded.

 "Okay! I've patched you and yours up a few times...and I did bring some meds to your leader that one time? It checks out!"  she confirmed, that smile remaining.


 Saint Asceline's Hostel for Pilgrims 


Marcella trusts Orla's instincts and where-withal as they move through the hostel, her own eyes sweeping the place more out of interest than actually looking for anything, or being alert for potential dangers.
Bennosuke
Arl and Hound, dressed in their Credit Guilder garb, wait till the afternoon then head to the neighborhood of Kant's office in the midhive. Favoring more reputable establishments, they march into the "St. Marvick's Public House", a tavern that at least doesn't reek of the cheapest tub alcohol.

The pub is busy, filled with prolls and adepts mostly drinking and having their evening meal. Many sit alone or at the bar, while some small groups huddle together at bench style tables. The din of customers is partly drowned out by a recording of prayers of fortitude, droning from speakers posted throughout the hall. Many of the patrons are at least not filthy and unwashed, but still the arrival of a pair of Credit Guilders seems quickly to draw the attention of the room.

The two are greeted near the door by a burly man in apron and grey coveralls. He eyes the new guests with suspicion, and hesitantly says, " Are you two here for dinner, or is this some kind of inspection? " His voice is high and thin and almost girlish, despite his broad shoulders and scraggly beard.

**************************************************  ***********

(OOC: Still never got any reply on concealment from Marcella)

As the two are busy studying the busy room, a voice startles them. " Orla? Is there a reason you've brought a friend? " the voice asks, jovially despite the accusation. Coming from behind, the two are forced to turn to see the woman who is addressing them. A weathered burlap cloak covers her tall form, but you can tell that she is at least athletic, if not armored, based on how the robe bulges. The has short red hair, and purple painted lips, pulled up in a cocksure grin. Her arms seem to be crossed under her cloak, as she studies the two. The woman clearly clocks Orla's pistol under her belt, but says nothing.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Orla? Is there a reason you've brought a friend? " 
 

Orla will turn towards the woman,  'Hey, I'm allowed to have friends aren't I?'  She'll smile at the other woman in apparent unconcern. She was probably armed under that cloak but Orla was fairly confident that it wasn't going to matter here.  'But if you must know, I'm helping her out with some things today.' 
 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Just to check. Does Orla know this woman?
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella turned about to behold the woman, her demeanour friendly and non-threatening.

Once Orla had finished her piece, Marcella nodded politely,  "Good afternoon, ma'am, how do you do." 
Bennosuke
The woman clocks Marcella's arms under her clothes as well. To Orla, she replies, " I see..., " letting her voice trail to show how little she believes the underhive ganger. She eyes Marcella, studying the unexpected stranger, then to both she says with caution, " Well, then, I suppose we should have a seat to talk. I hope you already ate, because I wouldn't recommend the oat porridge. "

Orla is not familiar at all with this woman, though it doesn't take a local to know that she's not from  around here. 
Haval
 'Yeah, but it's cheap isn't it.'  From experience, lots of things were edible when you were hungry enough.  'You want to introduce yourself first?'  Orla is friendly but makes no move to sit down.  'Given that you know my name and all.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcla followed Orlas lead and remained standing. Letting the ganger take point with conversation, this was her show afterall, the Psyker watched and waited foe the right cues.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Arl and Hound, dressed in their Credit Guilder garb, wait till the afternoon then head to the neighborhood of Kant's office in the midhive. Favoring more reputable establishments, they march into the "St. Marvick's Public House", a tavern that at least doesn't reek of the cheapest tub alcohol.

The pub is busy, filled with prolls and adepts mostly drinking and having their evening meal. Many sit alone or at the bar, while some small groups huddle together at bench style tables. The din of customers is partly drowned out by a recording of prayers of fortitude, droning from speakers posted throughout the hall. Many of the patrons are at least not filthy and unwashed, but still the arrival of a pair of Credit Guilders seems quickly to draw the attention of the room.

The two are greeted near the door by a burly man in apron and grey coveralls. He eyes the new guests with suspicion, and hesitantly says, " Are you two here for dinner, or is this some kind of inspection? " His voice is high and thin and almost girlish, despite his broad shoulders and scraggly beard. 
 

Arl puts a rueful smile on his face and gives the public house and the bouncer a quick once over.

" Just in the neighborhood on work and in need of a meal.  It has been a long day and promises to be longer tomorrow.  What would you recommend? "
rax
Hound nods his agreement with Arl's explanation.
Bennosuke
The smile remains plastered on the woman's face, but she stands staring at Orla for a long moment before she replies. " You can call me Anetta, " she says flatly, still smiling. She glances from Oral to Marcella, then back, then says, " We have a table already, if you care to join. " Turning sharply on her heels, the woman begins to push into the swamp of tables and shuffling pilgrims, not bothering to look back and see if the two acolytes were following.

Off in one corner of the room are a group of three huddled men. As they approach, it takes the two a long moment to realize that the group at the table are watching them, and it takes Orla another moment to recognize the Rogue Trader, his hair covered in a wool skull cap, dressed in ragged moldering robes. The group at the table seem displeased at Marcella's presence, and the psyker can feel their eyes boring into her, as they draw near.

Placing her palms down on the table before the Rogue Trader, Anetta announces sourly, " She brought a friend. "

" I see that, " Casmirre replies gruffly. He turns his attention to Orl, not bothering to move over to make room and says, " Is there a reason you've brought a friend? "

**************************************************  ********

 Arl's response seems to put the man at slightly greater ease. " Well, " he says, as if mulling over the question, " We've got a roast, and we've got the meat pie of the day. And of course we have ale. " The burly man doesn't seem to bather with further detail about what he recommends. He eyes the two for another moment, before grumbling, " Why don't you two have yourselves a seat then, and I'll be over shortly. "

As the two begin to navigate their way into the tavern they soon catch sight of a trio of officers, who appear to be off duty based on their degree of "levity", though they are still in uniform.
Haval
Orla will follow Anetta to the table without complaint.

 Oh ****.  She'll do her best not to look too surprised.  'Well I admit I wasn't expecting to see you here today.'  Normally she might be more respectful but it seemed like Casmire was here incognito.  'You seem like you'd have better things to do then to eat in a place like this.'  She'll glance briefly at the two men sitting with the Rogue Trader to see if anything stands out.

Orla will gesture to Marcella,  'This is my Doctor. She's in need of money at short notice and managed to get work out that I might have a job lined up. She doesn't know who you are exactly just that you might be the sort of person who can pay her well if you like her work. I feel like I owe her too much to just tell her to piss off you know. She's a useful woman to know.'  Obviously the problem here was the implication that Orla had talked about the Rogue Trader behind his back, but that was unavoidable if she was going to try to involve Marcella at all. She'd just have to try and see how he took it.

 
 Spoiler: ooc 

Scrutiny to see if anything stands out about the other two guys
vs. Per 39
 (1d100)[ 89 ] 

Deceive
vs. Fel 41 (Deceive +10)
 (1d100)[ 48 ] 
 Spending a fate point to reroll if this doesn't work
 (1d100)[ 35 ]  
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " You can call me Anetta, " she says flatly. 
 


Marcella nodded gently, her smile remaining.

 "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms Anetta." 

The Psyker followed both Orla and Anetta through the crowds of people, the scent of pilgrim worshipers mixing with the melted wax of candles and aroma's wafting out of the kitchen. Dressed as she was, Marcella stood out, particularly when she came to stand before the Rogue Trader himself whom had clearly donned a disguise to melt into the crowd.

This was cunning, she thought. Rogue Traders were known for their egos, pomp and ceremony. Upon their ships each was a king or queen in their own right, bedecked in luxury and projecting their dazzling wealth and power to ensure all those who knelt before them knew that no other could compare, and under whose authority they labored. So, it was curious to see Casimire casting that aside to cloak himself in the regalia of a peasant, so that he could slide in through the waves of humanity through which they cruised.

She then listened to Orla's introduction of her in response to Cassimire's visible distrust. When she had finished, Marcella offered a small smile and another polite little nod, " how do you do, Sir. Apologies for arriving announced, but as my companion mentioned, I am a medical practitioner seeking to expand her clientele list." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
  Arl's response seems to put the man at slightly greater ease. " Well, " he says, as if mulling over the question, " We've got a roast, and we've got the meat pie of the day. And of course we have ale. " The burly man doesn't seem to bather with further detail about what he recommends. He eyes the two for another moment, before grumbling, " Why don't you two have yourselves a seat then, and I'll be over shortly. "

As the two begin to navigate their way into the tavern they soon catch sight of a trio of officers, who appear to be off duty based on their degree of "levity", though they are still in uniform. 
 

Arl quickly scanned the seating arrangements, looking for the seats closest to the celebrating Enforcers.  Settling in, he continued to look about the establishment, noting anyone he noticed reacting to the officers' celebration, especially those demonstrating negative reactions (glaring, etc).  In a low tone, Arl spoke to the Hound.

" I know the Interrogator may scoff, but sometimes I suspect that "ordinary decent criminals" are one of the most unexploited resources in the Imperium. "
Bennosuke
The Rogue Trade can't help but grin as Orla says she hadn't expected to see him. " Isn't this where you told me to meet you, " he asks playfully. However his expression turns cold as Orla begins talking about Marcella. In reply to Orla he simply says, " I see..., " his voice trailing off with displeasure.

The Rogue Trader is wise enough to note that no one has said Marcella's name, and going with the understanding that he is allegedly anonymous, he says, " It is... nice to meet you doctor. " He does not bother to rise from his seat, or to shake Marcella's hand. Casmirre's eyes shift from Marcella, to Orla, then to one of the men at his table. He then slowly adds, " I apologize, as well, I am not sure I am in need of your services. " The grin returns to the Rogue Trader's face and he says playfully, " I happen to be in excellent health, despite what these rags may imply. I hope it was not an inconvenience for you to come all the way out here. "

Then he will say darkly, eyes on Orla, " Your friend and I will need to talk. "

**************************************************  *

As Arl and Hound take a seat, there isn't much noteworthy to study. Along with the group of enforcers behind them, there are several other tables with patrons, mostly minding their own business. However, in their bright robes, the two acolytes can feel eyes across the room studying them from time to time.

They certainly won't be able to do anything discretely while dressed as adepts of the Credit Guild.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella had a powerful willpower, beyond that of most people in the Imperium of Man, and right now that mental exertion was impressing itself upon her features to not bat an eye when the Rogue Trader Captain turned her away.

 "Sir, I ask you to consider, before you make your  final  decision, a more optimal course of action,"  Marcella's soft, gentle voice piped up in response to his polite dismissal.

 "Orla here has not told me one iota of her potential employment with yourself, nor of your nature, sir,"  she continued with that tender impression.

 "But I do know  her  line of work, as I have withdrawn several bullets from her image during the course of our association,"  she nodded,  "and, inferring from the trajectory of her profession that intersects with your current efforts to conceal your true nature, I speculate that you are in a potentially violent and incredibly dangerous occupation, sir,"  Marcella surmised.

 "If such is the case, medical assistance for either yourself, those around you,"  she gestured to Cassimire's entourage,  "or those that you employ,"  Marcella nodded sideways towards Orla,  "is like toilet paper, really, sir - it goes unnoticed until you  really  need it! And if it's out of reach...things get very messy!" 

Marcella couldn't help but giggle slightly, a blush rushing across her cheeks as she brought her spare hand up to cover her mouth to obfuscate her little titter, before returning to her side.

The Psyker allowed a pregnant pause to linger for a few moments.

 "...and in that scenario...it's better to have and not need, than need and not have, Sir." 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trade can't help but grin as Orla says she hadn't expected to see him. " Isn't this where you told me to meet you, " he asks playfully. However his expression turns cold as Orla begins talking about Marcella. In reply to Orla he simply says, " I see..., " his voice trailing off with displeasure.  
 

Orla had been expecting to be receiving a message here. Perhaps rich people heard what they wanted to hear. That was worrying but it wasn't like she wasn't aware what kind of man Casmire was already. She will refrain from disagreeing out loud.


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Then he will say darkly, eyes on Orla, " Your friend and I will need to talk. " 
 

She'll nod.  'No problem.'  The only positive was that it was unlikely that they would try anything in the middle of all these people. And of course that she was from the Underhive and so could likely help them with whatever they wanted her for. They needed her.

After Marcella had finished she'll add,  'She's pretty good. But more importantly is pretty good at not talking about things that don't need to be talked about.' 
Bennosuke
OOC: Can I get some sort of appropriate social/Fellowship roll from Marcella here. I could also see some sort of psychic power being useful here.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 " I know the Interrogator may scoff, but sometimes I suspect that "ordinary decent criminals" are one of the most unexploited resources in the Imperium. " 
 

 Hound appears to consider Arl's words carefully before replying.  "I disagree. Heresy and recidivism are legion. "Ordinary decent criminals" describes the majority of the Imperium, and there are few enough with a clear mind and conscience to hold the line. Exploiting "ordinary decent criminals" is an unavoidable fact of daily life, given their sheer numbers." 
 "However, it would seem we are the ones being watched here, rather than the other way round. We may have to reconsider our approach,"  he notes.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
 Hound appears to consider Arl's words carefully before replying.  "I disagree. Heresy and recidivism are legion. "Ordinary decent criminals" describes the majority of the Imperium, and there are few enough with a clear mind and conscience to hold the line. Exploiting "ordinary decent criminals" is an unavoidable fact of daily life, given their sheer numbers." 
 "However, it would seem we are the ones being watched here, rather than the other way round. We may have to reconsider our approach,"  he notes. 
 

Arl looks about and considers the Hound's words for a moment.

" I suspect you are probably correct, but I think we can turn our... novelty to our advantage.  As for "ordinary decent criminals, I take your point.  However, there are advantages to knowing people who will cross some boundaries and not others.  I am curious, however, as to our superior's motives and modus in this audit sometimes...  I mean, as they say "Innocence proves nothing." 
rax
 "You suspect Interrogator Ezekiel of sabotaging our investigation?"  Hound replies sharply.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "You suspect Interrogator Ezekiel of sabotaging our investigation?"  Hound replies sharply. 
 

Arl shook his head and sighed.

" No, I don't think that.  Something here doesn't makes sense to me.  It seems to me like there is something stranger than normal going on.  Ezekiel does not seem well, he has us collecting information when we know enough to start removing pieces off the board and wringing the necessary information out of them, rather than rattling cages to see what growls at the commotion. "
rax
 "Since the Interrogator is not volunteering any information concerning his health, we should take him at his word for now,"  Hound replies.  "And while it is true that we could "remove pieces off the board" as you say, from the rumours we picked up at the party, it seems our investigation has already rattled Lord Durchesse. Any more sudden deaths and disappearances, and he may conclude that his best option is to cover his tracks by burning his entire operation to the ground." 
 "By the way, do we know what the current target looks like?" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Since the Interrogator is not volunteering any information concerning his health, we should take him at his word for now,"  Hound replies.  "And while it is true that we could "remove pieces off the board" as you say, from the rumours we picked up at the party, it seems our investigation has already rattled Lord Durchesse. Any more sudden deaths and disappearances, and he may conclude that his best option is to cover his tracks by burning his entire operation to the ground." 
 "By the way, do we know what the current target looks like?"  
 

" Patience... it isn't as if they're wearing badges or rank insignia.  We may have to come back in mufti to get a better read on who bull grox are in this part of the Hive.

As for the other, we have the Rogue Trader's logs telling us where he's getting his goods, which if the Interrogator is to be believed, should be a cause for alarm.  We know who enough about who is abetting the movement of the goods in question into the Hive and in what they are getting paid.  We have a decent lead on who is being paid off to help move them up to the mid-Hive.  I worry that while we're beating the brush and looking at middlemen, some of the real prey is going to slip our grasp.  "
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 " I worry that while we're beating the brush and looking at middlemen, some of the real prey is going to slip our grasp.  " 
 

  "Perhaps, but this prey has very strong reasons not to run. Durchess is lord of a great house in this Hive, and their roots are strong and deep. It will take an almost unavoidable disaster for him to abandon his place here,"  Hound counters.

 "I believe that our taskmasters would prefer to catch Durchess with his hands on a figurative smoking gun. Otherwise the strength and pedigree of his house may yet serve to shield him from the Emperor's Justice." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Perhaps, but this prey has very strong reasons not to run. Durchess is lord of a great house in this Hive, and their roots are strong and deep. It will take an almost unavoidable disaster for him to abandon his place here,"  Hound counters.

 "I believe that our taskmasters would prefer to catch Durchess with his hands on a figurative smoking gun. Otherwise the strength and pedigree of his house may yet serve to shield him from the Emperor's Justice."  
 

Arl considers the Hound's words for a moment.

" Here is where I think things are off.  Ezekiel has us gathering evidence as if we were going to take this to a trial, where we have to meticulously demonstrate that Durchess has done what we claim he has done, listen to his counterarguments, and then counter those in turn.  We both know that this isn't how things work -- Ezekiel even scoffed when Marcella suggested such.  So, I am beginning to think a deeper game is going on than we have been led to believe.  Suppose this were simply about some decadent collector of heretical knickknacks. In that case, we'd have razed his estate, salted the earth behind us, muttered "Innocence proves nothing" if our searches came up empty in the aftermath of our actions, and moved on, probably sparing a moment or two to take care of his enablers while we were at it. "

Arl paused for a moment, then sighed.

" Perhaps my learning to read has me making things too complicated... "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

As Marcella spoke, her mind worked, unseen and undetectable to any who could not also touch the Warp, Marcellas mind extended an invisible, mental tendril forward and into the mind of Anette, Casimires right hand woman. Those psychic feelers burrowed into Annette psyche, holding her like a puppet without the woman even knowing it was happening.

Directly targeting the Rogue Trader himself was too risky. But his apparent number two? A good word from her could change his mind.

 "...I think you should give me a chance." 
Bennosuke
There is a quick moment where Anetta's eyes go blank, her mouth opening dumbly. The expression fades with a quick sucking in of breath, and a nod of the head. She turns to the Rogue Trader and says, " You never know. A second pair of hands in the medical bay can't hurt; at least not with  our upcoming plans . " She says the last bit in a way that unequivocally implies they are expecting danger on whatever their upcoming trip is.

Casmirre stares back for a long moment before turning to consider Marcella with hard cold eyes. " I suppose, " he says slowly, " though taking another stranger is just one more risk to take. " He raises a massive calloused hand and strokes at his unruly beard. He turns to Marcella and says, " And you are offering your services to us, knowing nothing about us, or what might be expected of you? You must be rather...  desperate.  " He says this as if he is attempting to read Marcella like a book written in a foreign language.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella felt the tiniest mote of a thrill slide up her back when she watched Annette become her puppet, the womans will merging with her own for only a few seconds and taking on Marcella's desires as her desires.

 "You miss every shot you don't take,"  the Psyker replied to Casimire, her soft voice carried across the distance between them and over the murmur of the hostels other occupants,  "and as mentioned, I would like to expand my client list; good business is where you find it. You know what I can offer, and you do not strike me as one to misuse his employee's talents, sir." 
Haval
 'Everyone has bills to pay.'  Orla adds. She wondered whether they could have tried suggesting that Marcella had a gambling problem, or perhaps a drug habit? But then she'd have to rely on the psyker to sell the lie. Perhaps it was better to try and keep things simple.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Wyndeward 
 Arl considers the Hound's words for a moment.

" Here is where I think things are off.  Ezekiel has us gathering evidence as if we were going to take this to a trial, where we have to meticulously demonstrate that Durchess has done what we claim he has done, listen to his counterarguments, and then counter those in turn.  We both know that this isn't how things work -- Ezekiel even scoffed when Marcella suggested such.  So, I am beginning to think a deeper game is going on than we have been led to believe.  Suppose this were simply about some decadent collector of heretical knickknacks. In that case, we'd have razed his estate, salted the earth behind us, muttered "Innocence proves nothing" if our searches came up empty in the aftermath of our actions, and moved on, probably sparing a moment or two to take care of his enablers while we were at it. "

Arl paused for a moment, then sighed.

" Perhaps my learning to read has me making things too complicated... " 
 

  "The truth is often hidden, and only revealed at the close,"  Hound observes.  "I agree that there may be more to this assignment than we are being told, but I believe you underestimate our target if you think of Durchess as nothing more than a "decadent collector if heretical knickknacks". His hand lays heavy on this hive, and maintaining a low profile may be as much for our protection as it could be a sign of reticence or deeper plans on the part of the Interrogator." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "The truth is often hidden, and only revealed at the close,"  Hound observes.  "I agree that there may be more to this assignment than we are being told, but I believe you underestimate our target if you think of Durchess as nothing more than a "decadent collector if heretical knickknacks". His hand lays heavy on this hive, and maintaining a low profile may be as much for our protection as it could be a sign of reticence or deeper plans on the part of the Interrogator."  
 

Arl mulls this over for a moment.

" Perhaps you are correct, at least in part.  However, something still doesn't feel right.  It isn't as if his power is sufficient to trump that of the Inquisition.  Likewise, the locals seem to be the usual "basket of crabs" nobles who would welcome the elimination of one of their own... "

Arl's eyes widen a fraction for a moment, then return to his normal gaze.

" Perhaps Durchess isn't the actual problem, just "the collector"... perhaps the problem is the "heretical knickknacks" themselves...  The Interrogator had a reaction when he was informed where the Rogue Trader was acquiring his goods. "
Bennosuke
Casmirre sighs, looking from Marcella to Orla, then to his companion, appearing overall rather nonplussed.  He shrugs, and then offers Marcella a devilish grin, raising a hand to stroke at his beard again. " And you would... be willing to leave this planet to expand your clientel? Unfortunately, I don't intend on being planet side for too much longer. " he asks, raising an eyebrow at the "medical practitioner".
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 Casmirre sighs, looking from Marcella to Orla, then to his companion, appearing overall rather nonplussed.  He shrugs, and then offers Marcella a devilish grin, raising a hand to stroke at his beard again. " And you would... be willing to leave this planet to expand your clientel? Unfortunately, I don't intend on being planet side for too much longer. " he asks, raising an eyebrow at the "medical practitioner". 
 

Now Marcella smirked,  blushing a little as she looked bashful.

 "That would suit me just fine, Sir." 
Bennosuke
" Really, " The Rogue Trader asks, his voice almost a sigh, his eyes narrowing as he studies Marcella, " Very interesting. And why would a person such as yourself be willing to drop their... practice, and leave the planet? "

(OOC: Is Marcella doing anything to try to hide her Voidborn background?)
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Really, " The Rogue Trader asks, his voice almost a sigh, his eyes narrowing as he studies Marcella, " Very interesting. And why would a person such as yourself be willing to drop their... practice, and leave the planet? " 
 


 &lt;"Because dirt-side is getting boring, and home is where the heart is."&gt;  Marcella answered, her words indecipherable to Orla or anyone else who didn't know "Shipspeak". It was likely that either Cassimire or one of his entourage understood, as Marcella was counting on it. If not? Well, she can adapt.

 &lt;"The dirt-siders are crazy! They're shooting each other all the time. Good for business? Not when they get themselves killed and don't come back! That just leaves me down a customer!  Murdering people on sight because they wear different colors so they can retain control over the local toxic refuse dump - madness! Madness and stupidity."&gt; 

Marcella inhaled and shook her head gently.

 &lt;"I am quite satisified returning to a boat with some order and a chain of command, where one third of my clients aren't trying to murder the other third."&gt; 
Haval
Why? Because you're a rich ******* and money justifies a lot. And because there's probably nicer planets out there then Helius. The Priests said so so it was probably true. Orla is quietly willing this to work if only to avoid the consequences of what might happen if this went badly.
Bennosuke
The smirk on the Rogue Trader's face widens into a broad smile, again showing gold crowned teeth. Pretty much all at the table perk up as well, their gazes gathering on Marcella. " You're Void Born? You're cant is impeccable! " Casmirre remarks, replying in ship-speak, leaving Orla to fumble at translating his garbled barbarous speech, " Interesting... I am sorry, but I don't believe I got your name. How long have you been dirt side? What brought you to this planet? "
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The smirk on the Rogue Trader's face widens into a broad smile, again showing gold crowned teeth. Pretty much all at the table perk up as well, their gazes gathering on Marcella. " You're Void Born? You're cant is impeccable! " Casmirre remarks, replying in ship-speak, leaving Orla to fumble at translating his garbled barbarous speech, " Interesting... I am sorry, but I don't believe I got your name. How long have you been dirt side? What brought you to this planet? " 
 


Marcella blushed again, bashfully, bringing her hand up to giggle into her palm once more before composing herself.

 "Dr Marcella Dominica,"  she answered, Orla able to understand what she was saying this time, before the psyker slipped right back into her native tongue.

 &lt;"My adult life,"&gt;  she answered,  &lt;"I tested as gifted; that got me an education and relocated dirt-side. Now I am quite eager to go home, up there."&gt; 
Haval
Orla will listen to whatever the two were saying just to see if she recognised any of the words. Presumably it wasn't about her. She will side eye Marcella a little when she loses her composure.
Bennosuke
Hound studies the room briefly as he hand his companion talk. Down a row of tables from the group of enforcers, is a pair of men. The two two are playing cards, and each have their own half finished flagon. Hound wouldn't even have noticed their excessive efforts to avoid looking over at the enforcers, if it weren't for the colors they were wearing. Though dressed somewhat drably, one wore outfits laced with the red, black and yellow colors of house Vistick, the other wearing the gold, orange and navy colors of house Durchesse. It was of course not illegal for a member of a wealthy trading house to be at some pub midhive, but it was highly unusual for a Durchesse and a Vistick man to be meeting, and to be trying so hard not to glance at the boisterous enforcers near by.

**************************************************  ******************

" Nice to meet you, " Casmirre says in Low Gothic, his gaze checking Orla for just a moment before returning to Marcella. Slipping back into Ship Cant, he says, " I find it strange that you would show up with your friend to find a job, asking no questions of her, and then be so willing to just give up your life here and leave... though I do understand the pull of the stars. Forgive my suspicion, but a man like myself can never be too cautious. My name is Lord Perrus Casmirre, of the Casmirre Rogue Trader family. " He pauses here to study Marcella's reaction.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella smiled pleasant, while continuing in Ship Cant.

 &lt;"Until you brought it up, I thought this might be just another possible client. But now that you have floated the possibility of leaving the planet? Going back star-side and departing this place with its silly local gangs, politics and every Cain, Dorn, and Lukas sticking their fingers into my purse? You seize opportunities where you find them. I'm sure as a Rogue Trader you can appreciate that sentiment."&gt; 

Then, when Cassimire introduced himself, Marcella offered a small curtsey, just something polite and formal while wrapped in her ladies business suit.

 &lt;"It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Casmirre,"&gt;  her voice low so as not to be discerned by any local eavesdroppers.

 &lt;"I am a licensed medical practicioner and surgeon, I have experience treating mechanical-organic augmentations. I am also a qualified chemist and I hold a license from the Administratum to pilot civilian-grade transports and shuttlecraft, anything that isn't armed or needs a navigator. Signed and stamped, of course."&gt; 
 &lt;"And..."&gt;  Marcella switched to High Gothic, another language Orla likely didn't understand.

 &lt;"As you can tell..."&gt;  still in High Gothic, before now returning to Low Gothic,  "you don't have to wait for me to learn the lingo!" 
Haval
Orla will relax a bit after Casmirre offers his name. That seemed like a good sign. Haven't spoken with Casmirre before she's hesitant to add anything unless Marcella seemed to be doing badly. She'll keep an eye on the Rogue Trader's retinue to see how they seemed to be taking this.
rax
 "Well, that is interesting,"  Hound mutters to Arl.  "Houses Durchesse and Vistick are practically at war, and yet here two of their guardsmen are making friendly and trying to avoid the gaze of the Enforcers. What do you make of that?" 
Bennosuke
" I see, " The Rogue Trader replies, switching effortlessly into High Gothic, " and what do you expect for payment, should you travel under my employ. "

Some of the others at the table seem unable to follow the conversation with the change in dialect.

*************************************************

Arl catches sight of the two indicated by Hound, and gets his meaning immediately.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " I see, " The Rogue Trader replies, switching effortlessly into High Gothic, " and what do you expect for payment, should you travel under my employ. " 
 


The Psykser retained her composure, all things considered.

 &lt;"I will work for what I am paid, Sir,"&gt;  she answered gently in High Gothic.
 
&lt;"I would prefer room and board, to be a part of my salary,"&gt;  she started, before perking her eyebrow  " private , naturally, sir." 

At only 5'4", Marcella seemed diminutive to those arrayed before  her, yet, her willpower and intelligence pushed her forward.

 &lt;"Atop of of that..."&gt;  

Marcella made a 'what do you think?' gesture with both of her hands towards the Rogue Trader.

 
&lt;"How much am I worth to you, per month?"&gt;.  she asked, her High Gothic crisp impeccable.

 
&lt;"Given your obvious wealth,"&gt;   Marcella started,  &lt;"I would estimate about two hundred thrones a month!"&gt;  Marcella said, taking advantage that most could not understand her.
Bennosuke
" Two hundred thrones, " The Rogue Trader asks in a dramatic shock, making sure to use Low Gothic so that  Orla  can here as he brings a hand to his chest. Switching back to High Gothic, Casmirre narrows his eyes and says sternly, " Now Doctor, I don't even have your credentials, and you ask so much! Private quarters we can arrange. But for an unknown medical practitioner, whom I have never worked with, nor seen at work... why I would offer a hundred thrones per month maximum! Perhaps less! "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Let's have a contested Barter roll here. Will roll for Casmirre, who only has it skilled vs 45  (1d100)[ 2 ](2) 
Edit: Good luck. That will be against 4 degrees of success.
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

The Psyker smiled brightly, nodding once as she leaned forward and extended her hand to offer for the Rogue Trader to shake.

 &lt;"One hundred thrones a month and private quarters - I agree, sir, deal!"&gt;  she smiles brightly, friendly and sweetly, following his lead and speaking in High Gothic.


OOC:
 
 Spoiler 
No way she's beating that roll XD haha, so she's putting him on the spot and accepting his floated offer.
 
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 " Two hundred thrones, " The Rogue Trader asks in a dramatic shock, making sure to use Low Gothic so that  Orla  can here as he brings a hand to his chest. Switching back to High Gothic, Casmirre narrows his eyes and says sternly, " Now Doctor, I don't even have your credentials, and you ask so much! Private quarters we can arrange. But for an unknown medical practitioner, whom I have never worked with, nor seen at work... why I would offer a hundred thrones per month maximum! Perhaps less! " 
 

 'Perhaps you can find a way for her to demonstrate.'  Orla offered.  'You got anyone that needs healing at the moment?' 

She'll shake her head in disbelief at the numbers of thrones that had been offered.  'You pay well.' 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "Well, that is interesting,"  Hound mutters to Arl.  "Houses Durchesse and Vistick are practically at war, and yet here two of their guardsmen are making friendly and trying to avoid the gaze of the Enforcers. What do you make of that?"  
 

" It smells like someone has a back channel between the two belligerents, probably for their own benefit, although which way the information is flowing would be interesting to find out. "
rax
 "You are suggesting that these two fellows are waiting to meet someone?"  Hound inquired.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "You are suggesting that these two fellows are waiting to meet someone?"  Hound inquired. 
 

" Perhaps...  If there is something that I have learned as a "member of the Credit Guild," almost anything is for sale if the price is right.  They may be waiting on a third party, but the two of them sitting there trying to not attract attention is more than enough to make me wonder which way the information is flowing and who is paying for it. "
rax
 "If they are spying on someone, they have done a poor job of concealing themselves. Wearing the colours of rival houses while sharing a friendly drink seems guaranteed to draw attention,"  Hound replies.  "Shall we observe these two or attempt to learn what they're up to through more direct means? And what about keeping an eye open for the main target?" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "If they are spying on someone, they have done a poor job of concealing themselves. Wearing the colours of rival houses while sharing a friendly drink seems guaranteed to draw attention,"  Hound replies.  "Shall we observe these two or attempt to learn what they're up to through more direct means? And what about keeping an eye open for the main target?"  
 

" A good hunter waits for the right moment...  I think we wait and watch for the moment. "
rax
 "Very well, watch and wait - I can manage that,"  Hound replies with what could be mistaken for a hint of humour.
Bennosuke
The Rogue Trader's eyes go wide when Marcella immediately accepts the offer. But rather than seem pleased, something like a scowl crosses his face. " Very well then, " Casmirre says slow and cold, " I'll have one of my scriveners write you up a contract this week. " He waves a gloved hand, as if it's not big deal, but the Rogue Trader's eyes remain locked on Marcella, studying her like a puzzle.

He ignores Orla's suggestion, but turns to the ruffian. " It looks like I may be picking up two crew members then, " he says to her, then he pauses for a long moment. His brows move as he mulls something over, then perhaps Orla's previous suggestion brings a thought to mind. A grin reappearing on his face, he replies, " Or... perhaps we should find a way for both of you to prove your... worth. " A gloved hand comes up to stroke his wild beard, then Casmirre says, " I  was  hoping to discuss this with you. You said you had connections in the underhive, correct? Are you... able to get past the enforcers and get back down? " He asks this is a hush.

**************************************************  ****

The two do their best to observe the men playing cards, while of course not being sighted in their observations. The more Hound and Arl watch, the more clear it is that the two men have little interest in their card game; laying down hands with little interest or investment. The two seem almost focused on "seeming normal" while watching the Enforcers and trying not to be noticed. This of course makes Arl and Hound's job easier.

Then in the most obviously surreptitious way possible, the man in Vistick colors retrieves a velvet bag from his sleeve, and passes it across the table to his companion. By its shape and weight, the sack appears to be filled with thrones. The other in Durchess colors quickly tucks the bag into a pocket in his robes.

The two continue to play for a tense few more minutes, before the Durchess man reveals a scroll tube of dark green lacquered wood, and passes it in exchange to his companion.
Haval
Orla tries to look relaxed, but will be watching Casmirre very closer to see if it looked like he wasn't serious.

To answer his point,  'It's a big hive. There's plenty of routes to get down there if you know what you're doing. You want me to take one of your lot down?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella noted that Casimirre seemed to have...not been expecting her to accept his deal. Had her dorky, sweet charms disarmed the man, so that he had fallen for one of the oldest negotiating tactics in the book to over-demand a price for something, in this case her service, so that he would counter-offer what she actually wanted - and she'd accepted it?

Marcella would certainly like to think that, but the true could be something else entirely.

But, now it was Orla's turn to talk, and so the psyker went quiet and listened.
Bennosuke
Lord Casmirre nods his head with a pleased expression on his face, but replies, " No, that won't be necessary. But, if you would be willing, I would have you meet a friend and... pick up a package for me. " He says this as if it's no big deal, but Orla can feel the man's eyes focused on her, as if trying to probe her mind before she replies. His companions as well, look on with focused interest.
Haval
Orla will answer immediately.   'Whose your friend and what's the package?'  That he wanted her to move the package raised some questions.  'And I take it you're going to pay me something for doing this?'  She'll say the last thing with a slight smile. It's not like he could object if he needed her for something.  'I have to ask.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marcella remained quiet beside Orla, observing all but saying nothing.
rax
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The two do their best to observe the men playing cards, while of course not being sighted in their observations. The more Hound and Arl watch, the more clear it is that the two men have little interest in their card game; laying down hands with little interest or investment. The two seem almost focused on "seeming normal" while watching the Enforcers and trying not to be noticed. This of course makes Arl and Hound's job easier.

Then in the most obviously surreptitious way possible, the man in Vistick colors retrieves a velvet bag from his sleeve, and passes it across the table to his companion. By its shape and weight, the sack appears to be filled with thrones. The other in Durchess colors quickly tucks the bag into a pocket in his robes.

The two continue to play for a tense few more minutes, before the Durchess man reveals a scroll tube of dark green lacquered wood, and passes it in exchange to his companion. 
 

  "An interesting exchange, though I am unclear on why those two seem concerned about the Enforcers. It is hardly their business to interfere in private transactions between two servants of the nobility,"  Hound comments.  "I wonder if they are  trying  to attract attention?" 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "An interesting exchange, though I am unclear on why those two seem concerned about the Enforcers. It is hardly their business to interfere in private transactions between two servants of the nobility,"  Hound comments.  "I wonder if they are  trying  to attract attention?"  
 

" I suspect that the answer to your question is probably on that scroll.  At least we know which one to follow when this breaks up. "
Bennosuke
The Rogue trader leans towards Orla, so that he can speak in hushed voice. In close, she can smell the ghost traces of cologne, or maybe a scented wash; a complex and spicy aroma. " I assume you are perhaps familiar with the Sabay and the Tora? " he asks in a voice so low, that Orla can barely understand the man, " Well, the leader of the Sabay; a man named Half Face, has a package for me. It would be quiet kind of you to retrieve it and bring it back. What is in the package is not your concern... and Emperor help you if I find out you have opened or tampered with my package. But, if you will bring it to me, then perhaps I will be able to trust you... and your friend. "
Haval
 'Oh I'm familiar.'  Orla replied quietly.  'Half Face know I'm coming? Or know I'm working for you? Getting down there is one thing, but it's not going to be good for anyone if one of Half Face's boys decides to take a shot at me before I can talk to him.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella felt a spike run through her nervous system as she realised she'd have to go and meet Boss Half-face and retrieve "a package" from him.

Boss Half-face whom she, only a few months ago, had already met.

Not only would he likely see through her silly disguise and recognize her, given the visible paranoia of the man, but it was likely that he, or one of his extended, vulgar crew, would recall Orla's own appearance, given her life of sin and debauchery amidst the lurid Underhive while wearing the colors of her gang upon her arm.

In short, this would be tricky. They'd need to figure out how best to approach this without being recognised.
Bennosuke
The Vistick man pockets the scroll, thrusting it into the sleeve of his robe. Hound and Arl watch as the two men return to playing cards, seemingly even less engaged in the activity then before. After another ten minutes or so, the man in Vistick colors lays his cards down on the table and casually says, " Very well then. " He reaches a hand across the table and the two shake. Then he rises, and walks to the bartender, leaving the man in Durchesse colors at the table, and hurriedly pays the keep, before leaving the tavern.

**************************************************  *****

The Rogue Trader raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. " He knows to await one of my men. This sort of transaction happens from time to time, " Casmirre says slowly, still in hushed voice. He studies Orla's face before asking, " Why, is there any reason he wouldn't trust you? "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trader raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. " He knows to await one of my men. This sort of transaction happens from time to time, " Casmirre says slowly, still in hushed voice. He studies Orla's face before asking, " Why, is there any reason he wouldn't trust you? " 
 

 'Well we'll find out won't we. The thing about down there is lots of people will be mad at you for getting too close to their territory. Don't need any more reason then that.'  It wasn't as if she was going to refuse him here.  'I'll just have to see how his boys take it.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


The Psyker remained quiet and listened, her mind, eccentric as it was, devising several ways they might accomplish this.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Vistick man pockets the scroll, thrusting it into the sleeve of his robe. Hound and Arl watch as the two men return to playing cards, seemingly even less engaged in the activity then before. After another ten minutes or so, the man in Vistick colors lays his cards down on the table and casually says, " Very well then. " He reaches a hand across the table and the two shake. Then he rises, and walks to the bartender, leaving the man in Durchesse colors at the table, and hurriedly pays the keep, before leaving the tavern. 
 

Arl nods to the Hound.  " I think we need to go, " waving to the barkeep and paying for the meals.
Bennosuke
The Rogue Trader scowls a little and says nothing. Then he gestures to Marcella, and now saying a little louder asks, " And you're friend; you will be able to take her along? " It was a question, but it was clear he had a very specific expectation regarding the answer. To Marcella he says, " Have you ever been down to the underhive my friend? " He keeps his voice low enough that others nearby would have to be intentionally listening in to catch what he was saying.

**************************************************  **

The barkeep seems to notice the hurry with which the two leave, but say nothing.

(OOC: Let's start with a stealth roll at +10 to shadow your target. And to confirm, the two PCs are following the Durchesse man?)
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The barkeep seems to notice the hurry with which the two leave, but say nothing.

(OOC: Let's start with a stealth roll at +10 to shadow your target. And to confirm, the two PCs are following the Durchesse man?) 
 

Arl pauses to pay the barkeep and exits the bar, flipping his Credit Guild cloak over to become less conspicuous.

(OOC:  Arl will be following the Vistick man -- the one with the scroll.  The money is probably worth a lot less than whatever information is on that scroll.)

 (1d100)[ 28 ]  vs 51 (Agi 40 + Stealth+10) plus whatever I might get indirectly for Unremarkable.
Bennosuke
(OOC: Credited two thrones from Arl, dropping him to 203.)

The two follows the Vistick man out into the streets, which have become slightly busier during their pub visit. His bright colors make their mark easy to pick out in the crowd, and Arl leads Hound after him. The two take their time to stay back, and out of sight. They follow the man about a kilometer, moving back towards a nicer section of the midhive. The loose throng allow the two to stay fully undetected, but start closing on him as he begins to unlock and awaken a well kept but unassuming six wheeled sedan, clearly used for personal transportation.
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The Rogue Trader scowls a little and says nothing. Then he gestures to Marcella, and now saying a little louder asks, " And you're friend; you will be able to take her along? " It was a question, but it was clear he had a very specific expectation regarding the answer. To Marcella he says, " Have you ever been down to the underhive my friend? " He keeps his voice low enough that others nearby would have to be intentionally listening in to catch what he was saying. 
 

Orla avoids the urge to smirk at the implication that Marcella might have a problem in the Underhive.  'That's up to her. Getting there is most of the bother. Other then that she just has to follow my lead.' 
rax
 "We'd better get a move on, or that scroll's taking a quick ride out of our reach,"  Hound comments to Arl.  "Suppose I go ahead and draw his attention so you can get the drop on him?" 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc reached a dainty hand up to adjust her glasses.

 "Once. When I had no other option. It's not on my list of future holiday destinations..." 

The idea of a clean, well dressed, soft looking professional little nerd like Marcella walking around the UnderHive was almost comical it was so absurd. She looked like one of the  least threatening people on the planet, which in that slimey world meant "easy target".

 "I dont follow the logic of how serving as a courier through the most dangerous locale in this hive proves my value, but if it must be done..." 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by rax 
  "We'd better get a move on, or that scroll's taking a quick ride out of our reach,"  Hound comments to Arl.  "Suppose I go ahead and draw his attention so you can get the drop on him?"  
 

" An excellent suggestion.  After you. "

With that, Arl separates from the Hound so as to get behind the Vistick man.
Bennosuke
The Rogue Trader nods his head with satisfaction at Orla's reply. He raises an eyebrow at Marcella's comment and mutters, " If you've been on a ship, you know the importance of loyalty and following command. "

He turns back to Orla and says with less ire, " Very well then. We hope to take off in the next ten days or so, so hopefully you will be able to... take care of business by then. " He gestures to the group assembled at the table. " One of us will be here at all times, " he says, " If you don't see one of us down here at the  mess hall,  just ask one of the keepers for a member of the  Mire Congregation. Won't be hard.  "

**************************************************  **

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
I suspect some sort of Fellowship roll will be appropriate here, depending on how Hound wants to do this; maybe blather, charm or deceive?
 
rax
Hound makes his way to the sedan, making sure he's on the passenger side, so that the body of the car is between him and the Vistick man. He also times his approach so as not to get too far ahead of Arl. If the plan works, he wants Arl to be able to close quickly and deal with the man.

When he comes up to the rear of the car, Hound surreptitiously draws his punch dagger and appears to stumble slightly, dropping to one knee. He quickly thrusts his dagger into the rear tyre and then sheathes it again before rising to his feet, steadying himself on the car boot.

 "Say, friend, I think your rear tyre may have a hole in it!"  he then calls out to the Vistick man.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Do you need some rolls for the physical activities? The idea is to use distance and cover (the body of the car) as much as possible to prevent the Vistick man from noticing what Hound's doing.

As for his comment, if the plan works, he's telling the plain truth, though maybe a Deceive test would be necessary to act innocent?
 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marc felt an inner urge to 'get the last word', as she inferred a low-key insult implication that she hadn't really been on a vessel. The snap back floated in the back of her head, something along the lines of not sending an engineer to cook the food, but in the end the Psyker thought better of it and suppressed all urges.

Instead, she remained quiet and stood next to Orla.
Bennosuke
The tire punctures with ease at the impact of Hound's dagger.

(OOC: I don't think it is necessary to roll to punch a hole in the tire. But I think a deception check would make sense to get away with punching it and convincing the driver that he is helping and not the man who actually slashed the tire)
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 He turns back to Orla and says with less ire, " Very well then. We hope to take off in the next ten days or so, so hopefully you will be able to... take care of business by then. "  
 

Orla smiled.  'That should do it.'  She'll considered asking what would happen if she say ran into the Enforcers on the way to the Underhive but she didn't want to come across as incapable. If something unexpected did come up that would be for Casmire to deal with.
Bennosuke
Casmirre smiles, showing off two rows of perfectly pearly teeth, except for a single golden tooth with a skull electro-etched into it. " Very well then, " he says, " I look forward to your success. " He reaches an arm out and pats Orla on the shoulder. He nods to Marcella, the gesture a curt bow and says, " Doctor. " He then rises and walks away from the table, leaving his underlings with the two newcomers.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc watched silently as the toothy-grinning Rogue Trader made his leave.

 "Captain, Sir,"  was her polite reply to his address, before looking at Orla, then the two remaining cronies of their new "employer".
Haval
In reply to Casmirre,  'Count on it.' 

After the Rogue Trader had left she'll address his underlings,  'We good here? Or is one of you coming with us?' 
Bennosuke
The vehicle immediately jutters, and begins to tilt as air loudly hisses from the tire. On the other side of the car, Hound doesn't see, but can hear the door open as the man gets out. He watches from his kneeled position as the man's boots hit the ground, viewed from under the car. " Hey, what are you doing, " the Vistick man growls. Hound watches as the man's feet begin to walk around the side to the front of the car, circling towards him.

Arl of course can see all this occur.

******************************************

The group gathered at the table look at Orla as if she were speaking another language. Finally, Anette gives a shrug and says, " I think you two are on your own. "
Haval
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The group gathered at the table look at Orla as if she were speaking another language. Finally, Anette gives a shrug and says, " I think you two are on your own. " 
 

 'Suits me. I'll guess I'll see you around.'  She'll look towards Marcella to get her to follow her to somewhere outside of their earshot.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 The group gathered at the table look at Orla as if she were speaking another language. Finally, Anette gives a shrug and says, " I think you two are on your own. " 


Marcella offered a polite little smile and a nod and a farewell, "Ladies, gentlemen."

Following Havals lead, the Psyker shuffled off with her companion to where they would no longer be heard, likely a few blocks away just to be safe.

 "...so, what's the plan?"  she'd ask quietly.
Haval
 'Get some distance from them first.'  Orla replied quietly.  'Maybe find a place to lose anyone who might decide to follow us. You got any opinions about that?'  Orla has yet to mention Marcella's abilities while they were out in public but heavily implies that the psyker might have perceived things that she hadn't.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The vehicle immediately jutters, and begins to tilt as air loudly hisses from the tire. On the other side of the car, Hound doesn't see, but can hear the door open as the man gets out. He watches from his kneeled position as the man's boots hit the ground, viewed from under the car. " Hey, what are you doing, " the Vistick man growls. Hound watches as the man's feet begin to walk around the side to the front of the car, circling towards him.

Arl of course can see all this occur. 
 

Arl forces himself to move with the deliberate slowness of a disinterested passer-by, moving to get behind the Vistick man.  Once out of the guardsman's line of sight, he withdraws his hand-cannon and moves to stand directly behind the irate guardsman.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 
 "As long as it's somewhere secluded. Maybe a private booth at a better bar?" 

Marcella trotted away with Orla, following the ganger to a more secluded area where they could talk in private, possibly another bar, or somewhere with privacy.

When they found one, Marc would tuck herself in and speak quietly to her fellow acolyte, making a facial gesture that was allowing Orla to speak first.
rax
 "Easy there, friend. Like I was saying - it looks like you've got a hole in your rear tyre. If I were you, I'd change it before driving off. Be a shame to crash such a fine vehicle,"  Hound replies standing his ground and trying to keep the man's attention on himself.
Haval
Orla will lead Marcella to the nearest bar or restaurant where they can hopefully be unobserved. Ideally Orla will fond somewhere that she can observe the door to the premises while they talk.

 'You think they trust us? I know he needs me but it looked like he was going to have a problem with you for a minute there.'  Whatever they did really depended on Marcella's assessment of Casmirre.  'Other then that I don't see any reason not to go get this package of his. Do you think the boss has a way of telling us what's inside without us having to open it?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

 'You think they trust us? I know he needs me but it looked like he was going to have a problem with you for a minute there.' Whatever they did really depended on Marcella's assessment of Casmirre. 'Other then that I don't see any reason not to go get this package of his. Do you think the boss has a way of telling us what's inside without us having to open it?' 


Marcella shook her head gently,  "Of course they don't trust us. They've met you twice and me just once; I doubt Cassimire ascended to his position by being a nice, trusting gentleman with a smile for every child and skip in his step." 

The Psyker then pursed her lips and thought for a second.

 "The problem is that Half-face has met me. He met me under the guise of being a member of the credit guild, but he didn't buy it and told us to leave after pointing a flamethrower in my direction. While you..."  she trails off for a moment.

 "Are a member of a gang who has been diametrically opposed to his, tooth and claw. It only takes a single one of his multitudinous goons to recognize your face and blow your cover, and you'll be requiring the galaxy's most powerful sunblock to avoid having a very unpleasant end to your day. So...I think we're both kinda in the ****, as they would say,"  she tilts her head with a sour ripple across her lips, as if she had just bitten a lemon.
Bennosuke
Orla and Marcella are not in the nicest part of the hive. The pub that they push themselves into is little more than a cramped shack with a rectangular bar in the middle. A handful of haggard drunks huddle on stools, drinking what looks like grain alcohol out of dusty glass mugs. The bar itself appears to be automated; some sort of ornate machine of iron and brass sitting on the table with an arm to take credits and a hose to pour alcohol. The hoses snake ludely from metallic depictions of a variety of hard to identify saints.

At least from a cursory glance, there is no evidence that the two were followed, and no one in the bar really seems interested in the pair.

(OOC: will let the two continue chatting)

**********************************************

The man's face is turning cherry as he approaches Hound. He holds his fists up in balled fists; no clear weapon drawn, though he wears a dueling knife on his belt. By the way he raises his guard, it's clear the man has probably never been in a fist fight in his life. " What did you do to my ar, " he hisses, his voice mimicking the shriek of air leaking from his tires.

(OOC: Can I please get a stealth roll from Arl then, let's say +20 with his distraction with Hound)
Haval
 'Yeah, but there's the regular kind of not trusting us and the kind where he follows us or tries to knife us in a dark alley.'  Orla gets even quieter,  'Not to mention the kind where he knows about the boss somehow, but if you're saying that you didn't notice anything I didn't, I guess that's a start.' ' 

As for the other point,  'So maybe we get you a disguise and a good mask. Assuming you dont just keep your distance when I talk to Half Face.'  As for Orla herself,  'I thought about that. It's not like I ever got that close to them before and I've got these new clothes if we want to try and pretend I'm someone else. And if that doesn't work I've got Casmirre to threaten Half Face with. What are the chances Half Face wouldn't want to risk pissing off a Rogue Trader even when he's all the way down there?' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc sat listening to Orla, before her eyes lit up at the prospect of another disguise.

 "Ohhh!"  she gasped sweetly, face bright as she leaned forward, whispering in a hushed and excited tone.

 "Like one of those...what are they..."  she waved her open palm across her face a few times, simulating a mask of some sort.

 "Those gimp masks? Is it?!"  she beamed, clearly mistaking names for what Orla had in mind, her expression sunny and  bubbly with anticipation.

 "We could do a full make over, and I could wear one of those gimp masks that you all wear down in the UnderHive!" 
Haval
 'I thought you'd like that.'  Orla grinned.  'I was thinking of one of those chunky metal face masks I've seen some of the Tech Priests use but you do you. The one you mentioned just seems uncomfortable.' 
BananaPhone
   Marcella 


Marcella watched Orla talk with her eyes characteristically open with a sunny smile. It was clear she didn't know what she was speaking of with her nomenclature, though it was a ripe field for Orla's amusement.

 "Ohh, like...something over my head completely...?"  the psyker trailed off, reaching a hand up to brush her hair protectively.

 "I was in my Credit Guilder disguise last time. So he's seen my face, my normal hair color..."  she trailed off, biting her bottom lip, nodding.

 "I'll wear something over my face and I'll dye my hair black. Ooo maybe red! Ahh - !"  she gasped excitedly, hands drawn together.

Her enthusiasm lingered in the air after its initial explosion, before her eyes swiveled to look at Orla herself.

 "What about you?"  she asked with visible confusion.

 "We can't  both  rock up with masks, that'd look weird down there, wouldn't it?"  she asked,  "No, wait...I've been there twice, most people are pretty hideous, two women covering their might just be normal?"  she asked, clearly not meaning offense as her expression was one of sincere, concerned inquiry.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man's face is turning cherry as he approaches Hound. He holds his fists up in balled fists; no clear weapon drawn, though he wears a dueling knife on his belt. By the way he raises his guard, it's clear the man has probably never been in a fist fight in his life. " What did you do to my ar, " he hisses, his voice mimicking the shriek of air leaking from his tires.

(OOC: Can I please get a stealth roll from Arl then, let's say +20 with his distraction with Hound) 
 

 
 Spoiler: Arl's Stealth Check 

 (1d100)[ 1 ]  vs 71 (AGI 41 +10 Stealth +20 Distraction)
 
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man's face is turning cherry as he approaches Hound. He holds his fists up in balled fists; no clear weapon drawn, though he wears a dueling knife on his belt. By the way he raises his guard, it's clear the man has probably never been in a fist fight in his life. " What did you do to my ar, " he hisses, his voice mimicking the shriek of air leaking from his tires. 
 

Arl glided silently behind the guardsman, leveling the hand-cannon at the back of the man's head.  At an appropriate pause in the conversation, he thumbed back the hammer of the hand-cannon with a loud *SNICK*

" I'd worry less about the hole in the tire.  If you don't hush up, we'll be discussing the hole in your head. "
Bennosuke
(OOC: I presume that Orla and Marcella are still chatting)

**************************************************  ****

The man in the Vistick colored robes doesn't notice the man behind him till the hand cannon is pressed into the small of his back. The two watch him go bolt rigid, and Hounds can see the color immediately drain from his face. The man slowly raises both his hands, but his eyes start scanning the street for pedestrians. The street is relatively empty, but it's not that late, and it is unlikely that the two acolytes will have much time before someone comes up or down the block and catches sight of them.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man in the Vistick colored robes doesn't notice the man behind him till the hand cannon is pressed into the small of his back. The two watch him go bolt rigid, and Hounds can see the color immediately drain from his face. The man slowly raises both his hands, but his eyes start scanning the street for pedestrians. The street is relatively empty, but it's not that late, and it is unlikely that the two acolytes will have much time before someone comes up or down the block and catches sight of them. 
 

Arl speaks quickly and quietly, in a conversational tone.

" Put your hands down.  This doesn't need to get loud or messy and I'd rather keep this reasonably professional.  You will hand my associate the scroll you received from the Durchesse fellow now, without fuss and we will all leave with all our important bits intact.  You'll be out a scroll and a tire, but you will live.  Make so much as a noise above a conversational tone and this will get messy very quickly. "
Haval
Orla shrugged,  'You shouldn't need to cut anything off. You just got to find a way that'll make your average scrote think twice about messing with you. And I guess it depends on how much you talked to Half Face the last time.' 

On disguising herself,  'You know, if I dressed like I was a member of an Underhive gang I never would have come up here for work in the first place. Too many funny looks. What if I just reused the private security thing from party? If anyone actually recognises me I just tell the truth. A very scary man with a spaceship wants me to pick up a package for him. If you have a problem with me making the delivery he will hear about it. Would you want to piss of Casmirre if it was you in that position.'  She'll won't comment on Marcella's opinion about how hideous everyone was in the Underhive.
BananaPhone
   Marcella 

Marc flattened her lips together and half-peered at and past Orla as she spoke, nodding absentmindedly.

 "I didn't speak in his presence,"  the Psyker finally answered.

 "He was a big guy..."  she gestured upwards, recreating the dimensions of his shoulders with her hands, as she went about  describing Boss Half Face ...


 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 But as the acolytes get close to the big structure, the two Sabay gangers guarding the door, each holding what look like disused military grade las rifles, step aside. A massive and well muscled bare chested man steps through the door. His head is hooded behind a patchwork leather respirator mask, with big reflective black bug-eye goggles, and a pair of long tubes that come from the mouth opening and feed out into a pack on the man's back. Despite the cold, he wears little more than a pair of canvas slacks, and a regal fur coat that hands over the man's breathing pack. In his hands is a finely crafted and well maintained flamer, it's blocky chromed steel body connected by a long hose to the same pack as the man's respirator. 
 

 "....I never spoke, so he hasn't heard my voice. I was dressed as a Credit Guilder. I hung around in the back. My hair was natural color then, and curly, bulb, hehehe..."  she giggled into her palm,  "I think if I dye it black or auburn and wear a mask of some kind, and my flak cloak and black clothes..."  Marcella nodded.

OOC:
Marc is evidently on-board with a make-over disguise, so feel free to finish this mini-scene between them and move on if you'd like, Haval ^_^.
rax
Hound extends a hand, waiting for the man to hand over the scroll, while discreetly putting a hand on the butt of his silenced pistol to reinforce Arl's threat.
Bennosuke
The man slowly lowers his hands, his body otherwise frozen in its rigid posture. With Arl behind him, the man instead locks eyes with Hound, who's face unless I am missing something, is uncovered. " Who in bloody Terra are you, " he growls, keeping his voice low with the threat of a barrel between his shoulder blades. His hands stop, lowered just below shoulder level, refusing to reach for the requested scroll.

*************************************************

(OOC: Still assuming you are still talking)
rax
 "That is none of your concern, and the longer you drag this out, the messier this well get, as my associate intimated. The scroll, if you please,"  Hound reuffs the man.
Wyndeward
 
 Originally Posted by Bennosuke 
 The man slowly lowers his hands, his body otherwise frozen in its rigid posture. With Arl behind him, the man instead locks eyes with Hound, who's face unless I am missing something, is uncovered. " Who in bloody Terra are you, " he growls, keeping his voice low with the threat of a barrel between his shoulder blades. His hands stop, lowered just below shoulder level, refusing to reach for the requested scroll. 
 

" We're the people who have a hand cannon to the base of your spine.  Beyond that, it doesn't particularly matter who we are.  This isn't a conversation or society soiree.  Your choices are hand my friend the scroll and leave with your life or I shoot you down, we take the scroll and you die.  It really isn't that complicated. "