JNAProductions
 OOC Thread 

 
Exoberia IV is in its cold season. They're all cold, but this one moreso than others. You're bundled up as appropriate for your stature-Igor and Mercedes due to the chill, Tiberius because he's not supposed to make others feel uncomfortable with loose cybernetics. General Latisha Zodden, direct superior to Igor and Mercedes, has summoned them to her office. She also requested the presence of Envy and Tiberius.

"It's Ibex," she informs you. "Again. This time, he wants livestock-a thousand Exoberian cattle, and he refuses to elaborate."

Envy sighs-a metallic, grating noise. "What is his obsession with biology?"

The general shrugs. "I've given a few orders to start gathering, but it'll be a while till they're all ready. I'm hopeful that his attention will waver and he'll forget he wanted them at all. He's been more distracted lately."

"So why bring us?" Envy asks. "Surely you don't really care about keeping us informed."

She gives a wan smile. "I like to keep those who are competent in the loop-and you four are nothing if not competent. Ibex has been here for seventy four days now, and as far as I can tell, he's done nothing but waste resources and time, not to mention the morale issues his snooping has caused... What I would like," she says, her voice heavy with undertones, "is for you to see if you can find a better venue for his talents. You know what I mean."
BelGareth
Calix wore the big billowing cold weather gear the unmodified humans of this awful world were want to wear, mostly to fit in, but also to hide his augmetics, they made organics uncomfortable for a reason he would never understand, in the Mechanicus, his modifications were highly sought after, prized, awarded, none of it made sense, the Imperium wanted their technology, but spurned the real gifts. He let out a mechanical sigh at the thought, releasing some built up pressure in a few pistons, it was a strange affectation, as it made him more human, even if it was a mechanical gesture. Another juxtaposed 'thing' which made no sense.

The coat was large, but he cared not, his gear was hidden, and even moreso under this mass of clothing. He walked with a strange gait, not used to the bulk, and not being to stride his long augmented legs.

Envy kept up a demanding pace, and complained not, not even a single cant or noospheric gesture to suggest her feelings, the Magos was a mystery most of the time, but they had managed to form a bond on this mission, now it had changed, Calix gave a small growl, a binary burst to the noosphere, which was awfully absent in this place, demenostrying his dismay at being summoned by the imperial general.

Envy sent an admonishing burst of code, Calix nodded, happy to just have a response from his senior Magos. He followed her in silence, happy for now.

After the General spoke, he canted to Envy   &lt;he can't be serious, this is an inquisitor, if the imperial presence here are that tired of him, we may need to reevaluate our analysis of his presence, and the threat it poses Magos&gt; 
 
  "I think it may be prudent to speak somewhere else about the details?"   He says, using his flesh-voice for the those un-augmented in the meeting.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes felt out of place in this room. She and her sisters had been seconded to the Guard on this world, mostly because the Adeptus Sororitas has little presence on this world in general. It was a cold place, and to Mercedes, it felt further from the Emperor's light than any world she had visited before. As far as she knew there were no relics here, no great deaths of saints. Just ice, snow, and the drudging presence of the city.

This place was a punishment. Being here was a penance. It seemed improper for her to be included in the general's councils. Her advice and opinions weren't worth seeking, weren't worth hearing. But to doubt the general's judgement would be to doubt the Imperium, to doubt the emperor. Her catechisms taught her that doubt was a sin, and yet still she doubted. Why her?

This inquisitor, Ibex. Nominally, he was her superior as well. Part of her yearned to report everyone here for questioning him. Another part worried about what it was he wanted. His actions truly didn't seem to make any sense. Why cattle? Why do anything he had done? It seemed almost designed to confuse and weaken the forces on the planet, but Exoberia IV was so quiet that it seemed like weakening it would achieve very little. The doubts circled her like carrion birds as she stood in the room. Each day it seemed harder and harder to know what to do. But her counsel, such as it was, had been sought and it was her duty to give it.

The young Hospitaller ignored the burst of binary. The half-machine priests of the Mechanicus always managed to put her slightly ill at ease. It seemed almost a corruption of the sacred human form, even though she had been assured by the Drill-Abbots that it was not.

 "The gangs have been acting more boldly in the last few months. Could it be brought to the Inquisitor's attention that these gangs might be straying further from the Emperor's light than they have before?"  Mercedes asked.
JNAProductions
To Tiberius, she says "Nowhere is more secure than here, from attackers and prying eyes." Then, after a few moments, General Zodden nods to Mercedes. "That is one avenue to consider. He has taken interest in them before, though the Emperor alone knows why."

There's a small buzz, and the general gestures for quiet. She hits a button on her desk, and a tinny voice comes through-her second in command, a man by the name of Attly Davidson. "Inquisitor Ibex is here to see you, ma'am."

She holds back a sigh, instead only saying "Send him in, of course. I hope he doesn't mind company."

The antechamber door opens, followed after only a moment by the door to the room you are in now. Ibex strides in, clad in a black leather coat concealing any of his gadgets. He stands tall-just over six and a half feet, with large, stompy boots and a spiffy hat. His voice is deep, a resonant bass that commands attention. "Evening, General Zodden. And... guests."
MrAbdiel
Igor von Strauk keeps his own counsel.  Historically, the Inquisition only made itself visible in one of two occasions: when rallying support from the disparate Adepta to compose an opposing force to a great evil... or to root around for such evils in places they may or may not exist.  The first was a source of glory and worthy of praise.  The second was endlessly irritating, deeply suspicious, and wholly unsettling for anyone nearby.

It may sense that General Zodden would pull together a group of competent outsiders to which she might palm the Inquisitors requests.  It meant the general's own soldiers did not have to be exposed to radioactive intelligence - the kind of secrets that require you to be buried in concrete just for witnessing them.  Keen as he was to serve the Emperor, Igor didn't particularly enjoy being called upon for this duty because he was a warrior who could be conveniently liquidated.

Their quartet had been sent on a number of these errands now with a minimum of difficulty.  The Martians had proven to be competent and so far trustworthy (the fact that these occasionally displayed evidence of humanity in their demeanours and actions was somewhat reassuring) and the Hospitaller was not the mere medic he had taken her for initially.  He had not yet determined whether their particular versions of the Imperial Creed were in full overlap, or if they would have some critical clash; but for now, he was glad to have someone less interested in the Martian God on 'his side'.

He straightens when Ibex enters.  Igor is tall, if ever so slightly shorter than the Inquisitor. But he is used to standing at attention before those towering over him; somewhat indoctrinated with a fascination for the grandeur of angels which, by echo of stature alone, compels the aspirant-turned-bodyguard to bow slightly.

 "Inquisitor.  Is this a matter to which we should turn our ears, or shall we vacate the room for you and the General?" 
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes also bows before the large man. No matter her reservations about the Inquisitor himself, his station deserved respect. She waited in silence for his answer to Igor's question, fully prepared to obey.
JNAProductions
"Stay, leave, I care not. What I care about, is," he turns and looks down on the general, "where are the cattle?"

General Zodden keeps her composure, saying "Inquisitor Ibex, you made this request two hours ago. I have set it in action, but-"

"But  what , general? But  what ?" he retorts.

"These things take time," she says. "But I will get my people to work twice as fast and thrice as hard to get what you need."

Ibex levels his gaze to hers, but remains silent for a few moments. "See that you do," he says eventually. "Or..." he leaves the threat unsaid.
BelGareth
Calix turned to receive the inquisitor, and when he entered made the sign of the Aquila   "Greetings Lord Inquisitor"   he says in his flesh-voice.   "Inquiry: Esteemed Inquisitor, may I humbly inquire about the purpose and significance of acquiring such a sizable inventory of bovines?"  
MrAbdiel
Given the option, Igor elects to stay.  He's savvy enough not to stare at the Inquisitor - but the voice alone, the demanding nature, the weird secrecy on top of urgency... Suggested an unquiet mind.  Inquisitors were called to be more  open  with their investigations and knowledges...

And, as the proverb goes,  'an open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred, and unguarded.' 

For the first time, he permitted himself to conceive of the notion that his  liquidatable  quality was not just as useful to a deviant agent of the throne as it was to a loyal one.  Really, though... the Martian's question was a good one.  Why, really, all the cattle?  A corrupt merchant might expect to be leveraging connections to make money... but an Inquisitor had easier ways of furnishing himself with material comforts.  He was not going to sell them... not for profit.  Perhaps, to pose as a cattle profiteer for some investigation?  That had to be it.

Of course, there was the other option - the possibility that the beasts were not for trade, but for  sacrifice.   And there were many legitimate variations of the Imperial Creed that permitted animal sacrifice:  Imperator Victus , and  Ziomonic Templarism  off the top of his head.  The vast majority of animals sacrificed in the Imperium were blood offerings to the Emperor or saints on worlds for whom the forging of steel was a present revolution.

...And a slim minority were sacrificed to  other  gods entirely.

Igor didn't look.  But he listened.  Carefully.
JNAProductions
"Tell your guardian to be silent," Ibex says to Envy. "I expect the task to be completed by sundown, general."

With his piece said, Ibex leaves, lingering for a short while in the antechamber before departing fully. General Zodden waits for Ibex to be fully gone before speaking again. "Thank you for your time. My trust is placed in you all. Dismissed."

You follow the dismissal and exit as she begins to send orders out to get Ibex his cattle. Her second nods to you as you exit. Outside the more protected general's chambers, the cold comes back, biting into the less mechanical among you with a bitter chill. Envy, in binaric code, tells Tiberius  &lt;Stay with these two for now. I will stay in contact, but there are other matters that need my attention.&gt; 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Figure out a plan-you can discuss it IC or OOC, but try to get some direction to go. If need be, I can add some, but I'd like to let you guys lead for a lil'. :)
 
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes also pondered the problem. Why cattle? The primary use of such beasts was food production, and a thousand cattle were a substantial number. There were several possibilities, but each of them seemed more outlandish than the last. Mercedes was left considering the simplest answer once more, that this was designed to waste resources. Gathering the cattle in a day would likely raise tensions among the farmers, as there would be little time to come to accommodations, and the disappearance of those cattle would likely impact those same farmers food quotas. Still, Mercedes kept her head bowed low until the Inquisitor left the room and the general dismissed them.

Once outside, Mercedes looked at her two companions, and then stifled a sigh. It wasn't her place to offer an opinion, and she felt compelled to bow to their superior experience, at least in starting a possible conversation.
MrAbdiel
Igor stands outside the chamber with his compatriots.  Having spent almost all of his adult life aboard a strike cruiser with a contained, monastic sense of family among the serfs, he has found it difficult to make friends.  These were no exception - but the more he dwelled on it, the more he felt that ignoring Ibex's strangeness would end with them all shot in a ditch somewhere... at best.  She speaks in low tones - they were all in it now, lashed to the same ship's wheel.  All they could do now is steer as best they could.

 "...Our duty to the General is superseded by the demand to see no harm come to a member of His Majesty's Imperial Inquisition.  But our greatest loyalty is to the Master of Mankind.  I do not know what Ibex is doing - but his manner has left room to wonder if he is not..." 

He cannot bring himself to make the accusation out loud.  Instead, the swordsman pulls his coat tighter around himself over the slim plates of merchant flak beneath, and tries again more obliquely.

 "...We may serve all our duties best by seeing that the Inquisitor is... safe, to serve Terra.  But if we do so inelegantly, we will be mistaken for spying, or meaning harm.  Let us consider... gathering information, until we are satisfied we are best serving the Emperor.  Agreed?  Perhaps we might begin by heading to the spaceport by which he arrived, and learning about the vessel in which he arrived - and what company came with him." 
JNAProductions
Exoberia has but one spaceport, situated not too far from HQ. There are formerly civilian vehicles that were commandeered long enough ago that they've entered standard use for the military presence-one of them should fit the three of you without trouble, so you find one available for use and start the trek.

Your destination is an hour and a half away. The sun dips lower in the sky while you move, entering dusk with your arrival. You park the vehicle and head for where the ships are lodged. There's a small contingent of sublight vessels, in case of attack, as well as  The Fist Of Glory , General Zodden's personal vessel, and one of two Warp-capable vessels here. The other one is  Crimson Heart , which Ibex arrived on.

There are two people standing guard outside the  Heart . Tall, statuesque women, dressed in simple clothes, but with their powerblades visible at their hips.
MrAbdiel
 "Static guards with power weapons - non-trivial security.  I loathe to consider an effort to get past them, and the penalty for failing.  But perhaps we can learn something useful before we confront such a bridge..." 

Leaning against an emptied cargo crate out of view of the warrior women, he looks left to the Martian and right to the Hospitaller.   "Can either of you see pict-recorders mounted in view of the  Heart 's ramp?  We may get a sense of who has come and gone, if they are taking such images - and if Calix is able to extract them without causing distress to the machines." 
JNAProductions
The  Crimson Heart 's mechanical security is a little more subtle than the guards standing so prominently, but Tiberius's ocular magnification is able to locate a few recorders. They blend in well, practically invisible to the naked eye, but there they are.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes eyed the guards briefly. They weren't wearing helmets, and didn't appear augmented the point where they would resist bullets. Getting past them would be trivial. Unless, of course, her assessment on their augmentations was incorrect. Such a mistake could easily prove fatal. Additionally, there was no evidence that the guards were anything other than contract labor for Ibex.  And not enough evidence of guilt to move against him if they were part of his retinue . . . 
 
"I can create a diversion, if needed."  Mercedes said, skeptically.  "But there are likely security measures in place beyond the ones we can readily see."  
BelGareth
Calix had been quiet since ordered to be so, most people would assume he was sulking, but any who had ever served with the mechanicus knew, he was merely following orders. Once Envy canted her orders to him, he responded in kind  &lt;as you wish Magos, praise be the Omnissiah&gt;  and made the symbol of the cog.

He followed them to the hanger.   "Query: should we attempt to bypass this security, or choose an easier option for any pict recorders of the ramp controlled by the building? There are also the servitor logs we can check for general activity, as well as the crew manifesto reported to the dock master."  
MrAbdiel
Igor considers the options, and skills of his companions.  He has followed orders most of his life... but leadership, or this situational version of it, comes naturally to him.

 "We ought to hold off on the diversion for now - you are correct that there will be more security measures.  And beyond that, our... protective investigation over the Inquisitor could easily be mistaken for something less savory, if we are too open about our goals."  He says, acknowledging Mercedes' offer. But a moment later, the Martian's announced suggestion did seem the subtler route.

 "Calix - only you have the capacity to access digital pict recordings.  See what you can learn from the servitors and the pict-feeds.  Mercedes and I will head to the dock master's office... to see about the specifications of the  Crimson Heart , and how we are going to fit a thousand cattle on it." 

It's a decent alibi.  If word got back to Ibex, it was an almost impenetrable lie - it was very much involved in the task he expected them to be doing.  For now, they would have to leave the guardians of the ship alone.  Engaging them them directly would draw attention to their investigation too quickly.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes nodded in agreement, and prepared herself to follow.
JNAProductions
Igor and Mercedes split off from Calix to locate the dockmaster, a man by the name of Dawson. He's old and weary, but does his job dutifully. The two find him in his office, writing daily logs. "Good evening," he says without looking up. "You better have a good reason for barging into my office."

 
Meanwhile, Calix skulks his way to the connection point between the  Heart  and the port. He finds a spot out of sight that allows for a connection, and subtly jacks into the network. It takes a good few minutes, but soon he has the recordings from outside the ship for the past few weeks available to peruse.
BelGareth
Having plugged directly in, he managed to find the data much quicker than if he were remotely connected, the data zoomed by as he parsed through it, with a few haptic gestures the data blew up in front of him in the noosphere where he began writing an algorythm to focus on the  Heart  and slow down if it detected any movement, allowing him to slow time and focus on each event. His hands picked up data like he was picking flowers, he removed sections, added others, merged and cut away like a master painter, if only he had the skill of a data-technician, he would have been done already, but his augmetics were more focused on picking, cutting, and removing sections of opponents....not code, but his enhanced limbs moved quicker either way, helping aide the function either way.

Once he got to any footage, he cataloged any guests going onto and off the ship, loaders, tagged potential gear and miscellaneous other items that they could contain, creating an inventory, and a crew as he went.
JNAProductions
Calix learns the following:

-Ibex has a solid crew, consisting of himself, the four women (two of which currently on guard) that are all armed with short powerblades, two men of an unassuming stature, and an ogryn who spends most of his time on the ship.
-He has had three visitors to his ship outside the crew in this time period, civilians by the look of them. There are records of them going on, but none of them leaving.
-Several boxes have been added to the ship and several have left. They were unmarked.
MrAbdiel
 "Forgive the barging - we will make an appointment, if necessary." 

Igor, of course, has no expectation of making an appointment.  This is a trick he has learned - you can violate someone's residence or workplace for immediate answers so long as you sounded somewhat convincing in your apology.  Typically, they would prefer to answer your questions immediately so you didn't return, rather than arrange on the spot for a second visit.

 "We are expecting soon to make a significant delivery of livestock to the  Crimson Heart  - but I was expecting a much larger vessel.  Is there some mistake?  Does it have a... companion cargo hauler?" 

The swordsman loads his question with a tone of exasperated disbelief - an invitation for Dockmaster Dawson to match that wavelength by complaining about the  Crimson Heart  and its irregularities, if any existed.
JNAProductions
"..."

He's silent a few moments, before letting out his own sigh of exasperation. "By the Emperor's light, it's livestock now? He has to vet everyone who does anything with the ship, fine, that's well and good. But the deliveries, all sorts of nonsense that's hard to track down, and now he wants livestock? How much?"

One of you gives the number.

Dawson's eyes bug out. "A thousand? What is he  doing ? Why is he doing? Just... So many questions. To answer your question, no, there's no companion vessel. Just the  Heart  herself."
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes pauses after giving the figure.  "Is there somewhere else we should make delivery?"  The young Hospitaller did her best to sound equally exasperated. Social situations weren't her strong suit.

Mercedes cast her eyes down to the hanger down below.  "The cattle are to be delivered alive. They will also need to eat and perform other natural functions." 
BelGareth
Calix focuses on the extra personal, pulling face shots of each one, and running them through the database to get positive ID's, he then focuses on the boxes, where they are located, and if there were any active pict's of them now. He even goes through the servitor logs to see which units have accessed the ship and which ones have handled the boxes, he then checks each unit routine logs for anything abnormal, and tracks down the ones who moved the unmarked boxes.

As he does, he sends a small squawk to his ad-hoc team members com's  "located extra personnel, identifying now they still remain on the ship, also some unmarked boxes going onto and off the ship, locating the boxes removed from the ship now, and reviewing servitor logs." 
JNAProductions
Dawson places his head in his hands. "I'll figure it out. I have to. When are they arriving?"

 
The boxes are inside the ship, which has its own camera system, inaccessible from outside. Looking through the logs of servitor handling, it seems that within a week of handling the boxes, each servitor was decommissioned. Reasons listed vary.
BelGareth
  Boxes, boxes, boxes.   he thought to himself, as he narrowed his focus on them even tighter.

He dismissed a whole section of data that became invalidated, and decided to follow the grabbit trail of where these boxes came from, and what was in them. He tries to find the dates of when the boxes were loaded, getting pict images of each, trying to go back even further to see who ordered the loading of the crates, looking for anything, any abnormalities...who loaded the boxes, or gave them to the servitors, and who ordered the decom of each unit.
MrAbdiel
 "Tonight, supposedly.  But there's no way anyone's stuffing a thousand cattle, dead or alive, onto that thing. There must be some mistake - does he have some attached address, in your records...?  Maybe a... tremendous warehouse, or something similar?  If we turn up and flood your dock with a thousand loose animals, it's going to be hell for everyone." 

Iago's lip twitches slightly at several points, when he talks -  there's, anyone's, it's .  Working alongside Astartes, speaking the high gothic and the formal low gothic of many serfs, has burned all the contractions out of him.  Truncating words feels forces and unnatural to him; though he doesn't expect that will be perceived as a 'tell'.  It occurs whether he is telling the truth, or not!
JNAProductions
The boxes were securely handled-from their arrival, they're accompanied by Ibex or one of his crewmembers. They were not tolerating any slipups, leaving no evidence as to what might be inside from the current batch of data.

 
"He often gets shipments in from a city near the port. He's commandeered a farmstead building at the outskirts-that's probably the place to go."
MrAbdiel
Igor glances to Mercedes - the farmstead is something to start with.  Something that didn't involve committing speculative violence against a crew of power-blade wielding all-female guards to get on the ship, for the privilege of being beaten to death by an Ogryn.

 "That... Well, a farm sounds much more like where one would want a thousand cattle.  Can you give me the co-ords?  Maybe we can sort this out before you end up thigh deep in bovid dung, and we all lose our jobs." 

Hoping the dockmaster has to go to a ledger of some kind, he is keen to cast his eyes for a moment over any exposed pages, or data slates - hoping for some sniff of information about, perhaps, what visitations the account has authorized, or declined.  At the very least, to know by site the receptacle in which they might seek that information in a more clandestine manner later.
BelGareth
Rage almost overtakes him, his augmented combat-brain, and reflexes began to take over in instinct, and he almost ripped out his hardwired connection, Envy would be mad at him, the skin grafts for his port was still red and raw from the last replacement. He narrows his focus, dismisses every scrap of noosphere data with a haptic wave of his hand, and disconnects with a sigh. What a waste of time.

Maybe the others had better luck, he takes a moment to orient himself, and takes off to meet them there.

  "Waste of time"   he says as he finds them and approaches.   "Any better luck?"  
JNAProductions
Unfortunately for Igor, Dawson runs a clean office. He does shuffle through a drawer, but there's no way to lean over and look without being incredibly obvious. He pulls a folder out, and reads out the coordinates. "Need me to write that down for you?" he asks, already reaching for a pen. He scribbles them down, in neat, concise handwriting, and hands you the paper. "Good luck. I think we all need it."

The two of you cast one more look around the office, trying to take in anything of note, and exit, finding Calix searching for you.
Lord Ruby34
 "Coordinates for a farmhouse."  Mercedes said.  "But it was something he commandeered since getting here."  If nothing else, they would at least be able to honesty say that they had helped the general with her duties.
 
"We should probably take a look anyway. Even if there isn't anything of note we can confirm it as the place of delivery for the general." 
MrAbdiel
 "With a small portion of fortune, we will not find it swarming with power-bladed guardians and constant surveillance.  We know so little yet we dare not formulate theories... much less those that expose us to danger."
 
There is a pause as he looks at the other two.

 "...Do... either of you possess a groundcar?" 

It had been a short enough walk to the dock from the General's office; but going this far out would require transportation... ideally with no paper trail.  But as to his question, a negative answer will force Igor to employ his - a battered, inglorious grey wheeled oblong which trades flash and mechanical excellence for four seats, a large cargo trunk, and big wide tyres suitable for unsealed rural roads as well as the broken and cracked inner city kind.  The tyres are the only thing of real value on the machine - with the exception of its longsuffering machine spirit which is the mechanical equivalent of a greying draft horse who might, at any point, cross the threshold of being  too old  for such work.  When loaded in, he takes a moment to leaf through a battered refidex to know the way to the co-ords, and then they're off.

The mirrors, too.  The mirrors on the car are as suspiciously clean and cared for as the tires are; the former aspirant's natural instinct to mind his surroundings, especially for pursuers, active even here.
BelGareth
Calix's cybernetic enhancements hummed softly as he accessed the internal network, attempting to establish a communication link with Envy, his trusted associate. The binary language flowed effortlessly through his neural interfaces, a symphony of data coursing through his enhanced mind. His expression, or lack thereof, contorted into an awkward semblance of a frown, a crude approximation of the emotions he was incapable of experiencing.

The binaric cant was sent with precision, his words carefully chosen to convey the necessary information concisely.   &lt;Interrogative: We are in need of transportation for 3 to a nearby bovine factory.&gt;   His transmission carried the sterile efficiency of a machine, lacking the warmth of human speech but laden with the urgency of their task at hand.

Calix's mind briefly pondered whether his interruption would disrupt Envy's ongoing activities, but he swiftly reassured himself that she possessed superior multitasking capabilities. His own augments were primarily combat-focused, leaving administrative tasks as a secondary function. Envy, on the other hand, excelled in the realm of coordination and logistics.

As he awaited Envy's response, Calix's focus shifted to the data streams flowing through his visual augmentations. Sensitive sensors scanned the surrounding environment, analyzing the slightest variations in temperature, electromagnetic fields, and atmospheric composition. His mechanical senses were attuned to detect potential threats or anomalies, providing him with an unparalleled situational awareness.

While his external expression remained stoic and unchanging, beneath the surface, Calix's mind whirred with the intricate calculations and analyses that defined his existence as a Mechanicus magos. Every interaction, every transmission, was a precise cog in the grand machinery of his purpose.
JNAProductions
 &lt;Response: No resources locally available. Find your own way.&gt; 

Envy has large pools of resources, but they're not concentrated near where civilians live. Something about "Radiation poisoning" and "Industrial noises" and "Machinery accidents" make others antsy, so just to avoid the hassle, she keeps them isolated or by military bases.
BelGareth
 &lt;roger roger&gt;  he responded in his small unit vernacular, he felt slightly embarrassed at resorting to the skitarri cant, and waited for the admonition of Envy, but it never came. Magos Envy must be busy.

  "I do not have access to anything nearby."   he says in his flesh-voice   "Query: We can acquire one with the Inquisitor's authority?"  
Lord Ruby34
If there was a true emergency the Mother Superior  might  let her requisition an Immoliator, but Mercedes was pretty sure that this didn't count, so she shook her head no in a silent answer to Igor's question.
MrAbdiel
 "No, no.  We hardly want to raise eyebrows from the Inquisitor if we don't have to, let's just... take mine.  It's not registered in the city's civilian arsenal, which is usually a help.  As long as we don't get pulled over by a local provost." 
JNAProductions
You locate and enter the old, beat-up, but still well-maintained vehicle. It starts without more than the usual amount of trouble, and you set off for the farmstead.

It's not hard to locate, though you've nearly an hour of time with nothing but the sounds of the road and each other's company. The home of the farmstead has one of the powersword-armed women visible through the window, though only to Calix's keen ocular senses. He quickly alerts the other two, though, letting them know of her presence behind the curtains. Coming into the farm, it's... Peaceful. Simple. A farm of wheats and grains, with none of the troubles of the wider world.
MrAbdiel
Igor rubs his stubbled chin at the report.

 "...Just one, then.  Easier to distract one, than two; but still.. any interaction we have with her will put a target on us when she reports back.  I don't suppose either of you has a... knock-out grenade, or some kind of subdual device..?" 
BelGareth
Calix alighted the beat up vehicle with a raised eyebrow, but shrugged and got in any way, he immediately bought up a schematic of the local area, and calculated the distance to the farmstead and noted his systems were in need of some maintenance. As he meticulously conducted maintenance on his cybernetic systems, a sudden surge of memory data flooded his consciousness, unbidden yet vivid. His cortical circuits hummed with the recollection of a past combat engagement.

In his mind's eye, he found himself amidst the chaos of a battlefield, surrounded by the clamor of gunfire and the acrid scent of burning promethium. The memory etched itself vividly, revealing a moment of confrontation with an imposing heretic leader. Calix's transonic weapon blurred with deadly precision, effortlessly cleaving through the heretic's defenses as if they were mere illusions. The clash of blades resonated in his mind, each strike resonating with sickening efficiency.

With a surge of adrenaline, Calix remembered the satisfaction of a successful mission, the righteous zeal that coursed through his veins as he served the Omnissiah. The memory faded as quickly as it had come, leaving him back in the present, his maintenance routine now completed.

Taking a moment to reflect, Calix recognized the importance of such memories. They served as reminders of his purpose, fueling his commitment to eradicating tech heresy and protecting the sanctity of the Machine God's teachings. With renewed focus, he continued his duties, his mind now honed with the memory of past victories, ever vigilant in his service to the Omnissiah.

Coming to, his noosphere was alerting him of the presence of a swordsman here as well, he quickly informed his companions in his flesh-voice.

To his companions' suggestion   "Query: why not just kill the guard?"  
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes shook her head.  "If we kill her, her disappearance will be noted. The inquisitor may well find out we were asking questions."  Mercedes began rummaging around in her medical kit.  "But I have some general anesthesia. It's injection only through, so we'd have to sneak up on her. If she's not augmented it should render her insensible within fifteen to twenty seconds." 

Mercedes frowned and continued.  "But it doesn't erase memory. She'll remember that she was knocked out." 
JNAProductions
You have limited time to either continue past the home or park. While simply driving past the home won't raise any kind of suspicions, coming back or parking might.
MrAbdiel
If they killed her, they would be crossing the Rubicon - and without knowing why.  If they drugged her, they would leave her with the knowledge she had been incapacitated, and only a miracle of coordination would mean she would not be able to identify it was them.  The situation was awful - they had unquenchable suspicion, but not enough to act on... neither with the moral conviction that they would die doing a righteous thing for the Throne, nor that they would escape reprisal.

All they had, as far as assets went, was that they were two degrees separated from the Inquisitor - it was credible they could be here seeing about the delivery of cattle.  But that, itself, would not be enough to get them into the house.

And the farmhouse was coming up, now.  The guarding woman - a death-cultist?  Or a mere professional bladeswoman? - would notice if they looped back.  The time had come for a quick decision - one his partner in investigation had taught him, and one he didn't look forward to employing.

He speaks quickly, and with a tone that suggests there will be no time to offer further explanations or ask questions.

 "Brace yourselves against the seat in front and the console.  We were coming out here to see if this was where we needed to deliver the cattle once acquired.  But my unreliable vehicle threw a belt, and now I'm bleeding.  You are both going to impress upon the guardian, for the sake of the emperor, to let you inside for a moment to scrounge what you need - mechanically and medically.  Here we go." 

And then he jerks the wheel as it wrestling with it, and the grey, battered, longsuffering groundcar veers off the road at its moderate speed and into the ditch beside the cattle gridded entrance to the farmhouse's yard.  Hopefully his allies have braced themselves appropriately.  But Igor himself braced himself more specifically, with full intention over the wheel.  Done properly, the ruse could result in a nose bleed and a black eye.  Last time he was required to do it, it produced a broken nose and orbital fracture.

As long as there was blood, and Mercedes and Calix were canny enough to lie about what medical and mechanical  things  they might need to gain from the Inquisitor's farmhouse, then it would be worth it.

The car tilted into the ditch; and with a world-ending crash and a hailstorm of tempered glass, they crashed.
JNAProductions
After giving just a moment for his companions to ready themselves, Igor sends the vehicle tumbling. It turns over once and slams into the edge of a drainage ditch. Mercedes and Calix makes it out with bruises and a few small cuts, but Igor himself is launched threw the front window. He turns his head just enough to avoid slamming his nose back into his skull, but can feel the nasty bruise already forming at his temple. He can also feel the blood dripping from a couple of lacerations.

Igor is, if need be, ambulatory, but he's hurting for sure.
Lord Ruby34
This was a terrible plan, and Mercedes hated it. The probability of an accidental minor injury becoming serious in a land vehicle crash was far to high for comfort. Intent to bruise oneself could easily become an actual broken leg, or broken skull. Igor could accidentally disable his shooting hand, or the crash could be worse than intended.

Still, she didn't have a better idea. So Mercedes tucked her medical kit safely under the passenger seat, out of obvious sight, and braced for impact. Thankfully, the damage to herself hadn't been worse than expected, and the martian looked fine, or at least as fine as an augmented body usually looked. Mercedes threw off her seat belt and rushed over to Igor to give him a quick examination. Thankfully, the wounds weren't debilitating.  "Lean on me. Pretend it's worse than it is."  Mercedes hissed under her breath, and helped the man to his feet. The difference in stature made supporting him awkward, but she had been trained to render aid to subjects ranging from Ratlings to Ogryn, so it wasn't unmanageable.

 "Wounded incoming!"  Mercedes shouted as she approached the farmhouse with Igor. Calix would have to take care of the actual reconnaissance, because Mercedes intended to be  very  distracting for the next half hour or so.
JNAProductions
Mercedes sees the slightest of movements from the window, behind the curtain.
Calix's keener optics see the woman moving within the house, somewhere deeper.
Igor sees red.

The noviate drags Igor to the door, with no reply from within. She tries the door, and finds it locked.
Lord Ruby34
 "In the name of the Emperor!"  Mercedes yelled while knocking on the door.  "My companion has sustained injury in the service of his Most Righteous Inquisition. I need access to this place for medical supplies and space to use them!"  As she spoke Mercedes intentionally used the voice that she had reserved specifically for annoying her sisters-in-training who had earned her ire, a high, piercing sound that her sisters swore could piece ceramite.
JNAProductions
There is no reply. The house may as well be empty, and you'd suspect that to be the case, were it not for what you saw earlier.
MrAbdiel
It's easy for Igor to pretend it's worse than it is.  It  feels  worse than it is.  He had intended to crack his face on the steering wheel, not launch himself through the windshield; but that's the thing about crashing your groundcar - it's not a skill that tolerates a lot of practise.  He carries his scabbard in one hand while he is helped to the door... but the non-response is troubling.

He grunts.

 "...Funny.  She saw us coming; heard the crash... now feigning absense...?"   He leans against the wall with a steadying wheeze.   "Nothing to do now but breach, and apologize from behind the kitchen counter when the bullets start flying.  You do it, I think my hip's dislocated." 
Lord Ruby34
 "That's why you don't crash a groundcar!"  Mercedes hissed. And he was probably expecting her to relocate his hip for him too. Insanity.

 "In the name of the Emporer, we're coming in!"  The door looked like solid oak, possible to bust down, but not easy. Mercedes was significantly stronger than most women her size, but it would still probably take longer to bust down than she wanted. So instead she drew her revolver, took a half second to aim, and blasted the lock right off the door.
JNAProductions
The lock shatters to pieces, and a small hole is blown into the door itself. It swings open, inwards.

Inside, the house looks to be about what you'd expect from a farming home-though perhaps much neater.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes quickly scanned the entry hall for booby traps before bringing Igor inside.  "Let's find you a table to lie on."  Mercedes said, loudly as she headed to towards what appeared to be the kitchen. Hopefully Calix had been able to get out of the car undetected while she and Igor had being doing their mummer's routine.
MrAbdiel
 "It's alright, it's alright.  It's just... painful.  I can walk on it.  Probably not dislocated."   He winces and forces through the pain, demurring from the table, focusing instead on his task ... which rapidly became figuring out where the guardian who was here before went.  He casts his gaze around.
 
"...What-... Where is..?" 
JNAProductions
There's a table in the kitchen, clean of anything save for its tablecloth. There is still no sign of the woman you know to be here.

Outside, Calix moves with great care and subtlety, scanning for the guard.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
I'll control Calix for the rest of this scene, but afterwards, Envy will call him back.
 
Lord Ruby34
 "The table is right there."  Mercedes intoned, her voice overly patient, as she helped Igor onto a seat. Actually laying down would be foolish.   "Keep a hand on your weapon."   She whispered.  "It doesn't look like anyone is here. I'm going to look for something to set that leg. We can figure out that cattle shipment later." 

With that, Mercedes took the opportunity to begin walking about the first floor. If she was found she could say she was looking for the bathroom, and she was, but also anything incriminating in plain view. She still had some hope that the woman would come down to talk to her, but that hope was dwindling fast.
MrAbdiel
From where he sits, Igor occasionally sucks a breath between his teeth.  It wasn't so much acting like he was in pain that was difficult.  He  was  in pain.  It was the suspension of his instinct to hide the pain, to display no weakness to a galaxy that constantly craved weakness, that was the trick of it.  The years he spent as an aspirant at the Chapter Fortress taught him to prepare for a life as one of the Emperor's angels who knew no fear.  To suppress his pain; to push past his limits preparing for the day when the divine augmentations would rely on that instinct to carry him surging into martial supremacy the likes of which had catapulted humanity to the galactic summit of power.  But all that hadn't worked out in the end.  The years following, as a chapter serf, taught him humility and smallness and the skill that was deriving satisfaction from secondary glory - preparing the hand that holds the blade, even if he did not deal the killing blow himself.

But the last couple of years had taught him more - that righteousness required tactics there were not glorious by any stretch of the imagination.

Deception.  Negotiation.  Sometimes... even retreat.

He could do this.  He could let himself be a little inglorious, if it meant figuring out what, in the light of the throne, this inquisitor was up to.

His eyes - very good, but not superhuman - scanned around the kitchen, looking for some kind of trapdoor or seam into which the guardian might have vanished...
JNAProductions
The home is large enough that the woman has plenty of space to abscond to, even without a specific hideyhole. Mercedes finds nothing of particular note, save that the bathroom is entirely clean, just like the rest of the home-meticulously swept clean of any dust, grime, or anything else that would gussy up the house.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
 (1d100)[ 91 ]  For Mercedes spotting the lady.

 
 Spoiler: 1-40 
No sign of her.

 
 Spoiler: 41-60 
You spot some slight movement towards the bedroom.

 
 Spoiler: 61+ 
You also hear what sounds like a window opening.
 

 

 

 
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes grabbed the first aid supplies from the bathroom and headed back to Igor to begin patching him up. There was little to recommend the first aid kit. It contained few of the medical supplies that Mercedes was used to, and what it did have was below the standards of the Sisters Hospitaller. She began whispering to Igor as she began diagnosing what injuries were actually serious.  "I didn't see anything, and she's still hiding. What now?" 
MrAbdiel
 "We've come this far.  You start at that end, I'll start at this end.  Maybe he left a note about... his expectations for the cattle." 

Wincing as he hobbles to the next room, he begins seeking something, anything, to confirm or deny his ill feeling about Ibex's activities.

 
 Spoiler: OOC: 
Time to split up and search the house, I guess!  First one to find the blood pentacle wins a coke.
 
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes headed towards the bedroom, following her ears instead of her eyes. She kept her hand off her gun, but still near it as she moved.
JNAProductions
Arriving at the bedroom, Mercedes sees fluttering of the curtains-the window is closed, but something put them into motion.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Test for Calix.  (1d100)[ 21 ] 
 

Not long afterwards, you hear a girlish scream from the front door. "What happened?" the woman yells.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes rushes to the window and opens it before looking down, her revolver drawn and concealed beneath the window.
JNAProductions
"Who are you?" she screams up at Mercedes. The woman is dressed in a voluminous cloak, with durable, well-worn and practical garb on underneath.
Lord Ruby34
 "Who are you!?"  Mercedes yells back, fully committing to the bit.  "We were here to arrange a cattle shipment for the Inquisitor!" 
JNAProductions
"I live here-what the hell are you talking about? And who's going to get my door fixed?"

Calix is nowhere to be seen.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes didn't believe her. Not for a moment. A farmer would trip over themselves to open up the door at the mere suggestion of the Inquisition, and it was too clean by far. Even her sisters, paragons of faith and devotion that they were, wouldn't keep a home this clean. This wasn't a place that was lived in. Mercedes strongly considered simply shooting her. Instead she holstered her gun and vaulted out the window. She wasn't going to let this one out of her sight for a moment, and as long as they were both outside Igor and Calix had plenty of time to investigate.
 
"I knocked!"  Mercedes yelled.  "If you don't want a hole blown in your door, answer next time!" 
MrAbdiel
Sucking it up and stomaching the pain, Igor gets about searching double-time.  No secret doors in the kitchen or living area - perhaps the bedroom would yield something... And if not, atleast he was in earshot of Mercedes covering his efforts just below!
JNAProductions
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Appreciate Abdiel popping into PMs to remind me. Apologies too for the delay!
 

The woman cusses at a normal voice level, and goes into the home.

Igor is, to his knowledge, currently in a position where he could hide from her, with some effort.
Lord Ruby34
As the woman attempts to move towards the door, Mercedes continues to stand in her way.  "I'm not done with you!"  She yelled.  "You failed to answer a request preformed in good faith by the name of the inquisition! You will answer now for your insolence, or be summarily judged!"  
JNAProductions
"You've no authority! You're just some kind of loon who broke into my home," she retorts.
Lord Ruby34
 Good.  Mercedes thought.  Keep arguing with me. 
 "A loon!"  Mercedes yelled.  "You disrespect the entirety of the Adeptas Soritas with every word that drips from your venomous tongue!" 
JNAProductions
"Out of the way. This is my home!" she says, trying to push her way past.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes, despite being slight in stature, is not easy to push around. She caught the woman's hand and proceeded to twist, starting the sequence that would lead to a full joint lock. If the woman was truly a farmer, Mercedes could right this off as an overabundance of zeal. And if she wasn't she'd be compelled to prove it right here, right now, or be forced to the ground.

 "You will answer for your impertinence!"   That probably wasn't too over the top. Many of her sisters would have responded with even more violence.
JNAProductions
The woman drops to the ground, helpless in Mercedes' grasp.
MrAbdiel
Igor can hear the altercation escalating.  The woman seems passionately sincere - which is unfortunate for Igor and Mercedes, since it provides them with nothing at all to go on.  Slowly losing confidence in their objective here but desperate to make the pain and loss worth it (the walk back to town alone was unpleasant to contemplate), he pushed on seeing some anomaly... and especially, where the sword-bearing woman must have gone.  If she had leaped out a window, quickly changed to civilian garb, and begun her petition with Mercedes, then she had at least left her sword behind somewhere.  Surely.

...Surely?

If the bedroom will bear no fruit, he will start checking for closed and especially locked doors as a matter of priority.
JNAProductions
There is a hidden compartment Igor locates in the base of the wardrobe. It's currently empty of loose objects, but does contain a charging port.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes maintains her grip on the woman. She hadn't really expected that to work, but she was committed at this point. The charade might as well play out. The young sister started screaming at the woman to repent her sins against the emperor.
MrAbdiel
Igor puzzles at the secret compartment.  Maybe this wasn't the Inquisitor's secret hold-out - just somewhere he had an operative waiting, keeping an eye out.  Perhaps the swordswoman had snatched the goods from this compartment, along with whatever was charging, and fled at the risk of discovery.

...This wouldn't explain why the woman at the door was in such hysterics.  It wouldn't be possible for an inquisitorial agent to secretly stand sentinel on the porch - she must be lying, at the very least.

He takes a despairing, quick circuit of the house before heading back to the door to regroup with Mercedes.  He leans against the doorframe with a wince he only has to half-fake, and when he gets a discrete moment of contact with her eyes, shakes his head - no heresy detected within.
JNAProductions
As Igor makes his way to the door, another vehicle pulls up to the home. This one is better-armored, sleeker, in much less shabby appearance.

Ibex himself steps out, and looks at the scuffle taking place at the door. "Mercedes," he says calmly as he approaches. "Let go of her."
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes felt a sharp surge of panic. The last thing she had expected was to find the inquisitor himself here, but now that he was there was no denying him. Mercedes immediately released the woman with a hurried  "Yes, Inquisitor,"  and bowed low as the man got out of the car.
JNAProductions
The woman stands up, then faces Ibex and bows as well.

"You have two sentences to explain your presence here," Ibex says, his voice full of menace.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes remained bowed down. " We were looking for a place to deliver the cattle you requested. It does not appear they could fit on your ship, Inquisitor."  That was all true, at least as far as it went. Mercedes carefully omitted the fact that the entire idea had been a pretext for snooping around his home.
JNAProductions
"Mm," Ibex lets out. He paces around Mercedes, like a predator stalking its prey. "Adora," he addresses the woman.

"Yes sir!" the woman says, snapping to attention.

"Where is their mechanical ally? The... Sicarian, I believe," Ibex asks.

"Incapacitated, sir. Unlikely to be dead, though," Adora responds.

Ibex nods, muttering "Good, good..."
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes kept silent, but her eyes darted left to right, taking in any possible threats. She had to force herself to avoid going for her gun. They still didn't have anything more than mere suspicion that the Inquisitor was a traitor, and the right to execute on suspicion alone was his.
MrAbdiel
Igor gives a pained bow when Mercedes does.

 "My groundcar - there was an accident as we pulled up.  It... threw a belt, maybe - I cannot say.  Calix was... attending it.  Incapacitated...?  Are we under attack?" 

The obvious conclusion - that this woman  Adora  had incapacitated him, hovers in his mind.  But why would she do so, to a martian fixing a vehicle?  Had she only held off doing so to Mercedes and Igor on account of the fact that they approached in a pair, and thus were a combined threat?

 Witch. 

Igor blinks, as the headache from the crash strobes in his brain.  As it does, the indoctrinated instinct prickles at his neckhairs.

 Witch. 

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand - the movement keeping that hand close to the hilt of his sword, coincidentally.  All they had, even now, was suspicion.  But suspicion had served him well before...

 Suffer not the Witch. 
 Suffer not the Witch to live. 

He restrained the impulse; a fine fibre of temperance holding back a monstrously violent impulse as a fine metal hook restrains the snapping of a ursid-trap.

 "We... do not have a way to contact you for clarification, Inquisitor Ibex.  But a farm property seemed the likely place to deliver your beasts.  Is that... what you wanted?" 
JNAProductions
Ibex is silent for an uncomfortably long period of time. He looks to Adora, who is standing at attention.

"These... beings have intruded on inquisitorial property. See them to their just desserts, Adora," Ibex says.

"Yes sir," she replies, and turns to face you both. She draws a small powerblade from her cloak.
MrAbdiel
The flash of the small blade catches Igor's eye; and suddenly, all of the ache and soreness from the crash vanishes from his sense of his self; drowned in an adrenal tidalwave.

 Short blade.  Draw through Hawk.  Step through Forester, inverted.  Step through Lamplighter.  Set at Hawk. 

Igor had wondered if Ibex's cadre of female bladeswomen were death cultists; he had heard of such cults before, though never encountered them.  In another situation, he might have been excited to cross blades with one - though that lunatic brand of Imperial radicalism do not appeal to him, merely the reputation for excellence in combat.  But what she was, at the very least, was a killer with a short blade.  And what Ibex was, at the very least, was a man with something to hide and who did not prefer to do his killing with his own hands.  The woman had a short blade, he observed in the molasses slow moment of its revelation as his pupils dilated, and he had a long one.  If she got inside his guard, he was dead.  And Mercedes, as much as he knew, was a gunfighter - she might well suffer similarly.  This was the threshold - past this moment, they were dead, or at war with an Inquisitor in service of the Inquisition of the Emperor of Mankind.  The notion of being an enemy of the Imperium even in a technical sense was so revolting to Igor that, as his hands flew to the hilt of the sword poking up over his shoulder, the words drilled into him from his time at the Chapter Keep came to his lips; bursting out in a roar from a time when he had prepared to serve the God Emperor of Mankind directly, and answer to no one but his brother Astartes.

  "No Pity!"    The sword was snug in a quickdraw-sheath - the sides of the scabbard were magnetically held closed, loosely enough that a hard draw would permit the blade to push through them without doffing the scabbard entirely.  Shining Templar steel sang from its rest and into downward chop at the bladeswoman ahead of him. He did not expect to strike her - not quickly, not at the outset.  She was in motion when he began; all he could do was use the reach of his blade to force her to abort to a backstep.

  "No Remorse!"   The tip of the sword whicked off the tops of a few blades of grass at the nadir of the blow before he stepped forward into a wide horizontal slash, dominating the space and seeking to force the bladeswoman back again.

  "No Fear!"   Another step, and an upward stroke of the blade; now close enough to menace both Adora and Ibex with its keen edge, crackling to life with the muted voltage of its arco-shock capacitor.  At the end of the combination, he was armed and his sword had returned to the hawk guard - held above him like an executioner's axe and daring anyone to step into its reach to be hacked down.

He was no traitor to the God Emperor of Man.  He would die before quietly accepting the insinuation.
JNAProductions
Adora's eyes go wide-not in fear, but in anticipation. She lunges against Igor, but despite the man's injuries, his blade meets hers in a shower of sparks and a jolt of energy against both of the swordsfolk. She moves to cut his legs out from under him with a sweep of her own, but Igor performs a small hop and keeps the pressure on her.

While the melee is beginning, Ibex merely sighs, drawing an archaeotech pistol out.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes did  not  want to fight an inquisitor. Even setting aside that merely resisting was an act of treason, inquisitor's were almost uniformly dangerous combatants. But Mercedes knew she hadn't committed treason, she knew that the inquisitor was hiding something, that he was somehow dangerous. And she refused to submit.

So when the woman came forward, Mercedes faded back, trusting Igor's protection. Her pistol was already in her hand, though she hadn't consciously drawn it. It went off with a retort like thunder on the mountain, in the pattern that had been drilled into her since the first time she had ever held steel in her hands. Two shots, lightning quick, fired towards the inquisitor's chest and another towards his skull.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Sorry that took a bit, I haven't attempted to actually write action in some time. I'm not happy with what I've got, but I didn't want to delay anyone any longer.
 
JNAProductions
The bullets strike home.
The Inquisitor flinches, bleeding, as his pistol goes wide and blasts part of the doorframe into oblivion.

By the time Mercedes is able to take proper stock, the bullet wounds have already closed, and Ibex is leveling the pistol at her.
MrAbdiel
Igor's keen eyes map the combat as it unfolds; trained senses taking in the periphery of the combat even as his primary focus is on the deadly duel.  When Mercedes bolt pistol barks three times and the Inquisitor jerks back, he knows there is no coming back.  Ibex is dead, and if the God-Emperor is merciful, they will be able to piece together a-

Ibex is not dead.  He straightens up, and the bolter's hideous wounds in his body and  head  are sealing in observable time.

 Witch.  Mutant.  Enemy. 

As another fan of sparks from clashing blades and fields splashes over him, he cannot be certain of the source of the miraculous recovery.  Certainly some witches are capable of knitting flesh - but there was no ozone in the air, no warpish  snap  of manifestation.  Was Ibex a mutant?  A psyker of such power and subtlety he is beyond detection?  Or something even worse?

For the immediate second, he needs to survive, and see Mercedes survive likewise.  Ibex is tracking her with his strange pistol, and Igor never quite mastered  the iron veil , the near paranormal instinct for superior swordsmen to unconciously track the movements of an enemy's wrist, fingers and firearm sufficient to use the flat of the sword to almost presciently intercept bullets and bolts.  He had taken the early hypnoindoctrination foundations, and he could strike thrown weapons and arrows from the air with reasonable regularity - no more than one or two per second, but still - but he had never been able to catch a bullet or lasbolt. The blade did not need to travel faster than the round - just faster than the trigger finger - but he could hardly trust his life and Mercedes' to that desperate bid.

Instead, he leans on the advantage he has: with the longer blade, he is slower than Adora, but he dominates the space and can force her movements more easilly.  With driving, menacing blows rising one after another, he weaves his blade in a figure-eight and tries to keep his combat with the bladeswoman between Ibex and Mercedes, and uses his superior reach and footwork to try to open avenues of fire for Mercedes only when the Inquisitor's henchwoman is obstructing his aim.
Lord Ruby34
[I]Mutant? Heretic![/I The thoughts flash through Mercedes head almost too quick to process. A rage rises in her, both horrified and righteous. Ibex was a traitor, a threat to the whole Imperioum, and it was her duty to see him dead. She wished, in that moment, that she was a full sister, entrusted with holy power armor and bolter, able to take battle directly to the treacherous inquisitor. But she was only a novitiate, her final oaths unsworn, and armed with a pistol and carapace.

She dodged instead, rolling behind Igor while a holy war song coming to her lips unbidden. If her revolver couldn't do the deed, perhaps Igor's blade could. Mercedes knew she was an exceptional shot, her marksmanship had always been praised as a gift from the emperor, and she would have to trust that gift here. As she her roll, Mercedes steadied her hand, aimed, and fired, all in less than a fraction of the second. Her bullet when soaring towards the Swordswoman's left ankle with a heavy retort.
JNAProductions
Adora, reacting with augmented (or perhaps something more sinister) reflexes, kicks her leg away from Mercedes' bolt, and towards Igor's knee.

But her attention, fully on the two of you, doesn't account for Ibex's aim. He fires again, trying to hit Igor, but instead leaving Adora with half her torso missing.
MrAbdiel
The swordswoman's leg clips his knee, and he drops to it in a jarring instant.  The woman is fast, and skilled, and he brings the shock blade across his body hoping to defend himself before he can rise - but then the shot from the Inquisitor's pistol annihilates his ally in a shockingly callous execution.  Igor had expected his shepherding of the woman into the firing line to put off Ibex's shooting all together.  Now it was just the two intrepid investigators against the Inquisitor who wanted them dead.

Igor gets his foot under him just as Adora's body is toppling forward.  As the power blade slips from her fingers and the light from her eyes, Igor lets his weapon go to a a one handed grip, and uses the momentum of his rise to grab Adora's topping corpse on shoulder and palm and heaves it back at Ibex.  It's faster to go through and over than around, and with no desire to end up like Adora, he races to close the gap and engage the Inquisitor in melee, where it will be harder to bring that pistol to bear!
JNAProductions
Adora twitches, still trying to aid her master even in death.

Ibex cusses as her body is flung at him, but another shot leaves nothing left of Adora but her blade and a few motes of dust. But in that time, Igor has closed the distance, and is able to bring his blade to bear.
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes circles, keeping her nearly empty revolver trained on the heretic inquisitor. Part of her was eager to join Igor in the melee, but caution won out. They didn't know what other abilities Ibex might have, and a shot with her gun might be able to give Igor a second of surprise if the man suddenly attacked with psychic power. Mercedes also took a moment to sweep her eyes over the area, looking for anything that might be of use.
MrAbdiel
Closing on Ibex, Igor can't afford to delay.  His tactics shift instantly, the opposite of his approach with Adora.  He could not afford to let her close; he cannot afford to let Ibex establish distance to point that weapon at him, or Mercedes.  The shock field snaps out of life with an audible crackle and Igor closes his hand around the blade's generous ricasso, choking up on it and shortening his reach.  He strikes out with the pommel again and again at the inquisitor, bashing towards his face, trying to provoke the natural response - to cover the face, blind oneself for a moment, then try to bring the pistol to bear.  If he falls for it, Igor will be ready to slash at that gun hand - either to break the weapon, or shed some of the fingers holding it!
JNAProductions
Igor's blow is met with an explosion. He's sent flying, Mercedes to a lesser extent, and Ibex appears to be simply gone-reduced to chunky salsa.
Of course, the impact is nothing to be trifled with. Igor's barely conscious enough to observe Ibex's death, while Mercedes has enough wherewithal to drag Igor into the (now partially ruined) home for cover before collapsing.


 

You wake up in a tent. Peering around, you see it's set up near the house you fought at. There's a medic with his back turned, rummaging through a hastily set up medical stand.
MrAbdiel
Igor's eyes snap open long enough to understand his immediate setting; and then for the pain to settle in.  Only the length of his sword's difference between him and Ibex - and the inquisitor was... what... killed?  Maimed?  He can barely recall.  But he can see from both eyes; his hearing is not a ringing drone.  Before alerting the medic, he feels around for a weapon -  if his sword is nearby, or atleast something heavy, before he croaks for attention.

 "Hey.  Hey.  What happened?" 
JNAProductions
There's something heavy-the central post of the tent. Maybe not usable as a weapon, but if hostilities ensue, it could cause a distraction by pulling it down.

The medic looks over. "You're awake! That's... Something," he says. "There was an artillery strike ordered. Just mortar shelling, really."
Lord Ruby34
While she dragged Igor to cover the thought that kept repeating in Mercedes's head was  This can't be it.  Ibex was a dangerous heretic, an inquisitor, some kind of mutant. His death had to have been a trick. Victory was never this easy.

When she came to, those same thoughts continued to fill her head, only to be replaced by other concerns. Who was the medic, was she still armed, was Igor seriously injured? She hadn't had time to check before collapsing.
JNAProductions
Neither of you are armed-your weapons are not visible, and certainly not on your person. But you aren't shackled or restrained in any way.
MrAbdiel
 "Mortar shelling..?" 

He risks painfully sitting up to see his surrounds better, when the medic doesn't seem hostile.   "On a farm?  From where? If you're responsible for tending out injuries, I'm grateful - but I'll need more information about how we came to be here." 
Lord Ruby34
Mercedes's head was ringing enough that she was inclined to believe that the mortars were shelling  them .  "What happened to Ibex?"  The question escaped Mercedes's lips before she could even think about the indelicacy. She probably shouldn't have asked about the weirdly demonic inquisitor by name, or even alluded to the fact that she knew him.
JNAProductions
"Probably still waiting for his cattle," the medic says. "Haven't seen him since-"

"That's enough, soldier," General Zodden's voice comes in, followed shortly by the woman herself. "Wait outside the tent, please."

The medic looks at her, with a slightly incredulous face, but follows orders. "Yes ma'am."

She squats back on her legs, so she can look you both closer to the face. "I wasn't going to let you risk yourselves without some backup. I had a small recon team trailing you. After Ibex's woman found and took out Calix, I told them to hold a mortar at the ready, and to shell the area if anything truly suspicious went down. They took a recording of the fight-it's blurry, but decipherable." She stands up. "I had to watch it three times to really get what happened. Using his own woman as a tool-that's what Inquisitors do. But that... that infernal regeneration? From a bolt? That's not natural. That's not holy."

Zodden sighs. "That being said, we have only one video of evidence for the moment."
MrAbdiel
Igor takes this all in, quietly.  Now that the adrenaline is clear, the possibility of being executed by an Inquisitor as a traitor to the Imperium seemed bigger, and more awful some how. And Calix... They hadn't exactly been friends, but they had trusted each other.  The loss of the Martian was troubling, too; a darker spot, in the shadow of that larger looming threat.

 "Thank you, General. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't done what you did.  But the ram has touched the wall, now. I guess we don't know if Ibex crawled off and put himself back together somewhere, or if he's still doing so; but if your men didn't find anything in the farmhouse, our only other option is to get back to that spaceport and take that guncutter by force. If there's any answers to what Ibex is wrapped up in, it'll be in there." 