text: "Go," you say, as Drake nods his head thankfully, running over to the counter and beginning to gather various pills and jars of balm from the tables, searching through drawers. Suddenly, you hear a hissing sound behind you.
  > keep watching Drake
  You watch as Drake continues searching for pills and balms, before drawing a shotgun and aiming for your head. You flick your wrists, sending the shotgun across the room. You bind Drake's hand, lifting him up and flying him towards you.
  
  "Please, I'm sorry, but I can't be captured. They'll kill them!" Drake asks pitifully.
  
  "Them?" you ask.
  
  "Yes. Kyros has my two children taken prisoner aboard this ship, my two baby girls. If I don't report to him every hour, he'll hurt them!"
  
  "I've read your report. You don't have children."
  
  Drake's look of terror and desperation slowly morphs into a grin.
  
  "Alright, you got me. Shall we go?"
  
  You snarl, smacking Drake into the ground. He lets out a pained yell, before you raise him up again.
  
  "Give me one reason not to kill you," you say.
  
  "Fuck you. Just go ahead and kill me," Drake laughs, spitting blood out of his mouth and giving a grin, his teeth bloodied.
  
  "Is that your final answer?" you ask.
  
  "You need me alive to pilot this ship, dipshit," Drake says.
  
  "Perhaps. But I could easily peel off your skin, turn your bones to dust, char your flesh and twist your limbs off."
  
  "You need to happy, Karth," Drake grins. "My jobs to navigate the ship, make sure we're not lost in the Warp, boarded by daemons or make sure we don't come out of the Warp and straight into the sun. If my life's not worth living, such as if someone peeled off my skin, turned my bones to dust, charred my flesh and twisted my limbs off, I'd just make sure this ship goes straight into a star."
  
  "Just break him. The powers of the Warp will send you where you need to go. You don't need a Navigator. Tear this rat apart!" Meliodas says.
  
  You growl, walking out into the hallway, Drake floating after you. You quickly reach an elevator, tossing Drake inside.
  > head to the war room
  The elevator doors open, revealing another of the endless hallways that pack the ship. A half dozen bodies, naked and covered in blood, with swords clutched in their hands, lie on the ground, next to two badly diseased, rotting soldiers with hellguns lie on the ground.
  
  "Huh, Bloody Claws vs Black Rats. Which ones are with you?" Amadeus asks.
  
  "Shut it," you say.
  
  "Because I've heard rumors that Kyros wanted a march on Terra. That would gain up the Bloody Claws' favor, but I doubt those rumors are true."
  
  "They are," you say.
  
  "Don't tell him anything! I can practically taste his sliminess! He'll use any information he has against you," Meliodas chides.
  
  "Huh. If you had told me that earlier, I wouldn't have tried to murder you," Drake said. "I know an attack on Terra's as stupid as everyone else does."
  
  "Shut it," you say.
  
  "OK, OK, got it," Drake says.
  
  You step over the corpses, and begin heading toward the war room. You spot a pair of Bloody Claws in long leather jackets, blood covering their faces, acting as a war-paint, arching with lasguns. You clench your hand into a fist, crushing their two heads together. You continue walking. Soon, you reach the door to the war room. You knock sharply on the door.
  
  "Yo, who's there?" a voice you don't recognize answers back.
  
  "Karst," you reply.
  
  The door swings open, revealing the scarred, shaved soldier from a few days ago.
  
  "Shit, Karst. You got Amadeus. Good job, get inside," he says, pulling you inside. 
  
  You enter the war-room, to see various leaders working. Olive and Elizabeth are going over a map of the ship, Durge talks to a trio of badly diseased, rotting soldiers who shouldn't, to all you know of biology, be alive. Elios smokes a lho-stick in the corner, while reading a datapad. Elios notices you immediately, smiling.
  
  "Drake Amadeus! Look who we've captured," he grins, walking over to you.
  
  "Elios. You're..."
  
  Elios punches Drake in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him up. 
  
  "I'll have him escorted to the cells, honey," Elios says to you, before turning and dragging Drake off. "By the way, Johhny boy was looking for you."
  
  "Who?"
  
  "Me," the shaved, scarred man says, extending his hand. "Captain Jon Hates, 22nd Istanford Regiment."
  
  "What do you need?" you ask, shaking his hand.
  
  "We're moving out to capture a nearby armory to better equip our men. I could use a Psyker to edge the battle my way. You in?"
  
  "Sure," you reply.
  
  "Do you need to re-equip or anything?"
  
  "No, I'm good."
  
  "Let's bounce, then," Captain Hayes says, grabbing a lasgun from a nearby table and pushing open the door.
  
  You move together along the hallways. The area around the old war room is sparse, having already been secured by the mutineers. 
  
  "So, did you join the regiment before or after they turned traitor?" you ask.
  
  "I was there since the very first battle. I remember deployment. Here I was, fifteen, a lasgun clutched in my hand. The planet we were landing on was nothing but fucking jungles and rivers. We were supposed to wipe out the fucking rebels in the jungle, but they were fucking everywhere. But rebels, they're not shit. We could've taken out the rebels. Command didn't tell us there were Orks there. It turns out, we landed a few weeks after WAAAGH! Dazik hit. So we were caught in a three-way clusterfuck between Orks and guerrillas. That wasn't even the jungle. I swear to God, the Jungle was fucking sentient, and all it felt was hate. The beasts attacked us in our sleep, The bugs made us sick, it never stopped raining, the mud jammed weapons and the fucking enemy would not surrender. I was made Sergeant in two weeks. Two fuckin' weeks. I was fifteen, leading soldiers to war. We just kept fighting. Reinforcements didn't fucking come, aid didn't come, the wounded were left to die with us. The Imperium didn't give a flying fuck about us. The Emperor didn't. Everyone said it. The rebels were apparently supporting their war machine through smuggling and manufacturing drugs. Apparently, they used a lot of the plants on the world to manufacture combat drugs and narcotics and shit. Me and a few guys wiped out some smugglers, leaving us cold, tired and with a shit ton of drugs. We started targeting smugglers after that, the entire regiment. The men got a bit of pleasure in their lives, we used the combat drugs to increase our effectiveness, and fuck it, the smugglers were supporting the enemy! What was the issue?!" 
  
  "Is he capable of shutting up?" Meliodas complains.
  
  Captain Hayes takes a long drag from his lho-stick as he steps over a mutated space marine's corpse, stepping on it's huge, elongated tongue with a squelch.
  
  "So there we were, fighting on this world. One day, Commissar Denton talks a bullet to the throat. The dude was a nice fucker, solid, never did nothing wrong. He was happy to let us be, as long as we gave him a bit of puff and secured him a few complimentary visits with the local whores. The dude's killed, and we're sent a new Commissar. The first day we had him, we lost fifty men. Twenty from a suicidal charge he made us take on an enemy machine gun position we would've just wiped out with artillery if we had been smart. The other thirty? Kids. Kids, around the age I had joined. This had been seven years since we deployed, seven years of constant warfare. By now, I was Captain. Captain Jon Hayes. Sure, the kids fresh off the dropships were scared. We let them hide during the battles, 'til they were ready to fight. That fuckin' Commissar called them cowards and executed them all. We returned from the charge to find he had murdered our brothers. So, we iced him. Shot the fucker apart. Three weeks later, an Inquisitor showed up. Have you ever seen an Inquisitor?" 
  
  "No," you admit. 
  
  "Just strangle him to death. Just do it. Shut him up. I've always been the most pragmatic one here, but it's just best if you trust him," Meliodas says.
  
  "They're fucking scary. He showed up, and said that we were under investigation for heresy. The drug use, fucking native prostitutes, anti-Imperial beliefs, and killing a Commissar. He told us to surrender, so he could route out which of us were innocent, and which weren't." 
  
  "What did you do?" you ask. 
  
  "No! Don't ask questions! He'll just keep talking, you fool!" Meliodas cries.
  
  "We killed him. We killed all the loyalists there, stole our drop-ships and headed to the skies. We stole a frigate, and got the fuck out of their. Soon, we got picked up by Kyros. We made a deal. People think Kyros' forces were all Chaos worshippers. Bullshit. Many of us were mercs, anti-Imperial rebels who just found ourselves with similar interests. A few of us were corrupted, but most didn't."
  
  You arrive at a hastily set up barricade set up by Guardsmen. Two heavy bolters sit on the top of a dozen sandbags, with a dozen guardsmen crouched behind it, including a massive Ogryn, a mutant, gigantic, muscled subspecies of man, who holds a massive automatic shotgun.
  
  "What are we doing napping, boys? It's early," Captain Hayes says, ducking under a bullet.
  
  "We're pinned down. There's like a dozen Space Marines down the hallway in the ammo depot," one of the soldiers says. "We've kept them from mounting a charge with the bolters and Frag grenades, but we need to resupply. We need more men."
  
  "Do you see who this son of a bitch is?" the Captain says, motioning at you. "That's Karst, the psyker. He'll tear the enemy a new asshole in their soul so big we'll be driving a Baneblade up it. Understood?"
  
  "Sir, yes, sir," the men reply.
  
  "Well Karst, care to give us a display of what you do?" Captain Hayes says, motioning towards the Space Marines cloistered down the hall.
  
  You march forward, psychic shields forming around you to bounce off their bolter fire. A marine wielding a flamer appears in the hallway, snarling in anger as he lets out a burst of flames. You narrow your eyes, flooding the man's mind with images endless bugs flying through the air and devouring his flesh. The marine screams, spraying fire all around him in an attempt to kill the monsters that only exist in his mind. You make a fist, crushing the flamer's fuel tank. The tank explodes, incinerating both it's operator and the men closest to him. You raise both your hands, fire and electricity running through your body as you let out a roar, filling your enemies mind with fear and dread. 
  > Three Weeks Later...
  The mutiny's early success slows, and the quick takeover that had been planned turns to a painfully slow crawl forward. Two thirds of the ship falls under command of the mutiny, although the bridge and several other key features are heavily fortified by Kyros forces, who stubbornly hold onto the ship despite the odds falling ot of their favor. They seem to be attempting to force a stalemate, by keeping the fight going until the failure to be able to restock the ship's supplies leads to mass starvation among the slaves and mutants vital to operating the ship, massive power loss from lack of fuel and an inability to make repairs to the ship.
  
  The Bloody Claws are almost wiped out to the last man, their forces taking huge casualties in suicidal charges again the Black Rats, One Eyed Crows and Shrieking Harpies as Rebecca Staine attempts to wipe out her siblings for their betrayal of both her and Kyros. Although they are defeated and fail to take the heads of any Staine siblings, their fury and rage amplified a thousand times over by thee betrayal, fills them with the might of Khorne, and they reap a terrible harvest of skulls and blood, crushing the might of the Black Rats, One Eyed Crows and Shrieking Harpies. Rebecca Staine herself was killed in the fighting, her body retrieved from atop a pile of corpses, all of whom she had slain.The diseased, the mutated and the beautiful bodies of these war bands fill the hallways alongside the blood-stained Khornate warriors. Alongside the regular burden of facing he rest of Kyros' forces, the three rebelling Staine siblings have had their forces greatly diminished. 
  
  While the Staine siblings' losses is a military failing for the mutiny, on a personal level it's a clear benefit. Their loss has put your Tribals, Goliaths and Gladiators as the most powerful force of the mutiny closely followed by the 22nd, so you'll have a lot more bargaining power among the mutiny leaders after the ship is taken. 
  
  You sit in the war room, Cain, Olive and Castus in front of you and Fay by your side.
  
  "The Assault marines were stuck in the hallway when we fell upon them. It was a tremendous victory." Olive says. 
  
  "We kicked ass," Castus says, grinning.
  
  "Terrific," you say. "Anything else to report?" 
  
  "Nothing of interest. We've been having some issues regulating drug use among the gladiators, especially combat drugs, but that's an issue for after we capture the ship," Olive says.
  
  "Alright. Cain?"
  
  Cain steps forward as Olive and Castus leave.
  
  "Yes?"
  
  "How did your assault go?"
  
  "It went well. We secured another hanger," Cain grunts.
  
  "Do we have the ships?" you ask. 
  
  "We got a lotta them. Not sure what types," Cain says.
  
  "I know what types, I had a gear-head from the 22nd," Fay says. "There are squadrens of Fury Interceptors, Starhawk bombers, Lightning Strike Fighters, Thunderbolt Fighters, Marauder Bombers, Valkyrie Transports, Vulture Gunships, Morrigan Devastators and Ranger scout ships."
  
  "Why even ask what types? You can't tell a craftworld from a Hiveship, let alone anything else," Meliodas complains.
  
  "Do we have pilots for them?"
  
  "Pilots for a lot of them, not all. We lost a lot of them in the initial fighting. We'll be able to replenish our supply of pilots from any high-tech worlds we come across, or we can train those we have, but short-term, we're out of luck."
  
  "It's fine, we'll deal with it," you say. "We'll have the ships outfitted to strike at Kyros' areas."
  
  "No, don't be stupid. Most of Kyros' territory is deeper in the ship, so we couldn't do damage against them. Those that are along the surface either are almost ours and damaging them would be far too much work for us, or vital to the ship's function and can't be damaged," Fay replies.
  
  "Fuck, good point. Make sure they're secured, though."
  
  "Already on it," Fay nods. "By the way, the Staine siblings want to talk to you."
  
  You nod, turning and walking off towards the table where the Staine siblings are arguing. Elios quickly notices you and motions for his brother and sister to hush.
  
  "Hello there, baby. We need to talk about the state of the ship."
  
  "What about it?" 
  
  "Well to be honest, the ship's falling apart," Elizabeth says. "Serious damage has been done to the vessel. The forces under our command are incapable of repairing it."
  
  "I assume you have a solution to that," you say. 
  
  "Of course," Elizabeth says. "I just don't have many good ones."
  
  "What do you have?"
  
  "We could attempt to patch it up as best we could, and try to make a Warp Jump to the nearest port. That will likely get us all killed," Elizabeth says.
  
  "I could... help with that. Navigate with you a bit," Meliodas says.
  
  "No," you reply, to both Elizabeth and Meliodas. "We're not doing that."
  
  "Well then, we need Magos Cern," Elizabeth says. "She's holed up in the engine rooms. If we can capture her, she'll be able to not only repair the ship, but to help us get through Kyros' heavier defenses, and finally take this ship once and for all."
  
  "You want me to capture Magos Cern?"
  
  "Correct. Her position is heavily defended by his Skitarii guards, servitors and Tech Priests. All attempts to get in have been crushed by their heavy defenses."
  
  "How do we capture her?"
  
  "Getting into her chambers with a small EMP should disable her cybernetics. Then, you'll just be able to transport her back to us, forcing her to shut down the defenses and transporting her into our clutches. Then, she's ours."
  
  "What state is the ship in if I can't capture her?"
  
  "Without the ability to do repairs, the ship's macro cannons and such will work, as well as the sensory equipment. We won't be able to communicate, travel through the Warp, or travel anywhere, to be honest."
  
  "Ah. I guess I won't fail, then. How can I get through her? Am I expected to break my way through her defenses my myself?"
  
  "I do belief I've found a path to get a small team inside, though."
  
  "Go on," you say.
  
  "Well, Magos Cern's forces expel waste waste. Sluge, poisonous gases, that kind of thing. They're still human, though, so there's a large pipe that expels excrement. It's large enough to fit a man."
  
  "You want me to crawl through shit?" you ask, shuddering at the thought.
  
  "Yes," Elizabeth replies.
  > say "No. And that's final."
  You're crawling through shit.
  
  Despite your pleading, your reasoning, your refusal, your threats to skin people alive and show their souls what true suffering is, you're crawling through shit.
  
  You crawl along the pipe, your skinny frame still struggling to move forward. You doubt anyone other than you or a starved slave could've fit in here. Realistically, it was the only logical to choice to send you in.
  
  They made you crawl through shit, though, so fuck them.
  
   "OK, I should be close enough, I should be close," you say to yourself aloud, repeating it like a mantra.
  
  A surge of shit comes down a pipe, splashing the stream of excrement, sending some into your open mouth. You stop repeating the mantra aloud. You close your eyes, trying to block out the smells. And the tastes. You reach your hands up after another few minutes of crawling, finding a hatch. You quickly force it open with a burst of energy. You rise up in the air, slowly squeezing yourself through the hatch. You collapse out of the pipe, falling onto the ground of a large room. You look up, seeing dozens of pods with glass displays, filled with a clear, colorless liquid. Inside, dozens of identical men, all with the same shaved head, float, pipes connected to their mouth and nostrils.
  
  ""What the fuck?" you say.
  
  "They clone bodies to turn into Servitors," Meliodas explains. "The joys of the Imperium!"
  
  You hear a door open at the end of the room, and quickly step behind the pod. You peer out of the pod, seeing a spider-like Techpriest who's little more than a pincer, half a torso and a head attached to eight robotic legs. It walks along, looking at each pod momentarily, before moving on.
  > wait for the Techpriest to pass
  You wait patiently, as the Techpriest goes from each pod.
  
  "Yes, yes, these are fresh. No mutation noted," he says to himself. 
  
  You continue waiting, as time passes. The techpriest endlessly goes from pod to pod, and you feel like you're going to pass out from boredom. Eventaully, the techpriest leaves the room. You wait patiently, counting to a hundred after the techpriest has left, before you know he's left.  You walk over to the doorway, putting your head against it to listen for anyone on the other side. You hear nothing, so you open the door, revealing a barren hallway. You try to remember the directions that you were given, walking along. You keep moving, before you see a squad of Skitarii moving quickly towards your location. You don't think they've noticed you. You look to either side of the hallway. There's a door on either side, the first being open, and leading into a room that seems to be filled with electronics and machine parts. There's also the room behind you.
  > head into the open room
  You step into the room filled with machinery, closing the door behind you. Now that you're inside, you get a good look at the room. A large, humanoid robot stands there's, it's armor removed to reveal lots of wiring and mechanisms. You know that robots are a rarity, and all allowed by the Imperium are non-sentient. The extensive wiring and quick reaction would imply that this robot is an attempt at sentience by the rebellious Techpriests who have abandoned the Imperium's belief system. The robot's eyes blink a bright red, as it slowly, and more importantly loudly, begins raising it's arm to point at you. You need to shut it up quickly to avoid detection.
  > wait for the robot to stop making noise
  You wait for the robot to stop, but it keeps pointing at you, and even begins making a bright beeping noise. Suddenly, the door slams open, and the Skitarii are upon you. They attack, swarming over you with drills, buzzsaws, claws and teeth. You attempt to fend them off, but you're in close range, outnumbered and unprepared. You last a measly few seconds.