Once everyone was aboard the shuttle, the old craft began to move. The noise was enough to tell that its machine spirits were angry, but it rose from the deck nonetheless, and the acceleration jerked everyone to their seats as the shuttle flared to life rushing out towards the planet below. To those who were used to rough flying, it was nothing more than yet another shakedown, but there was a reason why some old shuttles earned the same name as some of the dropships deployed for military missions.<br/><br/>It was proving its name as 'vomit comet' as one of the sick-looking crewmen that had been in the shuttle before their arrival already grasped a bag put above his head on a shelf, barfing loudly to the bag. At least the plastics were strong enough to keep the smell inside, as he held the bag tight after losing lunch. The shuttle shook and shifted, its structure actually trembling as the engines heavy noise could be heard. Nothing beyond the shuttle's own noise though. Not until they hit atmosphere and began their rush down the sky through the air thick with black clouds. Piercing the cloud coverage, the shuttle's shell was already heating, but its systems were holding.<br/><br/>Several shaky minutes later the shuttle's acceleration began to cut down noticeably, and finally, it came to a short hover followed by a creaking noise as the landing gear protested against the shuttle's weight.<br/><br/>"Welcome to Archaos. Get the fuck out of my ship." The pilot's voice spoke up in the communication gear was tired and angry, but the crew members began to unstrap already, getting out of the shuttle's seats to move to the pressured hatch, the hissing noise as it opened also bellowing in some foul-smelling air.<br/><br/>Outside the shuttle they were met with a smell resembling that of burnt breakfast. The air was thick with it, but there were people moving about all around, with two other small crafts in the hangar. One of them a partially broken shuttlecraft, another looking like a collection of weapons bolted together on a slim hull of an attack craft, it would have been generous to call the crude craft a true 'fighter' but it was definitely something else.<br/><br/>There was a set of several elevators nearby, four of them obviously large enough for not only personnel but vehicles to be brought through, but a handful of old service-elevators remained as well. From the red tape covering three out of the six of those smaller elevator doors, it seemed this place was in -better repair- than some, especially odd with the lack of servitors.<br/><br/>Before they had a chance to take in more of their surroundings they were interrupted by a hacking cough belonging to a thick-bearded man with a red robe, and a metal plate across the right half of his skull complete with a cybernetic eye. "Names?" The man asked in a dry voice, holding a datapad in his hand.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">With even a common lore (Tech) its easy to say that the fighter-craft in the hangar is not something the imperium would use. It doesn't look alien, but it doesn't look like something that Cult Mechanicus would agree to service either. For that matter, only human workers are present, no servitors at all.<br/><br/>On that note, I'll stop with 'free information' on the OOC, but please use the "Spoiler" tag for any OOC including rolls where necessary, please. Longer OOC chat is welcome in the OOC thread.</div></div>