IT IS THE 41st millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.

YET EVEN IN his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperors will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bioengineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants – and worse.

TO BE A man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

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Soaring above the sweltering heat of the industrial complex of what is called Gunmetal City, a number of unmarked matte black zeppelins are anchored above the hive. Even from this distance one can hear something similar to roaring waves of oceans on planets where these were not covered by the landmass of hives - however in this case this is the sound of gunshots. Tens of thousands of guns discharged within the city.

You have been either directly or indirectly ferried from other hives on this world or offworld to this location on this day. Alone or in small groups you are led into an amply sized meeting chamber by servants or servitors. The chamber is puritanical: A hardwood table at the middle and matching hardwood chairs around it. Pitchers with purified water, tasteless ration bars in bowls and glasses are placed across the table. There are windows on two sides granting the curious a breathtaking view of the volcano city.
This message was last updated by the GM at 20:35, Wed 08 Apr 2020.

Whilst the form and dimensions of a Hive was familiar to Zethina, it was the people... the society... that ultimately set her at edge. The calcified essence of humanity that flowed through every nook, cranny, and avenue of such mega-structures that held so many variations that her mind could only begin to scratch at the surface of what weakness and decay might linger beneath. In what seemed another life, such had been the primary focus of her sacred duties; to root out that which threatened the edifice of His Law and to purge or correct it before it could be jeopardized. It had been a duty that she had failed in whether due to a faltering in her devotion to Him on Terra or a failure to absorb some critical lesson presented by the Abbots, she had failed in that duty and had paid the due penance.

She had, however, succeeded in a way that so precious few had. She was proven innocent of the crimes ascribed to her and allowed another opportunity to serve. She was not without scars for that opportunity as a woman was built with years and unmade in minutes... but she was given a second chance to serve in enforcing the holy strictures of His Law and preserve the sanctity of his dominion. It was that chance that had brought her here and saw her seated at the table in the crisp blacks of an Arbitrator's uniform.

Innocence had proved something but it still meant nothing without the scaffolding of duty and action. That, in it's own way, left her anxious by the same token. The feeling of standing upon the precipice of either renewed service or a further durance before her with no knowledge as to which way the Emperor's hand would guide her.

Morrigan move silently into the room, moving to the far corner of the the observation deck after grabbing a few ration packs and placing them in spare pockets and begins to nibble on one, her experiences have told her to always have a few extra ration packs available.

She looks out over the sprawling hive, growing up on Dusk she did not see this many structures, nor so large of ones, and especially floating above them, she felt a momentary twinge of vertigo as she looked down at the colossal metal mountain. She saw the others around the room and wonder just what her new life would bring, her blue/grey eyes scanning everything to try and get a semblance of the future.

Txaran similarly entered quietly but the fact that he was wearing the signature red robes of the Mechanicus without his posture, poise or even his flesh seemingly marred made him a very loud and curious anomaly despite lacking the telltale rasping sound of the respirator grill so many other of his brethren had.

He had small but notable nods directed to each individual in the room that even barely acknowledged his arrival and spent the rest of his immediate time taking note of the room itself and whatever else was inside it.

As the three stood in the room they would soon hear the sound of someone whistling, which would steadily grow louder before being joined by a metallic clinking sound that seemed to keep some sort of disjointed rhythm with the whistler. As the whistling seemed to reach it crescendo the doors open and a man walked in a smile on his face as he looked around seeing the three other silent figures in the room "Is this the right room or did I walk in on a wake?" he asked as he took a good moment to look at the three each one seeing that though he seemed to be smiling his eyes showed the look of a man that had seen and done many terrible things. Once he had taken the visual measure of everyone he walked in the metallic clinking accompanying him as he headed for the table. The man was a guardsman to that there was no doubt as he wore his flak armor proudly almost like a parade uniform, on one shoulder was the symbol of the medicae darkened by combats but still visible. On his other shoulder was his unit symbol a large white X with what looked like a large sword running vertically through the center and what seemed as a autogun crossing through the X horizontally. As he made it to the table as chose a seat he reached to his waist and appeared to take off his belt before pulling a large medical bag off and placing it on the table next to himself, it was then that the source of the metallic clinking was seen as two large and impeccably clean saws hung from the side of the bag "So what brings you three here?" He asked as he reached for the bars in the bowl infront of him.

Words felt wrong in this place as they awaited the pleasure of their betters but she would have been rude to retain her silence now that someone had spoken. If one bothered to pay much attention to the details of her particular aesthetic, they'd see a few contradictions readily apparent. Mostly in the contrast between the badge of her office as one of the Adeptus Arbites and the branding of one tried and convicted, only recently marred further by the brands of redaction upon her left cheek. Other little scars here and there standing out against pale skin implying a long experience with interrogation techniques on both sides of the equation.

"I'd suspect much the same as all of us. Awaiting our handler to arrive and set us about our appointed duty." Zethina offered in a tone and diction that spoke to a proper education without much left of any of the softness of one not used to conflict or misery.

In the following silence an elderly bald man entered the chamber with a data slate in hand. He sat at the head of the table. He turned off his data slate and motioned those at the windows to sit down.
"Sit down everyone. We have grim business to attend."
After everyone took their seats he introduced himself.
"For those of you who haven't met me before my name is Inquisitor Sigismund Otto Maria Josef Gottfried Henrich Erik Leopold Ferdinand von Nassau-Jungfreud. I am not one for formalities so you can call me as Inquisitor or Leopold."
He waited for a moment than continued.
"Before we begin the first order of business: For the benefit of your fellow Acolytes would everyone please introduce themselves and their background? You can be as verbose or taciturn as you wish."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Tue 14 Apr 2020.

 The man with the medical bag coughed as he stood pushing his chair back some "Well since I seemed to be the last one in besides you Inquisitor Leopold I'll start." He said as he looked at the group "My name is Morrison former corpsman of the Caledonian Grey Rifles 43rd infantry division." He said before looking back at the Inquisitor "You probably don't remember me Inquisitor Leopold but I was about this deep in your guts on Gorta 343." He said as he pointed about half way down his forearm "You were injured in an ambushed they used a device that knocked out anything using electronics so I had to work on you using the old ways." he said smiling as he lifted his medical pack for a moment the two large saws jingling as he lifted and placed the bag back down "I'm a decent shot but like most Caledonians I'm better the closer I get to the enemy, so don't expect me to be far from the front." he said with a toothy smile as he reached behind his back and produced a large axe in a scabbard placing it on the table "I prefer using a shotgun but still carry my guard issued las for when I need it, but trust me it's still almost like new." he said before sitting down and opening the ration pack infront of him.

Standing next the man with the sharply tailored beard spoke up, "As befits my robes you are aware of my status as one of the Mechanicus." came the smoothly spoken words that weren't expected out of one of the Cogs that routinely sound more like a broken ventilator than a human being, "Former attaché to the 87th Naval Infantry Shock Troopers based off of the Shadow of Mardochois, I am Txaran Aguirre."

Glancing to the others he added, "I was kitted out with a long-las that I am familiar enough with and gifted a Necromundan Sting when I parted ways with them that I am equally familiar with in use.  I will serve us as many of my brethren do tending to our equipment with the proper care and should needs arise conceal that knowledge from others by packing away my robes if needed.  The vagaries of proper discourse and diplomacy require many oddities at times."

There was only so much she was inclined to disclose of herself as even in absolution, she was still marked according to the nature of her sin and failings. Still, Zethina Calder stood when it was her turn to do so in the order of things.

"Trooper Zethina Calder previously assigned to Precinct Fortress Secundus of Scintilla. It would be Master Jansen that was responsible for my inclusion in this... cell after the investigation and subsequent purge of House Raukos for high crimes of treason, criminal affiliation, heresy against the Throne, corruption and sundry. The... previous charges against my name and honour cleared by the codified rites and procedures of both the Holy Ordos and the Adeptus Arbites. Whilst not blessed with the gifts of the Omnissiah, I am a capable operator of conventional ground craft and comfortable with most las and ballistic weapons commonly available. I am also trained in basic close quarters and riot suppression combat tactics in addition to more traditional investigative procedures." the woman offered with every air of discipline and self control one might expect of the grim lawmen of the Adeptus Arbites. A polite nod given towards Txaran whilst invoking the name of the Omnissiah whilst otherwise keeping hands clasped rigidly behind her back and shoulders squared.

Her comments regarding the clearing of charges against her name naturally drawing the eye to the brands of one convicted and then found innocent upon her left cheek. The scars, marks, and lingering ailments of one who had experienced the harsh grinding of the gears of Imperial Justice in full all the more apparent for that admission.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:23, Thu 16 Apr 2020.

Being the last one to introduce themselves, she remained seated and said "Morrigan Nemhain, formerly of the Fifth Duskite Light Infantry Regiment, decent in a close quarters gun-fight."

Those nearest her will feel a little nauseous at being in her presence and even a dislike of her despite not knowing anything about her. She toys with the ends of her hair, hoping that she would be somewhere else.

Maybe it was only now that Morrigan had drawn attention to herself that the sensation stirred in Zethina's gut and some deeply seated instinct stirred to life in the depths of her brain... But she felt a certain aversion to the other woman and was grateful she felt little appetite for the ration bars laid out before them all. Still, she was a disciplined creature and would do nothing to make issues for those who had found her innocent and secured her freedom from penal colony and labor that would have been her eventual death. That did little to keep her jaw from clenching ever so slightly, however.

"Excellent my friends, thank you for your introduction. And thank you Mr Morrison for the ... intrusion, it was damn fine work. I believe all of your skills will be of use - the obvious and...the hidden ones as well."
He said fiddling with his dataslate. Then he continued.
"As far as I know none of you are from this city nor have you any major connections here. This is usually a drawback but in the current case it is beneficial. You will soon see why."
He put down his data slate on the table and waved a control wand around. An ancient servitor with incense burning on its shoulders entered the chamber and slowly walking around handed a data slate and a cognomen to every Acolyte.
The slates contain general information on Gunmetal City located in the rulebook as well as general information on the Fanes of Gunmetal City section of IH. See the description of cognomen in IH.
"On these slates you will find generalized information on Gunmetal City. Read them, familiarize yourselves with the information and use it to fulfill your mission in the city. For those unable to read ask your peers to show you how to activate the machine spirit to read text aloud. The cognomen identify you as citizens of the City and should pass you through a general scrutiny of the authorities. They also have a DNA locked setting which will show anyone looking at them that you are working for the Holy Ordos. Try to avoid using this and proceed clandestinely."
He stopped for a moment. The servitor exited the chamber.
"Your mission is a complicated matter. I recently had a fairly sophisticated team of operators and a ground contact in the "Bullets" stack of Gunmetal City or GMC. The group was directly wiped out by a targeted explosion as they landed." he said grimly.
"The operators were investigating a religious group that was reported to have sporadically started to use weapons of unknown, likely heretical designs without any further specific information. Their mission was to find such a weapon, locate the source for these and once identified contact me through prearranged channels. Apparently the ground source was made and the operators were exterminated. Any questions so far?"
This message was last updated by the player at 14:53, Mon 20 Apr 2020.

Blessed with a proper education and a sharp enough mind to make use of all that such tools might provide her, Zethina reviewed the dataslate and took some strength from the familiarity of the incense to ward off the bile that burned at the back of her throat. Her eyes tracking back and forth along the sickly glow of the digital projection before deactivating the slate with a soft invocation of the almost appropriate rites and turning her attention to the provided identification cognomen. The small device turned this way and that before being deposited into a pocket somewhere along the interior of her uniform jacket.

Her attention returned swiftly, and duly, back to the Inquisitor not long after as he began to speak once more of the task at hand. It was not an encouraging set of circumstances but suffering and adversity forged the character of a person in their service to Him on Terra.

"Has there been any opportunity to investigate the source of the explosion for an exact cause?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:45, Fri 22 May 2020.

Morrigan accepted the cognomen and the data slate and takes a quick glance at the index before placing it in a thigh pouch large enough to accommodate it

"Do we have a base of operations set up for us, or are we to arrange our own accommodations?" she asks the Inquisitor.

Morrison looked at the tablet for a moment before he rubbed his right temple sighing *Strange I don't usually get eye strain headaches this quick.* He thought to himself before putting down the tablet listening to the questions the others had "The big question is how did they know where they were meeting?" He asked as he took a sip of water still rubbing his temple as the pain became a dull almost unnoticeable constant now "And that just brings up the question of did they know they were working for an Inquisitor or did they think something else?" He added as each question seemed to add another one to the mix.

After pausing for seconds that seem to stretch into weeks Leopold answered thoughtfully.
"Excellent questions my friends."
Fist he bowed his head to Zethina.
"The explosion was likely caused by a rocked propelled grenade or high velocity rounds but I am unsure at this point. This is something you should investigate when you land in a relatively close stack." Then he bowed his head toward Morrigan. "A trusted contact named Sparrow will be waiting for you who will lead you to a safe house. And finally," he bowed his head toward Morrison. "Some of the questions you asked will be your task to investigate my friend. But the operatives did know they were working for me. I briefed them in a ... very similar room to this. I assess the malicious group they were assigned to track somehow managed to track them down. But your task is the following: Investigate the crime scene. Most of the lander should still be intact. Interview the locals if you feel that would add to the intelligence. Then... his eyes turned cold and he grimly added "track down and kill the ones responsible. Sparrow should help with your needs should something be required. If no further questions a lander awaits you."

With no other question asked, Leopold bows curtly to you all and after saying "You have your orders" he leaves.

You board your flyer - an ornate matte grey VTOL that perches below the zeppelin - you are ferried down to the surface. The journey takes 30 minutes during which you can familiarize yourself with the information contained in the data slate or ponder upon the brief Leopold gave. You can also pray to the God Emperor for salvation.

You land without problems in an unfamiliar stack.  It is a semi-disused landing pad in the lower stack level which sees less air traffic nowadays and which is dominated by huge cargo eights carrying raw materials and finished weapons within and offhive. Outside the landing pad you see the huge crowds of the hive city. Workgangs go to and forth to their fanes and quite a few local Magistratum patrols are out in the open scanning for illegal activity. Aside from a figure who sits on an empty prometheum drum the landing pad is empty.

Stepping off the VTOL Morrigan double checks the sword, knife and las-pistol are in place before taking out her scalptaker and heading towards the man on the promethium cans and says "Identify yourself."

Morrison had hopped off the VTOL and turned back to gather his supplies only to turn to see Morrigan pulling out a weapon and approaching an unknown man. Morrison sprinted over to Morrigan getting up next to her "Listen I understand your on edge and former law, but it won't help to make a scene right after landing." He said as he reached up and took hold of her wrist gently "Unless your planning on killing him might want to take it slow an simple. Don't want him going to the local bar and talking about this crazy woman that got out of a unmarked ship that landed on an rarely used landing pad." He said as he looked at her smiling his head starting to bother him again.

Zethina's equipment was all neatly stowed and arranged on her person by the time they made landfall once more but the sudden drawing of weapons on a bystander ground against her sensibilities as she stepped down the ramp. A hand moved carefully to the holster of her shotgun at her hip as a precaution as she drew closer but never drew. Everything speaking to well drilled in training and the maxims of the Drill Abbots.

"Yes, lets keep our presence as quiet as we can otherwise we'll either find ourselves buried beneath our enemies or that any lead has gone to ground and we will have failed." Zethina offered softly with a mindfulness to her voice not carrying farther than it needed to. She didn't care to be closer to the woman than she had to as her stomach turned and revulsion roiled to the fore of her mind and she was forced to swallow it down just as swiftly.

"Remove your hand or I will" she says coldly to corpsman as he grabs her wrist and she stops, her blue-grey eyes staring at him "The last team, was ambushed and killed and I don't wish to follow their example." she hisses at the older man.

"So your thinking is to make an announcement that were a bit off?" He asked as he let go of her wrist "Listen I don't know what they teach you in the arbites but in the guard they taught us about a thing called stealth, and it is not running up to random people guns drawn demanding them to identify yourself. Again unless you plan to kill him it will make more problems down the road." He said as he look from Morrigan to Zethina "But thats just my two cents as the doctor of the group so what do I know, except a multitude of ways to kill someone and make it looks like an accident." He said with a smile as he walked back to the craft "And remember one way or another you'll eventually be under my knife so might be wise to listen to me." He said as he returned to help unload anything else that was needed.

"ey my ninkers. If ya are done, good to see ya all. Sparrow be my name an ol' Leo's the game. If you catch my meaning. Don't kill each other so easily, there are plenty of ninkers to kill 'round 'ere."
Casually he popped a piece of unidentified and barely edible fried meat in his mouth and muched on it happily.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:17, Sun 31 May 2020.

"I've never been in the Arbites, that's her" she says angling her head towards Zethina "Besides our enemies have known about insertions before and we just landed a damn VTOL with no cargo, stealth isn't a viable option, neither is arguing in an undefended launch pad with little cover" she adds before walking away from the man towards this Sparrow "Morrigan, ready to move out when you are."

"Fair enough. Sooner we can get a base of operations up and our investigation begun, the sooner we can be on the offensive." Zethina agreed with a quiet note as she offered a nod towards Sparrow. Her expression making it clear enough that she did not trust the operative any farther than she might throw the man until there was something further to cement his relationship to their present master.

"If it mean's less gun pointing and yelling I agree." He said as he grabbed a duffel bag and lifted it onto his shoulder one hand free incase he had to pull a gun or his axe which was secured to the small of his back "Hope where ever we are set up has a decently sized room with a drain in the middle of the floor." He said with a chuckle as he walked over to the others.

"Lets move out before this one's shouting draws more attention" she says to no one in particular. She moves back to where she dropped her bag before encountering this Sparrow, gathers it up then moves back to the others, keeping her pistol in hand.

"Fine fine gents and gentle ladies. "
The man lazily jumped off the prometheum drum and motioned the group to follow him.
"Th' place is not too far" he grinned "but don't expect anything fancy.
His grin quickly disappeared and was replaced by a professional frown as the group exited the semi-disused landing pad. His accent changed slightly.
"I posed as the errand boy of a prometheum merchant to rent a disused warehouse a couple of blocks down, around 30 minutes walk from here. It has a couple of offices that were converted into sleeping quarters back when this stack was up and going. There is a buggy that would fit three of us conveniently and four of us inconveniently. What do you call yourselves?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:07, Wed 10 June 2020.

The streets are really crowded - maybe as expected from a hive city. People constantly bump into you then without looking they continue on their business. You trod along a wide sidewalk next to a major artery road. Junk litters the streets, vagrants burn junk in empty prometheum drums and the local manual laborers sometimes give the Magistratum a wide berth when they appear. This looks like an industrial neighborhood where some kind of petrochemical processing takes place: The smog is awful, the lingering smell of burned plastic permeates everything. Streetlights barely work and the deafening sound of cargo-12 convoys bearing the sigil of one of the Fanes often block out all conversation.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:13, Wed 10 June 2020.

"My name is Morrigan" she says to Sparrow as she gets ready to head to the warehouse, breathing through her nose so the filtration plugs took most of the fug before it went into her lungs.

Looking at the cargo-12's she tries to remember which one of the fanes it belonged to. "How much further and is this compound secure?"

Morrison walked along a smile on his face he was use to crowds, maybe not this many but it didn't make him feel awkward at all "Well he said thirty minutes and I'd bet we have been walking between five or ten minutes so probably another twenty or so." He said with a chuckle "And it will probably be as secure as we make it honestly, more then likely our best tool will be anonymity not looking to out of place." He said though right then he looked to be the most out of place in clearly guard issue gear a large duffel bag on his shoulder "Just call me Morrison, I have a last name but Ive gotten tired of people failing to pronounce it so most of my paperwork just has my first name." He said with a chuckle as they walked.

Zethina followed after the others and took a moment to consider the casual acts of offering their names. Her own fall from grace had made her paranoid and there were precious few assurances of loyalty or trust in the depths and shadows they were now expected to act in. Which only really dove tailed into the more dire lessons of her upbringing and the ultimate corruptibility of man save for the grace of Him on Terra. Still, if their enemy were so connected as to already deduce what was sent against them then the fight was already a dire one.

"Zethina." she offered as she checked the ties and bindings of her own respirator. It was a far less elegant response to the muck and pollution of a hive world but it provided a far stronger aegis against contamination of the body.

About thirty minutes later "Sparrow" led the group to a disused warehouse seemingly at the armpit of Gunmetal City or GMC as he lazily referred the hive. The large warehouse had a lower level where at least five cargo 8 or cargo 12 could park and a flight of stairs leading upstairs to a converted office. Out of the four amply sized rooms there two have been converted to sleeping quarters capable of housing at least 20 people, the third was a small kitchen and finally a common room.
Downstairs smelled like human waste and garbage with an almost dismantled cargo 8 stuck in the middle for all eternity next to a barebones all terrain buggy that to the contrary of what Sparrow said could barely fit two people, let alone four. Upstairs the kitchen had several boxes full of corpse starch rations and gallons of recycled water. The sleeping quarters were dirty and smelled of old socks but one could cherry pick some pillows or duvets that were less disgusting. The common room had a large table with a dozen chairs around it and in the middle the group could see a state of the art vox station probably capable of voxing to near orbit.

"Get yourself comfortable then gimme the plan. I see youz guys are not really the talking type."
Sparrow said upon arrival.

"It really depends on the conversation, and right now I think we are all a bit on edge wanting to get to a point of relative safety." He said as he put his duffel down at the bottom of the stairs and looked at the others "Would either of you ladies like to assist me in a good old fashion sweep?" He asked with a grin as he pulled the shotgun from the duffel half racking it to be sure there was a round in the chamber "Or would you two like to split the bottom area?" He added with a smile as he looked at Sparrow "For the moment I'd say stay where we can see you, don't want to say we don't trust you but.." He trailed off as he started up the stairs slowly seeming to look at each one incase one was rigged or just plan old.

"Talk has generally made more trouble for me than action. For now, I'll join my compatriot in a quick sweep of the perimeter and then we can sit down to discuss in full how we'll begin and approach our investigation. The trail is likely cold enough that even finding a lead will be difficult." Zethina replied as she set down her own baggage with care and drew out the length of a las carbine in consideration of the shotgun held by her compatriot. She moved through the rites of maintenance and activation with practiced care then as she slid home the charge pack. The weapons machine spirits stirring to life with that distinct whine of power distributed through it's wiring and systems that every guardsmen knew well.

"I'd avoid any splitting up unless we absolutely have to but His will has somewhat ensured that we're at a disadvantage in even that for the moment." she added with a nod towards Morrison as she held the carbine with a finer studiously away from the trigger in Schola approved technique.

"I'm more just checking for things like explosives, or maybe a vagrant thinking this place turned real nice and started crashing here." He said still moving up the stairs "If we were going to be attacked they would have done it while we didn't have our weapons out, maybe as soon as we walked in." He added calmly the threat of death becoming a numbing constant to a corpsman in the guard.

"I'd think it'd be too risky to attack the pad. Especially as they don't know if that was a covert gunship or not. Odds are we're still under surveillance." Zethina offered with a slight frown hidden behind the bulk of her respirator mask as she followed. her voice muffled but still infused with those particular tones of someone that had benefited from a full and thorough education. Which begged the question as to what she did to get her own set of conviction branding and then have it further turned over.

There was a certain care and stiffness in her posture as she moved that spoke to deeply set drilling twice over though the look in her eyes showed the will of someone recovering and clinging to a central truth. Not something that was uncommon among the combat arms of the Adepta Terra but there was certainly more to consider there.

Morrigan unholstered her scalptaker and moved into the building. She moves into the ground level, searching the main cargo area before moving to the stairs to examine one of the bedrooms. "We should find a way to reinforce the structures entry points and especially these quarters" she says before dropping her kitbag on one of the beds.

Morrigan and perhaps the others did a sweep of the building. The buggy and the vox seemed to work properly and most of the food has still not expired. The food that's expired has only done so by a couple of days so it should still be edible by Guardsman standards. With the right tools one could further dismantle the cargo 8 to somehow fortify the building but you didn't really have the right tools and according to Sparrow "our chief weapon is surprise" and fortifying the exterior with cargo 8 parts would not be useful.

If you have any relevant skills you want to roll, please do. I'll apply any modifiers and tell results.

Zethina was meticulous but between paranoia and the disquieting sensations that left her skin still crawling from Morrigan... She wasn't quite as attentive as she believed herself to be. That did not, however, mean she was unaware of her environment by the same token as even the lowest sectors of a Hive held at least some familiarity thanks to hard won experience and a dogged pursuit of truth and justice through it.

Coming back out of the furthest bunk room she says to the others "You two may want to both use the other room if you want to sleep well" then looks around the room "And we will want to reinforce this space, perhaps some sandbags if they can be found in this place for along this corridor in case of an ambush or assault, perhaps strip panelling from the the useless vehicles, if we can acquire more vehicles to strip as well that may be an idea." she adds

"Take care when reinforcing." Morrison said as he had gotten his pack from the bottom of the stairs and was bringing it up "Barricades go both ways, and honestly if they were ok with blowing up the first lot why would they pay us the kindness of attacking with standard arms." He said as he threw his pack into the room Morrigan had recommended as he looked at the others "Only thing that really bothers me is the lack of a proper medical station." He said as he looked between the two women "Don't get me wrong, you two ladies look more then capable of handling yourself but if you take a bad enough hit I'm not sure this" He paused holding up the field kit he always carried letting them see the various silver cutting utensils that dangled off it "Can do much but put you in a decent state to die in." He said as he silently prayed that if they did take a bad wound it was from a las gun and nothing that shot slugs or shells as las weapons had the uncanny property or cauterizing any wound they caused making death a little less likely.

Sparrow added some cheap advice himself.
"Y' might wanna be careful with reinforcing the walls. These ceilings are made of cheap plastec blocks from back in '03 and if you pack enough weight on it the whole inner thing might crumble. Also if you guys don't attract much attention or y' know kill everyone else -noone will come after yous guys. I don't think y'll find any sand nearby either. Perhaps some rocks. "
He smirked irksomely.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:00, Thu 16 July 2020.

"How suspicious are window coverings in this particular area? It won't protect against much but it'll at least obscure lines of sight and make it more difficult to figure out anything we're doing or our routines." Zethina offered in question towards Sparrow, engaging the man who was ostensibly their local point of contact. The less information they gave away via incidental bleed or the like... The more securely they could operate. She was not eager, after all, to fall prey to what a tech priest might dub a data leak... again.

"Thassokay. Nobody likes if people look inside their hole."
He smiled and maybe even ... winked at Zethina?

Morrison just chuckled awkwardly at the way Sparrow said that moving more gear to where it needed to be "Is there a relatively decent sized room with a drain in the floor? I'm going to need that not only for surgeries but for anyone we might need to get to know better." He said as he looked at the informant still wary of him but knowing that when it came to it he would probably be using his tools to pull information out of someone as he took them apart probably more often then when he put someone together.

Zethina had been witnessed to horrors in her time but there was still a distinct discomfort that curled down her spine like cold dread as she shifted her attention quickly to Morrison as he spoke. It was a valid question. She had to wonder as well if there was something that could be repurposed to a holding cell but she also did not wish to risk the notion of captives for longer than necessary. Her grip tightened ever so slightly then at the handle of her las carbine held at ease but ready to be swung up at a moment's notice.

"We'll need restraints at the least for that as well... How near are local markets and vendors?" Zethina added as a dove tail to Morrison's questions.

"Yea I mean" Sparrow started "you can like set up your little torture chamber in the dismantled cargo12. That can muffle out sounds I guess."
He shrugged then answered Zethina's question.
"This da hive, sista. Vendors are everywhere you look, and they can be the safer ones to be honest. There is a bigger market around quarter hour drive to the west where you could buy shit. his eyes suddenly flared up with interest "So did Big L send some dough? I'd need some to get some stuff.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:20, Mon 27 July 2020.

"No more than what we brought with ourselves. Which in my own instance is regrettably little." Zethina offered quietly with a tone that did not invite further questions as to just why that was when once considered her clear background as an Arbite Trooper. Her attention turned away from the man then towards their surroundings once more to see as to what might be done. The lack of details and access to resources chaffing just beneath the surface but her trust in the judgement of her betters and the Emperor above them restraining any comment that she might give.

"And the guard doesn't get paid very well" Morrgian says to no one in particular as she stands there "So do we get rack time first or start making updates or look about?" She asks to the others this time.

A helmeted man walked in through the gate (anybody got perimeter alarms set up?) and up to the main door, where he knocked firmly with an armored gauntlet.

Morrison was about to speak when he heard the knock "You expecting guests that knock?" He asked there contact as he reached behind his back and pulled the axe from it's sheath.

Zethina felt cold alarm course through her system at the knock. Operational compromise this early was a death sentence if such was what it was. As Morrison grabbed his axe, she moved for the weapon most familiar to her hand; a shotgun. The weapon was primed, clean, and ready the instant she drew it from her rucksack. It wasn't the shiny hardware of an on duty arbitrator but it was a tried and true weapon, made all the more so as she chambered shells with that air of someone well practiced and well drilled. All ready and said, she offered nothing more than a nod to Morrison as she moved to cover the door.

"The only other person who knows about this place is one of big L's scientist guys who does some metricitists or s'thing for the old guy. If he's wearing an old void suit he should be it. Just don't shoot anyone yet. Please? I'd have to pay a shit ton of money to the Magistratum so they look the other way."
Sparrow's voice is not really concerned.

Jaxom waited impatiently for someone to actually answer the door.

"Good then go answer and see who it is for us, because most of our responses will cost you money." He said as he made a very simple hand gesture to watch the door to the other two, if Sparrow was on the up and up about who it could be then he wouldn't be against opening the door in Morrison's eyes. If this wasn't a trap there was another mark in Sparrows favor, if it was a trap he had taken part in setting then Sparrow could best serve them as the first soak for bullets.

Unless anyone tried to stop him, Sparrow slowly and cautiously -so the ex Guardsmen would not shoot him in the back- walked down the stairs and went up to the door and slowly opened it. Seeing the man in void suit outside he motioned him inside.
-Ey Jaxy my man c'mon in. Don't shit your pants there are other people of big L's team inside. They might be a bit trigger happy.

I realize everyone's busy and all so the guardsmen can post what they want before Jaxom enters or Sparrow even goes down the stairs. I only posted this so soon to get the story moving and because I had time.

Morrigan unholstered the Scalptaker but keeps it low and moves to any available cover as their handler answered the door. Hopefully whoever it was, since it seemed Sparrow knew them, brought a few extra thrones so they could properly operate.

"Were not trigger happy, if we were this conversation wouldn't be happening." He said as he heard Sparrow talking to the person he said worked for the inquisitor "Were just cautious is all, especially with what happened to the other group we are all just a bit on edge." He said as he put his axe away having to be honest that the thought that the other team was taken out had him overly cautious but what was a man to do.

"'Sup Sparrow. Yeah, it is them that I am loking for. got word for them." Jax stepped inside, closing the door, and exchanged codes with Sparrow.
"Excuse me, can you direct me to the Bronzenbranzen Market?"
"Sorry, market is closed on Emperor's Day."
Satisfied that neither if them had been replaced by shape-shifting xenos since the last time that they talked, Jax made the hand gesture that replaced a nod when in armor towards the cell. "So who is the cell leader?"

"No decision yet on that front." Zethina offered cautiously and with a studious ignoring of Sparrow's jabs at what seemed sane and reasonable precautions, her finger easing away from the trigger well of the shotgun and angling the barrel down and clear of the door. As much an invitation to address the whole of them as they might get in the instant. Her jaw remaining set grimly and solidly as if expecting to be struck at any moment now.

"Hmm. New cell?" Jaxom looked around, the expressions on their faces answering his question for him. "Well in that case, a word to the wise. Some Inquisitors like to do little tests. Learning experiences they call them. Send a new cell out without a leader, see if anyone steps up. Do not remind them to petition for operational funds or special equipment or transport or even ammo issue. Of course since they do not want to see heretics get away because they were too far away for the cell to walk, those same Inquisitors often second a more experienced Acolyte to the cell to fill in the gaps so to speak. I am seconded to you to do a retrospective on your crash site, but let me ask you if you have done those things?"
He looked round the faces.

Morison looked confused once the newcomer was finished "So the Inquisitor sent you to look at our crash site?" He asked as he looked at the other two he was with "We didn't crash." Was all he said as he sounded a bit more cautious as he looked at Sparrow "You better tell me he just has his information mixed up or I am about to let little Miss Trigger Happy here do what she has been wanting for awhile." He said as he motioned to Morrigan.

With Morrison mentioning her and indicating their belief of in her willingness to kill anyone decided to play along and moves to be in clear view and aimed the revolver at new arrival.

In reply to Morrison (msg # 66):

"You will be the mucle then. Oh well, every cell needs muscle. No, not your crash site as in you crashed there, but rather your crash site as in you are taked with investigating it. You see the difference? Think on it, it may come to you."

He looked around at the others. "So, while Muscle racks his brain cell, would anyone else care to discuss Petition?"

Zethina raised a hand to rub gently at the bridge of her nose. Their ways were just and righteous and it was not her place to question operational protocol. She had been found innocent by their methods even if she was still guilty of the sin of failure in her given duty. Her composure recovered swiftly enough as she steeled herself and re-engaged the safeties on her shotgun, the weapon stowing away cleanly into a holster within her flak jacket.

"At least for the moment requisition beyond the resources at hand are probably not necessary. At the worst, we can make this place in anonymity and rotate bases periodically so as not to fall prey, ideally, to the same incident we've been dispatched to look into. Unless, of course, someone has something in mind for the instant?" Zethina offered with a glance towards her peers before looking back to the more senior acolyte. Her mind seeming to gauge just what to and not to disclose of her personal thinking.

"For the time being, our initial thoughts were about securing the present place where we rest our heads. From there, some review of the crash site in question to determine what, if anything, the wreckage can tell us about the means beyond what the briefing already disclosed. A Verispex would have been exceptional but we have to rely on our own means given that there isn't anyone above suspicion in the moment. In either case, failing a useful lead therein, it falls then to interrogating any witnesses that might be present. Potentially compromising but sufficient to give a lead so long as we can get a description of one person or another... Hives tend to have extensive monitoring systems as well depending on their relative scales of sophistication... Access to those would be difficult, however, as well as fallible." Zethina offered quietly, choosing the leap of faith and giving some thought to the means by which to investigate. She was still used to the aegis of her authority, however, and making adjustments towards more underhanded methods felt detestable despite her blind faith in the Ordos.

"Shit Jaxy, I cee you still have your balls of steel, brother."
Sparrow clapped his hands in the silence that followed.
"Barging in without your paper showing, like Robot Gillman himself and bringing the wrath of the Emprah on your fellow coolytes. Always an awesome way to start a party you animal you.

In reply to Zethina Calder (msg # 69):

"Fair enough. A retrospective should provide more information about the crash itself. What is our cover?"

"That unfortunately depends on if the site is still under any active investigation by local authorities... We can pose as local affiliates of the planet level law enforcement but it'd be easier for me to present as an Arbite. The issue therein is I lack the identifications to line up with the local precinct fortress but swift enough 'authority' would be enough to get most low level opinions swept aside. If we wish to divorce ourselves of any aegis of officialism... Street toughs or mercenaries looking to figure out who hit our own as the public excuse. This is a double edged sword though as may present a red flag and tip our own hand... Or, if our unknown enemy is sufficiently blinded, may merely make us out to appear as nothing more than an unforeseen development. I'm not inclined to assume stupidity to be one of the many sins, however, of those we presently oppose." Zethina offered after some further consideration on the matter. The options with the state of their group were not open or varied. They tread quite heavy as one of the drill abbots might put it.

Jaxom snorted amusement. "Yeah, you don't exactly look like adepts. Hmm, I would suggest covering as illegal or at least no-questions-asked Medicae. A lucrative but risky business that provides a reason for all the muscle and an excuse for asking nosy questions regarding battles. If we need to go legal we may, but that risks alerting our enemy." He shrugged. "No way to tell until we get there. Do we have transport?"

"Yea jussignore me then."
Sparrow shrugged and walked back upstairs unless someone stopped him.

Descending past Sparrow as he ascends the stairs she makes her way to the newcomer, weapon still in hand and says "If we go with the medicae and muscle route we will need to make a functional facility area and waiting bay. We will need crete sheet boards, plyboard, plastic sheeting and tubing, sterilisation materials, shelves, sinks. And we have no credits."

Jaxom made the hand-tilting gesture that substituted for a shrug in armor. "No real hurry actually. Sooner we are properly set up the sooner we have patients hanging around who might see or hear something that they shouldn't. As to that though..."
He stabbed one finger out at Sparrow as he walked up the stairs. "Hold it right there Sparrow. Tell me, what would you say if I asked you if you had special instructions for Petition?"
Sparrow straightened up, changing abruptly from wise-cracking scum to a man who had survived the uncertain life of an Inquisition asset for long enough to be classified as a 'trusted agent'. "I would say Throne bless. I have been dropping hints, but all they did was tell me how broke they are. What would you be looking for?"
"Well, operational funds, transport..." Jaxom broke off, looking round the rest of the cell. "Special skills. Medicae, stealth, sniping, ground vehicles, air vehicles, interrogation, enquiry, night ops, water ops, scouting etc, etc, trot them out. If you have them and have gear already trot them out anyway and say so so the rest of us know. To start, I claim stealth and scouting with gear."

Morrison cracked a smile at the question of skills "Well I'd be your Medicae and your Interrogator, I'm not just mindless muscle you see." He said as he reached behind his back and unhooked the medical bag he secured there holding it up "I'm the one that will make sure you don't go dieing any time soon and thats a promise."

Zethina spared Sparrow a glance that gave nothing but a slight shift in her consideration of his place in the present order of things before she turned her attention towards what was on the table. Internally, she felt nothing but great deal of annoyance even as she acknowledged that their ways were just and wise. Transparency gave wise to weakness as their ways and methods become known to the enemy. For not the first time she found herself missing the safety of the Schola or her earliest dispatches within the Precinct Fortress.

"My specific inclinations are inquiry and ranged combat. I have some aptitude for close range engagements but it's hardly my favourite means of approach a violent offender."

Morrigan looked at the newcomer and quietly says "I can provide close ranged fire support mainly and can help against other threats I have been told" She seems immensely shy about the second of her talents and didn't look like she was going to elaborate on it further.

Jaxom's armor shook as a laugh burst out from his visor. "Ha! Hoist by my own petard! Okay, non-dumb muscle, I stand corrected. Pleased to be wrong if it gets us medicae."

He nodded satisfaction when Zethina spoke up. "Inquiry is good. See about getting you some lubricants if you need them. Lhosticks, booze, the usual stuff. Is that a need, or do you already have?"

Jaxom could feel Morrigan from here, but running away shrieking like a little girl probably wouldn't help. Instead he simply asked her "You qualified with long guns? Sniping? These guys have at least one long-range weapon, the one that they used on the shuttle. Counter to that would be nice else our tactical options are very limited."

"As most of you seen there is a long range vox up there. You need to hail listening station UVB-76 for any requests. Anything you want you talk to the Voice. I'm not talking to it again."
Sparrow -visibly irritated- said this in a voice completely lacking his lower hive accent while pointing up the flight of stairs he almost climbed a minute ago.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:12, Thu 17 Sept 2020.

"No, I'm decent with a lasgun if I had one, but I'm better with these" she says moving her arm to indicate small arms "The Duskite are generally better in closer confines. A few specialise in sniping but I'm better up closer where I've been told my talents are most useful."

Zethina considered that for a moment with arms crossing over her chest after returning the shotgun to it's holster sometime ago. It was a short list of things when it came to what she had on hand and not more than enough for one or two such... lubrications. "I've enough amasec to glide my way through one or two discussions and a small share of stimms on hand so a little more wouldn't hurt and I've no lhosticks. Not a habit I ever picked up despite the stereotypes of the Adeptus Arbites that float around the serials." she offered concisely and precisely as she glanced towards the window and continued to fight the instinctual revulsion that rolled over her every time Morrigan spoke and drew at all close to her.

"Roger that. Okay, transport, cover materials, buy-drinks-money and food. We should get that no problem." Jax pulled out his dataslate and began drafting a petition as he moved up the stairs to the vox. Pausing as he passed Sparrow he asked him "You good with sourcing this stuff for us? For a cut natch."

"You have to ask the Voice for specific items yourself. No idea what they do or don't have. If you ask for money and you do get it I can help with the sourcing, no issues."
Sparrow replied with a shrug.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:02, Sat 26 Sept 2020.

Jax nodded reply, moving up the stairs to the vox. Some people, he knew, made almost an art form out of their petitions, but that was for those who wanted more or better, and he contented himself with a simple request.

++My lord, I request 300T in operational funds for the cell. Jaxom, Tdy Cell 114++

Running it through the encoder he sent, waiting patiently for a reply.

Jaxom sits at the vox the others presumably behind. He hails the vox channel. A slow eerie mechanical voice answers seemingly without acknowledging Jaxom's request. It could equally be a person with low quality or very old vox augments or a servitor.

+++Aleksey. Boris. Delta. Ghanima. This is listening station UVB-76. In the name of the Emperor state requested items, purpose of items and purpose of requested funds. Over.+++

++Authentication Aleksey. Boris. Delta. Ghanima. not known to this operator.
No items. Funds 300 thrones. Purpose- local purchase of transport, inquiry lubricants, cover supplies, food.++

Zethina kept her silence for the time being as she continued to piece details together since information was flowing freely enough in the moment that there was no need to indulge in questions. Plus, it was an unseemly thing to do given that instinct gave the impression of positions above her own in both cases. Still, if on one stopped her, she followed after Jaxom to this voice. The stairs hardly a bother in her present kit when she was used to the bulk and weight of enforcer carapace, riot shields, and sundry other blessed trappings of the Arbitrator's office.

+++ Aleksey. Boris. Delta. Ghanima. Funds only deliverable overtly. Commence to location? Over. +++
This message was last edited by the player at 15:59, Tue 29 Sept 2020.

Jaxom sat back a moment, thinking. He did not like the overt requirement. Shrugging, he turned to those behind him. "Overt only. I don't like it. This is going to be difficult enough without rumor warning the perps to flee. I suppose we can work without it however I do dislike the idea of the perps merrily driving away because it took to long for us to walk to their location. What do you think?"

"No possibility of a dead drop?" Zethina asked after a moment's consideration. She did not like an overt delivery at this point for whatever definition of overt the Holy Ordos might utilize in the moment... Which was concerning given what overt operations meant for them as a whole. It was unlikely that they could change the location of the drop now that she considered their verbiage.

"It is probably a draw on an Inquisition account at a banker or moneylender." He shrugged. "We can probably work without it, push the cover, get funds from that. Slow though. Otherwise, anybody got a map-slate? How far are we from the crash-site? Can we walk there in a reasonable time?"

"The site is around an hour away with car. I've a couple of map slates from the neighborhood but they're shite. The ninkers always modify everything way down 'ere." Sparrow added. "An' we have that small buggy downstairs that can fit the four of us uncomfortably. '
Sparrow throws the keys next to the vox and puts a couple of map-slates on the table as well. Much more carefully than the keys of course: Technology is valuable even mere slates.

Jaxom shrugged again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "Fine then, not worth an overt. We do what we can with what we have, and look to out cover for the rest."

He turned back to the vox- ++Cancel request++ then got up. "Might as well be about it then" he said, scooping up the keys and dataslates. "Day isn't getting any younger. Anybody a combat driver?"

+++ Aleksey. Boris. Delta. Ghanima. Request cancelled. Over and out. +++

"I know my way around most ground vehicles. Requirement of Arbitrator training." Zethina said with a hard line of confidence in her ability, it had been one of her better fields of expertise alongside marksmanship and information gathering. Of course, all of this had gotten her crushed beneath the gears of the justice she had sought to uphold but she fought fiercely to not let such doubts invade her tone in the face of one of the Holy Ordo's agents. Her posture, as a result, was no less resolute and committed in the instant as she kept arms crossed over her chest and cast a glance towards the stairs down with an arch of brow.

She was frankly eager to be about the task if only to find some normality within the strange subtleties that she was now forced to exercise. There was no doubt wisdom in it but it felt contrary to everything that her training and upbringing had demanded of her. She was a weapon and a weapon acted openly against those who would disrupt the Emperor's peace.

"One problem with that Sparrow." He said as he walked over to his bag and pulled shells and las packs from it inserting them into the various areas in his webbing "There's five of us counting you." He said with a smile as he shoved the last shotgun shell into a pocket on his side "And you seem like someone that would prefer to not put himself in a situation where he can get shot." He added as he secured the lasgun to his back cradling the shotgun in his arms the breach open and empty "So I will go ahead and take a guess you meant the four of us that are crazy enough to go back to a crash site of a known ambush on inquisitorial forces." He said before chuckling and heading out of the room the pack on his back jingling with each step.

"Right-o Morry my mate. I'll stay here an' hold down the fort. Been here before you came and will be here when you return. If you are nice to me I might even cook you dinner. I am an amazing cook."
Sparrow grinned at the back of Morrison as the man walked out the door.

When the others started talking about requisitions she made her way to the bunk room and started to sort her meagre belongings on the soiled cot, breaking open the revolver chamber and taking out the rounds, placing them out on a gun cloth before disassembling the weapon to beginning to clean the parts before reapplying grease where needed and reassembling the weapon and reloading the lead into it and holstering the weapon and drawing her laspistol and repeating the process with that.

When she was done with the guns she left the room to the loft area overlooking the main floor and tried to work out where a good layout for the medicae business they were going to run as a cover for their investigation.

Jax nodded, handing over the keys. "Glad to hear it." Heading downstairs he climbed into the buggy, waiting for the others.

OK where are you guys going? If someone posts a decisive course of action I doubt the others will vigorously protest.

Zethina nodded as she took the keys and followed suit. Only pausing for an instant to leave behind her duffel bag of non-essential equipment whilst a shotgun and a las-carbine remained with her. Secreted away into a leather sheath in her long jacket whilst the other was slung over her shoulder on it's strap.

OOC: Assuming we're making our way to the scene of the crash.

Yep, crash. Can't really plan until we see how things look there and what we find.

Everyone gets into the buggy and roll out of the complex. The vehicle fits you four - not comfortable is an euphemism. You are huddled uncomfortably close to each other: The harsh sounds of the engine all but block out the ambient noise of the lower hives. The buggy is open and sometimes cargo sixes and cargo twelves get very close to you on the artery lines. You are not alone however: All manner of vehicles roam the roads, some in much worse condition than yours. In one case a similar buggy to yours takes you over and there are not four but eight lower hive gangers huddled on it - the feet of four almost touch the road.
Following Sparrow's written and spoken directions you arrive near the crash site about an hour later. You know it is the right place, rusted signs in disrepair show you to the landing pad.

What's the plan?

Morrison climbed out of the buggy and stretched "Not the worst ride Ive had but not the best." He said as he began to slowly load his shotgun as he spoke "I'd say the best plan would be those of us that specialize in close quarters go in first, so that would be me whoever else feels like they are better in short engagements." He said as he loaded the last shell into gun before slipping another into the open breach slamming it home for impact "Others act as overwatch till we can ensure the area is secure and bring them in."

"We all seem to be close types at the moment, might as well just stick together." Jax replied. "Feel free to take point however."
He tapped his helmet, which reluctantly beeped as his head swept back and forth. "Auspex up, I have..."
To be concluded

Morrigan sat in the back of the buggy keeping one hand on the holster of a gun and the other wrapped around a support column in the rickky thing. When they pulled up she immediately got out of the vehicle and looked around for potential enemies, the way they may come at them and cover for those avenues of attack.

Jaxom activates his auspex and reviews the results.
The streets are relatively empty, only vehicles move on the road and dozens (opposed to throngs) of people are nearby. The entrance of the landing pad is wide open but you do not see what's inside.

Zethina turned the key in the ignition, the engine sputtering to a halt with a frown from the Arbite as she pulled the key, pocked it and slipped out to stand at something like attention near Jaxom. A hand kept near the shotgun in it's holster incase of trouble as she waited for the report of the Auspex. Her own eyes glancing over the people for any hint of their... association with the location.

Morrison was tense, like he always was before possible combat, not because he was afraid of his own death or injury but because of the work that combat usually called from him even after the gunfire and lasbolts had stopped "If we are going I say we do it soon, as our motley crew isn't all that inconspicuous." He said with a slight chuckle.

"Auspex up, I have many signals, but nothing that looks like an ambush. Guess we advance. Stay together, check for debris or witnesses, if anybody in there has untreated wounds, try to sell them Medicae. Lets go."

[Zethina, Morrison, Morrigan, Jaxom]

Formation, tactics, and movement please. The entrance is wide open and around 20m from your current position and littered with items (ie. intact and burnt out vehicles, trash containers, etc.) you can use for cover should you want to approach that way. There are people on the streets but none seem hostile at the moment.


[Txaran]

The man in black fled across the not at all empty iron desert of Gunmetal City or GMC to those familiar with the place, and the Txaran followed.
You have been on this case for days now inserted via drop shuttle. You were recently initiated by the esteemed inquisitor Sigismund Otto Maria Josef Gottfried Henrich Erik Leopold Ferdinand von Nassau-Jungfreud. Or so you think he is esteemed, you have no way to know. All you have is a cognomen you can use in emergency to reveal your connection to the Holy Inquisition and a data slate detailing the "Bullets" stack of GMC. The hive stack is near a major artery line. All you have on your target is that he is "a man in black" and a long standing enemy of Leopold.
You have memorized a vox number you can call from a public vox station every 12 hours to get a piece of information from a creepy servitor you started to call the Voice. You started to think the Inquisitor is joking with you because the Voice was guiding you to a to get 'evidence' from a public toilet in a nighclub, a vox station, a trashbin and the cleaning storage of a Scolam Progenium recently. In these places the most interesting things you've found are: A piece of leather from a clothing, a bullet shell from a handgun, an lho stick (used) and a can of food for a canine. Last time you were told you should go to an empty landing pad and reassess the situation.
Although you are used to some inconveniences, the last couple of days were unomfortable to the least: You were forced by the Voice to sleep in cheap coffin hotels and you were give tow voucher codes for a private cab hire should you need it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:54, Fri 23 Oct 2020.

Diamond formation. Morrison has point, Jax left, Morrigan right, Zeth rear. We are moving openly, if obviously wary.

Txaran's eyes narrowed as he saw the form flee.  Not for the first time did he wish that he'd been provided with magnoculars to connect to the dataslate and record things like a Pict-capture.  He hadn't been told he could exterminate the man in black so he didn't try and draw his weapon as that would just draw even more attention...not that in this part of the hive a small fight would garner much attention.  Vast numbers of hivers and gangers died daily without any qualms of those in charge.  Sadly he still wasn't used to the terrain here so he didn't stop to watch for long at all as he took off after him knowing he was moving pretty slow.

Morrigan move with the others, covering the right flank, staying slightly further away so her aura didn't distract from the others, keeping her pistol low but in hand she keeps an eye around the area hoping the doesn't have to use the gun.

"You want an actual gun?" Morrison asked over his shoulder to Morrigan motioning to the Lasgun still strapped to his back "Wouldn't doubt your pistol has stopping power but range never hurts." He said smiling as he clearly noted the irony of his statement as he held the shotgun in his hands moving at the point with a practice step that made it clear this wasn't the first time the medic had acted as point man. As he stepped his hand moved from the trigger and stock of the gun his hand on the choke keeping it pressed into his shoulder as he reached to his thigh and unclasped the holder for his axe "Just in case loud isn't the preferred method."

[Zethina, Morrison, Morrigan, Jaxom]

The group warily moved accross the street to the entrance of the landing pad. The upward draft in the landing pad has hidden it so far but now they smelled the smoke of burned prometheum. They could see a crashed, partly burnt out VTOL on the landing pad and around a dozen of hivers busy dismantling it to two cargo8's. Some had stubs, especially the three with stub autos that were overseeing the work. At the edge of the landing pad the group could see three bodies on the ground partly covered by a yellow plastic sheet.

[Txaran]

You lounge near your coffin hotel. Your latest information was to go to a disused landing pad and reassess the situation. You are around 20 minute walk or a five minute taxi ride from it. What do you do?

"Salvagers. Or scavengers. Hmm... hold here please, cover me." Jax walked forward, directly to the nearest worker. "Hey there. Who is in charge here?" he asked politely.

What is the range from the cover-line to the work-party please.

Txaran pulled himself from the coffin...anytime he wasn't actively gathering information at the Voice's orders or scouting the area to know where he could go to ground when in trouble he was resting in the coffin to conserve energy and his sanity.  Pulling his pack, utility blade and lasgun wrapped up in a simple grox-hide soft-shell case he looked around to see if the usual suspects were around.  Faces, names, ident numbers, gang names...whatever someone called themselves or others did he added to his knowledge base an reports.  After a few moments he belted on the blade and slung everything else he owned over his shoulder before heading out to the disused landing pad.

[Zethina, Morrison, Morrigan, Jaxom]

Full cover to work party 30 meters with sporadic partial cover such as: debris, empty containers etc.

[Txaran]

Txaran using one of his vouchers summons a tax-cab to make double time. He never knows how the Voice will get in touch with him again and when he should actually be at the given place.
The ride was smooth enough, except for the loud midhive pop songs the driver was playing on repeat. You arrive just in time to see a group of four suspicious individuals enter the disused landing pad.

Zethina stayed close and silent as she let her gaze sweep over their surroundings, hoping to spot out something, anything really, that might help to piece together a story or give some element of a trail. Any hound needed a scent and whilst they had the scene of the crime, the scent was what they lacked. The thought had her hand tightening gently around the grip of her shotgun beneath her armored jacket. Her nerves were only further on edge for how she didn't feel she belonged but she merely invested her trust in the wisdom of her betters.

Morrison just smiled as Jaxom walked out reaching down and pulling the axe from it's sheath "Something tells me things are about to get very loud very quickly." He said as he moved the hand with the axe to the barrel of his shotgun and twisted it with a click before pulling his hand back his axe now protruding from under the barrel of the gun "Makes it harder to shoot at range but give you some good leverage for cutting." He said as he looked at the others still smiling.

[Jaxom]

"Who's asking?"

A sickeningly obese individual with pierced lips, nose and heavy tattoos emerged from the remains of the lander. He (or she?) wore heavy and expensive offworld furs and sported a stub automatic lugged right inside their satin trousers. Their appearance was finished by fur lined slippers.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:08, Fri 06 Nov 2020.

Getting out from the tax-cab he tipped his head down for the driver to see him easier, "This is going to take longer than I expected so no need to wait for me to go to the next loc I was planning."

Tilting his head slightly he looked at the nearby structures to see if he could find a place to take a vantage point that would let him see down on everything.  An amusing idea considering they were inside a gigantic Hive City so there always were higher spots.  Spotting something that looked promising he made his way over to it and circled slightly so that the people or anyone on the pad could see him.  He then pulled out from one of the inside pouches of his workers overalls a grapnel.  A hiss erupted from firing it after taking careful aim and it concealing its use.  After a moment he attached it to his drop harness to avoid any falling and started the winch to haul himself up quickly into a position.  Soon as he made it all the way up he'd circle and get into position while noting other buildings nearby and anything above within range of a grapnel shot.

[Txaran]

You look around and find a suitable vantage point fairly easy: A two-headed imperial eagle statue on the other side of the road to the landing pad. This originally used to be an admin building likely handling the deliveries but now it is fallen to disuse and from the corner of your eyes you see what appear to be squatters inside the offices.
This maneuver was not without any notice however, several people on the street and in cars and cargo8's saw you who honked and cheered. The crowd disappears after a minute or so but if you do not hide yourself you might attract further unwanted attraction.
You see a crash landed lander with crews working around it. A group of four individuals recently entered the only entrance. These individuals, two males and two females appear armed to the teeth and from a military unit deriving from their diamond shaped formation and their expert use of cover. Three stood at the entrance while the fourth just started some conversation with an obese individual in near the lander.

[Zethina, Morrison, Morrigan]

If you guys want to do anything do not hesitate to say so. Nobody watches you explicitly and nobody said you can't go in or do stuff.
You hear honking and a brief cheer from outside.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:55, Sat 07 Nov 2020.

Morrigan tried to move slightly away from the group to get a patch of concealment but Jaxom called out before she could find adequate cover.

Today: Secret Roll: Morrigan Nemhain rolled 40 -- 2 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 15.  concealment.

When the people noticed him he gave a double fist bump in the air knowing that they would see it more as some random hiver doing tricks than what he might end up actually getting into.

He then slipped out of the light and view so that the crowd would disperse suitably and not draw a bunch of attention to what he was doing.  When he found a good spot back from the edge and was properly hidden from view below he set himself up to watch and wait.  Since the moved with a military precision he spent a moment checking other spots of higher ground where they would have similar individuals supporting them at a distance considering the relatively small unit they were compared to those on the landing pad.  When he finished looking he focused on the events going on below and began ranging the distances...

In reply to GM (msg # 124):

"Jaxom, Med Alpha." Jax waved at the lander. "Any chance you will have the pad clear in twenty minutes? We have a meet coming in, see?"

The honking and cheering was filed away but left as little more than sounds of the Hive without some impression of something more sinister. Granted, she remained suspicious of it all the same as she maintained formation and turned her attention towards the obese man that Jaxom was now speaking with. She forced her posture to relax but it was still something akin to parade ground. Her stomach still churning from the presence of their other companion but stamped down under iron will and a memory of worse suffering that was best left undiscussed.

She shifted then to afford herself a better vantage point then but let him take the lead her attention split between the man himself and the men around the crash site. She wasn't happy with the lack of any significant at a cursory glance and almost felt the need to interview or get closer to the wreck but that was best done without any thought.

[Jaxom]

"Yeah? Well I know you don't because nothing is meeting here in twenty minutes. Now go and snoop around somewhere else, tard. This is a friendly warning."

The obese person doesn't look like s/he is believes whatever Jaxom had to say. In fact they appear to touch the butt of their snub auto for good measure.


[Zethina Calder]

You don't really see anything of interest. You might need to go closer.

[Txaran Aguirre]

This is the best vantage point but it is a bit high. You only see the four (now three) individuals standing near the entrance.

Jax hand-shrugged and turned away, walking back to the others. "Hostile" he said flatly once he had closed up once more. "Fire on three. One. Two. Three."
Turning on 'three' himself he took a knee behind the nearest cover, his pistol blurring into his hand to fire a burst at Fat Boy.

We get surprise?

In reply to Jaxom (msg # 132):

Surprise, sure!

"Gak" she mutters bringing up the scalptaker sighting it and fires it at the best armed looking enemy.

Secret Roll: Morrigan Nemhain rolled 84 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44.  aimed attack.

Morrison smiled as he took off running forward at the count of one "Sometimes you have to get close if you want to hit." He said as he moved up to another position that he guessed would give relative cover, or atleast he hoped so.

Move up 10m to the closet thing that looks like cover with a full move, doesn't have to act like it.

Jaxom grinned happily as his burst tore into Fat Boy.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:25, Tue 17 Nov 2020.

When he heard the report of gunfire and saw the four move it caught him by surprise as he assumed it had the individuals out on the pad as well causing him to swear.  When it had passed Txaran affixed a scrap of cloth over the long barrel...he was going to have to get to the edge to see more and while it wasn't much camouflage there were plenty of bits of broken pipe, 'crete and wiring in the old buildings.  At a singular glance it would look like just another pipe that had caught a scrap of clothing that had been blowing about.  He then moved closer to the edge so he could properly see what was going on and if needed chose to join the combat without others noticing.

For her part, Zethina snapped up the las carbine and let loose, the shots were more to the effect of distraction that anything else, the machine spirit of the weapon protesting at some point in the whole but quickly soothed to compliance once more with the administrations of the appropriate rituals and prayers in the instant. It was not a good showing and it seemed her time in captivity had raddled her more than she cared to admit. The spirit might be willing but parts of it and the flesh were still found to be wanting.


Aiight then.

19:26, Today: Secret Roll: Zethina Calder rolled 4 using 1d10.  Jam Test (Reliable).

19:25, Today: Secret Roll: Zethina Calder rolled 98 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51.  Semi-Auto Burst (Las Carbine).

[Zethina, Morrison, Morrigan, Jaxom]

Regardless of Morrigan's and Zethina's less than optimal Jaxom really outdid himself tearing the obese individual to shreds and throwing them backward as all of his six bullets of his autopistol hit home. Using the ensuing chaos Morrison started to move closer to mop up any enemies.

For now it looked like the crowd was shocked by the sudden shootout and most people instinctively shouted and started to run out of the landing pad.
Since a round is only 3 seconds it will take a couple of rounds for the stampede to end but do roll initiative in case any enemies remain. In the meantime any further shooting will take a -20 due to the crowd.


[Txaran]


After hearing autofire shots Txaran fumbled with his cloth only to see people starting to run out of the landing pad in a frenzy crying out in panic.

Roll for initiative.

08:57, Today: Secret Roll: Jaxom rolled 7 using 1d10+3.  Init.

Jax watched, ready if any of them decided not to run. For the moment though, he held his fire, shooting people in the back was a bit much when they were not proven heretics.

Txaran finished concealing the end of the barrel and moved.  Instead of running up to the edge and quickly snapping the rifle into position to take any shots he moved deliberately and precisely when he braced himself and started looking to identify targets.  That care was all due to all the eyes that at least tangentially were looking in his direction when they fled the landing pad.

He was after the man in black and those four might scare him up if he was on the pad...or they might not.  Regardless he needed to be ready for whatever action he chose to take moving forward.

---ooc:
Full: Slink into position carefully/slowly to avoid notice
15:50, Today: Txaran Aguirre rolled 6 using 1d10+2.  Initiative.

When the crowd started to scatter Morrigan held her fire, ducking down in cover and shouted "Surrender and you won't end up like your boss, drop you weapons and leave"

Morrigan Nemhain rolled 5 using 1d10+2.  initiative .

Zethina was used to many things in her experience and the sudden eruption of violence and surging crowds was just one more of those things. Muscle memory, as much as conscious thought, took over in those moments as all that time spent drilling in both the Schola and the yards of the Adeptus Arbite took hold.


19:42, Today: Secret Roll: Zethina Calder rolled 9 using 1d10+3 with rolls of 6.  Initiative.

As the crowd started to move out you notice three individuals who behave very suspiciously: Instead of running out of the landing pad, they wear the same heavy leather uniforms and take cover in a rather professional manner. What is even stranger is that they are packing strange rifle like weapons that look like they are largely made of some kind of transparent material, similar to glass. All three take aim at Morrison who is standing the nearest and fire off short bursts of a very fast disc shaped item turning the medicae and some of the gangers into hamburger in a very bloody way.

Init order: Zethina, Jaxom, Txaran, Morrigan, badguys
The badguys are within 40m with Jaxom 20m (or closer, your decision) away next to the bloody corpse of Morrison. Badguys are 100m from Txaran.
I'm talking to Morrison in private about his replacement character.
Post in any order, will take initiative actions after every character has resolved their actions. Don't forget to roll dodge just in case. :)

Where in Ruin had this lot come from? Jax had been paying careful attention to the potential enemy and he hadn't noticed anything like them! They must have been under concealment. That, plus uniform gear and uniform weapons, made them somebodies black squad. But whose? Nobody used rifles like that that he knew of. they looked almost... xeno. There. He had said it. Well, whoever they were, they had attacked Acolytes of His Most Holy Ordos, and for that (and maybe having heretical weapons) they would die.

The tacsit was suboptimal. Sword and pistol versus long guns in open. They needed to close. Okay, to close they needed a way to do so without being chopped into chutney by those long guns. Fortunately, he had an idea. Triggering his holo he went invisible, sending a fake image of himself right and forward as if to flank. Pro's should recognise that move and counter it. Hopefully. Meantime, to make sure they didn't ignore him...

To be continued.

"Shit how do we call the medic when he's in pieces" she says taking aim again and firing at one of the assailants, winging them in the arm with the projectile. "Should be using a dumdum." she mutters to herself.

Morrigan Nemhain rolled 8 using 1d10+3.  damage.
Morrigan Nemhain rolled 32 -- 1 degree of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44 with rolls of 32.  aimed attack. (***forgot to add +10 accurate so 2 DoS***)

8 damage before reduction
4/6 - Rounds left
This message was last edited by the player at 21:36, Tue 24 Nov 2020.

Txaran's eyebrow raised when he saw the weapons and how they acted when fired.  His trained Mechanicus eye told him that they were no standard pattern or mark of Imperial design meaning that it was either archeotech, heretek or xenostech...and he wasn't sure which one he preferred them to be in dealing with these men because of what each implied.  He kept himself behind as much cover as possible knowing that those razor discs could likely slice through hab-crete as easily as it did those poor bastards down below.  Calming his breath he knew he needed to take at least one of those weapons to analyze and send back for information in the minimum meaning he needed to aid the three remaining souls...he just hoped that the man in blacks people weren't those three.  Taking careful aim from his thankfully high above commanding point of view he aimed for the rearmost of the three wielding the glass guns and slowly depressed the trigger when he had them properly in his sights.  The las-bolt was silent compared to the din below but it appeared it was going to fly true...


---
Half: Aim
Half: Single Shot

13:49, Today: Secret Roll: Txaran Aguirre rolled 24 -- 3 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 56.  Single Shot 0 + Red-Dot 10 + Accurate 10 + Aim 10 + BS 26 = TN56.
13:52, Today: Secret Roll: Txaran Aguirre rolled 11 using 2d10+3 with rolls of 4,4.  Damage Energy, Pen 1.

11 Energy Damage, Pen 1 Torso.

...he put a burst into the closest enemies head, carefully avoiding the screaming crowd, their cover, and his armor.

The sudden demise of their medic and appearance of what could only be described as unnatural weapons had further shaken the Arbite. That the favors of the God Emperor continued to be against her only further demonstrated that as she drew bead and fired, the shot only going a fraction wide of the mark but doing little to smite the enemies of the Imperium and breakers of His Law. She had failed once more and it gnawed at her to do better in the instant.



Half: Aim
Half: Single

18:58, Today: Secret Roll: Zethina Calder rolled 67 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51.  Half aim + Single shot .

As the crowd is still moving out of the landing pad - it will take a couple of more rounds for the pad to be empty - Zethina took aim at one of their enemies but just as she took the shot, a poor fellow entered her line of fire and she shot the poor sod to death.
After her unlucky shot however Jaxom stepped into action. His autopistol rained death upon one of enemy combatants hitting the man three times in the head after the agent seemed to disappear and reappear from one place to another. His shots miraculously evaded the crowd and exploded the man's head like a popped pimple.
A high energy shot from somewhere outside the landing pad hit the second in the second enemy in the chest completely incinerating the man who wailed around as a human torch for a couple of seconds before dying an agonizing death.
Finally Morrigan leapt into action shooting the remaining man in the arm hurting him badly but no killing him.

He turned to the closest enemy around - Jaxom. The agent had ample time to view the gang tatoos and the missing teeth of the young man as he aimed and he suffered a glancing hit in the torso by two quickly moving discs.

The battle rages on.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:37, Tue 08 Dec 2020.

The holo wasn't working, bugger had an auspex or something, but the tacsit had changed notably since a few seconds ago. This was the last of them, and that meant he was wanted alive if possible. Surging out of his cover, Jax brought his shield up to cover himself, lumbering forward towards the heretical xeno-coddling scum.
"Surrender or Die!"

Txaran saw the enemies drop from very dangerous to one wounded with the seemingly lucky individual on the other side striding towards him but holding his fire, prisoner.  He similarly held his fire for the moment but took aim at the last visible man knowing that in holding his fire it was far less likely that anyone would be able to triangulate where he was and cause him any grief.

It wasn't traditional doctrine to allow such combatants to surrender but the call triggered a set of instincts that had been well drilled into Zethina as she moved quickly to change her angle of fire to better cover Jaxom and dropped to a knee, the rifle braced against her shoulder as she worked to draw bead again.  Her mind questioning how he had accomplished all he had in the moment but not daring to give any voice to the question as their ways were beyond her place to question.



OOC: Not moving all that far so basically taking a full action to aim.

In keeping with her new squad mates Morrigan aims down the barrel of her pistol waiting to see if she should fire.

OOC: Full turn aim

The acolytes mowed down their enemies only leaving the last one alive. The remaining man did not falter; he threw the weapon down and the parts similar to glass shattered loudly. He ran very near Jaxom while pulling a fragmentation grenade from his coat. The acolyte in battered void suit could clearly make out the pockmarks on the man's face as he was arming the grenade and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Westingkrup will prevail!"

Txaran had a delay action - if you want to shoot before the grenade is armed please roll an agility test to see if you get to go before your enemy. Roll the attack and damage as well in case you go first.

Txaran saw the man drop the gun and dash towards Jaxom.  His eyes narrowed as he sighted and his finger paused for a moment as his mind considered two separate questions.  He surveyed the play acting out below impassively and his mind taking in all the details others might miss in the one man trying to draw attention to himself with the grenade...

The man [without any hinderance from the acolytes] armed the grenade and held  it between himself and Jaxom, so close that the wiry man could see the millisecond countdown screen on the grenade counting to zero. The grenade exploded with surprising ferocity shaking the whole landing pad and engulfing the two men in fire and fragmentation parts.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:02, Tue 05 Jan 2021.

Jax could see it coming, he just didn't have the time to do anything about it and The grenade detonated, the blast slamming into his shield. The thick slab of hull-metal was of course immune to almost anything in personal-scale combat, sadly Jax was not, and the shield smashed painfully back into his body with an almighty clang.

"Ruin eat all damn fanatics!" he cursed, hunched over the pain in his ribs. "There goes our interrogation".
Never show weakness and he straightened up, waving his gun-hand futilely at the smoke.
That seemed to be all of them, but he had been wrong once before, and he kept a paranoid eye out as he gestured for the others to close up.

Txaran pulled the barrel back ever so slowly till only the very end was resting on the lip of wall and otherwise concealing it from anyone outside a determined individual with quality magnoculars...something that wasn't common at all where they were.  Still he waited and listened to the sounds around him while watching the aftermath of the battle below.  He'd need to report when he got back and depending on the thoroughness of the squad below investigate beyond whatever their interest was in the pad and what went on there.

Morrigan moves forward to the bodies, searching each after checking each was dead with a knife through the eye into the brain.

She shouldn't have been surprised given all that had happened thus far but there it was; surprise. She moved forward in Morrigan's wake, keeping back from the other woman as she confirmed the dead... Her las carbine at the ready for any hint of some duplicity and feeling that leaden frustration of a lead going up in smoke.

"Still have the chance for identifying marks, tags, and the rest. Fanatics don't scrub themselves clean and gives us something to ask about to maybe bait out a response. Not the best plan when it comes to engagements, but workable." Zethina offered towards Jaxom. Defeat meant only the closing of a single door so long as the servants of the God Emperor drew breath.

The smoke slowly cleared but even before it did, Morrigan made sure those on the ground stayed down. None appeared alive but better safe than sorry.
The landing pad has now cleared out, an eerie silence followed the sounds of combat.

Not finding anything in the corpses she wipes the blood off of the blade on the jacket of the last attacker and moves towards Txaran "So, what do we do now?" she asks them

"Post-battle cleanup. We will want to clean out one of those cargo8's, the Mechanicus will never stop looking for their stuff, take it for ourself, load the bodies and whatnot in it. Then of course, we check the site for clues." Jaxom was moving as he spoke, heading over to Morrison. Trying for a pulse, then checking blink, he sighed. "You died well my friend, in battle against the enemies of Mankind". Closing Morrisons eyes with his fingers he sighed, then swiftly and efficiently looted his body. Moving on from him the looted 'Fat Boy', and then the xeno-lover? that he had killed, careful not to touch the possibly corrupting rifles with his bare hands.

Carefully giving blessings to the weapon that had served him so well Txaran re-concealed it within the wrappings and multi-purpose housing that workers often used in these parts to carry long tools used on site.  He watched the group below carefully and remaining in relative cover of darkness and angle to see what they did and didn't do and made proper note for when the moment was right to finally move again.

"Roger." Zethina offered after a moment as she let her hands flash through the sacred Aquilla in Morrison's direction. A death this early was not... unexpected but it was an unhappy turn given the mission situation. She pushed that from her mind though as she moved towards one of the Cargo8s with as much care as she might muster. The suspicion of a trap wasn't the furthest thing from the mind and to fall prey to it would just be one more thing to add to the tally of failings that had fallen upon her thus far.

With nothing standing out after a cursory inspection, she moved forward then to gain access to the vehicle and start making room for the corpses. The itch to call in a meat wagon per protocol spreading across her palms but ignored as there could be no aid from her fellow judges and law-bringers.

Unfortunately Morrison's gear was shredded to pieces including weapons and items. The discs fired from the rifles appeared to cut through everything like paper.

The obese person had a 8 thrones on him, a pack of cards spiked with 3 extra aces and a stub automatic. Their clothes were stained with blood and thus useless.

The unidentified individuals all had the same  gear: Gang leather (destroyed in the gunfight), the "glass cannons" which broke when they fell and dropped them and a frag grenade. The glass cannons had distinctive brass "WK" letters engraved on them.

While searching the bodies Jaxom's (and possibly Morrigan's) hands and boots were heavily stained by blood.

The cargo8's were in prime condition and their loading areas were full of salvaged metal and parts from the wreckage. There was plenty of space in both as Zethina noted, enough room for a dozen corpses unless the group wanted to stack them on top of each other - in that case the cargo8's could hold many more bodies.

Everyone including Txaran please roll awareness.

Txaran was meticulously replacing the rifle to its hidden state while keeping watch below, above and around.  Situational awareness was imperative in a job like his and he made certain the Omnissiah knew he was ready for the Panopticon to further augment it.

Morrigan Stashes the stub-auto in her back belt after checking the mag was full, pockets the coins and tosses the cards back down on the corpse. Wiping the blood as best she could on the previously unsoiled section leaving smears and a bit of staining on her hands. She also takes a piece of the glass cannons with the insignia on it and throws it in a pocket before heading back to the others and looking at the cargo-8. "Found a few coins to split later and a stub. So who can drive a cargo-8?"

Morrigan Nemhain rolled 41 -- 2 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 15.  awareness.

Zethina continued her own search and scrutiny bore little in the way of tangible leads or really much of anything even remotely related. Merely detritus and despair. The question as to who could drive the vehicle earned a glance over her shoulder though towards Morrigan as she felt a fresh wave of revulsion down her spine. Her stomach turning in kind at the very sight of the woman and forcing her gaze else where for a moment.

"I can. Most common ground vehicles were part of Arbite basic training."