Each of you are, for your own reasons, aboard the Dire Retribution, an armed transport en route to Invidia when you receive a message (with Inquisitorial codes) ordering you to report immediately to compartment 3-171-b. Arriving, the door is open and a remarkably pretty young woman in a ridiculously impractical gown stands waiting at the head of the conference table.

The sound of metal on metal clicking began to echo down the hall, a gentle click followed by for more much heavier clanks, it grew louder and louder till the source of the sound became apparent. A tall man, if you could classify him by any gender anymore, walked into the room a slim yet robust metal cane in on hand as he walked and began to look around "I do hope that I am not the only one summoned aboard this ship, though if I am I sure whatever is asked from us is more then possible." He said in a strange grizzly, yet emotionless and flat, tone as he stood there a slight wheezing echoing from the strange respirator unit where his mouth an nose would have been "Apologize, these tend to start rasping if I don't mess with them." He said as he removed one of the hand sized pucks from the side of his face and shook it slightly a light rattling sound coming from it which soon stopped. He then put it back in and repeated the process with the other "I would introduce myself, but  I am sure you know all about me and my friend so I will wait for any others to join." He said as he moved to a corner of the room, the cyber mastiff that stood silently next to him following it's heavy foot falls now drowning out the light clink of it's masters cane.

Up close the woman's eyes betray her 'court butterfly' appearance, their cold hardness in sharp contrast to her charming smile. She runs an Auspex paddle over you and your companion, then nods. "Turn the vox off please, voice commands only in here."

You don't have any bugs or listening devices active barring the mastiff's control channel, right?

Once you have done so, she waves toward the table. "Have a seat or otherwise make yourself comfortable while we wait for the others."

Aurelius' footsteps were quite a bit far lighter than the ones that had recently passed through this route.  Arriving at the open doorway the woman and C3D-R1K could see that he was respectably tall and wearing black robes adorned with Ecclesiarchial accents rendered in iron.  His pitch black hair matched the robes but the slight smile upon his lips certainly didn't fit with the dour aura that his clothing set, nor did the sparkling golden eyes that searched the room.  Slung over his shoulder was a truly large shotgun that C3D-R1K easily could mark considering his duties as a Cyber-Mastiff handler as one that the Arbiters used frequently while hanging at his hip was a pair of skulls affixed to the straps that worked their way around his body and gave the loose robes form.  One was clearly a human skull half covered in melted iron while the other was some sort of stylized skull respirator.

Favoring C3D-R1K with a simple nod he bowed instead to the woman and held his smile on his lips as he added, "M'lady, how may I be of assistance?"

They had explained it and she had comprehended it but nothing felt correct... Nothing felt natural. It was all according to a logic that she had not been raised to appreciate but now she was apart of this vast machine, in service to the Most holy but never told her purpose. That her armour had been returned to her, that she had been given weapons... These things made sense and she could draw out a meaning of sorts from that but there was one more step to be taken and that was to meet the one who would be guiding her forward.

She wasn't gifted in stealth like the hunters and fighters of the Encampment had been nor had she quite learned the secrets of the hags and crones... but her steps were light because she could not trust that she was safe. Never safe, even by the fire and in the company of kin. That feeling never left her no matter how far she seemed to travel from Dusk and that her dreams were a little more trouble with every kilometer between her and that world gave a clear impression that it never would.

She found her way blocked then by a man in robes she recognized as those of a shaman or priest so she kept her silence then as he indulged in the pleasantries. Her own frame tall, battered, and weathered. She did not fit into the world that surrounded them all in her primitive banded leathers with a worn and many notched axe at her hip and a stub automatic at it's opposite, all engulfed by tattered robes that seemed to have been repaired so frequently that none of the original fabric remained. An oval shield of dark ceramic, meanwhile, was casually strapped to her back and tilted just so that it could be pulled free and mounted.

The last to arrive is a rather tall woman, her blue-black hair tied back in a series of intricate knots that may look strange to all but one. Her footsteps to the Throne has, so far, been far different than those normally taken by her ilk. From the blighted darkness at the edge of the galaxy she had been taken from the endless night into the cold stars to Throneworld of Mankind then back to the same series of trackless stars from where she came.

Her eyes seem to shift colours from near black to purple then blue and back again in a subtle but never ending series, never appearing the same as the last time they were looked at. Like the others she is armed, a heavy duty laspistol on her right hip, a heavy forward bladed sword at her left, an arbitrator shield across her back obvious to all who may look, but the promise of other weapons seem to be evident.

As she walks towards the door she waits for the others to be admitted before coming from the shadowed corridor and saying "I have been summoned so the Night has come" she says to the woman at the door waiting for further instructions.

The woman waves her paddle over each arrival...

If anyone is bugged speak now.

...then walks over to the hatch. About to close it, she pauses at the sound of running steps, heaving a sigh of relief as a muscular woman in Guard armor hurries in with a large bag. The paddle comes into play once more, and she closes the hatch.

She walks over to the table, nodding to all. "Your attention please. I am... no, cover is broken, so be it. I am Pearl Harkonnen of House Harkonnen. My authority..."
She places a rod on the table, twisting it to project an Inquisitorial rosette. "is that of Inquisitor Varsh. Does anyone have any issues with this?"

"Only an enemy of the Imperium would have trouble with that Lady Harkonnen..." remarked Aurelius.  Still his head turned to regard the envoy of the Cult Mechanicus momentarily who had their own...interpretation of things...as was allowed by the God-Emperor himself.  He shifted slightly so that Adela and Aoife were more easily in perspective allowing him to regard the mark of the Psyker.  He didn't think that she had summoned them into the room for the purpose of eliminating one or more of the five but if for some reason she had he'd be remiss to not be in position to execute such an order.

"We all serve God-Emperor" Aoife says making the sign of the Aquila "And the Inquisition is the Will of the God-Emperor" while standing aside from the others.

"These terms are acceptable and within the parameters of my standing as a member of the Collegiate Extremis." He said from his seated position the can between his legs as he rested his hands on it's head, his companion sat obediently next to him unmoving but giving off the air of a beast ready to strike at a moments notice "I take it you are in vox communication with the Inquisitor himself or another closer to him? Given that momentary pause and urge to sweep for bugs and other listening devices." He said making reference to her pause in her introduction and her seeming to answer a question not posed by anyone in the room.

"The Most Holy wills it, I obey."

It was a simple truth and one that brought with it mixed feelings. It was by that hand that she had been plucked up from the mires of her youth and into this place of cold steel and distant starts. It was also by that hand that all she knew had been put to blade and torch but survival was a long game and one she knew well. She couldn't let herself not feel that anger but there was precious little to direct it at now. One person had acted on their faith and that did not mean all were the same... Though she knew they were all capable of it.

That went without saying as her eyes darted for a moment to Aurelius and that subtle shift in posture. It spoke of danger and teased at base instinct but she forced herself still. The brand on her cheek itching as it always seemed to when someone stared at it. Her attention turned to the machine man and his hound as he spoke then. The talk barely familiar to her for having grown up in a world without the wonders they were so accustomed to. The need for silence and discretion, though, was something she understood well and so held her peace to await what answers and dark work might come.

"Good." for the first time, Pearl's smile reached her eyes. "What I am about to tell you is Sealed to the Ordos, you may not discuss it with anyone outside this room. Because Guardsmen. Noob Guardsmen. Twenty thousand heavily armed First Founding brand new Guardsmen on this ship. Panic bad."

She paused, taking a breath. "Damn, I haven't told you why they might panic have I? Making a hash of this. Mm, cover broken, silly dress can go." She strips her dress over her head to reveal a flesh-toned (exactly her flesh toned) body glove, handing it to the muscular woman. "That's better. Silly dress gone, now I can think."

"Okay, start at the beginning. Four jumps ago, fluctuation in the Geller field, something comes through. Not serious, just one of those things that make space travel such an unremitting joy. Ships Chaplain does and extra exorcism, Enginseers anoint more anointy-bits, problem solved. Demons can't survive in real-space after all. Except that it wasn't. After the next jump, ship is off course. More exorcisy, more anointy, armsman patrols. Next jump, even more off course. Many many hoops jumped, Captain reverses course. Doesn't work, even further off course. Bridge Officer, Lieutenant Wilks, takes ships Chaplain, ships Psyker, company of Armsmen, heads off to find and eliminate problem. None come back."

"Captain screams for help, Inquisitor Varsh sends Fetch to me, all available Inquisition assets" She waves one finger in a circle "That's us, seconded to task as Activated Cell Seven Four. Welcome to the cell, we have a demon or at least a demonish thingie to hunt. We know that it is clever because dumb one would not last past a few seconds, that it can alter the course of the ship, that it is based somewhere around Engeneerium Deck 4B, and that it ate 120 well-led and supported men without burping."

"Any questions?"

Aurelius listened to the brief with attention and when it started to sound like they were going to be facing off against a daemon or some sort of individual able to bend their warp trajectory he frowned.  Shifting the shotgun from his shoulder he continued to listen as he flicked a lever on it and began unloading the large shells and when he moved aside some of his robes others could see the straps that held his Ecclesiarchal robes held webbing when they moved out of view due to the way the robes hung where he slid some shells into loops while sticking others into a pocket.

His lips seemed to murmur something under his breath  before removing a handful of shells from the webbing that appeared different.  They bore engraving on the case that bore resemblance to the symbols of office that he wore and slid them into position followed by the shells he'd put temporarily in his pocket.  Looking back up when she asked if anyone had any questions he spoke up in a confidant sounding tone similar to what some Priests used in theire more reserved sermons, "Lady Harkonnen, do you want us to start searching in a specific location first...where communications were lost with other teams sent or some fragment of information you have to start us off?  Are there guides in the form of ratings, servitors or servo-skulls that can lead us through the ship as we learn information and avoid spooking the rest of the ship as you've put it?  And are you leading us on this crusade or will you be providing microbeads and commanding from afar?"

Aoife looked around at the others and the equipment they possessed "We are expected to combat a neverborn with the equipment we possess?" she asks "Could we not seal the areas and open them up to the dark?"

Pearl listened intently, giving answers where she could.


"Well yes, Engeneerium Deck 4B."

"I will be leading you yes, but I also have organised vox, in helmets because broken cover still does not mean that you want to be a pict star, right? Come with with photovisor, flare comp and vox.


"You want a Main Battle Tank? We can requisition just about anything from the Guard Regiments on the ship. However, the more noise we make, the sooner and more likely the panic. And of course it wouldn't fit in the corridors and weaponry is in my experience of little use against a demon." She pointed to Illyovich's shot cannon. "With the exception of that specifically blessed against the Warp of course, but he already has such."

"If you are asking what I have put together, besides the helmets I have armored tabards, not Hex armor sadly but they might help. Respirators and air bottles because no maintenance on the life support there in two weeks Also a stim and a slaught all round. Oh, and pins with the barred I."

"If there is something specific that you want, speak up. No promises, but we can try."


"Useless. Demons do not need to breathe and do not suffer from decompression. In fact worse than useless as the death would feed the demon and the vacuum would damage machinery, in particular the life-support stuff."

"I assume that mean we will be refraining from warp travel for the foreseeable future." said the machine mane as he stood up from where he sat his mechanical beast seeming to tense at it's masters sudden movements "I have hunted and tracked my fair share of prey, but what you ask is to hunt something from mans darkest nightmare?" He asked motioning to everyone else in the room save Pearl and himself when he mentioned man "Well I will have to say this is very much against my normal routine but the chance to possibly gather some form of physical manifestation of this beast to send back for proper study is far to enticing to say no." he said with what almost sounded like excitement in his mechanical monotone voice "I have only question, when does the hunt begin?"

Aurelius nodded in agreement the more light-hearted initial voice slipping to something more serious, "I have exactly five shells from Cryptus that can be of good use if the thing is truly a daemon or otherwise spawned from the warp.  The rest will work well enough for most other things when they get close."

When Lady Harkonnen mentioned tabards, vox helms, respirators and air cannisters he murmured something that vaguely sounded like Praise the God-Emperor.  He didn't think that he needed to say that for best effect he was going to have to get far closer to an unclean thing of the warp than he'd normally like in order to have the best chance at removing it.

He then spoke up again, "If I may Lady Harkonnen...and auspex of suitable strength to aid us would be the limit of my additional requests at the moment.  It is an assumption that whatever arrived has killed all those sent to look for it.  There is always the chance that they were ultimately of weak character and will or heretics to begin with and thus were turned and now work with the enemy.  One we should be able to handle if we keep our wits and wills steeled...any significant force beyond that would be...trying unless we are given free reign to use fire bombs and other explosives to clear out the entire area."

"Did the men who reported all this... share any of the signs or omens that preceded the Neverborn? Their presence brings signs of just what they are." the Duskite said after yet more silent consideration, a hand coming to rest on their hip as conversations of equipment and weapons and tools that she had no reference for was bandied back and forth. It was a burning question, really, to know just what kind of creature of the mists she was being asked to hunt and pursue in the bowls of this metal vessel. That would do more to prepare her than any weapon or armor but that this was a woman willing to lead from the front was a comfort.

She knew there was danger in admitting such knowledge but it was almost an expectation, it seemed, of men and women from her world. She couldn't fault the stereotype, all things considered, when it lingered so close to cursed stars and the border between the world of men and the world of things... other than men was so thin when one strayed to far into the depths of the marshes or too deep into the long shadows between ancient trees. That brought her mind back to equipment then for an instant as she looked down to the ax at her hip.

"The attention of a good black smith wouldn't go wrong either." Adela added with something like a lopsided grin. The teeth beneath stained and weathered and clearly not her own.

"An incinerator, blessed promethium and a months training would be nice" she says getting up "But thats about as likely as the tin man rejecting Mars" she adds "Better get this over with, one way or the other"

"Soon. Just as soon as we get ourselves organised."

As you are talking muscle girl applied a static repeater to the 'silly dress', reducing it to a small panel of shimmersilk, then held open a skirted tabard.


Pearl suffered herself to be dressed, taking up the auspex with which she had checked everyone when they arrived. "Something wrong with this one? It is an auspex, and I know what I am doing with it."


"Not by the time it reached me at fourth-hand. What i know is 'ships psyker reported definite Warp presence."

She put the helmet on, snapping the visor down to check the darksight, then back up.


"Black smith we don't have the time for, but I have a whetstone if you want to borrow it."

A pistol, a long rifle with a silencer that nearly doubles its length and several knives later she was ready. Pearl waved at the pile of gear at the end of the table "take what you need from that, then we will go."

Everybody say what (if any) they are taking from one each of:
1)A grey-stripe tabard (mech is Flak Jacket, +10 Concealment).
2)A helmet (Flak helmet with photo-visor, flare compensation, vox and respirator).
3) I Stimm and 1 Slaught.
and update your character sheets.

There was no small annoyance she felt at the lack of omens or signs but she did not let that show beyond a soft huff of air from her nose. That there was no time for a black smith was about what she expected as she moved to collect the offered gear, stripping away what she could of unnecessary weight without much care for the impressions of others as there was business at hand to ensure the safety of the collective. For any that bothered to glance her way, scars aplenty could be seen as the banded leathers were peeled away to reveal the rough clothes beneath. The flak jacket presented little challenge or confusion to her but the way she held the helmet before her made it clear that there were mysteries there that her... less than civilized upbringing could not make sense of.

Still, she showed her faith in the great of this new world and strapped the helmet into place... Fiddling with straps to ensure it was snug but not too much so. Such done with imperfections that, perhaps, stood out more clearly to those used to the wonders of technology Adela set to rearming herself with the professional care of someone who had killed and would likely do so again. The axe returned to her hip, the pistol opposite, and finally the shield once more secured to her arm.

"To the hunt." she offered with a nodded salute towards their war leader.

Aurelius was no stranger to the items that were offered.  He waited his turn to advance and easily slipped on the tabard over his existing plain black robes.  As he strapped it into place he picked up the stim and slaught and slid them into a small pocket he had.  While the helm was the odd man out of the getup his eyes noticed that the visor that covered the upper face had options only seen on rarer equipment.  Lifting it up he pulled it down over his head and strapped it into place without trouble.

When she mentioned her auspex and if he had a problem with it he shook his head, "Nothing is wrong with it as long as it's coming along m'lady."

Like the others Aoife moved to the pro-offered gear and slung the grey tabard over her blue over-robes and slotting the drugs into a pocket, she had never used them and quite frankly didn't want to know what they would do to someone with her abilities but one of the others may need an extra dose. Picking up the helmet and weighing it in her hands she decides if its offered then its probably for the best and places it on her head where it provides an immediate feeling of claustrophobia for a moment.

With the priests comments to Pearl she mutters under her breath in her tongue

Adela spared a glance towards Aoife though the sealed nature of the helmet hid any semblance of expression. She had to stop herself from laughing though in the moment if she was correct in what she thought she just heard. She did not know this group well enough to trust them with anything other than the mask of warrior and shaman but time would tell what would come with that. At the very least someone spoke the tongue of sane and right thinking people.