Blood Moon - Chapter 1

“‘Cog Boy’?” Felyx looked confused for a moment and then smiled as realiation hit him. “Because I am of the male and the Mechanicum’s sigil is being the cog. Clever, this. I like.”

He hesitated. Clearly thinking for but a moment. “Seeming to be they are being tainted. Yes. But they are not to knowing our intentions. If we are to sneak and to attack they are to go to defense. Perhaps we learn less. If we act as friends, perhaps they show to us more. Perhaps we learn more. Then we kill to them.”

He didn’t like the idea of just moving in and attacking. It risked too much. Chances were they needed to die, but if they lost insight into why they needed to die, what would be gained?

“We are needing to be knowing WHY they are taken to the taint. We must know closely to the taint to prevent the spreadings... oh and yes I am having the schemata.”

He brings it up on his datapad and projects a hologram for all to see.

[On Medan]

Damiel kept eerily quiet, as usual, to avoid unnecessary conflict between him and those around him. When they arrived at their quarters, Damiel apathetically tossed his gear at the foot of his bed and made quickly to head out. He would spend his time walking around the ship, attempting to not spend too much time around anyone on board. The benefit to being aware of his affliction is being able to mitigate its effects.

Before he could exit properly, he caught Alistair mentioning a meeting "Yeah, three hours is good. See you all then." He calls out as he walks away. For the next three hours, Damiel would move between the gym, lavatories, and the observation deck, before grabbing a quick bite at the mess and heading in to the meeting.

[At the Meeting]

Damiel enters with his usual silence, a few shallow nods to the people there and he takes his place around the table. It appears the meeting has already started and Damiel was late, without asking for a catch up, he interjects with his own thoughts where applicable. No too long after he arrived he had a point to comment on

"Right, I mostly take care of myself when it comes to stopping psyker powers, so as long as he has good aim we won't be stepping on eachother's toes. Aside from the usual, of course. On the table for my abilities, I can handle information gathering, though I'm not friendly about it, and I have a decent knowledge of the inner workings of the warp. Not too mention in a fight I can go toe to toe with pretty well any psyker."

When he finished, he leaned back from the table, letting everyone take in what he had said. He listened quietly as the group spoke back and forth before interjecting again.

"I feel like we're better off not showing ourselves off. They've probably got proper records of everything and if we don't get a decent cover story we'll be done before we start. Any ideas?"

Donna couldn't resist replying to Egil, "Whas the poin' of that sword if you want to go in all queit like?"

She was smiling, goading him into some kind of response, before he can, she gives her take on tactics, "We should jus go in an' kill the lot of them we should."

Alistair nodded as Egil introduced himself properly, trying not to visibly wince. A fledging pysker, by the sound of it. Apparently cautious, but that seemed at odds with the large man, and his large, but outdated, sword. With a smile, he turned to Damiel, the unsettling man addressing the potential conflict between him and the pysker. At least, Alistair tried to smile, it might have looked more like a grimace.

It was Felyx, however, that Alistair responded to.
"My apologies, I shall attempt to be clearer in my speech. We could lose valuable time in combat if you have to figure out what we're saying." Keen observers will notice the quick glance towards Donna.

"In terms of your points, Felyx and Damiel, I'm not used to having learn about why the bad guys are bad, but I guess you guys might know more. The issue is that I can't see any way that a Mechanicus research station would actually accept our presence. Felyx, would they normally expect a bunch of assorted riff-raff... Sorry. Would the mechanicus expect a single mechanicus and his abnormal friends to visit?"

-- --

Alistair turns to Donna, mild frustration clearly evident.

"Look, scouting, information and intelligence are actually quite important. I'm sure you had scouts as part of your gang, right? Like, to find out where the other gangs were, who the other gangs were, etc? I admire your courage, but we should at least figure out what's going on before we kill them all."

Listening intently to Alistair's ideas, in Egills mind that was the best idea if the group needed a cover story... Felyx has to be the 'in' he was mechanicus after all.

"I think that has to be it" Egill replies nodding to Alistair. "Felyx here is our most likely in. Perhaps if we can obtain some red robes for us all aboard this vessel - there has to be some mechanicus n' adepts keeping this bucket runnin', right?" Egill starts to warm the idea and gives Felyx a firm pat on the shoulder "Felyx 'ere can school us in some basics of the machine god - then all we need is a reason for Felyx to be there. An auditor or some such? What do you think Felyx, could you pull that off?"

With that Egill smiles broadly and throws a wink at Donna for good measure.

Felyx nodded eagerly at everyone whenever they spoke to him, even when he didn't fully understand everything that they were saying. His left hand twitched and whirred. His electoos glowed. He was getting excited for the journey.

He addressed Alisatir first. "In the combat, be as direct as is possible for you to be. I will be understanding then." With that out of the way, he moved on to Egill.

"To acquire the robes, this is being a good idea. It can only help. I am having a plan, perhaps. It is being often that Adeptus Mechanicus Explorators map and plot moons, planets, and the like. We can be like this. I am acting as the Explorator surveyor as I am knowing the language of the Omnisiah. You can then be acting as my team - each being qualified for specific purposes. Red robes would be being very useful to us." He pointed to each in turn, assigning them roles. Egill, Donna, and Alistair were hired muscle for both physical labor and defense on backwoods planets. Mission Leta would play her part as she was since an emissary of the Imperial Cult was not out of place. That left Damiel who, with red robes, could act as a mute understudy.

Of course, they didn't have to go in all as a group.

"We could also be splitting up. Myself and a couple others can be to making our entrance public, and using the previously mentioned cover story. Another group can be to infiltrating silently. If your skills are being up to it."

She looks at Alistair, "ya, we 'ad scabs for all that nonsense. Lit'le juves 'ad a 'abit of fittin in anywhere."

"Oui can make any robes red." She says with a sadistic gleam in her eyes.

Sent from Topic'it App

“Why make when we can take?” Felyx asked innocently, completely oblivious to Donna’s actual meaning.

Sent from Topic'it App

"Sounds like we have a plan then!" Alistair grinned.
"I'm happy to do some 'initial surveying' when we land, and if you mention that one of your workers is out surveying terrain, then it will matter less if I'm spotted. Just a fair warning, I'm assuming there's things that as supposed Mechanicus members, we should know? Or shall I just say that I've been reassigned from my unit to your care? It might might be harder to reason out a peacock wearing a red robe though."

Egill shrugged at Alistair "I think we should see what's what at the research station before we start splitting up - we know so little at this stage as to what is going on." I'd advise caution initially. His caution was not driven by fear, the 'Emperor protects' after all, Egills was cautious because it seemed to be the most sensible approach.

In a few days time, the Medan arrives at the Remus system. Your spine tingles and your stomach churns as the ship groans with the stress of tearing into real space once more.

The navigator skillfully brought the ship to a clear area of space, but it still takes the better part of a day to reach Remus and its solitary, blue-white moon. You check and double check your gear and equipment, ensuring that you have everything you'll need planetside. The hours tick by slowly.

When the Medan reaches orbit over the moon, you gather in a docking bay. It is empty aside from a few worn-out servitors and a tech-adept, who are finishing up some pre-flight diagnostics as well as fueling up an arvus lighter. The craft's hull is a dull gray, with faded black lettering designating the ship as the Vita Brevis.

"G'afternoon, mates." A slovenly man walks over from the opposite side of the lighter. A grin adorns his stubble, as well as a long scar above and below his right eye. "Name's Luthor Krenning, and I'll be your fearless pilot." He reaches forward to shake the hand of whoever is closest.

"Before we touch off, I do have an inquiry regardin' logistics." He clears his throat, coughing and pulling out a lho stick. "Will I be droppin' your lot off and coming back to the Medan for two weeks of wine and women, or would you prefer I keep you company on this little ice cube 'ere?"

Meanwhile, back on the Vita Brevis...

In the dim light of the passenger bay, Marius frowned down at the assorted contents of his most recent acquisition. Emperor bless, did these hivers even know what a standard PDF medikit was supposed to look like? There was no "kick", no "rainbow"... not even the "standard" non-standard inclusion of stimm. To be fair, he mused, he hadn't seen a standard PDF medikit in almost a decade. Leave it to the bureaucrats to take the "fun" out of "fundamental components of battlefield medkits". He was sure his comrades would understand when he expl-

Halo.

Ah, of course, he'd forgotten Halo, the "instant courage just add guardsman" pill. He shook his head. It was always unsettling to have the odd surge of knowledge assert itself. He knew that it was his own, What self respecting medic could forget the guard's "standard" combat drugs?... but it didn't make it any less jarring. He sighed, running his hand through the shock of stark white hair upon his head, tying off a small ponytail with one of the kit's elastics. Time to get to work.

Deftly, he began sifting through the contents and stashing the less interesting bits into the combat vest hanging above the staging surface. Gauze... check... antiseptic... check. He glared at a longer band of thick elastic. Not even pre-tied? What mouth-breathing requisition agent had thought it reasonable to trust a green PDF recruit to tie a tourniquet properly while under fire? Marius slipped the elastic into a quick-release slipknot and stowed it with the rest in the, now significantly bulkier, combat vest.

"Ah, that's better." he said to no-one in particular. A (disappointingly) small vial of painkillers and accompanying syringe. He lifted the syringe and squinted in the dim light. "Straight from a manufactorium, unsanitized, they're going to kill a man with those processing oils." He fumbled in a pocket of his imperial robes, finally freeing the pack of lho sticks and flip lighter that had burrowed to the very bottom. He flipped open the lighter, lighting his lho, then running the flame over the tip of the syringe, watching the odd-colored flames consume the residual oils on its surface.

Good thing the rest of his cohort had yet to arrive, he thought. He hadn't expected such a lack of preparation in the kit's build-out... and his, er, "enthusiasm" might have come off a bit unsettling. He sighed again. As if they would find that to be the most off-putting thing about him.

Alistair shook the pilot's hand;
"Nice to meet you," Alistair smiles, "Thanks for the offer, I would definitely prefer you around. Not sure if we can provide wine or women, so that might change your mind. Would you have enough supplies to stay planet-side? How much fuel would you be carrying? I'm sure you can be useful, even if we can just keep you around to seduce any greenskins we come across." Alistair smirked at the man, navy pilots were notorious for their egos, and ribbing them was a favourite Guard pastime.

"Well, I'm going to dump this in the 'Lighter," indicating the bag he was carrying, "Let me know if you plan of sticking with the footsloggers."

-- --

Alistair walked around the Lighter's wings, carry bag slung over his shoulder. With a start, Alistair halted, the smile quickly turning to concern. A strange man was already in the back of the Lighter, fiddling with something unseen.
"Ah, might I ask what you are doing? Are you part of the tech crew?" The suspicious man didn't seem to be a servitor, so it was an unlikely guess.

Theoretical wrote:

Alistair shook the pilot's hand;
"Nice to meet you," Alistair smiles, "Thanks for the offer, I would definitely prefer you around. Not sure if we can provide wine or women, so that might change your mind. Would you have enough supplies to stay planet-side? How much fuel would you be carrying? I'm sure you can be useful, even if we can just keep you around to seduce any greenskins we come across." Alistair smirked at the man, navy pilots were notorious for their egos, and ribbing them was a favourite Guard pastime.

"Well, I'm going to dump this in the 'Lighter," indicating the bag he was carrying, "Let me know if you plan of sticking with the footsloggers."

Luthor grins widely, clearly appreciating the banter.

"So you want me to charm the local gals, eh? Well with a mug like that, I'm not surprised to hear you askin' for help."

"As for the supplies and fuel, that's why I asked. I'm glad you appreciate my generosity, but this wasn't my idea. Captains orders were to accompany you if you'd like. I just needed to know whether or not to bring along enough food and fuel to keep me from wasting away on this blasted lil moon. Right-o, I'll get to packing up the necessary supplies..."

In a few moments time, Luthor has loaded up all the fuel, food, and other supplies he needs aboard the arvus lighter.

Though the craft can seat 12 and there's only six of you, his supplies along with yours leave the lander feeling a little cramped. There wouldn't be much room for anything or anyone else.

Sent from Topic'it App

Footsteps.

Marius turned towards the loading ramp. Hands full, he awkwardly shifts the lho stick to one side of his mouth and speaks, slightly muffled in the effort to not lose the lho:

"Oh, didn't think my compatriots would arrive so soon. Pardon me, just finishing some preparations."

He flicked his wrist a few times to put out the remaining flames on the syringe, wrapped the tip in sterile gauze, and dropped into one of the few remaining empty pockets of the vest hanging in front of him. Stashing the lighter, he strides forward. He gives Alistair a quick once over with his pale blue eyes. He smiles wryly.

"You look like one who isn't to be trifled with. I'll take it we're both part of Torquemada's mission then, eh? Name's Marius, former field medic of the Snope's 119th."

He extends a pale, scarred hand.

Egill starts to move towards the ramp as the pilot agrees to join them "Glad to have you with us" he booms as he flashes a broad grin and gives Luthor a hearty pat on the back. It would certainly give us mobility having Luthor with them Egill mused, he wondered if anyone else in the group could pilot the craft though. Surely Felyx could if anything happened to Luthor?

Egill brushed the thought aside, it was just good to be 'on the road' at last, doing the Emperors work.

Heading up the ramp he at first thinks the man within to be part of the crew and is surprised when he thrusts a hand at Alistair and claims to be part of Torquemada's team. He folds his muscled arms and squints at the new arrival with suspicion "Our master didn't mention to expect another, you're a bit late to this show aren't ye?"

Marius turned to to appraise the new arrival, hand still out stretched. He maintained the wry grin, shrugging slightly.

"Better late than never, right? By a happy coincidence, my prior obligations were tied off just as the Inquisitor's inquest arrived."

The smile slides from his face slightly.

"I apologize for appearing so.... disheveled. When the God-Emporer's Holy Inquisition calls, you don't pause to launder your robes."

It was true; the Chirurgeon robes Marius was wearing had clear streaks of blood and grime, in addition to a large holy burned through near his shins.

"Either way," the smile reasserted itself, "I'm here to ensure your fluids stay put and, er..." he gestures with his lho-laden off-hand to the soiled garments, "...don't end up like this."

Egill saw no real reason to disbelieve the man, knowledge of their master itself was surely known to very few people and most of those who did know the name were part of the Inquisition.

"Ah, don't mind me, just checkin'. Ya, a happy coincidence indeed." the big barbarians accent is odd tempered by years on Terra, but there is still a slight 'rustic' edge to it.

Egill moves on through to the hold and dumps his gear next to one of the seats, he then carefully removes the claymore from his back and plonks himself down in the chair which squeeks slightly at his muscled weight. He digs a big thumb into his chest "I'm Egill, yer local psyker" he beams at Marius. The statement perhaps at odds with the large sword he carries.

Marius lets out a chortle. "A man with brains backed up by brawn, prepared for anything!"

Psyker

Hand still outstretched, he turns slightly to address the psyker, a crease of worry forming on his brow. "I'm glad the Emperor sees fit to bolster our ranks with one so ordained by the blessing of the Throne. Though... " he pauses, "it does not ease my mind to know that such skills may be necessary in our near future."

Felyx-080 was just about to explain in unnecessary lengths why Luthor should stay with the team when Alistair beat him to it. He was glad he did too; his poor proficiency with Gothic and need to over explain surely would not have eased the pilot as much as Alistair's banter.

Thought for the day: learn how to banter.

He spied the tech priest and servitors off to the side. A thought formed. Quickly, he nodded to Luthor. "On this moon, If there are being vaginas to inseminate, I shall see to it that your penis is finding to one that is to its liking."

Feeling as though he nailed the banter, Felyx walks into the Lighter and drops off his bags. He sees the newcomer, smiles like a psychopath, and exits the vehicle. The tech priest was his target.

He makes the signs of the cog eight times above his head. +++Greetings and blessings of the Omnissiah be upon you, brother-in-oil. I am Felyx-080 of the Ordo Explorator. Your servitors appear to be in disrepair. Falling apart. Their tenure in the Omnissiah's service must be nearing its end.+++

When Luthor introduces himself and not-so-subtly makes a comment towards Donna, she replies in kind.

She holds a flat hand at about eye level, "Yew've got t'be this wild to ride to ride the Donna, yew do."

***

Once inside the lighter, she simply listens with boredom at all the talking between the new guy and the others.
Until Felyx speaks that is.....
"Dammit cog-mun, now yew done an got me knickers all wet." She says through her devious smile, that same smile that twists her scarred face into.....a twisted scarred face.

Iron and Metal wrote:

+++Greetings and blessings of the Omnissiah be upon you, brother-in-oil. I am Felyx-080 of the Ordo Explorator. Your servitors appear to be in disrepair. Falling apart. Their tenure in the Omnissiah's service must be nearing its end.+++

The adept looks up, head tilting slightly as he examines Felt. You can hear cogs whirring within his heavily augmented head. After a moment of careful analysis, he greets you in kind with the same hand gestures.

+++Best regards...Felyx-080. I am called Xavier-563. Blessings of the Omnisssssiah...+++ Xavier pauses, staring vacantly at a fixed point over Felyx's shoulder. It appears his communication systems aren't what they used to be. After a moment, he resumes as if nothing has happened. +++...upon you. Yes. My servitors require repair. The Medan's inventory lacks approximately 28.3182% of the necessary components for a comprehensive repair. We serve the Omnissiah as best we can.+++His eye bionics click and clack as they sort through different visors, analyzing Felyx's electromagnetic and biochemical signals. +++Felyx-080. Why is you here?+++

Sent from Topic'it App

A frown crossed Alistair's face. Something seemed off with this man. Well, never hurts to be sure.

"Did the boss give you some identification? Emperor knows we need a medical professional, but we've heard nothing of the sort. Also, wouldn't something like that be... unsanitary?" Alistair asked, waving his hand at a particularly large blood stain on the man's robes.

-- -- [After Marius situation works out]

"Well, I'll introduce everyone on the way down. OI! Felyx, are you joining us? I think Donna wants you to talk dirty again." Alistair winked at Donna.

Marius drops his hand. He sighs.

"Nothing from the boss-man himself, other than directions to this particular lander of course." He glanced down at the dried stain on his robes. "You're quite right... but, as I said, no time to launder them. I figured a punctual response and arrival was the better part of valor in this case."

"That being said," he gestures towards what could kindly be called a "refurbished" and mismatched set of light carapace hanging behind the medicae-stuffed combat vest, "I have an alternative for this mission. I assure you that, despite it's appearance, I've given it a thorough cleaning."

Honestly, Marius thought to himself, the cleaning had almost made it look WORSE. The years of exposure to the hive had covered the wear and tear in a layer of black grime. At least that had made it look somewhat intimidating; now it looked like someone was playing a prank on a recently indoctrinated cadet.

"Hopefully the trip will give us time to get acquainted. I'd rather not wait until I'm patching anyone up to reach an... understanding, you know?"

Marius takes a cautious step back and then, flipping his spent lho out of the back of the lander, returns to disassembling the medikit.

[Re-Post from LINE Thread]

+++Precisely them: the servitors. I am on a holy crusade for the God of Lubrication and Eternal Clockwork of the utmost importance. I was rushed upon leaving my previous zone of influence and preparations were left at 60.34162% at best. I would humbly ask to bring one of the servitors to aid me and by relation the Omnissiah; of course, I will return it to you as soon as I have completed my sacred tasks, as pilot Luthor will remain planet-side with us during our mission to ensure our return. And not only that, I will return it in better condition than it is now. This I ask of you in utmost humility and with the most sacred regards+++

For the moment, Felyx-080 ignores Alistair. Though, he did find it odd to be asked whether or not he was joining. He assumed it was one of the many blows to Alistair's head in the past that left his memory shaky.

Iron and Metal wrote:

[Re-Post from LINE Thread]

+++Precisely them: the servitors. I am on a holy crusade for the God of Lubrication and Eternal Clockwork of the utmost importance. I was rushed upon leaving my previous zone of influence and preparations were left at 60.34162% at best. I would humbly ask to bring one of the servitors to aid me and by relation the Omnissiah; of course, I will return it to you as soon as I have completed my sacred tasks, as pilot Luthor will remain planet-side with us during our mission to ensure our return. And not only that, I will return it in better condition than it is now. This I ask of you in utmost humility and with the most sacred regards+++

For the moment, Felyx-080 ignores Alistair. Though, he did find it odd to be asked whether or not he was joining. He assumed it was one of the many blows to Alistair's head in the past that left his memory shaky.

Xavier-563 tilts his head, his eye-optics narrowing and carefully examining Felyx. He moves backwards slightly, as if recoiling from the proposal.

+++I stated that my the Ourang Medan's servitor inventory is insufficient. I do not see the logic of releasing one additional servitor from my servitude to aid an unidentified errand. Chances of your safe return from this moon are estimated below a satisfactory level of confidence.+++

Xavier tilts his head again, cogs clanking and whirring in his cogitator-brain.

+++I deduce that you recognize the significance of each of the Ourang Medan's servitors given their limited quantity. By extension, you must comprehend the import and potential consequences of removing a servitor from my inventory. What task could be sacred enough to warrant this indulgent request? Is it possible that your cogitator requires recalibration?+++

Felyx kept a stone face, as one did when speaking the Omnissiah's language. +++My last calibration put me well above standard deviations; however, I am surprised that you do not see the logic in the vast improvement of one of your servitors - so much so that it would easily complete the work of two in such current disrepair. This is a short-sightedness that we must all work on if we are to appease His eternal, oily glory.+++

Without requesting permission, Felyx strode forward with his combi tool, opened the rear panel on the servitor's head and plugged his combi-tool in while pulling one of the servitor's jacks out and plugging it into his interface port. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. He twitched. In a moment he was done.

+++I understand your concerns and your refusal to cooperate with a member of the Ordo Explorator on a mission of Auburn-Epsilon-Qauntum Classification surely will not be held against you in any of my official reports. I am sure that maintaining this hangar bay will be more useful to the Holy Mechanicum than the potential discovery of Archaeotech.+++

He moved to step away and then stopped. +++This unit should be operating at a much higher capacity now. Bathe in His Holy Secretions+++

He made the sign of the cog above his head once more, awaiting a response.

Egill settled in his seat he noted the straps to hold him in place but he left those for now as he saw Felyx at least still dallied outside. Resting back in his seat he feels a headache coming on, a dull shooting pain behind his eyes. He didn't think it was the null as he glances at Damiel, no it was just a headache...

He rubs his temple and closes his eyes in the hope that rest would help the symptoms.

Iron and Metal wrote:

Felyx kept a stone face, as one did when speaking the Omnissiah's language. +++My last calibration put me well above standard deviations; however, I am surprised that you do not see the logic in the vast improvement of one of your servitors - so much so that it would easily complete the work of two in such current disrepair. This is a short-sightedness that we must all work on if we are to appease His eternal, oily glory.+++

Without requesting permission, Felyx strode forward with his combi tool, opened the rear panel on the servitor's head and plugged his combi-tool in while pulling one of the servitor's jacks out and plugging it into his interface port. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. He twitched. In a moment he was done.

+++I understand your concerns and your refusal to cooperate with a member of the Ordo Explorator on a mission of Auburn-Epsilon-Qauntum Classification surely will not be held against you in any of my official reports. I am sure that maintaining this hangar bay will be more useful to the Holy Mechanicum than the potential discovery of Archaeotech.+++

He moved to step away and then stopped. +++This unit should be operating at a much higher capacity now. Bathe in His Holy Secretions+++

He made the sign of the cog above his head once more, awaiting a response.

Xavier stared dully at Felyx, watching him work.

+++Your statements are incorrect, brother. Archaeotech would indubitably take precedence over hangar bay maintenance and performing lander diagnostics. It is inexplicable that you would suggest otherwise.+++

Xavier steps forward, performing diagnostics on the servitor, plugging combi-tools into various ports. The servitor jerks its arms and legs in various directions as Xavier does so, head twitching back and forth.

+++Indeed, the servitor responds to external stimuli 0.8673 seconds faster than it would previously. I am ignorant of how you achieved this improvement. You bring glory to the Holy Mechanicum. Brother, I humbly release this servitor from my inventory to aid you in your quest. The diagnostics on the Vita Brevis are concluded. You may depart when you are ready. Go forth with pride and glory.+++

Xavier addresses the other servitors in a stream of binary chatter and begins to walk away. Before he leaves, he turns around to stare intently at Felyx. +++Felyx-080. Your disregard for sacred artifacts and revered archaeotech concerns me. Are you certain that your cogitator does not require recalibration? I would be honored to reconfigure your neural circuits and priorities core.+++

Donna watches the exchange between Felyx and Xavier, not understanding that something was going on. To her, they made bizarre noises and clicks, like they were stuck on the loading screen still.
"Oui think these two are broken. They be makin' awl sorts of racket an standin still."

After a second she adds, "Do yew think we should plug em in?"

Alistair frowned. This 'field medic' had no proof of identification, apparently didn't own a change of clothes, and had a eclectic collection of items that could only generously be called armour. To be fair, some of the larger pieces would probably stop most sidearms, Alistair mused, but I would hate to try and move in the thing.. Alistair's thoughts were interrupted by Marius, the glimpse of the wicked needle glinting in his hands sending a shudder down Alistair's spine. With a shake of his head, Alistair leaned forward. Soldiers like Alistair need briefings, and by the throne, he was going to get one, even if he had to give it himself.

"Ah... Well, let me give a quick rundown of what the plan is. We have three main goals, find out what's weird down there, stop it, and get out. The cover story is that we're assistants to Felyx, he is one of them Explorator dudes. Surveys systems, planets, moon etc. So, on the surface, we follow his lead. We don't want the locals to know who we are, or what we're doing, at least initially. Keep sharp and look out for the group. Sounds fair?

So, in terms of the personnel we have; Felyx is the Tech expert, and our main point of contact with the locals. I'll coordinate any surface missions and 'surveys' we need to do. If things go south, Donna and Egill are our ticket to hacking our way out. Marius, I assume that you'll be keeping the front line going? If things get really bad, warp bad, Damiel is our fall back plan. All clear?"

Alistair leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, feeling much better after his attempt at coordination. He could only hope that someone else got something out of it. Then, cracking a eye, Alistair added one final suggestion.

"Oh, and everyone should probably think up a back story about why they were picked up by Felyx the Explorator. Just in case someone asks."

Marius continued his preparations, not looking directly at Marius but nodding thoughtfully during the brief. He finished loading up the combat vest at about the same time the briefing concluded.

"It sounds like a solid plan. Our inquisitor has assembled quite the team, it seems." The smile crept back onto Marius' face. He nodded. "A fair assumption. I intend to mitigate unforeseen injuries to the full extent of my expertise."

"Additionally," Marius continued, "I might be able to lend a hand in our investigations. Life in a Snope's hive tends to... uh... 'overdevelop' one's nose for nonsense."

He sighed and and took the seat next to his hanging garments.

After a moment's silence, brow furrowed in contemplation, he spoke:

"It might be in our best interest to share said backstories during their development. You know, to prevent questionable overlap. As for mine..." His gaze drifted over to the the chattering tech-priests. "Not to draw unfounded conclusions but, er, I'll take it that Felyx is not particularly interested in matters of flesh and blood. I could easily pass as the means to fill that gap in his expertise."

He dug out the pack of lho sticks and lighter, sparking another lho. "After all, tis' the gift and curse of living in a hive: you get real familiar with humanity"

"Your statements are of the correct nature," Felyx replied as he strolled into the lighter. Behind him, a servitor rolled forward on well-oiled treads. It turned to Felyx and blurted out something in Binary. Felyx laughed. "You must be stopping now, you are funny servitor." He causually wiped a tear that may or may not have actually been on his cheek from the apparently hilarious binary joke and went to sit down. He secured his man-catcher and instructed the servitor to stand near a charging station.

"I understand to machines. They understand to me. It is good, yes? It is good." He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. Then, with apparent renewed vigor from his three second power nap, he sat forward and pulled out his tools. He had a servitor to re-calibrate.

"Please forgive to me. I have to running some calibrations."


+++

EDIT: "Oh Omnissiah's steel testicles," he muttered.

Of course I could re-calibrate the other servitor but not mine own.

"Buckle up and Emperor be with us," Luthor calls out from the front of the lighter. You all rush to your seats and strap in. With an ear-splitting roar, the lighter's engines come to life. A moment later, the lighter taxis out of the docking bay and into space, bringing with it the curious sensation of weightlessness.

After about twenty or thirty minutes of flying, Luthor calls Felyx up to the front, gruffly asking if he wants to try the orbital scans. From the rear, it's hard to see much of anything, other than the odd piece of loose equipment floating about untethered.

When Felyx reaches the cockpit, he can see the moon stretched out before them. The planet is colored with a mixture of white and blue with black patches, presumably the peaks of the mountains where the altitude is too high for snow cover. Other than that, the surface looks unblemished. One fresh snowfall would be all that it took to remove all traces of a lighter or an exploratory team...

Luthor gradually flies the lighter in orbit, taking a few hours to make a complete pass around the moon's equator. Felyx quickly yet carefully sifts through the reams of data entering his cogitator-brain, identifying the site of the research station and some nearby anomalies.

Felyx's orbital scans reveal three sites of interest:

The research station with a nearby landing pad and small storage warehouse, much like what you expected.

A long, narrow structure some two miles from the research station, partially buried by snow.

And finally, a mile from the station in the opposite direction is a large entrance to a cave of some sort.

"Many thanks being to you Luthor. You will be wanting to note other suitable landing areas. For the precautions."

Felyx strode back into the crew hold, ensuring Luthor could not eaves drop easily, and addressed the group. "Three sites of interest are existing: research facility and storage which coincide to the map are existing as expected. The others: long and narrow structure - partially snow buried - perhaps unused in some time - may be investigating worthy. Last: large entrance to excavatory area, perhaps cave, one mile from Mechanicus facility."

He let the new information simmer.

"Well..." Marius paused, "that complicates things somewhat."

Folding his hands and resting his chin upon his scarred fingers, he continued his musings.

"I get the feeling that whatever caused things to go ploin-shaped might be the fault of that odd structure. I think, first and foremost, we ought to check in on the researchers. Might help us be better informed about what is happening here."

"Of course, it also means that we may have a chance to help the researchers if they aren't entirely... compromised. Thoughts?" Marius raises an eyebrow and looks to his teammates for direction.

Alistair glanced at Marius, eyebrow raised.


"If we assume that the structure is the old colony, then the only complicating issue is the cave. Either way, I believe the plan was to say hi to the locals first. Unless you want to be dropped off first?"

Idiot.

Marius winced."Oh, no, sorry, I wasn't clear. I fully agree with you, Alistair."

Marius smiled apologetically. "I sometimes let my thoughts get ahead of me. Wherever we're most likely to find the 'locals'... that's where we should start."

"And," Marius added, "I am not in the slightest bit interested in going it alone on this snowball."

Felyx nodded in agreement. Greeting the locals would be fun. A part of him - a rather large part - did hope that the majority had been compromised and would need to be put down. Old bitterness from his own past tended to die hard.

"I have instructed to Luthor-pilot to find suitable landing earth away from the 'locals.' His dying would be making things more difficulty for us. And being sad."

If he gets an odd look at the last part, he shrugs and adds, "He nice."

As they got closer to the planet Egills headache grew worse. "We land at the research station and see whats what, we've already discussed this" he snaps at Alistair and Marius. It didn't occur to him that they hadn't met Marius when they'd agreed so, the pain in his head clouding his judgement a little.

Egill leans back into his chair and rubs his temples, if this headache continued to get worse he'd start to be a liability "Ere' doc, err Marius. Ya got any pain relief, my head is pounding?"

Marius jumped slightly, taken aback by Egill's interjection.

Carnelian wrote:

"Ere' doc, err Marius. Ya got any pain relief, my head is pounding?"

Marius gathered himself and managed a concerned smile. "Only the sort that's intended to be administered through a large needle in case of massive trauma. Whoever put together the kit I acquired in the hive ensured that anything more than the barest essentials was removed before sale."


"Be that as it may," he continued,"there are ways to help with head pains when easy relief isn't readily at hand."

He turns in his seat, reaching into various pockets of the stuffed combat vest. He retrieves a thick strip of canvas and a canteen. He strikes up a colloquial tone:

"You ever nurse a hangover? I've done my fair share; underhive tranq on Snope's could knock a grox cross-eyed. And Throne knows I'm hardly built for that sort of punishment. Turns out simple minds making foolish mistakes warrant idiot-proof remedies. Worst part about the day after is the headache, eh? Best bet, I find, is darkness and water. Take a long pull, wet the canvas, cover your eyes for a bit. We probably don't have long but it can't hurt."

He wraps the canteen in the canvas, then tosses the bundle to Egill."My apologies, Egill; it's the best I can do given the circumstances."

Alistair re-raised his eyebrow. A field medic without any painkillers? Granted, a first aid kit is usually geared towards actual injury, rather than headaches, but still, not a great start for the man. Alistair smirks, and reaches for his own medi-kit, the Hospitaller sigil clearly visible on the front.

"Well, I might have something. Ah yep, some basic painkiller pills. Thank the next Sister you see Egill, this kit's one of theirs. It's a good thing that Hospitallers treat all kind of people, not just soldiers with their arms cut off! This is the strongest thing I've got that won't make you drowsy, and I need you on the ball down there."

Alistair snaps a pair of pills off the sheet and passes them to Egill.

"Take one now, and the other if you need to. Fair warning though, I'm assuming you psykers don't have supernatural headaches. If you do, well, I'm not sure those will help. At that point, sure, put on a wet blindfold."

Inadequate.

Marius grimaced. While he was glad that the squad seemed adequately supplied, he did not like that his abilities were likely to be questioned as a result of his acquisitions. He figured it would be best to do some damage-control.

"Alistair! I was unaware you had also seen fit to seek medical supplies. And from Sororitas hospitallers, no less." He smiled. "You have fine taste."

He looked to his combat vest.

"I can't fit much more in the way of battlefield medicae, but when a spare moment arises I'd love to examine the contents of that kit. And, of course, the chems it includes."

There was a certain glint in Marius' eyes. "I've done a fair study of the art of chymistry, you know, and have developed a number of my own propriety substances. I'm sure that I could improve upon or multiply what we have on hand."

He paused, then somewhat stuttered through his conclusion. "Er, given time, that is. Which I'm sure will be in short supply on this voyage. Maybe, just, something to keep in mind, you know, if it comes up."

He coughed in a closed fist, then began digging through his robes for the lho-sticks and flip-lighter.

The disappointment shows clearly on Egiils face at Marius' remedy, this was the sort of crap his ma would have pulled. He was about to reach for the the wet cloth when Alistair butts in. Egill looks between the two solutions. A wet cloth and a dark room was what his mother always advised and why Egill suspected that the headaches just ran their course anyways, it did at least sooth the way. "I'll take the pills and the wet cloth too eh, it will be soothing I hope before the pills kick in."

Luthor mutters something under his breath.

Spoiler:

Sent from Topic'it App

[Site ate my last post? WTF?]
Donna licked her lips seeing Alistair and Marius talk pills.

"You got any slawght in them pockets?" she says hungrily, like a starving child eyeing a hot meal.

Felyx screeches something to the servitor in binary and screeches back. Slowly, its treads turn and make their way to Egil. Two meaty, dead-yet-strong hands reach forward.

"Your temples. I have been instructed to rub. Your temples. I serve." The fingers clinch together and then release as it gets closer.

Felyx stands and walks into the cockpit. "Luthor pilot - please being to set us down at research station. Where ever you go on to landing after, you will be staying in vox ranges." Felyx patted him on the back in thanks, quite awkwardly.

+++
Felyx literally cannot pass the awareness test as is, but I rolled anyways just in case I got a natural 1: 80 http://orokos.com/roll/616466

"Right away, captain. Best buckle up now."

Luthor deftly pilots the craft toward the moon. You can feel the craft gaining speed before bouncing and tumbling about. You are rattled in your seats while any loose items may fly about. On more than one occasion the ship feels like it's falling in free fall in an alarming manner. Luthor voices no concern and simply mutters and hums to himself, flicking switches and guiding twin joysticks.

"Sorry about the chop."

Once in atmosphere, the silence of the void and is replaced with the muffled howl of arctic winds. The ship is buffeted this way and that by a strong gale. If any one of you were to look out the cockpit, you would see only the white murk of heavy snowfall, illuminated by two beams of light from the front of the arvus lighter.

After some time, the ship emerges from the storm, revealing clear skies, dazzling sunlight, snowy mountains and frozen tundras. The bluish sunlight paints the world in a surreal color. It's actually quite beautiful, albeit in a lonely and unnatural fashion.

Before long the craft begins to descend again and touches down on the landing pad, which is perched in a gorge about 10-20 miles long. High, jagged peaks surround the area.

The pad provides just enough room for the Brevis as well as another craft, a substantially larger lander emblazoned with the mechanicum insignia. A half mile away sits the research station. The landing pad, mechanicum craft, and station alike all show signs of having been recently dusted off.

Next to the landing pad is a boxlike structure, presumably the storage facility.

Between the three structures (pad, station, and storage facility) are pathways marked by high poles with rope running along the top, about chest height.

"Our own little slice of paradise."

Luthor turns back to regard your team with a grin.

Sent from Topic'it App

Felyx's face is glued to one of the view ports. He holds on tightly to support rods as the Arvus hits turbulence, but even through the worst of it he could not look away. Being born in a Mechanicus research station with only temporary trips to the surface of their planet of study bred in him an intense curiosity and desire to get out and explore. He mentally mapped everything he saw. It was a practical way to recall landmarks, should the team need them; yet, it was more than that to the explorer. This was a new atmosphere; a new ecosystem; a new world.

When they touched down he reported back everything he was seeing. Making sure to mention the recent use of both the Mechanicum craft and the storage facility.

He moves toward the exit ramp, briefly reminding Luthor to have a plan B, and C for landing sites if necessary. He also asks if the pilot has received any vox transmissions from the facility and, if so, what they are.

With his servitor in front of him, he grabs his gear. He wouldn't exit first, of course. Leave that to someone who was in the business of death and dying.

Donna held tightly onto the piepwork running overhead. She was used to the suffocation of the hiveworks. Being in a flying box made her nauseated, or was that the Dt's?

"Yew bettah hurry an land this trap before I do a bit of paintin'" she gasps through the strain of holding back her vomit.

On touchdown, she rushed through gathering her gear. She wanted to be the first out the door.