Meeting Again for the First Time (IC)

Kenji held Cessia's blank stare with the same big smile. He had dealt with tech priests before, of course. Though, only Rhone would have known that at this point. The former Ashigaru Line Sergeant had commanded troops in battle, and dealing with Tech Priest Enginseers came with the job.

He leaned forward and whispered, "You're supposed to shake it, young lady."

Perhaps for the first time in Cessia's life someone was teaching her how to human properly and referring to her as "young lady."

Regardless of how it played out, he turned back to Rhone and shrugged. "Jyaa... ano... it is a fitting name. You should write a book."


+++++++


If there was nothing left to discuss, the time was nigh to move over to The Westin: Port Wander and see if The Flamboiants would be willing to play nice. Rook's room 213 was in a prime spot to overlook the main thoroughfare and the team still had roof access. Furthermore, everyone save for Cessia had been to the lower-levels and knew that it still served as a vital, alternate travel route used by both the mutants and lower levelers.

Since giving him the order to keep quiet, Rook had not heard from Poo-Beyah, so had no way of knowing how the lower-level merchant was faring.

Moving Forward: ...Time Keeps on Tickin' Tickin' Tickin' Into the Future...

With a somewhat fuzzy plan in place, the remnants of the 666th Emperor's Bastards, 7th Company, 7th Platoon, 7th Squad made ready to make a quick jaunt across the street to The Westin. In tow were the "strays" as Kenji had called them.

There was Jules, who had proven to two different Bastards her skill with medicine.

There was Kaylith, the classic, confident beauty who stayed close to Rook.

There was Numa, the quiet one with sharp eyes. She was clearly trained and a fighter, but scrappy and rough to the extreme.

And finally, there was Cessia, the mysterious tech priestess with a severe lack of knowledge on social interaction.

As they leave the Noodle Bar, Kenji reminds Rhone and Jules that they can reach his people on the short range vox. They would be "digging in" so to speak, and keeping an eye on the main street. They were still one weapon shy of a fully equipped squad.

+++++++

The alley entrance to the hotel was unlocked just as it had been before. The door leads into a typical hotel hallway. Typical for those who had ever seen such a place before. It was quite possible that some, like Cessia or the Ratlings, had never had the chance to ever stay in a place like this. A hab-unit that one would rent only for a night or two sounded a lot like a whore-house to any lifelong Astra Militarum.

To the right, the hallway ended in a staircase that led to the second floor - the floor that Rook's room 213 was on. Across from the staircase was another door that led to the boiler room, of which Rook and Kaylith were already familiar. This room also had access to the lower levels. If things were as they had been when Rook and Kaylith left, two gangers of the Flamboiants should be down there guarding that entrance now.

To the left, the hallway headed straight for about ten meters before it cut left. One the party turned left, to their right would be the check in/out desk, the main lobby, with big glass doors that opened into the main highway, and then connected to the main lobby was the bar.

But of course, until anyone actually ventured forward, they would not know that. Also, Rook was fairly certain that the heavily armed gangers in the main lobby wouldn't be too happy about another group of heavily armed people surprising them.

Finally, the ladder for roof access in the alley was still low enough for anyone wanting to head up and get eyes on what was going on below the opportunity.

Jules was subdued as they moved out her thoughts on the young girl they had saved from the mutants. Jules had looked in on her at Rhones behest while the others checked on the commotion outside. She'd been pleased to see Mr. Ken had dressed the girl in a large t-shirt, the bloody night dress was nowhere to be seen. The girl was sat on a bed, her legs drawn up which she hugged while resting her head on her knees. She had a vacant expression and didn't register Jules at all, even from gentle coaxing.

It was clear she was in shock and Jules had known she wouldn't get anything out of her so she settled on just making her comfortable. She had managed to get a sleeping pill with a little water into the girl before getting her settled under the covers.

Rhone would no doubt be able to tell her what had happened to her parents or guardians, although it didn't look good.

As they moved into the hotel Jules will keep near to Rhone, she felt safe with him but it was more to keep an eye on his wounds. Jules was certain he was the type of man who would grin and bare it, probably pushing himself more than he should.

When the group entered the hotel through the side door, Rook pulled everyone up and waited for a moment.
Rhone, you and Kaylith come with me.You need to meet the leader so he knows that we're in here to take cover, not take over. Everyone else, stay here. If you hear shooting then it's likely the introduction went poorly. We'll be back in a few minutes to break up and secure this building properly.

He looked from the group to Rhone, Ready?

Cessia eventually shook the mans hand with a slightly too firm grip and a way too stiff arm, but after being told what she was supposed to do it seemed she was more than willing to follow through with it. She filed away what 'shaking hands' was for later use, assuming that it would happen a lot.

+++++++

As the group entered the hotel, Cessia once again allowed her Mechadendrite to roam around and take in the surroundings to the fullest extent that it could, going so far as to look at the walls and floors to microscopic detail. It was all good information, and Cessia never knew when she would need to use it.
She hadn't been in a place like this before, and given that no one had actually told her what they were doing or why they were here she simply remained silent and followed the group, doing as she was told and generally staying out of the way apart from her information gathering.

"Statement: Designate Rook, if you are entering danger it would provide a higher probability of the package surviving its transit to its destination if you were to give it to me until your safe return. Assurance: I would return it to you if you survive the meeting with 'the leader'"
She held out a hand, assuming that he would agree to her request considering it was the most logical option.

Rhône acknowledges Jules with a smile. Her assessment was more than correct. Seventh’s Sergeant was a dog soldier just like the rest of his squad, and there would likely be a colorful conversation necessary to convince him to sit out of the action. Even now, Jules could hear Rhône’s grunts with each step as he pushed himself far passed his body’s resilience.

When they stop, Rhone listens with a glazed look as Rook speaks. Members of the Ad-Mech had the social grace of a turnip, and Rook appeared to be no exception. When Rook finishes, Rhône pauses before finally speaking.

“Malakai, look I’m glad you got some tail, saw the world, got some you time and found yourself, but pump your breaks a second. Your social skills need work. We’ll meet with this contact of yours and If....”

Rhône turns to the group, performing his driest Rook impression.

“you hear shooting....” He grins before returning to his normal inflection and delivery. “...then chances are Rook here opened his mouth. We’ll regroup afterwards and devise a plan from there that suits the circumstances.”

Turning to Rook, Rhône nods and winks.

“NOW....I’m ready.”

Ruaidhri had taken a knee out in the alley, covering the exit as the team made their way out of the Noodle bar. As the Tech Priestess had joined them, Uallachan watched her for a few moments, before grinning back over at Ruaidhri, moving one finger up and pulling down his eye lid. Back out here on the street they were back in an active war zone, and they would need to keep sound discipline. Still though there was a lot that could be communicated with a look. Bloody Lysander all over again. Emperor's chaffed inner thighs knew how long it would take her to comment how interesting to would be to examine them.

As the group stood in front of the hotel and started discussing their various plans, Ruaidhri stood up from his position and made his way over to Rhone, Uallachan just a step behind. Keeping his voice low, he said to the sergeant
"Sir, while you are in there straining the spuds so to speak, I was thinking himself and me might pop up the ladder and check out what they are up to over there. Tis a risk, what with them spotting us last time but we might learn something."
"Statement: Designate Sir, while you and Designate Premature Oil Spurt make discussions inside, Designate Fluffy Bum and myself Designate Father Surprise can observe the mutants from the roof.
Assurance: While dangerous, we will try keep a low profile.
Digression: If Designate Premature Oil Spurt wants help, Designate Mothers little helper, ie me, has some pills that sort that kinda thing out in days."

Rook looked at the hand that was proffered to take custody of the toy. Though the reasoning was sound from her perspective, it was not from Rook's. No. he said flatly. This is mine to deliver, and deliver it I shall. It has been safe in my care up to this point. Handing it over is not in the parameters of the deal I have cut. When I come back, you may stick close watch over my safety, but I will not relinquish this to any other. You will therefore be able to ensure I complete my mission. After his tirade he turned to Rhone, who had taken the opportunity to berate his abilities in dealing with those in the underworld.

With all due respect Sergeant, you have no idea what it has taken for me to get back here and who I've dealt with on that journey. I may be an ex-Adeptus Mechanicus magos, but in dealing with these people, I AM capable. If I wasn't, there were plenty of opportunities for my mouth to get me killed up until now. he paused to before changing the subject.
Now, this isn't my contact. This is a gang leader whom is occupying this building and is likely to be jumpy at the appearance of ex guard in his bolt hole. No doubt you can charm him, but you're still a stranger for now, so we need to exercise caution. Since Rhone had already given the affirmative to being ready, Rook nodded to Kaylith and they left to go out into the lobby.

Big man, he beckons around the corner, I've found some more people to defend this place. Kaylith and I are coming around the corner with one of them, don't shoot. Rook looked at Kaylith and then Rhone, half raised his hands palms out and stepped around the corner.

"Oi, that you metal man, yeah? Brought friends?" The deep, gravelly, low gothic accent blurted out.

"As long as it ain't muties, you won't get kilt."

As the trio rounded the corner, the giant, green mohawked ganger stood slumped against a wall lazily. He was nearly as big as Stubbs and had a massive hammer on the ground next to him. His square jaw held up a shit-eating-grin as he saw Kaylith again.

"Right then, so what's this about, eh?"

Rhône cracks a smile, stifling a pained chuckle at both the nickname the Ratlings had gifted Rook, as well as a descent impression of Cessia despite being in her company for only minutes. Pulling a pair of magnoculars from a hip pack, Rhône hands them to Uallahan.

“Do what you boys do best. We’ve got a long night cycle ahead of us.”
**********************************
Anybody who knew Rhône more than ten minutes would have overheard the conversation he and Rook were having and understood the Sergeant’s boisterous, quick witted, harsh tone to simply be all part of who Argus Rhône was. Perplexed that the former tech priest had seemed to take any offense to his sense of humor, Rhône decided he would have to push Rook’s buttons more often.

“Remind me to hold a memorial service for your sense of humor.”
******************************
Rhône follows Rook’s que, hands out to his sides, palms exposed as he steps into view . Despite the obvious injury, Rhône maintained a confident stance and swagger. Grinning, he addresses the large man.

“You’re a big fucker, ain’t you? Name’s Argus, friend. Seems we’ve got a mutual turd that needs plunging. You got a name?”

The man took a confident step off the wall he was leaning against. It may have actually sighed as his bulk released off of it, though that could just be your imagination. He put the hammer over a shoulder, and with a cocksureness responded, "I ain't ya 'friend,' buddy."

Then he smiled. Teeth were awfully straight and white for someone whose outward appearance essentially screamed I hate you, dad! The leather vest, bare chest, various patches, and swathe of ganger tattoos were a perfect juxtaposition against such an immaculate set of teeth.

Picture a mix between these two and this is the dude you're dealing with::

The hammer looked heavy, and both Rhone and Rook - big men themselves - figured that this guy had no trouble swinging it around. A quick look around showed that the front desk was still occupied by the Publican Rook had dealt with upon his arrival some hours earlier. The man watched the interchange while pretending to read a dataslate.

He laughs nervously if anyone glances his way:

Publican:

The majority of the people, about two dozen, mill about beyond the entrance area where the four of you now stand. The majority of them are focused on the street outside, unsurprisingly. They were clear guests of the hotel, but ten or so were clearly affiliated with The Flamboiants as Kenji had referred to them.

"So, buddy. Lookin' for room at the inn, innit?" He looked from Rook to Rhone, then his eyes settled on Kaylith for a moment longer than the last two. "Why you keep bringin' sewer rats to me humble lodgins,' love? Didn't the sign outside say 'No Vacancy'?" With this he turned to glance at the Publican who laughed nervously, bowed, accidentally hit his head on the desk, and then apologized for not having turned on the sign.

Spoiler:

Rhône squares up his stance, staring up at the giant. The grizzled Sergeant was a soldier’s soldier, with a reputation that included a bit of a rebelliousness that had landed him in the penal legions in the first place. Everything that emanated from Rhone’s demeanor was that of a respectable warrior who got dirty in the thick of fighting right next to his men.  He’d dealt with the type before...obviously. The Sergeant had a way with words that were more genuine than manipulative. He looked the ganger in the eyes, imposing his own will while speaking in a manner the brute would understand. Projecting his voice, Rhône addresses the man again

“Yeah, well I ain’t your buddy, pal...but shit’s on fire out there in case you hadn’t noticed. I’d wager you lost men out there to these little beady eyed turd nibblers and I aim to make them pay for what they’ve done. No games...I need a place to call a base of operations. You, admit it or not, could use some well equipped assistance with dishing out a buffet of ass-whoopins to these mutant pricks. Draw blood with us, and we’ll help you take back what’s yours. Now are you a man who’d do what’s best and go to bat for his own....or are you as useless as tits on a Lictor?”

Rhône’s tone was direct, but sincere.

He smiled and shrugged. "Ain't lost anyone yet what didn't deserve it. Flamboiants is tough, we are. Those what died should've listened better."

He considered Rhone's words for a moment. "Well, Don'know what'n'the'Emprah's fuck a 'Lictah' is, but I s'pose they don't have tits, innit? I like that. Titsonna Lictah." He started laughing. "You! Twat!" He turned and pointed a thick index finger at the publican. "You have any vacancy?"

"N-n-no sir. All full, as you said, sir." The man stammered.

The big man's eyes narrowed. He took a step toward the rapidly shaking, much smaller, purple haired fancy pants. "You sayin' this place ain't good 'nuff for me new friends here? Eh? What, can't have the likes of them up here on your mid-level fuck palace, eh?"

"N-no. No. Yes! I mean. Yes, they can... anyone you say can get a room at our est-er, our, that is, fuck palace, sir. Of course!"

The big man's face lightened considerably. He turned to Rhone. "Looks like you got a room then. Right. So, how many are stayin? And what 'ardware are you packin?" With this he looked at Kaylith, grabbed his crotch with a free hand, and smiled. "Speakin' of packin' 'ardware, love, what say you bunk up in my room, eh?"

Rook watched as Rhone went to work, swaying the ganger's humours in the squad's favour. He was impressed at Rhone's casual verbal manouvering of big man, bringing him onside with crude words and base similies. It was a tactic he would have to analyze later if he wanted to become as adept. Of course, he would never mention this to anyone. He blinked twice to log the memories away in his memorance implant.

When the leader grabbed his biological data uploader Rook quirked an eyebrow. I wouldn't do that, lest she be tempted to relieve you of that thing, he thought before looking over at her. He hoped to see a flash of steel and hear a yelp of pain

Rhône grinned along with the giant. These gangers could prove to be useful for the time being.

I appreciate the hospitality, really I do. Right now there’s eight of us, packing genuine Astra Militarum small arms and the know how to use ‘em. Can you believe they trusted a bunch of penal troops with the good stuff? I’ll have a longlas covering that roof, a flamer floating out there somewhere and should anybody uninvited choose to crash our little party.... Rhône pats the bolt pistol at his hip. This little darling spits out .50 calibre, armor piercing, mass reactive rounds. Just one of these little beauties buries itself balls deep, then when it finds the sweet spot....BOOM!! Robs you of everything you worked hard for. I’m sure you and I both know a couple of broads that operate the same, am I right?

Placing his hands on his hips, Rhône’s eyes scan the room. He eyes Rook and Kaylith when the big grox makes the obscene gesture, giving them the universal “just ignore it” glance. He took note of Rook’s distaste for the gesture.  Could ol’ chrome nuts have actually fallen for somebody? With a satisfied nod, Rhône turns back to the ganger.

“I’ve got a couple of my boys and girls out in the wind right now. Any chance you’ve had a run in with them?”

Rhône goes on to describe Artur, Nat, Bazin, Stubbs, Newt, Karsith and Wiremu. As he described each one, the details were vivid. The grizzled Sergeant had a job to do and being undermanned wasn’t part of his plan, but there was more to it than that. Rhône genuinely cared for those under him. He could only hope they weren’t all fodder for the mutant uprising...then again, they were all tough as nails....oh yeah, and there was Wiremu.

[Inside the Westin]

Kaylith's ability not to roll her eyes or lash out in violence showed an indomitable will and a clear experience with this type of behavior.

"Normally, I'd say yes, but the Tech Priest and I got up to so much action on the lower levels that I seem to be spent. Maybe next time though." The subtle sarcasm on the end was lost on the ganger, but the tone indicated that "next time" would be around the same time Orks started preferring badminton to plunder.

+++

The ganger raised his eyebrows at the description of the weapon.

"Gonna 'av to get me one o'them. Maybe off your corpse, eh, mate?" He smiled. It was genuine, and he was clearly making a joke. But it was also a good reminder that convincing someone to let you in the house wasn't the same as convincing them to let you get a taste of their pie.

"You an' yours will be a good addition to bolster the ranks then." He took a step forward and held out his hand to shake Rhone's. If Rhone accepts, it feels like a boulder whose only job was to crush other boulders.

"Name's 'Rancho Cuckamungo,' but everyone calls me 'Cuck.' If you're bringin' all that 'ardware, then post up where you please. Two rules. One: I'm callin' the shots. Two: If it comes time to make a move, then we make a move. No sittin' pretty."

He listened to Rhone's descriptions and shook his head. "Nah, haven't been through here. Just your robot-friend and my fourth wife there with him," he said with an incline of his head to Rook and Kaylith.

+++

[On the Roof]

Ruaidhri and Uallachan made their way up the ladder, first Ruaidhri with a small hop and then Uallachan with an assist from Numa. The tracker covered the alley while they ascended, and once they were clear and Uallachan could cover her, she too made the climb.

The roof was just as they had left it. 50 meters away, across the highway, the taller communications building was in plain view as it was a story taller than the Westin.

About 30 seconds after Rhone disappears with the others Jules gives Cessia a sideways glance to see if she could catch the tech priests eye. Jules was not one to stand in silence unless she had to and about 30 seconds was her limit. She was also intrigued as to what the 'package' might be, although those sort of questions could wait until they were better acquainted.

It was quickly evident that Cessia was more interested in the surroundings than picking up the socials queues of eye contact as her mechandrites bobbed and weaved as they 'sniffed' the place out.

Jules unconsciously pulls her jacket a little straighter, they liked order right, although there was nothing she could do about the dried blood that was smeared over her clothing.

Clearing her throat she turns towards the Tech Priest "Hey, you're Cessia right? I'm Julianna Rodriguez." Jules gives a genuine smile and a nod of the head. She really had no idea if the Cessia was part of Rhones squad or not, perhaps she was crew from the Hudson. She had noted though the priests awkward interaction back at the noodle bar so Jules started the conversation the way Cessia had "I prefer the designation 'Jules'. You part of Rhones unit?"

The moment Jules said anything, all of Cessia's attention was immediately directed towards her. The single mechadendrite that had been poking through the space around them stopped all other efforts and zeroed in on Jules, getting uncomfortably close once again and examining her in every type of detail that Cessia could get. The tech priestess herself also regarded Jules with an almost perfectly neutral expression as she introduced herself.

Cessia turned the rest of her body a few seconds after her head to properly face Jules and engage in what she understood as 'social interaction'.
Cessia also had some dried blood on the hem of her robe and around her hands where she had been handling the corpses of the mutants within the shop they had found her in.

"Acknowledged. Statement: You are correct, Cessia is my preferred designation the same as 'Jules' is yours. I am not part of Rhones unit currently, I have been given a task by my mentor to assist designate: Rook in delivering a package to a tech priest biologis aboard your vessel designated as 'Mae'."
Cessia paused for a few moments, her voice had carried very little emotion and was likely the reason she chose to add prefixes to her statements to insure that nothing was misunderstood as something else. Eventually she continued.
"Query: Are you a part of Rhones unit? Assertion: I do not believe you are given the phrasing of your query, you are likely an outsider that has been pulled into their group. Statement: I would like to know if my hypothesis is correct. Query: What is your preferred area of study?"

That was it. If Cessia was able to look anxious she would have. This was her first attempt at what she had heard referred to as 'Small talk' and she was unsure if she was doing it correctly or if it was even the appropriate place to perform 'small talk' but it was worth an attempt.

Rhône maintained a subtle smile when Kaylith responds to the brute. Fancy or not, she had potential.

Rhône grips Cuck’s hand, noting the man’s vice-like grip when they shake. He’d have to remember to avoid a right hook from the ganger, especially in his current condition. Doing his best to ignore having his hand nearly crushed, Rhône simply smirks and shrugs at Cuck’s comment regarding the bolt pistol. It was a gesture that simultaneously acknowledged the joke, as well as implied “you can try”.

After the brute laid out his rules, Rhône nodded. The Sergeant possessed a tactical mind and was smart enough to not sour the experience by pushing anymore weight around.  If it came down to it, the Bastards would push back when the time was right. Refraining from playing who’s dick had more armor piercing capabilities, Rhône entertained Cuck’s claim.

“Hey, it’s your place, Cuck. We aren’t known for sittin with our thumbs up our asses, you can count on that. Business talk...you know anything about our enemy, other than the fact they can choke on a barrel of grox cocks?”

Jules didn't step back as the mechandrites studied her and the brief look of surprise at the closeness of them quickly passed. She wondered what is was like to be part machine, it was certainly interesting and a little horrifying. No doubt it had its 'bells and whistles' with all that great tech but the cost to the mind was obviously great.

"Your hypothesis is correct. I'm one of those waif and strays Kenji referred to." Jules made a genuine effort to keep to detail and not emotion. She was savvy enough to at least attempt to converse within the comfortable parameters of the Priest of the Omnissiah. There had been plenty of interaction with them aboard her last ship on the medicae decks.

"My area of study is medicine." she knew tech priests had different fields, some were biologists which she had had the most interaction with but also enginseers etc... so it was a good question to ask in return"What is your area of study?"

Cessia got visibly excited when Jules said she studied medicine. Her posture went from stick-straight to slightly leaned forwards as if to hear more of what Jules had to say, and her Mechadendrite pulled back from its physical examination in order for Cessia to fully focus on the conversation.

"Excited Statement: I also study 'medicine', my focus is on areas of cybernetic augmentation as well as potential for biological augmentations to fulfill similar rolls as those powered by the Machine spirit." She made a quick shape of the cog over her chest. "I also have worked on Chymistry for the creation of various materials, and studied field medicine in brief, along with surgery. Query: What areas of 'medicine' do you dedicate your time to. Statement: You are not a tech priestess, your access to proper facilities and research materials must be more limited than what I was able to study."

"I've also some knowledge of chemicals and have assisted twice alongside a biologist during limb replacement with augmetics." Jules gave a small smile at Cessia, she'd found some common ground and the conversation had moved passed small talk.

"As to your query I'm currently a field medic, but have worked 6 years on a rogue trader vessel on the medicae decks so have experience of proper facilities." Jules kept her talk to statements as best she could, but it was she admitted a fucking pain  "I'd have liked to have spent time doing research but I'm a practitioner by designation..." she hoped the Cessia would at least appreciate her sticking to her assigned function "...a Chirurgeon." as some techpriests might see doing research as a higher function. Jules really had no idea, she was winging it and hoping Cessia wouldn't take offence in how she spoke.

"Statement: I have never left this station. Your chances to view things more directly likely created an environment similar to a well stocked data storage area with a narrower focus of data." Cessia held her leaned forward posture as the conversation continued, this was the first time she had ever gotten a chance to really speak with a non tech priest about medical matters, and she was fascinated.

Her Mechadendrite slowly poked out of her robes again to look more closely at the blood on the womans clothing, and wherever else it might be. She was curious who's it was.

"Statement: I am curious what this blood belongs to. Query: Your leader was wounded, is it his. Addition: Our skills augment each other, I believe we will be able to work well together should I stay with this group for a longer period of time. Statement: There are many things I want to create and test that you may be able to provide assistance with. Example: Cybernetics."

She looked down at her blood smeared clothing as she was examined "Yes, this is all Rhones. He was critically wounded, but lucky no organs had been damaged. So it was a relatively simple task to remove the bullets."

Jules could see the opportunity here and she hoped Cessia did stick around as it was a chance for her to expand her knowledge and skill. She'd learnt her trade on the job on the planet Phyrr, patching up the populace from stab wounds to industrial accidents; the penal colony had been a harsh place. Self teaching and time on the rouge trader vessel had rounded her skills.

"I'd welcome the opportunity to work with you and expand my knowledge." Jules' curiosity got the better of her and if Cessia said no it was no skin off her nose "I'm curious to know what the package is, but understand if you cannot tell me. Perhaps it is something I can be of assistance with?"

"Statement: I have only minimal information about the package, only that it must be delivered to a magos Biologis aboard the rogue trader vessel that this unit has been hired onto."
The Mechadendrite pulled away when it was revealed the blood was of such a boring, mundane nature. Cessia had been hoping for mutants, but probability did dictate it was likely Rhone's blood so her disappointment was minimal.

She gave a very stiff nod, something that had been worked out to exact degrees in Cessia's time alone to convey acceptance. "Statement: The opportunity will be granted. We will learn many things from each other I suspect, given our different backgrounds. Query: Why are you staying with the 'Bastards'.

Moving slowly and carefully on their knees, the two Rattlings made their way to the lip of the buildings roof so that they could try and get a look at what the mutants might be up to. The last time their interest had been more curious, observing what was happening and trying to measure the threat that it might pose to them. This time though they were approaching it with a much more practised military eye. The likelihood was that they might be going to assault this building and so there was a lot of important information they would need to try and learn. It was unlikely that Ruaidhri would learn everything which he wanted to find but the more that he did, the better it would be for them.

First up, it would be useful to try and get a rough idea of what kind of numbers they would be dealing with, and what kind of weapons they were using. It was obvious that they were securing the building. He would need to evaluate the different possible points of entry, and check to see if there were any weaknesses in the defence. If possible it would also be important to try and see if he could discern any traps the mutants might have set up. If he were defending such a building he would have mines, or at least caltrops set up to hamper a frontal assault.

From what Brick had told them, the mutants had blocked off the streets. He would need to check to see if he could discover what else they are up to? Were they merely setting up a barricade? Where there additional forces making their way to the building from the outside? There was always the chance that this would be a rallying point, in which case it would be better to attack sooner than later. Also, were the mutants moving quickly or relaxed. Either would suggest that the Bastards move at the same pace.

The red haired rattling gripped his stock tighter as another thought struck him. Physical mutations were one thing- extra arms and increased muscle mass made for different opponents, but what if some of them were mutated inside as well. It would be important to check if he could see any mutants that looked like they might have psychic abilities, any that held staffs, or with obvious trinkets or items. On that side it would also be important to see if any of the mutants had religious iconography.

While his companion's mind was a complicated maze of various possibilities, Uallachan's focus was single minded. He was looking for targets. Anyone who looked in a leadership position. Those in charge died.

Spoiler:

Jules put two and two together; The Hudson was a rogue trader vessel, she definitely wanted aboard. A chance to be 'lost' amongst the stars sounded good, just what she needed. Work on the medicae decks instead of whatever unit Rhone ran would be preferable, but she would roll with whatever was presented to her. Jules was adaptable.

Then Cessia dropped the current million throne question, why was she here following this ragtag group.

I murdered a sanction psyker aboard the Resplendent Light a rogue trader ship who'd learnt I was a witch and then I fell in with a crime syndicate who I'm trying to escape from she thought, which was the truth, but Jules didn't trust anyone here including Rhone with that, at least not all of it.

Always keep your lies simple Jules and base them on the truth

"I'm good at what I do and found myself forced to work for a crime syndicate, I got out when I could and think it wise to get off Port Wander as soon as possible. The Hudson seems like a good opportunity"

If Cessia noticed any concern on Jules part she didn't show it.
"Statement: I am glad you are free from the life of crime you had been forced into. Query: You are not wanted or in trouble with the Arbites, correct. Concern: I do not want to associate with criminals if at all possible, though should the mission require it then I can adjust my moral parameters."

Cessia gave what seemed to be a very forced smile to Jules in what she had vaguely decided was a comforting way though in reality it was very strange and lopsided. She was making friends! This was good. Now she just had to do this another X amount of times, where X equals the number of people aboard the Hudson.
She was not looking forward to that.

Rhone wrote:

“Hey, it’s your place, Cuck. We aren’t known for sittin with our thumbs up our asses, you can count on that. Business talk...you know anything about our enemy, other than the fact they can choke on a barrel of grox cocks?”

Cuck laughed heartily. Unsurprisingly dick jokes were something he could appreciate. "No. 'aven't had a chance to kill them yet. Been stickin' to their side. At least, they 'aven't come in here." He looked Rhone up and down. "I'm assumin' that was you what done all the shootin' in the alley. Venturin' a wild guess that you waddn't shootin' up the townfolk, eh?"

+++++++

Ruaidhri wrote:

Spoiler:

Remember the -10 PER test environmental penalty. Also, give me a stealth test -20 (this reflects you having been spotted up here before)

Ruaidhri sees that the mutants have been busy in the thirty minutes or so since they had descended the ladder and met up with Rhone and Rook. The street had been blocked off completely on both ends; large civilian transport vehicles acted as mobile, make shift gates for the wall of smaller civilian cars and trucks. People could still move freely on the sidewalk if they chose, but getting any sort of large transport through was severely hindered.

Mutants were setting up static defense positions behind cars in both directions. It was as if they were expecting resistance and getting prepared to repel it. There were at least two squads (20) mutants on the street, half setting up to defend "east" and half setting up to defend the western approach. Interestingly there wasn't a force dedicated to covering the Westin or the alley beside it. Perhaps they figured that area secure. Perhaps the goons Rhone and the new girl Jules had dispatched were meant to be their insurance plan? It was all conjecture at this point.

The big mutant whom Ruaidhri was convinced had spotted him before stands confidently among the two squads giving orders and periodically speaking with a runner who disappears into the building.

The roof of the building was impossible to see as it was a single story higher than The Westin.

However, what was extremely interesting to Ruaidhri was the solitary figure walking down an alleyway to the right of the enemy stronghold. It was a male, late teens/early twenties, who looked like absolute shit. His clothes were torn and bloodied, as was his face. He looked like he had been through the ringer. Most interesting was the flak armor he wore across his body that was all shot to shit. He took a couple of steps more and then carefully opened a door and headed into the enemy building. So, at least Ruaidhri knew there was an alley entrance.

But what the hell was Bazin doing? And why in the Emperor's Holy Nutsack wasn't Newt with him?

Perhaps a minute goes by before some commotion grabs Ruaidhri's attention. The big mutant turns, giving Ruaidhri a look at a big maul across its back, and stares at something from inside the building. He takes step forward before  blast shatters the glass of the first floor. There's a whoosh of flame that quickly goes away. From within, someone was yelling. The big mutant barks at the troops on the road to hold their positions before rushing inside.

Spoiler:

Rhône bites his tongue at the comment. He was sure Cuck and his gang’s favorite pastime was taking shots at civilians. The temptation to rattle the ganger’s nerves was a strong one, but the Sergeant hadn’t gotten to where he was by giving into every impulse. He held the shit-eating grin.

“Definitely wasn’t townsfolk, Cuck....but yeah, that’d be us doing the shooting earlier. Turd nibblers ruined favorite jacket too.”

Rhône barks out to those waiting nearby.

“Coast is clear ladies and gents. Come on in and meet my new friend, Cuck!

He looks back over to the large man.

“I’d prefer to share the wealth of our recon with you, so if it’s no skin off your back, I’d like to setup a staging area down here so we pool our resources to better neutralize these little cock wrinkles.”

Rhône looks over to Rook and nods. The look had a slight hint of “good work” to it as the first phase of the plan was well underway.

Before Cuck can respond there is a gasp from the main lobby. A blast from across the highway booms out and some of the people gathered inside the Westin screamed, yelped, and pointed. Voices fluttered through at random.

"Somethin' just blew up across the street!"

"How do you know? I can't see grox shite!"

"What was that?"

"Oh my god, are they terrorists then?"

"Terrorists? Here? On sub-level 8? Woman are you daft? Only low-level scum are terr-"

"Is everyone OK?"

It didn't look like anyone or anything in the Westin had been damaged.

Rhône jerks his facing towards the source of the sound. While he remained mostly rigid, his knees took the slightest crouch and his hand subtly hovered over the bolt pistol at his side. His muscles prepared to take action. His mind calculated not only his own position, nor only the positions of his own men, but the positions of all present in his general vicinity, and their proximity to cover. Artillery....? Unlikely. Out of his peripheral vision, he calculated contingencies and prioritized troop placement based on knowledge of the weapons load outs of those present.  He looked to the doors....still secure. He eyed Cuck....no imminent threat. He looked to the ceiling for falling debris....The building hadn’t taken a direct hit. Only four seconds had passed.

“Everybody away from the windows. Rook, with me. Kaylith, head to the roof and get me a situation report from Ruaidhri and Uallahan.”

He’d need Jules in case somebody was injured. Rhône made ready to sprint into action, but was suddenly caught off guard by the pain in his sudden movement. His wounds were starting to irk him.

No one in the main lobby even turned to regard Rhone, much less listen to him. They stayed plastered to the windows, a small group in the connected bar talking and laughing nervously to take the edge off.

Cuck walked off to a group of his own and started trying to get answers, but there was a lot of shrugs.

Kaylith eyed Rhone and then Rook. If he paid her any attention at all given the new set of directives, she responds, "Don't you go worrying about me now, Rooky. A quick trip up a ladder and back down again shouldn't be too bad. Take care not to get into any trouble." She gave a mischievous grin and darted off.

It took Kaylith no time at all to get back outside and ascend the ladder. She whispered that she was coming up in the event that someone was covering the ladder. Sure enough, when she crawled over the top she saw Numa lowering her las carbine. Taking a hint from everyone else being knelt down, she too knelt and started making her way to the Ratlings. When she was about halfway, she stopped behind a cooling unit and caught one of their attention. She then whispered: "Rhone wants to know what's going on."

Cessia abruptly turned to enter the room that Rook and the others had gone into the moment Rhone proclaimed that it was okay. The conversation with Jules was, for now, forgotten. She would ask her question again later.
And she was about half in the room when the explosion sounded off and everyone began to, in her eyes, panic and vastly over react. She simply took stock of the area, no one was wounded and the structure of the house itself seemed to be intact and stable. They were not hit by the explosion, it was somewhere nearby, and thus for now she concluded that they were all safe.

So she finished entering the room, and after looking around once more she found a spot in a corner to simply stand and wait to be told what to do and what was going on. She was not a warrior, and unless someone commanded her to shoot something to protect the package, she was unlikely to take any action apart from observation and medical assistance should it be necessary and Jules was distracted.

"Introduction: Hello designate: Cuck." She uttered as she entered the room, since Rhone had said that all should meet his new friend and she did not want to dissapoint.

Spoiler:

Rook grinned after the explosion subsided. Coming from inside the mutant's base of operations, it could only mean good things for them. When Rhone called him to move, he slung the stubber into the ready position and followed his lead. As Kaylith departs he replies, Rhone will suffice for now if there is an issue, but do not dally up there. I'll need you again before too long, I'm sure.

Spoiler:

Ruaidhri took his time observing the scene in front of him, making no significant movements or judgements. He and his partner had been careful on their approach, they shouldn't be under danger of fire yet. And even if they were, it was better to know one thing accurately than a lot of half details. It presented a difficult situation, though with some potential. Infantry man's bloody primer would have asked for some artillery, even if only mortar which along with sniper fire could provide cover. If they had anything hard an repeating in one of their upper windows, worst case heavy bolter, though even an autogun could blast a frontal attack three sides from Feckday.

The fact that there was no force dedicated to their direction was also curious. Either it represented a mistake on the mutants behalf, guessing that the force they'd sent out would be enough, or it was a trap. The area to the front might be mined. It might be prepared for a shooting gallery. Or they might be waiting on their men to return and vulnerable there.

Ruaidhri was just considering this when he caught sight of Bazin. He was too well trained to make any noise, but his face tightened as he watched the figure move into the building. What the feck was he up to? He'd clearly been in some kind of fight but to enter the mutant HQ so openly? Either he was punch-drunk, or.... Could he have somehow convinced the mutants to take him on side? He was surely not biological....

Ruaidhri didn't blink as the explosion blasted trough the building, he couldn't afford to miss anything. But inside he felt a sudden bone deep weariness. He'd never been particularly close to Bazin, but they had served alongside each other longer than he cared to count. Him and Toreth had been original Bastards. That built up a level of brotherhood. And now another of them were dead. There wasn't time for it now, but if they got out of this, they'd pay their respects later.

That was for another time though. If they were not to end up in a similar situation he would need to examine this. And wonder, where Newt might be? Until he actually saw the body, he wasn't inclined to count any Bastard out. Becoming aware of the figure behind him, he nodded his head ever so slightly, before slowly sliding back away from the edge and crawling over to meet Kaylith. Moving his head close to hers, he whispered.
"Its shitty, I'm fairly sure one of our team Bazin, set off that blast in there. He won't survive that. I'll follow you back down. Need to brief Rhone on what else we've seen."

Rancho Cuckamungo briefly looked back at Cessia as she addressed him.

"Emperor's Holy Arse, you guys are multipyin' now or what? I never laid eyes on full-on gearheads and metal mouths in all me days, an' now there's two of 'em in here with me. Can't be a coincidence."

He didn't await a response before gesturing that Cessia get busy being productive or get out of the way.

+++++++

Kaylith nods at the Ratling and follows him down, leaving Numa topside covering the ladder.

Before long, and with attention well off of them, they make it back inside the Westin to report.

Spoiler:

Jules flinched and involuntarily ducked down as the explosion reverberated through the hotel, it had clearly come from outside. While she was scared shitless she kept calm and stayed down in a crouched position by the door to the office. Amongst the shouting and panic she looked about for wounded, it was a natural instinct that she looked out for others.

Then she heard Rhones command Jules reminded herself that she already had a patient and one that shouldn't be running off half cocked. She'd not known Rhone for long but she was sure his macho tendencies would see him looking to get into the action. She saw his wince of pain as he moved.

Shaking her head at him she stepped in front of him blocking him for a moment "You need rest and you've plenty of people here to do the work for you. Back up solider" Jules voice was stern and the look in her eye would tell Rhone an argument was brewing if he declined.

Ruaidhri and Uallachan moved through the doors into the Westin, with Kaylith behind them, continuing until they came to the room that the other two Bastards and the various detritus had washed up. As he entered, Ruaidhri passed his eyes briefly over Rancho before focusing his attention on Rhone. Uallachan leered generally over everyone, his eyes finally falling on Rook who he gave a roguish wink.

"Nice digs sir. Just need a desk now."
There was little humour in the red headed Rattlings voice though when he spoke and he shook his head as he withdrew the familiar black pipe from inside his jacket.
"Bad news on the blast you just all heard. I'm fairly sure it was Bazin that caused it, and unless that Bastard is playing 3rd level pity thy neighbour I'm doubt he'll have survived."

Pausing momentarily, he twirled the pipe between his fingers, before fixing his green eyes on the Sargent again.
"A minute or so before it all went off, we saw him make his way into a side entrance. He was on his own, no sign of Newt. There was a bit of disturbance and then off the blast goes. Maybe he sets it off and finds somewhere to hide but I doubt it. Took some of them down though. Otherwise we spent our time up there checking out the situation."

Uallachan, who had moved on to scanning the room for any alcohol, joined his partner at this point.
"Big ugly fecker seems in charge sir. Imagine one of my ball sacks given life and had spawned with Stubbs mother to create him a big brother, and you get the idea."
"About two squads on the street split in half, applying static defence positions east and west, the two main approaches. Nothing seemingly pointed in this direction, though I have my suspicions with that. From what we could see, at least another squad on the second floor. Some movement on the third too but less. Couldn't see the roof, as this building is lower, but bound to be something. Seems to be two entrances- main one straight ahead, and the one on the east side that Bazin went through."

Rhône’s eyes narrowed at Jules as he stood with his hands on his hips. His command presence was strong, but he had a bend at the waist and it was obvious he was using the weight of his palms against his hips to hold himself upright. Rhône hated sitting on the sidelines. Even at the battle of dusty canyon on Hervara when he found himself in charge of the entire company, Rhône abandoned his Chimera command vehicle to join Seventh in the final assault. As much as he hated to admit it, the girl was right....The Bastards were more than capable. That didn’t stop him from trying to put up a fight initially.

“I...but they....Grox shit, woman....”

In a rare occasion, Rhône was lost for words. His facial features lightened. While he said nothing further to Jules, she could tell the next words out of his mouth were likely along the lines of “You’re right”.


Rhône turned to the Ratlings, a look on his face they had likely never seen before...it was defeat. With a quirked brow, he listens intently to their report. The potential information that Bazin could have perished simply wasn’t a thought to Rhône. Bazin was in trouble...this information only made it more painful to sit out.

Uallahan’s artistic skill at describing the mutant in charge was enough to cause the grizzled Sergeant to shudder. It was just as likely a legitimate feeling of disgust just as much as it was feigned for the sake of humor.

“Good work you little shits. Alright ladies and germs, listen up. I need one pair of eyes on those mutants to monitor their movement so the main team has a heads up if they’re coming to crash the party. A small team will go in and secure Bazin. From there we can get a lead on Newt’s location and potentially the others, and report back here to figure out our next step. Uallahan, that lady friend of yours that stares at you like a Phyfe cat in heat....let’s get her on point. Figure out who’s doing what, get in and get out .”

The Sergeant was clearly troubled. Rhône had taken to looking after Bazin after Toreth’s death. Even if he wasn’t overt about it, Rhône felt directly responsible for the kid. With his concentration stretched from his wounds, he made little effort to hide his concern.

Cessia stayed silently in the corner watching the goings on with no small amount of interest. She was learning about her new group through observation of how they acted with eachother. Jules was obviously in charge, she had told Rhone what to do and he listened, which meant she ranked higher than he did. Surprising considering the original introductions, but Cessia would manage. Rhone was second in command then, and more directly led the other even lower ranked people. A very interesting example of delegation on Jules part, so much so that it hardly even seemed she was really in charge.

Cessia moved forward when the second in charge started to assign tasks. She approached Jules specifically and waited until it seemed she wasn't busy to speak.
"Query: What task could I perform during this rescue attempt? Assessment: I am approximately average to below average, and I do not have combat experience beyond training sessions. Statement: I believe it would be best for me to remain here to treat any injuries should they occur."

Jules had expected an argument from Rhone so she gave him an appreciative smile when he accepted what was only logical "The more rest you get the quicker you'll heal and besides we need back-up here if needed. You don't expect that to be me and Cessia do you." she hoped her reasoning would mollify him.

With Rhone dealt with she was going look around for any wounded as it was her natural inclination to help people and perhaps someone by a window had been wounded by the blast from outside. She stopped for Cessia though and listened patiently "That sounds logical, unless a medic might be of use with the those heading out." Jules turned back to Rhone and "What do you think about a medic going out with those looking for your squad mate?" she nods back indicating to Cessia.

Uallachan sees that just beyond the main lobby, to the right (east) there is a bar. There is a man standing behind it, clearly the barkeep, but his attention is occupied like that of the others guests; he is staring outside the big exterior windows to try and get a ready on the rapidly uncertain situation out there.

++++++++

As the rest talked among themselves to figure out the next plan of action, there was a buzz of static from outside. Then, after a few moments, a voice. It was clearly female, and smooth like silk. It held a confidence and a calm, not unlike Kaylith. It obviously wasn't Kaylith. The journalist who had accompanied Rook below looked just as perplexed as everyone else.

It was coming from the streets outside. Someone was using the level-wide Vox system. The same system that had announced the curfew almost two hours earlier. Only this was not the Arbites.


The voice cut off abruptly. Though, you had a feeling you hadn't heard the last of her. People in the lobby started to talk among themselves, with a few gesturing toward the door. Immediately, Cuck spoke up.

"Oi! Listen up you lot. That clever cunny may be offerin' you freedom the likes of which you could only imagine or whatever, but I am supreme king in this establishment. An' the first cunt who lays his hand upon that door to open it to the nice freaks outside will get their heads bashed in."

He patted the large hammer against his huge palm. "Try me. Please. Been a while since Ol' Painless here tasted blood."

That seemed to calm things for the time being. A few of the other Flamboiants laughed it off, but a handful other kept a very stern, thoughtful look on their brows.

Outside, the situation switched once again. In the distance to the West (left if you are facing the highway from the front of the westin), sirens could be heard. Perhaps the blast brought out the Arbites? Though, where they had been up to this point was still a mystery. From the sound of the sirens, they would be here within a minute or two.

Ruaidhri shrugged his shoulders, and twirled the black stem of his pipe between his fingers. He looked like he was about to say something, before the loudspeaker started up outside and he shut his mouth to listen as well. Following the finish of the speaking Ruaidhri looked up at Rhone.
"We can provide the eyes sir. I'd say we'll make our position on the second floor though. Their building is taller than ours, and anyone on the roof will have a clear spot of us, plus the area is hotter than my hairy hole. Rooky was saying something about vox. If we have two parts of that, one should probably be with us, and the other with the team."

He paused to scratch his beard while Uallachan came over to them.
"We'll ask ol Bricky, but she's her own. No guarantee she'll go for this forlorn hope. Because to be honest sir, that's what it sounds like. Sending a small team in to scout out the enemy base needs stealth. And without Artur, and me and him doing overwatch, who do you have? Brick and....? He has many talents but Rook is as subtle as a light up dildo. You've said you're out what with being a shag away from death. So we're left with the civilian medics."

Uallachan scratched his cheek as he yawned.
"Who may be as capable as they are of shifting me with their eyes."
"Perhaps. Who am I to say? What I can say is what I saw. Bazin went straight into that building, without heed or backup sir. It was a suicide run and he knew it. He was one of us, and a Bastard never leaves another behind. I would advise caution though sir. If we are going to strike these mutants we do it with our full force rather than squander surprise and opportunity on a rescue. Its doubtful Bazin knew where any of the others were. Him and Newt were the last to separate from us."
Ruaidhri placed the pipe back into his jacket.
"Tis our two farthings anyway. If its still your intent we can get Brick and see if she's up for this."

While Ruaidhri, and to a lesser extent Uallachan, says his piece, Rook takes out the short-range Vox and puts a call in to Poo-Beyah. The man answers back after a few moments.

"Ey, brah. Good to hear you not dead, yeah? Cleaned out some freaks after I gathered the homies. Started goin' pipe by pipe, blastin'. Fuckers ain't so tough when they don't got surprise. Smell like shit though. So whaddup den, bra?"

The vox was remarkably clear. Every fourth word or so cut out, but it was much better than before. When Rook explained the situation, there was a pause.

"Need some backup den? Say da word den, bra. I can sen' some of the homies da Westin, jus' meet 'em in da tunnels below."

Rhône idly rubs his beard as Jules speaks. Although what she was saying was true, he knew what she was doing. Rhône had turned persuasion to a form of art; it wasn’t difficult to see when it was being used on him....and still it was working....mostly. He considers the suggestion as he glances over at Cessia, then back to Jules.

“You mean her? The one introducing herself to air..”

He smirks and gives Cessia a wave before turning back to Jules.

“It’s true Bazin might be in need of medical attention, but this is going to have to be a quick op that relies on stealth. We’ll await a call for a medic via vox to reduce the amount of bodies heading over.”

Rhône turns to Ruaidhri and Uallahan. He appreciated the Ratlings for their jabs at Rook, their unfiltered opinions, and their stellar performance in dealing death from afar, but Rhône’s eye twitches at the last suggestion.

“Let me get this straight...you’re telling me Bazin ran into a building...alone...an explosion occured...and now he’s just simply dead?  No visual of a death...cut and dry, just a corpse....let’s move on? Ruaidhri, I’ve always bragged to other folk that you and ol’ Uallahan could sell sand to a Tallarn pottery peddler during a wind storm, but right now I’m going to need more than what you’re trying to propose. You could be absolutely right at the end of all this. Bazin could be a smoldering pile of ash, and I’d still stand by my decision to give it our all to confirm that before leaving anybody behind. To put it in the same word you used...I’d squander the same on the two of you if you were in his position...Now unless you’ve got more than a hunch and an explosion, we owe more to that kid. Bring back a living, breathing demolitions expert...or Emperor forbid, get me some ident tags so we can get on with this. I trust you and your abilities Ruaidhri. With Artur in the wind, you, Uallahan and Brick if she’s willing are are specialists on this operation. You know the mission....make it happen.”

Rhône gritted his teeth. Whether at the pain from his wounds, or the prospect that  Bazin had found his penitence was anybody’s guess.

Ruaidhri gave Rhone a long look. His bearded face showed little expression.
"Sir, what I'm telling you is that Bazin walked through the side door into the main base of a substantial group of mutants. After some disturbance a sizeable explosion rocked that floor of the building, likely incinerating a large number of its residents. I'm also telling you sir, that the only forces you have at your disposable capable of being stealthy are also your only snipers. I'm not suggesting sir that we leave him behind, just that when we make our strike for him, we make it as one that counts. If you wish to squander though sir, that is your privilege."

He turned his head, and he and his companion shared a brief wordless communication, before he turned to look at the others.
"Right, we'll do our best to persuade Brick to lead this operation. She's pretty skilled. If we are lucky, these sirens might be something to distract these guys. It sounded Jules, like you were interested in coming along."
He looked over and gave the tech priest a caustic grin.
"What about you Rook? It sounds like a bit of a hole, but where better for a dildo eh?"

Rhône kneels down with a grunt, speaking in a low tone once Ruaidhri finishes addressing the group.

“That Sir shit is starting to sound like you’ve got me pegged for the same assholes higher up that don’t give a damn about any of us. You might wear the same size pants as a fuckin’ baby, but I have never known you to act like one. You tell me one time when your lives weren’t a priority of mine...I trust you with my damned life... I’m trusting you with his. If it’s dangerous, get on that vox and bring them home...but if there’s a chance he’s in there, I owe it to Toreth to bring him back.”

"I could go." Kaylith's voice came from out of nowhere, as she hadn't said much since the conversation started, but it was even and calm.

"No offense, Rooky, but stealth is much more my game than yours, you big hunk of meat and metal. Probably not as good as Numa or you two, that's for certain, but I can be discreet. Kind of my job."