Chapter 4: Godless Prophets and the Migrant Flora (IC)

The blues, purples, and oranges of Hervara's polluted skies melted away behind you for the last time. The planet, more like a hole, had been one of many such worlds; broken by the rapid expansion of industry with no concern or care for the natural environment, the planet had begun to die. Though that death would take generations to come to fruition, it meant nothing as long as its mineral resources could provide for the Imperium. No matter how many soldiers, secessionists, or xenos died there, the industry would carry on. The war machine would be fed.

Above that war-torn, oddly beautiful expanse sat a ship in geosynchronous orbit. The Hudson stayed aligned with the planet, turning as it did, following in perfect step the stellar dance it found itself in. Every once in a while the glint of some celestial light, often from the planet itself, would send a glimmer across its armored hull. Aeons old, it had been in the Aldon family for generations - passed down from heir to heir until it found its way into Jakkoby's worthy hands. While not infamously mighty or powerful, the Aldon's had kept a reputable name for themselves amongst the noble houses of Rogue Traders. His predecessor, however, had nearly brought the dynasty to financial ruin. This included the near loss of The Hudson to one of the dyansty's many rivals the galaxy held. It had been up to Jakkoby to restore the ship, and the family's name and honor.

It sat like a ray of hope against the dark backdrop - a sharp contrast to the bleakness of the war torn planet. Gothic architecture mixed with the technological prowess of humanity just after its height to create a versatile, Imperial man-o-war. Smaller than most Imperial Naval ships, but still big enough to hold the population of a small city, Sword-Class frigates such as it were highly prized by all void-farers for their speed and firepower. The Hudson was a testament to that legacy.

Of course, from the transport ship, none of the Bastards could appreciate it. Surely few cared at all; the ride from planet-side was one of the most comfortable rides most had had in recent memory, if not ever. The level of luxury they were experiencing - moderate at best in Rogue Trader standards - was unheard of for penal legionnaires. Before anyone could get too used to it, the docking announcement rang out. One after another, the three ships were welcomed by the waiting Hudson. With the heavy return of artificial gravity and a soft thud, the Bastards landed.

Squad leaders, not wanting discipline to break down or, more likely, not wanting to look sloppy in front of who was already being referred to as the "new boss" began moving out squads in an organized manner. The hangar bay was expansive and clean. Everything seemed to be well organized. Tech priests attended the transport ships and the smell of incense and holy machine oil surrounded them wherever they went. More surprising was the other military personnel in the bay. They wore olive green fatigues for the most part, some wearing distinct round brim hats with one side pinned up. They talked among themselves. They were clearly sizing the new-comers up, but not in a hostile manner. In fact, most of them seemed bored.

As the Bastards gathered together within the bay, Captain Aldon clambered onto a mechanical lift, hoisting himself some feet into the air so he could be seen by all.

"Welcome, Bastards!"

There were some chuckles from the men spread throughout the room. Aldon frowned and turned toward them. "I will have you know that I am not the rudest host in three sectors. These are the 666th Emperor's Bastards." The men and women in green fatigues stifled their giggles and allowed Jakkoby to return to his address. A few of them offering up their sincerest apologies to "Cap'n Jakk."

He turned and faced you once more. "Actually, now that I think on it, I don't know if it is proper that I refer to you as such. I will discuss the pleasantries of it later. Lieutenant Bishop has already been briefed as to your living situations - but we still have to assign individual's their habs. That will take some time. So for now, relax here and wait for your hab assignment. Feel free to mingle with the locals." He smiled and jerked a thumb back toward the gigglers. "The Chindits are a good bunch, but a little rowdy for my tastes. Welcome to The Hudson." He winked and walked off as two aids ran up to him with auto-quills and data slates.

Lieutenant Bishop had already started arranging the company to best receive the details of ther living situation. For now, all there was to do was wait and enjoy your surroundings...

A scruffy looking armsmen in the olive green, with short black curly hair and an oversized mustache that both looked as unkempt as his uniform, had been watching the arrival turned and started walking towards some of the bastards.

As he approached he started speaking in a loud voice.

"Tēnā koutou! Tēnā koutou!..."

Another armsmen from those standing around, interrupted him quickly.

"Shut up Wiremu! You know nobody else speaks your language!!"

Wiremu turns and gives the armsmen who spoke up the finger.

"Shit man cant you see these fullas are fucked up as. Im trying to welcome them all proper like and make them feel at home!"

He turns back to the bastards and gives them a big grin.

"Anyways! Welcome to The Hudson. Im Wiremu Raukawa, of the 404th Indira Chindits. Best operator in the squad! Dont look so nervous! Kaumatua Aldon is a good cunt to work for. You will work hard, but shit man, still waaay better than slogging around with the rest of them guardsman. You fullas have any questions. You hit up ol Wiremu and i will sort you out! Chur boys."

He turns back and walks back towards his squad, starting to cuss them out about proper welcomes.

Stubbs had been lookin' out da winda at the comin' ship and took it all in. Just what the feth be happenin' to all dem. It waddn't like this in life. Hell nah, it was like one of dem miracles. Shit, Empruh be praised and all. Feth it was nice treatment they be gettin' frum their new boss man. 

Damn girl, wish you could see where we ended up. Woulda been real nice ta have ya next ta me...


The big man sighs and be takin' another drink frum offered. It was so damn comfy, he damn near fell asleep a couple times...

+++++

The big man jumps a bit as he gets awakened by da new gravity that shifts him down-like into his seat. It was gud to feel dat. Dat comfy gravity. The big man neva did like da flyin'...and afta tha last time they wus in tha sky...shit. Nah thanks. 

He makes his way out da transport wit da othas, lookin' round at all tha new shit ta look at. 

And it be niceeeeeee. 

"SHIT SARGE, WE AIN'T DREAMIN' IS WE?" 


Stubbs is still lookin' round like as the big man gives his speech, finally noticin' near tha end that people be lookin' at sumthing. He turns his big ol head towards tha new boss man as he is finishin', tryin' to make out what he be sayin'. 

But nothin'. 

Stubbs watches the Chindit approach, ready fuh anythang afta tha way they be treated most o' tha time. 

Aight, so he big, but I can take 'em. Throw a left hook inta...

But the big guy seems friendly. A new fethin' thang happens eeryday, Stubbs thinks to hisself as the man continues to speak and then walks away. Stubbs had heard none of it. 

"SHIT SO WHAT NOW?"

As the Bastards began to file in a loud screech sounded bringing everyone's attention to a very tall, red-robed figure. Her green eyes were hollow and while most of her face was obstructed by a respirator, her cheeks where gaunt as well. Peeking over her shoulders were all sorts of gears, saws, and scalpels waving ominously, and a coiled optical mechadendrite swayed beside her left ear, like a viper poised to strike.

With most of the new crew's attention drawn to her, a demure voice echoed out from -- somewhere... "All new personnel are required to visit me for your medical examination. You will be deloused and disinfected before you can contaminate the rest of the ship." Her tone was blunt, and her expressions (or as much of it as they could see) remained unchanged as she spoke. She seemed ignorant to the rudeness of her words (though the Bastards were hardly the sort to care). She turned abruptly and walked to the medical station.

Karsith sat quietly on the bus. His friend, since his original incarceration, had left in an instant, gone forever. At the same time, he was relieved to finally be rid of that rock, and his collar. He had held on to the eviscerator and his family heirloom, not letting anyone touch the knife but himself. He moved with the rest of the squad quietly, still acclimating to his new environment as they arrive to the Hudson. He stared at everyone else as they got off the shuttle, moving with them to hear Captain Aldon's speech. Karsith stared at the man who awkwardly spoke to what remained of the 666th, maybe they would work more closely after the Bastards had a chance to rest.

Karsith moved to meet with the medic as she spoke, with only minor grumbling about her being another cog-head. At this point he was only responding to the environment, unsure of how to take in the new setting. "Don't feth the braids." He says to the thing as he presents himself for the exam.

Bazin and Newt both looked around dumbfounded and deaf-ish. They little comprehended what was going on.

They stuck together like glue, afraid the new overlords would try and rip them apart.

They both simply keep thier mouths shut and follow Rhone's example.

After the toweringly tall tech-priestess medicae gave her orders, the administrators situated near her began the process of allocating lodging by calling names and ID numbers. Lieutenant Bishop had gone first - leading by example as he was wont to do. Without hesitation he stepped to the medicae, who stood over him by at least another head, and let her process begin. Bastards called after Bishop were similarly checked and then occularly scanned, had their palm prints recorded, and were asked to give an inventory of all personal effects including gear and weaponry that they had brought aboard The Hudson. At no time were voices raised at them, nor was anything asked to be handed over or confiscated. Once names and personal information had been collected, and assuming the medicae had already physically inspected them, they were asked to link up with their unit. Full units who completed the registration process then moved out as a group, led by a servitor, to their new living spaces.

Most of the assembled Chindits began to mingle with some of the Bastards. Say one thing about them, say that they weren't a particularly shy lot. It turned out they were from the 214th Regiment of Indira Chindits, more commonly known as the "Creeping Death." As it turned out, they were Astra Militarum (just as an aside, this is the new name for the Imperial Guard). However, their unit apparently had a relatively new deal with House Aldon. As the story went, Captain Jakkoby and his crew were instrumental in "saving the asses" of the 214th when they were cut off and surrounded by chaos raiders during a short and brutal skirmish on Monrass***, a lush, tropical backwater in the Drusus Marches***. The unit commander was so thankful that he formally attached a platoon of the best Chindits in his regiment and decreed to supply manpower to the Rogue Trader whenever he so needed.

It was a telling tale. For one, regardless of the Rogue Trader's intentions or reasons for involving himself in the battle, his actions saved Astra Militarum lives. It also allowed him a steady supply of armsmen should he need. As some Bastards were mulling this over, the obvious question of, "Why take on the Bastards as well?" began to come up. Perhaps it was a question to ponder, or perhaps it didn't matter at all. Most of the Bastards weren't philosophers after all; they were content with the fresh air, fresh food that was supplied, and lack of orks trying to kill them on a polluted planet.


***
Monrass (planet)
Drusus Marches (sub sector)

Nat found Artur sitting on his bunk before they were due to leave, he held a dunted water canteen in one hand and a dog tag in the other

"Ya good boss?"

"Aye lass, s'all good, jus' finishin' da bottle 'fore t' Creepy Kroeg bastids nab it." he grins at her paasing the bottle to her as he pockets the dog tag and she smiles downing the rest of the canteen and instantly regrets it.

"You drink some foul stuff boss." Artur barks out a laugh

"Guess it'll be more yer style workin' fer da Cap'n eh? Ri' less gi' movin'"


**************

The trip remains uneventful Nat spending most of it talking about the 7ths last mission with what remains of her old squad and Artur sleeps.

When the Bastards finnally get through the process of boarding the ship and the Chindits start mingling Artur grins at clasping one of the Chindits on the shoulder

"So who wan's t' 'ear 'bout 'ow we ended up on dat mess o' a world?"

The Chindit turned to regard Artur and Nat. He was broad shouldered, yet lithe. He looked as though he could run ten miles and still have enough energy to pull a tree stump from the ground. His skin was tan and his black hair was hidden under his wide brimmed hat with half of it pinned up on the left side. Most interesting were the markings that lined his chin and lower half of his face. You would find out they called them Ta Moko in Chindit. Dark and tribal, they were a cultural remnant from their homeworld.

He introduced himself with a big, meaty, calloused palm as Kauri. "Kia Ora, mate. Quite an accent you've got there. Don't know I'll get all the details," he said with a wink. "No bother, bro; reckon we're ready for a choice tale." He smiled a maw of large, white teeth and motioned for a few other Chindits to come hear the story.

EDIT: As Wiremu's insistence, more Chindits begin coming forward and introducing themselves. Surprisingly, few are reluctant to do so even though some Bastards still haven't done away with their det-collars and everyone's armor has prisoner numbers stenciled on. While there would no doubt be tensions among the regiments as a whole, this group was at least pleasant.

"You know Uallachan, I really get the impression that we left something behind. Some particularly odious business that we never completed"

The two rattlings were staring down at the devastated terra firma, as they powered up into the atmosphere. Ruaidhri had a particularly grim look on his normally insouciant face. His companion though looked as blithe as ever.
"I left my mark down there."
"We failed to get any proper revenge"
"A big thick, wet mark"
"That horse shagged Commisar is owed a bullet and its going to weigh in my gun til its shot"
"I dressed it up too. Stark bleeding obvious"

Ruaidhri finally turned to look at his spotter.
"You did a poo right?"
"Not just a poo, Ru. You fail to see the majesty of my message. In the middle of the canteen, standing upright and tall. I got some corn shavings to give him lapels and a cape and some hardened rat dung for the hat. And then just in case I scrawled his name next to it, just so he knows."
He gave Ruaidhri a lopsided grin.
"One bullet now and one later"
"One later my friend"

************************************************
The two had followed the rest of the bastards aboard, their keen eyes automatically looking for cubby holes, or places to foxhole in. Uallachan gave the metal floor a prod with his boot and then a hearty thoat of flem.
"Bit clean all this eh? I've had virgin nun's who were dirtier than this place. Kinda suspicious like. Not following the good book at all. 'Where there's dirt there is sin, and that is a hole I'd like to be in.' St Lusty to the arse ticklers of Fannybrook."
"I wonder why they brought us in? Doesn't look like he is in particular need of service. We've done nought for him and we seem to be getting the royal treatment. Mind you, tis better to take it while it lasts"
There was a distinct clinking sound as he turned to look at Rhone
"Suspicious at all sir?"

Uallachan was staring at the giant mechanical figure who had just spoken. Raising his arms he gave his hips a little shake.
"I'm way overdue for an inspection love. I think you'll have to get indeep and personal with me though. There are all manner of beasties down there, most unknown to science. My time is of course yours to enjoy"

Turning away from his sergeant, Ruaidhri looked up at the newcomers crowding round.
"Nice to see ya Chindits. Whose got the goss on this place then? How plentiful can you find the inalienable pleasures of life?"

Bazin hesitantly steps into the scanner and lets the medicae-biologis do their work. Behind the scanners and consoles he could hear some muttering, only making out a few words through the bleeding ears..

Ruptured tympanic membrane...

Contusions to spleen and liver.....

Hematomas.....

Scarred lungs from excessive pollutants.....

Finally, one who thought needles tickled stepped forward, "Son, your badly hurt. You need to take it easy for a bit."

Their hats are absurd...Are they trying to look like clueless aristocrats on safari? Rook thought as they disembarked from the transports. The ships had been prime specimens of how to care for and maintain aeronautica according to the strictures of the Omnissiah and for that he had been glad. Leaving with the others, he watched as they began to mingle with the new troops and stood alone waiting for the order to move to billets, or at least what looked like the order to move. As he waited, the Chirurgeon Adept had made motions to follow her, and he was more than willing to run diagnostics and decontaminate.

When it was his turn, he sat in silence and let her run the tests for fitness. After a moment he blurted in machine cant My audio-receptors have taken damage from ultra high frequency sound waves. Is there anything you may be able to do to increase the efficiency of their repair? Given that he couldn't hear his own voice, he screeched out the words far louder than was necessary and at a pitch that made others in the medical bay wince.

Wiremu, had circulated among the various Bastards, shaking hands and welcoming them into the city sized ship.

He stopped in front of the ratlings.

"Kia ora boys! Welcome to the The Hudson. Now dont you worry...once you are all settled in, some of the boys will make sure you fullas find some good places."

He gives a wink before moving past and exchanging more greetings with others.

Mae shook her head at the sorry state of the crew. They had been through many scrapes and showed a lot of bravery before insurmountable odds, and their wounds certainly attested to this.

"Make them as comfortable as possible" she murmurs to her aid. And sets about to distributing pain relievers. Most of their debilitating wounds were already tended to. What remained, no amount of tech (as much as she hated to admit it) would speed, only time would see to their healing, if that.

As the Tech-priest shouted his cant at her, she smiled a very eerie and out of place smile and raised her thumbs in a positive gesture, "WE ARE MAKING YOU COMFORTABLE. LET ME KNOW IF THERE IS ANYTHING MORE I CAN DO TO EASE YOUR PAIN. UNLESS IT IS SEXUAL IN NATURE, I WILL DO ALL I CAN TO HELP." She shouted, blissfully unaware that all BUT her intended target could hear her.

At his uncomprehending gaze, she razed her thumbs again and pulled out a pain hypo and stabbed him with it. "THE PAIN SHOULD EASE" She shouted as he stumbled under the force of the drugs.

Stubbs liked 'em. Big, broad, killing machines by the looks o' it. Damn fine specimens of military might. They be all friendly as hell too. It was nice ta be feelin' treated nice like. Not like back on that fethin' planet. 

I will be gettin' that fether....that fether that shot Barb. I damn well be endin' him before I die...


The big man lightens from his foul thoughts and turns to go meet the Chindits. 

He bro hugs a few of them and greets them in kind before going over to tha big lady to get his thangs looked at. 

"Ahem, MY EARS DON'T BE WORKIN'! ANYTHANG YOU BE DOIN' BOUT THAT BE MIGHTY HELPFUL LIKE."

Mae turned her attention to the new patient, once again with hearing damage.

"YOUR HEARING LOSS IS BEYOND MY SKILL TO REPAIR, AT THIS TIME." Mae shouted, and at his look of incomprehension, her bone saw began buzzing, a manifestation of her irritation.

lumbering over to her supplies, she rummaged around and finally pulled out her scrimshaw tools. Seconds later a sign was crafted in legible but not fine quality that simply read "YOU ARE DAMAGED" she lumbered back to her patients and pointed at the sign.

He shakes his head, completely misunderstanding the situation.

Was Newt staring him down from behind? He sword he could feel her eyes boring holes into the back of his head.

"N-n-no thanks." he stammers. "Ive got that need taken care of."

Behind him, Newt shakes her head into her palm. She had heard what was said better than he, the chirurgeon's awkwardness already made the situation awkward and Bazin's response was sure to make him the butt of a few jokes for a while.

Eventually Mae gets her point across to the temporarily deaf Bastards via a very simple technique. Sometimes, the oldest methods were the best. Eventually the last of the new additions get their thorough physicals and billet assignments and come together in loose squad formations. With the exception of one to lead you, the adepts get up and move off about their business. Servitors come in and begin taking away the refreshment counters and most of the gathered Chindits begin to disperse as well. Apparently, the show was over.

1st Lieutenant Bishop gave the word and under the direction of one remaining adept, two tracked servitors, and three floating servo-skulls, 7th Company moved out.

The hangar bay exited into a large artery the adept referred to as "highway 1." He explained to those who could hear that The Hudson had multiple "highways" which all connected to a "nerve-center" of lifts. These passageways and elevators could get you anywhere you wanted to go throughout the small city-sized ship, provided you had the clearance to get there. There was a separate nerve center that provided transportation to the important portions of the ship such as the bridge, command center, and navigator's tower, but those were obviously clearance only.

Highway 1 was well-lit and wide enough to comfortable fit two chimera armored fighting vehicles side by side with room to spare. As such, it was plenty wide for the new armsmen to move down with plenty of oncoming traffic as well. Scribes, adepts, and naval ratings moved with purpose. There were smatterings of tech priest enginseers here and there, often in clusters around technical paneling working on some issue or another. They were easy enough to spot as they were often trailed by a servo-skull billowing clouds of thick, sacred incense. You pass dozens of heavy bulkheads, each signalling your entry into a new sub-section of the highway. Side corridors were numerous, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that straying from the path would leave them anything other than hopelessly lost. Luckily, the servitors, adept, and servo-skulls were there to ensure that didn't happen.

The noises of hustle and bustle may have surprised those without previous extended experience aboard a starship. The Bastards of 7th Company only had a limited transfer in a cargo hold and then a disastrous planetfall in a drop ship. More likely than not, this was a new experience for most of 7th.

Eventually the Bastards made their way into what appeared to be a rather lavish courtyard. The plasteel flooring gave way to rockrete worn smooth by generations of feet and vehicles passing over it. If the highway provided ample room, this courtyard area dwarfed it. The artificial light was brighter here. There was even a fountain and actual trees. The adept commented that the trees were a relatively new feature proposed by the previous captain of The Hudson in an attempt to ease the pressure on the air-recyclers and create micro-climates. Slowly but surely it had worked, but the practice hadn't caught on in the majority of the ship as caring for the greenery was a lot of work in and of itself. With the explanations finished, the adept welcomed you to the first nerve cluster.

Along one wall ran multiple lifts which seemed to never stop moving.

"You have all been designated the same hab unit. Take any of these lifts to the upper-hab level. I trust you can find your individual living arrangements from there." The adept then made to leave. "Oh, and another thing, try not to go wandering around. This ship is large and anyone getting lost or killed could lead to delays." Without waiting for further questions or comments, the adept left. The servitors and servo-skulls, however, stayed.

Assuming you take the lift, you find the inside spacious. Either no one was heading to the upper hab decks or the thought of occupying an elevator with heavily armed outsiders didn't appeal to them. Besides, there were plenty to choose from. The ride is quick. It is a testament to the standards kept by the tech-priest enginseers and the crew of The Hudson. The doors calmly *bing* and open, pouring you out into a common area of sorts. A short walk, guided by the servitors takes you through a lounge area, complete with multiple couches, reading areas, a large pict viewer, and even a fully stocked kitchen. To most, it must have looked like something out of a privileged life they could never have dreamed of. There were three hallways; one of them led to segregated showers and toilets, the other into a storage area, and the third was rooms.

It appeared Captain Jakkoby wanted the Bastards to stay together, as they had been previously. As you peer at your billet assignments, you notice that most teams had been kept together in four-person living arrangements. Squads were arranged next door to one another according to these groups of four. In this way, units remained tight knit.

The rooms were just as surprising as the lounge area. Four to a room had seemed like a tight fit to some, even those used to the horrible accommodations of the past. But that didn't seem to be an issue here. Each room had floor space for four comfortable beds, digitally coded foot lockers in addition to closet space for all, two two personal desks, and room left over to move around in.

Perhaps most notably, no one had asked you to check in or stow your weapons. You were, perhaps for the first time in your lives, trusted with your own gear.

Once again, you see some Chindits here and there mulling around. Apparently the armsmen occupied the same living hab section. The new area is yours to explore.

+++
Area Unlocked: Upper Living Habs

Stubbs be damn blown away. He jus' kept lookin' up and about, with his big jaw hangin' open at all da sights dat just kept poppin' up all ova da place. It was a damn big change frum all da shitholes he been stayin' in for his whole damn life. 

Life be lookin' up. 

"SHIT YA'LL BE SEEIN' ALL DIS? AIN'T IT DAMN SKIPPY?" 

The big man's boomin' laugh sounds out, probably louder than normal due to his loss of hearin'. 

+++++

Once Stubbs be findin' his room, he sets his gear down and jumps up on the big bed, laughin' like a kid at the whole mess of it. 

Shit man, we be either real lucky...or the Empruh finally dun gone and got us some...

Bazin and Newt look around, wide eyed and slack jawed. They had never seen such immaculate living in all their years combined.

"I dont think even the richest of Armageddon's hives was this well maintained." Newt comments.

"How would you know? Its not like any of us urchin's were able to get that close." Bazin replied.

After milling around for a bit, Bazin moves towards the largest concentration of Bastards, "So I guess we wait for a call now?"

Karsith moved with the rest, staring around the city-boat with awe. He'd never been anywhere other than the cargo hold of a ship, and even the he was locked up in a cage. There was nothing like this back home. Though he kept his eviscerator close, he was surprised to find that no one ever asked him to check it in. By the time the company made it to their rooms, Karsith was almost relaxed.

He laughed as he rested on the bed, but after a few minutes, he pulled four of the braids from his hair and cut them off, he tossed them into the trash with a look of sadness. "If people keep leaving this quickly, I'm gonna go bald."

The two Ratlings followed along with the rest of the team as they made their way to their hab area. Like the rest of the Bastards they had some little experience with space travel from their time in the Guard, but this was unlike anything they had ever seen before. The size for one. On prior trips they had simply been aware that they were on a massive vessel, but for the first time they were seeing the proof as such with their own eyes. There was an unspoken agreement between the two though that neither would acknowledge this. Slit viewed cynicism was much more comfortable than wide eyed wonder.

This attempt though was sorely tested when they actually reached the living area. As they moved from the living room to the kitchen and finally to the bedrooms, Uallachan's mask was gone and his face was longer than a stallion's morning glory.
"Its.... its just so clean. Are we actually expected to live here?"
Ruaidhri had staggered towards one of the beds and then fallen face forward into the white sheets. Seconds later he reemerged leaving behind an image of himself in the formally clean sheets.
"There's.... mattress there. Like I can't feel the wood at all."
"Its soulless- that's what it is. Looking at this, you'd have no idea who'd been in this bed before"
Uallachan collapsed to the ground, and stared morosely around the room. After a couple of seconds, his companion joined him.
"It's pretty different mo chara. But you know, I've never seen anything pure you haven't managed to defile eventually."
Uallachan seemed to brighten at this thought.
"Its a challenge to be sure. What is life though without lessons to lead?
'For thou may be dressed in white, christened with the holy oils and led to follow the innocent goat. Cast aside the perverted one and climb into the pig sty. For it is only as the lowest and smelliest of my followers that you can spread the good word and bring new life to the unspoilt valley' St Necro to the studious librarians of York"
"I wonder who our two bunkmates will be?"

For the next few minutes both attempted to make themselves feel more at home by emitting as many noxious fumes, both of the pipe and bottom burp variety before moving to the largest collection of Bastards.
"What's the form like associated sir's and non sirs? Uallachan and I had a glance in the fridge there. Currently there's loads of food. I'm thinking of cooking up a big feast to celebrate our new home. Who's in?"

As they walked towards their lodgings, Rook recorded everything he saw and logged it away in his memorance implant. Later, he would use it to piece together where the machine shops were, and the underground....He would need to move quickly to begin setting up a network within this ship and start bartering and working. There is much opportunity here for furthering my hoard, he thought to himself

Despite the ringing in his ears, he could swear he heard the gasps from the other bastards as they were shown into their new quarters. He was happy enough with the lodgings, but what he was really interested in was the storage space. The gene-locked footlockers were the most exciting parts. Finally, some security for my collection. He found the room Stubbs had chosen and began putting away the gear he would not be needing. Looking over at the big gunner he squawked, Do you need anything while I'm out? 

Mae returned to her living quarters after her patients had all been discharged. Her room was simple, close to the med bay for emergencies, and had a comfortable large bed and workbench.

Approaching the workbench, She unpacked some of her equipment and set to work on an ornate design on a simple scrap piece of metal. Her mind blank, as if in a meditative state. The hum of the drill carving into the metal soothing her mind and the headaches that plagued her constantly.

Her room was filled with items she had picked up, essentially junk, but to her they all had value. Some were small pieces of tech; a gear or screw that had been tossed aside. She collected these and filled the drawers of her dresser with them. Items found on missions of no value served as keepsakes, a cup, a brass ring, a scarf -- looking at them would envoke the memory of the success of the day, and she would bask in the thoughts and memories these items evoked.

Other items, were not so straightforward or easy for her to understand her desire to keep them. A fully articulated skeleton sat in the corner, not unusual for a medic, but on close examination, you would see it was missing a single toe. A primitive wooden bow, broken beyond repair, but kept in a place of honor, displayed beside her bed. There were other similar, strange items that evoked a strong sense of nostalgia, though, looking at them evoked no memories or thoughts. But she persisted.

She would keep searching. Keep collecting.  And keep healing others.

Perhaps one day she would find something that would be the key to unlocking her memories. Perhaps one day she could heal her own fractured mind.

Settling in was easy enough. Squad leaders didn't have much work to do as most of the Bastards were in stupefied shock or ecstatic at the prospect of a living environment that, for once, finally resembled living. Most started squaring away their belongings and "calling" beds. Since everyone had time to clean up on Hervara and had been provided food no less than three times by Captain Jakk, the kitchen area and showers were surprisingly empty.

It was odd how the creature comforts already began to change some of the Imperiums most hardened killers. Some squads segregated immediately, forming women's and men's cliques eager to simply sit on a couch, or try out the showers. Others stayed together quietly, too in shock to really believe that this wouldn't be taken away from them all too soon. For a few it was a little too much. At least two Bastards from 3rd squad sat together in their bunks, quietly crying. Perhaps they had lost a dear comrade. Perhaps this was how they processed.

There were relatively few Chindits here. When asked, they responded that most were on duty somewhere in the ship. Apparently it did no good for them to sit around and get restless. You were all told to prepare for similar duty assignments sooner rather than later.

After about thirty minutes the vox systems sqwaked to life.

+++Attention, Attention - All armsmen report to Nerve Center 5 in 20 minutes. All armsmen report to Nerve Center 5 in 20 minutes. The Emperor Protects.+++

Wiremu had left the bastards to settle in and gone to check on the Chindits vehicles.

He knew they were in good hands with the Tech priests, but he also had always been taught never to operate anything he hadnt checked over first. This of course annoyed the Tech Priests to no end as he often visited.

Walking in after leaving the hanger he shouted out.

"Leo cuz! How is my girl? Treating her right??"

An audible mechanical sigh is heard from among the various vehicles.

"It is Tech Priest Leondrus, Private Raukawa. And yes. The machine spirit is of course well. As you are well aware it has been under my care for 93 da..."

Wiremu slaps the Tech priest on his back as he walks past, ignoring what he was saying.
"Chur Leo! Knew i could trust you! Now let me see my girl!"

Tech Priest Leondrus paused in what he was saying, looking like he was about to say something else, but gave up and just walked away.

Wiremu was rubbing his hands together, about to open "her" up when the vox system sounded.

"Shit. Ah well my dear Aroha. Next time! Catch you later Leo! Peace!"

Bazin and Newt had gone to check out the mess hall, if it could even be called that.

The room was clean and fancy - no cockroaches anywhere. The food was even more bizarre, it was eggs and "hamm" with some kind of rich sauce poured on it. They could hardly believe their palettes when the food touched the taste buds.

From there, they went and claimed bunks. Two beds, next to each other, though it was pretty clear they didnt expect to use one. They had just finished tossing thier gear on one bed when the call to muster was given.

"The new masters beckon." she said.

After not receiving a reply from Stubbs, Rook and Jeevs exited the room to go in search of contacts, resources, and workbenches. Out in the main gathering room, he noticed people starting to gather and leave in small groups, heading somewhere with purpose. Where are is everyone going? he asked a nameless Bastard.

Stubbs was a bit surprised like to see Rook take up resuhdence in his neck o' tha woods, but at the same time he was glad to have tha boy near him. They'd had their diffurances, but shiiiiit, dat be in da past. The big man smiles at the techy and yells out. 

"Good ta have ya, Rooky, Jeevs. Nice lil setup we got goin' on hur, huh?"


As the tech priest leaves, Stubbs runs ta catch up wit him, not havin' heard what he be sayin', but thinkin' he best tag along. 

"WHERE WE GOIN'?"

Artur spent his time falling into the same routines he alwayd did, he did his best to get the lay of the land, for want of a better word for the inside of the ship. He didn't venture out of sight of the area were rhe Bastards were billited but he did his best to remember areas of access around the peremiter - for possible reccy when they had settled in. Some times Nat would join him, the young woman doing her best to emulate the older scout and pick up his habits. When she wasn't with him she foubd herself playing cards - and proving to be pretty good at it.

The two scouts were heading back from one of their jaunts when the annoucement was heard

"For Thrones sake I was planning on releving the 9th of their booze supplies this evening."

"Shame lass bu' maybe we can gi' a bi' o action eh? Ne'er 'haught I'd be missin' almos' gettin' blown t' de Emperors side."

Nat rolled her eyes and fell in beside the Corpral as they made a line towards the nerve centre kepping eyes peeled for some of the 7th.

None of the 7th had seemed interested in the offer of a meal but a passing group of the 4th immediately stopped and offered their bellies for the filling. The two Rattlings had exchanged a quick glance and then followed the group off to their quarters. While Ruaidhri had busied himself in the kitchen, Uallachan prepared the dining area. After stripping a bed of its sheets and dressing the table, he turned to Sargent Obadiah, a particularly corpulent and ugly bastard with protruding eyes and a circular welt around his neck, and bowed with his arms low.
"Would sirs and madams, like to take their seats?"

Clearly bemused with the treatment they were getting, 6 members of the 4th took their places. Perhaps they have never had a Rattling in their Company before. Or perhaps, still overawed by their new surroundings- they weren't taking the care that they should.
Obadiah, sitting at the head, thumped his fist into the table.
"Less of the airy fairy and get the food out here. We've not got all day"
"Of course sir, of course, food will be coming right up. Right this minute"

A minute later he returned with Ruaidhri staggering under a large steaming pie. Its crust was brown and clearly close to bursting with its bulging ingredients.
As the Sargent brought his knife forward the red haired rattling held up a warning hand.
"Not yet sir. You must allow the pie to settle for one minute before opening it."
"It is also rather hot sirs and madam. Can we chill your drinks?"

The eyes of the 4th were concentrated wholly on the bulging brown wonder in front of them and without a murmur a number of bottles were passed into the attentive Rattling hands. The two turned towards the kitchen but after a few paces started to move quickly towards the door. Seconds later they were sprinting up the hall towards their own area, multiple bottles clutched precariously under their arms. Behind them came the sound of whump and then mingled screams rang out.

"Something wrong with your cooking there Ruaidhri?"
"I definitely told them they had to wait ten minutes for it to settle right?"
"Oh most definitely. And I warned them that it might be hot. So really they only have themselves to blame"  
"And we have the chance to get uproariously drunk"

The two just had time to open their first bottles, when the announcement came.
"Feck that for a two arsed cow."
"Hide them and get back to it later. We are getting bleutered tonight regardless"

A couple of minutes later the two Rattlings were making their way up toward the nerve centre, with only a single bottle each. Catching sight of a familiar face Uallachan called out ahead.
"Fancy a sup Corporal?"

Artur grins at the sound of the approaching Ratlings

T'wud be rude not t' now wouldn' it." the Scout slows his gait to match the sharpshooters pace taking a swig from the offered bottle

"Sp wah ye 'hink Uallachan, has our new lord 'n master realised wah a terrible mistake bringin' t' bunch o' reprobates on board 'is pretty ship an plans t' dump us soon as 'e can?"

***before leaving his quarters***

Stubbs yelled something in reply to his query, but Rook's ability to lip read the gunner's ethnic accent left him at odds. I said, would you like anything while I'm out? I'm going to look for a workshop and a trader about a canid.


He left the quarters and found Stubbs following along behind Jeevs. When they made it to the central gathering room, he asked another Bastard what was going on. It seems that we are to meet in the central nerve center, whatever the fug that means! Rook got the gist of what was being shouted at him and began to follow the other bodies. He elbowed Stubbs and gestured him to follow. And awaaaayyyy we go! he grinned and clicked his fingers at Jeevs

There's a rustle and a hollering from behind. Several members of 4th squad burst from around a corridor and look around angrily before spotting the ratlings.

"You little cunts, stop!" The sergeant with the boil looked none too happy. He didn't look happy in the best of circumstances, but now he was positively fuming. Quite literally, in fact. Wisps of smoke played upwards from the splashes of sauce on his face. He would clearly need minor medical attention, as would the others in the squad who had been around the culinary land mine when the sergeant cut into it.

Luckily, he had done away with the knife. They made it about halfway to the ratlings before spying Artur and Nat. Both of their hands instinctively rested on the hilt of their knives too nonchalantly to be an coincidence. Muscle memory was a hell of the thing.

Sergeant Boil-Face and his retinue halted in their tracks. With their steam gone, they resigned themselves to giving up the chase.

"This isn't over, you knee-high sons of bitches."

+++Congratulations! Ruaidhri and Uallachan have started a rivalry with 4th Squad!+++

Bazin and Newt arrived to find a tense standoff between the 7th and the 4th.

They silently watch the proceedings, when the tensions ease down Baszin asks,
"What did you guys do now? They didnt look very happy."

Karsith slipped out of bed at the call to gather, with minor grumbling. He grabbed his sword off the footlocker and made his way down the hallway, the large eviscerator resting on his shoulder. As he made his way down unfamiliar corridors, he noticed the congelation of 4th squad yelling at the ratlings, and he yelled back. "Show some damn respect, those knee-high sons a bitches aimed the gun that saved your useless ass and you're grumbling you got some sauce on your face. Walk, oversized grox shit." He moved toward them quickly as he spoke, and as he finished he shoved the squad leader out of his way with his free, metal hand and brandished his eviscerator with a shrug. He held his weapon ready and free hand outstretched for a moment, making it clear he was ready to fight them now if need be.

Between Karsith, Artur, and Nat, 4th squad retreats without a fight.

+++++++

Upon departing the elevators, your nerve center is abuzz with armsmen and women setting out for Nerve Center 5. From what you remember, N.C. 5 was the main hub of activity for, and only way to access, the bridge and other essential areas of the frigate. There was roughly one Chindit for every five Bastards, a testament to those on duty who wouldn't be able to make it. As you walk, you begin to notice that in addition to the Chindits there are naval armsmen as well. These men and women didn't have a regiment of their own as they weren't officially Astra Militarum; instead, they were permanent fixtures of The Hudson.

Without previous knowledge - or simply inquiring - the naval armsmen were something of an anomaly. What was their purpose if the Bastards and the Chindits served a similar role? Those nuances would need to be found out.

If your Nerve Center was abuzz, N.C. 5 was practically blaring with activity. The area was bigger than what you had just come from by three fold. It was reminiscent of a well-maintained town with large areas dedicated to maintaining precious ancient technologies that kept the Nerve Center alive. A huge bank of lifts dominated one corner with a similarly large courtyard. There was living plant life here as well, giving the entire area a fresh scent and, more importantly, fresh air. Most of the people around you were making their way to what appeared to be an amphitheater of sorts. There were hundreds of people filling seats as you made your way inside.

Wiremu made his way N.C. 5, laughing and joking with those he knew, until the joined all the others waiting.

One of the new boys, a Bastard, nudged him and asked a question.

"Excuse me, do you know who those armsmen are?", he asked, pointing at one of the naval armsmen.

"hmmm? Ohhh those fullas. Hmmm i have seen them around heaps, but i dunno bro. Maybe the non expendable ones, eh bro. Ha!"

He gives a wink and pats him on the back.

**EDITED**

Stubbs looked around hisself in amazement at jus how goddamn big eerythang was 'round him. Shit man, he be lost than a mo', if he dun be followin' round Rooky boy. Dey get close to tha nerve centa and shit, eerybody is buzzin'. Busy like. Seemin' like they all got sumthang important to do. Not like the disorganization down planetside befuh. Nah, this was legit. Neat. And it damn near scared him a bit. 

The big man takes his seat next to Rooky and shakes his head. 

"FETH ME, I AINT NEVER BEEN SUMWHERE LIKE DIS BEFUH."

Bazin and Newt stay out of the way as best as able, keeping close to the squad.

None of the chindits appeared overly hostile towards them, but they were penal legion after all. The only difference now was the master.

They sit down next to Karsith, Bazin decides to ask, "You noticed that 7th's ranks are really thin since dust off? I aint seen Yorke or the bitch."

Ruaidhri and Uallachan had turned to see the familiar faces coming toward them. The red haired rattling had a faux innocent look on his face whereas his partner's had split into a large grin.
As the squad backed off, Uallachan took an especially large swig of his bottle and then offered it towards Bazin and Newt.
"Those arses seemed to think we were some kind of servants or something and took us off to cook something for them. Well I cooked them something delightful..."
"But it might have gone off in their faces"
"Didn't wait for it to properly set"
"Still good to eat though. We did them a service"
"And for that service we took payment in drink."
"The rest is stored back at base so we can have a proper celebration to our new employment"
"Because cubs and cutties.... we really deserve a chance for some proper fun before we get back into the breach"

+++++++++++

The two followed the rest of the squad into the amphitheater and took seats on the other side of Karsith.
"Almost time for curtains to go up I'd guess. Finally find out why we were bought from the guard"
"My bet is that its going to be bloody difficult whatever it is"
"I don't see any Commissars yet. Lots of opportunity to get the necessities of life"
"Ah you wait. We are getting the softly softly approach. Lots of love and tenderness. The next act will be the bruises and turning cheap tricks."
"You really are getting to be a lightweight Ru- already getting mauldin"

Ruaidhri ignored him and turned to Bazin.
"That's a point. I havn't seen them since the planet. Think Yorke and Gonorrhea went off on a bunk? I can't see many wanting to stay with the Guard."

Rook walked with Stubbs and looked at the out-of-place ratings as they entered another nerve center. Unable to place them, and seeing the inside of a new and larger nerve center, they were quickly forgotten as he saw what could only be workshops....he would be back as soon as possible with some things to trade. he could feel Stubbs' awe at the place, and were he not somewhat familiar with the scale of the Omnissiah's works, he would be too. Everyone was filtering into an stadia of some kind and as they approached the entrance Rook snapped and yelled, Jeevs you will remain here! You are not needed at this time! He and Stubbs then disappeared inside and founds seats together. They were an odd pairing, even ignoring the fact that they had almost come to blows upon Hervara not long ago. They had made a deal in the end, and he had been able to add RICTUS to his collection where it truly belonged. Everything has a price...he thought as his grip tightened on the haft of the axe

Mae weaved her way through the halls to the Nerve Center. The new recruits were obvious, from their rambunxious tittle-tattle to their wide-eyed stares, the Bastards were set apart from the normal fold.

She nodded cordially to those who greeted her, comrades on past missions that moved on before they could become too friendly. She had often wondered if this was by design, to keep her from forming new attachments and making connections.

She remained apart and silent as the others filed in. Stoecly watching the proceedings, a pen, and pad hidden in her priest robes in case she had to communicate with the damaged ones again.

While Ruaidhri was turned talking to the other Bastards, Uallachan had twisted around in this seat and lolled his head over the back taking care to try and eyeball everyone who walked past, his face twisted again into what he was confident was a look of innocence. To those that passed however, it appeared that he had something particularly large dying inside him and might make the area uninhabitable. Naturally he was given a wide berth. It didn't take him long to spot the large mechanical woman again, and his face twisted again as he dropped from the seat and made his way over to her. His way was particularly slow as each step was accompanied by a particularly energetic gyration of his hips.

When he had finally completed his journey he planted his hands on his hips and stared up at the massive height difference between them and gave her a wink.
"Now I know what you are thinking. Why has this handsome, unfeasibly fertile, and snake hipped ruffian come to speak to me, the beautiful enhanced medic? Does he have an infection new to science that I can study? Does he have information that will change the very way I view the world? Is he Kringly Kris the living saint of pleasurable gifts when you are cold?"

He stood up on the tips of his toes and moved one hand to block the side of his mouth and said in an exaggerated whisper
"Two of those are true"

Mae blinked down at the tiny man - ratling - her. On tiptoe, he barely made it past her hips. It was the first time, in memory, she had ever spoken to one so tiny.

His words on 'having information that would change her worldview' triggered something deep in her, but she quickly squashed it down. She would play this safe, and if the tiny man had answers to her past, she would hear them eventually.

Mae's form crumpled and folded until she was squatting down to the tiny man's statue. "Is one truth the infection?" Her Optical Mechadendrite slithered loose from around her neck and curiously peered at the ratling.

Uallachan displayed a little surprise when Mae squatted down in front of him. While he had decided to come over here purely out of boredom, the giant mechanical woman seemed to be taking him much more seriously than he expected. If nothing else, the Rattling was adaptable and he quickly moved to see where exactly this interaction might go.
He clapped his hands and beamed at her.
"Aye my cling clangyness, that's perfect. One out of two so far."

He gave her another wink and then moved a hand down to lightly brush his privates and made a series of exaggerated gasps and groans.
"There's more life down there than an entire jungle in Catachan. And as with many dangerous expeditions, some of those who enter there never make it back again, but those that do come back with more information than with a year of other patients."

He then reached over and gave the top of the Mechadendrite a scratch.
"And who indeed is this fella? Feeling a bit left out and want to join the fun?"

Mae looked at the deceased one with a new focus, every minute movement could now be a symptom. She took note of the Genital Itchy and took note of his comment that others seemed to have become infected and turned terminal. Perhaps simple lice or a fungal infection, though those are sure to be cured by the standard inoculations they received upon boarding the ship. Perhaps he was just experiencing a lingering side effect?

His touch of her optical mechadendtrite brought its movement to her attention and she watched as it dropped like a stone to hang loosely around her neck like a rope. She'd have to decontaminate that later.

"We can make an appointment at your earliest convenience," Mae said shyly. This could be a most envigerating medical mystery.

Bazin and Newt were both watching the talking between Mae and Uallachan.

After a few moments, Newt whispers to Bazin "Is the medic flirting with the ratling?

Bazin shrugs, no one had yet responded to Uallachan's talk so.....pleasantly. At least not that they ever recall.
"To each his own I guess."

"I get sick just when I eat the food. It'd be interesting to see what she catches out of that."

"The food's not bad....Sometimes." he responds, recalling a few good meals here and there.

She goes silent, mulling her experiences over, "To each his own I guess."

+++Mae and the Ratlings feel free to continue this conversation on as long as you like (+50 xp to you both for keeping the IC alive and spurning on inter-PC dialogues. Well done)+++

A lift from above floated down into the central focal point of the amphitheater that quieted everyone down to a hush. It was made of polished steel with a railing around its perimeter. Figures stood atop it. They were kept in shadow or at too poor of an angle to see as the platform descended. It slowed to a stop at a comfortable height so that all in attendance could look on the assembled group.

Center stage, standing tall and dressed every part his rank entailed was Captain Jakkoby Aldon. His salt and pepper facial hair was manicured down into a point on his chin. His eyes were bright and he wore a smile that radiated confidence. Situated around him was a handful of characters, the majority of you had never seen until now.

Armsmaster 1st Class Koale stood rigidly in his armor. As he came into view, the Naval Armsmen stood to attention as one. He barked out an "As you were," and they moved back to take their seats. The Chindits made no such move, though they weren't outwardly disrespectful.

The rest were perhaps much more of a shock to behold.

There was a - woman? - who stood beside Koale. Most of her face had been replaced with cybernetics, but the figure of her body beneath the red-robes of her station held a trace of femininity. She stood well over six feet tall though both legs, arms, and one would guess a portion of her torso were now firmly handed over to the machine god. Whatever other secrets she had stayed hidden beneath the robes. The few adepts of the mechanicus who happened to be in the room rose when she came into view. Silent,
alien, binary chatter burst forth from their lips or oral replacements. The giant priestess responded in kind and they sat as one.

Next to her was an absolutely stunning beauty of about five feet eleven inches. She had cool green hair that looked like velvet and flowed down her shoulders like a waterfall. She wore smart attire that fit her form in a professional way that hinted at a tempest of controlled sexuality. She at once looked like she could command a meeting over the fates of worlds or be right at home seducing Lord Governors with a look. She had a data slate strapped to one thigh and a pict-recording cherubim floated just behind her.

To Lord-Captain's left was... was a xenos. Dressed in a tight naval jacket nearly bursting over tight muscle, with tribal leathers that only partially covered his lower half stood a Kroot that absolutely exuded authority. Two bandoleers of ammunition criss-crossed its chest. The leather bandoleers matched that of the two pistol-holsters on its hips. Its chin was held high and proud, brutal eyes looking down over a sharp beak. A head of bluish quills shook and rattled every now and again, all adding to the very alien nature of its presence. Aside from the quills, it stood like a statue.

Nearby stood two men who looked oddly similar. Both had long hair pulled back into tight pony-tails and handsome faces. Dashing lads, one might say. In fact, they could very well be related - brothers, perhaps?
Both wore crisp uniforms but they were clearly not regulation Imperal Navy nor Astra Militarum. They had been adorned with various trinkets and jewelry that sparkled in the light.

Captain Jakkoby broke the silence. "Armsmen and women, thank you for assembling quickly on such short notice. It appears that Armsmaster Koale is keeping you a very well-disciplined fighting force. But hopefully he's not too hard on you, eh?" That caused the naval armsman to start laughing and talking amongst themselves. Koale let the briefest smile cross his face then was back to business as usual. "As those of you with eyes can see, a new fighting unit has joined our fighting ranks. The Indira Chindits, The Hudson's very own naval armsmen, and now the Emperor's Bastards;
each of you has a very unique skill set and as such you will have a unique roll to play in our business here. I run my ship on one very basic philosophy that may not be the most eloquent, but it has seen this ship through the hardships of the Void so far."

He fixed his eyes on the Bastards for the most part. The others had no doubt learned previously what he was about to say.

"Loyalty to The Hudson is loyalty to the Captain is loyalty to the Emperor. If you do your job to the absolute best of your abilities, with the ultimate goal of glory for this ship in your mind,
then I can guarantee you we will all benefit greatly. If you don't do your job, then I can find someone who will. It is that simple. And I can promise you this: from the lowest rating in the subdecks to my 1st Officer Koale here, there isn't a more efficient crew with a better quality of life in the sector. Hell, if you can find it, I will send you over with a letter of recommendation myself. Beside me are some of my command staff. Regardless of what you may feel about... The Mechanicus," clearly meaning the Kroot, "We see rank first on this ship. Make no mistake, these men and women here are your commanding officers. The others are, well they are making sure this ship doesn't randomly explode or fly into a neutron star, so they cannot be with us at the moment. But in time you will get to know us all. Chindits and Bastards especially - as specialized forces aboard The Hudson you will regularly be joining us on a multitude of missions planetside. So, if you have any lingering issues with The Mechanicus,
I suggest you figure out a positive way with which to deal with them."

He took a step back and gestured to Koale.

"Armsmaster 1st Class Koale will handle the boring stuff now. All yours, Koale. I warmed them up for you."

This drew a few more laughs and a large grin from Jakkoby himself. Koale stepped forward, hands behind his back. "Thank you for the introduction, Lord-Captain. For those of you who do not know,
I am Armsman First Class and First Officer Kailann Koale. Since you are not Navy, what that means is that I have the bridge when the Captain is away. As such, it is a rare occasion when the Captain and I are planetside at the same time. Now, we are getting clear of Hervara and making our way out of the Spinward Front on our way to the Drusus Marches. There we will dock at Port Wander for resupply. It should take us no longer than ten days until we reach our destination. All commanders will be receiving duty-assignments within the hour. Chow-hall schedules will be included. That is all."

Captain Jakkoby thanked Koale and stepped forward once again. "That should do it. Again, welcome aboard The Hudson. Let's go make some history."

Bazin listened, though he hardly understood any of what they were saying.
Spineward Front? Port Wander? Drusus Marches? Those were all nautical and relative terms, well above lowly PDF rank-and-file from Armageddon.

What caught his attention the most was the xenos. He stared it down with a well ingrained distrust.
Its a good thing Toreth had dies on the fungus-world, else he would have died here trying to wipe clean this xenos taint from the Hudson. Bazin absentmindedly fiddles with the aquilia charm.

Suddenly, the speech seemed to be over and the applause stirred him from his thoughts.