Brother-Captain Gaius wrote:Zakary looks away from the gear being sorted with quickly-concealed disappointment. "Hm? Oh, yes, that errand we ought to run. Yes, I suppose we should be off. You wouldn't happen to be any good at navigating hives, would you? I fear I'm rather more used to ruins and razorwire."
"Nah, the only time I've been in a hive before was to help shoot rioters."
Looking at the items spread on the bed, Verum smiled at the tech priest, and asked, "You wouldn't mind if I grabbed one of each would you? For safe keeping only you understand." With that he picked up a comm bead, a lamp pack, a set of filtration plugs, read the Captain's note, scoffing at the colorful language, and stashed a set of magnoculars inside his coat.
"Hmm now what have we here?" he said, looking at the directions to the lockers, pocketing the key.
Now that's interesting, something so secret he doesn't even want it on base. I think that should be the first priority.
"Bent, Liza, Tech priest... you up for a little side trip?"
"Naturally. I only hope these lockers are large enough to allow us to secure our excess equipment. I dislike the idea of leaving it here, in the open, where it can simply be taken."
Raj Ahten wrote:"Nah, the only time I've been in a hive before was to help shoot rioters."
"Well then, I suppose I'll ask about and see if I can muster up some directions then, hm, yes..."
After a round of awkward questioning of the locals, Zakary seems satisfied with his answers and sets off into the hive proper, presumably with Lazarus in tow.
Agitated asshole | (Ex)40K Nut | Metalhead The vision never dies; life's a never-ending wheel
1337 posts as of 16:34 GMT-7 June 2nd, 2003
"'He or she' is an agenderphobic microaggression, Sharon. You are a bigot." ― Randy Marsh
Lazarus followed Zakary damn close through the hive, staying as alert as on any combat patrol. He carried his lasgun up front with the stock against his shoulder (Can't remeber the name of this technique at all). With all the damn people around, if Lazarus had the lasgun slung, there would be no chance of getting to it in time if they were ambushed.
You can smell the shit through the nose plugs.
Lazarus had almost forgot how much he disliked hives. They were depressing places, where all the failures of the Imperium were on display.
Camillia helped herself to a set of the filtration plugs, a compact pict-recorder, a set of magnoculars, and a small lamp pack. She set her own comm-bead to the frequency indicated, and dropped the lamp-pack and filtration plugs into several small pockets on her jacket. The pict recorder slipped neatly into a slightly larger pocket, and the magnoculars were stored inside the jacket. Camillia also took one of the keys, examining it closely, and put it into a smaller, less visible pocket.
"I wonder what secrets these lockers might reveal," Camllia commented.
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Losonti Tokash wrote:"Naturally. I only hope these lockers are large enough to allow us to secure our excess equipment. I dislike the idea of leaving it here, in the open, where it can simply be taken."
"Very well, lets get moving then," Verum said with a slight shrug. He stepped outside into the mid-day sun, squinting and motioned to the others to follow. Walking across the drill field, Verum adjusted his scabbard and shotgun across his shoulders and began the long walk to his destination.
"We should consider our limited resources," said Varnius. "Our investigative perameters are vast and we have little access to money, weapons, or equipment. We have little to grease hands, buy drinks, or pay for favors. We need to acquire resources to push our investigation forward otherwise it will simply stall. And failure is what the Inquisition will not tolerate."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
The corner of a helmet tipped up and a bleary eye looked out at the hairless psyker. "Are you suggesting we should go find some work to bring in some currency? Or did you have something else in mind to fill our pockets?" The question seemed lazy but there was a suspicious undercurrent to it. The arbitrator's body language seemed to be suggesting that he was waiting for the wrong answer, but what exactly it was would be questionable.
Commander of the MFS Darwinian Selection Method (sexual)
"Our options for legitimate employment that will swiftly bring in the needed currency are limited," said Varnius. "We should consider taking resources from the unrighteous."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Block wrote:
"Bent, Liza, Tech priest... you up for a little side trip?"
"What did you have in mind?"
Mayabird is my girlfriend
Justice League:BotM:MM:SDnet City Watch:Cybertron's Finest "Well then, science is bullshit. "
-revprez, with yet another brilliant rebuttal.
Imperial Overlord wrote:"Our options for legitimate employment that will swiftly bring in the needed currency are limited," said Varnius. "We should consider taking resources from the unrighteous."
After a short pause Gelt let the helmet drop back over his eye and shrugged. "Not entirely a bad plan in general I suppose. The trick will be finding smuggler or gangs rich enough and without enough friends to make it worth our effort to knock them over. And we'll want some kind of reason to make this legitimate in case there are questions. This will take time to set up, but it does promise ample rewards if we can find the right target. I'll give it some thought and maybe gain some legitimate employment to help with the picking and the justification."
Commander of the MFS Darwinian Selection Method (sexual)
Camillia followed after Verum as he set off to find the lockers. She didn't want to get left behind, especially if there was something stored in the lockers for them.
As they walked along the hive streets, following the directions the Captain's note had given them, Verum chatted with the psyker, casually checking their trail to see if they were being followed every so often. "So Lady, I see you are from Cadia by your coloration and features, though to be honest you are smaller than I had heard they are said to be. Tell me, how did you come to be here?"
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Conversation. Camillia had never really engaged in it before, especially casually. Most of her talking over the past few years had been relaying astropathic messages, trying to describe her visions, or praying to the Emperor. In the few off-duty times, nobody really went out of their way to talk to her either, fearful or suspicious of psykers through their well-deserved reputation.
This man though, he didn't seem to be afraid. Perhaps he was naive, had never heard the tales of what psykers did, or casually dismissed them. Ignorance was indeed wise, but one had to be living in complete isolation to not hear of the terrible stories. And one would be stupid to ignore the threat Camillia posed, considering that it was only their very souls at stake.
There was another option. Perhaps he simply was not afraid of what she was, for some reason or another. Did he have prior interaction with psykers, especially regular interaction? Was he just not afraid of anything?
Camillia realized she had been silent for a while, not answering the question. She responded curtly, "I received an inquisitorial order, as I suspect you did also. I went where I was ordered. I ended up here."
"I rather gathered that Lady, although I wouldn't mention that name publicly again, never know who's watching and listening. As for myself, like I said I have some bounty hunting experience, which just burns my parents. Merchants, feh, boring. They sent me all over the sector to find trading partners, business opportunities," he said pointing to the patches adorning his jacket. "I found those opportunities, but not quite in the way they expected, I'm delighted to say. Worked with several of your skill set in my time, quite a useful bunch. I was looking for another job and got the call, so here I am. Thought it could be fun," Verum said with a grin. "Now there must be a bit more to your story. Throne knows each of us much have something interesting in our backgrounds to be here."
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Camillia once again lapsed into silence as she pondered what Verum had just said. Her life was hardly "interesting," unless one counted fending off daemons in her dreams and being looked at funny by everyone "interesting."
"I don't think I've had an interesting life. A dutiful one, yes, but not very interesting. I suspect that my selection had less to do with my past actions and more to do with my abilities. Nobody pays much attention to our past actions."
"Back trail's clear," Verum subvocalized into the commsystem. "I'd say our past actions determine our future course, but you may be right Lady. Perhaps we'll continue this conversation later?" He said, picking up his pace slightly, moving ever closer to their destination. With each passing Hab block the facades of the buildings grew slightly more worn with age and lack of care, and the streets grew wider, larger ground vehicles becoming the norm, a stark change from the foot traffic around the base. Reaching one of the main arteries of the hive, Verum looked around briefly and smiled, recognizing a sign.
"My friend's I believe we're there," pointing to a large transit terminal with several enormous transports idling outside. "Shall we investigate?"
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"There's a public channel I can give you access to, it's listen only on our end, so I'll be able to hear you, but you won't be able to pick up on our transmissions. Sorry, but it's protocol. As far as clothes, there's a few shops down in the market area. They're expensive up here, but if you go down a few levels you might be able to find something. I'm sorry that I can't really help you further, but I have duties I have to get back to," He opened the door, waiting for Octavius to leave before closing it.
Underhive (Zakary & Lazarus)
The adept and the guardsman had been walking for quite some time. The splendor of the upper hive had disappeared quite some time ago, only to be replaced by a dimly lit section of the hive in a lesser state of repair. Every so often a horrid smell wafts through the air, following a deep rumbling somewhere in the tunnels that seem to permeate this place. The people down here are scarcer than above, but still plentiful enough to indicate regular inhabitance.
Finally, the object of the journey within sight, the Administratum building, or at least part of it. Part of it that had apparently been sealed off from this level long ago. Scorch marks, bullet holes, and explosions mar the surface of this building. Several areas appear to have been forced open, and a few destroyed gun emplacements indicate that this might have been used as some sort of base not too long ago.
Do not meddle in the affairs of insomniacs, for they are cranky and can do things to you while you sleep. The Realm of Confusion
"Every time you talk about Teal'c, I keep imagining Thor's ass. Thank you very much for that, you fucking fucker." -Marcao SG-14: Because in some cases, "Recon" means "Blow up a fucking planet or die trying." SilCore Wiki! Come take a look!
Entering the building, Verum looked for a sign to direct him to the lockers, the ceiling of the terminal had several large monitors hanging down, displaying the transit schedule for the next several hours.
"Busy station, a lot of departures and arrivals by the look of it, now where... Ah," he said, catching sight of a sign on the wall that led him to a row of large lockers towards the back of the station. Looking at his key, he noticed it was marked with a number, 1422. He approached the locker, opened it and looked inside.
"Hmm, interesting. Apparently he thinks we don't blend in," Verum muttered to himself. Beckoning the others over and tossing a change of clothes at each of them he says, "Take them, get changed, and lets go see what we can see." Taking a coat that's slightly too large for him and a decent pair of pants Verum slips into the bathroom, changes clothes, and exits, placing his shotgun in the locker and concealing his other weapons on his body. Waiting for the others to emerge, studying the map as he waits.
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If the signs of destruction and battle faze him in the slightest or strike him as being anything out of the ordinary, Zakary does not show it. In fact, he rather bizarrely seems to be more at home than he was during the walk through the hive. The scholar does draw his stubber, however, keeping it at hand as begins to pick through the battle-zone in his best imitation of a soldiery stance.
He hardly notices the voice over his microbead, but after a moment's thought decides to duck into cover as well, scanning the blasted building curiously.
"Well... there can't be Orks down here, at least. I mean, right?"
Agitated asshole | (Ex)40K Nut | Metalhead The vision never dies; life's a never-ending wheel
1337 posts as of 16:34 GMT-7 June 2nd, 2003
"'He or she' is an agenderphobic microaggression, Sharon. You are a bigot." ― Randy Marsh
"Well well well, two little spireboys, out for a stroll. Time for the Balimeks to collect a fair toll," the voice echoed through the area, giving no clear indication as to the direction it was coming from, a sharp laughter from several voices following closely after, further adding to the confusion.
"You shouldn't be down this way, not with all those goodies you got on you. But we can set it right. Strip down t'yer skivvies and we'll let you walk back to the spires nice and whole. Otherwise..." the sound of several stubbers being cocked echoed through the underhive omninously. The reverberations made it hard to tell just how many there were.
Do not meddle in the affairs of insomniacs, for they are cranky and can do things to you while you sleep. The Realm of Confusion
"Every time you talk about Teal'c, I keep imagining Thor's ass. Thank you very much for that, you fucking fucker." -Marcao SG-14: Because in some cases, "Recon" means "Blow up a fucking planet or die trying." SilCore Wiki! Come take a look!
Lazarus stayed behind his fucking dumpster, weighing his options and looking for any and all possible avenues of escape. He was especially looking for the enemy shooters. He'd never been on an op with only one other man before. He was scared. Bad. His hands were shakin' a little bit.
Stay fucking calm by the Emporer!
Lazarus called up Zakary again,
"What do you think? These assholes will probably just shoot us"
"Hmmm... getting the heretics to finance our investigation of them, sounds like a sound strategy, although in the Guard we generally call that 'foraging', which is to say 'looting'. The trick is, as always, finding the good stuff. I mean, its not like we could go down into the Underhive once Havelock gets some pants and stir up a pogrom amongst the various gangs so that we can go pillaging in the wake of the destruction while flushing out heretics. We don't have the contacts for that yet," Quintos says with a shrug before picking up a set of filtration plugs and a comm bead from the pile Nixious had examined.
Inserting the plug, Quintos breathes a sigh of relief and says, "Ah sweet filtered air, how I have missed thee."
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen. You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
Commander of the MFS Darwinian Selection Method (sexual)
