40K Dark Heresy: The Recondite War

[Jaevric]

Darien grunts, and says, "So, do we go grab this Enforcer Troveo and interrogate him or try to follow him? Following him might be more rewarding, but would be considerably harder to do. Best case I suppose would be to pick him up quietly and force him to work for us, but that would be the most difficult option."

[The Yosemite Bear]

well our associate Crom is always talking about how observant he is. Trailing an enforcer should be no problem for him. Eli said with a wicked grin.

[Zablorg]

Crom snatched his knife from Eli.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, I can do that. In a week, accounting for complications invloving red tape. Less, If you can set me up with some references..."

Crom returned the grin to Eli.

"You should tell us, sometime, about exactly how you got through that asteroid field. Thrilling tale, I'm sure."

[NecronLord]

The bound Enforcer squinted at his interrogators, "Shouldn't be hard... Troveo's on duty upstairs..."

[Zablorg]

"Well, that makes things a lot easier. If you would come with me upstairs, Proctor LaHare?"

[Jaevric]

Darien starts to stand up and come along, then stops and looks over the prisoner.

"I guess someone had better stay here and keep an eye on things," he mutters, settling back into the chair while settling his shotgun across his knees.

[The Yosemite Bear]

I haven't departed, besides you can't launch your self down the hall or up the stairs by pushing off just so...

how do you dirt siders ever deal with it?

[NecronLord]

“There’s a noble who uses suspensors to get around, in Cadamar City. So I imagine you’re not the only one who thinks so,” the Proctor said to the spacer, heading up to the hatch, he looked at the four guards still on duty on the landing platform, holding his pistol by the butt, and pointed at one of them, “Seize him!” he shouted, as at the same time the junior enforcer unslung his autogun, but then reconsidered, throwing it down. The other three grabbed hold of the malfeasant He looked at Darien, “Your prisoner, arbitrator…”

[Jaevric]

My prisoner? Darien thought to himself in surprise, barely restraining himself from speaking out loud, which he supposed would have quickly spoiled the tough witch hunter image.

"Well, that was certainly convenient. Take his armor and weapons, and put some shackles on him. Enforcer Troveo, isn't it? We need to talk."

Waiting while the newest addition to their collection of traitors is stripped of his gear and shackled, Darien starts wondering where they're going to keep them all -- or at least the ones they end up keeping alive.

Seeing that the man has been suitable restrained, Darien nods in satisfaction and grabs him by the upper arm.

"Proctor, have you somewhere more secure we might restrain these men while we decide on their ultimate disposition? Preferably someplace with wall shackles, good ventilation, and floor drains. Just in case this fellow proves less cooperative than the other."

[NecronLord]

The Proctor nodded, "The cells we keep the witches in have those; well, the drainage isn't good, purely chemical. But no one's been bothered to worry about the smell..."

[White Haven]

Ajax leans in towards Darien, having tailed the capture party out of the kitchen, and whispers in a low, private tone, "Why don't we keep these two separated...leave them wondering what the other's told us."

[Jaevric]

"Good enough. Hopefully the drainage won't become an issue, and there's always servitors for the mopping-up if necessary, eh?" Darien directs that last comment with a baring of teeth that can only be loosely described as a smile to the man in custody.

What to do, what to do, Darien muses to himself. These guys already know the other fellow talked, because we're arresting Troveo. So word is going to spread fairly rapidly through the rumor mill no matter what. The trick is going to be how to take advantage of that to learn as much as we can before the shooting starts.

"Do you have a way to shut down unauthorized communications from this facility?"

[NecronLord]

"I expect so," the Proctor said, calmbering down, taking one of the remaining (presumably) loyal guards with him, adjusting two of the remaining emptly witch-cells into position - its gears and chains could be felt rattling the structure - then looking about for Mercurius, in order to disable the small communications cupboard directly under a towering mast on one corner of the upper landing pad.

[Jaevric]

"A moment, please, Proctor. I'm not completely certain disabling communications is necessary, assuming it's possible to control its use. We'll need to discuss some options with Mercurius, I think."

Darien moves to secure the two prisoners in individual cells, checking their restraints carefully and searching them for any holdout weapons or other items of interest.

Let them sweat for a while in the cells, Darien thinks to himself. I've got a couple of ideas regarding our next move but I want to see what the rest of the team thinks, and it might be a good idea to let the Proctor come up with some ideas as well, as opposed to being bossed around by the hirelings.

[Lancer]

Mercurius had remained in the control-room, having copied the telemetry to his dataslate, and he now worked diligently to convert the location stamps to the Imperial coordinate system, silently cursing this world for it's ignorance to the virtues of standardization. He beckoned a nearby guard to fetch somebody who could explain how the local mapkeeping system worked.

[NecronLord]

There was nothing in the empty cells save a solid bunk part of which could be lifted to provide access to a chemical toilet (designed to be almost impossible to hide anything in) and a heavy door. Eventually, Mecurius Haxtes was presented with one of the remaining guards able to provide the required information.

[The Yosemite Bear]

Hmm, we have a currupt lord, and some arms men to deal with. Now I'm in need of some company, and some information. Crom, Scar, lets say we ask someone where the nearest establishment is, buy a few drinks, get some nice company, and try to find out other sources of information that don't involve cutting parts of people's bodies off, or setting them on fire.

After all wenches seem to know all about where a good party is, and nobles are always going to parties.

Eli flashed a devious smile.

[White Haven]

A slow smile begins to spread across the black-coated man's face as an idea comes to mind. Glancing about to kame sure there's no way either prisoner could overhear, he speaks up, "Perhaps we should make this a competition of sorts. Make our two damned souls aware that whichever one of them helps us less will be turned over to the Inquisition. The fate of the remaining one, well, that can stay in the shadows for the moment." He bares his teeth in a broad grin, "After all, that's one promise we can make without too much trouble, hmm?"

[Zablorg]

Crom whispered back at Eli.

"Sounds like a fine idea, my friend. But you have to remember, we're witch hunters..."

He beckoned to the Proctor and the guard.

"...and there are people who would not look highly upon witch hunters socializing. Let's finish up here first, hmm?"

[The Yosemite Bear]

yes, but even witchhunters need to gather information and drink too. Depite that, I was thinking of not showing our hand to the bar patrons.

(Wispering) Besides if you and I have to find some work around here, and our big feral worlder friend could make for a good bit of backup, should we need it.

[Balrog]

The Guardsman was wracking his brain as he stood near-by looking at the display of the tracking collar's last known location. It had been awhile since he'd used the Askelphion coordinate system, having recently been using Imperial Guard standard, but he recalled the basics of it. Bah, if only I could remember.

"Aha!" He turned to face the 'witch-hunters' in the control room. "I've had to work with this system a number of times over the years, but if I recall correctly this location is somewhere out in the middle of the ocean. There won't be too many ports within range, a few at most, but I'd have to check with a map and work out some numbers first, probably get a cognitor to help out with that..."

[Zablorg]

"Hrm. If he's out in the middle of the ocean....

"Here's what I make of this. He must have some point in going to the ocean, yeah? Otherwise he would just teleport somewhere else to begin with. Maybe he's taken refuge at some secret installation, which would play right into our... mission. If we go there, we would probably find what we're looking for."

He looked at everyones faces only to find dull bemusement.

"...Yeah, I got nothin'..."

[Jaevric]

Darien says, dryly, "Or maybe he'd arranged to have a ship out there waiting for him. Or, rather, whoever is running this show did. We'll need to check those ports, I suppose, but maybe one of our new "friends" will have some information."

[The Yosemite Bear]

oh, and trolling those docksides, looking for information on this mystery and conspiracy an "Underground" for witches is a serious threat.

[Jaevric]

"I think our next step should be to interrogate Troveo. Who knows, maybe he'll be less cooperative than the first idiot."

Let's see how guilty this man's conscience really is.

Striding into Troveo's cell, he looks the man up and down for a moment, expression coldly contemptuous, then makes eye contact with the prisoner and simply stares. Crossing his arms, Darien waits patiently to see how the prisoner reacts.