Block wrote:
"Do any of us really have any idea what we're doing here?"
I certainly don't.
"Apparantly we are are chasing a name, Silvanus, right?"
Nodding at Yelizaveta, Lazarus continued,
"And at least one of us has some expierience at this sort of thing. So lets get a plan about how we can find out more about Silvanus, whatever the hell it is; man, place, or thing."
Chuckling at the turn of the conversation, Quintos says, "Well, if we want to excessively worry ourselves, shall we go through all the possibilities that a proper noun could be? There is the obvious person, the possibility of a place, but it could a thing. The name of an organization, some artefact, perhaps even the name given to someone's lasgun," Quintos then pats his own weapon for good luck.
"Somehow I doubt that they would simply kick us off on a planet and let us wander about blindly. If they do know more information than they are telling us, which as a soldier I can tell you is always the case with regards to officers, then they will either inform us more when we 'need to know', or if this is some sort of test then I cannot see the information being too hard to come by with a bit hard work and faith in the Emperor to see us through."
"Now, if we want to go about this intelligibly, I would suggest that we first figure out who amongst us would be capable of sifting through whatever information we find to give those of us with less subtle proclivities a target."
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
Raj Ahten wrote:"Apparantly we are are chasing a name, Silvanus, right?"
Nodding at Yelizaveta, Lazarus continued,
"And at least one of us has some expierience at this sort of thing. So lets get a plan about how we can find out more about Silvanus, whatever the hell it is; man, place, or thing."
"Well I think the first thing to do would be to check the places that people of... low reputation gather. Wouldn't you agree? Perhaps spread a bit of money around, get people a little drunk, see what slips out. Barring that, we can abduct someone, attach a las pistol charge pack to someone's genitalia and go from there. Anyone familiar with this particular Hive World at all?"
Camillia laughed lightly, before saying "We are few and they are many. This hive, there are billions of people in it, and we have no hope of ever finding 'Silvanus' if we look for it ourselves. But in all places, there are always information brokers, people whose job, or hobby, it is, to know things. And what they know, can turn into what we know."
Academia Nut wrote:"Now, if we want to go about this intelligibly, I would suggest that we first figure out who amongst us would be capable of sifting through whatever information we find to give those of us with less subtle proclivities a target."
"Well Quintos, I'd suggest we ask our Arbites friend over there about that. I assume he has some sort of experience in investigation. For my part I am capable of obtaining information in less conventional ways, as my response to Lazarus indicated, but I suppose he would know any official channels to go through."
Nixios had until now been silent, save for the odd crackle from his voicebox. Rather than join in the conversation, he analyzed the situation as best he could, given the information he had. After a few moments, he came to the conclusion that they knew virtually nothing. Nixios was not troubled by this. He viewed a mystery such as this a gift, another step in the Quest that all members of his order shared.
Block wrote:Barring that, we can abduct someone, attach a las pistol charge pack to someone's genitalia and go from there. Anyone familiar with this particular Hive World at all?"
Nixios was pulled out of his brief introspection by a comment from one of the more unsavory group members. Annoyed at this casual disregard for the pack's machine spirit, he whirled around and uttered a simple "No, you may not. Unless you wish for our weaponry to rebel against us, it would be wise for you to choose a less disrespectful method of interrogation."
"Or maybe we could avoid getting involved in a gang war until we've been there long enough for the obvious to present itself, Verum."
Yelizaveta traced the sign of the aquila on her magazine and murmured the old singsong prayer to its spirit: jam not, shoot true, when I choose t'use you, before placing it back in the autogun.
She studied the blonde woman for a long moment. Adept? Psyker? Noble? Whore?
Last edited by Feil on 2008-02-13 01:11am, edited 1 time in total.
Feil wrote:"Or maybe we could avoid getting involved in a gang war until we've been there long enough for the obvious to present itself, Verum."
"I'll have you know I've never actually been caught doing anything. Completely clean record. And as I said, I prefer the subtle approach, I just think we shouldn't take anything off the table when it comes to dealing with a possible Heretic."
Glancing over at the Techpriest who had chosen that moment to enter the conversation, Quintos bows his head respectfully and says, "If you counsel against such an action, then I will make sure our comrades do not anger their spirits. Besides, I have always thought that a knife through the scrotum but between the testes would be a more effective method. Prevents struggling and focuses the mind wonderfully, plus the spirit of the knife will be pleased to do its duty of cutting, no?"
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
Camillia turned as the other woman examined her. Their eyes met for a moment, and Camillia felt a vague sense of confusion possibly from herself, possibly from the other, and possibly from nowhere at all. While the psyk-senses were working themselves out, Camillia's military training had concluded that this person was a threat of indeterminate level, though probably been in a couple fights, judging from the scars and the distinct lack of a chunk of her left ear. Camillia's own ear tingled a little as she thought about it, so she resolved to not focus on it too much. The other woman appeared to handle her weapon quite well also, but that didn't indicate anything at all.
"You are Yelizaveta? Surely those who know you don't call you that on a daily basis."
"My name is Camillia, but nobody has used that name in a long time. I still answer to it though."
There was a short pause, a silence as both parties were waiting for the other to take action. Camillia then spoke, "You said that you had experience with finding people that didn't want to be found. Are you a tracker? Or perhaps a bounty hunter?"
Zakary Knapping shuffled along meekly to the rear of the group, the drab hem of his robes scraping the deck. The captain's speech had unnerved him somewhat. It wasn't that he was a coward, or anything. He just got a little jittery when words like "Inquisitor" were bandied about. In his studies amidst half-forgotten, artillery-blasted archives, the junior scholar had picked up little hints hidden between the lines of shadowy forces that moved the Byzantine workings of the Imperium from behind the scenes, like pawns in a game of regicide.
And now he was dangerously close to those shadowy forces, and it didn't exactly comfort him. Ignorance is a blessing of the wise, after all.
The irony of that pithy phrase was not lost on him, however, as he listened in to the chatter between the other neophyte acolytes. Sometimes it paid to be in the know, and that was his job.
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
Feil wrote:"The Emperor wills that all people die. Some deaths He wills sooner than others"
A certainty was slowly forming in Liza's mind. She decided to take a chance.
"The other name people called you, Camillia - was it, maybe, Psyker?"
"Now, now Liza. You don't mind if I call you that do you? Of course you don't, there's no need for name calling. For instance it would be terribly impolite for one to notice that you have the look of one of the Officio about you, you even move the way that those trained in the Arts do. I'm sure it's just a coincidence though. Isn't it?"
Camillia then spoke, "You said that you had experience with finding people that didn't want to be found. Are you a tracker? Or perhaps a bounty hunter?"
"And as for you, my lady from Cadi... a, almost got that one to rhyme didn't I? Bounty hunter would happen to be my title, though I suppose I go by many. I have 31 confirmed captures, some I even brought back alive," Verum grinned at that.
Gelt swept back into the body of the neonates cleanly and without disturbing anyone. Not much had obviously changed about him, except for the addition of a helmet. The sharp eyed might notice that his uniform now bulged in places where it hadn't before indicating armor and weapons concealed under it. And in his hands he cradled a shotgun as one might carry an infant.
Overhearing the last snippet of conversation he shifted the unlit lho-stick from one side of his mouth to the other so he could speak more clearly. "We're all here because we've got some talents. Why don't we all sit down and introduce ourselves first before we do anything else? Our lives might very well be in each other's hands soon."
Commander of the MFS Darwinian Selection Method (sexual)
Zakary nodded in agreement with Gelt, and after mustering himself with a noisy 'ahem', inflicted his irritating nasal voice upon the gathering.
"Yes, well, quite a good idea. I'll start? Zakary Knapping, at everyone's service, or at least in theory. I've a rudimentary but working knowledge of a number of topics of interest, and I'm a fair to decent shot with a stubber, if I do say so myself."
The robed young man then nodded to himself, satisfied.
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 took a step back from the conversation, wearing his customary scowl. He realized that he didn't know anything about who the other team members actually were, and he had actually gone as far as to call the mission 'bullshit.' A Commisar would have had his ass for sure for that. Who knew how the Inquisition operated.
I always got to open my big mouth. Best keep my head down, do the best job I can, and trust in the Emporer.
At least a plan seemed to be developing. They could find an information broker and see what he knew. It was a starting place, anyway.
Nodding, Quintos says, "Good to meet you Zakary, my name is Quintos Havelock, and as you might have guessed from my gear I'm a soldier, pure and simple. If you want something shot or stabbed, I'm the man to talk to, although if you want a driver, I admit to having a bit of skill with ground vehicles. I suppose I make a good sentry too."
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
"I've operated civilian aircraft. Where I come from, fliers are the only way to go faster than walking or climbing. If this place is the same, I could handle most light craft."
A wordy bunch. Octavius mused to himself. Useless talk. Pathetic.
He had sat throughout the whole groups discourse. His jade eyes reviewed those before him. The captain seemed like a solid man. Then there were the others. Two were obviously psykers. The mutant tools of Imperium. Octavius was no pleased to be working with such individuals. They were unstable foul, cursed beings, not fit to be called human. Then there were the guardsmen. Grunts, expendable wastes ready to die for the Emperor. He was pleased to notice a fellow Arbites. He nodded inwardly approval at the mans quick reply to the noisy guardsmen. His only gripe was that the man was impure of body. The vile lho-sticks were naught but the crutches of a weak body and an even weaker mind.
A quick prayer to the Emperor in thanks for providing one of Ecclesiarchy. His faith would be nourished and his mind kept clean of taint. But that was his last light of gladness. The rest appeared to be no different from the hive scum who he regularly sent to face the judgment of the Emperor.
Octavius closed his eyes and tried to meditate on the situation. His light brown skin was dried and spots of grey ashe had appeared on his face, the result of the dry air of the vessel. The trip from Utopan Septimus had been odd. Octavius had not left the hive, let alone the planet save for the day he was sent by his family to a Schola Progenium. It was freeing though. Despite the fact that his company were mostly utter scum, they all were here to serve the Emperors will and law, not like the underhive gangers with whom he was accustomed to dealing.
I am the hammer, I am the right hand of my Lord. The instrument of His will and the gauntlet about His fist. The tip of His spear, the edge of His sword. I am His wrath just as he is my shield. I am the bane of His foes and the woe of the treacherous. I am the end.
-Ravus Ordo Militis
"Fear and ignorance claim the unwary and the incomplete. The wise man may flinch away from their embrace if he girds his soul with the armour of contempt."
At this point he had really no choice but deal with the blunts who secretly wanted to murder him. "I am Varnius Kast of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica," he said. "I am, as you blunts so charmingly put it, a psyker witch. If we could continue this conversation without any muttering of 'accursed witch' and the like, it would be appreciated."
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.
As Varnius finished, Liza realized the explanation for the other psyker's stunned silence. She paled.
"Camillia, I'm sure the Inquisition--" Emperor, that word felt strange, spoken like that. "They wouldn't have chosen anyone who wasn't loyal, and I didn't mean it like that, I just..."
Unsure what to say, Liza decided not to say anything.
An astropath? I thought they went blind when they saw the.... Oh. Oh, my God.
Liza checked her gear one more time. Everything was in place. She flicked a glance at Varnius, noting with surprise that he was not only bald but completely hairless. Her curiosity overcame the deep discomfort she felt when she knew she was around psykers - for the first time since she'd been puzzled through the script of the missive that had somoned her here, she felt an emotion stronger than the nasty nervous tingling between her shoulder blades. She brushed past the knot of people who had gathered around Lazarus and her, nodding to Camillia on her way. She felt eyes on her back and ignored them.
"Varnius," she said slowly. "Is it true what they say? That astropaths have seen the Emperor's soul?"
"Yes," said Varnius. "They are touched, for a moment, by a fraction of the glory of Him on Earth. My own experience was not . . . not so close."
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.
Commander of the MFS Darwinian Selection Method (sexual)
