Gymnasium: Arcturus, Zee, Remilia, Sakuya...Trogg

The reassembled man bowed again.

"Milord Inquisitor, my thanks for preserving us from the xenos. Now...the first matter which concerns us is one of tech-heresy. We are at present few, however, the remains of the greenskins' strange works ar spread across the station. In the interest of investigation, I request right of Lex Imperium-Mechanica Salvar on behalf of my brethren. You have my word of the items' destruction once our investigation is complete. The second matter..."

Yaripov rubbed the back of his head.

"How may we repay you, and..."

He looked around to Remilia and Zee, barely stopping himself from boggling at Flandre.

"...Your associate Inquisitors? Your deeds merit reciprocation."

The beleaguered Magos twitched again as Zee's hands took hold, and then her own grip tightened. She grimaced with effort, the words coming through clearer and with less noise.

krrZZZZZZZIIIIKK-the pattern will not yiii-OF ALL THE THINGS, I FIND HELP FROM THE FLESHLY SIDE OF THE OMNISSIAH— KEEEEEEEEEE Evrsst-the pat-tern is-NOT-going-TO-accept-LOSING TO A WORTHLESS XENO CODE-kRRRRRRrrrrrrr-you have not won yet-FRAK OFF, I'M EVICTING YOU- HEEHEEHEE, FOUND IT! INITIATING DATA WIPE...

Abruptly, Sahm's bionic grip tightened into a bone-crushing fist. Her augmetic eyes burned an overbright green. Her voice took on a guttural, malicious tone, which steadily weakened over the next seconds.

Hohohahahahaharrr, nice, Arkangelsk, but it don't make eny diff'rence! We're alread-getting what-wanted. Bes-es, You don't-where -am-and even -do... THAT'S ENOUGH OF YOUR HERESY IN MY HEAD! EXECUTE PURGE PROTOCOL: BEGONE, AND TAKE YOUR MISBEGOTTEN CODE WITH YOU!

Magos Sahm sat bolt-upright, panting with a sound like an industrial cogitator fan, her hood falling away from her shock of iron-grey hair. Slowly but surely, her bionic grip loosened, the augmetic optics dimmed, and her breathing slowed to a normal rate. The tech-priestess wore an expression of profound relief, sagging against Zee's hands.

01001101 01100001 01100011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100101 00101101 01000111 01101111 01100100, I am never going to forget that miserable groxshit as long as I live...but at least I have my mind to myself. I know I would be censured by my peers for this, but thank you, and thank the Emperor.

The optics dimmed further in a sort of squint, blinking out twice. Magos Sahm frowned with testy huff.

Oy, that mangy bag of fungus messed up my sensory input, I can barely see anything...But I can see... frakking warp, ma'am, you look like you've been through the wringer... -koff-ehemm-

She carefully rose to her feet, and just as gingerly bowed. When her head rose again, her desiccated lips parted in a weak but positively vindictive smile.

I think I know how I can properly thank you: the thug rooting around my head was Gearhard, Mek-Boss and self-proclaimed 'Superiork'. He's the xeno who led the attack, the whole operation is his doing, and the Flashy blowhard who damaged my body was Lodzateef, he was a major backer, had virtually no say in it aside from getting nominal command and a ridiculous suit of armor. I hope you got him. Finally, I know exactly where the wretched meat-bag is holed up, along with the rest of the hostages: top floor, Observatarium Dome. Take care, he is the one who built Lodzateef's kit, and he has a much better idea of how to use it. I formally request that you smash him and his tech-heresy to a pulp for me, and everyone else on this benighted station.

Dorothea Sahm paused, then frowned again, worried.

If they're still alive, poor Clea and Piotry are up there... I hope Jon and Jaklene got far enough to be out of danger, my CAT did not see them...

Very few of the civilians wanted much to do with Remilia, though they certainly admired her elegance from a distance. The main exception was the man in the smoking jacket, Fishbine. He gave the vampire an appraising look (after some mild disappointment that Sakuya had been ordered away), then, despite the frantic head-shaking from his assistant, strolled with long strides towards her. The man gave short bow, then extended a platinum-ringed hand.

"Hello, Lady Inquisitor, it's a great pleasure to be saved in such spectacular fashion. Where are my manners, though, in front of such a fine and devastating young lady? My name is Phineas Guthrie Fishbine, of Fishbine Imperial Munitions Manufaction & Supply, and I think I have just the kind of offer any discerning Inquisitor wants! How'sabout we hash out a contract?"

His assistant froze, then with unusual grace glided over to stand behind her employer, adamant-plated dataslate and stylus in hand.

(At a rough estimate, there were sixty-seven former hostages present in the Gymnasium that had not already fled out the doors.)

The ponytailed woman covered her mouth for a moment in thought.

"Two Inquisitors and...and a Living Saint in the same party...That's quite exceptional. Quite familiar too..."

If Trogg's limited faculties would allow it, he might notice a small fleur'de'lys tattoo peeking out the sleeve of her shirt.

edited 2nd Jul '15 7:42:17 PM by Colonial1.1

Arcturus stood in thought for a couple of seconds as he considered the Magos' words.

"Very well. It is only right that Adepts of the Mechanicus get first crack at this sort of xenotechnology. However, I would like to retain a marginal amount of whatever samples you procure for further study by an Ordo Xenos associate of mine. I will also request that you forward notable results of your investigation to me - this threat cannot go unminded, after all."

He smiled faintly at the offer of repayment.

"While I thank you for your offer, Magos, personally I do not require anything of note at this moment. I would however like for you and your brethren to consider any future requests I may have. I cannot say when such a request may be issued, or what it may be, but I believe we both agree that you do owe me a favour, if I may be so bold. As for my fellow Inquisitors, it would perhaps be for the best if they spoke for themselves, yes?"

He gestured towards the two other Inquisitors in the gymnasium.

"Come, might as well make introductions."

Arcturus turned about face and strode across the pitch towards his former charge - Remilia, sipping on a glass of what Arcturus guessed was blood, looking for all the world like she was mingling in a ballroom rather than standing on a scorched and bullet riddled scrumball pitch. He elected to not mention the blood to the Archmagos in tow.

"Archmagos Yaripov, this is my colleague and longtime associate, Inquisitor Remilia Scarlet. Remilia, this is Factor Yaripov, Archmagos and a member of the Sector Council. I believe he wishes to thank you in person for your services. Perhaps my wife will join us in a moment, once she is finished tending to that Adept over there."

edited 3rd Jul '15 7:27:35 AM by l3wt

-Having been taught to look at the person speaking to him by handlers with extraordinary patience and heavy clubs, Trogg's gaze goes from the lady's mouth to her hand, and from there to her arm. The symbol, being associated with all that is good and pure in his mind, causes him to smile happily.-

Sistur am here for help kiziter?

Flandre looked down as a crowd started to form bellow her. Her copies faded away as the young vampire floated down to the ground, looking around in confusion and slight apprehension. She wasn't usually approached like this, unless someone wanted to shout something about 'abhuman scum' or something like that. She looked to the closest young man, looking a bit curiously at his coice of eyewear. "Ummm. I'm not really good at explaining things. Where I come from its just something that we can do, flying is really easy." She answered.

Izumi nodded her head once she was finished treating the soldier's wounds. She did her best to try and ignore the comments from some of the nobility that had just been rescued. "P-Please make some room for the Inquisitorial agents to be t-treated." She muttered nervously as she shuffled her way over to Drake. She would administer the tranquilizer to him before moving on and doing the same to Ichisen. Hopefully that would counter the affects of the drugs in their systems while they ran their course.

Zee stayed by the Magos’ side as she began to rid herself of the xenos code, holding her hand throughout. She did not even flinch when Dorothea’s grip suddenly tightened to painful levels; after everything she’d been through in the last few hours, this barely even registered in her mind. The glowing green optics and the sudden guttural voice were of far greater concern, and Zee’s eyes narrowed as whatever foul beast was leading this Waaagh spoke through Magos Sahm as if she were a ventriloquist’s puppet.

Her brows drew together as she locked eyes with the poor woman, her expression merciless. “We will soon enough, ork,” she told the voice. “Be sure of that.”

Then the Magos’ true voice was on the ascendant once more. Zee gave her some assistance as Dorothea rose to her feet and stepped back, once she was sure the tech-priest would be able to support herself. Zee, for her part, gave herself a onceover when Magos Sahm brought up her appearance, taking in the battered state of her crimson Sororitas armour and the dried blood which covered parts of her exposed flesh.

The Living Saint placed one hand on her hip. “Well, I admit, I’ve seen better days. It’s hard to be fashionable when one is knee-deep in greenskins,” she said with a wry quirk of her lips.

Then her expression turned serious as Sahm relayed what she had learned, committing the name and the location of the horde’s loathsome warlord to memory. She nodded at Dorothea’s warning about the ork’s skill, and placed a hand on her shoulder once more when she was finished.

“The children are safe, Magos. My husband and our team came across them earlier; Jon and Jaklene were scared, but otherwise unharmed when we found them.” She gave the tech-priest a reassuring look. “I give you my word, as an Inquisitor and a Living Saint of the Ecclesiarchy, that we will find their parents and bring them back safely… and if we cannot do that, we will avenge them.”

Seeing that Arcturus and Remilia were now speaking with two of the former hostages, a dust-jacketed socialite and another cowled, crimson-robed adept of the Machine-God, Zee approached them, bringing Magos Sahm with her. She arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Arcturus making introductions on Remilia’s behalf, which she took as her cue to smile and nod in greeting. She said nothing more at the moment, waiting for her friend and mistress to speak; as she did so, she reached out to her husband’s mind.

+I’ve learned some useful information from our new friend. The leader of this rabble is a Mek-Boss named Gearhard, also called “the Superiork”; he’s the architect of the strange new technologies the greenskins have been bedevilling us with so far. And dear, he isn’t just concocting war machines; he’s also dabbling in something akin to scrap code.+

edited 20th Jul '15 8:02:27 AM by SullenFrog

Remilia studied the assembled hostages, doing some internal calculations. Sixty-seven, and adding that to those who had fled...they were making good progress. She was about to join Arcturus when the man Fishbine approached her. A munitions merchant...now, she did have a use for a man such as that. She put her hand in his, for him to kiss.

Nice to meet you, Mr. Fishbine, Remilia replied. Your offer is most welcome, even though present conditions prevent me from engaging in a spot of bartering right now.

Remilia indicated for Sakuya to approach his assistant, and the maid dutifully wrote down a few items of interest.

At present, I require a number of these items, and you would have my gratitude for helping supplying me with such. Have a look at what you and your associates can do, and contact me when you have an offer. Until then, Mr. Fishbine.

Remilia gave an elegant, albeit short bow, then turned to welcome Arcturus and the Archmagos. Mr. Fishbine in the meanwhile was left with a dataslate that simply said: "Seeking and Melta Torpedoes"

A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Archmagos.

With her excellent hearing, Remilia had followed their conversation from afar, and knew fully well of his offer of a reward. However, she decided not to bring that up straight away.

Ichisen did her best not to cower on the floor as a giant Izumi approached with medical tools that seemed bigger than all of Ichisen. However, the reassuring touch of her sister helped her keep calm as she was administered the medicine.

Thank you, Izumi, Jisen said with a relieved smile.

edited 13th Jul '15 11:25:14 AM by Lemurian

Gymnasium: Flandre, Trogg

The sharply-dressed young man nodded with a slight narrowing of the eyes, switching off the monolens with a click. It was now nothing more than an unusually fancy monocle. He slipped it into a hidden pocket amid the brocade.

" Interesting. That's not warpcraft, so... I'll wager you're one of those rumored abhumans from the "new" world. Far more graceful than I expected... Ah forgive me-"

He gave a crisp and neat bow.

'' I am Clemenz Mikoyovich, of House Anaztos. I have birdwatching as a hobby, and archaeo-avionics as my profession. Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Lady Interrogator."

With those words, he gracefully knelt down and kissed her hand. He then returned to his feet with the same ease. There was an excited glimmer in those deep green eyes.

"I've never seen one of your kind before, but now that I've met you... we have an incredible opportunity. You see, my family deals in the recovery and test production of avionic archaeotech, whenever we (and the Brothers of the Mechanicus, of course) can get our hands on designs. I would like you to be a test model for one such piece: An aerospace anti-grav pack, modular for combat fittings and wargear. Why you? Because as far as the priests can tell, it is controlled by some sort of mental-link, and you seem to fly with only a thought. You would simply have to give us reports on its function while you're testing it."

Mikoyovich cleared his throat, and his expression became stoic.

" The arrangement depends on your will, of course. Inquisitorial authority is near-absolute."

The pony-tailed woman twitched with a short laugh, moving so that the fleur'de'lys was covered.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. He seems to be keeping things shipshape and Bretanni fashion."

Her voice lowered slightly.

"I hope he's done the same with any vessels he owns..."

Einz...

Flandre wasn't sure how to respond to the bow, not use to that kind of menners from anyone outside of Gensokyo. He recognized that she was an abhuman, but didn't seem at all annoyed by it, even going far enough to compliment her...kind of. Before the young vampiress could respond to his introduction, the young man took her hand and kissed it, causing her face to flush a little redder. She blinked in surprise as he stood back up and hesitantly bowed, wondering what Remilia would do in this situation. "U-Uhhh right. Flandre Scarlet of House Scarlet, Interrogator under Inquisitor Scarlet." She replied.

The younger Scarlet listened to the young man's proposal, trying her best to understand what he was saying. A lot of his words went right over her head, much to her growing frustration, but the jist of what she caught was that he wanted her help testing some flying device. Half of her considered asking Remilia or Arcturus if this was a good idea, but...she'd need to make her own decisions right? She couldn't keep running to others to make these for her forever. She brushed that idea to the side with a defiant exhale, standing upright.

Brushing some blond hair that fell out of place in the battle, she nodded her head to Clemenz. "Yeah, alright. That should be something I can take care of between deployments. I can't promise that the reports will be too often, but this sounds like it could be very useful for the Imperium." She said earnestly.

Gymnasium, Wheels and Deals

Mr. Fishbine obliged the gesture, taking Remilia's proffered hand in his and kissing it in the old style. When he came away, her hand would smell faintly of mint. The arms magnate listened to what she had to say with a smile, though there was a subtle focus to the eyes which spoke of wheels moving behind them. His assistant, meanwhile, glanced at the armored maid as she put down her mistress's selection. Her brow furrowed.

Fishbine gave a sweeping bow in return, before handing the junior Inquisitor a gleaming platinum card, lumen tech worked into its text and gold insignia (a screaming eagle riding a macrocannon shell) .

"AB-solutely, Lady Inquisitor! Just remember to spread the word on who gave you these Best quality products! We'll be in touch. Dolores, hand me that there slate if you would, darlin'! Let's see..."

At Arcturus's granting, the Magos Factor stiffened his back and loosed a (mercifully quiet) stream of binary. Those tech-priests least encumbered by damage straightened up in similar fashion, then scurried off into the patches of Ork corpses to hunt for equipment. He then relaxed, and listened to the Inquisitor's proposal. Yaripov's mouth twitched on hearing what the man wanted.

"A favour? How non-specific. Very well, it is an acceptable price."

Nonetheless, it was clear that the Arch-Magos was somewhat rueful over his earlier choice of words as Arcturus led him over to Remilia. He bowed, eyes sweeping over her wings but once before making eye-contact.

"Lady Inquisitor... You are new to the rosette-but...ah, your commission proceeds at speed. Do you have a request to augment it?"

Magos Sahm nodded, brows relaxing some.

Let us pray that it never comes to that. Neither pair were meant to deal with this kind of madness. Oh, here we go...

Once Zee and Dorothea had gotten within range of the others, the old tech-priestess wearily screeched a line of binary. Arch-Magos Yaripov raised a symmetrical brow, not taking his eyes off Remilia until the sainted Inquisitor drew closer. He bowed, then raised a finger indicating that he would respond to her shortly, and the vampires of the group would hear a barely audible hum of code exchange. Magos Sahm lowered her augmetic gaze to the floor, looking chastened yet irritable.

At the base of the central stairs (those being the ones Arcturus's team had fought over), a number of Ecclesiarchy clergymen (among them the old archdeacon) conferred among themselves, occasionally giving Zee a thoughtful look.

"Emperor be praised, this is a rare sight. It's quite uncommon for one of us to catch her in the act these past years..."

"Aye, but do ye hear what they say? Weird circumstances an' rumors about how she came ta be. That's not even getting into the parts about strange abhumanity and witchery. Are ye sure we should set down stones for this one?"

"Throne's sake, Gregori, she saved our lives and performed a miracle. That's worth something in this empire."

"Aye, I ken that. But it can't hurt ta be careful. Saints can be perilous things wit'out due consideration."

"Let us remember that she has all the marks of Him-On-Terra's investiture of power."

"Hff... that's true. Just ta be clear, I'm nae doubting His judgement and power, glorious be it. It's jes that the Inquisition had more say in the matter than we did. Their very own Saint..."

"Well, we've seen good works, many dead orkz, and personages saved... I think a shrine in the Cathedra Tirax would be a fine start. You wouldn't object to that, would you, Gregori?"

"Mmmmh... Nae. It would be best for the masses ta see her favorably, especially where we are. I'd jes like some more scrutiny and due tests."

"Is that more of your desire for due process, Gregori, or because she is a comely one?"

"Ah shut it, Borodin. Ye know I'm already married... An' she is too, ye perverted lout in robes!"

"I'm just saying..."

"Will both of you shut your mouths? So we agree that we should commission a shrine, yes?"

"Aye..."

The young man's eyes brightened. He had looked thoughtful (and slightly worried) watching the blonde vampiress's face after he gave his offer. This time, he made sure to slow down by a measure when he spoke.

"Good. I'm glad to have you on board this project. If it works out, we could expand our work so that the whole sector can benefit. Here...

Clemenz handed her a small adamantium card, inlaid with a holodisplay emitter which projected its text and green-red emblem (a peculiar creature which combined the traits of lion and eagle, with an armored knight astride it).

" Our contact codes and my company Astropath number."

He closed his eyes for a moment, before saying his next words in a mild deadpan.

"We will need more information in order to fit the interface suit. Not right now, of course, but over the line."

Around Flandre and Mikoyovich, the other onlookers gave a wide berth. Not so wide that they could not watch and listen to them, however. Or so wide as to prevent comment

"Tch. Very rough. So little refinement from one born of a noble house."

"If you want to consider it a proper noble house. They're all abhumans, you know. And that boy... pfft, he actually gets excited doing work."

"And they think they're better than us, wearing costumes of tradesmen and soldiers..."

"Really, she's just a girl playing at things beyond her age..."

Zwei...

edited 24th Jul '15 7:57:49 PM by Colonial1.1

Arcturus replied to Zee's thoughts as Remilia spoke with Fishbine and the Magos, glancing in the Saint's direction as she approached. It must have seemed odd to onlookers, how neither of them seemed to say anything to each other.

+Disconcerting. It seems we must work harder to protect our machines in the future, lest they be corrupted by even Ork efforts. Like the Hereteks weren't bad enough. This "Superiork" is an aberration - it must be hunted down. But at the moment, we have more pressing concerns. There is a second group of hostages, held at the Observatorium. The very top-most part of the station.+

The Inquisitor's brow furrowed for a moment. Something was slightly different in the mental map, like undue amounts of attention was being focused at...

Ah. Really? At a time like this?

He blinked, then pivoted slowly - like the turret of a tank - eyes searching for the disturbance. There. A group of clergymen. A corner of the Inquisitor's lips turned upward in wry amusement.

+Well, well, well... You have admirers, Zee. I would applaud these men of the cloth for their piety, except I'm not confident it is your spirituality they worship so.+

Zee fought the urge to sigh as her superhumanly sharp hearing picked up the whispered words of the clergymen. +Believe me, dear, I noticed,+ she replied, her psychic words conveying an all-too-familiar exasperation and weariness that her expression and body language did not. When you grew up in the courts of hive spire nobility, you learned to keep your cards close to the chest and guard your emotions.

It was hardly the first time her nature as a Living Saint had been called into question. Ever since that miraculous day when the Emperor’s hallowed light had entered her body and purified her of the daemon Laernariel’s taint, skeptics and doubters had aired concerns about whether she was truly divine, truly redeemed. Darius Bickerstaff and his ilk were among her most outspoken detractors, but they were far from the only ones.

These clerics and ministers of the Ecclesiarchy may not have been spewing the sort of vitriol a brute like Darius’ pet confessor Gaius Morax might, and their opinions of her did seem favourable, more or less. Even so, their attention was a reminder of how polarizing a figure she was in the eyes of the Imperium.

Zelenin Arkangelsk. That name meant many things to many people. Scion of a noble house. Inquisitor. Psyker. Saint. Soldier. Wife. Servant. Mutant. Abhuman. Vampire. Witch. Daemon. Which of these meanings was the right one?

Which indeed, dear heart?

Zee shook her head then, dispelling that train of thought. She knew who she was. She’d had one hundred and fifty years to come to terms with her new, vampiric existence. Now wasn’t the time to get mired in such existential ponderings; they still had a job to do.

Glancing over her shoulder, she flashed the clergymen a brief smile. “I can hear you, you know,” she said, her tone light and chiding.

Turning back to her husband, her expression turned serious. +Putting that aside, I know about the hostages already. Gearhard is holed up there with them, if Magos Sahm’s information is correct. We’ll need to exercise caution if we want to keep civilian casualties to a minimum.+

-Trogg nods, his misshapen head bobbing up and down like a spore mine in a windstorm.-

Yurr. Kwizterr keeps ship Lis and Durr in shape of ship. Can not fly if not right shape.

Remilia's eyes lingered on Mr. Fishbine's face just in time to catch his expression upon inspecting the dataslate, smiled to herself and then directed her full attention to the Arch-Magos.

Well, almost full. The only thing that could keep Remilia from preying upon the ill-worded promises of people in positions of power was people talking about her sister behind her back. Remilia lifted a finger, and Sakuya left her position by her older mistress to join the younger mistress.

Sakuya crossed the distance with the discrete walk of an excellently-trained servant, and meekly took up station a step behind Flandre's right shoulder. From that position where the nobles could not see her face clearly, she affixed young Mikoyovich with an ice-blue look that hinted at the consequences of further indiscretions.

Meanwhile, Remilia was being all smiles with the Arch-Magos.

Yes, indeed. I am having a personal ship built, as is only proper, and these days I'm find myself lacking certain, ah, how to say it, particular parts. Very embarrassing, I'm sure you understand. How about we have a nice little cup of tea after all this has been sorted and have a talk about how such parts could be procured?

Flandre took the card from the young man, giving it a once over in her hand to make sure nothing was out of place on it. She didn't exactly have a great frame of reference of course, but it seemed fine to her. The young vampiress was a little impressed with the holodisplay of the card. Seemed like a little frivolous to use for such a simple card, but oh well. She slipped the card into a pouch on the side of her armor, clasping it shut.

The younger Scarlet turned her head slightly when she heard Sakuya approaching, but gave no other acknowledgement that she knew she was there. She also picked up on all of the snide comments floating around her. This was the gratitude she'd come to expect of Imperium nobility. Made her wonder if the galaxy would really lose anything if the Orkz had completely taken over the ship. It was enough to distract her from any embarrassment Clemenz's last comment might have provided.

With a curt bow to her new research partner she said "Very well. If that is all, I will be sure to be in touch." With that she turned, beckoning the maid to follow. She didn't really have anywhere to go in mind, just away from the ungrateful humans. Thus, she walked back over to join her sister.

Arcturus nodded. +Alright, then it's time to get this cattle herd out of here. If we act quickly, we can cut off the head of this madness and hopefully never have to deal with technologically advanced Orks ever again. Also, this will be a bit loud.+

The Inquisitor donned his helmet, walked a few paces away from Zee and the others turned up the volume of his vox modulator as high as it would go.

"If I may have everybody's attention, please?" He was glad for the modulator, it managed to hide some of the annoyance in his tone. He'd probably come off as a longsuffering Arbites traffic controller without it.

"Any and all hostages who have not yet vacated the area are instructed to do so now via the gate by the RED goalposts, guard detachments will be ready to extract you from there as you leave. Do not leave from any other gate, those areas may not be fully secure, and we cannot guarantee your safety should you get lost. My team and I are going to go ahead and end this mess, feel free to offer up a prayer or two in our name on the shuttle ride out of here."

He switched to the retinue's frequency. "Let's finish up here, people. Regroup by the opposite gate, we move out as soon as we're gathered up and ready."

edited 29th Jul '15 2:03:16 PM by l3wt

Some mishaps and many dead Orkz later...

Persepolis Observatarium

Like the Gymnasium, this vast chamber had several entrances, and a large number of hostages. Unlike that place, the Observatarium was a ravaged mess. Its crystal clear ceiling had shattered open at the apex of the dome, glass covering the ornate bronze floor in a mix of shards and powder. From outside the station, the great tick-like Ork ship protruded a long boarding tube with stairs through the hole, a multitude of thick cables and fine crystal lines trailing from it. These connections plugged into a strange machine which resembled ancient cogitator (even possessing a keyboard and holoscreens), but covered in a blend of ramshackle plating and thin psychoplastic spires. This machine extended in a wide circle of metal sections and more equipment

Within the xenos contraption worked the Ork Sakuya had glimpsed earlier, a hefty Big Mek and Cybork with a pilfered Mechanicus robe covering most of its body. It fretted over the keys, a simian grin on its face. Surrounding this makeshift tek-station were ten Shoota Boyz, all armed with the same weird silver rayguns used by the Storm Boyz outside. All of them kept their guns trained on their hostages, yet eyed the doors eagerly.

These captive Imperial citizens bore on them insignia and trappings of higher office, ranging from the Xerxes head of the Administratum to the Cardinal of Tiraxus, to their most valued staff and apprentices. Among the group were a raven-haired couple (married, by their bands) in brightly-dyed robes (depicting scenes from Tiraxus' capital hive spires, of all things). Both also wore signet rings on their right hands, marked with a stylized "M". At the moment, neither of them carried the air of their position much.

All in all, there were thirty-eight captives (kept sitting), and five naal-wood entrances (connected by patterns on the floor in the shape of a star).

Using her telepathy, Zee cast her mind into the observatory and began to take stock of the situation.

She eyed the dome, honestly more than a little impressed that the greenskins hadn’t shattered the entire thing and consigned everyone in the room to asphyxiation in the void. The orks, she saw, had chosen their insertion point well. No Imperial ship could fire on their craft for fear of breaching the dome and killing the dignitaries trapped inside. Doing so was still potentially an option, albeit one of absolute last resort; were Zee in command, she would only give such an order if all the hostages were either evacuated from the room or dead.

Hopefully it won’t come to that, she thought to herself, continuing her observation.

Her psychic gaze took in the hostages, quickly picking out key figures in the local branches of the ministorum and administratum. She took note of the married couple with their raven hair and signet rings, recognizing them for who they were. And finally, she took in the greenskins themselves.

Her physical body scowled, and her eyes opened.

“They know we’re coming,” she said curtly to her husband. “There are ten Shooter Boyz in the center of the room, and they keep eying the doors. They’ve got their guns trained on the hostages; they’ll probably open fire the second we burst in. They’ve also formed a cordon around Gearhard; he’s working at some sort of logic engine.”

As she spoke, the Living Saint conveyed images of what she’d seen into Arcturus’ mind.

Arcturus frowned at the images the Saint conveyed. An irritated sigh sounded over the retinue vox-link as he considered the angles.

"Frankly, we're going to have trouble doing this conventionally without any dead hostages. The trick we used last time isn't going to work either. We can always storm the place and hope for the best, but that is going to result in deaths I would rather we avoid. Somehow, I don't believe this 'Gearhard' is willing to negotiate, either. Any suggestions? If anybody has some trickery or tactic they'd like to attempt, I'm more than willing to listen, if it draws away those shoota boys."

Milady, if I may?

Please do.

The Shooter Boyz should not prove a difficulty at this point. If we breach the chamber with a clear plan of engagement, we can take them down and attract the ire of the surviving Orkz easily enough. There is, however, a catch.

Any survivors will have a clear shot at the hostages.

Yes, milady. Even with the element of surprise, we will not be able to prevent the officers from reacting. The hostages will be vulnerable in the short timespan before we can engage them fully.

Quite. Well, I can't fault the plan for its elegance and efficiency, but we need to safeguard the hostages somehow.

Zee folded her arms, listening as Arcturus asked for suggestions and furrowing her brow when Remilia and Sakuya pointed out the flaws of their own battle plan. “And my telekinesis isn’t refined enough to protect all of the hostages. I could shield some of them, but…” Her lips pressed together in a thin line, and she shook her head. “Not nearly enough. Not for this many targets; not for this many possible angles of attack.”

The Living Saint cupped her chin thoughtfully, a pensive expression on her face.

“…What if we could distract them?” she said after a long moment. “Catch them off-balance with a threat they can’t afford to ignore?”

She switched to telepathy, just to be safe. +A threat that isn’t actually there?+

Arcturus paced slowly in front of the door, hands tensed around his weapons - body language radiating undisguised frustration.

"Agreed on the storming. It will have to be a powerful distraction, however. A mere psychic suggestion would be shrugged off by orks this number. If we could project a suitable image, however..."

He stopped.

"Then it's feasible." The Inquisitor cocked his head slightly.

He glanced at Zee, inscrutable behind his visor. Sent a thought. We'll need to recover in time for the storming. The next held some small mirth, and a challenge. Are you up to it? I'm up to it.

Zee met her husband’s gaze, and a smile, at once challenging and almost playful, spread across the living saint’s lips. +I’m always up to it, dear,+ she responded in kind.

The living saint unfolded her arms, putting her gauntlets on her hips. Once more she spoke telepathically. +What say you to granting these xenos an audience with some of the Emperor’s finest?+

Her words carried with them a brief image of a hulking figure armoured in ceramite, broad-shouldered and hunchbacked, one arm terminating in an oversized fist while the other carried a twin-barreled storm bolter.

edited 29th Aug '15 4:12:29 PM by SullenFrog

The Inquisitor nodded, pointed absently at the gates. One point of entry, lots of hostiles, one distraction coming right up.

"Remilia, Sakuya, Flandre. You're all up front, I need you to be in there the moment we're ready. Corollianus, take mister Lycetta and Trogg. Bring up the rear, mop up surviving greenskins. Do not hesitate, do not stop, and leave none standing. Zee and I will join you the second we recover. All understood?"

He stopped to examine the faces of the retinue surrounding him. Weary perhaps, but not about to stop. And save for perhaps Trogg, there was no misunderstanding this plan.

"Very good. Let us commence." Arcturus then stood back, and focused his mind's eye on the image Zee had conveyed. Shutting everything else out, he put every effort he could into working with her to fill in the blanks that separated the imagined picture from reality - gave the hulking squad of Terminators a consistent sense of dimension, colouration, insignia, movement, sound, presence. They were not satisfied until they could clearly imagine the deck vibrating with heavy footfalls, hear the soft whine of servos and artificial muscle bundles, sense every groove of pockmarked ceramite, follow every merciless muzzle sweep of the storm bolters with their eyes.

How could they convince unfamiliar minds that this lie was real if they could not believe it themselves, after all?

Next was the trick of conveying this hallucination. Arcturus and Zee were even by themselves powerful psykers, and their talents were enormously potent when working in concert, but projecting this elaborate vision into the tangible, material realm was not within their repertoire. The fine manipulation of light in the material realm required to actually manifest such a thing was a task of such maddeningly minute detail and extensive scope that no remotely sane human mind (or even two) could hope to achieve it.

Simply forcing the sensation into the mind of each Ork iteratively was a much more efficient solution. It would be difficult to predict whether or not all of them would be convinced, but the distraction didn't need everyone to be convinced by it for it to fulfill its intended role.

The shared hallucination was distributed thus - the psykers never stopping at any one mind to interact with it for more time than was needed to suggest the ork was hearing the unsettling hiss-pop of reality being rent asunder for a brief second to accommodate entry for the hunched, power-armoured brutes of the Blood Angels' finest.

When panicked gunfire erupted from the other room, Arcturus' eyes flung open. Hoarse and disoriented from the effort, he commanded the beginning of the assault. "Now! Get in there, NOW!"

The method of attack had been preying on Remilia's mind. Several of her choice Spell Cards had already been spent, and although she was still a vampire powerhouse of boundless and superior destructive power and if anyone asked, she was still fit to fight a full day if necessary...she was beginning to look forward to a break.

However, she had a few tricks up her sleeve yet. It wouldn't be very elegant. But it would have to do.

The moment Arcturus gave the word, the doors were opened. As the Orkz were preoccupied with the illusionary Terminators, Sakuya took advantage of the chaos to start shooting the Orkz watching over the hostages...while Remilia flew up to the roof. In bat form, she quickly made her way as high as she could, and found a foothold to change back and attack.

Devil Sign: Inverse Impalement

One after one, long spikes of dark red magic started forming, almost spearlike if not for the lack of handles. These stakes hovered in the air, gathering magical energy, before plummeting down on the Orkz below with great strength.

From her position up in the roof, the battle became much easier to monitor for Remilia. Had she remained down on the ground, it could have been difficult to avoid hitting the hostages. But from up here, she had clear shots. It was just a matter of making sure the stakes fell straight down, and piereced the Orkz's skulls and bodies as the destructive magic met flesh.

Beads of perspiration trickled down Zee’s brow, her eyes closed in an expression of intense concentration as she and her husband refined and solidified the illusion of the deep-striking Terminators. No effort was spared in crafting the phantasmal Blood Angels, and the living saint’s eyelids fluttered as the two of them worked components for every sense—sight, smell, sound, touch—into the warp and weft of this deception.

Then came the moment of truth, and with every foul alien consciousness her mind brushed against, a deep-seated kernel of revulsion throbbed in the pit of her stomach. Even their very thoughts were rancid and unclean, like brushing one’s hand against a mouldering corpse and feeling the moss carpeting it seethe under one’s palm like a thing alive.

Repulsive, inhuman, subhuman; apt descriptors for the greenskin mentality. She maintained contact just long enough to convey what was needed and not a moment more; even though this plan had been her idea, the thought of touching ork minds even a nanosecond longer than strictly necessary made her want to retch.

Then gunfire rang out, the doors flew open, and the battle was joined.

Jerking as she came back to herself, the angelic vampire took a brief moment to shudder in disgust.

Then she spread her wings and took flight, propelling herself into the chamber. Her bolt pistol swung up, and she took aim down its iron sights. Seeing that Sakuya and Remilia had the shoota boyz covered, Zee chose a different target.

She pulled the trigger, and the bolt pistol kicked once as it spat mass-reactive death at Gearhard.