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post #11 of 25 (permalink) Old 11-30-12, 05:50 PM
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Kreshk stirred as the ship began to land. The scents of engine oil and human sweat became apparant as the craft entered the station and the smells and sounds of life aboard the starport became apparant very quickly. Kreshk let a few clicks escape his beak, it had been some time since he had engaged in violence and his rarely-used patience was starting to wear out. If he didn't get into some kind of violence naturally soon he would strike the nearest human that looked like he could last more than a few seconds in battle. Kreshk rose to his full height, easily two heads taller than any of the humans, made sure his rifle was secured on his back and followed Grex as he left the ship and entered the hangar bay. As he did he noticed that the Inquisitor held Demetrius back, he quickly dismissed any thoughts on the matter as pointless.

Aside from the servitor-machines that reeked of machine oil, cauterised flesh and decay, the hangar was devoid of life and of any threats. Kreshk whistled briefly, the sound carrying through the cavernous space in an echo until it gradually faded away. Kreshk scented the air, still the same smells of ship fuel, machine oil and the human Slavek's fear. He noticed the green-robed human approaching the historian and was briefly and mildly surprised to find that he recognized the human who he remembered was called Tervian. He had been a lowly functionary the last time Kreshk had been here and had clearly been promoted. Kreshk laughed, a series of fast clicks, at the human who had made the unwise choice years ago of informing Kreshk that the station would not tolerate his violent behaviour anymore and ordering him to leave. Several broken pieces of furniture and bones quickly changed the human's tone and Kreshk had not been bothered again. He wondered if Tervian remembered him.

"What do you make of them Kreshk?" Kreshk turned to look at what the mercenary Grex was indicating. An Imperial Navy cutter, the edges all cold functionality and brutal sharp lines, was docked in the station with several humans clustered around it. "Former Imperial navy unless I miss my guess. That begs the question, what the fuck are former Navy boys doing this far out and how in the hell did they come into the service of sackless pigs like these damn traders?"

Kreshk scented the air, he smelled addiction and desperation coming from the humans that surrounded the cutter. Likely they were navy who had gotten addicted to the wrong substance, crossed the wrong peopl trying to get more and ended up out here in the waste-end of Imperial space working for the only people who didn't care what substances they put into themselves provided they did the jobs nobody else wanted to do. He said as much to Grex.

"I can smell the narcotics coming off them. Addicts, probably deserters. Here to work for their product rather than steal it from the navy." Kreshk laughed, wondering if the navy deserters would be willing to fight him if he promised them narcotics for winning. Or if he just strode up and struck them. Kresh turned his head to look at the larger of the two shuttles, the scents that came from them were the oldest scents he remembered that were not greenery and Kroot flesh. Blood and death.

"There's either a freshcorpse in that one right now, or there was one a few minutes ago," he explained to Grex, pointing at the larger of the two shuttles. The blood was invigorating and made him want to start violence even more than he had a few seconds ago. Kreshk was on the verge of actually going up to the Navy deserters and attacking them when he saw the ganger and the medic leave the shuttle. He sneered in his thoughts, but duty to the Inquisitor came before snapping necks.

"Looks like we're needed," he said to Grex as he crossed over to the group and stood behind Amber. Kreshk gave the human Tervian a brief nod, snickering at the panic he glimpsed in the functionary's eyes as he saw the Kroot. Either the human did remember him or he had just become afraid of Kroot in general, either was acceptable to Kreshk. The ganger voice intruded on his mental game with the functionary, her request for the meeting to move ahead was fine with the Kroot mercenary. He was already bored here, but there was always the chance that violence would erupt from this meeting as it did so often when working for a human Inquisitor. Kreshk dearly hoped this would prove to be one of those times. - The Kabal of Shattered Souls Project Log - Check out Talk Wargaming for reviews by Lord of the Night.
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post #12 of 25 (permalink) Old 12-04-12, 06:43 PM
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The craft rocked and twisted as Methanor brought it gliding into the hangar, the expanse of the large room beyond visible through the side portals. Selnak couldn't help but sigh as he stood, the creak in his knees and the cracking pop in his back a testament to the length of time he had been sitting at the table. Press-checking his pistols once more, the gleaming silver of shell casings meeting his eyes through the matte black fo the breech, satisfying him that all was in order. His right hand stroked the small of his back, the hilt to his combat blade, secure and readily available over his right hip, a smile ghosting his lips as he relished contact with the weapon. Shrugging his shoulders, he settled his whole rig more comfortably on his body, before heading from the passenger compartment, down the ramp.

He couldn't help but shift uncomforably as he passed by Demetrius, who had been stalled in his tracks by a stern looking Gabrien. As a rule, Grex avoided psykers. He found them unnatural, subject to flaws that could break their spirit at any moment, and that their abilities were far outweighed by the problems of having them around. Of course, Gabrien was skilled in manipulating warp energies, but for some reason Grex's dislike didn't seem to encompass his employer. It was probably the money... Selnak would put up with a lot for the right amount.

He found himself following Kreshk from their craft, the Kroot's entire body almost vibrating with barely restrained energy as he scented the air, small dark eyes snapping from one side of the hanger to the other. Selnak followed the xeno's eyes aroung the room and to his surprise found that it was little different than it had been a decade ago. The space was large, luxurious, especially in comparison to their cramped and dilapidated shuttle. It definitely provided the kind of welcome that a wealthy, if not shady, businessman would expect. He was half surprised there wasn't an army of peons waiting at the foot of the ramp to see to their needs. All the same, as he set foot onto the cold steel of the deck itself, something felt off, made him twitchy. There was no reception. Surely the persona of the Inquistors alias warranted more than an empty hanger deck. Grex narrowed his gaze, taking in their details of their surroundings, forgetting about what was missing, focusing on what was there.

Across the way from their ship, two other shuttles sat in bearth, their crews moving with the languid pace that said their superiors were nowhere close. other than the ships and their crews, the bay was almost empty, none of the detritous that would indicate shipping and trade. Nothing that said this place was used for the purpose that this station advertised.

Leaning back casually against the hull of their shuttle, Grex watched as the historian shuffled forward to greet a functinary of the station that had finally deemed their presence worth dealing with, but it was the other crews that had his attention, that and the feeling of unease that had settled in the base of his spine. He really didn't need Methanor to call these men to his attention, but still he thought he should put voice to his own concerns, perhaps his Kroot friend had seen or smelled something that would give face to the cause for his nervous energy.

Jutting his chin in the direction of the nearest cutter, as his hands habitually found the small flask of Andoran whisky in his vest, the smooth burn of the liquid causing his belly to pur in pleasure, "What do you make of them Kreshk?" He inquired of the Kroot, who slowly turned to face him, his beaked visage pulsing as it tasted the air coming from that direction. Grex had finally placed the familiarity of the crews movements. "Former Imperial Navy unless I miss my guess," he said matter of factly, "but that begs the question, what the fuck are form Navy boys doing this far out and how in the hell did they come into the service of sackless pigs like thes damn traders?"

If the Kroot could have wrinkled his nose he might have, at least that was the impression he got as he watched the alien scent the air. "I can smell the narcotics coming off of them," he said, his beak clacking around the words, adding to the crispness of their delivery, "Addicts. Probably deserters. Here to work for their product rather than steal it from the Navy." That made sense, the visible signs of addiction couldn't be gleaned at this distance, but to the Kroot's sharp nose it must have been plain as day. The beast was useful indeed.

Turning his quilled head to the other ship, Grex saw what was almost hunger in Kreshk's eyes. "There's either a fresh corpse in that one right now, or there was one a few minutes ago," he said with a shake, almost invigorated by the presence of death. Grex had to admit that he was invigorated as well, all that sitting around had threatened a dull mission. With druggies and death already evident before they even got out of the hanger bay, he thought his particular skillset in this endeavor might be needed sooner rather than later.

"Looks like we are needed," Kreshk rasped turning to join the rest of the group. It appeared that Evangaluff had said or done what ever had needed to be said to the functionary that had bustled forth. Methanor grunted, pointing up the ramp, and turning Grex saw that Sara and Amber had descended from the shuttle, an imperious air about them, and he fell into step behind them, filling the role of loyal protector. Something told him, as he walked behind his charges, that he was going to be fulfilling that role in truth in the near future.

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post #13 of 25 (permalink) Old 12-04-12, 09:22 PM
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Stepping from the cockpit, Demetrius kept his face neutral as he made his way to ramp of the ship passing the rest of the team as he did so. Before he could even get down the ramp, a hand shot out and grabbed his upper arm in a vice grip. Time seemed to slow as a voice cut it's way into his mind like a scalpel. Wishing he could pull away from it, he almost began to resist before he realised it was Gabrien and promptly stopped.

-There are those always watching, those strong enough to hide themselves even from you. Never again make the mistake of thinking you can hide a slip Demetrius, it only brings more attention to wandering minds. Your predecessor paid the price for that mistake; he served me for over twenty years before I was forced to put him down. I expect you to not fail in that regard and to be able to outlast him.

The intrusion into his mind was bad enough, but was nothing compared to the image that followed. A man, obviously Gabrien's former astropath, writhing in what at first appears to be extreme pain. Limbs contorting to form inhuman tenticles, the ends flexing and moving almost as if they had a mind on their own. Looking at the man's eyes are what did it for Demetrius, and he emitted a small whimper of fear as he saw the empty sockets filled with black oily orbs that almost seemed to laugh at him, looking as though they hungered for.... something...

Even though it felt like forever, the moment came to an abrupt end, Gabrien seemed to have gotten his point across and let go of Demetrius. Stumbling slightly, a wave of nausea and exhaustion washed over him and he grabbed the side of the loading ramp to steady himself, taking deep breaths until it passed. Although he felt better, the fear at what Gabrien had just subjected him to held him in a vice, and it was all he could do not to curl up in a corner. Breathing deep again he perked up as he heard Gabrien speak his name to Reoul Slavik.

And that is why Meister Evangaluff and Demetrius will be dealing with him, as my proxy. I am sure the dock-master will more than forgive your shuttle being here when he learns that we are expected by master Leeds.” Barnabass purrs before waving over to Slavek. “We will be down in a moment; there is still a private matter my daughters and I must have with the trader.

Nodding his head the anxiety from what just happened receding slightly before his sense of duty, Demetrius strolled down the ramp with Everett moving to intercept a man garbed in the dark green of the Administratum. Looking at the mans robe, Demetrius felt a yearning for his own robes, again finding himself fidgeting with the hem of his flight suit. Before they could get within twelve paces of the man, he spoke to them in a voice tinged with anger and disgust.

“First that degenerate slob has the gall to land his filth here and now the man sends peons to take the blow for him. Tell your master that he has one minute to exit this bay before I have all of you jettisoned with the rest of the garbage.”

Shuddering at the thought of being jettisoned into the dark black void, Demetrius stood slightly behind the historian as he raised his hands in a calm down gesture.

"Please, please my friend and respectful Dock Master of....this station. I apologize on behalf of master Barnabass for the apparent mis-communication. However, he is here on appointment with Natahanial Leeds. I'm afraid some unprecedented events have caused us to be a bit late already."

Sifting through the outer thoughts of the man, mainly to be sure that he wouldn't make good on his threat to have them all jettisoned into space, Demetrius found that the man, Terivian was his name, had no idea of the business between Barnabass and Leeds. He hadn't even known about Barnabass until just now. Seeing all of this, he was ready when the man voiced his question about the nature and details of their appointment.

" Pardon sir, but the details of the appointment between Sir Barnabass and Mr Leeds remains private." He said politely to the man. Truly accepting the answer, which Demetrius knew since he was still reading the mans thoughts, Terivian nodded before saying that he was to take them to Leeds personally. Demetrius almost jumped clear out of his skin as he heard Amber speak from behind him. Wanting to stay at the back of the group, he fell in beside the historian as the rest of the party walked in front of them, promptly ignoring his after you motion.
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post #14 of 25 (permalink) Old 12-05-12, 05:26 PM
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The hangar doors slid open, seemingly after an age, and I coasted the shuttle in to land. Even in that shit tub, the landing was smooth and easy. I powered down the systems, settling the crate gently onto its landing legs. I unstrapped myself and stood, following Demetrius into the passenger bay where the rest of our team stood, along with Slavek and his two bodyguards.

I continued on with nothing more than a nod to Gabrien, before activating the door release that sent the shuttle’s ancient and rusting hatch down with a protesting squeal from the hydraulics. The hangar floor was obscured by the gases rising from the shuttle. I walked down the hatch before turning and leaning against one of the landing legs. I watched the servitors come and plug in fuel lines.

I swept the area with a practiced gaze honed through many long years of service to an Inquisitor. The hangar was almost devoid of life. The only other men in sight were flight crew gathered around the two large shuttles. I scanned the shuttles first. One was a basic transport shuttle, a newer and improved version of the crate I had flown to get us there. The other was heavily armed, an escort for the smaller shuttle it seemed. My eyes traced the shuttles hulls and I noted the symbol painted on. Some kind of fiery bird of prey with a core of orange and wings of bright blue. Clustered about the shuttles were the flight crew. Hard looking men in basic overalls but every inch of them screamed ex-Navy slobs. Men who’d taken money to fly and lost all honour.

My lips curled into a sneer of contempt. I hated men who ended service to the Emperor and the Imperium and worked for personal gain.

“Definitely ex-Navy,” I murmured to myself as Kreshk and Grex spoke of the flight crew. “Deserters is likely, though they don’t look the stupid type. Dishonest yes, disloyal yes. But stupid? I doubt a Rogue Trader would employ people stupid enough to desert the Navy.” But then again, I was naive then. The men probably were deserters, traitors. But then I did not concern myself with them.

I was focussed, after my scanning of the shuttle, on the man even now talking with Everett. I pointed up the ramp and grunted, seeing Sara and Amber descending down the ramp They moved to follow close behind Sara and Amber while I stayed two paces behind them, still warily scanning the hangar.

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post #15 of 25 (permalink) Old 12-05-12, 09:11 PM
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Sitting in the enclosed confines of the drop ship was uncomfortable, especially now that they were set down. She had never liked flying, even years of travelling with Gabrien hadn't managed to accustom her to the strange sensations and views that greeted someone in a spaceship or flyer. At least the landing had finally given her some space from Kreshk, she didn't like the strange alien being, quite acutely in fact. He had made no secret of his attempts to torment her either and to be locked in this enclosed space with him... it, had been almost more than she could bear.

The hangar was larger, but without being able to see the great void of space it reminded her more of the great caverns of the underhive. She felt more at home here than she had, more comfortable. Even so, she took Gabrien's hand with an air of gratefulness, masking the real flush she felt at actual contact with the great man. She took care to control her breathing, calming herself, allowing herself to be the aloof, superior woman she needed to be.

Holding Gabrien's hand delicately, she allowed him to lead her down the ramp, following Sara moving gracefully before them. Amber couldn't help it, but she had to admit the dress made her feel beautiful and powerful in a way she wasn't used to and it almost distracted her from her own role in the deceit. She caught the last of the conversation as they reached the deck of the hangar. “Then let’s stop wasting time and go.”

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post #16 of 25 (permalink) Old 01-26-13, 05:30 PM
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Sara watched as Reoul Slavek started to rise from his chair when the craft finally settled down in the hanger and the ships ramp opened up to the confined space of the craft that they had landed in, before being pushed back down by one of the two men that had sat either side of him. She was glad that they had landed safely, hating being confined to the small crafts especially one that looked like it was held together by virtually nothing. The trader started to speak to the Inquisitor, trying to get out of the craft as quickly as possible and talk to the “keeper” of the station. She wasn’t sure whether he was trying to help or hinder, and was glad that the Inquisitor had stopped him.

“And that is why Meister Evangaluff and Demetrius will be dealing with him, as my proxy. I am sure the dock-master will more than forgive your shuttle being here when he learns that we are expected by master Leeds.” Barnabass purrs before waving over to Slavek. “We will be down in a moment; there is still a private matter my daughters and I must have with the trader.”

He waited for the others to leave, meaning that it was Amber, Sara, the Inquistor and a few of the men left on board with the trader, whilst the others made it look like they were either guards for the entourage, or try and placate the “keeper” once more. “Do not think you can fool me meister Slavek; we were more than able to facilitate your capture, do not think I or my people so easy to fool. Do not worry, things are nearly concluded, you will be released before too long. Should you try anything until then though, know that I am more than capable of snuffing out your life with but a word.”

Sara stayed silent as the Inquisitor threatened the Rogue trader, hovering with Amber near the ramp. When he was done he extended an arm to Amber and motioned for Sara to lead the way down the ramp. Sara stepped confidently onto the ramp and led the second party down, waiting at the bottom of it to take the other side of the Inquisitor though he didn’t extend an arm to her to hold.

Sara noted the size of the hanger when the group moved towards the Dock Master and Everette and Demetrius, a rather large hanger for a private dock she thought. Nevertheless she didn’t allow her emotions or thoughts to betray anything, keeping a neutral experession on her face she stepped forward in time with the others and they made their way over, catching the end of the convosation where the Dock Master said he was to take them to Leeds, the man they were here to meet. Amber quickly cut in to get moving and the group moved off, the girls and the Inquisitor at the front. Sara couldn’t help to feel a little unease at the mission, much preferring to have her armour or her medicae robes on and not to pretend she was something that she wasn’t. However the Inquisitor needed her to act, and as such she would do.

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post #17 of 25 (permalink) Old 01-29-13, 11:31 PM Thread Starter
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All; For the briefest moment, dock master Terivan’s face betrays irritation at Amber’s dismissive tone; but a look at Kreshk and Grex is enough to keep the man silent beyond some mutterings. As everyone is directed towards a lift terminal, Sara inquires about the hangar itself, why the lack of other ships or personnel. Terivan answers this with a smile that it was a request from Nathaniel Leeds so that whatever business he had to do would not be disturbed. The lift itself is very well designed, a marble floor holding up walls of fine wood and inlaid pearl, and you barely even notice the upwards motion.

Walking from the lift you come out to an expansive galleria, high arches quite literally reaching to the distant stars; there being no roof, simply a void shield offering an awe inspiring view of two of the systems nearby suns. For all the galleria’s splendor, multi-leveled terraces and exotic fauna, a great fountain statue designed in the likeness of the primarch Roboute Guilliman kneeling to someone or something unseen, despite these things you quickly notice a distinct lack of other people. There are what appear to be servants and attendants, but beyond your group no one else.

Everette brings this up with Terivan, whose response again is that it was a request from Leeds in order for his business to remain private. A grunt of irritation escapes the lips of Barnabass as he calls a halt to the group. Master Leeds, enough with this show of influence. If you and I are to do business then show yourself or we shall be on our way.” The trade Barons calls out into the air, drawing the attention of many of the attendants and draining the colour from Terivans features. There is a chuckle and then the clapping of gloved hands, hands attached to the arms of a man who had been waiting in the shadows of an arch.

Nathaniel Leeds is most easily described as handsome; a well-built olive skinned frame clothed in material that would leave many in the Imperial court speechless. And then there is his voice, smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of authority. “My apologies Baron Barnabass, I simply wished to see your reaction in order to best understand the man I would be brokering a deal with. Thank you Terivan, your services are no longer required.” He said with a look that made things perfectly clear who was in control here.

“Please my lord, let us sit and discuss.” Leeds says, gesturing towards one of the terraces. “No good sir, standing suits me just fine.” Barnabass returns with a wry smile.

“Very well then, might I inquire how you learned of my troubles then?”

“Indeed you may, though I suspect you are the kind of man smart enough to have figured it out from seeing my party. The details of your troubles were given to me by master Slavek here, in exchange for me sparing his life. He attempted to cheat me, you see, and that is something I could not have.” Barnabass waves a hand in the sprint traders direction, who attempts to cut in but is sent to the ground when Grex delivers his fist into the man’s gut. The look on Leeds face indicates that this is indeed the conclusion he had come to, but Barnabass’s next words rob him of that confidence.

“That, however, is nothing more than a work of fiction I am afraid; I simply wished to see how Slavek would react. The truth about how I know of your troubles is because I am the cause of them.”

The rogue traders reaction is nearly instantaneous, with a snarl the man tears a gold inlaid bolt pistol from a holster at his side, snapping the fingers of his free hand. Nearly fifty of the gathered staff reveal autoguns or shotguns. “You? You have been the power behind all this! Give me one reason to not blow your head off!”

“Because if you do, then my people will not stop until everything having to do with you is dead or destroyed. Do you truly believe I would simply back you into a corner and present myself to you without holding all of the cards? Your threat has little power, and I can just as easily turn my attention elsewhere to ensure my empire is secure for my daughters when I do eventually pass on from this life.”

With an angry sigh, Leeds lowers his pistol and motioning for the gathered mercenaries to stand down. “If that is the case, then I have no doubt you are at least somewhat aware of the items I have access to and wish access to them? What is it you are proposing?”

“My influence stretches across more than a dozen sectors, you will be granted majority selling rights to all worlds; that means oversights and questions not being asked. For this, all I require from you is a modest cut from your profits, consider it an ongoing finder’s fee; though before we agree to anything I would be remiss if I was not shown a sample of what you have to offer.”

Leeds pretends to stroke his chin, as if thinking, but you can tell he is actually speaking into a micro-vox. “I can most definitely comply with such a request if it grants me the trading rights you assure.” The rogue trader says while a container is brought out and set before you all.

Kreshk steps to the container, examining the contents and taking out what appears to be a rifle. However the handle looks wrong, as if it is designed for a hand with too few fingers. The kroot confirms that the weapon and the other items are of Tau origin, except for one knife which is clearly kroot.

“Good than it ple-“ Barnabass begins to say only for the rogue trader to cut him off.

“Who are you? And no more lies this time!” He says, bringing the pistol up once again. “There is an Imperial warship nearing this station, a ship which is closing in unchallenged.”

That can’t possibly be right, the only ship like that would have to be the Endless Absolution and her crew would not jeopardize an operation like this.

“Well this is most troubling indeed. Time for this charade to be dropped then; I did not lie to you when I claimed to be the source of your troubles. However Nathaniel Leeds, I am no trade baron and my name is not Goliath Barnabass. It is actually Iresmis Gabrien of the Emperor’s mostly holy inquisition and you are found guilty of violating His edicts in trading in forbidden xenos technology. For this crime, the warrant of trade granted to your bloodline is forfeit and you are to come with me for judgment.”

“Also, I thank you for arranging this meeting Reoul but your use to the Inquisition is at an end.” Gabrien says, producing a shurican pistol from the folds of his sleeve and putting a shuriken into the head of Slavek.

“You are welcome to try inquisitor, but like you said I am backed into a corner and you appear to be outgunned nearly six to one.” Leeds points out with a sneer. “You will not leave this station alive, or this galleria for that matter. I on the other hand have other business to attend to.” He says before activating something on his arm, vanishing with a bang of displaced air.

You barely notice this however, as Leeds made his escape, his mercanaries open fire and force you to run for cover.

Grex, Demetrius, and Methanor diver for the nearest cover before firing back at the rogue traders mercenaries; the bounty hunter quickly putting a round in one mercenaries head and throwing another to the ground with a shot to his shoulder. A round imbeds itself in Grex’s arm, but his armour stopped the bulk of its kinetic force and he shrugs it off.

Kreshk takes his fight to the enemy, dodging shots with inhuman speed and delivering an axe-like blow to the head of a mercenary with his rifle.

Everette, Amber, and Sara all find themselves stuck out in the open when the bullets start flying; rounds stopping a mere meter before the group. Gabrien orders the three to move, straining to maintain the kine shield he had erected around everyone. An autogun round manages to get through the shield, taking the inquisitor in the knee and sending him to the ground with a cry of pain.

[Kreshk, though your body has been enhanced by years of fighting (making it capable of absorbing some of the las and solid rounds coming at you) it is not impervious to close range shotgun rounds so take care. You find yourself in the midst of four mercenaries and will be more than able to take out two or three of them.

Grex, Methanor, and Demetrius, you are being shot at by what feels like half the assembled mercenaries. Normally you would be able to boast better training than your enemy, but these mercenaries are definitely ex-guard by the way they move and overlap fire. Grex is able to silence four mercenaries before a gut shot knocks him off his feet. Demetrius and Methanor will be able to account for another seven between them.

With Gabrien down, there is no more shield though you are close enough to use the fountain-statue for cover. Sara is faced with the choice of either treating Gabrien or putting bolt rounds in the mercenaries; should treating the inquisitor be chosen, giving Amber the pistol is an option. Should Sara choose to fight, then helping Gabrien will fall to the ex-ganger. Depending on the choice made, Sara will be able to kill four mercenaries while Amber only two; and if she uses the bolt pistol, the first shot will buck hard enough to snap it back into her cheek for a nasty bruise.

Everette, with no weapons training you find yourself in anything but your comfort zone when bullets start flying and people start dying. Instead, you just try to stay out of the way, though Gabrien’s hand grabbing your foot before thrusting his pistol in your chest is enough to get a quick point across. The alien weapon is..alien, on top of being a gun which is not your forte. Unlike everyone else, you only manage to wing a few people, though it does look like one took a shuriken to the neck if that spray of blood is an indicator of anything.]

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post #18 of 25 (permalink) Old 01-31-13, 09:22 AM
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If Kreshk had possessed the correct anatomy to smirk at the dock master's sudden silence after a glance at him and the bounty hunter, he would have done so. Fear like that was not something you could earn from a human by just being an alien to them, you had to earn it through violence and Kreshk had more than earned the many glances of fear he had received from humans throughout his career as a mercenary. The group continued to discuss things that did not involve bones breaking and as such Kreshk ignored them, merely following and narrowing his eyes whenever the dock master or any of the guards glanced his way. Before long he began clacking his beak, the whistling sounds familiar to him as a sign of his growing boredom. He briefly fantasised about snapping the dock master's neck like a Tau's, it would be immensely satisfying but it would cost him the Inquisitor's goodwill and above all, Kreshk fulfilled his contracts. A mercenary who did not would soon find himself dead or out of business, and for Kreshk those two were one and the same.

Before long Kreshk found himself standing behind the group as they met with the Rogue Trader on the terrace. The Kroot found the entire room to be uncomfortable, nature transplanted into metal like this felt unnatural to his innate Kroot senses. The statue of Roboute Guilliman too did not impress, humans were always going on about these Primarchs and how impressive they had been. Kreshk had seen Space Marines before and had killed them, albeit not easily and not alone, but they were definitely not the gods that humanity proclaimed them to be and it stood to reason that these Primarchs were not either. Shaking his head and gnashing his beak Kreshk turned back to the meeting and found his eyes drawn to the crate that was being brought out. Without waiting for a go-ahead he stepped forward, aware of the group's eyes on him, and opened the crate. Inside was a Tau Pulse Rifle, of fairly solid make for what those cultists called weaponry, some unexploded Pulse Grenades that looked like they would still work, a Fire Warrior's helmet with some bullet holes in it, the sight of which made Kreshk click a few times in amusement, and a handful of Kroot knives that had some dried red blood on them.

"Tau, definitely Tau. Pulse Rifle, fairly recently made too. Some grenades, a helmet from one of their Fire Caste, can't tell which sept though, and some knives from one the Kroot spheres. All good condition."

Before he could turn Kreshk scented adrenaline release from several of the humans, he turned his gaze and saw the Rogue Trader holding a pistol towards the Inquisitor. The Kroot's heart began to beat faster and his vision began to wash in red as it always did when he detected the prospect of violence so close and so easy to spark. He clacked quietly as the Inquisitor dropped the ruse and declared the smuggler under arrest. The scent of blood forced his vision into pure crimson, everything taking on different shades of red as the Inquisitor shot the wretch with his Eldar weapon. Kreshk slowly put his hand to the back of his rifle, he would be able to unsling it in an instant and be among the prey before they even realised he was killing them.

Kreshk was so caught up in the imminent violence that he did not notice the Rogue Trader disappear in a puff of smoke, nor would he have cared. As soon as the mercenaries opened fire Kreshk squawked as loud as he could, the sound briefly overwhelming the gunfire and carrying across the entire chamber, a few of the mercenaries hesitated to fire as they realised what was facing them. Tensing himself Kreshk leapt foward, easily clearing the gap between himself and a group of four soldiers. Their hesitation cost them their lives. The first one he landed on as he leapt, forcing the soldier to the ground, and driving the blade of his Kroot rifle into his head with an overhead axe-blow. The blood and brain matter splattered over the floor and over Kreshk's arms, only furthering his rage. Ripping the rifle free he swung it at the legs of a second mercenary, taking his legs off below the knees and forcing him to the ground. Another overhead blow silenced his pitiful cries forever. A third attempted to fire his short range weapon, a slug-thrower, but before he could aim properly Kreshk grabbed the dead second mercenary and held the scum like a shield. The shot took the mercenary in the chest, drenching Kreshk in even more blood, and giving Kreshk the time to aim his rifle and blast the shooter point-blank in the face. The Kroot Rifle's upgraded pulse blast melted his head into a ragged, cauterized stump. Kreshk howled savagely as he turned to find the last of the group.

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post #19 of 25 (permalink) Old 02-21-13, 01:37 PM
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She felt it coming before it happened, and was beginning to move before the guns even came up. Then the air around her was torn into a hurricaine of metal and spinning pain. A fraction of a second later it was deathly peaceful, the gunfire still echoing through the huge space but the bullets and lasblasts impacting on a shimmering surface a few feet around them. It rippled with each impact and Amber turned to see the strain on Gabrien's face.

She turned to look out at the Chaos around them, seeing Kreshk cannon into the mercenaries, slaying three soldiers almost before she could take it in. They were attempting to move out of the deadly crossfire, but with the Inquisitor it was slow going. The illusion of peace shattered.

An autogun round, travelling at two thousand feet per second, passed through the shield and caught Gabrien in the knee, there was a spray of thick, glutinous blood and the shield dropped instantly, a bullet whipping past Amber's eye close enough for her to feel the scorching heat of it's passage. The inquisitor had gone down with a cry and she dived down beside him, sheltering behind the thickly decorated fountain that was steadily shaking and crumbling under the barrage of gunfire.

There was still blood pouring from the wound and she pressed her hands to it, tearing the bottom section of her dress off, not even blinking at her casual desecration of the expensive fabric. It was too awkward to fight in anyway.

She wound the makeshift tightly around the wound, staunching the flow of blood, at least for the moment...

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post #20 of 25 (permalink) Old 02-22-13, 12:31 PM
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It all went to hell so quickly. Caught out in the open it was most likely that Everette, Amber, Gabrien and Sara would be mowed down by the fire from the mercenary's that had the advantage over the group, number wise as well as being in better cover than the group. However Gabrien was powerful, and the first bullets stopped a mere meter from the group, Sara under no illusions of what had happened. She almost breathed a sigh of relief, quietly thanking the Emperor.

The group moved as Gabrien tried to keep the kinetic shield up as they moved towards cover, giving them a chance to get into cover. That was until the Inquisitor was hit in the leg by a stray autogun round, which had managed to get through the shield. A cry of pain escaped Gabrien, Sara noting Amber reacting quickly by ripping part of her dress to stop the flow of blood as the group took cover behind a fountain.

Sara had a tough decision ahead, Amber had no medical treatment, but as long as she kept the bloodflow under control then Sara will be able to use the bolt pistol she had to take out some of the mercenaries. However, Sara was worried by the Inquisitor, and the loss of blood could be a potential problem. She ducked into cover by Amber, "Amber, take my gun, I'll treat the Inquisitor." She handed over her pistol before bringing up her narthecanium as she prepared to treat the Inquisitor. "My Lord, I'll get you patched up as soon as possible, though this may hurt more as I work on you." She warned the Inquisitor before getting to work.

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