[@Necroes][@BCTheEntity][@Wraithblade6][@Klomster][@Sophrus][@agentmanatee]


The only response that Lucius received from the Emperor's Child was a robotised chuckle via his mouth-grill coupled with a singular finger bought up to where his lips may well have been. They [b]were[/b] all stood here in pretty much pitch black, and the questions of the incognito Astartes were as valid as any other, so he intended to answer them all in one swift go...the sooner they got out of here the better.

“Observe,” he half-spoke and half-commanded, moving quickly to an alcove and away from the sight of the others for just a moment, followed by a sharp hissing sound and a sturdy [i]hum[/i] that spread quickly, like the awakening of a thousand insects but with a distinct note of technology rather than biology.

All around them the chamber came to life - lumostrip lights almost blinding in there intensity flashing into activation mode, the containers taking on less of an eerie quality as they were lit from all angles, and the true extent of the room they had so hurriedly made their way into becoming rather apparent as Vedius reappeared and gestured about him with one large hand.

What he was gesturing to was a square chamber that looked more like an apothecaries lab, a huge space with a high ceiling, and walls and a mesh floor of glistening metal. All around was technology, all of it pristine and free of rust or even dust particles, 'sterile' would have been the perfect word for it, that came straight from the era of the Great Crusade and seemed to be working just as well as it would some ten-thousand years in the past. All of this would no doubt titillate members of the modern Mechanicus, indeed any connoisseur of near-forgotten tech.

At the farthest end of the chamber, directly opposite the door, was a section that could only be correctly described as a 'command deck' – a huge viewing screen present in front of flashing navigation and sensor consoles and a command throne, flanked on either side by windows of stained glass depicting the Emperor and Fulgrim together, the entire area on standby. 

Going down the left-hand side of the room were multiple tables, the size of an Astartes but easily capable of holding down a normal human, tables and the trays of instruments beside them showing that this space was more than just a lab, it was also a torture chamber and morgue  for the deceased.

On the right-hand side was everything that one may need for their survival, such as spare parts of power armour and inactive weapons placed carefully on racks, auspexes and Heresy-era jump packs, as well as rations for any human members of the crew that may have been important enough to make their way here.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, were the containers themselves; as tall as any unaugmented human and still glowing with a life all there own. If one were to take a closer look, a much closer look, then they may be able to pick out the shapes of seemingly amber stones, each one throbbing with a life of its own, hundreds of them, restrained by an anti-psychic liquid created by a mad Apothecary of the Emperor's Children for this singular purpose.

“I am Decurion Vedius of the Emperor's Children, Palatine Blade and apparently an Astartes out of time,” there came another chuckle as he spoke “welcome everyone to the [i]Falcon[/i], the smaller cousin of the [i]Aquila[/i] – that is the vessel upon which we were all nearly massacred – and I hope our means of escaping from this Hell.”

With a hiss of latch-release and a grunt as he pulled the crested helmet from his head, the handsome features of a son of Fulgrim were revealed, pale skinned and blue eyed, his hair as white as that of his Primarch and his mouth set in a grim line across his face.

“Those,” he said, pointing to sigils clearly burnt into the metal of the walls around them, “are markings embedded there to make all psychic abilities within this room null and void.” Slowly he moved his finger to point at one of the tubes, “when our Primarch was betrayed by Eldrad Ulthran of Ulthwé, I and my comrades were despatched to take vengeance upon the aliens, and here is the result – several hundred of their so-called 'spirit stones', each containing the soul of an Eldar within them. They are articles of great value, psychically charged, and the Word Bearers wanted them for their own.”

Until now he had been looking primarily at the tubes or the floor, now he lifted his head and stared directly at Lucius, his fingers twitching slightly as his side as he took in the entire group of them – the whole sordid little band.

“Now, if I might ask, who are [b]you[/b]? Who are you all?”

Probably better not to kill them, he needed bodies to fly this craft – if they even could – and there would surely be time for such things later.

“Can any of you pilot a ship?”