*Applauds Solanne's sappy, heart-felt speech*
Eisenhorn
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Inquisitor of some Note
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Most Recent Posts
Stukov snorted in amusement, partially to hide his surprise at the plain speak that the psyker offered him. Psyker powers or no, at least she wasn't one of those type that saw themselves as some heralds of a new age of Man, where those without powers were beneath them in some manner beyond a usual command structure. Not that he had noticed so far at any rate. But he digressed as she stood up to leave, to start on whatever scrying, spying, or whatever she was going to do in specific with the warp. He got in a side comment in her direction, in direct response to her own comment on the likelihood of a daemon spawning through her and causing the ship all sorts of grief, to put it mildly. "Daemon's coming out of your ass is even further beyond my jurisdiction than if they were coming out of your head. And I'm not sure the on board medical staff could help with a warphole replacing your asshole, ma'am. So I'll try to not to tell you whether you dare or dare not do or use your job, powers, whatever they are. Just keep the daemons out of your ass, head, whatever other orifices you might see them spawning from, yea?"
The offer of use of the Inquisitor's personal wardrobe was a surprising thought, to the Armsman at least, indeed. He would not even begin to know what would be appropriate wear for a bodyguard in such a position, let alone on some pleasure planet. He would guess, long as he could find something that fit and wasn't some officer or royalty's garb he would work with that. He didn't trust his luck in that regard though, so he might end up having to deal with being dressed up far more than he would have ever imagined possible. The null rod was something he wished existed in his possession far sooner, as its effects were described, although he had not even the foggiest clue as to what or how the thing would be used or operated. "Wouldn't know how to operate a null road even if you gave me one, boss. Probably safer I handle chaos the old fashioned way, blessed buckshot."
As the Inquisitor resumed his brief, Stukov looked over the situation that was presented. Spy that may or may not cooperate, leaving them with either a direction of dubious authenticity, or a complete guess of luck and providence, and having to hide larger weapons. His shotgun probably would need to be concealed, leaving only his pistol for fast access. Not a comforting thought, to put it mildly. But he didn't betray that little bit of discomfort, that kind of a lack of knowledge and blind drop was something he was very much used to. So he had no real other questions, leaning back in the chair and finishing his recaff as he crossed his arms, waiting for the brief to finish now. He did need to change and pack what gear he needed this time, a far different load out than he was used to. That might make things interesting down the line, but it was what it was. One last question did come to mind though, and he asked it with little hesitation. He would not want to be unknowingly hanging with his ass in the air, metaphorically speaking. "Got any backup if things go south in a hurry?"
The offer of use of the Inquisitor's personal wardrobe was a surprising thought, to the Armsman at least, indeed. He would not even begin to know what would be appropriate wear for a bodyguard in such a position, let alone on some pleasure planet. He would guess, long as he could find something that fit and wasn't some officer or royalty's garb he would work with that. He didn't trust his luck in that regard though, so he might end up having to deal with being dressed up far more than he would have ever imagined possible. The null rod was something he wished existed in his possession far sooner, as its effects were described, although he had not even the foggiest clue as to what or how the thing would be used or operated. "Wouldn't know how to operate a null road even if you gave me one, boss. Probably safer I handle chaos the old fashioned way, blessed buckshot."
As the Inquisitor resumed his brief, Stukov looked over the situation that was presented. Spy that may or may not cooperate, leaving them with either a direction of dubious authenticity, or a complete guess of luck and providence, and having to hide larger weapons. His shotgun probably would need to be concealed, leaving only his pistol for fast access. Not a comforting thought, to put it mildly. But he didn't betray that little bit of discomfort, that kind of a lack of knowledge and blind drop was something he was very much used to. So he had no real other questions, leaning back in the chair and finishing his recaff as he crossed his arms, waiting for the brief to finish now. He did need to change and pack what gear he needed this time, a far different load out than he was used to. That might make things interesting down the line, but it was what it was. One last question did come to mind though, and he asked it with little hesitation. He would not want to be unknowingly hanging with his ass in the air, metaphorically speaking. "Got any backup if things go south in a hurry?"
Well, reasonable enough, I'll have a post up tonight then.
Well, I can't yet say whether Stukov is relieved or not about the odds of a daemon out of the head being equivalent to a daemon out the ass. I'll get up a post once the others have had a chance to respond to the Armsman's kind words.
Jerod
Jerod shrugged about the rumor of some Chon'sin group looking to track down Jacob and his Shepards. If they intended to help, great, they could join forces. If not, it would be another slaughter. There really was no middle ground in dealing with this church fanatical group, anyone aligned with them fully intended to murder everyone who stood against them. And that left the rest of the world either standing against them, or bickering amongst themselves. Typical politics at work. But it was a statement worth addressing, and Jerod gave his opinion on the matter while taking another drink from the flask he had been given. "Ach, way ah' see it, tha' C'on'sin group eit'er means 'arm, and get slaug'tered t' th' man. Or t'ey ain' lookin' fer trouble, in w'ich case it get's taken fro' t'ere, savvy?"
Jerod sobered up as he was asked about why Jacob was so special, if he was at all. The Khan gave his opinion on what he saw, and it was valid. Jacob was just a kid way in over his head, and while the prayer comment might be appreciated, Jerod snorted in amusement at it. He had his beliefs, but no god like figures would be in a position to help them, probably. Men made their own miracles and fates, which was what was happening now. These gods and dragons of legend merely made things interesting, for the most part. "T'e champion o' naga? Kid 'as a lot t' learn 'bout 'ow the world works, savvy? An' a world weary drunk like m'self mig't teac' 'im a t'ing or two, eh? Ah didn' do 'alf bad last time I was 'round these parts, ye know tha' much. An' prayers are good an' all, but action mig't git a bit more done."
Niya
Niya sighed, resting the palm of her hand over her eyes. That was not what she meant in the slightest. More words were needed then, and she provided them as such, barely commenting on her partners own little joke. After all, she had thought that the healer was referring to the barbarians, which she was born and raised among so this was nothing new to her at all, and that needed corrected.
"You have the natural advantage of womanhood, for looks at any rate Solanne. And I was not referring to the Feroxians, I know their nature far better than you might think. The Champion of Naga, Jacob, is barely old enough to be beyond being a child and his company is worse. The black mage is psychotic, that damned bastard Jerod is a drunken fool of a mercenary, and the only sane man it seems doesn't appear to have any true command power over any of them. And this is ignoring our addition to the group, before you say anything. These are not the people I expected to be carrying the hopes of the world, it is a grim omen."
It was a lot for Niya to say, compared to her usual attitude and manner of speaking, but if Solanne needed it spelled out, Niya would gladly do so. It was obvious the healer was not happy about Jerod being around, considering her description of him, but beyond that she spoke plainly of her opinion of the group so far. It was not kind, but Niya thought it completely true and confided as such to Solanne, since she had been her companion for some time now.
And I'm working on a post now, I'm on night shift right now, fair warning, so my posts might be a bit more erratic in nature.
Stukov made note of the one who had come in after him, citing a lack of time sense as the key to the reason of his tardiness. Interrogation was above his pay grade, he wasn't kept aboard to try to torture or extract information out of daemons, xenos, heretics, or whatever might come through the next hull breech, or he would run into boarding a hostile vessel. No, that particular skill set did not have a purpose in his line of work. But if it would serve well for the Inquisition and its purposes, Stukov didn't really like the idea of torture, although he would not say so. It wasn't his place to decide ethics and morals in this kind of universe, not after seeing what the Dark Eldar had wrought by their own hands against the innocents many years ago. He could still remember clearly what he had seen that day, so he did realize that torture would not sit well with him then, and now was just another reminder. Not after those dark days years before he ever would have even realized he would be serving on an Inquisitorial vessel, let alone directly under an Inquisitor.
Stukov quietly poured himself a cup of recaff, since it didn't have tanna. Shame, he had gotten his hands on that once and had always hoped to come across it again. Who knows, perhaps this Paradise planet would have some he could appropriate for Inquisitorial purposes. But that was neither here nor there as he drank from the cup, bitter tasting recaff all too familiar as it burned down his throat. Probably should have let it cool off, but no sense trying to regret that sort of thing. But as he drank he took one of the Greensheets, as they were referred to, and read over it while glancing at the holo of the Paradise planet. Well and truly above his pay grade. He didn't even own any attire that wasn't spare combat fatigues, he never had the need for it. Some void gear that was in the emergency lockers, but that wasn't really his, it was just part of the kit one might need to repel boarders. So acquiring new, appropriate attire for the bodyguards of some rich visitor and friends would be necessary. But he hardly got his question in first, as others threw their own two cents in.
Interrogator fellow asked about assets on the ground, name of the island they were going to, and seemed rather unhappy with the idea of going in blind. Dropping into a situation blind was almost part of his job requirement, so it didn't bother him one bit. Going into a compromised part of a ship, friendly or hostile, you couldn't really know what to expect. One lance battery might have heretic gun crews, next cargo deck might have the walls literally lined with daemons waiting to feast. So going into a paradise planet without information was not nearly as disconcerting as others might find it to be. "Can't know everything in advance, Interrogator. Plan for the worse, pray for the best, and expect to enact the worse case plans."
The psyker promptly deflated that little statement with her offer to, what had she said, scry the planet's sphere or some such witchcraft? And a page leaving ripples in the warp made more sense than he would have liked to initially admit. Something powerful would usually rip through Gellar fields anyways, so something resonating in the wrong space that the woman could detect made sense in his mind. Better that than channeling some greater daemon and ripping three fourths of the crew, directly and indirectly, to shreds again. He really didn't need to relive that either. Not with the mission they were being presented with right now. Asking after the age of the guardsmen being taken could match up to a pattern, he supposed. Again, he was no detective nor spymaster, he was an Armsman, give him a tangible threat and he could handle it. This was going to be a learning experience, to say the least. "Forgive the ignorance, psyker, but what would the strain of sweeping an entire planet be like? I don't want to see another daemon come crawling out of your poor head and rip the ship a new ass, most certainly not something I want to see happen again. No offense intended, just a security consideration."
The pop attracted Stukov's attention over to the soldier. Armageddon veteran, if his memory of attire was accurate, he had heard talk about the massive war between Imperials and Orks. Considering the reaction to the word Orks, and his destruction of the glove from the glance he got, probably bionics of some sort. Hell, he had lost the lower half of his leg to daemons, had it replaced with a sturdy yet simple bionic, so that kind of response was more than understandable. He had never dealt with orks, but the stories were grim. His question was right in line with what Stukov had been thinking initially, which was a relief to be sure, so he finally got in his question after having listened to the man finish his question in full. "Along that line of thinking, I don't own anything outside of spare combat fatigues. I won't speak for the others, but if we are going to blend in as visitors and said visitor's bodyguards, we'll need disguises since uniforms are not terribly concealing."
Stukov quietly poured himself a cup of recaff, since it didn't have tanna. Shame, he had gotten his hands on that once and had always hoped to come across it again. Who knows, perhaps this Paradise planet would have some he could appropriate for Inquisitorial purposes. But that was neither here nor there as he drank from the cup, bitter tasting recaff all too familiar as it burned down his throat. Probably should have let it cool off, but no sense trying to regret that sort of thing. But as he drank he took one of the Greensheets, as they were referred to, and read over it while glancing at the holo of the Paradise planet. Well and truly above his pay grade. He didn't even own any attire that wasn't spare combat fatigues, he never had the need for it. Some void gear that was in the emergency lockers, but that wasn't really his, it was just part of the kit one might need to repel boarders. So acquiring new, appropriate attire for the bodyguards of some rich visitor and friends would be necessary. But he hardly got his question in first, as others threw their own two cents in.
Interrogator fellow asked about assets on the ground, name of the island they were going to, and seemed rather unhappy with the idea of going in blind. Dropping into a situation blind was almost part of his job requirement, so it didn't bother him one bit. Going into a compromised part of a ship, friendly or hostile, you couldn't really know what to expect. One lance battery might have heretic gun crews, next cargo deck might have the walls literally lined with daemons waiting to feast. So going into a paradise planet without information was not nearly as disconcerting as others might find it to be. "Can't know everything in advance, Interrogator. Plan for the worse, pray for the best, and expect to enact the worse case plans."
The psyker promptly deflated that little statement with her offer to, what had she said, scry the planet's sphere or some such witchcraft? And a page leaving ripples in the warp made more sense than he would have liked to initially admit. Something powerful would usually rip through Gellar fields anyways, so something resonating in the wrong space that the woman could detect made sense in his mind. Better that than channeling some greater daemon and ripping three fourths of the crew, directly and indirectly, to shreds again. He really didn't need to relive that either. Not with the mission they were being presented with right now. Asking after the age of the guardsmen being taken could match up to a pattern, he supposed. Again, he was no detective nor spymaster, he was an Armsman, give him a tangible threat and he could handle it. This was going to be a learning experience, to say the least. "Forgive the ignorance, psyker, but what would the strain of sweeping an entire planet be like? I don't want to see another daemon come crawling out of your poor head and rip the ship a new ass, most certainly not something I want to see happen again. No offense intended, just a security consideration."
The pop attracted Stukov's attention over to the soldier. Armageddon veteran, if his memory of attire was accurate, he had heard talk about the massive war between Imperials and Orks. Considering the reaction to the word Orks, and his destruction of the glove from the glance he got, probably bionics of some sort. Hell, he had lost the lower half of his leg to daemons, had it replaced with a sturdy yet simple bionic, so that kind of response was more than understandable. He had never dealt with orks, but the stories were grim. His question was right in line with what Stukov had been thinking initially, which was a relief to be sure, so he finally got in his question after having listened to the man finish his question in full. "Along that line of thinking, I don't own anything outside of spare combat fatigues. I won't speak for the others, but if we are going to blend in as visitors and said visitor's bodyguards, we'll need disguises since uniforms are not terribly concealing."
I'll get a post up after I get back from work tonight.
Ask I shall not, @SgtEasy, all you shall have is my condolences on the matter. Burns suck hard.
Heh, indeed @Rithy, and fair warning to everyone, I'm on night shift this week so my posting times might be a bit odd.
Gave em a fair chance, if they haven't said anything, then we can't really hold everything on them indefinitely. In my humble opinion, at any rate.
<Snipped quote by Eisenhorn>
Trying to.
I have just decided that if they dont post by tonight, ill post.
Probably in 10ish hours
Gave em a fair chance, if they haven't said anything, then we can't really hold everything on them indefinitely. In my humble opinion, at any rate.
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