Eisenhorn

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

The nudge got his attention, and Stukov glanced over and barely was able to stop himself from double taking. Apparently going from an armored battle suit, thing, whatever the hell Smiles called her usual attire to formal wear was quite the jarring shift. But officers also liked to traipse around in fancy garb when off duty, so he had experience enough in not double taking or ogling the women folk when they were in fancy formal wear. Especially since the officers wouldn't take kindly to such things and he had heard horror stories of absolute alpha bitches that would have otherwise innocent Armsman and crew executed for not being formal enough around them. Never made sense to him, really, but he was not going to address that little problem here or now. Instead he chuckled at her comment on his attire, and promptly hated the grating mechanical noise it made. Great.

"Your one to talk, Smiles. If my garb is impressive, yours is a show stopper." Unlike Smiles, who had taken to calling him apprentice, Stukov was not going to change his habits that readily. Besides, he called no man or woman his master. Sir, Ma'am, or Boss. Those were the big three, but there was only one being he would ever bend a knee to, and he was orbiting a distant star. But his train of thought digressed, and when offered the wooden case, shaped like a casket, he took it with a cocked eyebrow of curiosity. As she explained its contents, he opened up the casket to look at the blade itself.

Saber, popular among officers, Naval and, from what he was told, cavalry especially, almost always power weapons. Granted, in this case, it was the psyker variant. Her old force blade, eh? Holding the sheath, he flicked his wrist forward, propelling the blade out into his waiting hand and examined the blade. Blue pattern, crystalline of some sort or another, otherwise indistinguishable from a well made sword. He could feel sympathetic resonations from the blade's construction back through him, but it wasn't quite right. Probably since it wasn't built for him, it wouldn't quite match. Then again, hell if he knew how this tech sorcery of a blade worked, so the fact it hadn't blown up in his face was progress enough for him.

Sheathing the blade with a nod of approval, he hooked it onto his belt, above his left hip to promote a cross draw should he need to produce the blade in a fight. Looking over himself, he snorted in disbelief before commenting idly, to no one in particular at first. "Emperor preserve me, I could readily pass for a damned Officer. Minus the pay." Seated in the transport, which he would have preferred been flying to some degree, his arms crossed over the matte black coat he wore, noting the attire of the others as well. Pretty much everyone was better dressed than him, which was how it should be in Stukov's mind. He was a grunt, no need for over fancy attire. Yet here he was, sitting in what would pass for an Officer's attire. He could cover as a Naval attache of sorts, perhaps. That might work, considering what he knew about void work. Glancing at Smiles again, he half closed his eyes and rested his head back against the transport hull. "Alright Smiles, I'm assuming the blade feels slightly off since it wasn't made for me in specific? That, and for having your attire picked out by Sororitas, you'll stand out more so than the rest of us combined."

Endymion: Symphony of Echoes [Sci-FI Squad based Horror-ish w/ Exploration elements] (Always Accepting)

Captain Kurtz had his hands crossed across his chest, helmet secured in place with his face unseen behind the black tinted helmet. Compared to pretty much everyone here, Kurtz's gear was outdated at best and archaic at worst, and the same could be said for the rest of his detachment. The 122nd Rangers had fanned out in teams of ten, supporting and reinforcing operations of the other units, his Sergeants and Corporals actively seeking out and communicating with other forces. They were all wearing their masks, which doubled as life support with attached O2 units, which looked old and outdated next to the GalSen guys, and pretty much everyone else.

Before the Captain could put his opinion in, shots were fired and he turned his head towards them, directing the reserve section of Rangers on over to reinforce the 7th Recon, spread out behind the crouched SMG users and avoiding obstructing the view of the Marksman. The eight regulators had their rifles trained down range as well, while the Corporal and Sergeant focused on keeping an eye out for flanking maneuvers and liaising information back to Kurtz, respectively. The TN-201 members moving out to collect the body for analysis was smart, and the Sergeant had his men focus on covering them specifically instead of general fire, should the need arise.

While the other two sections of Rangers went about patrolling and helping set up, covering gaps and missing necessities as needed, Kurtz turned his attention back to the briefing, noting the one comment about sinking the place. That would have been preferred, but they had their orders. Now he could properly put his opinion in, addressing the small fact of his less than modernly equipped soldiers. "Good points made by all so far, if I may though, suggest that the Power and Life Support systems receive some level of priority? Even with the damage as is, knowing if we can maintain functioning life support in other, uncompromised areas would be useful. Plus, if power is down, getting to any of the other sections might be difficult as well. Barring a better look at that corpse, I'd think we're dealing with bio weapons of some sort or another. Regardless of the who and why of deployment."

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

And I shall have a post up either after that, or later today, depending on work.

Endymion: Symphony of Echoes [Sci-FI Squad based Horror-ish w/ Exploration elements] (Always Accepting)

I will be posting after work today, cant get one up right now.

Stellar Uprising

The announcement got a grunt of discontent from the unhappy looking mechanic sitting in the lounge. The cheap whiskey was not doing much for him, hence the reason it was probably cheap but that didn't mean he had to appreciate that fact. Slamming the last of the bottle that was left, since he wasn't going to leave a mostly empty bottle of whiskey laying about, he was good to go after that.

Church, the mechanic in question, stood up with an angry mutter, cracking his neck while he looked over what he had with him. Usual attire, thick black cloak over his crude form of body armor. It did not look impressive, fancy, or elegant but lead the kind of life he did, and ask him again if he cared about looking good. He didn't, and as he heaved a massive two handed wrench onto his shoulder with one hand, he checked his sawn off shotgun, illegal in so many ways, to ensure it was loaded. Good to go, and his mind turned to the man speaking to him as they both walked out of the lounge.

Malone, kid was at least ten years his junior, if not more, far too kind and peaceful for his liking, and got far too damn melodramatic once drinking. But he could do his job, so that redeeming factor was good enough to be a coworker. That, and he wasn't the captain so he couldn't say who came aboard and who didn't. He did need a response though, so he grunted and shrugged.

"That pisswater drink you think was worth calling Whiskey won't put me out of commission that easy, pup. 'Sides, I work better up close and personal. Aiming isn't a concern then, just putting this fine ol' wrench into some stupid tossers head."

Using his longer legs, he strode ahead of the kid Malone to lead the way. With what sounded like the EMP going off, it was their cue to work. They had slaves to free, and he was looking forward to cracking the skulls of every slaver and collaborater between the Washington and the holding cells.

Stellar Uprising

@TheUnknowable Done and done, just realized I had a good image to use, but oh well.

Stellar Uprising

Name: Gregory Church

Race: Human

Age: 44

Appearance: Towering over most other humans, Church is a massive example of the human male. Long years of hard labor has left him in the best physical shape of his life, even if it left something to be desired in personality. Under his crude looking clothing and cloak, is a towering mass that leaves not one bit of fat, being all muscle and scar tissue. Indeed, his most defining feature is the thick crisscross pattern of scars on his back, limbs, and even a long scar from the top of his left cheek, running down to the bottom of his right cheek. And yet, he has a thick, unkempt mass of raven black hair and a constant stubble that, no matter how long or often he shaves, remains no matter what. So he doesn't bother with messing with it, leaving it as is.

Powerset: Telekinetic Marauder (Telekinesis)
Mental Haymaker (Offensive) - Gathers up all his pent up rage and focuses it in a telekinetic blast, the size of a fist, usually aimed at a single enemy's face. Accompanied by a thrown punch, though this is unnecessary. While more powerful then usual attacks from telekinesis fields of skill, it is far more taxing and less elegant. Granted, this also means it takes raw power instead of clever redirection, typically, in duels of telekinesis since the raw, raging blow cares little for games of sport and is fully meant to smash through defenses instead of slipping around them.

Armor of Disdain (Defensive) - Encases himself in a suit of mental, repulsive, energy formed of his disdain for slavers and those that support them rather than resist. The more powerful his emotions towards a given foe, the more potent the defensive field. Likewise, near useless unless he has some level of disdain and hate for an opponent. Typically works well against most forms of attacks, but can only withstand as many blows as the mind can resist, dependent on willpower, although internal damage is suffered should more than a few blows be stopped, varying with strength granted..

GET OVER THERE! (Utility) - A cruder form of moving objects, the power grasps and launches something in the general direction that is desired. Not advisable for fragile or delicate work, but more than useful for launching larger, heavier objects where they are needed. If in an irate, angry state, the power is more useful, fueled by the irritation and rage fueled desire to just get things where they need to be. In theory useful on individuals, but not intended for such.

Personality: Church is a angry, typically unkind man that seems to care for little more than the next time he can drink. At first impressions he is gruff, xenophobic and blunt, lacking any sort of mannerisms or impressions of a gentle or free upbringing. He is distrustful and distant due to this, in his own words, never trusting anyone who makes more than he does. The more well spoken and gentlemanly someone comes across as, the less he likes them or trusts them, since he fully sees this as a matter of being in one of those families that bowed so readily to the alien slavers that held the reins over hundreds of races so readily. About the only time he seems happy is when there is booze, fighting, or some combination of the two. He throws himself at both with wild abandon, fighting with no concern for his own life and drinking like it was the last day of his life. But he is always tight lipped, never sharing his stories or past without a damn good reason. His hard exterior softens in the presence of other former slaves, even more so with others that fought against their captors as actively as he did, and reveals a troubled man indeed.

Skills: High Aptitude in Mechanical and Electrical applications, Ranged Combat, Brawling, Drinking

Crew position: Mechanic/Electrician, Cracker of Skulls (Joyfully self appointed)

Bio: Unlike many apparent fortunates, Church was born into slavery. He barely spent a few weeks a free baby before his family was taken off to the slave ships. His parents were no criminals but had, apparently, angered the wrong people and had the family, baby and all, trundled up the ramp and sent off to some God forsaken mining planet. His parents were dead with in a week, and his care rotated from surviving slave family to slave family, until he was old enough to take care of himself, barely at five years old.

Church was put to work as soon as he was physically able, working as an aid and running supplies all over the volcanic world's mineshafts and quarries, wherever his work group was shipped off to after their prior work was done. He got whipped and beaten often, by both the Vs'Ks'Thi slavers and other humans who were put into supervisory roles due to good behavior and no remorse for his fellow man. His hate for any slavers and their collaboraters only grew over the long years. He would spend over thirty years a slave, but he did learn a few things while he was a slave.

Firstly, between heavy manual labor, Church learned to work machinery and electronics rather impressivly. This was out of necessity, but he refined it in private, as part of his latest scheme to escape the slavery he was trapped in. His longest running ploy was an illegal communicator that sent vital information that would lead to the planet's eventual liberation. Granted, if it wasn't for his technical skills he would have long since been dead. But his masters sufficed with beating him within an inch of dying, and leaving medically inclined slaves to patch him up. Right before his liberation he stole a warden's shotgun, a hateful human man that enjoyed making his slave wards suffer, and would have gotten two facefulls of buckshot if his 35th birthday had not arrived.

On Church's 35th birthday the liberation came, and a massive number of slaves were freed from the mining world. One of the last off was Church, dragging two near dead men under each arm like they were just cargo, not even breaking a sweat from it. Escaping from slavery and tasting freedom for the first time, he volunteered to operate as part of liberation efforts for other humans. He was often times the muscle for operations, acting as mechanic and electrician when under cover, although he was ill suited for being sneaky or subtle when it came to slavers. But he would find himself on board the Washington, under the employ of a Captain Harris, and all he could do was wait for that chance to go crack some more slaver skulls. And their spineless pets that sold their fellow men into bondage for their own cushy lives.

Equipment: Two Handed Pipe Wrench, Sawed Off Over/Under Shotgun, mechanics tool kit, electricians tool kit, crude ballistic armor, thick all weather cloak, goggles and breathing mask

Stellar Uprising

@TheUnknowable Should we start posting the CS's from the int check over to the character tab now?

Endymion: Symphony of Echoes [Sci-FI Squad based Horror-ish w/ Exploration elements] (Always Accepting)

Checking in for the roll call @GingerBoi123

Stellar Uprising

Thinking hard about agravity power character. Gravity I love it too much

@G3njii

Perhaps its possible to say you've fallen for gravity?