Rogue Trader - The Passage

[Garrius Amphael]

Garrius watched the two squads skulk off into the dark corridors leading away into the side passages. He waited a moment, passing a silent prayer to the Emperor, before stepping forth towards the edge of the corner he and his men used for cover.

"Wych! Show yourself! An Amphael wishes to speak with you. A parlay if you will."

He waited, listening for any sort of reply from the barricades down the hall.

[Montresor]

Tense moments of silence answer Garrius. First squad find whatever cover they can near the Rogue Trader, while Brother Clabo and Praetus peer into the smoky darkness.

A man's voice calls from behind the barricades. Something in it sounds strained and fearful. 'What trick is this? You have plunged us into this torment so you could destroy the hopes of the Ascended. Come any closer and we'll sear the untruth from your soul!'

[Andrea Chan-Gauthier]

'Ahh, umm, I see. Well. He has a navigator's seal, madam. He told us that it was official business. Vital to the Rogue Trader and to the navigators. Oh . . . and he's a midshipman, madam'.

Thule nods at Ursus's reply. He manages to reply, in a tired, subdued whisper: 'He has followed all the usual protocols, and has the seal of proof. I am suspicious, but there was nothing I could do to stop him, under the current circumstances'.

Andrea looks up at midshipman Trone, who studies an immense tome almost as thick and large as his own chest. Although Trone is evidently very strong, he struggles to right its weight a little, before continuing to leaf through the codex. It appears he has found what he was looking for.

[What book is he looking through? Enhanced vision from cyber-eyes, if necessary.]

Andrea turns to the archivist. In a low voice, "Where are my weapons, Ursus? Perhaps I'm just overreacting to the stress of nearly dying, or the injuries, or the storm, but I think I would like to prevent this from happening just now. Go and fetch my pistol, if you please. And try to be subtle about it, if you can."

Moving as quietly as she could with an injured ankle, Andrea goes over to one of the junior scribes sorting through the fallen detrius of the Librarium. "You there, Scribe Lowis. A word, if you please?"

The young man glanced up at her, put down the books he was carrying, and strolled over. Keeping his eyes lowered, he asked "Yes, madam. How may I be of service?"

Andrea leaned in closer to him, so as to lower her voice a bit. "I would very much appreciate it if you could, very quickly now, make your way to the bridge." At the scribe's look of concern, before he can object, "Yes, I know it's unorthodox, but the vox are down and this is important. I do not trust the look of that... midshipman, is it?... looking through our restricted books. He seems to have all the proper credentials, and yet I'm not satisfied. He claims to be on business for the Navigators, though I was just now on the bridge and saw nothing there to make me think there was any urgent need on the part of the Navigators for anything other than... well, they didn't seem to urgently need anything that could be in a book, let's just say that."

The scribe's eyes start to look worried, and Andrea cut him off again, "Anyway, go to the bridge and ask the navigator or one of his assistants if this is a real request from them. Once you have an answer, hurry back and let me know, so we can release this young man quickly. Else, we will turn this Librarium into a very literate prison for midshipmen."

Andrea laughed at her own joke. "Yes, now I know I'm succumbing to the stress, because that was most certainly lacking in anything resembling humor. So, run along, Lowis."

Andrea turns to look for Ursus, hoping she's found the pistol.

[Garrius Amphael]

Tense moments of silence answer Garrius. First squad find whatever cover they can near the Rogue Trader, while Brother Clabo and Praetus peer into the smoky darkness.

A man's voice calls from behind the barricades. Something in it sounds strained and fearful. 'What trick is this? You have plunged us into this torment so you could destroy the hopes of the Ascended. Come any closer and we'll sear the untruth from your soul!'

Quietly, Garrius unholstered his plasma pistol, and thumbed the safety switch off on the ancient weapon.

"Untruth in my soul? Let it be known in the soul of Garrius Amphael, there is only the Emperor, for he is our shield and protector. As for hope, a heretic can only hope for a fast and painless end, for nothing can hide from The Wrath Of The Emperor. Now enough barbaric shouting. Allow your leader to show them self, so that we may negotiate the terms of your surrender."

[Montresor]

[Five degree fail on a scrutiny check for Andrea to perceive the nature of the book the midshipman is reading]

While Andrea issues her other commands and queries, Ursus returns with a long wheeled-tray, covered by a single white sheet. She sidles next to Andrea and gently taps her on her arm. Ursus is a little nervous, unused to having anything to do with worlds of violence. 'Your weapons are beneath the sheet, madam'.

By this stage, Scribe Lowis has left the librarium. Midshipman Trone watches him leave without any trace of suspicion. His mission under his arm, Trone descends the stairs to the main floor. Once below, he skirts the piles of books and approaches Thule, handing him the set of keys to the various cabinets. The book is held in such a way that the title is obscured, though it looks to be written in High Gothic.

'Thank you for the keys. The Lord-Captain will appreciate it'.

[Unless Andrea stops him, Trone will simply leave the librarium. Trone's arms are full with holding the book, and only a single las-pistol lies at his side. He does not appear to be nervous at all. Closer up, Andrea can tell that the midshipman is clearly a very strong man]

[Montresor]

"Untruth in my soul? Let it be known in the soul of Garrius Amphael, there is only the Emperor, for he is our shield and protector. As for hope, a heretic can only hope for a fast and painless end, for nothing can hide from The Wrath Of The Emperor. Now enough barbaric shouting. Allow your leader to show them self, so that we may negotiate the terms of your surrender."

As Garrius talks, Praetus waits, and Drak-Kung advances stealthily through storage rooms, both the Senior Navigator and the Master at Arms start to feel an unrush of nausea and a rising feeling of heat in their skulls. Drak-Kung notes that some of second squad begin to look like the colour is draining from their face.

The voice from the corridor calls back, in the same strained voice. Praetus has the distinct impression that Garrius is not the one doing the distracting. 'The Emperor is a lie! A tyrannical sect which feeds off the Psykic potential of Mankind! Those who do the Emperor's bidding unknowingly pervert Man's growth and stop the paths to Ascencion! You will not see Myrkyris!'

The pulsing beat through the walls and floors becomes stronger.

[Lt. Commander Zarkov]

'I will fight you anywhere and at any time you so desire, Darius Zarkov'. His eyes fix coldly on the Lieutenant Commander.

Sub-lieutenant Etradorn steps forward, as if trying to place herself upon the glove of challenge. 'I must protest that this breaks all protocol and regulations, sir, and I will have to report this to the Lord-Captain -' Her speech is cut off by a series of hisses from a half-dozen midshipmen. Lieutenant Vehle can be seen shaking her head in disgust at the scene.

"What better time than now?" Zarkov intoned. "Warrant Officer Sturshyi, you are my second. Tyor, you have the bridge." Sturshyi rose slowly and walked to the Lt. Commander's side.

"The secondary dining hall," Zarkov barked, his eyes fixed on Eyre. "the choice of weapons is yours."

Eyre sneered, drew his sword and stalked to the dining hall. Sub-lieutenant Alistair Peraton; Eyre's right-hand man, had been lying in wait just outside the bridge. He followed Eyre silently.

The dining room was reorganized, giving a clear space in which to conduct the duel. Zarkov removed his flak jacket and folded up the sleeves of his uniform. The seconds checked both weapons and verified that neither combatant was wearing hidden armour. No other crewmen where allowed into the room as the duel began.

Eyre smiled brutally, pacing the room with his mono-sword. "I have been waiting for this for far too long. I will grant you the satisfaction you deserve Zarkov, the satisfaction of the grave!"

Before Zarkov could reply, Eyre was upon him, his mono-sword cutting swathes through the air. Eyre was an expert swordsman well trained in the art of the duel, but Zarkov managed to avoid his thrusts and countered with his own. The fury of Eyre's assault took him by surprise however, and he was forced on the defensive. Bracing himself on his cybernetic leg, he held his ground. Swing after brutal swing was parried as Eyre continued his relentless attack, the two men grunting and straining with the force of the blows. The dining room resounded with the clang of steel against steel.

Seeing Zarkov's defensive tactic, Eyre skillfully maneuvered himself to counter it, slicing up and around Zarkov's parry. The mono-sword caught the First Officer in his side, biting into flesh. Cold, sharp pain coursed through Zarkov's body. Wincing, he pushed Eyre back with his offhand and resumed his defensive position. The Colonel, sensing victory, came at Zarkov with everything.

The bloodthirsty look in Sallustis' eyes betrayed his intentions. Zarkov shifted his weight and parried the blow. Overbalancing, Eyre stumbled badly and Darius stabbed the blade into his stomach. Blood spattered onto the dining room floor as Eyre staggered in pain, almost dropping to one knee. Zarkov kept his distance, circling him. "You are defeated, Sallustis. Satisfaction is mine."

Eyre laughed; a hollow, disembodied sound. "To the death, Darius."

"TO THE DEATH!!!"

Eyre's assault began again with renewed ferocity, again finding gaps in Zarkov's defences. The colonel was the superior swordsman, Zarkov knew, and even with his grievous stomach wound was more than capable. He dodged and weaved around Zarkov's seeking blade like a dancer to some macabre fugue.

There was a flash of grey, and Zarkov felt blood begin to pool in his sleeve; a slash to his arm not parried fast enough. The loss of blood was beginning to make his head spin, but he fought it off, biting his tongue. He was slashing wildly but not gaining any advantage, while the cunning Eyre was holding back; dancing just past the tip of Zarkov's blade.

Then suddenly, he struck. It was so fast that the colonel seemed to Zarkov to blur, brushing aside his sword-arm and stabbing into his chest. The blade passed just under the collar bone and lodged in the shoulder blade. Inhaling sharply, Zarkov's vision blurred, and he brought his sword arm back across in a reflexive movement. The victorious Eyre, so intent on finishing off his victim, failed to dodge the swing. The mono-molecular blade neatly sliced the front of Eyre's neck open from ear to ear. A look of indignant surprise momentarily crossed his features as crimson blood gushed down the front of his uniform. Gurgling a final insult, he died standing.

Zarkov moved aside, allowing the now inert body that was once Colonel Sallustis Eyre; decorated hero of the Imperium, to fall to the floor. He knelt, reaching for the pommel of the embedded monosword, and gritting his teeth pulled it from his shoulder. Blood flowed freely from under his uniform and cold sweat once more soaked his body. He was close to collapse. Sturshyi, silent and respectful, but clearly not expecting this brutal end, helped his commanding officer shakily to his feet. Zarkov's old nemesis lay in a widening pool of blood. The duel was emphatically over.

[Drak-Kung]

Waiting the last few seconds before 1st squad will open fire, I take the time to reassure my squad. "Those sick feelings...that is the Warp, the wych is using it, trying to twist your mind. You feel sick, because it is a great wrong. Hold fast to this: we walk in the Emperor's light. The Dark servants of the Void cannot take your soul unless you weaken and let them in.This mob of soulless fanatics will know the Emperors light,but it will be the last thing they see as we end their abominable existence. To forsake the Emperor is to abandon humanity....to walk the path of the Xeno. Suffer not the Alien. " I wait now, hearing 1st squad open fire. waiting...waiting... fifteen seconds...twenty......thirty..."Open fire!". After thirty seconds, 3rd squad opens fire.....when we can see the smoke grenades billowing...fifteen seconds, to let them focus on the "cover" and the "assault" behind the smokescreen...then we go in...I lead, both pistols out.

/OOC--lore roll, Military,to try and pick out leadership figures..shoot them, most especially females, hopefully bagging Myrkyris. Moving from cover to cover.

[Andrea Chan-Gauthier]

[Unless Andrea stops him, Trone will simply leave the librarium. Trone's arms are full with holding the book, and only a single las-pistol lies at his side. He does not appear to be nervous at all. Closer up, Andrea can tell that the midshipman is clearly a very strong man]

Andrea flips aside the cloth, and grabs her HellPistol. Not bothering to sling the power-pack over her shoulder, since she couldn't really move from this spot with her ankle the way it is anyway.

Still speaking quietly, "Ursus, once I stop him, please go upstairs and lock the door." She checks the weapon to make sure the safety is off, and that the connections are good and it's getting power. Then she raises the pistol, pointing it at the thankfully large back of the muscular man, and calls loudly, "Midshipman Trone, stop where you are, please. I'm afraid I can't allow you to take that volume from the Librarium."

[Garrius Amphael]

Dialogue continued before DK's post

Garrius now peered around the corner, trying to get a look at those he spoke with. He could feel the warm adrenaline rush through him, his knuckles whitening from his grip on the plasma pistol he held.

"And who are you to speak for this Myrkyris? Come now, you speak to an Amphael, do you not realise to speak on behalf of your betters is but a crime? Surely this Myrkyris of whom you speak would appreciate an audience with one of my standing. Come man, fetch her immediately!"

[Montresor]

"And who are you to speak for this Myrkyris? Come now, you speak to an Amphael, do you not realise to speak on behalf of your betters is but a crime? Surely this Myrkyris of whom you speak would appreciate an audience with one of my standing. Come man, fetch her immediately!"

As the Lord-Captain parleys, the men of 1st squad attempt to train their sights on possible targets. The range is still too extreme for any of them to hope to have an accurate shot, let alone see the foe.

[the barricades are 50m away, Garrius's plasma pistol and Praetus's hellpistol have base ranges of 30m and 35m]

Nonetheless, one of the armsmen prepares a grenade, waiting for the right moment to throw the device. Garrius notes with discomfort that perspiration seems to be running from the armsman's face like the leaking coolant on the walls.

'We are not afraid!' the man calls back at Garrius again. 'You will see her soon enough, and you will either Ascend as she has, or will fail the test of flame. Be purified or be incinerated!'

There are sounds of movement from down Access Tunnel D. Vague, shifting silhouettes move in the smoky darkness.

Without anticipation, the pulsing rythm in the walls intensifies. The guard with the grenade retches, blood splashes forth from his eyes, and he drops the grenade. A second hangs in eternity as the squad watches the grenade fall, skip on the floor . . . and explode.

[noone passed their reaction tests, despite Garrius having a bonus for having noticed something was wrong with the man. Praetus watches in fixed horror as the grenade lands right near him . . .]

There is a blinding flash, and miniscule shards of shrapnel scissor the air. A hot blast of smoke engulfs the corridor, and everyone wonders if they are dead. Yet, the grenade only had a smoke charge, and the group's armour has protected them all from whatever shards of minute shrapnel the blast created. However, everyone in the group is stunned.

[Praetus is stunned for two rounds, Garrius for four]

Smoke rushes into lungs and causes eyes to water. Some of the squad stumble in a panic, losing their cover. There is an eruption of gunfire from the barricades, and the sound of people rushing up the Access Tunnel. A las-blast sears through the air, swirling smoke in its wake, while auto-bullets ricochet harmlessly amongst the corridor.

Complete confusion has set in.

[Second Squad]

Moments before the blast is heard, Drak-Kung is tensing for his assult. Having successfully navigated back rooms towards his target, he finds that he has led second squad to another small barricade. In the darkness ahead, he sees a single narrow door entrance into a confined room, in which two or three people wait behind cover. Judging by their movements, Drak-Kung can tell that he and his men have been noticed.

The Master at Arms finds adequate cover, though he knows a rush into the opposing room will not be possible without the risk of exposure to fire. As the pulse intensifies, Drak-Kung is almost overcome with the urge to vomit, and he feels his eyes welling with fluid. There is a blast from the main access tunnel, followed by bursts of las and auto fire, and the general sound of a charge.

[The first round of action starts. Could players tell me what their first actions will be. Please remember that Praetus is stunned for 2 rounds, and Garrius for 4. In all likelihood, those characters will be rushed by the time they are no longer stunned. I will try and run this combat in 5 round bounds per update. Players can be vague or specific about their actions

/OOC--lore roll, Military,to try and pick out leadership figures..shoot them, most especially females, hopefully bagging Myrkyris. Moving from cover to cover.

I will assume this will be your basic actions unless you want to change tact. You passed your rolls and think that the enemy in the next room are most likely just ratings]

[Montresor]

"Midshipman Trone, stop where you are, please. I'm afraid I can't allow you to take that volume from the Librarium."

Trone turns around, a look of puzzlement turning to alarm the moment he sights the hell-pistol aimed at him. He reflexively moves the great tome to cover his body from the blast. Steadying the book with one hand, his other instinctively heads for his las-pistol. He stops just short of touching the grip when he sees that Andrea is serious.

'What is the meaning of this?!'

Confusion is written boldly with horror as Trone mulls over the situation he has found himself faced with. Something seems to click for him, and a knowing look of revulsion passes over his countenance.

'I should have known you'd be one of them . . .'

Trone goes for his las-pistol. Scribes duck for cover.

[An opposed Ag test saw Andrea come out convincingly in the lead. If you wish, you can get an Aimed shot off at midshipman Trone. However, the book is in the way and, though it is not the best armour, shooting through it will damage the text. There is also the chance that Trone does not intend to fire, and instead just wishes to force a stand-off. It doesn't look that way, however. The choice is yours - shoot, or not? There is no time for dialogue]

[Andrea Chan-Gauthier]

Time suddenly slows down for Andrea. This proves it! He's turned to Chaos, or he wouldn't try to shoot back. Thinking back to the hours she spent in the shooting range, learning to use these weapons entrusted to her by generations of Chan-Gauthier ancestors, and the words Daddy had said.

• "Gently squeeze the trigger, punkin. If you pull it fast, you'll end up wiggling the whole weapon, and it'll shoot off in the wrong direction. So keep things calm and steady, and when you're ready, squeeze it slow and even."
  
  "What about the recoil, Daddy? Won't it hurt?"
  
  "Oh punkin, it's a laser. There is no recoil."

So, watching the Midshipman's own weapon come out of its holster, and move slowly to where it would most certainly kill her, she squeezed the trigger on her family's HellPistol slowly and carefully, aiming for the man's head, so as not to damage the precious book.

[Drak-Kung]

Whisper to my squad to quickly blast the barricade...

still waiting on the 3rd squad to pull attention away so we can charge safely, as I know nothing of what is happening elsewhere...

having folks with lasguns take shots at targets of opportunity....I'm using bolt rounds (since they explode) to blow apart the barricade.

[Montresor]

[ACCESS TUNNEL D]

Gunfire from the barricades cease and, moments later, melee is joined in the cloying smoke of the Access Junction. A small group of desperate ratings attack with fury, pressing their advantage while the First Squad coughs and retches.

Praetus feels someone brush past him, narrowly avoiding becoming the target for the enemy; Garrius, being the lead most is assualted by two men. A heavy wrench crashes against his armour while a knife seeks to find exposed flesh.

[Rounds 2-3, Garrius presents an easy target, and is hit multiple times, mostly to little effect. The rating armed with a knife finds a fold in Garrius's armour, and Garrius suffers 2 Wounds damage.
Praetus stumbles forward, glimpsing the silhouettes of the men while his eyes water. He squeezes a shots off with his Hellpistol, though fails to connect. However, his timely intervention causes the knife-wielding rating to give up attacking Garrius and come for the navigator instead.
Round 4-5, Garrius is repeatedly hit by the wrench-armed rating, to no effect. Praetus fires one last time, skimming the shoulder of his opponent, inflicting minor damage. The knife-wielding rating jumps and grapples Praetus to the ground. In the smoke and confusion, they grapple for advantage; the rating is attempting to disarm Praetus and bring his knife upon him (see page 240 for rules re: grappling).
Garrius becomes unstunned, holsters his plasma pistol and draws his sword]

[SECOND SQUAD]

As the gunfire cease from the main tunnel, Drak-Kung and Second Squad open fire almost simultaneously with the enemy in the adjacent room. Second squad holds the qualitative and numerical advantage though, compared to their foe, they are much more exposed. Las-blasts and boltgun fire cuts through the air, splintering cover and scarring walls. In the narrow confines of the rooms, smoke from the exchange begins to obscure sight.

[Rounds 2-5, Neither side suffers any noticeable wounds, wisely sticking to the cover they have. Drak-Kung conserves fire, keeping to single shots, and targeting the barricades themselves. He fragments some of the enemy cover, as his bolts explode and rupture upturned stores. The enemy cover is slowly being whittled down.
On Round 5, Drak-Kung hears gunfire coming from Third Squad's position. He does not hear the rush of flamer fire, as yet.

All players please indicate their actions for Rounds 6-10. I will hopefully update this tomorrow night. To keep things moving, I will definitely update in 48 hours, and will assume player actions from past posts, if no new directions are given]

[Montresor]

So, watching the Midshipman's own weapon come out of its holster, and move slowly to where it would most certainly kill her, she squeezed the trigger on her family's HellPistol slowly and carefully, aiming for the man's head, so as not to damage the precious book.

Andrea squeezes the trigger, her lungs already empty of breath. A searing beam erupts from the weapon, obscuring her vision and jolting midshipman Trone's head to one side. A blistering scar erupts along his scalp, burning hair and causing the man to cry in pain.

[One percent more and you would have missed. You inflict 9 Wounds! He is in very bad shape]

Trone fires a blast from his las-pistol and Andrea retorts in almost the same instant. The reek of laser fire hangs fills the air. As Andrea continues to fire, Trone dashes for cover behind a heap of collapsed shelves. The Seneschal's Hell Pistol continues to fire ineffectively, almost in a confused panic, unable to find its mark.

The midshipman takes a chance, just as Andrea crouches for cover, and fires a blast from his pistol. Andrea sees, more than feels, the blast impact straight with her augmented right eye . . .

[The choice is yours - take a +2 Crit, or consider using a Fate Point to avert the situation (not burning one)]

[Injerian Praetus II]

The problem has always been that Injerian Praetus II is self-absorbed, and so he failed to see the grenade as it hurtled to the air and then land on the ground beside him. Praising the Emperor that it was only a smoke grenade, and cursing his enemies - whoever they were - after smoke filled his vision and nostrils, the senior navigator stumbled in the thickened air.

Ahead, he saw the silhouettes of the enemy, and so he fired his hellpistol repeatedly, which failed to bring a single one down. Although one was wounded, the fight was turning against him, for a second later one of the ratings jumped and forced him to the ground. For several seconds, as the two men fought for their lives - fighting ferociously - Praetus' world narrows down to just this battle. Just him and the rating.

All that mattered was his world.

Praetus' hat had fallen off his head. So he opened his third eye and looked at the man grappling him.

[Drak-Kung]

Keep up the fire.....when I hear flamer fire, I will reload both pistols (lest I run out of ammo in mid-charge). Once reloaded, I will rush in. I will also be screaming for the Emperor to guide my aim and infuse my bolts with his wrath upon the heretics.

[Andrea Chan-Gauthier]

[One percent more and you would have missed. You inflict 9 Wounds! He is in very bad shape]

[Imagine what I could have done if I'd scored a solid hit?]

[The choice is yours - take a +2 Crit, or consider using a Fate Point to avert the situation (not burning one)]

[I will spend my third and last remaining Fate Point to avoid having my eye melted off.]

From behind cover, Andrea shouts, "Whoah! Midshipman, STAND DOWN. That's an order!"

[We'll go with a very unlikely Command check]

Andrea tries to check on Ursus' progress towards getting the door locked, hoping that the archivist hadn't needed to seek cover as well.

[Montresor]

[ACCESS TUNNEL D]

Smoke still hangs thickly in Access Tunnel D, and the sound of battle accompanies the jostling of murderous silhouettes. Praetus struggles with his opponent, trying to bring the man's gaze into his eye, while the crazed rating beats the navigator's hand against the floor, eventually knocking his hellpistol free. Triumphant, the man razes his knife to stab down, relinquishing his grip . . . this proves a fatal mistake - without constriction, Praetus is able to gaze straight into the eyes of the man. A horrible scream echoes down the Sub-level as the rating gazes straight into the unrestrained choas of the Warp. Blasphemous images and roiling shapes beyond mortal comprehension assail his mind. Blood rushes from his nostrils, he jerks back, and collapses.

[Praetus now counts as suffering one level of fatigue.

Rounds 6-8 Praetus grapples with the rating, loses his hellpistol, but incapacitates the man by using the Lidless Stare.
Garrius is locked in a brief exchange. The smoke and the narrowness of the passage impedes his sword thrusts slightly but, on Round 8, Garrius runs his opponent through and kills him.
Rounds 9-10 Garrius is hit from behind by a las-blast, suffering 1 Wound damage. He rushes his opponent while Praetus finds his hellpistol. The man who shot Garrius is promptly overcome by two members of First Squad, Brother Clabo, and Garrius. Garrius dispatches his foe.

The smoke has begun to clear, revealing a dead member of First Squad on Garrius's sword. It appears that only three ratings rushed First Squad, killing one guard before being overcome themselves. One of the members of First Squad joined the foe in the confusion]

[SECOND SQUAD]

Within the confines of narrow storage rooms, second squad continues to exchange fire with the three ratings taking cover before them. Drak-Kung lays down fire from his Bolt Pistols, tearing shreds from cover. A lucky shot sees a blast of gore and crimson explode when a bolt shell impacts a foe's skull.

As the distant sound of flamer fire is heard, Drak-Kung leads a charge into the next room. Blasts from autoguns, las-guns, and shotguns are brutal in the narrow room and, in mere moments, Drak-Kung and Second Squad have overwhelemed the last two ratings before them.

The darkened outline of a woman is seen in the door beyond. A surge of fiery light briefly illuminates wild and infuriated features, then there is a rush of liquid fire. Drak-Kung dives behind cover only just in time to avoid being reduced to ash. He does not know how many of his squad managed to do the same but, as flame rages along the walls and ceiling, he hears the screams of men, and he smells the horrible odour of burning flesh.

[The fire will rage for a couple more rounds. Drak-Kung can lie low and most likely avoid the worst of it, but he may lose his chance to attack Myrkyris if he does so]