Rogue Trader - TO PRETHIAN

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Salt
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Post by Salt »

"Zarkov? Who's'at?"

I think for a second.

"Oh, he's that ass from up on the bridge. Damned fool didn't want to hear what I had to tell him 'bout Brondo."

I look straight at Peraton, "Why'd I want to ally myself with him? Now, listen here son. I didn't bribe nobody to get here. Shit, you think I got anything to bribe people with anyhow? I'm here 'cause I got a clan standing behind me. We can do anything you can imagine, with a shuttle. Build it, fix it, fly it, sneak up on a big ole damned ship like this, attach a bomb to the hull, and sneak off again. Darksiders don't fuck around, son."

"Now, as to loyalties... The Amphael took us in, y'hear? He gave us a home when that crawling lice infested puta Heale was gonna wipe us outta Delta. That's our loyalty, son. The Darksiders live and die for the Amphael. Anybody else, we could give a shit."

I smile back, just as derivatively. "But, he done tole me to do what you say. So... you know... I figured I'd do that for a little while. Until he changes his mind, see."
"For the Amphael!"
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Post by Montresor »

Andrea Chan-Gauthier wrote:The Chapel
"Can we make them understand what their neighbors and family died to create? Is it worth even trying? Or do we just bribe them with petty pleasures. They died so that we could earn some coin, which means that those who live might be able to eat better next year. Or so that perhaps we might eventually repair the air cleansers and not breath this chemical smells. I know that they're human, but… is it asking too much to expect them to understand the nuances of what's happening in the greater world? They're not nobles."
'You understand the duties of your Dynasty well, Seneschal. The primary purpose of the Writ is indeed to bring the Light of the Golden Throne to the darkness. But there are a great many Warrant holders who do not honour their purpose. So it is not unreasonable that the crew should have suspicions as to the nature of the endeavour. But,' Detronimus nods solemnly, 'this too is beyond the scope of the understanding'.

Detronimus stands and bids Andrea to follow him, with a motion of his only hand. Leading Andrea to an alcove in which an Imperial Saint guards in stone silence.

'Kneel, daughter of Man and receive a blessing'. Detronimus silently motions and mutters in High Gothic, reciting litanies as familiar to him as his own breath. The blessing done, Detronimus continues - 'My impression of the crew is thus, they revere the Writ-holder, but only because they serve the ship. When they feel the Warrant-bearer to have acted against the Invictus, the Writ remains sacred but the bearer does not.

'For the ratings, service to the ship is service to the Imperium. It is the only higher purpose they know. Harm to the ship is an insult to her legacy and to the Imperium. The ratings are but men and women, they have needs, desires, and fears. Satisfy those needs, channel those desires, and dispel those fears.

'The battle has made them fearful and angry. I doubt they know its purpose. Perhaps you could make them know? It was about wealth, was it not? Share it with them. And give them rest, at the first best opportunity. I will instruct my staff to give their souls succour, and I shall begin a week of sermons, if this is to your satisfaction'.
"For the love of God, Montresor!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!" - Edgar Allan Poe, The Cask of Amontillado.

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Post by Montresor »

Salt wrote: "But, he done tole me to do what you say. So... you know... I figured I'd do that for a little while. Until he changes his mind, see."
Peraton listens in cold silence. Quiet descends upon the control tower, except for the ministrations of the tech priest. Once Salt has finished, her superior officer narrows his eyes and grits through tightly-clenched lips.

'Let us be clear,' he begins, 'I am your designated superior. From now forward you will address me by my rank, you will act with dignity, and you will show deference to your betters. I don't care what you did in whatever worm-infested hole on Footfall you and your reeking gang scum crawled from - you have fallen under my command now.

'I'm a fleet man . . . if you even know what that is . . . with a reputation forged in battle. I will not stand for casual insubordination. From this moment forward, you will report to this Command Tower every four hours - including during your rest time - and you will present yourself as an officer should. This will continue for the remainder of the week. Should you fail to do so, I will make you acquainted with how we dealt with your kind in the Navy.

'If you feel I am treating you unfairly, take your case to the Lord-Captain himself, and see what a fellow Navy officer has to say on the matter. If you serve Lord-Captain Amphael, you serve me, and you do so as I say'.

Peraton pauses and tense silence reigns for a moment.

'Dismissed'.
"For the love of God, Montresor!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!" - Edgar Allan Poe, The Cask of Amontillado.

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Post by Injerian Praetus II »

Andrea Chan-Gauthier wrote:Navigator's Quarters

Andrea watches Praetus walking towards her, and sees him finally notice her presence. Is he even up for this?

"Lord Navigator, I hope I'm not intruding on you. I know your time is valuable, and you're very busy. However, I wanted to ask you if there are any major ports of call that wouldn't be too far out of our way, on the trip to Prethian. Our food supplies are running very low, and I wanted to know what options we had to resupply. Of course, I didn't want to bring anything to the Lord-Captain until I had a concrete plan put together. If there are no options, it's not worth bothering him."

Too late, Andrea realizes her faux pas. "Oh. Not that your time isn't also important, My Lord. I would have taken my question to Navigator Julient, but I didn't want to circumvent your authority." I learned this lesson from Brother Detronimus just now. She finishes talking, without much of a conclusion, just a cessation of speech and an awkward moment.
Senior Navigator Praetus raises an eyebrow at Andrea's brief reaction, and suddenly becoming self-conscious, steps back and adjusts his navy uniform. Shivering with another bout of cold-sweats, he wraps his blue-black coat against himself.

"As far as I know," he replied softly, "this far from Footfall and Port Wander, there are not many supply stations. In fact, I would hazard a guess that there's almost nothing we can rely on. Until we reach Winterscale's realm. Increased traffic, and more numerous worlds, would increase our chances. However, I am afraid we must do with what rations we have.

"I could check the librarium to see what charts are available there, but it is best we continue on our way. Getting to our destination seems the best option."
"Oh of course," the Navigator said with faint mocking in his voice, "you have probably heard of House Praetus. We have a palace on Holy Terra. Like all powerful groups, we also have our enemies. Do you honestly think someone like you matters?" - A dissolute noble.
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Post by Andrea Chan-Gauthier »

The Chapel

"The ship?" Andrea asks, mostly to herself. Then she thinks it through, and comprehension dawns. Yes indeed. The ship. All that she had said was not only beyond the ratings' understanding, it was beyond their awareness. They never even saw the maps, or heard the names Deltael or Galen. They saw the ship, felt it's pain as shudderings through their feet. For thousands of years, their ancestors had experienced nothing save the ship itself. The ship was what the Emperor looked like to them. Perhaps that last was a bit heretical, but… it was applicable nonetheless. Show them how their sacrifice helped the ship, ignoring the world beyond the ship, and they would be content. That had meaning for them.

Before she could get down thought paths of the ship as an everlasting symbol of the Holy Writ of Trade, changing out captains the way Andrea herself changed clothing, moving from one to the next through the ages… she speaks. "I had not considered it in that light, Brother. But the truth of your words is irrefutable, now that I have heard them. I will consider our ills through this new lens you have given me. I will craft a message for the ratings post haste. A proclamation, perhaps."

Andrea takes her leave of Detronimus then, making all the proper parting gestures to the man and to the chapel itself. Perhaps her manner is a bit too familiar with the Missionary, though only slightly, and that is easily forgiven for her newfound enthusiasm.

Navigator's Quarters

Andrea is both relieved at the lack of scathing comments from the man, and disquieted by his news. "Oh. Well… the Librarium staff are, of course, at your service in any way you require Navigator. Is it reasonable to assume that we can make this journey with only a month's worth of rations on the ship? Perhaps knowing that our only way out is through, so to speak, will inspire the ratings to balk less and hurry about their tasks most expeditiously."
Revere the Emperor; Honour the name of Amphael, holders of the Sacred Warrant of Trade.

Blessed be the Imperium of Man; blessed be the Sacred Writ.
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Post by Montresor »

[Re: the state of rations. Prethian is a minimum of three months journey away, but will more likely take four to five. One months rations can be stretched, but not that far]
"For the love of God, Montresor!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!" - Edgar Allan Poe, The Cask of Amontillado.

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Post by Andrea Chan-Gauthier »

[So, without going back and reading all the old threads... and glancing at the Koronos Sector map, it looks like the Winterscale Realms is a region of space, with several inhabited worlds, close to Footfall. Is Prethian our final destination? If so, I was confused. I'd meant to be talking about whatever our next stop was, for the 1mo limit.]
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Post by Montresor »

Andrea Chan-Gauthier wrote:[So, without going back and reading all the old threads... and glancing at the Koronos Sector map, it looks like the Winterscale Realms is a region of space, with several inhabited worlds, close to Footfall. Is Prethian our final destination? If so, I was confused. I'd meant to be talking about whatever our next stop was, for the 1mo limit.]
[Prethian is the penultimate destination. Only from Prethian can the coordinates of Albinus be located (which will need Praetus's expertise). Albinus is supposed to be close to Prethian, relatively, but Prethian is as far out as the Warp Shoals. Winterscale's Realm is the logical choice of direction to get there, and there is a greater chance of finding colonies, traders, and such who might sell food. Needless to say, the situation is dire]
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"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!" - Edgar Allan Poe, The Cask of Amontillado.

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Post by Andrea Chan-Gauthier »

[Okay. It sounds like we're already heading for the Winterscale's Realm, so there's not a lot that we can do to improve things. Just aim for closer stops than farther ones.]
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Post by Montresor »

60th Day Since Embarkation, Grand Dining Hall

[The Invictus rests in high orbit around the pock-marked wasteland of the Kellion mining colony. While the transports of the Deltael family have been unloading their cargoes, the ratings and enginseers have been busily making repairs to the ancient frigate. As a way of thanks, the transports have each loaded enormous crates of Reconstituted Starch-Rations to the Invictus which, in combination with her slightly reduced population, has meant that the frigate now has two months worth of food left.

Repairs to the frigate have been minimal and have only focussed on exterior hull repairs and fixing the Life-Sustainers. Judging by Metanus’s estimate, the Invictus now stands at roughly 85% hull integrity.

After a week of such repairs, Proctor Machia Menz of the Alid-Yuril Consortium calls for a meeting with the Lord-Captain and senior members of his staff. The meeting is held in the Grand Dining Hall of the frigate
]

A towering mosaic depicting the construction of the Invictus Aeterna dominates the throne-ward wall of the chamber. Coloured light, filtered through the myriad shards of glass representing the star ship, servitors, and priests of long-forgotten technology, streams through onto the ornate table itself. Hellar-Wax candles do little to illuminate more than the alcoves in which they are placed, but they mask the rancid odour of the ship’s leaking Sustainers. No food or drink is set on the table, and serving staff move quickly to extinguish the lho-sticks of any who attempt to indulge themselves.

Lord-Captain Garrius sits in the head position, while immediately to his left side are the lead members of the Alid-Yuril delegation. Proctor Menz waits silently, barely even glancing at the data-slates before him. He watches the men and women seated opposite to him with cold detachment. Gabriel Kaustis-Yuril and Captain Gauis Trulitch sit to either side of him, both seemingly uncomfortable. Carnelia Atreen, the Astropath assigned to the Alid-Yuril stands directly behind Menz, though she studies the mosaic with more interest than any of those gathered.

From the Amphael delegation, Praetus, Zarkov, and Andrea are seated closest to the Lord-Captain, while the newly recovered Chief Drak-Kung stands beside Garrius. Lieutenant Prolx Tyor has been left in charge of the Bridge, but most of the senior staff are present, including: Lieutenant Marl Vehle, slouching in the high-backed chair she is seated in; Duty Officer Rem Mordia, appearing nervous and uncomfortable, while fidgeting through various ship reports; Lieutenant Peraton; Metanus, who remains standing and deeply enfolded in his red Mechanicus robes; Sterr the Unborn; and the Navigators Julient and Du Preste. Salt sits, perhaps a little awkwardly near Peraton, and several of those present wonder who in fact she is.

Menz, having waited almost inexplicably in silence for a few minutes begins talking abruptly. ‘The situation at hand is this – this vessel was diverted from the main commercial arrangement, to which its use was ensured, for a period of two-standard Terran weeks. This delay caused needless risk to its crew and cargo, and placed the endeavour on which she is currently bound at jeopardy. Having suffered damage, a further week’s delay was incurred. At our own estimates, a further two weeks would be required to completely repair the Invictus.

‘Given the rumoured dwindling food supplies, such a delay would place a further unacceptable strain on resources. Morale is reported to be reaching crises levels, and the entire venture seems very possibly close to collapse. I would continue with my own assessment, but I would rather hear the senior staff defend themselves against an allegation of professional incompetence before I go on. Furthermore, as the head of this delegation, I would like to be assured as to how you intend to proceed, and how you intend to deal with the current crisis’.

Menz pauses, waiting until the first person is just about to speak, before he brandishes a handful of papers aloft. He launches once more into speech, this time studying the documents before him, moving the documents to one side now and again only to stare pointedly at various crew members. ‘We have had independent reports of officer conduct – firstly, a senior member of the Navigators has been almost derelict in their duties, either intoxicated or suffering from severe withdrawal symptoms as a result of probable substance abuse. Secondly, one Navigator was slain by the Chief of Security, under circumstances which can only be described as highly suspect. Thirdly, corruption in senior staff led to the theft of enormous amounts of essential food supplies. And fourthly, during the recent battle, the senior officer on the Bridge abandoned his post. These are all, on the surface, serious instances of incompetence, and it is my hope that by bringing these into discussion that Alid-Yuril apprehension over this endeavour may be dispelled’.
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Post by Salt »

I'm sitting there. I'm listening to the man prattle on. Nothing to do with me.

I look down at my chrono. Ah-ha!

I get up from my seat, salute Peraton, salute the Amphael, and leave the room. It's time for me to report to the Command Tower again.
"For the Amphael!"
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Post by Montresor »

'SIT DOWN!'

Salt is stopped abruptly. Turning to see from whom the outburst came, she sees that Captain Trulitch - whom she fought alongside with briefly in the cargo hold - stares at her with stern fury.

'Do you dare insult the Consortium by marching out of here without so much as a "by your leave"?! Lieutenant Commander,' Trulitch addresses Zarkov this time, 'is this the kind of behaviour you allow on this ship?'

Peraton quickly begins to explain, before being cut short by Menz, who waves his hand abruptly: 'This is a fortunate - I mean for us - display of the attitudes on board this vessel. We are your major partners, yet here we are being treated as so much furniture. I must say that I am dissappointed that, for a house as ancient as the Amphael dynasty, her senior officers behave with so little regard to protocol'.
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Post by Andrea Chan-Gauthier »

Andrea holds up a hand, demanding silence. "Proctor Menz, if you are quite finished posturing?"

"While we are no unsympathetic to your concerns, I do not see where you have any amount of oversight into the day-to-day affairs of the junior officers of this ship. I further do not see that you do yourself or your people any good by yelling like a schoolmarm. You stand here, shaking your fist like a tyranical father scolding his children. Over a few lost weeks. After months and months of waiting on Port Warder, insisting on waiting to even discuss what the trip entailed, taking no shortcuts and saving no time, now you're put out over a few weeks. I can only imagine that this is some kind of silly negotiating tactic."

"So, shall we dispense with all the drama, all the gnashing of teeth and frothing at the mouth, and you can just ask us for whatever it is you want. Because otherwise, as our honored guests, you shouldn't be expected to involve yourself with the petty administration of this ship."

As an afterthought, she waves towards the door. "Sub-lieutenant, you may continue about your duties, if you please."
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Post by Montresor »

Peraton glares at Andrea, before turning sharply to Salt and pointing to a chair. 'Be seated, Sub-lieutenant. You may attend to your duties once our honoured associates are done with their meeting'.

Menz does not wait for Salt to decide on her course of action. 'Seneschal-Majoris,' he addresses Andrea, 'I have thus far not personally raised my voice to any of you. That Captain Trulitch has done so is a product of his honourable service to the armed-forces of the Imperium. I ask that I have the full attention of those assembled, yet one of them decides to leave without even begging our pardon'.

Menz maintains his calm, though it is evident that Turlitch is infuriated by Andrea. Gabriel likewise glares at her, before blurting out - to Menz - 'Proctor, this is not unusual behaviour of this woman. She has shown herself without honour and to be most interested in her -'

Menz waves Gabriel to be quiet, placing a hand upon his arm until he does so. 'Seneschal,' Menz begins again 'I will be plain about the purpose of this meeting, and the new terms we are going to offer, but only after I have some answers to the very serious allegations which have been made apparent to us. We wish to be reassured before we have to send a message from our astropath regarding the status of the endeavour. Let us start with corruption, perhaps?'
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Post by Andrea Chan-Gauthier »

[That's what happens when I only check posts at the end of the day. I skim, and then I attribute the yelling to Menz when it was only Trulich. Inexcusable.]

"Of course, Proctor. Reasonable discourse is always welcome. And by 'corruption' I presume you're referring to the regrettable incident with Lieutenant Travic and the stolen food. I am sadly unable to furnish you with any justification for that. The man had our trust, he abused it, and we failed to catch it. I feel somewhat responsible for the entire affair. Travic was not under my command, but his activities fall within my domain. When not dealing with pirate attacks, I assure you that my time is spent reviewing the family's accounting practices so as to avoid this type of thing in the future. As you may be aware, I'm new to my position, and I'm still extending myself to the full scope of my duties. That's not an excuse, just an explanation of my failure. I can assure you that such a theft will not happen again."
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Post by Montresor »

Menz draws breath through his nostrils, slowly. Narrow-eyed, and patient. 'Good. I don't like excuses. Explanations, however, are what we are after. Please, Seneschal, keep us informed of your investigations as much as discretion allows.

'This regrettable theft will delay the endeavour, which is a concern to the Consortium. Have you placed any kind of reward for this . . . Travic? We would hate to see such a man escape justice. But, his fate is not relevant for the time being. Perhaps, before I suggest new terms for the endeavour, some of the other staff may wish to answer the other allegations?'
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Post by Salt »

I return to my seat, near Peraton.

I wink at him, when nobody else can see me.
"For the Amphael!"
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Post by Montresor »

[By this stage, Salt would be suffering one level of fatigue. Days of going without any longer than two hours sleep at a time will be taking their toll. This only translates into a -10 penalty to any tests you need to make, at this stage]

The dull humm of the ship's engines punctuate the awkward silence. Menz waits patiently for the next officer to speak. It is Vehle who talks, leaning forward on her elbows, and casting glances as much at her fellow officers as at the Consortium delegates.

'I've been approached by members of the crew who want to know why so many died in the battle,' at this point, there is an unmistakable glint of derision at Garrius Amphael. 'I'd like to know as well, to be honest. I think the Proctor has a point in being angry about the delay. The crew knew they were on their way to Albinus, now they're confused that two thousand people died protecting someone else's ships.

Whether Menz is delighted by Vehle's frank dialogue he does not register, but few present could doubt that it does his position good.

'Now I'm not worried about the business, 'cept as much as more money is good for the crew. They're unhappy. They see no reason to break their backs if it means they travel to their deaths faster. They want results like everyone else here, and they want something for it.

'I've heard the crew talking a lot about Laurent Amphael lately. "Him were no pirate," a bilge-scrape told me'.

Vehle folds her arms and leans back, clearly tired and irritable.
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Post by Salt »

I'm also tired and irritable.

"We might not have lost so many, except our battle leaders were thinking with their balls instead of their heads."

I look right at Trulich.

"Lots of our people died every time you decided to charge a fortified, defended position." I pause. "Sir."

"I got called a coward for suggesting we try a less dangerous tactic. It seems to me, a whole mess o' those deaths are on you, Captain." Then I turn to Peraton, "O'course, not all the headlong rushing was their fault. Our side also coulda taken it slower and saved lives. But I don't think keeping the ratings alive was a priority, as long as the officers got to be standing there when the Amphael walked on the ship."

Still to Peraton, "Why'd we rush in and take that landing bay, sir? There were reinforcements coming with the Amphael. We coulda attacked 'em from two sides at once, but instead we wasted a buncha ratings just so you could look all heroic for the Lord-Captain."

"No wonder they's muttering... y'all don't give a shit about the ratings."

[I have more to say, but I figure someone will cut me off around now to throw a tantrum.]
"For the Amphael!"
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Post by Montresor »

Trulitch is about to respond, but Salt's immediate redirection of her tirade at Peraton holds his tongue. Peraton's eyes narrow, and his jaw fixes sternly. Those who have a view of him see that he is clearly controlling his own outburst. Vehle, on the other hand, nods pointedly in agreement with Sub-lieutenant Salt.

Peraton holds his tongue no longer. 'Sub-lieutenant,' his voice is icy and spite-filled, though he does not lose his temper, 'you will remember that you are in the presence of your betters. Enough'.

Trulitch contains himself no longer and, although he does not raise his voice, there is nothing but cold anger in his tone. 'When you serve three decades in the Imperial Guard I'll listen to you question military strategy, bilge-scum. I've seen more blood spilled than tears you could ever cry for them, girl. I've killed more men and worse than you've had conversations with. I will not have - '

Proctor Menz holds a hand up, 'Captain Trulitch, thank you for your concern. Let the young officer speak, if she will'.
"For the love of God, Montresor!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!" - Edgar Allan Poe, The Cask of Amontillado.

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