IC To Sail the Sleeping Stars

Pandorym

Magitech Construct
RPGnet Member
Validated User
#1
Space.

A vast expanse of almost uncharted depths, each tiny light a chance for exploration and profit.

Such is the wages and wiles of the Rogue Trader, with a dynastic right granted by the Emperor himself on the Warrant of Trade, to go forth and do what must be done to help expand and enrich the Imperium of Man.

Or, so it is supposed to go. In reality Olga Karinzsky was almost herded aboard her family's ancient Gloriana-class cruiser Anastasia Encarmine, the last scion of the once-mighty dynasty clutching their Trade Warrant in her bleeding fingers as the agents of the High Lords told her to get thee gone to the Morpheus Sector - a far northern fringe region of barely charted worlds - to stop the illicit market of xenos cosmetics indulged in by Imperial society.

What could be done? The High Lords had spoken. While this was no doubt a ploy to simply be rid of the dynasty and their unquestionably powerful vessel, there was no money to her name. Armed with only her wits, her heirloom power sword, and a very unusual crew, she set off to find (and potentially plunder) new horizons.

But all was not to be sunshine and roses, no, not in this galaxy. The arrival of the Anastasia Encarmine coincided with the creation of the Cicatrix Maledictum, ripping the Imperium in two, and engulfing the cruiser in a massive Warp storm that it barely survived, depositing the wracked ship in the midst of the Morpheus Sector, now surrounded completely by a raging band of Warp storms that would come to be called the Omega Tempest.

With no funds, a battered ship, and now trapped within the sector with no way out while also bereft of the light of the Astronomican, things look very grim.

We now join the erstwhile Trader and her strange crew upon the ancient bridge of their ship, barely illuminated by emergency lights and the dim emanations from nearby stars...
 

Raveled

Hail Tzeentch!
Validated User
#2
Olga Drevillin Karinzsky stood on the command deck of the vessel, one hand on the gilded rail and the other holding a glass of wine. Tiers of work stations fell away below her, crowded with robed figures and ship personnel and decorated servitors, the quality decreasing as it feel away towards the murky depths of the sub-sub-sub-floors. The armored viewports ahead of her showed the expanse of unblinking stars and a swirling nebula off to... Olga still had to check her thinking and remind herself that it wasn't off to her left. It was off to port. It was the only thing in view to draw her eye.

She took a sip of her wine and allowed her attention to wander back to the chattering of the servo-skull reeling off damaged sub-systems and ruptured hull plates. Olga had never been in space in her life before being sent off to a distant part of the Imperium and her first experience at warp travel hadn't endeared it to her; but the navigator had remarked that it was a particularly violent passage. Now she was expected to stand her and listen to a mechanical man buzz at a skull and have the skull tell her that there were many things that weren't working.

Olga drained the glass and turned to the people -- and xenoes -- assembled on the command deck with her. "Ours is a simple purpose," she said, cutting off the tech-adept's litany. "As long as our engines fire and the air sustains us, everything else seems secondary. Can the ship operate," she added, directing her question at the red-robed adept before her, "or is that another of our difficulties?"
 

Donan

Registered User
Validated User
#3
A click and clack of bony talons on metal signifies Erriath shifting position slightly, the Kroot crouched in shadows cast by the dim lighting near Olga, yellow eyes glinting in the few lights working on the bridge. The words of damage mean even less to him, save to know they're wounded and exposed to any who might target them. And the galaxy is full of enemies.

He stretches some, uneasy with feeling exposed. But then he so often does these days, severed from his own kind. This situation, at least, offers a promising distraction. His voice finally sounds from the darkness, a rasping hiss, sibilant in pitch. "We are still strong, even wounded. We can survive. Do we know of any who would hunt us, among these stars?"
 

Starcrash

Registered User
Validated User
#4
The dim lighting makes no difference to Ezekiel, but still he walks the halls of the ship slowly, his pace punctuated by the tap of a metal staff against the deck plates. His face is pinched, his lips pressed into a fine line. "There are always those who would prey upon others, Master Kroot. Even upon a vessel fierce as this." He stops beside the xeno, taking advantage of the brief pause to muster himself, and adds in an undertone, "Regardless, this close to the edge of a warp storm we would be wise to be cautious."

Stepping in front of the tech-adept to present himself to the Rogue Trader, Ezekiel offers a formal bow and speaks over the continuing litany of the ship's injuries. "Milady Karinzsky, the choir stands ready. At present we are receiving general message traffic for our immediate locality. It appears our, ah, unusually rough translation back to the Materium was not an isolated incident. A number of vessels in the subsector have reported varying degrees of distress, and the consensus of their surviving Navigators indicates a warp perturbation of unprecedented scale. While passage onwards appears viable, turning back is impossible."

"Do you have any specific requests of me at this time?
 

wormmonda

I'm in Your Games, Queering Them Up
Validated User
#5
Olga drained the glass and turned to the people -- and xenoes -- assembled on the command deck with her. "Ours is a simple purpose," she said, cutting off the tech-adept's litany. "As long as our engines fire and the air sustains us, everything else seems secondary. Can the ship operate," she added, directing her question at the red-robed adept before her, "or is that another of our difficulties?"
"Oh, oh!" Agnes waved her hands at Olga like an overly excitable schoolgirl. "Me, me!" without waiting for permission from anyone, she went and took the Servo-skull from the adept. "I can make it work!" she said into the skull, although her voice was loud enough for everyone to hear anyways. "All we have to do is divert some energy from -" she rattled on about the names of a few things that were way too specific for anyone outside of the order to understand. "- And we may even be able to improve it!" the adept beside her visibly flinched when she uttered the word "improve".
 

Sabermane

Proud Fianna knight of hope and peace
Validated User
#6
Horatio, Harlequin
The Eldar was in the mapping culdesac, making the crew nervous as he sipped something blue and fizzy from a champagne flute.
"So this, this...and all the way out to here? All of that is rift?"
"Uh..well, we only have sensorium to out here, and this section is secondary-"
"It's not a test, Shing Yiu. we're all making this up."
"...yes, I believe we're cut off entirely, and this warp rift may be stretching across the entire galaxy. The Imperium, the galaxy itself may be cut in half--are you laughing? sir??"
"What else do you want me to do man, wave my arms and fix time space with my Eldar magics?!" He slapped the man on the shoulder and handed him the glass. "drink this, do your job."

Horatio then sauntered over to the command stage, taking just enough time for a servo-skull to hand him another glass, before hopping onto the rail like a cat. "Well, my Lord-Captain, looks like everyone's sticked. Assuming we're not completely doomed, we might want to check in on these poor bastards screaming into the night. Humans like a strong hand from my experience...maybe be a hero, or at least put them out of their misery and clean their holds."
 

Raveled

Hail Tzeentch!
Validated User
#7
Olga looked down at her empty wine glass and sighed. "Very well," she said, taking the servo skull from Agnes and placing the empty glass on top of it. "Reroute power and get the engines fired up. Madame Zeingarde!" Her shout was directed to the open air; the Prime Navigator had yet to emerge from her chambers following the jump. "I require a path to the nearest station with facilities to affect repairs! In the meantime," she added, lowering her voice and turning to the rest of the group, "let's see what our fellow stricken void travelers were carrying, hm? Get us into position near some of those screaming vessels," she said with a wave of her hand, "and get some boarding parties assembled."
 

Donan

Registered User
Validated User
#8
Erriath steps forward at the announcement of intent, eyes gleaming hungrily with a slow nod. "We re predators still then? Good." His claws click against the railing before he looks to Ezekiel. "They are screaming all their secrets in fear, yes?" A cant of an avian head. "Who holds the best meat for us to savour? Which hold should we pludner first?" He pauses, then slants a gaze back to Olga. "Are there are any to rescue?" He asks. "Or are they all prey? I will lead the first hunt. I am sure others will.." His quills raise in a hint of agitation at the thought of Brigia. No doubt she'll want a lead on combat as well. "..Join in."
 

kitty voodoo

Social Justice Sister of Battle
Validated User
#9
Sister-Superior Brigia Theodorus

Sweat poured off her body and her muscles screamed as she knelt before the small altar and wiped down her axes before once again anointing them with holy oil in preparation for her next litany. How long had she been praying? A few hours, days perhaps, decades? Only the Emperor knew. Such was the nature of travel trough the Immaterium. With her axes anointed and purified by candle flame she made the sign of Aquila and rose to her feet, brushing the thick dust from off her greaves. The chapel she’d chosen for her devotions was in a blasphemous state of neglect. In days past she’d have righteously killed any Captain that had allowed a holy shrine on their vessel to fall into such disrepair but things were different now. She needed this Captain. She needed this ship, as unclean as it was, if she were to compete her mission and cleanse her soul.

She nodded grimly towards the sparring Servitor which lumbered mechanically into place as she took her opening position...

“A spiritu dominatus,
Domine, libra nos...”


She lunged forward in an opening volley of strikes

“From the lighting and the tempest,
Our Emperor, deliver us...”


A block and a pivot

“From plague, temptation and war,
Our Emperor, deliver us...”


Slope. Pommel strike to the gut. Upper cut

“From the scourge of the Kraken,
Our Emperor, deliver us....”


Empty Fade. Advance. Strike.

“From the blasphemy of the Fallen,
Our Emperor, deliver us...”


She’s driven backwards by Servitor

“From the begetting of daemons,
Our Emperor, deliver us..”


Pivot. Block. Retreat

“From the curse of the mutant,
Our Emperor, deliver us...”


Advance. Step Across. Attack.

“A morte perpetua,
Domine, libra nos...”


Attack!! Attack!! Attack!!

“That thou wouldst bring them only death,
That thou shouldst spare none,
That thou shouldst pardon none
We beseech thee, destroy them.”


Killing Blow.

The next sparring Servitor in line took hold of the feet of its fallen counterpart and dragged it’s body over to the pile with all the others before taking its place. “Again” she barked, taking her opening stance.

“A spiritu dominatus,
Domine, libra nos...”

Suddenly the ship shuddered violently as it emerged from the Warp, immediately taking her focus from her prayers as alarm klaxons began blaring.

“What in the Emperor’s Name??!!” She swore as she grabbed her equipment and marched quickly from the shrine to the nearest turbo shaft up to the command deck. Battle Sister of no, as a mere passenger she was not allowed on the command deck and one guard actually did try to barr her entrance, though the sound of her cocked bolt pistol made him quickly rethink his position.

“Navigator!! Adepts!! Sitrep!!”
 
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Sabermane

Proud Fianna knight of hope and peace
Validated User
#10
Horatio
Horatio looks at the Kroot, then the Sister. "We were drinking. We're blocked off from the rest of the galaxy by a warp storm of impossible magnitude, and we were going to go stop some people from being scared." He took a sip. "Is that about the right of it?"
 
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