IC To Sail the Sleeping Stars

wormmonda

I'm in Your Games, Queering Them Up
Validated User
#11
"And our ship suffered massive and potentially irreparable damage!" Agnes added cheerfully. "But don't worry, nothing can't be replaced with a little improvisation!"
 

Raveled

Hail Tzeentch!
Validated User
#12
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."
Olga looked around, faintly angry until a different servo skull with an ice bucket balanced on its cranium floated down. She fished a half-empty bottle of wine from the depths of the bucket and popped the cork, retrieving her wine glass and refilling it. "Correction. We are going to find fellow stricken ships and give what aid we can. Sometimes that aid," she added, "will be a quick hulling and scavenging for parts. These are the unfortunate realities of space travel, I believe."

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?"
Olga sipped her drink and pointed at the Eldar emphatically. "Mmm. Yes. That. We're going to see what we can do to stop people from being scared. Okay?"
 

Starcrash

Registered User
Validated User
#13
Ezekiel tries not to visibly respond to the Kroot's insinuations that they would plunder and murder Imperial ships in distress. Rather, he allows his hood to dip forward, hiding his expression as around them the bridge rapidly descends from a scene of calm and orderly bustle to chaotic action. He keeps his focus on Olga. "By your command, Milady. We shall extract the appropriate astrocartographic-"

Even blind, the astropath can sense Olga's glare.

"I shall instruct the helm directly."

He retreats with another bow, and heads towards the pilots' station.
 

Pandorym

Magitech Construct
RPGnet Member
Validated User
#14
The adepts of the Machine Cult, guided by the... wisdom of Agnes begin to intone the sacred rites of energy transferal that send power from the titanic overlapping void shields into the vessel's mighty engines, resulting in a low thrumming filling the upper decks as lights and consoles regain their vibrancy, life renewed from the pulsing veins of the ship. "Guidance systems online, charting course as ordered, Captain." A lilting female voice echoes over the vox system, Merela's response to her mistress' command. She was an odd one, the Prime Navigator, prone to eccentric fits and mannerisms. But she'd never failed her Lady-Captain yet, and was one of the only reasons the Rogue Trader and her crew had survived the merciless onslaught of the warp storm.

"My most gracious lady," a modulated mechanical voice, vaguely masculine, speaks to Olga's right. From behind the arcing metal and luxurious leathers of the captain's chair walks a eight foot tall figure, swathed from head to toe in a fine silver robe decorated with emeralds and sapphires. An ornate faceless mirrored mask polished to an impeccable shine completes the exquisite ensemble. It is none other than the imposing, dreadful form of the retinue's seneschal - Bastion Graves. "I am relieved to see you unharmed from that disastrous Warp translation. I had to spend some time rearranging the treasury, as most of the minuscule finances remaining were scattered. I did overhear that you intend on, ah, aiding those who have been put in distress? I believe that to be an excellent plan, my lady. Whilst you care for the survivors of such a calamity, I will begin gathering data on our situation, that I might be able to present a report soon. Have fun, the bosun and I will care for the safety of the ship's interior, as normal." He bows deeply, shrouded head barely even brushing the top of her throne.

"Power restored to all engines. Transmitting navigational data now." Merela's voice resonates across the vox as a large spatial map appears before Olga, showing her a wide-angle view of the entire sector, before zooming in on nearby space and pointing out three potential nearby targets:

The Strictest Doctrine, a Tarask-class Imperial merchant vessel reporting the loss of their Navigator, one of their engines, and about half their crew. It is carrying supplies to the war-front on Mabriga, a world covered in poisonous ice.

The crumpled wreckage of an ork krooza, Teefgrinda, drifting through space near the edge of the continuous maelstrom.

A small, unknown vessel that appears to be covered in foul symbols and iconography, including a prominent eight-pointed star. A large gash in the side of the hull shows that the ship is venting oxygen.
 

kitty voodoo

Social Justice Sister of Battle
Validated User
#15
The Holo-image of the Choas vessel Immediately catches Brigia’s attention and her fingers tighten instinctively on the grip of her Inferno Pistol as she boldly marches up the steps of Command deck to get a better view. “Adept.” She says to no one in particular, “Magnify image in the lower left quadrant and calculate distance.“

Then to the Olga,

“By your leave of course, Lady-Captain.”
 
Last edited:

Raveled

Hail Tzeentch!
Validated User
#16
Olga watched as the images resolved on the hololith. A stricken Imperial vessel, a ramshackle Ork ship spilling its guts into the void, and -- Olga blanched and slopped wine onto the command deck with an involuntary shudder. "Belay that order!" She shot a glare at the Sister. "What in the galaxy could even make you consider that? That... defilement deserves to spin in all the hells." She shook her head and took a long drink of wine to fortify herself. "Auspex and comms on the Strictest Doctrine. Can we get any response? What exactly is she carrying?"
 

kitty voodoo

Social Justice Sister of Battle
Validated User
#17
Olga watched as the images resolved on the hololith. A stricken Imperial vessel, a ramshackle Ork ship spilling its guts into the void, and -- Olga blanched and slopped wine onto the command deck with an involuntary shudder. "Belay that order!" She shot a glare at the Sister. "What in the galaxy could even make you consider that? That... defilement deserves to spin in all the hells." She shook her head and took a long drink of wine to fortify herself. "Auspex and comms on the Strictest Doctrine. Can we get any response? What exactly is she carrying?"
“The Ork vessel is drifting into the warp eddy. It will be destroyed soon enough. It is of no concern. The Imperial Merchant carries much needed supplies to our Lord’s solders on Mabriga and by the Golden Throne, if she can move under her own power she will not be touched. So by simple process of elimination that leaves the third. You desire a prize my good Captain. The Emperor provides.”
 
Last edited:

Sabermane

Proud Fianna knight of hope and peace
Validated User
#18
Horatio snaps his fingers at one of the crew intil he finishes his drink. "Is Mabraghawaht is wrong with your language in this sector?"

He glances to Olga. "Humans screaming now or later I suppose. And I think we must note that help will most likely be truant at this rate..."
 

Pandorym

Magitech Construct
RPGnet Member
Validated User
#19
Olga watched as the images resolved on the hololith. A stricken Imperial vessel, a ramshackle Ork ship spilling its guts into the void, and -- Olga blanched and slopped wine onto the command deck with an involuntary shudder. "Belay that order!" She shot a glare at the Sister. "What in the galaxy could even make you consider that? That... defilement deserves to spin in all the hells." She shook her head and took a long drink of wine to fortify herself. "Auspex and comms on the Strictest Doctrine. Can we get any response? What exactly is she carrying?"
"No comms reply from the Strictest Doctrine, captain, which likely means they have been damaged," replies a strong, deep male voice over the vox. It is Bron Tiberian, the ship's main helmsman.

"The Lord Astropath Ezekiel here has informed me of your intentions. Auspex scans reveal bountiful cargo - mainly weaponry, food, and miscellaneous military equipment. The manifest lists it as supplies being delivered to the Icelus 125th regiment, currently embroiled in a war against the greenskins on Mabriga."

Bron is both former Imperial Guard and Imperial Navy himself, but his voice belies no concern for the possible fate of the vessel, its occupants, or its cargo.
 

Raveled

Hail Tzeentch!
Validated User
#20
“The Ork vessel is drifting into the warp eddy. It will be destroyed soon enough. It is of no concern. The Imperial Merchant carries much needed supplies to our Lord’s solders on Mabriga and by the Golden Throne, if she can move under her own power she will not be touched. So by simple process of elimination that leaves the third. You desire a prize my good Captain. The Emperor provides.”
"I am looking to take a prize, yes," Olga said. "A prize is something that can be taken and resold and fill my cargo hold with riches. But... that thing." She looked like she wanted to spit in the direction of the ship. "That abomination only deserves to burn in the void." She considered the options and swirled the wine in her glass. "In fact, gunnery! Firing solution on that horrible blight of metal."
 
Top Bottom