POOHEAD189

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The Caledonia was a carrack-class freighter, a capable transport ship made a scant thousand years ago at the turn of the millennium. The Imperial manufactorums on Saturn had grown nostalgic, and whispers across the galaxy of the end times approach had made the more superstitious grow agitated and given cause for alarm. The ship itself was not built as a warship, and no modifications on it could make it a great one. But it was able to handle anything close to its own size if need be, and was outfitted with enough armaments and engine power to repel any pirates and wound anything brazen enough to attack a ship piloted by one of the emperor's own Rogue Traders. I was banking on its superb craftsmanship to see us through.

We stepped out onto the reclamation deck, greeted by the towering Thunder Warrior Lucius Raj, wearing his bronzed armor. Stationary he looked like an abandoned war machine left along the road during the time of the great crusade. I suppose that was not too far off the mark. Flanking him were two of Urien's men, who asked us to accompany them to the bridge. I gave a nod and ordered them to make haste.

"I heard there was a bit of trouble on the planet. It is fortunate you got out, though I guess I am not too surprised." Raj said, following us with easy strides. He lumbered on like a bear, deceptively slowly, though he kept pace with ease. Every three steps we took covered just one of his great strides.

"Trouble?" Clara asked, eyeing the antiquated super soldier but still unfamiliar enough not to know if he was joking, or whether to yell at him. She was confident, however, and decided to correct him. "There are flames a thousand feet high and some of the grandest artworks in the entire imperium have been destroyed, killing tens of thousands."

"Yes, a bit of trouble as I said. The Commander's firepits of Ursh would have swallowed up this calamity."

"Silence Raj, or I will silence you." I said, deathly calm. I did not look back at the big thunder warrior, and even if I had, I would not have been able to read his expression under the great helm. Luckily for the both of us, he followed my leave and kept his mouth shut for the remainder of the walk.

We arrived on the bridge, the ship's engines pulsating, causing the almost organic background noise of the ship to grow louder even over the buzz of activity. Urien stood on the platform his 'throne' would normally be situated on, eschewing the practice other Rogue Traders prized. He had not gained his position from being named an heir, as most rogue traders. He had been granted a special permit by the High Lords themselves. It was one reason he only had a small number of ships in his retinue, the Caledonia being the largest. Beneath him, the operations subdeck was manned by dozens of techno-barbarians, and the hololith gave a projection of the planet and the hundreds of ships in orbit. I did not need to be told the great red indicator signaled the vicinity of the Even Chance.

"Auld tech priest! In here!" A voice called out. Lazarus turned, spotting one of the Urien's shipmates waving him over to a chamber on the left, memory reminding me it was the navigation chamber. Lazarus's extra arms aided him in a half walk, half crawl toward the gruff looking fellow as they began to speak quickly to one another. I turned to meet with Urien, but Lazarus called me over a moment later.

"What? I don't have time." I told Lazarus.

There was a small whirr from the former Skitarii, as if a cogitator had just been turn on. A red light blinked in his left eye. "In four minutes, there is a sizeable chance I might be able to get you and a select few onboard the Even Chance if trader Urien can get closer."

My eyes widened a fraction. "How close?"

"As close as you can." Lazarus said, handing me the dataslate with the ship's beacon coordinates before bleating more binary and turning around to operate the navigational cogitator. I turned and relayed the information to Urien. I prayed to the God Emperor we made it in time.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The aquila lander's heavy engines roared, sending debris and dust across the landing pad. I watched as my ruinous counterpart made his escape, his shuttle lifting 50 meters into the air before it realigned itself, the ship shot into the sky with the increasing velocity of a plummeting asteroid. Emmaline cried out in dismay, slamming her fists into the ground as our quarry escaped. I turned away, my visage a neutral ease. My second and lover evidently noticed my manner, blinking with confusion.

"What? Didn't we just lose him?" She asked, frustrated from her confusion. Her eyes narrowed. "Another secret?"

I held me hand out to help her up, and she took it as gently as she could with the power armor. Once on her feet, I reached to my left arm and pulled down the sleeve of my coat. On my wrist was a psi-launcher, an ancient device powered through one's own psychic energy. I idly plucked at the mechanism and showed her the chamber was empty. I pulled the sleeve back up and gestured for her to follow. We needed to make good time to the aircar if we were going to be effective.

"I have placed an adeptus astartes locator beacon upon the shuttle." I explained, stalking through the now mostly empty corridors of the great monastary. What acolytes and pilgrims we saw were wide eyed or hushed, seeking respite or ways to hide. No doubt the violence in the grand hall would have been reported. Patriarchal forces were en route even now, and we needed to be gone before that happened.

"So we know where they're going?" She asked, but I could tell even when she said it, she surmised there was more to it. Astute as always.

"An adeptus astartes locater beacon is not a simple tracking device. Courtesy of Bacchus and the Red Scorpions. It is used by scout teams as beacons for their drop pods and terminator teleportation devices. It showcases the surrounding area as well as tactical details, and it is also a signal for teleportation devices to be used, if they are synched up." I explained. We had left the causeway and now stepped outside once more, approaching the cliffs as the sun stretched the shadows of the temple across the greenery, showcasing the time to be mid afternoon.

"I was not told we had teleporters." She said, a bit offended.

"We do not have long range teleporters, no. But there are pieces of equipment I have had little or no use for that have been left by Kronus, and this is one of them. Unfortunately, there are only three, and they are in a state of of...questionable repair. However, if we approach within half a kilometer of the shuttle, we will be able to appear exactly at its location with Lazarus's assurance of their reliability, and once we get a map up on the cogitator. Then we shall cut this snake off at its head. But first, let's see how Urien and the others are doing."

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Aye captain!

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt had felt relieved as well. His mind was not solely on Silke, though at the forefront of his mind, he was glad to have her rest up. Fiance or not, he worried about her. It was...well, he guessed it was not 'diplomatic' to use the term 'insane,' but he could not think of a better one, it was insane how she worked so hard and took so little rest. Imagine how effective her sharp mind would be if she actually slept for once. Even vagabonds like him knew how important rest was. He never did a big heist (if he could help it) on little to no sleep. It was the difference between getting paid and getting thrown into the gaol.

He accompanied her to her chambers and gave her a smile he hoped showed her how much he appreciated her acquiescing to their request. As the door closed, he realized it was the final chapter of the day. A very long day where his dreams had come true. He still felt a bit light headed, as if he would wake up and realize it was all a dream within seconds. Galt cleared his throat and turned to walk with Vincent, glad the man had not yelled at him. He could tell this was not his wish, but he hoped Vincent would at least be civil about it. The ex-thief supposed that was a bit too much to hope for, evidently.

Vincent stopped him at the door and demanded Galt break off their engagement.

Galt clearly disagreed, but the incredulity of his face was something to behold. Vincent practically blurted it out in Galt's estimation, but he supposed the brother had been waiting for the best chance to broach the subject. He nearly laughed, but caught himself, and after a moment's contemplation, felt a bit sorry for Vincent. He was not going to agree, of course, but he did understand to an extent.

"Vincent..." Galt opened his mouth, and then closed it, and opened it once more. He tried to find the words to show just how impossible that was, but gave a sigh after long last. "I'm sorry but no. Look, if I did not do this, then she would be shipped out of the country to broker some deal for monetary or geographical value, and I think we both know she's worth more than that. You would see her maybe three times again for the rest of your life. But even if it didn't make sense, I just... I love her. And I would do anything for her, and I did not make her say yes to anything. Can you understand that?"

He was not asking him as if he was speaking to a simpleton. He truly wanted to know if Vincent could wrap his head around Silke marrying someone from love, and that fact being a beneficial proposition.

A Chartered Course: Medieval Trading League RP

"Flawlessly..." Bad echoed.

The morning was still young, but the heat was already on the caravan like a heavy blanket, the air stifling and the humidity clinging to the skin. The radioactive sun, ever distant, still somehow felt oppressive. Avian lifeforms screeched and cawed, flapping intermittently above them as the strange beasts of burden chittered and clicked, their 'necks' spewing forth bursts of air from some gill-lick protrusions. Bad had never seen their like, but the locals had assured him they were docile and dependable, so they were good enough for him.

Unlike the night before, Bad was fully kitted. His pack was slung over his shoulders, and at his hip was hung his Sagax-saber. The Sagax sword designs were centuries old at this point, high carbon steel swords with a zenon-coating agent and depleted uraniam infused in the edges of the blade to help it cut through armor with greater ease than a normal sword. Privateers and adventurers had discovered long ago that in the close quarters of ships or in environs where ranged weapons could be damaged, a well made sword was as useful as it was back in the 17th century seas.

In his hands was his HKG155 assault rifle, with a short stroke gas operated piston and a cartridge of 50 rounds of plasma-infused shells. It was better than most small arms at piercing armor, but it still was no replacement for good old fashioned heavy munitions. He had four cartridges in his pack and held it casually, its long sling across his shoulder. The sun peered down, igniting his dark hair and black, form hugging shirt with light, merely advertising how black both were.

They had traveled four miles without incident, save for a few of the cargo handlers nearly having a fist fight over some argument Bad really hadn't had the curiosity to find out on. But once they got going, it was so far, so good. Soon, the sound of a rushing river grew audible over the rustlings and wind of the jungle. Bad remembered from the datapad that it was the first big obstacle, and given a two star threat level as a potential ambush sight. He placed the stock on his rifle and held it up, signalling for Inez he was moving forward to check it out, giving a small wave to indicate she could take the left if he went right.

A Chartered Course: Medieval Trading League RP

Had he been fully awake, he might have dodged the punch. As it were, it seemed like the xenos had come out of the swirling melee like a fish leaping out of water, and he was decked straight in the face. Bad staggered back, his ass hitting the table. Luckily for him, the punch was enough to wake him up and clear his sinuses, and the native stupidly attacked with the same fist. A bottle rolled where the table was tipping, and Bad's training took over. He ducked under the swing, grabbing the bottle and shattering it on the table, and as the xenos went in to cut his throat with its claw, he already had the broken bottle poised, moving into the xenos' space and stabbed into the arm that thrust the claw forward, rendering it useless. The bottle shattered a final time, falling to pieces from piercing the carapace. But it was all Bad needed it for. He saw the other claw fly in, and he leaned back on the table, kicking his feet up, his left pushing against the inner arm to keep the claw at bay whilst the other slammed into the xeno's ugly face.

It half screeched, half grunted as it realized it was its turn to stagger back. Bad landed on his feet and waded in, landing punch after punch against its torso and face, his fists like machine gun bullets hammering into it. Even its carapace seemed a paltry defense, and with a hard kick to the native's left leg, it fell. Bad grabbed what likely passed for hair on the thing and helped its momentum, sending its face right into his knee.

Another local near had him from behind, but Inez's makeshift club knocked a chair aside. Bad gave her a grin in response, and they blocked and punched, back to back, moving as if they were one entity. Inez ducked under a metal pole while Bad caught it, Inez cracking the hand that held it with the butt of her riot gun. The assailant squealed and fell even as Bad, hands still on it, swung it end over end to slam into the head of a charging native on his side. Inez was hit in the gut, but she took it well, Bad lowering himself so she could roll over, across his back, kicking the neck of a human attacker before she hit the ground. On Bad's end, he gave the Xenos that had hit Inez an uppercut that sent it flying back.

It was over even quicker than it began. Bodies and painful moaning lifting into the air, glass crackling and chairs squeaking as people tried to use them to help them rise, before falling back onto the floor. Bad had accumulated a bruise on his cheek and a few small scrapes from flying glass, but otherwise he looked better than before Inez had walked in.

"You're good," He said, wiping the wood chips and glass off his broad shoulder. "I'd buy you a drink, but I think that ship sailed."
@Penny

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

It occurred to Neil there that this was real curiosity. Sure, he hadn't expected her to be playing him all this time, but at the back of his mind he had always been somewhat wary of her intentions. Maybe it was the fact he had been on the run for the better part of two years, or maybe it was the big point of her having tricked and caught him in the first place. Yeah, both were good points. But still, he felt it somewhat unreasonable now. Hell, the biggest thing that annoyed him at first was that she was a little too nice about it. She had even taken care of his fish! His opinion had gradually shifted (well, gradually for Neil), but now he just felt a sense of kinship beyond the magnetism of physical attraction and her penchant for mischief which mirrored his own.

He scarfed down the slice of pizza and washed it down with another swig from the bottle, covering his mouth as he gave a low, almost imperceptible burp.

"Well, I guess you've accumulated enough points to unlock my tragic backstory." He said with a grin. His feet were crossed, left foot on the table with his right atop it. He loosely held the bottle in his right hand, idly swinging it back and forth.

"When the Valk war broke out, I was in highschool. I was a troublemaker, apparently. Can you believe that? Me? Anyway, I was never really political. Most of my family wasn't either, except one of my big sisters. She was very anti-government. Almost a picket-sign kind of activist. Once I graduated, I took a year of college before I joined up with the Ordo Sanctus, fighting the great fight against the oppressive UNF. I'll be honest, I just wanted to work on big mechs and fight in them, and the UNF needed you to go through all this training, so I went with the rebels. And I was good at it." As if to emphasize the point, a highlight reel of the day's fight flashed on the holovid behind him.

"I was so good the UNF even had a small bounty on me before things went south. But eventually, one day the 189 got torn apart. I had to run, and I ended up on this small countryside house. As luck would have it, a girl mechanic lived there. One thing led to another, she helped me fix my mech and we fell in love. I kind of wish we hadn't, maybe she'd still be alive." He was staring blankly now, until the world came back to him and he took another swill of the alcohol.

"Either way, one of her brothers was a high ranking UNF member. Both the UNF and the Ordo found out, but I was way too stubborn to let politics and protocol stop me. The Ordo tried to take away my mech, but I got out of there. They renounced me and said I went rogue. She told me her brother could help us. I thought that sounded alright, but turns out the higher ups in the UNF didn't see it that way. Apparently some official thought this was an Ordo Sanctus ploy. I guess they figured it was too story book to be real, and her brother was compromised. I found out later he had a rival that wanted him dead, but that doesn't matter now I guess. So they set up an ambush for me at MJ's house, my girlfriend I mean, and there was a lot of shooting. She ended up... anyway I was arrested. I was um... I wasn't feeling my best, you could say. So I broke out, hacked into their systems from a terminal, and released their tetryl explosive reserves. It was easy, it was all automated, and then I got on the comms and told everyone to evacuate. Of course I locked the automated doors to the upper floor so all the decision makers had less time to get out, but to this day I still don't know if they did. During that time, I ran and grabbed a military grade shuttle while they were scrambling, and I got off the planet."

He cleared his throat, shaking his head so the fringe would get out of his eyes. "Of course, teytryl is a toxic substance, not only explosive. I found out later they counted that as illegal chemical warfare, so they stacked that ontop of the earlier 'rebellion' thing and resisting arrest. And since I was a criminal, I went to work for a guy named Sven, doing the usual repairs and system maintenance. Smuggling every now and then. That lasted for about a year. But then I got tired of that and ended up on Hyperion 3, working at a repairshop for about 8 months until this hot biker chick showed up and charmed me into her spaceship."

He gave her a wink. "Hey, don't feel bad about it. It's been fun so far. Apparently I can't stay in one place too long. Might as well have a partner while fate kicks me across the galaxy."

A Chartered Course: Medieval Trading League RP

As the crowd dissipated, a woman wearing the vest of an armsman marched over and sat down at his table. He knew he would be approached eventually. Bad had just been told to walk in and 'make himself at home' which meant a few hours of sitting, doing nothing, trying not to drink while he caroused with the locals. He had not expected a woman. Granted, he wouldn't have cared beyond curiosity. He had never worked with a female trooper before, but he wasn't prejudice. She carried herself well and looked fit.

Usually he gave as good as he got, but he did not feel great accepting the contract, and from the lack of sleep, he really didn't have the fight in him. Plus...

"I agree, just call me Bad. Or Privateer, I guess." He said, arms crossed on the table. "So, what do I call you?"

"Inez de Calabria." She said with an accent he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Do you know why we're here?" He asked her, and when she shook her head, he reached down and grabbed his datapad. He unlocked the security on it, activated the application, placed it on the table, and slid it over to her. Text began to stream across the screen, and a map of the planet appeared before her eyes, before zooming into a small river basin two dozen kilometers from their current position.

Mission for Class D armsman and privateer.

A large shipment of manganese and tantalite is being transported from subsector A-34 to subsector A-76 to our refineries, through the Loxahar valley. Security has been found wanting. Three shipments lost in the last two standard terran months. Local forces inadequate or compromised. Evidence suggests attacks committed by the Cobalt Snake mercenaries, likely hired by local competitors wishing to monopolize the planet and repell tratta interests. Success is paramount. Double pay and access to better work if 90% of shipment makes it intact to destination.

-Councilor's Aide Theodora Nix (EC: 205983754)

The date indicated they begin tomorrow.
@Penny

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

"Really?" He asked, his tone suggestive as he leaned in closer. "Maybe you can show me the technique someti-"

Cygi popped between them and flared red, blaring a bugle from the 1800s as huge letters flashed WARNING: DO NOT TOUCH in Neil's face. The light stung his eyes and he involuntarily jumped from the sudden noise. Cygi's barrier disappeared almost as quickly as it came, though she began to march between Neil and Jocasta like she was stationed at a picket line, a musket with a bayonet leaning against her shoulder as she strutted between them. Neil bonked his head with the heel of his hand thrice, and shook his head.

"Ow..." He complained.

"What about you stud?" Jocasta asked, clearly amused.

"What about what?" Neil asked, grabbing another slice of pizza. He bit into it, and he marveled at how good it still was.

"You said you were in the army?" She asked, looking over.

"I did some ground work as a spy, but that wasn't much. I was mostly an engineer and a mech pilot. In the Valk war on Fortus. Or I was until I got tired of it, hence the bounty." He waved a finger once, as if scratching off a check mark.

A Chartered Course: Medieval Trading League RP

The Sunbraela cantina had the look of a local dive, the walls built with fiber cement and textured to appear like unpolished wood. A quarter of the walls were covered in holoimages that gave the appearance of an open window, perfectly mirroring the tropical rainstorm that had been forecast for that day. Hookah smoke wafted languidly from Inez's left, the open table surrounded by off-worlders discussing business and smiling from an evident agreement. The air was filled with the pungent scent of alcohol, cipria smoke, and sweat. To the right by the billiard tables she heard glass shattering, and a curse followed. The clacking of the balls resounded along the walls. At the center of the building was a circular bar run by a surly xenos, with bug eyes and antennae on its dark blue head, four arms cleaning the counter and shacking a bottle, its tubular mouth opening and closing every heartbeat.

The music bopped with an assortment of drums and a lazy guitar from speakers high above the bar, making a drumming tune to the backdrop of dozens of conversations as barmaids walked back and forth with plates of samplers and alcohol.

Bad hadn't slept in a day, and though he wasn't much of a drinker, even he needed something to calm his nerves after accepting the contract back at Neb's. He drank his cheap stout, blinking and giving a yawn, arching his head to stretch his shoulders. It would look fairly average if he wasn't using his left arm in an arm wrestling match with a Plaxerran, the burly porcine xenos grunting as its neck flared, showcasing it was consuming more oxygen to gain a boost in strength. Bad placed his drink down, amused at the sudden burst of power. He grabbed the edge of the table, his necklace clinking against his chest as he put all his effort in the contest of strength. Slowly but surely, Bad bent his foes arm backwards until it struck the table.

The Plaxerran squealed, yellowed eyes narrowing as it got up, holding its arm and running away, knocking over a chair in its flight.

"Hey! What about our bet!?" Bad roared after him, but realizing he didn't care enough to follow. He would get paid soon anyway, if he lived. He sat back again, the back of his head and chair against the wall. His skin the color of bronze and his eyes and hair dark, he was built well, but his eyes were red from a trip in the void and his leg shook, though he did not appear nervous.

His stomach rumbled suddenly, and it seemed to wake him up, or at least perk him up a bit.
@Penny