With the raft finished and being loaded with supplies, Ray only had to get his group on it. “Don't worry, big guy, the raft is large enough for you to fit on.” It sagged in the water a bit, but it carried the weight of the supplies and the ogryn comfortably. Ray went to Gaius and reminded him, “Nothing too fancy, just get a good look at the village and get out. I don't really care if there's a Valkyrie fueled and ready for launch waiting for us there, I don't want you to be seen.”

Ray finally ordered the remaining supplies they had to be burned. Everyone who wanted an extra laspistol or lascarbine had already taken one, and he didn't want to share the firepower advantage they had with anyone, even if their enemies didn't know how to use them. Trooper Radclyffe's flamer spouted burning promethium over the pod and the equipment they couldn't use. “Time to get going. See you guys at the rendezvous point.”

---

It had taken them about three hours of paddling and Grav's whimpers, but they made it to the listening post. They had concealed the raft with tree branches and left it on the east coast of the northern island. The listening post was about half a klick from the raft's hiding spot, and well concealed in some cliffs. They got to the cave where the entrance was hidden, only to find the door ajar. Gesturing for silence, Ray slowly opened the door with the barrel of his lascarbine. He stepped in silently and surveyed the listening post, switching his eye to night-vision. The comms room was empty and dark, as was the generator room. None of the equipment was active, and neither did it seem like any of it has been activated recently, but a faint light emanated from the bunk room. Ray's augmentic eye switched off night vision as he slowly approached the dimly lit room.

A man was sitting on one of the cots, dressed in some kind of local clothing. He was facing a lit candle and mouthing some kind of prayer with his hands making the sign of the Aquila. He opened his eyes to the sight of a lascarbine aiming at his head. “Stay very still and tell me who you are.” Ray ordered.

“Oh, holy All-father...” he whimpered, shaking where he kneeled.

“Your name, now.”

“I am Vardan of Karthen. I-I c-came here to this shrine to hide from the bandits and mutants, but I should have never invaded this Sanctuary of the All-Father. Please spare my miserable life, servant of the All-Father. I beg forgiveness, my lord.” The man prostrated himself at Ray's feet.

Ray rolled his eye and lowered his gun. Great, a religious looney. “Relax, Vardan. You're fine now.” Vardan looked up and immediately yelped at the sight of Honoria.

“An angel of the All-father! I am not worthy. And a soldier of the Sky-father. And... and...” His voice trailed off as Grav

Ray left him gaping and examined the generator. “Looks like a simple promethium generator. Look around for some promethium barrels.”

Grav didn't like water, the ground was supposed to be solid and hard. Not whatever this was, it would sometimes be solid and other times it wouldn't. In all it was odd and he didn't like it. As the raft made its way to the destination, Grav digged into his pocket and took out a now dented case. Upon opening it, Grav was dismayed to find that most of the caba nuts had been turned to dust upon landing. With a huff, Grav tilt his head back and dumped the contents of the case into his mouth and started to chew the remaining caba nuts, with the dust turning into an odd textured paste. Grav always did like caba nuts, while on Catachen he had gotten them as a treat for doing some menial task and since then they have been his favorite snack. With his favorite snack in his mouth the rest of the ride didn't seem as bad and he settled into a sort of trance, content on just chewing the nuts and enjoying the taste.

---

As the raft struck land and the group disembarked, Grav was the last to leave. Picking up the rear, Grav was also the last to enter the listening post, watching everyone's backs. When he entered he was met with the sight of a little man talking to the others, his voice trailing off as his eyes laid on Grav. If the interagrator hadn't disposed of him yet, than Grav didn't mind him. While setting the supplies down, Grav heard the interagrator say something about needing "promethium canisters", wracking his brain on what he remembered on them. All Grav could remember was moving canisters of some substance to the tanks. Looking around the back of the listening post, Grav found a canister of something. It was too large for the guardsmen to handle so Grav grabbed it and brought it towards what Grav thoaght was the generator and as gently as he could he placed it on the ground.

With his usual symplistic baritone, Grav asked "Is dis the stuff interagrator?"

The tech-priest found the ride annoyingly turbulent, largely due to a lack of airtight containers on top of the already rough sees. Given a few more minutes to prepare and she could have made the raft more seaworthy, but no: the instant it was put together they had to set off. Given even longer and she could probably have cannibalised the escape pod even further to give it some sort of rudimentary propulsion other than using a chainaxe as an ore. It was a good thing that she kept oil on her person, rather than in supplies, because otherwise...

"You know of the Omnissiah?" the tech-priest asked the man, curious but then quickly turned back to the generator. Hm, there was a distinct lack of light... and she hardly wanted people to be stumbling around here looking for something so volatile in the dark. This would require a little emergency alteration.

Her combi-tool was put to life removing some panels from the rear of the generator, exposing where the power left the machine. It was a good thing she had so many electricity related implants and training: she could simply wire herself into the machine for the time being and, until promethium was definitely found...

... there was all the power they needed to turn this pathetic station on.

Igam trudged solemnly through the forest. While glad to be away from the trooper in red, he was unsettled by the mutants. Every rustling bush and breeze made Igam snap his head around in fear. He clutched at this aquila icon, and follow Gaius's lead deeper into the jungle. As the group continued on, Igam's thought turned inward. He was taught from a very young age to hate everything that was different. The only reason he himself was not hung for witchcraft on his home world was that he was lucky, or unlucky, enough to be picked up by a black ship.