Oskar listened to Vespin, who was mistaken. They hadn't been released, he did say the cell block had taken damage.. oh well. and he was excellent at cards He didnt have the time to argue the minutiae so plan B then...

"Fine" he said and rubbed the back of his neck, this was going to sound insane "A Space Marine smashed open my cell and requested my help... he should be along shortly if he wasnt caught by your friends. An ork attacked us when we fled, so i decided that we would come up here and get armed, maybe take the ship for ourselves or this Space marine. Maybe become pirates. But i mostly wanted to get armed and armored before i thought too far ahead."

It sounded crazy, he hardly believed it himself. except that he witnessed it happen, He hoped Vespin knew he wasnt smart or creative enough to come up with that on the fly unless it was true.

Xepherial started down the warp-cooked plasteel corridor, his methodic march mimicking gummed workings of his dulled wit. His body was hot with the energies of his accelerated healing processes which raced his metabolism, causing him to break out in a fevered sweat inside his compromised armor. Finally, he was alone again and able to devote an iota of his consciousness to grasping at the fading memories of his prime directive. Who was he? He was Xepherial, Dark Angel, one of the Imperial legionaries, son of the Lion, native of Caliban. Yet so much of this meant so little in present times. His legion was gone. His world, gone. His chapter master, Luther, his primarch... all gone. And what of the Emperor? As Xepherial walked, listening to the lurch of the hull and the cacophony of shouts and stamping and weaponfire, he tried to envision that esoteric being who had always been so far away. Memories resurfaced at the sounds of battle around him, and he recalled his last moments before the very world itself broke under his feet, and reality itself twisted and ripped apart things that should not have been physically able to rip. Had this Emperor been responsible for that? Had he betrayed them, those who were born on Caliban? Or had it been the Lion himself? The very thought was painful, and Xepherial's mind rebelled at persuing this train any further. It didn't matter. He'd hunt down the answers he sought and deserved until he either found them or perished in the attempt. For now, he had to make sure this Imperial ship survived to carry him onward to that end.

He had been headed in the direction of Oskar and the escaped convicts when Xepherial suddenly felt what could only be described as an intrusion on his mind. Words jumped in there without his consent and spoke to him regardless of whether or not he had wated to hear it, and this struck a spark of fury within the altered astartes. He knew right away that the message was a psychic delivery despite the wondrous presentation. The Legion of Caliban had had its own librarians, yet they would never have dared such disrespect. His lip curled and he saw the image of a pathetic supplicant serving as messenger.

"My companion? Scion? ..." Xepherial growled as he realized the sycophantic psyker could hear everything he thought. He spoke aloud. "Get out of my mind witch, or I will make you suffer before I kill you. The prophecy is a lie. I'll find my OWN answers even if I have to go to Terra myself!" Xepherial was furious, far more angry than he would have been had his humors been at all balanced. His mental slowness sought to betray him as his desire to kill and wreck havoc threatened to overcome his clarity and patience.

Maybe the psyker mutant heard him and knew where he was, maybe he didn't, but Xepherial gave it no further thought. The techmarine proceeded down the corridors as if lost, haphazardly taking turns through the interior of the ship while the battle with xenos continued outside in the void of space around them. By some random chance, he strode up to find himself behind Vespin Longshank, a guardsman who was engaged in a stand off with Oskar and the escaped criminals.

The battered, red-eyed black knight with spider-like servo arms stopped in the hall, his last footfalls silencing the exchange between the two men. He hesitated only a moment, to allow the human to register what he was seeing, then he spoke with a directness that scorned the mere mortal before him, "Take me to your captain."

The psyker that Lucius called a minion cringed quite abruptly as... something happened, bringing him back into the real world. Lucius didn't claim to know anything about how psychic powers worked, but he assumed the minion had failed after all. What a pity. Maybe he'd be more amusing if thrown to the next horde of Armsmen they came across...

'M-my master... he, uh, said nothing that wasn't yelling about some prophecy,' the worm admitted, cringing with anticipation all over again in the real world, 'but I DID manage to roughly determine where he is in relation to us! A few floors up, and a few hundred meters ahead of our current location!' That, Lucius admitted, was somewhat surprising, raised eyebrows briefly revealing as much within the voidsuit.

'Impressive,' he capitulated, nodding once as a gesture of respect before his expression returned to the usual blank slate. 'For your talent, rather. Nonetheless, that does help up substantially. Zuriel, I can't believe I have to ask you about your abilities a second time: you wouldn't happen to be able to get us to our destination quickly, would you?' Even as he said this, he was already on the move in the right direction, and fast, though as he walked he couldn't help but wonder what exactly the peon had meant by "prophecy". Had Xepherial had some prophecy or another made about him...?

@Klomster

Zuriel simply smiled with a unnatural glee. At least it seemed like he was smiling followed with the answer.
-"I myself could get there in about a minute or so, to get us there... longer." He paused shortly, apparently thinking.

He jogged past the marine, gently stroked his left hand over some steel plates, his bionic eyes wildly scanning the entire wall as he moved along it.
He stopped, jerked once wildly, followed by bending his neck in a way that didn't seem fully normal. Then with his right palm pushed in a section of the wall. Revealing an access panel.

-"Might be a tight fit, we'll just have to get comfortable with each other." He jokingly added as he punched in some override codes, hooked in a cable from his skull and after a few seconds. A previously hidden door opened on the right hand side.

-"Mech wright emergency elevator. Most imperial vessels have at least a few." Zuriel stepped away from the console and with a gesture more akin to a circus performer showed the open elevator. Sized for roughly two regular people. Not exactly a comfortable fit for a space marine. Not to mention two people and a space marine.

The look Lucious gave Zuriel wasn't what you would call a look filled with trust, rather one suggesting are you a moron.

-"Put in level 3 on the control panel. As for my abilities...... I have many hidden talents." The tech priest added, followed with an unnaturally echoing laughter as Zuriel turned into billowing black smoke in front of their eyes which swirled like a tornado which looked like it collapsed on the floor. Moving into the elevator and moving against gravity and disappearing into a small vent in the roof of the small cabin.
The roof lights flickering slightly in the corridor.

@BCTheEntity

...humm. That was a fairly useful shortcut, wasn't it? Shame about the container's size, as Lucius made clear to the psyker with a mild glare, but the worm would just have to get used to it. Not that he was particularly enthused with the psyker's... well, these clearly weren't standard Imperial powers, after all. Then again, was he so much of a hypocrite that he'd only allow others their abilities if they benefited him? According to the brief flash of renewed combat memory, no he was not.

Naturally, the tech-psyker didn't stick around, instead transforming into some form of black smoke, and apparently wafting through the top of the emergency elevator, leaving no trace of his presence behind except a slight flickering of the lights in the corridor. A few seconds later, the minion began to keen ever so slightly in his terror, before cutting off with a mild yell as Lucius grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and tossed him bodily into the back of the elevator. He then stepped in himself, barely managing to fit with a grunt of annoyance as he folded his knees up against his body, and probably compressing the follower more than he'd like - though if he showed any signs of discomfort, he was apparently hiding them. If he hadn't been crushed dead yet.

Despite his lack of mobility in the space, Lucius just about managed to maneuver his hand toward the promised control panel, pressing the button marked "3" on it, and then pulling it away as the lift moved steadily upward, jerking around a little bit for the excess of weight, but managing its journey nonetheless. A couple of minutes later, and they were at their destination, Lucius kicking away the door in front of him and stepping out once more, and the worm falling on his face just behind, gasping for a short while as he regained consciousness and attempted to stand again. Pathetic.

'Check again. Where is the other Dark Angel?' No nonsense, just orders. For a brief second, the minion's eyes rolled up into his skull again, before he blinked a couple of times and smiled, as if he deserved to do so.

'Right this way, my lord master almighty!' he cried out, beginning to jog ahead just a little. Lucius' steady pace kept up with near-casual ease; several turns, a few stops to re-check Xepherial's location, and one particularly long corridor later, and the superhuman turned the corner of the ship, his gaze falling upon his black-armoured ally at long last. Along with a substantial number of other, more standard humans, two of whom in particular seemed quite intent on standing off against one another. This was... quite the interesting scenario. Had Xepherial already begun to manipulate them to his ends, or did Lucius need to do that for him?

Not that it mattered. If they could all be brought under control, they'd all make wonderful cannon fodder. Slowly, and with his hands casually placed upon one blade and the holstered Tigrus bolter, Lucius strolled up until he stood next to Xepherial, making no less an imposing image than the armour-clad Techmarine simply for sheer aura of menace. Technically, his ally was the more dangerous of the two; when push came to shove, though, Lucius had a feeling he'd be more willing to act against these humans immediately if they turned against them first. But if they never did, they'd never have to find out.

'Nice to see you again, battle-brother,' he murmured to his ally. Then, in a louder voice, he called out coldly and confidently to the massed men 'Do as he says. You outnumber us many times over, and yet you would nonetheless die down to the last man if you tried to overpower us. It simply cannot be done.' Was this true? Possibly not completely, not with Lucius' lingering wounds, but Xepherial in particular could probably tear apart most of them on his lonesome. Such were the perks of bearing additional limbs of plasteel and adamantium.

@Klomster@Wraithblade6@Sophrus@Necroes

Oskar watched as the Marine casually walked up behind Vespin, part of him hoped that the marine would break the little bastards neck and open the armory for them. Although it didnt seem to be happening, he really didnt care how the events unfolded so long as he got a flamer or melta in his hands before they left the area and a few goons with las-guns and such to call his own would be a nice bonus.

Little seemed to be happening between the two, presumably vespin was considering the marine's order. however another hulk of a man entered the room flanked by... some crony presumably and an enginseer.... what. in. the. hell.

"Marine" he shouted mostly at Xepherial "Open the armory, me and my boys will get you to the bridge" however he did consider asking the enginseer as well because he did not seem to be a loyalist member of the machine cult. He started walking forward towards the door to the armory "the ratling said there was a goon squad on the way up here, not sure if they could take you... some extra guns at your side would make taking the ship easier. eh?"

He was itching to get his hands on some flame, it had been weeks since anything or anyone was put to the proverbial torch. He wasnt wild like a junky looking for a fix but there was an edge to his voice that was not only from being stuck with a commissar at his back. Some promethium and a spark was all he needed, and it was right there on the other side of the blast door.

At first, things seemed to be going ass-up for old Vespin. When Oskar had said the prisoners were released by a space marine, that just sounded stupid. But then, low and behold, out of nowhere a techmarine appears. Of course, the first thing he does is start spouting off like he's better than the next soldier. By the time he's done, though, another one arrives, along with someone who looks like he's gone a little too long without a fix. To top it all off, Oskar goes talking to them like he knows the group.

As luck would have it, though, at that moment the sound of shotgun fire could be heard from the corridor behind Oskar. The pained screams that followed gave a pretty clear picture of what was happening, too. Taking the moment's distraction, Vespin jumps the gun shield of his gun turret, then grabs the barrel to throw it around, swiveling it until it's pointed at the marines. Now, with a thick gun shield, as well as plenty of distance, between him and the marines, he's ready to pick back up.

Just then, though, his men walk through the door. With their shotguns trained on Oskar, the Commissar in the group steps forward. 'You there, ratling! What's going on here? Why do you have that gun trained on Astartes, and where did they come from? More over, I heard your little conversation. I assume this is the man you were talking to, so he will be giving testimony at your court-martial.'

Turning his head back to look at the group of ratlings on the floor below, Vespin smiles. Each and every one of them was on his take. There wasn't a man among them he hadn't saved on the battlefield a half dozen times or more, not to mention how many came through him to get their various fixes in the evening. They were his men, his own personal squad that he led as a corporal.

With a tilt of his head, Vespin gives his second in command the order. "Shoot him." Without hesitating, the second ratling takes aim, and unloads a solid slug into the Commissar's head. With that, he returns Vespin's nod, letting bim know he's taken control. Things had gone from exciting, to interesting, to say the least.

Looking back at the marines, Vespin squares his shoulders. He'd dealt with the blue boys before, but he wasn't entirely sure these two weren't traitor legion. "Listen up. We can do this one of two ways. I can kill you three, and my men down there will kill old Oskar. I walk away with your corpses, throw you out the airlock, and be about my business reporting that I found the commissar dead when I arrived to help my unit."

"Or," he continues, putting his head up just enough to look at the two marines, a somewhat empty show of good faith, "you can let me put the three of you in cuffs. I can then take you to the captain of this vessel as captives, along with the prisoners my men only inflicted superficial wounds upon," At this point, he turns to confirm that was what had occurred with his second, who acknowledges that to be the case. Then, he finishes, "at which point, we can use the man power to take control of the command deck. Enough officers on this ship owe me favors, they'll look the other way if I give them orders I say are from the captain. With that, we can commandeer this vessel until such a time as we can acquire our own."

Looking between the two marines, having realized from their body language the human behind them was of no importance, he asked one last question. "That is what you want, isn't it? To take control of the ship? At the least, Oskar over there seems to be under that impression, and I happen to be in need of a similar outcome."

@Sophrus@BCTheEntity@Wraithblade6

Oskar thought they where all done for, a squad of armed ratlings and a commissar to finish them off, but they didnt. Vespin was in control of the squad and, apparently vast swathes of the ship's crew. He knew vespin was talking a big game, it was bullshit, maybe a some of the junior officers sure. Senior officers? no way, you didnt become a senior officer by being dumb enough to be in debt to a ratling crime lord, on the pay roll sure but there is no way they are payed well enough to assist in a mutiny. Oskar couldnt believe it, it was a trick he was sure.

"no way stumpy. there is no way that i will be going to the bridge unarmed..." as he spoke he walked over to the commissar's body and scooped up his hat, and after brushing the brain matter off the hat he placed it on his head. "Ill be the commissar, my boys will be armed and be part of my routine. we all bring the marines to the bridge and either they think of a clever plan to take the ship by imperial decree or whatever... or we all start fighting. Oh, and if you think we are going to take the bridge because you greased some palms you are mad. besides if that is your plan, you best kill me now because there is no way i will be going into battle without a weapon."

Oskar stood his ground with only a few feet between him and the Commissar's saber. He wouldn't win the fight but he would go down fighting. Vespin may have though his bluff was weak, and it was he only had a few moments to think of it, but this was rediculous. Vespin was playing it like he had quad-aces. At best he had two pair, besides he was more worried about the guard learning about the mutiny. The Major was a pious manic and couldnt be bought or intimidated by Vespin or Oskar. They couldnt hold off the admittedly small contingent of Imperial Guard aboard.

Oh, for Malcador's sake. The plans these lunatics were peddling were worse than no plan at all. One seemed to at least have the idea of pretending to be a Commissar, but if clear records were being kept, he'd be instantly outed, and probably shot very shortly afterwards. And the other one was a Ratling. An excessively violent Ratling with an automatic weapon, admittedly, but an Abhuman nonetheless. No, it was clear that once again, Lucius had to take charge of the situation... at least to the extent he could without getting shot through the chest.

'Xepherial- Zuriel, if you're about and listening!- can you hack into the ship's door and map system?' he asked the armoured Marine and perhaps the tech maniac, blithely ignoring most of the banter of the lesser beings in his wake. 'If so, I'd like to propose that you open every door between here and the bridge, and completely lock down every single other door you can that might affect this small troupe. Maybe open up some doors to get our other... allies, to us as necessary, and close them behind as they go. We don't want these people getting distracted from the goal.

'And as for you, Ratling,' he continued in what he supposed was a reasonable tone, 'I suggest you let the human be the Commissar in charge. That's more believable, is it not? I don't know about my ally and I faking prisonerdom, since one of us is in power armour - if anything, one of us ought to be "in charge" as legitimate Space Marines. Nonetheless,' he finished, crossing his hands behind his back as if bound in tight cuffs, 'I can pretend otherwise if you insist.' He just had to avoid showing his hands to any cameras, and things would likely go very smoothly indeed. Perhaps the "Commissar" being shot dead would even benefit him and Xepherial.

@Klomster@Wraithblade6@Sophrus@Necroes

The marine had an interesting idea. One he had no qualms about doing.
So Zuriel walked off and disappeared around the doorway he entered from and went out from sight from the others.

There he searched for an cogitator system access and workstation, which was reasonably close by. Walked over to it and began to work its systems.
A pair of crewmen walked by, giving the lurid techpriest some odd looks but then thought nothing more of it. After all, regular crew don't usually keep track of the techies, and the techies could very well change appearance and bionics between each time they saw them for all they know. On top of that they are performing weird ritual with their oh so sacred technology that the crew mostly had little idea of how it works.
So they had no idea that Zuriel was rerouting control to a new user he was establishing, hidden of course, which could easily override the main controls of the sections Lucius mentioned. At least temporary, temporary being probably an hour or so at least. System security being something that was usually woefully under specifications and seldom of any real quality unless actively attacked or on a system with high importance like a navy capitol ship or important hive cluster or something in the arsenal of the adeptus mechanicus.
This being barely an escort vessel, with few personnel who would be even aware such a system existed and the modifications being made from within the correct mechanicum parameters. This one would be hard to spot.

He prepared a simple activation word, titanhammer, which would switch door controls to him when he called for it.

Ignoring Oskar, Vespin only had eyes for the marines. He trusted his men to deal with the single man on their own, so they didn't need his attention. Things as they were, it was unlikely they would be able to help with the two astartes, so that had to be on him. When one of them started talking to the air, though, he had a sneaking suspicion he might be dealing with a possible fourth invader.

As the marine talked, though, Vespin's eyes began to get big, as his face slackened a little. Whoever this marine was, he was a few rounds shy of a full clip. "Okay, big guy. First of all, I'm a corporal in my regiment, and I'm on speaking terms with the captain of this vessel. Hell, I made him dinner, less than a week ago. I also know that he's got a giant stick up his ass, and is the kind of guy to personally know every member of the Commissariat that steps on this ship. So, no, trying to pass Oskar off as an officer wouldn't be a good idea. That said, there are plenty of guns we can hide under clothing, so no need to go yelling about going in unarmed."

"Second, I don't know who you think you are, but Astartes don't hold authority among either the guard, or the navy. Especially ones with busted armor, no armor, and whatever the hell your little chaos-cultist lookin' friend is, tagging along. Hell, I'd be surprised if they didn't throw you in the brig under suspicion of being traitor legion. No forewarning to your showing up, not even a full team of you, no superior officer with you. Then, you just kind of appear from nowhere, during the middle of a space battle? Hell, I'm not entirely sure I trust you myself. For all I know, you could be Alpha Legion spies."

"In any event, whatever we do, we need to start doing it now. That dead commissar is going to be drawing a lot of attention when he doesn't report back, so we need to make our move. I gave you lot your options. You don't want to do things my way, fine. We throw down, and alert the whole ship. Or, you swallow your fucking pride, do what this 'ratling' says, and when we get where we're going, I help you lot find a ship, and a crew that won't ask questions or go running off to the Inquisition. Now, do we have a deal?"

To emphasize his point, he ducked a bit lower behind the gun shield. He had his sights lined up on the one acting like he was in charge. The other one would be weighed down by his armor, and be easier to get a bead on after he started moving. As it was, all it would take is a twitch of his finger, and there'd be one less mouthy Astartes Asshole making his day complicated.

@BCTheEntity@Sophrus@Wraithblade6

How long had it been? Half-an-hour? An hour? Two hours? The chronometer in the corner of Decius' HUD wasn't working properly, much to his annoyance, and the former member of the Third had been stalking here, there and everywhere for what seemed like an eternity before he found any signs of life other than menials and naval crew – these he either avoided, or else dispatched with his blade.

Up ahead they were, past a corridor scorched by a flame of intense heat - the gore of bodies still visible as he moved on, with one being distinctly Orkoid...at least what was left of it, torn apart by the shotgun blasts he had heard earlier no doubt – his surprisingly light footfalls carrying him like a phantasm through the vessel before he came within a few feet of the armoury and heard raised voices; by the sounds of them, one was the tech-marine and the other his brother of the First, other human voices unknown to him making threats and bargaining in equal measure.

By hearing and training alone he managed to pinpoint the postilion of the mouthy Ratling as he entered the scene, his bolter raised and loaded in his hands, the amethyst warrior noting the large shapes of Xepherial and 'Thorn' standing nearby the door to the armoury.

“Brothers,” he grunted in announcement of his arrival, taking a position next to the oddly bare Angel who appeared to be doing most of the talking, his eyes never leaving the smaller figure opposite them, “having a spot of trouble here?”

@Klomster@Wraithblade6@Sophrus@Necroes@BCTheEntity