Most ships were large enough to contain whole armies, as large as urban centers on civilized worlds. The [i]Rogue[/i] was far smaller, about three times the size of a standard city block. Large enough for its crew of sixty souls and then some, however it was pitifully small for any sort of battle. Whatever trouble the ship got into to, if it was anything above a fighter class, it would have to flee or be annihilated. 

Neil stepped past the hatchway corridor into the main hall. It was a spacious area, like the belly of a terran whale. In fact, that very aspect made it an anomaly. Most imperial starships, even the largest ones, were cramped things with an inordinate amount of imperial symbols, arches, chapels, buttresses, and symbols of the Emperor. The halls were drab, dark things filled with wires, and even the most brightly colored had a sombre look to them of ancient respect. The [i]Rogue[/i], however, had cleared out all of that, if it had ever been outfitted with it at all. Though it must have been relatively light on it before, as it would have been very difficult to break down the baroque interior corridors. Plus, it would have been heretical to have no icons of the Emperor, and the machine spirits would be furious, so every dozen meters there was a small shrine of dias's with open books to the Lectitio Divinatus and the Mechanicum's book of scripts, as well as two central tapestries of black and gold resplendent with the symbols of the Imperial Eagle and Skull. Even as they walked in, a figure in the robes of a tech priest performed sacred rites, praying in hushed tones and lighting incense beside the shrines. Skit was ushered out of the corridor by Neil's retinue, but the Captain took a moment with Tilda to let her get a sense of the place before he gave her a proper tour.

"You!" A gruff yet feminine voice clanged like a hammer in the din of the [i]Rogue's[/i] thrumming systems. Before they even stepped out of the corridor, a short woman dressed with a mechanics garb, complete with overalls, approached. Her brown hair shoulder length and bouncing as she walked, if it weren't for the mechanicum skull emblazoned on a pin attached to her greased top, her rank as an enginseer and not a common groundcar mechanicm might have been easily overlooked. "We've been waiting for you! Did you get the goods, Captain?"

"Bonny! No 'how am I'? No 'are you ok, Captain Edwards? Can I shine your shoes?'" He said in faux lament, and she mimicked punching him. He grinned. "Yeah, yeah, we happy. Everything was gained, and nothing of value was lost." 

"Really?" She said, with obvious disbelief. "Show it to me, mister 'all promises but no substance.'"

He placed his hand in his jacket pocket, but didn't produce anything. He merely gave the impression something was burgeoning within the fabric. "I will show it to you when we're not out in the open. Besides, did you even get the promethium you were supposed to get?"

"No thanks to clanker over there." She remarked, thrusting a thumb over her shoulder to the tech-priest. Neil snapped his fingers and she handed him a data-slate with the logs they had input into the cargo listing. Neil wouldn't hand this over to Tilda just yet, they needed to acclimate her first. "Where's Gantz?" Bonnie wondered, peering over his shoulder. Her eyes lingered on Tilda with a bit of apprehension. 

"Like I said, nothing of value was lost." He responded darkly, fidgeting with the device, thoroughly plummeting the mood before pulling up into the sun again. He pointed at the screen. "What does this P stand for?"[1] 

Bonnie leaned over, bemused. "...Promethium." 

"Ah, makes sense. Ok then, everything uh, seems logged in correctly." She yanked it out of his hands in the middle of the proclamation. "By the way, meet Tilda. She'll be joining us." 

Bonnie looked at the taller woman with a small measure of curious amount of perturbation, but it did not seem to be out of jealousy or any sort of base reason. Perhaps it was to do with Gantz's sudden disappearance and the immediate arrival of a woman, who by anyone's measure, was stunning, was a bit daunting. Neil also knew their entire livelihood had been riding on the acquisition of the Edwardian Vigil. Such an unexpected development would put most crew members on edge. Bonnie, however, pushed whatever thoughts she had away and inclined her head. "Anyone who can manage this guy has my respect." She said, giving Tilda a wink. Bonnie then evidently had a thought pop in her head, as she leaned in to whisper something in Neil's ear quickly. Neil laughed, but continued as if the interaction had not occurred.

"She'll be managing me in more ways than one, and no I don't mean in a kinky way." Neil declared, gesturing for Tilda to follow him. The two stepped into the open area, past a few lounge benches bolted to the floors. To the left was a set of stairs leading to the lower decks, and around fifteen meters away was a huge pillar of plasteel and pylons coruscating blue light that seemed as integral to the ship as any engine. "I mean, unless you want to, but... Anyway, let me show you around the place. There's Lazarus. Hey Laz!" 

Neil gave a wave to the busied tech priest, but the robed figure only turned enough to bleat in binary before he went back to his tasks. Neil waved him off and continued the tour, explaining the vast pillar was a part of the gellar field they would erect, in a sort of dual-purpose warp-drive the tech-priest and he had created. There were various doorways leading out of the central hub leading to turret mountings and the medbay, but Neil decided she could see the cockpit and the smaller areas anytime. He ushered her past the larger area into the next stop, the rec lounge, where a few of the crewmen were smoking lho-sticks near the open air hatch. A holoscreen, a small kitchen, various tables, and even some civilized world arcade games were set up. Neil told them to finish their breaks off, as they were about to take off again. There was a single groan, but most seemed happy to see him back alive and evidently with the prize. A few of their eyes lingered on Tilda with expression of curiosity mixed with typical, male interest. 

After the lounge, there were three halls of crew quarters. Neil and Tilda's were at the end, her quarters being separate to everyone's, set to the right of Neil's captain's quarters. Neil did not show her the inside, but he guaranteed she would not be bunking with anyone unless she invited them in. Past that was the cargo bay, stocked with nondescript crates of plasteel, plastek, and armaplas with the varied foodstuffs. Very bog standard, and Neil explained the larger cargo bay was below decks. The interior veered left, which led into the life support systems, a room of light coloring with various purifying machines at work, periodically monitored by six crew men. After that, branching left and right were the torpedo systems, the gunwhale's being close to the bridge, and finally Neil led Tilda down a set of utility stairs. 

The main cargo bay was the size of a warehouse, and stocked like one as well. Forty spacers, men and women both, were hauling and loading, and though some were checking the stocks, they seemed to be a bit out of their depth. One older gentleman threw a datapad on the ground in frustration, and pointed at two female crew who nearly dropped their canister of promethium. A servitor rolled across the floor, seemingly lost by some trick of code, or perhaps things were so disorganized, it simply could not compute its next destination.

"You'll make sure this place is in top top shape." Neil informed her, and patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, Gantz has it all under control, and clearly you were smarter than him." Other than a few waves and calls of 'Captain!' there was little else to acknowledge save for the distressingly damaged stack shelves, though Tilda took this time to ask again where they were going next. 

"We're going to see a buyer for the Vigil, after that, though? Dealer's choice." He said. "I'll explain more later, but let's meet the navigator." His words were caught off by a small electric sparking sound, announcing the room down the last corridor. 

A soft, ethereal blue light pulsated as they entered the navigator's den. The room was large, octagonal in shape and expanded outward in segments, the widest area halfway between the floor and the ceiling, almost like a squished krak grenade. In the center was the lower half of the great pillar, surrounded by a railing, as it plunged beneath the floor into the main engines of the Rogue. The chamber had three floors and a spiral stairway to reach each, but the navigator was on the ground to meet them. He was a beautiful man, with a slim build and a fine chin, sculpted as carefully as the busts of Sanguinius himself. Decked in robes of blue and purple, he carried a blacksteel staff that harbored incandescent electricity, yet it did not touch his naked hand. His third eye was obscured by a thick, woven cloth. All was revealed when he turned from his contemplation to regard the newcomers.

"Hey Mal, just showing the new girl around." Neil casually greeted, glancing up at the makeshift spiral floor directly above them. 

"Captain," The navigator remarked imperiously, his voice as calm as the sea before a storm. "I foresaw your return."

"No, you didn't. Bonnie told me about the pool." Neil said with a grin. He whispered to Tilda. "His name is Malcador, like the Sigilite. Don't mention that bit, though.[2]"

Mal was silent for a moment. "I didn't think you wouldn't come back though, I just foresaw it would be under extenuating circumstances. But if you did, that means you got the Vigil. And this woman must be the..." He turned, and seemed as if he saw Tilda for the first time. He took her hand and kissed it, his voice low. "[i]extenuating circumstances[/i]..." 

"Careful, she's your new boss." Neil responded. Malcador blinked in shock and let her hand go, the would-be casanova struck speechless. Neil's grin grew bigger, shaking his head with a teasing bit of fake incredulity. "You didn't foresee that?"

[hr] 


[hider=Tilda's Log]
[1]I believe I have some authority to speak on the subject after my long and *ahem* storied association with him. It is safe to say even to myself, Neil is something of an anomaly, but it is also clear that, despite the evident insanity, he does have a method to his madness. His persona, though entirely himself, also has the plain purpose of a kind of misdirection to cause everyone around him to underestimate his abilities. The mere experience of hearing a clever remark escape his lips at one moment, and a completely nonsensical declaration next, is by its very nature, off-putting. He shows surprising mental alacrity in times of crises, is a formidable combatant, and shrewd in dealings, however his complete lack of respect, decorum, and sometimes wits, I find is generally meant to put others, even his allies, at odds with his full capabilities. The very fact he named his ship [i]Rogue[/i], a moniker that on the surface has just enough style to be considered, but just enough unintelligent obviousness to be eschewed by any sensible Rogue Trader, is proof enough. This smoke screen of buffoonery has saved his life, and truth be told, my own, on numerous occasions.

[2]To some of the stringiest members of my order, as well as the insane inquisitors of the Ordo Malleus, to mention the Sigilite in such a casual manner would have raised eyebrows. Then again, he was confiding in me.[/hider]