[IC] Warhammer 40K: Task Squad

[Sinerathin]

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End...

Soliaire 2 is a massive Hive World located in the Magna Four subsector. The planet's surface has been completely covered with buildings and structures, consisting of endless swathes of tall buildings and deep, urbanized ravines intermixed with giant factories spewing out thick clouds of sot and chemicals that blanket the lower surface, leaving a thick, ever-lasting mist to haunt the entire planet. Massive cathedrals, temples and monuments occasionally rise up from the sprawling urban mess and blocks, only to be dwarfed by utterly monolithic spires of the planet that journey far up into the sky and above the clouds. Thick, black clouds surround the planet, leaving the only reliable source of sunlight to those who live atop the massive spires that dot the urban hellscape, usually only being relegated to members of the upper middle class or higher.

As part of the 'Securis Lux' initiative involving the formation of Task Squads to stem the sector's growing security problems, you have been summoned to the visitor wing of Planetary Governor Alphelius Marximus' palace, a massive temple of a palace that reaches far above the clouds.



Having been flown to the governor's palace by the governor's own shuttles; the airspace around being strictly forbidden for any unauthorized vessels to enter; the group is brought into the massive halls of the eastern wing of the spire, also known simply as 'The visitor wing' with its own air hangar.

The visitor wing is a monumental, cathedral like structure built into the side of palace spire. It features a large and expansive hall adorned with intricate and grandiose baroque art; supported by giant, golden pillars that stretch up into beautiful arcs beneath the painted roof. On the eastern side of the hall, massive, towering windows replace the walls to give a panoramic view out across the layer of clouds shining white from the unblocked sunlight bathing down onto them.
Statues and massive paintings had littered the sides of the hallway you had walked through to reach the hall, featuring golden imagery of the Planet Governor Alphelious battling various foes, including a towering warboss in the Liberation of Soliaire 2 where the Imperium claimed the world 400 years ago, as well as a large paintwork showing off Alphelius leading his men against hordes of uncut thugs in the massive civil war almost 200 years ago that had cost the lives of over 12 billion people on the planet, which back then had been 40% of the world's total population. Stories of great battles and heroic victories had been etched into the gold plating, written in the style of poems.

As they entered the hall, the group is flanked on each side by two human-sized elite household guards wearing ornate, gold-trimmed power armor and full-face masks, wielding power weapon halberds and donned in exquisite emerald green silk cloaks that hang over their shoulders.

"Ahh, welcome to the house of Planetary Governor Alphelius Marximus the First, loyal servant of the Emperor of Terra, and benevolent lord and ruler of Soliaire 2."

A man would suddenly announce across the hall as he saw the group enter the hall. Right in front of the group; at the end of a long table which was no less than forty feet wide and hosting more empty chairs than the small group could ever hope to fill; stood a white haired young man who raised his arms to greet them.

Behind him, located in front of a giant gold statue of a ragged looking man wearing some lord commander's fatigues would be a giant screen which was currently black, lacking power.

"I am Sherpa Silverlain, member and servant of the governor's household. I will also be Alphelius' representative in the task squad." Sherpa would explain as he let the group approach the table, the household guards backing off and heading back towards the doors as they came closer to the long table.
"Please, take a seat. Preferably a bit closer. I do not wish to expend my voice needlessly."

Sherpa motioned towards the dozen of chairs closest to his end of the table. As the group came closer, the man's features became more readily apparent. In addition to his silver white hair which had been gathered into a ponytail running down to the back of his neck, his skin seemed almost ghostly pale, while the color of his irises was red. His lips were moved into a small smile as he watched them approach, while one hand rested on the back of his own chair at the end of the table.
He was wearing a thick, open and black leather trenchcoat, adorned with gold and silver linings across the hardened leather surface. Beneath the coat he wore an embellished black silk vest adorned with multiple decorative insignias, including the Lion head which was the symbol of the governor's house. Hanging down across his chest would be a heavier piece of metal jewelry, featuring an orange gem in the middle connected with various wires, and across his waist he wore a green emerald silk sash, with one end hanging down in front. At his forearm and lower legs he wore sets of inscribed plate armor. Beneath his coat, hanging at his side was a small, yet long plasma pistol.

"Since this is the first time many of us will have met, I would like you all to introduce yourselves. You may do so as you take your seat."

[Lord Coake]

Caius initially had no clue why he was being re-positioned to a task in Solaire 2. He had been pulled from a joint-training program on Cadia, working with guard regiments from over 200 worlds in order to synchronize tactics. He was brought aboard a frigate, made a somewhat smooth warp jump to the system, then rode to the surface in an elegant shuttlecraft. He made sure to have his four years worth of service ribbons, and his two medals emblazoned upon the chest of his uniform fatigues. The first medal was the Senior Marksmanship medal, awarded after he pulled off a seemingly impossible shot with his lasrifle. The other was a Distinguished Service Aquila, awarded when his scouting skills prevented the loss of nearly 1 million troops in an ambush. He also kept the autopistol awarded to him by his father holstered to his hip, and his Roth Pattern Lasgun and other supplies in a duffel bag. He admired the massive city-world of Solaire 2 as the shuttle landed, unaccustomed to such large buildings and constructs. He knew this would take some time to get used to.

---

Caius admired the Planetary Governor's home as he was guided through alongside several others. He kept to himself as he walked, wary of the others. When finally asked to introduce himself, he snapped to attention and saluted for a short moment, before relaxing slightly. "I am Corporal Caius Langston of the Espurn 115th Recon Infantry Imperial Guard Regiment. I've served four years as a Recon squad Vox Operator and Designated Marksman, and have seen combat on many worlds, including spending half a year on Armageddon, to assist with removal of Ork combatants in key areas. It is an honor to meet each of you." He saluted once more before taking a seat quietly.

[Jb]

Soliaire 2...Magna Four Sub-sector...Securis Lux...Planetary Governor Alphelius Marximus...Sherpa Silverlain.

Four over six months now, Appia Merula of the Callidus Temple had been navigating and mapping as much of the cityscape of this planet as she could. She had been doing so in the guise of a Sister Hospitaller - the very form she now inhabited, the bone white Hospitaller carapace she now wore, and the medical tools that she carried leisurely in one hand all adding to this flawless disguise; before coming to the planet ahead of the rest of the newly authorised 'Task Force', she had spent weeks studying the workings and beliefs of the Orders Hospitaller of the wider Adeptus Sororitas, as well as altering her appearance just so.

Where once would have stood a blonde Synskin-clad assassin, now there walked a silver-haired Sister of Healing from the Order of Our Guiding Throne. Where once her face may have seemed pleasing yet unnerving to the eye, it now resembled the soft and compassionate visage of an experienced healer from the Order - a certain Sister Hospitaller Maria Delforce, a member of her Order who would not be returning from her duties in the Calixis Sector but would live on in some way by this disguise. It had taken nearly a year to perfect this impersonation right down to the level of DNA, but now she walked among the sick and poor of the Soliaire Two ravine cities and healed or helped them as if she had doen so her entire life, many thanking her and blessing the name of the Emperor's servant who's face she now wore.

There were but two who knew of her true identity, that being the Planetary Governor himself, and the designated leader of the Task Force Sherpa Silverlain. All others had, and would, be kept completely in the dark until such time as her identity was required to be revealed...if it ever was. Even the former two had never seen her actual face, and she would do everything she could to keep it that way

Eventually, as with all the others, she had been summoned to the palace of the Governor...and knew that it was not a request.

To someone who had seen cities both of Mankind and Xenos origin, who had flitted from one side of the galaxy to the other, who had been to a thousand systems or more, and who had slain countless threats to the Imperium whilst striking from the shadows, the entire world of Soliaire Two - and even the Governor's vast cathedral of a palace, impressive as it might be to one who had not seen the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra - seemed quite dull or even boring. That was not to say that Appia, or Maria as she currently was, did not enjoy the view of rising spires and fine architecture peaking through the ever-present layer of smog below, the wind whipping through her hair as she peeked from within the confines of the shuttle bearing her toward the palace and her newest employer - she enjoyed all that celebrated the Emperor and the edifice of the Imperium, but when you've seen a hundred thousand monuments to His glory then you've seen most of them.

Once the shuttle had landed with a hiss of thrusters and a small jolt, the doors sliding to the side and allowing her petite frame of five feet and seven inches to exit the transport, a small wave to the pilot being given as she made her way deeper into the gaudy structure before her, she had already decided to proceed with all haste to the meeting point and ignore the feeling of sickliness she always got when faced with multiple reminders of ones own glories and victories over others; she imagined it was because of her station in life, one who neither sought nor gained any accolades or rewards for her services to the Emperor other than her own satisfaction at a job well done, not that she needed any. That sort of thing was for the Guard, the Navy and those that fought in the light of day rather than the concealing shroud of night.

At long last she entered the hall, alone and separate of the others due to her already being present on the planet, her armoured feet tapping against the floor as she moved toward what looked to be a pretty eclectic mix of individuals. She noted Sherpa quickly enough, standing tall and proud near what she assumed would be the currently blank briefing screen, dressed in all the finery that a member of the Governor's household could afford and looking almost daemonic with his pale flesh and red irises - had he not been a staunch servant of the Imperium, she may have had to snap his neck right there.

As it was, she walked over to an unoccupied seat only a few feet away from him, making sure she could see the rest of the group from where she sat, and waited for a certain Guardsman to make his introduction.

"A pleasure to meet you, Corporal Langston," she chimed with a perfect tone, the lilting voice of Maria like the trickling of soft water to the ear, her gentle and rounded features creasing as her thin lips shifted into a smile, "I am Sister Hospitaller Maria Delforce of the Order of Our Guiding Throne, healer and medic to the sick, wounded and meek," came the introduction in that same melodic voice, "and it is truly wonderful to meet you all! May the Emperor guide us in this endeavour, and keep us from harm...or as far as possible." A light chuckle accompanied this last remark, a small beam of sunshine glinting off one of the golden fleur de lys marking her armour as she took a seat, and her hands quickly making the sign of the Aquila across her small chest.

Introduction over, she waited silently in her seat, looking to the others with almost child-like green eyes and a similarly innocent and unassuming smile fixed in place.

[Blackbeard]

- The first steps of a Pilgrim -

It wasn’t unusual for Anomander to take chances, his perpetual paranoia forced him to keep moving lest he be found by the Astra Telepathica. He was hoping for something uncomplicated to serve as his escape but alas, no such opportunity presented itself. Sitting in the agile shuttle he mused as to what exact madness had convinced him to partake in a task force for the planetary governor, but without a quick answer for his question Anomander decided to watch as they approached instead. A colossal spire patched by light-filled windows arose like a mutilated finger from among the Gothic masonry of the buildings at its base, it pointed blasphemously at heaven assuring its residents status. For a brief moment, Anomander regretted what he might have started.

----------

The bitterly familiar clank of power armour bounced off the narrow corridor walls as Anomander kept pace at the back of this unlikely group. He quickly allowed his eyes to scan the gloriously painted ceiling. Indulgent as any other planetary palace. Anomander himself contrasted the grandiose nature of his surroundings, wearing a modest brown overall with the faded intricacy of pattern that descended shapelessly over his feet. As modest as it was it had served Anomander for many years, acquiring stains and tears it acted almost as a tapestry of his recent endeavors. Underneath the equally tattered hood his face was barely visible, though his eyes flickered defiantly like twin mirrors echoing any light that struck their surface.

As the walls stopped and the two ornate guards rolled to the periphery of Anomanders vision, a voice was heard that caused everyone to hesitate. Sherpa Silverlain, member and servant to the governor. Between the glance of paranoia as Anomander examined the room, and the few members still in front of him yet to move, it took a moment before a face was equated to the introductory voice. A man, still in the embrace of youth, fought the doubt of experience with gleaming white hair. He invited the troop of what Anomander previously assumed to be mercenaries to sit at the large, imposing table.

Encouraged to introduce themselves, a opportunity that one Caius Langston jumped at, Anomander took the brief moment of disregard he was gifted to pull his hood from his head. Hair of an unnatural grey shade spoiled a surprisingly fresh face. His skin, flush with a reddish hue, darkened in the crevices of his eyes and nose whilst not a single facial hair was allowed to blemish his strong jawline.
He grabbed the chairs manchette as if lowering himself into place, something that conflicted with his callow appearance. He paused, mid-act, as the melodic voice of Maria Delforce communicated her charisma. An indirect stare allowed Anomander a fringe glance at the supposed Sister hospitaller. A veiled grunt to himself decided that she not be what she seemed, a truth that made Anomander anxious. Taking a handful of the brown fabric of his robe, he folded it into his lap so he could sit comfortably. As the Sister hospitaller finished her inauguration with gratuitous glee, Anomander resolved to get his introduction out of the way.
“Anomander Sirin." he voiced. No more, no less. He had previously anticipated the risk that revealing his true name could endanger his liberty from the Astra Telepathica, but he ultimately decided that if such precautions were taken in his recapture then it wouldn’t matter if he used his name or not. He tucked his seemingly banal staff in the crook of the chairs arm, keeping it in place with the thin grasp of his lower fingers. He pondered for the few moments of silence that followed his discerning voice.

[Sinerathin]

Sherpa watched patiently with a soft smile on his face and his hands folded together as the three first members of the group made their introductions.

The group brought before him might seem like a strange collection, but it did not seem to phase Sherpa that much. He had seen some of the other task squads that had been given to his brothers before him. While the most common sight by far had been that of the gruff looking mercenary type; usually lacking insofar sanitation and hygiene was concerned; he had seen no small number of psykers and members of the mechanicum. Indeed, he had even seen an Ogryn in the palace earlier that day, though he had smelled it long before spotting it.

Yet between the Psyker and the secretive sister, the guardsman named Langston seemed the most normal of the two, if indeed not the most sane! Not that Sherpa would ever want himself be caught comparing anyone's sanity to that of a Psyker, which would be offensive at best!

"May the Emperor guide us in this endeavour, and keep us from harm...or as far as possible."

"Let us hope not, Sister, because harm is what we will seek on this mission." Sherpa would add with a friendly smile towards the Sister Hospitaller, as he turned his attention towards Anomander's own humble introduction. Sherpa simply nodded in acknowledgement, appearing to not seek to prod the Psyker with any further questions.

With most introduction out of the way, Sherpa moved his right hand towards a small console at the edge of the table where he stood.

"I am glad you all could come. It is regrettable that you had to see our glorious sector in such a state. But that is what we are all here to solve. As members of this Task Squad, you will all become instruments of order and justice across worlds fraught with chaos. Do your jobs well, and you will be rewarded, not only with a better conscience but riches and wealth as well. Perhaps one day some of you might even settle down in the sector and reap the good fruit you will sow in the coming days."

Sherpa paused, before pressing one of the buttons and the huge screen behind him flickered into life.

"But before we risk getting ourselves carried away by dreams of a future still unmade, let us return to reality."

As the green screen came on, it showed a mission profile titled "Revolution in the Depths". Smaller images of what looked like the sub-terrenian sector of Soliaire 2 appeared on the screen, showing static pictures of streets fraught by rebellion, mobs of furious dissidents clashing with lines of local arbiters, pictures of bomb blasts, and a picture of a dead arbiter torn apart by an explosion, his lower body missing.

And at the side of the screen, the image of a male Caucasian 36 year old rugged man appeared, with frazzled brown hair and scar running down the right side of his face. The look on his face was reminiscent of a man who had seen untold horrors, yet remained in a stone-faced, hard and unflinching motion. The picture was titled Rolf Devran.

"As some of you may have heard, the northmost sector of Soliaire 2 is suffering from extensive civil unrest. The unrest can be seen on the surface, but many parts of this hive world feature multiple city levels, some going under the planet's surface. Rolf Devran, a violent anarchist, dissident and would-be revolutionary has made the seventh sub level of the northern planet the heart of his movement. Local Arbiters have been unable to deal with his revolutionaries, who have fortified that level. They are numerous, well armed and convinced they are in the right, unwilling to yield to the Arbiter's imperial authority. Rolf Devran is even said to be working with a fallen priest, twisting the very teachings of the emperor and using it to gain further legitimacy for his fight."

Sherpa explained as he pointed up at the picture of Rolf Devran. Pressing the button on his console again, the screen switched to another picture, a map of the northern part of the Hive World viewed from the side where it showed the multiple levels, some of which indeed even went deep down into the earth in massive caves or in the form of buildings built upon buildings that had made their own underworld. There were in total 10 sectors. From the surface and down, the first 6 were green, signaling Arbiter control. 7 was red, signaling Rolf Devran's control. Level 8, 9 and 10 were all grayed out.

"Our primary objective will be to capture the leader of the revolution, Rolf Devran, and bring him back to this palace unharmed." Sherpa said, placing particular emphasize on the last word.
"My ship carries aboard it a special cryo-unit which we will use to preserve him in stasis for delivery to this palace. It also has a number of non-lethal weapons to make his capture easier, if any of you will need that."

Pausing for a moment, Sherpa watched the group to make sure they had all understood it, before; almost as an afterthought, he opened his mouth to speak again.

"Oh, and as for any of Rolf Devran's accomplices, we are to liquidate any we find with extreme prejudice. Anyone with the slightest association with Devran is a free target. His lieutenants, his friends, his followers, anyone who may have worked with him. They are not part of the main objective, but if we encounter any of them, we are to terminate them whenever possible. But do not forget, no harm can be allowed to befall Rolf Devran! If anyone tries to harm him, you have the Governor's full permission to use any means necessary to stop them, regardless of their affiliation! The governor's bureaucrats are more than capable of handling any political fallout that may arise, but do try to avoid it nonetheless."

Finally done, Sherpa looked out across the group.

" ... any questions?"

[Lord Coake]

Caius listened intently to the briefing, somewhat eager to go after this Rolf Devran. He knew that his skills and talents would likely help a large amount on this mission, as even in an urban environment, stealth and recon skills are invaluable. He occasionally eyed the others, seeing if he could discern anything about the other two who spoke. The Sister seemed normal enough, but the other one, the man, had an odd air about him. He knew to be cautious around people like him. Eventually, Sherpa would ask for any questions pertaining to the mission, Caius raised his hand and spoke. "I have one, sir. Is there a possible number to the amount of people Devran has under his control?" Caius leaned forward in his seat a bit, curious to hear the answer.

[Zetsuko]

Djura walked at the back of the group as they approached the table and were encouraged to introduced themselves. The first to do so was a Corporal Caius, giving a salute were he stood as he did, nothing to fancy. Caius's introduction was followed by that of a Sister Hospitaller, Maria Delforce, Djura thought she seemed...out of place, the non-militant healer didn't really fit with the rest of the taskforce unit, it was mildly suspicious but he payed little mind to it right now as a third member of the unit made and introduction...sort of, it was a Robed figured that spoke only a name, Anomander Sirin, suspicious for a different reason. Djura didn't care really, He kept his Serpenta close at hand, but he reasoned that they were at least all part of the same unit, regardless of whatever his behind the face of the Hospitaller or the hood of this Anomander.

He walked over to a seat and stood behind it, looking across the group before speaking "I am Djura Esumbaras, of Ryza Skitarii" with that he sat down and cast a glance at Homn followed by "The creature with me is called Homn" when he was done speaking he sat back in his chair and waited for Sherpa to explain what they were there for.

(pre-briefing post)

---

(post-briefing post)

Djura listened in silence at Sherpa briefed, their objectives were simple at least, Capture the rebel's leader and kill anyone else, he thought it would be best if he and Homn left the capture to the others while they handled most of the rebel resistance they face. While he had no questions about the mission himself, Caius did he asked about the number this Devran had under his control and, figuring it was worth knowing, Djura leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, waiting for the answer.

[Sinerathin]

Sherpa's eyes quickly jumped over to Caius before the guardsman had even seemingly begin to speak, nodding to give an indication that he was listening.

"I have one, sir. Is there a possible number to the amount of people Devran has under his control?"

Taking a moment to think, Sherpa gently shook his head.

"To be honest, no. The best we have is conjecture." Sherpa explained with his normal calm voice. Taking a step to the side, he would continue to look at Caius.

"You have to remember, Langsten, this is a civil war. The line between friend and foe, indeed, between combatant and civilian is blurred, and sometimes not even there. Anyone with any private sympathy for his cause is a potential follower. Like most civil wars, many of our enemies do not carry arms. Many of his followers are unknown, providing subtle services ranging from minor donations, supplies, lodging and logistics; to thinks as innocuous as selling his cause to their friends and colleagues. And usually, they are only a small step away from becoming potential fighters themselves."

Pausing again, Sherpa would chew on his lower lip.

" ... the closest we have to a rough estimate of his fighters; men and women who regularly fight for him and don't just pick up a rifle or bomb to participate in a single op or ambush; is around 6 million for the northern part of the planet. It is a rough read, as they mostly in hiding and spread out across large areas, preferring to operate in small cells with a few exceptions, such as the siege of Level 7 in the underground area known as Asphyx."

Sherpa said, motioning towards the screen behind him where the map of the underground was still visible on the screen, with its 10 levels.

"Most of his amateurs, or so called 'freedom fighters' are basically just poorly trained and ill-disciplined civilians who became soldiers overnight. But despite their lack of training, they are well motivated and supposedly very well supplied with weapons and equipment. As for the core of his army, it consists of a professional mercenary force gathered from across the sector. Though in the minority, they feature an organized fighting force filled by veterans with more than a millennium of experience put together."

[Lord Coake]

Caius nodded in acknowledgement as Sherpa explained the situation regarding Devran's numbers of followers. Sherpa gave a detailed answer, which intrigued Caius on how detailed their intel actually was. Caius noted that their enemy would be near limitless on this mission, but was still sure they could handle this without much issues. Eventually, Sherpa would finish, and Caius nodded in thanks. "I appreciate the answer, sir. I have no more questions, though I'm not sure if anyone else does..." Caius eyed the others to see if anyone else would speak, interested in hearing what the rest of this rag-tag group had to say.

[Blackbeard]

----------

It did not take long for Silverlain to get to the point, he began to elaborate on their situation to which Anomander could only listen. It was when he proposed the idea of settling down on Soliaire that Anomander showed any emotion, smiling to himself in the irony.
Long desensitized to the types of images that accompanied the mission file, Anomander looked upon the details with dead eyes. He was not interested in quashing rebellions, but it served his purpose. The arbiters seemed to be having a particularly difficult time with one Rolf Devran. An Anarchist, as he was so dubbed. The title only displeased Anomander. People claiming to be anarchists simply wanted to rock the boat when they weren't getting things their own way, none truly knew what it meant to cause utter chaos, simply for the sake of doing so. His eyes passed over many pictures of maps, individuals and riots. As Silverlain explained the involvement of a priest Anomander immediately thought to have the situation evaluated.
Although it was wrong to actually call the Emperor a god, many believed him so. As such religious cults would often rise to the defense of their would-be savior. Religion, as Anomander saw it, was simply a way to control people. There were beings powerful enough to be considered gods in the galaxy, Anomander had seen proof of that, however to believe said beings had anything other than selfish intentions was foolhardy.

The presentation continued as planned, but roughly halfway through Silverlain caught Anomanders attention. 'Unharmed'. This man who had started a revolution, whom had acted against the rule of Marximus himself and had struck blows against the Arbites, was to be spared? Shuffling slightly in his seat Anomanders mind began to play with the various reasons that could unravel the governments intent. He must be worth something to them? Was he previously a man of note? did he have something in his possession? Or could it even be a matter of family? Anomander found an equilibrium in these situations, he hated not knowing what was really going on, but he coequally enjoyed the chance of discovering hidden knowledge.
The emphasis Silverlain put on not harming Devran gave Anomander another problem. If things got heated and a fight ensued, Anomander might not be under complete control of his actions. He couldn't guarantee that Devran would be spared his unavoidably wild powers. He relented that he would have to take a back seat on this occasion, at least as far as Devran himself was considered, if the pictures were anything to go by there would be apt opportunity to deal with the cultists under his regime.

As the questions and answers proceeded Anomander resumed his distant stare at the boards of information. This assignment seemed relatively mundane but something about it, particularly about this Devran, unnerved Anomander. As if he had to prepare himself, Anomander assumed that something would present itself during this task, something that would bring to light the true nature of Silverlain and the man he called his governor.

[Jb]

Appia...Maria...did her best to look interested in the vast quantities of information that were being given to them by this aid of the Governors. It was not all that hard, in fact it had become as simple as breathing to control her facial muscles, each and every one of them, and to now keep her face in a constant state of pious thoughtfulness was as easy and unconscious as blinking. The reason she had to try and look interested, as if she had never heard or seen this information before, was that she had! Everything being regurgitated to the group now she already knew, every question that they might have a question about it was likely that she also knew the answer to, the Officio Assassinorum being nothing if not thorough in the briefing of their operatives.

Things seemed to be going reasonably well thus far; she was here, she was now a part of the group, and from what she could tell she was under suspicion from at least a couple of her temporary comrades, although most of that attention was given to the more obvious elephant in the room, which came in the rather disconcerting form of their psyker. Not to say that the hulking brute known as 'Homn' was any less of an abomination, the tech-adept leading it like some form of macabre hunting dog on a leash.

"Master Silverlain," spoke the Callidus agent through her mouthpiece, the voice of Maria as soft as angels taking flight, "I am but a healer, and here in just such a capacity," she smile, "but as a devout servant of the God-Emperor..." the sign of the Aquila crossed her chest, "...I am curious as to why such a rebel, such a threat to the Imperium as this 'Rolf Devran', would be allowed to live?" Her eyelids fluttered in a most innocent and ignorant way, yet not so much that it seemed over-the-top, "should he not instead be purged? His soul given the Emperor's mercy?"

It amused her inside that she really did not care as to the answer, she would do her duty and that was the end of it, but she knew that the question was one hovering like a question mark above the group. Then again, she was wondering how Sherpa would defend his masters position on allowing a man like Rolf, clearly a nusiance and an outright rebel, to remain breathing while all his underlings - as well as the misguided common folk who had taken up with him - were fair game.

[Sinerathin]

Sherpa was quick to turn his gaze over to Maria the moment she asked her question, simply nodding when he had heard the question.

"First and foremost because it is the will of the planetary governor," Sherpa answered simply, having expected the question.
"And his reasons are his own. I do not have any information as to what grand plan my lord may have for the miscreant, whether he wishes to parade him through the highest spires in chains or organize a spectacular execution."

He spoke in a calm fashion, remaining his neutral expression which he had kept ever since the start of the meeting.

Looking at the Callidus agent, Sherpa felt a sense of amusement at how the assassin played her innocent charade, and the contrast in which it had to what knowledge or assumptions were going on inside the head of the person behind Maria. He knew the Officio Assassinorum were masters of information and deduction, the intel profession being a natural partner to the art of murder.

"My lord does appreciate secrecy, and he does not reveal his plans until they are ripe for execution. That is how he has managed to rule this sector up until now. As for me, a member of his household; I do not ask his reasons. I merely follow his will."

Smiling, Sherpa scanned the rest of the group, eventually resting his eyes on Maria.

"Any further questions before we depart?"

[Sinerathin]

Waiting through the silence, Sherpa would finally slam his palm down onto the table with a satisfied smile.

"Excellent, no more questions it seems." He said, quickly raising his left arm to look at a small, golden watch hanging at his wrist.
"And it's still 40 minutes until the next group shows up. We're ahead of schedule, and I like that!"

Turning off the monitor with one press of a button, Sherpa would reach down behind the table to pick up a dark, pitch black onyx rod carved with silver runes and inscriptions all around it. Using it like a walking cane, Sherpa would begin to walk around the long table with it, motioning for the rest of the group to get on their feet.

"Ladies, gentlemen and... " Sherpa paused, glancing at Homn for a moment.
" ... and mutants... please follow me!"

Those familiar with the technology would recognize the pitch black rod Sherpa was using as a cane to be in fact an unactivated null-rod, a powerful and rare device said to be capable of completely nullifying the power of the warp around it.

"Our ship... or "ride" as they like to call it in the underhive, heh." Sherpa muttered, chuckling softly at his own joke."
" ... is located in the eastern hangar. Not far from here. Nonetheless, let's not tarry."

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Leading the party through the many corridors of the palace, it would turn out to be a surprisingly empty place. Aside from the grandiose art and massive pillars.

Perhaps the most frequent sight in the palace would be the odd, brainless servitor marching around in the grand hallways, constantly looking for any speck of dust or dirt which they cleaned up with mechanical efficiency. Even the servitors of the palace were dressed in elaborate, golden robes over their vat grown muscles and cyborg augmentations, making the brainless creations look more alike their baroque surroundings.

Finally however, they would arrive in the hangar, the same one they had arrived in just hours earlier.

This time though, they would pass down through the lower levels, passing groups of adepts of the mechanicum who were clustered together. But rather than wearing the traditional red robes common to their order, these wore sickly green robes instead, with various medical tubes and tanks fitted across their bodies, and elaborate mechadendrites fitted with syringes and scalpels.

As they passed them, the adepts turned to look at the group their cold, iron masks. Sherpa looked at them in return, his smile gone, but said nothing.

Arriving in the lower level of the hangar, they would enter a large, metal reinforced hangar. Lined along the walls were numerous valkyries, some being transported around on smaller threaded vehicles. Hanging from the roof, being lifted by heavy metal cranes were numerous lightning fighters hanging dormant. Lined in the middle of the hangar were a series of black, gold trimmed medium sized spaceships, custom built for the Governor's own personnel and named "Equinox Shuttles". Spanning sixty feet in length, thirty feet in height and forty feet in width, they were mounted on massive iron legs and with a loading ramp at the bottom. The head of the shuttles were extra armored with heavy sheaths of gold painted plates formed like wings protruding on either side, and on each side of the ship, a slogan was written in large, brass letters: "For our lord and his Emperor".

Most of the other humanoids in the hangar were servitors, though there were a few adepts of the mechanicum, these ones wearing the traditional red robes as opposed to the green ones of the ones seen earlier.

"There is our ride." Sherpa would announce, motioning towards the nearest Equinox Shuttle labeled 62 with giant golden letters at the side.
"Magnificent isn't she? There are few vessels in the galaxy that could ever outrun her. Coupled with top-notch shielding and stealth systems, she is state of the art in VIP escort and protection."

Sherpa added, his smile having returned to his face.

" ... and comfort, of course! You'll each be afforded your very own room. Though... " Sherpa paused, looking at the creature Homn.
"He might have to be relegated to the cargo area."