vFear

Shadowrun: The Big Easy

Also interested, but I understand yall have a bunch of interest already and may not have the room.

The Emperor's Duty: A Warhammer 40K RP

Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice
^{In orbit above Yunnalin V}

---

In a room twice defaced - once in the pursuit of depravity, then once again to restore it to the God-Emperor's grace - a choir of prayers reached out, gently embracing it with all its occupants within.

For as many priests and aides that sung and preached, there were only a few more attending. The ongoing sermon drew few in number, yet it was no less important. The men and women in the room, agents of the Inquisition all, had only recently completed the process of tearing down and disposing of the depraved interiors and accessories of the very same space station they stood in. Without mentioning a loyal servant's right to attend a sermon, there must be no room for doubt in the minds of the servants of the Holy Inquisition. Perhaps above all in the room in this regard came Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice: apprentice to Inquisitor Hera, loyal servant of the God-Emperor, and a mutant.

The nature of Stanislaus' birth, mind, and body alike are all unseemly, stained by the vast impurity of the immaterium. To be tied to it alone is to risk the very lives of the many, but to draw power from it is the act of a madman. All the good such a vile mutant might do is die in the God-Emperor's name to extend his light to the countless worlds under his ward. Yet for Stanislaus, with the blessing of the God-Emperor, there is yet another way. Through tireless service, with the sacrifice of a thousand of his fellow witches and the blood of heretics beyond number, he might redeem himself in the eyes of the God-Emperor. For his redemption to be true, he must not falter. It's for these very reasons that even in a room of the Emperor's most loyal servants, the feeling of eyes boring into him is almost constant. It is his reality and it is a reality that drives him onwards.

"Interrogator..." came a meek voice, whispering in Stanislaus' ear. It was a voice he recognized immediately: only his autosavant, Birgitte, had a voice so gentle yet just vaguely robotic He cracked one eye open and turned his bald head - with a scalp covered in tattoos depicting images of his faith, a neat beard, and the Imperial Aquila displayed on his forehead with discolored, scarred skin - to glance sideways at Birgitte. A cascade of cables and steel protrudes from her robes and sprawls over her skin, including both her eyes and mismatched fingers. Braided hair slides between the cacophony of wires while a servo-arm holds up an almost comedically large tome made from a mix of cogitator and parchment, which she idly scrawls in as she whispers. "...Inquisitor Hera has called for you. I've held it for your prayer, but-.. ah-.." Stanislaus abruptly pushing to a stand mid-sentence, quietly enough as not to interrupt the sermon yet decisively enough to move with purpose, twisted Birgitte's sentence into a series of stammers.
"Speak, Birgitte," Stanislaus began, his lips unmoving yet his voice reverberating within her head, "you need not fear service. Our lord calls for haste?" For many in Stanislaus' retinue, the sensation of having a voice projected into their heads was certainly not foreign, but certainly not welcome either. Silence stood between the pair until they left the makeshift church. With some idle taps into the cogitator of her unwieldy tome, Inquisitor Hera's voice moved through to Stanislaus' microbead.

"Stanislaus. Prepare your retinue and report to the shuttle bay of this ship. You have another chance to prove yourself to the Emperor. I will explain once you arrive."

A simple enough order.
"The notice-to-move I set was five minutes, correct, Birgitte?" Stanislaus asked, this time with his tongue, as he glanced over his shoulder towards her while starting to pace down the corridor.
"Y-Yes, interrogator." she replied, as stiff as someone could be while visibly anxious.
"Summon the retinue to the shuttle bay. I expect them there in five minutes."
"Your will be done, interrogator." This time, instead of being stammered, the words spilled out at velocity. As Stanislaus turned his head back to face his front, his pace turned into a stride as he made way for the shuttle bay. Birgitte paced awkwardly for a moment before speaking once again.

A few moments late, Stanislaus' voice passed along the channel to Inquisitor Hera, monotonous as is standard:
"Your will be done, Inquisitor."

Sergeant Denis Agletdinova
^{In orbit above Yunnalin V}

---

With a thud and a quiet sigh, Denis dropped into his seat and rubbed at his forehead. His age continued to manifest itself in different ways by the day. As if his graying hair wasn't incriminating enough, the aches and pains across his body only continue to get worse.
"Your vigor wanes, Sergeant." observed a disembodied feminine voice to his right. If it were any other voice, he might consider reaching out to bat it away.
"My vigor's been waning for years, sister..." Denis replied as he, after briefly rubbing at his eyes, lifted his head up to face Allane Hellenboldus. The pair shared a quiet chuckle, finding relief and solidarity in the shared struggle of their age.

It's no secret to anyone in the retinue that Denis has become, whether he likes it or not, something of a father figure. Most of the retinue - all except him and the sister beside him, really - are all young scions of some pedigree or another with something to prove, Stanislaus included; that's without mentioning most of the retinue being sourced from the Schola Progenium in some capacity or another. Even then, it's no secret that he can't really help himself. The career thrust upon him never allowed him to have children, but somewhere deep down, even he knows that he's embraced Stanislaus and some of the others as his own. Not that his stubborn self will ever admit it, of course.

As Denis thumbed at his eye to flick out some gunk, he turned his head to look at Allane. The vague sunken lines in her face paired with her buzzcut, bleached hair had become something of a comfort for him. If he was the father of the retinue, then Allane had to be the older sister. While her age didn't quite threaten his and she most definitely does have something to prove, she's taken on something of a mentoring role quite willingly - certainly more willingly than he has. As she's explained before, there are few better ways to purify the sins of a sister than to teach and guide; short of incinerating the enemies of the Emperor, anyway. In many ways, he was grateful to her for her solidarity and her shoulder in trying times. So much so that, as much as the thought made him shuffle uncomfortably, it may well be time to admit it.

"Sister, I think it's time that-.." Denis began, only to be interrupted by the screech of chatter in his microbead.
"Uh- attention:" began Birgitte, seemingly speaking on the move. "Interrogator Di Felice expects us in the shuttle bay in five minutes." Denis let out a frustrated grunt as he pressed himself to a stand.
"Hold that thought, I suppose." Denis grumbled as he started his way for the door.
"Tell me later." Allane affirmed. She was already upstanding when she heard Birgitte talking on the move. There was no doubt between them that it was time again.

The Emperor's Duty: A Warhammer 40K RP

Inquisitorial retinue of Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice

Faction name: The Holy Ordo Hereticus of the Emperor's Inquisition.
Force name: Inquisitorial Retinue of Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice.

---

Leader name: Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice.
Direct superior: Inquisitor Hera.
Leader biography: Stanislaus, like many others before him, finds his earliest complete memories contained within the halls of his Schola Progenium in his plain grey garb. Supposedly, his parents both were talented officers of the Astra Militarum, who romantically shared their deaths commanding a desperate defensive against witches and heretics. There was always little more than rare photographs to confirm such a background, but what did it truly matter? His parents could have been a great number of people, whether admirable or not, and he still would have been raised in the halls of the Progenium. In his early life, his priority was simple: to train, to serve the Emperor well, and to avoid the ire of his betters.

Classrooms led to drill yards and drill yards led to classrooms. It takes extraordinary circumstances to have memories of classes in theology and leadership blur with memories of drills and sprints, but they blurred together all the same. While he was perhaps resentful at first, he came to peace with his lot in life over time. After all, it was an honor to be gifted with the opportunity to serve the God-Emperor so well and it was all he knew. Such a conclusion made it all the more tragic when his psychic mutation manifested itself shortly after he reached it, to the undeniable disgust of his betters. For the transgression of the nature of his birth, he was stowed in a cell to await the notorious black ships.

Even when stowed in a damp cell and scarcely fed, Stanislaus was silent. He had spent a lifetime being trained to bow to his betters, and his imprisonment did little to change the habit. By his perception, indoctrinated as he was into the Imperial Creed, it was fair. To tolerate the witch is nothing short of heresy, which assessment from Telepathica adepts only confirmed he was. Come the passing of some manner of time, blurred from such a time inside a rigorously quarantined cell, the black ships eventually came and the sisters of silence collected him. As he learned in the cells aboard the black ship, he would surely die to ensure the God-Emperor could live on. His lot had led him to a cruel fate, but it was a fate he was willing to accept nevertheless. That was until adepts of the Telepathica aboard the black ships concluded that, with due credit to the training at the Progenium, Stanislaus may well have the fortitude to make a sanctioned psyker of the Imperium.

So, as his training begun, Stanislaus found himself with a new guy. He had committed a horrible crime with his birth as a mutant, but he might redeem himself and honor his heroic parents through service. His tireless commitment to his studies and stubborn faith in the God-Emperor spawned from his studies in the Progenium impressed not only his teachers but passing agents of the Inquisition as well. Natural progression led to his prompt reassignment to an Ordo Hereitcus inquisitorial retinue as an acolyte. As it happened, a psyker of fortitude would be necessary to uproot traitorous witches and seek heresy where it may lurk.

Stanislaus moved from retinue to retinue as the tides of the byzantine politics of the Inquisition ebbed and flowed. His determination never faltered and his faith never shirked. After some years of service, it was in the service of Inquisitor Hera that his contributions, his faith, and his skills were all recognized at once. It was subtle at first: he was questioned more rigorously, held to account beyond his peers, and given nigh-impossible tasks as well as the means to achieve them. While no doubt challenging, it was the first true step towards his goal: to redeem himself for his unseemly birth. He met his first true chance to prove his worth in a determined yet sluggish stride. So began his journey towards becoming an Inquisitor himself: so began his apprenticeship to Inquisitor Hera.

Little more than three years have passed since Stanislaus began his apprenticeship. For a man raised to quietly how his head and respect his betters, the transition to seeking the truth and asking hard questions was a difficult one, but one he has come to embrace. Investigations come and go, heretics are found and dragged kicking and screaming to the God-Emperor's justice, and with the blood of a thousand unsanctioned witches, he might one repay the debt of his own birth to the God-Emperor.

---

Troop count: 10.
Extraordinary troops:
Stanislaus Di Felice, Ordo Hereticus Interrogator, force leader. Stanislaus is a sanctioned psyker and an aspiring inquisitor in the tutelage of the uncompromising Inquisitor Hera. His skill set focuses on the process of investigation and the application of his warp-derived powers to uproot and banish the witch, the heretic, and the mutant. His prowess with intrigue and skills-at-arms are relevant but ultimately secondary. In relation to Inquisitor Hera, Di Felice often plays the role of a personal bloodhound who is tasked with using his psychic abilities to seek, flush out, and condemn the Inquisitor's foes.

"Scrutiny", psyber-eagle. Scrutiny is a psy-familiar - specifically, a psyber-eagle - that is psychically bonded with Interrogator Di Felice. While not the largest or most grand eagle, Scrutiny is undeniably one of the grandest additions to the inquisitorial retinue. While Scrunity has little direct combat application, the psychic link gives Stanislaus a definitive advantage in his awareness and an undeniable enhancement to his psychic abilities. Scrutiny was given to Di Felice as a gift from a sect of the Adeptus Mechanicus after Di Felice successfully ensured the interests of local Magos in the course of a prior investigation.

Willem von Toor, techpriest enginseer. Willem is an enginseer of the Adeptus Mechanicus that has been indefinitely assigned to the retinue of Interrogator Di Felice. In the retinue, Willem is the expert consultant regarding matters of machines and the machine spirit. Willem is also responsible for managing relations with local Adeptus Mechanicus Magos and representing their interests, as well as assisting with interrogation and torture. Willem originally joined Di Felice's retinue temporarily when Di Felice was involved with the same investigation that resulted in Scrutiny being gifted to him. After the investigation was closed and realized, Willem, his Magos, and Inquisitor Hera concluded it would be prudent for Willem to remain with the retinue.

Parasha Gorchakov, chirurgeon. Parasha is a civilian hiver chirurgeon that has been recruited to the retinue of Interrogator Di Felice on the authority of the Holy Inquisition. In the retinue, she is responsible for the medical analysis of reporting in the course of investigations, providing medical aide to the retinue, and assisting in torture. Parasha was formerly a senior chirurgeon working as a part of a humanitarian operation in the war-affected regions of an Imperial world who, when assaulted by heretics, mustered the chirurgeons and successfully held a desperate defense, albeit with high casualties. On the merit of her skills and her steadfast dedication to the God-Emperor, she was recruited by Di Felice to assist his retinue.

Birgitte Winterswijk, sage autosavant. Birgitte is an autosavant that was recruited through a mundane application to the Adeptus Administratum. In the retinue, she is responsible for storing, processing, and providing any and all information as would be relevant to the interrogator's activities, such as citing local laws, producing relevant statistics and observations, and taking notes during interrogations. Remarkably, she has no combat application.

Bruna D'Andrea, navigator. Bruna is a young navigator of House Brabazon who joined Di Felice's retinue in order to seek opportunities to restore the glory of her navigator house and reforge star charts across the light of the astronomican. While Di Felice relies on a variety of psykers to continue to impart wisdom on the warp to him, Bruna - who can interpret the warp with her third eye - is perhaps the most instrumental mentor and advisor on matters of the warp that Di Felice has. In addition, Di Felice relies on her to mask their presence as psykers as well as to find witches and insights where they may hide.

Lagmann Eftang Mellem, crusader. Lagmann is a young crusader who joined the retinue of Di Felice in order to seek opportunities to prove himself to the recruiting crusader houses. While he has few utility applications, his steadfast devotion to the God-Emperor and the strength of his arms are undeniable. In the retinue, he is responsible for ensuring the safety of Di Felice, forming the unassailable frontline of the retinue in combat, and putting uncovered heretics to the sword.

Allane Hellenboldus, sister oblatia. Allane is a Sororitas of quite some years who joined the retinue of Di Felice in order to seek enemies of the God-Emperor and the Ecclesiarchy far and abroad to purge in the God-Emperor's name. Much like Lagmann, her devotion is far and beyond that of the common man, with all the more benefit of her battle experience as a daughter of the emperor and the fury of her conviction in the pursuit of redemption. She swore the pentient oath on behalf of a former sister and lifelong friend who fell in battle while breaking rank to retreat. Through the penitent oath sworn on her sisters behalf, she hopes that she might redeem her sins in the eyes of the God-Emperor.

Denis Agletdinova, veteran inquisitorial stormtrooper. Sergeant Agletdinova is a veteran inquisitorial stormtrooper who joined the retinue at the request of Di Felice. In the retinue, Denis is responsible for putting the foes of Inquisitor Hera and the interrogator to the sword, as well as to teach Di Felice the intricacies of infantry combat and command.

"The Third Thorn of the Great Angel", death cult assassin. The Third Thorn is an elusive and pious death cult assassin who was recruited from the "Rose of the Martyr", a sanguinary death cult with established ties to the Ordo Hereticus. The woman is an enigma, from the strokes of her movements to the gaze of her eyes. As is common for sanguinary death cults, she is obsessed with vampiric rituals and the art of the kill, much to the ire of the puritan Hera and Di Felice. With consideration to her uncanny tact for stealth and assassination, alongside her all-consuming devotion to the Saint Sanguinius, it is convenient to overlook her esoteric behaviours. Notably, Di Felice is currently petitioning for her to be sent to the Officio Assassinorium for further training, although his current petitions have yet to receive a response.

Extraordinary equipment:
Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice carries a condemnor boltgun, a force sword, and a stylised but ultimately plain dagger. He wears a mix of stylised master-crafted carapace armour and witch hunter leathers topped with a psychic hood in his daily attire.

Willem van Toor carries an Omnissian power axe and a plain power pistol in conjunction with his sanctified power armour and techpriest robes. He also bears a servo arm integrated into his being.

Parasha Gorchakov doesn't traditionally wear armour but often wear witch hunter leathers, which affords some small measure of protection. In addition to her medical equipment, she carries a pair of stub pistols which she wields together, which reflect her background as an underhiver.

Bruna D'Andrea wears a breastplate styled to the motifs of her navigator house in conjunction with her robes which, while largely ceremonial, offer some measure of her protection. She carries her navigators stave and a laspistol.

Lagmann Eftang Mellem wears his master-crafted carapace armour, which includes a full helmet, and crusader robes with pride, in conjunction with his surpression shield and power sword.

Allane Hellenboldus, with due thanks of her penitent oath bearing another's sins, still wears her Sororitas power armour. She carries a combi-flamer and a dagger on her person.

Denis Agletdinova wears a complete set of Adeptus Tempestus carapace armour and equipment. In addition to a plasma pistol and a dagger, he makes use of a variety of weapons, such as hotshot weapons, melta guns, and plasma guns.

The Third Thorn wears little in the way of genuine armour. Instead, she cycles through clothing to help her blend in with her environment; whether that be civilian attire or sleek stealth suits. She has a particular hatred for lewd and improper clothing in death cults, which she claims disgraces the Saint Sanguinius and the God-Emperor. She primarily wields a pair of master-crafted power swords, which are designed in such a way to be short and reasonably concealable. She also wields a pair of daggers, a variety of toxins, and a needle pistol; although she makes a point of rarely using the needle pistol, as the toxins "disgrace the rose" and "make it unsafe to pray with the corpse of a kill".

---

Reason for selection:
As Inquisitor Hera's apprentice, it is only natural that Di Felice shadows and assists her with uprooting heretics and witches wherever she may go. This is all the more relevant where a planetary governor is summarily executed by the Inquisition, for there is surely grand heresy afoot. In reality, this truth goes as far as to establish that his own retinue is merely an extension of hers, but as long as they remain useful to her ends, they may be allowed to remain organised as they are.

Relationships:
[ Inquisitor Hera - Loyal ]: "Inquisitor Hera is a shining example of the true purpose of the Inquisition. No heretic is safe, no matter how high and how lowly, and no ends justify heresy as the means. It is difficult to describe how grateful I am for her tutelage nor the opportunity to redeem my abhorrent, sorcerous mutation in the service to the Inquisition. Should I ever graduate from her tutelage, I only hope that I might become an inquisitor that she might be proud of."

[ Adepta Sororitas - Affectionate ]: "Never have I met such an organisation so pure of will and committed to the success of the holy God-Emperor's demise as the Adepta Sororitas. Their prowess, whether at arms or in scholarly affairs, is undeniable. Even when faced with such a dire charge, the Ordo Hereticus is truly blessed to be accompanied by the Adepta Sororitas."

[ Adeptus Arbites - Approving ]: "To uphold Imperial Law, from the courthouse to the underhive, is an admirable and honourable charge. The Imperium would truly be distraught without an organisation such as the arbites and arbitrators. Only seldom have I ever encountered difficulties when working alongside these talented men and women."

[ Adeptus Tempestus - Approving ]: "Any true man would be almost in vain to question the prowess of the Adeptus Tempestus. Truly, the Adeptus Tempestus form a reliable scalpel with which to cut away heresy where it may fester. Such is certain for any fair graduate of the Schola Progenium."

[ Astra Militarum - Approving ]: "To question the contribution of the Astra Militarum to the Imperium may well be tantamount to heresy. There is scant a conflict in our besieged Imperium where the guard does not hold. May those many souls lost find peace in their martyrdom in the God-Emperor's service."

[ Skitarii - Reluctant, but approving ]: "While the Adeptus Mechanicus themselves may be as admirable as they are, to permit a god besides the God-Emperor with such an undeniably powerful force bears due concern. Need not mention, at what point does a man flirt with abominable intelligence in the pursuit of greater efficiency?"

[ Assassins - Reluctant, but approving ]: "Should any man commit half the atrocities that the Third Thorn does, I would surely have them shot. Yet, the contribution of the assassins to the Imperial cause through skills well beyond my own is frankly undeniable. Inquisitor Hera, the great example she is, believes they are acceptable in the pursuit of purity, so such means are surely acceptable."

The Emperor's Duty: A Warhammer 40K RP

Inquisitorial retinue of Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice

Faction name: The Holy Ordo Hereticus of the Emperor's Inquisition.
Force name: Inquisitorial Retinue of Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice.

---

Leader name: Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice.
Direct superior: Inquisitor Hera.
Leader biography: Stanislaus, like many others before him, finds his earliest complete memories contained within the halls of his Schola Progenium in his plain grey garb. Supposedly, his parents both were talented officers of the Astra Militarum, who romantically shared their deaths commanding a desperate defensive against witches and heretics. There was always little more than rare photographs to confirm such a background, but what did it truly matter? His parents could have been a great number of people, whether admirable or not, and he still would have been raised in the halls of the Progenium. In his early life, his priority was simple: to train, to serve the Emperor well, and to avoid the ire of his betters.

Classrooms led to drill yards and drill yards led to classrooms. It takes extraordinary circumstances to have memories of classes in theology and leadership blur with memories of drills and sprints, but they blurred together all the same. While he was perhaps resentful at first, he came to peace with his lot in life over time. After all, it was an honor to be gifted with the opportunity to serve the God-Emperor so well and it was all he knew. Such a conclusion made it all the more tragic when his psychic mutation manifested itself shortly after he reached it, to the undeniable disgust of his betters. For the transgression of the nature of his birth, he was stowed in a cell to await the notorious black ships.

Even when stowed in a damp cell and scarcely fed, Stanislaus was silent. He had spent a lifetime being trained to bow to his betters, and his imprisonment did little to change the habit. By his perception, indoctrinated as he was into the Imperial Creed, it was fair. To tolerate the witch is nothing short of heresy, which assessment from Telepathica adepts only confirmed he was. Come the passing of some manner of time, blurred from such a time inside a rigorously quarantined cell, the black ships eventually came and the sisters of silence collected him. As he learned in the cells aboard the black ship, he would surely die to ensure the God-Emperor could live on. His lot had led him to a cruel fate, but it was a fate he was willing to accept nevertheless. That was until adepts of the Telepathica aboard the black ships concluded that, with due credit to the training at the Progenium, Stanislaus may well have the fortitude to make a sanctioned psyker of the Imperium.

So, as his training begun, Stanislaus found himself with a new guy. He had committed a horrible crime with his birth as a mutant, but he might redeem himself and honor his heroic parents through service. His tireless commitment to his studies and stubborn faith in the God-Emperor spawned from his studies in the Progenium impressed not only his teachers but passing agents of the Inquisition as well. Natural progression led to his prompt reassignment to an Ordo Hereitcus inquisitorial retinue as an acolyte. As it happened, a psyker of fortitude would be necessary to uproot traitorous witches and seek heresy where it may lurk.

Stanislaus moved from retinue to retinue as the tides of the byzantine politics of the Inquisition ebbed and flowed. His determination never faltered and his faith never shirked. After some years of service, it was in the service of Inquisitor Hera that his contributions, his faith, and his skills were all recognized at once. It was subtle at first: he was questioned more rigorously, held to account beyond his peers, and given nigh-impossible tasks as well as the means to achieve them. While no doubt challenging, it was the first true step towards his goal: to redeem himself for his unseemly birth. He met his first true chance to prove his worth in a determined yet sluggish stride. So began his journey towards becoming an Inquisitor himself: so began his apprenticeship to Inquisitor Hera.

Little more than three years have passed since Stanislaus began his apprenticeship. For a man raised to quietly how his head and respect his betters, the transition to seeking the truth and asking hard questions was a difficult one, but one he has come to embrace. Investigations come and go, heretics are found and dragged kicking and screaming to the God-Emperor's justice, and with the blood of a thousand unsanctioned witches, he might one repay the debt of his own birth to the God-Emperor.

---

Troop count: 10.
Extraordinary troops:
Stanislaus Di Felice, Ordo Hereticus Interrogator, force leader. Stanislaus is a sanctioned psyker and an aspiring inquisitor in the tutelage of the uncompromising Inquisitor Hera. His skill set focuses on the process of investigation and the application of his warp-derived powers to uproot and banish the witch, the heretic, and the mutant. His prowess with intrigue and skills-at-arms are relevant but ultimately secondary. In relation to Inquisitor Hera, Di Felice often plays the role of a personal bloodhound who is tasked with using his psychic abilities to seek, flush out, and condemn the Inquisitor's foes.

"Scrutiny", psyber-eagle. Scrutiny is a psy-familiar - specifically, a psyber-eagle - that is psychically bonded with Interrogator Di Felice. While not the largest or most grand eagle, Scrutiny is undeniably one of the grandest additions to the inquisitorial retinue. While Scrunity has little direct combat application, the psychic link gives Stanislaus a definitive advantage in his awareness and an undeniable enhancement to his psychic abilities. Scrutiny was given to Di Felice as a gift from a sect of the Adeptus Mechanicus after Di Felice successfully ensured the interests of local Magos in the course of a prior investigation.

Willem von Toor, techpriest enginseer. Willem is an enginseer of the Adeptus Mechanicus that has been indefinitely assigned to the retinue of Interrogator Di Felice. In the retinue, Willem is the expert consultant regarding matters of machines and the machine spirit. Willem is also responsible for managing relations with local Adeptus Mechanicus Magos and representing their interests, as well as assisting with interrogation and torture. Willem originally joined Di Felice's retinue temporarily when Di Felice was involved with the same investigation that resulted in Scrutiny being gifted to him. After the investigation was closed and realized, Willem, his Magos, and Inquisitor Hera concluded it would be prudent for Willem to remain with the retinue.

Parasha Gorchakov, chirurgeon. Parasha is a civilian hiver chirurgeon that has been recruited to the retinue of Interrogator Di Felice on the authority of the Holy Inquisition. In the retinue, she is responsible for the medical analysis of reporting in the course of investigations, providing medical aide to the retinue, and assisting in torture. Parasha was formerly a senior chirurgeon working as a part of a humanitarian operation in the war-affected regions of an Imperial world who, when assaulted by heretics, mustered the chirurgeons and successfully held a desperate defense, albeit with high casualties. On the merit of her skills and her steadfast dedication to the God-Emperor, she was recruited by Di Felice to assist his retinue.

Birgitte Winterswijk, sage autosavant. Birgitte is an autosavant that was recruited through a mundane application to the Adeptus Administratum. In the retinue, she is responsible for storing, processing, and providing any and all information as would be relevant to the interrogator's activities, such as citing local laws, producing relevant statistics and observations, and taking notes during interrogations. Remarkably, she has no combat application.

Bruna D'Andrea, navigator. Bruna is a young navigator of House Brabazon who joined Di Felice's retinue in order to seek opportunities to restore the glory of her navigator house and reforge star charts across the light of the astronomican. While Di Felice relies on a variety of psykers to continue to impart wisdom on the warp to him, Bruna - who can interpret the warp with her third eye - is perhaps the most instrumental mentor and advisor on matters of the warp that Di Felice has. In addition, Di Felice relies on her to mask their presence as psykers as well as to find witches and insights where they may hide.

Lagmann Eftang Mellem, crusader. Lagmann is a young crusader who joined the retinue of Di Felice in order to seek opportunities to prove himself to the recruiting crusader houses. While he has few utility applications, his steadfast devotion to the God-Emperor and the strength of his arms are undeniable. In the retinue, he is responsible for ensuring the safety of Di Felice, forming the unassailable frontline of the retinue in combat, and putting uncovered heretics to the sword.

Allane Hellenboldus, sister oblatia. Allane is a Sororitas of quite some years who joined the retinue of Di Felice in order to seek enemies of the God-Emperor and the Ecclesiarchy far and abroad to purge in the God-Emperor's name. Much like Lagmann, her devotion is far and beyond that of the common man, with all the more benefit of her battle experience as a daughter of the emperor and the fury of her conviction in the pursuit of redemption. She swore the pentient oath on behalf of a former sister and lifelong friend who fell in battle while breaking rank to retreat. Through the penitent oath sworn on her sisters behalf, she hopes that she might redeem her sins in the eyes of the God-Emperor.

Denis Agletdinova, veteran inquisitorial stormtrooper. Sergeant Agletdinova is a veteran inquisitorial stormtrooper who joined the retinue at the request of Di Felice. In the retinue, Denis is responsible for putting the foes of Inquisitor Hera and the interrogator to the sword, as well as to teach Di Felice the intricacies of infantry combat and command.

"The Third Thorn of the Great Angel", death cult assassin. The Third Thorn is an elusive and pious death cult assassin who was recruited from the "Rose of the Martyr", a sanguinary death cult with established ties to the Ordo Hereticus. The woman is an enigma, from the strokes of her movements to the gaze of her eyes. As is common for sanguinary death cults, she is obsessed with vampiric rituals and the art of the kill, much to the ire of the puritan Hera and Di Felice. With consideration to her uncanny tact for stealth and assassination, alongside her all-consuming devotion to the Saint Sanguinius, it is convenient to overlook her esoteric behaviours. Notably, Di Felice is currently petitioning for her to be sent to the Officio Assassinorium for further training, although his current petitions have yet to receive a response.

Extraordinary equipment:
Interrogator Stanislaus Di Felice carries a condemnor boltgun, a force sword, and a stylised but ultimately plain dagger. He wears a mix of stylised master-crafted carapace armour and witch hunter leathers topped with a psychic hood in his daily attire.

Willem van Toor carries an Omnissian power axe and a plain power pistol in conjunction with his sanctified power armour and techpriest robes. He also bears a servo arm integrated into his being.

Parasha Gorchakov doesn't traditionally wear armour but often wear witch hunter leathers, which affords some small measure of protection. In addition to her medical equipment, she carries a pair of stub pistols which she wields together, which reflect her background as an underhiver.

Bruna D'Andrea wears a breastplate styled to the motifs of her navigator house in conjunction with her robes which, while largely ceremonial, offer some measure of her protection. She carries her navigators stave and a laspistol.

Lagmann Eftang Mellem wears his master-crafted carapace armour, which includes a full helmet, and crusader robes with pride, in conjunction with his surpression shield and power sword.

Allane Hellenboldus, with due thanks of her penitent oath bearing another's sins, still wears her Sororitas power armour. She carries a combi-flamer and a dagger on her person.

Denis Agletdinova wears a complete set of Adeptus Tempestus carapace armour and equipment. In addition to a plasma pistol and a dagger, he makes use of a variety of weapons, such as hotshot weapons, melta guns, and plasma guns.

The Third Thorn wears little in the way of genuine armour. Instead, she cycles through clothing to help her blend in with her environment; whether that be civilian attire or sleek stealth suits. She has a particular hatred for lewd and improper clothing in death cults, which she claims disgraces the Saint Sanguinius and the God-Emperor. She primarily wields a pair of master-crafted power swords, which are designed in such a way to be short and reasonably concealable. She also wields a pair of daggers, a variety of toxins, and a needle pistol; although she makes a point of rarely using the needle pistol, as the toxins "disgrace the rose" and "make it unsafe to pray with the corpse of a kill".

---

Reason for selection:
As Inquisitor Hera's apprentice, it is only natural that Di Felice shadows and assists her with uprooting heretics and witches wherever she may go. This is all the more relevant where a planetary governor is summarily executed by the Inquisition, for there is surely grand heresy afoot. In reality, this truth goes as far as to establish that his own retinue is merely an extension of hers, but as long as they remain useful to her ends, they may be allowed to remain organised as they are.

Relationships:
[ Inquisitor Hera - Loyal ]: "Inquisitor Hera is a shining example of the true purpose of the Inquisition. No heretic is safe, no matter how high and how lowly, and no ends justify heresy as the means. It is difficult to describe how grateful I am for her tutelage nor the opportunity to redeem my abhorrent, sorcerous mutation in the service to the Inquisition. Should I ever graduate from her tutelage, I only hope that I might become an inquisitor that she might be proud of."

[ Adepta Sororitas - Affectionate ]: "Never have I met such an organisation so pure of will and committed to the success of the holy God-Emperor's demise as the Adepta Sororitas. Their prowess, whether at arms or in scholarly affairs, is undeniable. Even when faced with such a dire charge, the Ordo Hereticus is truly blessed to be accompanied by the Adepta Sororitas."

[ Adeptus Arbites - Approving ]: "To uphold Imperial Law, from the courthouse to the underhive, is an admirable and honourable charge. The Imperium would truly be distraught without an organisation such as the arbites and arbitrators. Only seldom have I ever encountered difficulties when working alongside these talented men and women."

[ Adeptus Tempestus - Approving ]: "Any true man would be almost in vain to question the prowess of the Adeptus Tempestus. Truly, the Adeptus Tempestus form a reliable scalpel with which to cut away heresy where it may fester. Such is certain for any fair graduate of the Schola Progenium."

[ Astra Militarum - Approving ]: "To question the contribution of the Astra Militarum to the Imperium may well be tantamount to heresy. There is scant a conflict in our besieged Imperium where the guard does not hold. May those many souls lost find peace in their martyrdom in the God-Emperor's service."

[ Skitarii - Reluctant, but approving ]: "While the Adeptus Mechanicus themselves may be as admirable as they are, to permit a god besides the God-Emperor with such an undeniably powerful force bears due concern. Need not mention, at what point does a man flirt with abominable intelligence in the pursuit of greater efficiency?"

[ Assassins - Reluctant, but approving ]: "Should any man commit half the atrocities that the Third Thorn does, I would surely have them shot. Yet, the contribution of the assassins to the Imperial cause through skills well beyond my own is frankly undeniable. Inquisitor Hera, the great example she is, believes they are acceptable in the pursuit of purity, so such means are surely acceptable."

The Emperor's Duty: A Warhammer 40K RP

Interested. I'm thinking of either inquisitorial stormtroopers (scions) that came along with Hera or an honour guard of Sororitas. Would either work better?
The discord link is also broken for me.

EDIT: That, or an honour guard of Crusaders.

Announcement.

That explains where the discord went. It's a real shame to see though.

It was a pleasure to roleplay with you all (when I still existed here, anyway). All the best to everyone. If yall ever wanna catch up for a game or two or something, I'd love to vibe with yall again.

[Korriban, 6 ATC 5] Trial by Sith

_{Outside the hidden tomb, Korriban}
Atria K'avel, Sith Acolyte

---

The Korriban winds beat at Atria's poncho, forcing it to whip in the winds behind her as her fingers traced over the ancient Sith letters. With the thumb and her finger of her offhand, she pulled her hood further down towards her eyes and tugged her face wrap further up her nose. It was one of the first things she learned about the Korriban wastes that many years ago, in her faint memories as a young neophyte: the sand was coarse and rough, and if you let it, it would get everywhere. Hoods and wraps were the first steps. Recently, she had taken up a pair of goggles and fashioned crude scabbards out of the hides of local fauna for her electroblade and her scrap steel dagger. With both fixed or hanging from a pair of her many belts, alongside her several layers of hoods, robes, and ponchos, she looked much more like a scavenger than an acolyte. For her, that was comfortable, both against the elements and against the perceptions of other aspiring Sith that might wish her harm.

Atria had been listening to the others behind her, assembling and quipping as young Sith do, but she didn't pay them much heed. She had already sized them up as much as she cared to. Long ago, her and the other acolytes made a game of betting on how many times their betters would quip about the acolytes "pissing themselves", but it had long since lost its value. There were only two other acolytes joining the trial today. Another Zakrak, as it were, young enough to be bare in the face. Some part of her wanted to afford the boy some sympathy - to let him succeed in the trial. Her presence was more of a formality, after all - a compromise between conservative overseers and the impatient lords in the Ministry of War, waiting for the next battle meditator to serve them. Normally, through the influence of those lords, she would be spared from the more dangerous trials, but none would allow her to simply go without. On the other hand, mercy made for a poor Sith, and as she had already heard, the young boy had some vested interest in dark alchemy. Mara would surely spare him no detail if he were to fail. It would do him much better than it would her.

This probably went the same for the other acolyte: the pretty half-breed with her hair loose. The common word suggested that she only joined the academy recently. It was obvious at a glance that she wasn't as incapable as she might have liked, but who knows? The late-joining pretty types either did really well or were "useful" at least once or twice before vanishing in a tomb. She almost hoped that the half-breed made it through her trials, or at least escaped.

She gave the boy a bit of a thoughtful glance, concealed underneath her layers before she looked back to the ancient Sith characters.

The formality was something of a bore all the same. Instead, as she continued to trace her fingers over the ancient Sith characters, she closed her eyes and commanded the force to pool at her fingertips. She had visited the tomb long ago when she was scarcely an acolyte and the sheer presence of the tomb in the force had overwhelmed her. Now, it was a comfortable yet sinking feeling, like a safety blanket while 10 feet underwater. She could understand a few handfuls of the characters after her many years of study but she could definitely sense each one. She could feel each one pool: clumping and festering as commanded by the lingering effect of the dark side, clashing with her own festering pools in ways that made her guts churn.
"How interesting..." she mused as she continued to trace the characters with her fingertips.

Atria gave a glance back to the others, lingering on the boy, before returning her attention to the ancient characters. Mara would surely summon her when it suited her.

[Coruscant, 6 ATC 4] A House Divided II: A Little Wrong

_{Aboard the Thranta-class corvette variant RNS Programme, approaching New Plympto}
CAPT. An'd Pund'ii

---

"We're on schedule to arrive at New Plympto within the hour, Captain." called the young officer sitting in the navigator's seat. He glanced over from his terminal as he spoke, meeting Pund'ii's gaze before swinging back to his work.
"We've confirmed our schedule with the New Plympto spatial authority, sir. We've been cleared to dock at Table station at mooring point 2." called the next young officer, this time from the communicator's seat. She offered a rushed glance over her shoulder as she spoke before promptly returning to her calls. From his perched seat overlooking the bridge of the corvette, Captain Pund'ii offered no distinct response beyond brushing one of his lekku off his shoulder as he admired the distant New Plympto. Somehow, the bridge crew must have interperted some meaning from this, as they carried on with their duties with some purpose to their maneuvers.

For Captain Pund'ii, this meant the beginning of the lull for the journey. While the trip from Coruscant from Corellia was largely uneventful beyond the odd high-needs senator, the crew was at least in motion. After a few meetings with the Republic ambassador and other officials representing the New Plympto government, they would move on to Corellia and wait, just like they did every time. That was the relievingly unfortunate reality of flying a stateperson-variant Thranta-class corvette: less rooms, less troops, less action. For any young officers eager to cut their teeth on spatial combat, being posted to the RNS Programme was a career death sentence. For everyone else with sense, it was a dream come tru-

"Captain!" called out the sensor officer. It was the first voice of panic Pund'ii had heard in months. "Three unidentified corvette-type vessels approaching on an interception course." Pund'ii paused in thought, brushing at his lower lip with one of the fingers that rested o his chin before he shifted to stand up straight.
"Confirm that we're running active scanning with diplomatic tags," ordered Pund'ii as he cracked one knuckle under his thumb, "and put the sensor data on the screen." It was the first time he had spoken all morning. An uneasy hush fell over the bridge crew as the distant view of New Plympto was obscured by a simplistic map. The map detailed three vessels with approximately the same signature as their own approaching in a loosely arrow-shaped formation, travelling on course to bring themselves up alongside the RNS Programme.
"Confirmed, we are running diplomatic tags." called the sensor officer, with beads of sweat starting to form on his brow. Pund'ii furrowed his own brow in thought.
"Execute comprehensive scans on the ships and attempt to hail." ordered Pund'ii, now leaning forward onto his hands. The uneasy hush over the bridge festered as the bridge crew borderline assaulted their keyboards.
"They're all Thranta-class corvettes, captain, but no ID tags transmitting from their vessels. No ID in Republic databases, either." called the sensor officer, still focused on his screen as he spoke.
"No response to hailing from the lead vessel, captain. Attempting to hail the other tw-" explained the communication officer, only to be cut short in a panic:
"We're detecting a power surge, captain! They're bringing shields and weapons online!"

_{Aboard the Hammerhead-class cruiser RNS Sentinel, approaching New Plympto}
PVT. ████ V███████ "Vyshtal 6"

---

"All hands to general quarters, no duff. All hands to general quarters, no duff. The alert condition is now red. The material condition is now level 3. Prepare for hyperspace manoeuvres."

The alarms throughout the cruiser howled. Xadi couldn't have thrown her pazaak cards down fast enough.

Outside of the cramped and claustrophobic room, the crew of the ship raced through the hallways. Through the small utilitarian window in the airlock door, it looked like chaos; crewmen hardly had time to screw their hats on as they barreled past one another, shouting and twisting as they went. In Xadi's own room, it wasn't much different. The small table littered with cards and cigarra stubs squealed as it scratched across the durasteel floor, almost tipped over in the squad's panic to get up. Footsteps echoed through the small room as the soldiers, who were already adorned in all of their armour bar their helmets, scrambled to race to their stations and wrench open their lockers.

The keypad beeped with each keystroke before letting out an affirmative pair and parting way.
"What's the play, two!?" Xadi called out as she craned her head over her shoulder. From the other side of the room, another armoured soldier hoisting a jetpack over her shoulders shouted back:
"Full force in open quarters!" Artora - or 'two', the second-in-command of the team - yelled back. Xadi found her hands moving on her own as she turned her head back. This was something she had well-drilled over her three years of training. The helmet came on first, before pouches and kits found their way to their mountings and weapons found their way to their places. Black gloves adorned in white and red armour racked energy cells into weapons as they went, with a new counter came up in the corner of her helmet's display for each one. A vibrodagger followed a bullpup blaster rifle, which followed a heavy blaster pistol, which followed a set of grenades, which followed an out-of-place short matte scattergun. She twisted the ancient weapon about to begin thumbing in shots as she turned to face the cycling airlock door.

The word 'Vyshtal-1' appeared in a corner of Xadi's HUD as the last soldier walked into the room. Sergeant Marnath, the commander of the team, spoke over the squad channel as he wrenched on his own locker open.
"Listen in, Vyshtal. No less than five minutes ago, the RNS Programme, a Republic diplomatic envoy vessel, broadcasted a mayday signal. Allsource intelligence confirms the vessel was crippled by three corvettes in transit to New Plympto. The vessel is on a crash course for the planet as we speak. Our mission is to secure a landing zone for the marines, where we will then provide close protection for the extraction conducted by low orbital vehicles. We're operating on 'dynamic intelligence' as the crash site does not yet exist, with 3 seconds notice-to-move." Twisting about to face the team, Marnath conclusively worked the mechanism of his blaster. "Questions?"
"Dynamic intelligence..." Xadi scoffed, glancing over to another soldier - Losa, or 'Vyshtal-5', her closest friend on the team - as she spoke. Even through their helmets, they could both tell they were rolling their eyes.
"What's our vector, one?" came a dull feminine voice. The words 'Vyshtal-2' came on the HUD.
"Conditionally lethal. There may be civilians in the area, but command wants overwhelming force against anything bearing arms." Vyshtal-1 answered, twisting about to glance over as he secured his helmet into place. "Command wants to make an example of anybody who bears arms against our diplomats. That's why they're sending us." A pause settled on the room as the six soldiers kept making themselves ready. "If the crash site is as currently projected, there will be friendly forces on the ground. Be prepared to be redirected as required. As we all know, no plan survives first contact with the enemy."

Behind the six soldiers, the six hollow grey pillars looming dormant over the room screeched and roared before grinding open. Inside, six LOID-A - low orbit infantry department, assault variant - vehicles now waited for them. In staggered sequence, each of the soldiers pulled their doors up and set themselves into the claustrophobic pods, strapping themselves into the standing seats and racking their weapons into their slots. As Xadi strapped herself in and fastened the straps tightly about her armour, she found herself brawling with the repeating blaster emplacement that loomed above her head. That was the defining feature of the LOID-A variant: a droid-operated repeating blaster out the top, a man-operated repeating blaster out the front, and enough density to punch a hole through a bunker if it lands on one. Xadi always thought that another strap to hold the damned thing up wouldn't go amiss.

"Last call for questions, Vyshtal team." Vyshtal-1 called, his name appearing on Xadi's HUD once again. Silence came over the team as the last man pulled the LOID-A door shut over the top of themselves. "Alright. Let's get in and out in time for lunch." Outside of the assault pods, the white lights were abruptly replaced with dim red lights, heralding the young voice over the intercom:
"All hands, prepare for hyperspace manoeuvres. All hands, prepare for hyperspace manoeuvres. Executing in ten seconds."

_{Low orbit, New Plympto}

---

The Thranta-class corvette suddenly burst into smoke and flames as it fell through New Plympto's orbit. It fell with all the grace of a tipping titan before it unceremoniously crashed into the ground, bursting into a mushroom of soil, steel, and flames as the impact ripped it asunder. A wave of dust and smoke heralded a shockwave of force throughout the Kourshad southern jungle, just outside of which the corvette made its crash landing. The stars bent for a moment for a much larger and much older Republic warship to barrel out of hyperspace after it, where it wasted no time manoeuvring itself into orbit above the Kourshad jungle. From the port side, which faced the planet below, six streaks of light fell and hurtled towards the burning wreckage below, like six shooting stars with the same course. There, in one of those plummeting assault pods, Xadi gripped at her seat and gritted her teeth, waiting for the seeping heat of an orbital insertion to reach her.

No plan survives first contact with the enemy. Xadi only hoped that their timely arrival didn't make that the case for the other soldiers in the Kourshad jungle.

[Korriban, 6 ATC 5] Trial by Sith

[link] - Atria K'avel, Sith Acolyte.

[Coruscant, 6 ATC 4] A House Divided II: A Little Wrong

COMDR Corvane Voycnor - Embassy to the Galactic Empire, Corellia

---

The late-night rain made the sleek dark spacecraft's arrival that much more thematic. For the two soldiers stood out the back of the embassy, it was a blessing. It meant that their hour's watch had something interesting to it. For Lieutenant Commander Maugvi, who waited half-soaked in his Imperial officer's uniform, it was a curse. For him, it meant that any chance of moving beyond his station was over. He did his time and served the Empire well.
"Not well enough," he muttered as he took one last huff of his cigarra before tossing it to the concrete floor. He would be posted elsewhere, somewhere comfortable somewhere near the heart of the Empire where he would be out of the way while the grown men did their work. It's not to say that he wasn't capable - quite the contrary, given the significance of his now most recent assignment - but rather, that he's a victim of circumstance. As he watched the sleek spacecraft lean back into a hover and pressed a few creases out of his coat, his thoughts wandered to his family. Even if he didn't perform well enough to be trusted with the latest flashpoint in the galaxy, at least he could be with them now.

The spacecraft hissed as it gingerly set itself down on the Imperial embassy's private landing platform. It sat idly for a moment, looming over the two guardsmen and the Lieutenant Commander, before it hissed again to herald the Commander's arrival. The boarding ramp of the ship shuddered before starting its descent, parting to reveal the silhouette of a broad man in a greatcoat and a more feminine figure at his flank. There, at the top of the ramp and with the light at his back, stood Commander Corvane Voycnor, with a head that reflected the lights behind him and eyes that seemed to penetrate every detail. There he was: the "adult" that was Lieutenant Commander Maugvi's replacement. With a hint of malice in his mind, Maugvi lifted a hand to his forehead in salute.
"Welcome to Corellia, Commander Voycnor," Maugvi began, holding his salute as Corvane started his stride down the boarding ramp. Corvane's assistant, Crewman Tiedee, followed at his flank without missing a beat, whipping a gray umbrella open above their heads without so much as a glance as she went. It made Maugvi burn that little bit more. With a conclusive final step and a subtle click of boot heels, Corvane lifted his own hand to his head apathetically, before their hands collectively dropped to their sides. The swagger stick that Corvane held under his arm didn't budge. "We are honoured to finally receive you. I only wish it was under better circumstances."

At a glance, Corvane seemed interested in everything but Lieutenant Commander Maugvi. His eyes, uncompromising and unrevealing as they were, distantly swept over every detail of the landing pad before running briskly over Maugvi. They hovered over the small pile of burnt cigarras and the creases in Maugvi's uniform. Despite the stony expression that Corvane wore, his disapproval was obvious.
"As do I, Lieutenant Commander, but better circumstances do not bring us together," Corvane retorted. His gloved fingers adjusting on his swagger stick gave more expression than both his face and the face of the secretary holding the umbrella beside him. Had Maugvi also been wearing gloves, they would surely squeak as his hands gripped tight in frustration. Thoughts of his family abated less helpful thoughts.
"Shall I show you inside then, sir?" Maugvi suggested, half turning towards the door as he did. "I imagine you two have much to do."

---

"I will leave you be then, sir."

The gentle whirr of cycling doors heralded some measure of peace for Corvane. He waited for a moment as if he wasn't truly alone, before letting out a restrained sigh.
"Disappointing, but not unexpected," Corvane observed as he whisked his dress hat from his head. His eyes wandered over the several idle screens of the desolate command center, all unnervingly lifeless and vacant.
"The last of your men are due to arrive by tomorrow morning, sir," Tiedee assured. Her eyes briefly flashed over her dataslate before looking back up to Corvane, confirming the details as she spoke. "The last of the garrison personnel are scheduled to have left by the following evening." Tiedee, Corvane's secretary and assistant, has been Corvane's shadow for almost a year. The lowly rank she wears on her shoulders means little compared to the authority she truly has. In many regards, she may as well wear the commander insignia aswell. They share the same uncompromising standard for their work; the only difference is that Corvane trusts the troublesome details to Tiedee, who makes sure that they don't bother him later. The sight of a lowly crewman commanding a team of what are essentially executioners is a curious sight to the untrained eye, but a familiar sight in Corvane's wake. After all, Corvane was not made a diplomat because of his prowess in diplomacy.

It was an example that very much applied here, Corvane mused to himself. He had become the embassy commander of the Corellian embassy at the will of the ministry, but that was more of an inconvenience than an objective. With a few idle taps into her dataslate, Tiedee brought the array of idle screens to life. Footage of riots, protests, and news reports were spread neatly across the many screens as Corvane stepped up into the overlook for the command center. His mind wandered back to the planning as he surveyed them all. With the arrival of the last of his staff tomorrow morning, selected by hand by himself and his aides, the operation was finally prepared to enter the execution phase. The mission statement was still fresh on his mind: destabilize the Corellian sector through covert cooperation with the Free Corellia and Free Nosauria movements, and seize proxy de facto control where possible to do so. He already had several meetings planned, but he would need several more before he could establish his network on Corellia and begin aiding the separatists.

With the powers that comes with diplomatic immunity, and the freedom that comes with a stark absence of Sith, his mission would be that much easier.

"Have the embassy cleaned to standard before the last of the outgoing staff leave, Tiedee." Corvane ordered, prompting Tiedee to tap at her dataslate as he spoke. "Once we begin, we will be escalating embassy security to more appropriate levels for a conflict zone. Let's draw some value from the civilians while they're still allowed on site."