Dark Heresy - Wisdom is the beginning of fear.

[Jak Snide]

Mikolas got his answer from Ishamel, the short man utterly dwarfed by the man he spoke to. "They've always been here. Longer than anyone alive can remember, at least. We each keep to ourselves and the muties stay in the third holds. Never been like this before..."

The vox crackled into life once again, the voice of the captain as unrestrained as before.

"Preposterous! They'd never-"

The voice broke off, the machine in Cryvus' hand silent for a few long seconds. When the man spoke again he was more subdued, though the acolytes could hear the barely restrained anger in his words.

"You have three minutes to evacuate before the holds are fully sealed. Find Sebek and have him bring you to the bridge. I want a full report on what's happened down there."

----

"Didn't see you making a stand, soldier" hissed Scab, Mithras' words having hit a nerve. "Last I saw you were running for the door with piss streamin' down your leg."

The pair of them closed on the door to A-3, the glo-panels of the ceiling above it flickering erratically. It'd been closed, and Mithras was fairly sure he hadn't shut it behind his team as they'd been moving to flank. There was something else, though. A mass of darkness beyond the door, resting against one of the nearby stacks of cargo. As Mits strained to make out what it was it stepped forward into the light, and his stomach tightened at what he saw. It was big; as tall as Mikolas but twice as wide. It's form was vaguely human, though where skin should have been was a coat of jet black scales on which Mits could make out spatters of blood. It looked at the pair of them for a moment, face devoid of features save for two beady blue eyes and an impossibly wide mouth.

"So. Slicks." it said, it's voice deep and dangerous, "What's it gonna be? Talk, or you here to clean up?"

[Kelne]

With the captain more or less onside, Cryvus resumed his path towards the exit, increasing his pace to a jog. They did not want to be caught on the wrong side of the bulkheads.

[NamagomiMk0]

Three minutes to evacuate. Given his own mobility, he shouldn't have an issue...he could only hope that Mithras got the warning...reactivating his stummers, he started off in a highly muffled dash to the exit...

Hopefully, the captain has enough of a clue to not risk sending anyone back in...

[Capntastic]

And so the checkered one began a hasty trudge alongside the others. He couldn't quite make out what the precise orders were- but something was going to happen. And he wanted to make sure he didn't miss it.

[Jak Snide]

The group by the door to B-2 headed for the exit, Xerxes growling into his vox and prompting Mithras to make for it himself. All but Crisis refrained from sprinting, choosing to keep a steady pace rather than expend it all in one burst. Crisis had no such concerns, the low gravity of the ship and his overall agility allowing him to make swift progress towards the exit. Quite soon he was alone, the others over a hundred meters behind. He glanced left and right as he moved, the lesson he'd learned back home all too relevant now. He was just about to turn left towards A-1 when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Peering into the darkness he could make out a few shapes in the gloom some 80m away from him; two were human sized, while the third was something far larger. Straining his ears, he managed to make out a few words in a deep voice.

"-here to clean up?"

---

Mithras stood in shocked silence even as his vox crackled with Xerxes' voice. The imposing thing stood before him waiting for a reply.

[Christian]

((OOC - Sorry guys, my ISP just finally fixed my damn connection, apparantly it was badly connected from the beginning, which explains periodic lapses in my connection since I moved here... -_-))

---

Mits had a reply on his lips but it died as he saw the shadow. For a moment his brain ceased to function as the tremendous... thing... being appeared before him. A mutant? Perhaps...

The vox crackled the captain's response, but Mithras barely heard it. How... what the...?

No, fuck this. What'd the vox said? Three minutes. Anger at the sight of the monster, mutant, trampled by instincts to run. Damn it. His lasgun was out of its holster, and he fired it at the thing. After that, if he was still alive, he'd run. Damn them all.

[Jak Snide]

Mithras saw the thing's eyes narrow as the captain's message crackled through his vox. Swinging his lasgun about he placed a single shot in the dead center of it's chest. The mutant didn't even flinch. It loped towards him with worrying speed, growling in anger.

"Shouldn't have done that, slick! I'll take you apart."

Scabs, frozen in terror until this moment, raised his shotgun and fired. Pellets bounced off the thing's arm, embedding themselves in the wall nearby. Bellowing in rage it looked away from Mits and bore down on the watchmen. Two oversized hands grabbed the now screaming youth roughly and, grinning, the thing turned to face the guardsman.

"Make a wish." it chuckled a moment before it tore Scabs in two.

It took all of Mithras' will not to fall to his knees and scream in abject terror. As horrific as this was he'd seen similar back on Tranch and knew the only correct response when confronted by something capable of pulling a man apart. He ran screaming, lasgun clutched tightly in both hands, towards the exit to A-1.

---

Crisis watched in horror as these events transpired. He watched something take a las-bolt to the chest, rend a man apart as if he was paper and turn to follow the fleeing man who he could now identify as Mithras.

The sharpshooter turned and ran, telling himself that it was the only sensible thing to do in the face of such a foe.

---

Xerxes inclined his head as he heard gunfire and screams echo through the hold.

"That ain't good. Double time, go!"

(Mithras and Crisis both fail their fear tests, gaining 3 and 2 IP respectively. They are also now fleeing for the exit to the holds as fast as their legs will carry them.)

[Kelne]

"Business hours are over," Cryvus said grimly, picking up the pace as much as he could.

[Jak Snide]

Mikolas, taking point for the main group, saw Crisis turn and run ahead of him, bolting for the door to A-1 with even more speed than usual. A moment later Mithras careened across his view from the right, babbling and screaming in terror. He saw why a moment later as the hulking mutant came into sight, hot in pursuit of the guardsman. For the first time in weeks he felt that he wasn't the largest living thing on the ship. The jet black monstrosity didn't notice him or the others coming up behind him, though, quickly disappearing from sight once again.

"Void it all" wheezed Vern, slowing his pace slightly, "not him."

"Him?" Xerxes asked, glaring at man through his visor. "You saying you know that thing?" Vern clammed up in response, Crisis' note still fresh in his mind. Ishmael, however, replied in his stead, slowing to a jog himself.

"That's Bix. Speaker for the muties. They always sent him because...well, you saw him. Strong as ten men and hide thicker than a carapace breastplate. We...try not to make him angry." His last words trailed off under Xerxes gaze, the arbitrator clearly disapproving of what he heard.

"Gotta go gotta go." muttered Kadi, reminding the group to keep their pace and head for the exit, though there was now a threat ahead of them.

---

Mithras didn't spare a glance behind him, though Crisis had the opportunity to as he passed through the doors and into hold A-1. The thing that had torn what was presumably Scabs in two was hot on his tail, bellowing threats and laughing. He picked up the pace, racing for salvation...and stopped some 30 meters short, flattening himself against some nearby crates.

More zombies, about a dozen of them, stood in front of the exit, clawing with malformed limbs at the shut door. He was relieved to see that it wasn't sealed by a bulkhead yet, and he managed to make out the terrified scream from the other side of that very door. Hopefully that was Sebek, waiting for them as instructed. He'd have to act quickly, though, as he could hear Mithras' footfalls growing closer.

(This shows everyone's current position. The large red X is the location of Cryvus, Mikolas, Xerxes and the three remaining watchmen, still in hold A-2. The small dark green x in hold A-1 is the position of Crisis and Mithras. The small black x just to the right of them is Bix, enraged and bearing down on them. The small red square in the top left is the exit from the hold and currently surrounded by a dozen or so of the living dead.)

[Kelne]

The only way out was through that thing. It would have to die.

No longer so concerned with the possibility of putting holes in the hull, he switched over to his trusty scalptaker revolver, carrying on his momentum towards the door. Let the vile mutant meet the Emperor's judgement slightly earlier than its fellows.

[Christian]

"Nevermeanttogoddakeeplowhateitwhenihavetocrawli'llcrawlfortheemperoremperorprotectsmedamnitdroppedmyshotgunijustwantedtobehomeonthefarmagainaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!"

Mithras' mind was... in a state of disarray.

Had he been able to coolly and calmly collect himself, he would feel sorry for Scabs. The man had died because he tried to save him. In fact, if it weren't for his quick, if somewhat foolish thinking, Mits himself would have been torn to parts quite as easily.

All this, of course, was locked away inside of the less tactically useful areas of his cluttered brain as the Guardsman ran, quite literally, for his life.

He saw no one else, he heard no one else (except for the sound of encroaching, heavy footsteps), he had to get out.

Not them...

The small, hard knot of "buggeritall" that'd been hanging hopefully in his throat as he'd been running fell to the pits of his innard with a determined squelch.

Grenade. Grenade. Grenade. The image of a pineapple-shaped explosive devise fluttered before his eyes. He was fairly sure it was an hallucination, and a quick attempt to seize it proved this to be true.

But he had grenades!

Still, running was better than being torn in two...

"I have grenades! I have grenaaaaades!" he shouted, hoping somehow that someone with a sound and healthy mind would take these facts and turn them into something useful.

[Capntastic]

Mik advanced as well, shotgun at the ready, He was, in fact, snarling a bit. This whole flying building business was sickening to him- the way there were...things living in it. That Emperor guy would most certainly wanna smash some skulls for this- and not just the mutant ones.

[Kelne]

It was debatable as to whether Cryvus counted as having a sound and healthy mind. He did, however, have a good set of lungs.

"Armaments!" he shouted, "Chapter two! Verse twenty-three!"

[Jak Snide]

Mikolas reached the door to A-1 first, turning into the hold with his weapon readied as Cryvus shouted something. The hulking figure ahead of him turned sharply, distracted by the noise and set his eyes on Mik.

"More of you, huh slick?" he said as he began his advance, bounding forward with massive strides.

---

Crisis turned to Mithras as he neared him, silently holding up an object of his own for the guardsman to see, and then pulled the pin with a trembling hand. He then turned back, still holding on to the grenade in his hand. Mithras was wondering if the gas-masked man had snapped when the voidborn hurled the grenade towards the door. It arced high and off to the right, just wide of the center of the unliving mob, and detonated before it touched the wall. The effect was spectacular, if gruesome, the detonation tearing the closest two mutants apart and lacerating the rest with shrapnel, their mangled bodies dropping to the deck silently.

Then the wailing came again, even more terrible than before. It pierced the sharpshooters' mind and he fell to his knees, clutching at his ears, trying to block out the noise. He felt a warm liquid dribble down his face inside of the gas mask. Xerxes reacted to the unnatural sound as well, doubling over and retching. Kadi let out her own wail, though one of terror, and crumpled to the ground. Vern, rounding the corner at the time, lost control and fell to the ground spasming.

And then the mutant, the one identified as Bix, crashed to the ground, his momentum carrying forward into a stack of crates stamped with the Imperial Aquila and the mark of ringed planet. They toppled on top of the black scaled thing, though he was far too busy screaming to curse his fortune, his voice filled with sheer terror. One crate broke open, scattering lasgun charge packs across the deck in front of the rear group.

Cryvus, Mithras and Mikolas had felt the lash of the mind-scream as well, but had managed to keep their composure, calling on mental discipline or sheer bloody mindedness to resist the effects of the maddening keening. Save for the scattered contents of the crate and the bloody mess of bodies that Crisis' grenade had left the way to the exit was now clear. Xerxes pushed himself to his feet wordlessly, spitting the remainder of his last meal out of his mouth, and shakily began to run forward. Ishmael was trying to shoulder Kadi while Vern slowly made his way to his feet. Crisis felt his will returning to him as the wailing faded, though he felt sick to his stomach and light headed.

(The way to the exit is now seemingly clear, though half the survivors were debilitated by the wailing. Crisis and Xerxes have gained 4 and 3 IP respectively, but can otherwise act normally although Xerxes will seem withdrawn and quiet for the next few hours. Crisis and Mithras are still under the effects of Fear and won't hesitate to make a bolt for the exit from the holds.)

[Christian]

Mithras had momentarily felt a pulling in his mind as the elderly man had yelled out the chapter and page about the handling of grenades and safety precautions. His hand had reached out for the velcro'd piece of the backpack that guarded the explosives, but Crisis had been faster.

A horrified series of expressions played across the soldiers' face as the grenade tumbled through the air, and with the explosion, and the vailing erupting mere moments after it, he was overwhelmed with body-quivering, nerve-wrecking terror.

He saw the others move and momentarily felt like he was back on his homeplanet at boot-camp. A situation like this, half his squad pretending to be wounded, had been one of the most stressful parts of his job... but now...

Without thinking he holstered his pistol and ran towards Crisis, desperately trying to help the man to his feet whilst at the same time his legs tried to resume the running. "Get up damn you!" he yelled at the gasmasked man, the fear of horrible, viscerating death still looming over him.


((OOC - If Mits can't focus enough to help Crisis, I'll edit the part out))

[Kelne]

Cryvus paused in his rush, attempting to haul Vern upright. They'd already lost too many good crewmen today (along with a couple of cowards). He didn't want to lose any more.

[Capntastic]

Physics, though altogether almost entirely unknown to Mik, was in play all around him. The explosive blast of the grenade; the momentum of the mutant. A very glorious ballet of universal forces. The important thing about forces, an adept might say, is that they have reactions that balance them out in the universe. Each things needs another. An opposite.

So when an unwholesome psychic shriek lashes into one's mind, it is simply the force of the universe- countersigned by the grace of the Emperor, of course- that causes it to be met in kind by a more wholesome, understandable, and physical force.

With the mass of the universe in his gloriously human index finger, Mik clenched the trigger.

(Semi-auto shootin's at the thrashing mutant freak that was apparently given the name 'Bix' in mockery of human social etiquette.)

[Jak Snide]

Mithras hauled Crisis to his feet, the gaunt man's hands now clutched tightly around the autocarbine that hung from a strap. The guardsman propelled them both towards the closed door, their momentum slamming them into it and invoking a scream of terror from the other side. Peering through the view-port Mits sighted Sebek standing a good few feet away from the door and shaking in his boots.

Xerxes ran. Cryvus helped Vern to his feet then ran. Ishmael draped Kadi over one shoulder and ran. Mikolas turned his weapon on the helpless mutant and let rip, saturating the area of buckshot. Those pellets that hit home simply bounced off the thing's impenetrable hide. One blast, however, struck a pile of charge packs lying close by. Most of them were rent apart or sent spinning across the deck by the impact, but a few reacted in a more volatile fashion. An onlooker would have suspected that the huge man's disregard for them had angered the machine spirits of a few of the packs and, demonstrating their displeasure, they had detonated. The inhuman roared in pain, Mikolas familiar with the tone of shock. He could see that some of the thing's hide had been blown away, exposing dark yellow flesh beneath that leaked fluorescent blue blood. He could also see that the thing had snapped out of his fit and was pushing himself to his feet.

(Crisis and Mithras are at the exit, but it's closed and locked from the other side. Everyone else, save Mikolas, is half-way to the exit. Mikolas is still in the door between A-1 and A-2. The mutant is about 30m from him and rising to his feet.)

[Christian]

"Open this damned door! That is an ORDER!" Mithras, having little time to think, merely screamed what would have convinced him to do the same. Letting go of Crisis he turned and saw the furious mutant getting his bearings once more... and the patched of burnt away hide and exposed flesh. Not even stopping to consider he pulled once more his laspistol, aimed it at the exposed parts and tried to calm down. It wasn't easy, but if he fired aimlessly he'd only direct the things' fury towards him before he could cause any lasting damage.

Prayer had become an everyday thing to Mits, but from time to time he really prayed, and at this moment he prayed with all his might that the man behind the door would gather his wits and unlock the door; he prayed that his las-shot would hit its' aimed target and he prayed that it, as well as whatever damage else anyone could cause it, would be enough to kill it. By the Emperor he hated mutants...

((Mits spends half a turn readying his weapon and screaming at Sebek, the other half to aim, he's not shooting this turn))

[Kelne]

"Witness your DOOOOOM!" Cryvus howled, whirling and firing upon the mutant in one eerily fluid motion. There were precious few vulnerable spots on the beast, but he had the weapon for the job, and that explosion seemed to have opened up a nice tear in the mutant's armour.

"Covering fire, people," he said in a somewhat more normal voice, followed by, "Mikolas! Exit. Now."

[Jak Snide]

Mithras' yelling seemed to have done the trick. Coupled with Crisis' repeated knocking the door swung open, Sebek peering out into the hold for a moment before turning away and emptying his lunch onto the deck. Crisis pay any attention to the man, bolting through the doorway and into the relative safety of the corridor. Mithras held his aim on the mutant for a second before his resolve wavered and he too slipped through the portal.

Cryvus whipped around and fired and, despite barely having time to aim, his shot was true. It tore into Bix' exposed flesh and the mutant doubled over, coughing up blood and trying to stem the bleeding with one massive hand. Xerxes turned and added his own fire, though to no effect. The mutant was shielding his new weak point as best as he could and the remaining scales proved as durable as they had before. The remaining Watchmen ran, Kadi still draped over her comrade's shoulder. It wasn't long before they reached the exit from the holds.

[Kelne]

Cryvus kept his pistol trained on the mutant until he was sure Mikolas was out of the thing's reach, then resumed his course for the exit. Being stuck on the wrong side of the blast doors would be a very bad thing.

[Christian]

Mithras would've cursed his momentary cowardice if he wasn't very, very convinced it had just saved his life.

Not looking a gifted horse in the mouth, he holstered the gun again and remained to see that everyone passed through safe before he, without waiting for any help, began to close the large blast-door. He did NOT want that thing to come through. It was wounded, but he had seen enough in his days to know that a wounded creature is just as, if not more, deadly than one that isn't.

"No one passes through here once it's sealed!" he shouted, a bit unnecessary perhaps but adrenaline did that to your system, "until we reach planet-side. Once we do, this whole hold will be purged!" anger was building up inside him now that sheer terror was ebbing away. He knew, of course, that from time to time people chose to live in relatively peaceful conditions with mutants... but with Tranch still fresh in his mind, he knew exactly what these creatures were capable off if left to breed and multiply. And what they had just witnessed...

But something didn't ring right. He'd never encountered creatures like this before. Reanimating the dead? Or were they simply so devoid of higher brain-activity that they only looked so?

"After we have ensured that the blast-door cannot be breached, we move to speak with your captain." he turned and poked a sharp finger in the chest of Sebek, "whether he wants to or not. If you're lucky, and the Emperor wills it, the purge this ship will go through once we reach planet-side will only remove the mutants you've been stowing away."


((EDIT: Mithras is OBVIOUSLY not closing the door whilst anyone is still inside... er... at the moment.))

[Capntastic]

It was then that Mik realized that maybe following Cryvus's order might be beneficial. Moreso than trying to duke it out with this overgrown...thing.

So he ran to catch up, hoping to avoid the semi-fallen beastie.

[Jak Snide]

The Watchmen bolted through the hatch and didn't stop, far from content to stop just inside the "safe" zone. Cryvus and Xerxes turned and followed once they saw Mikolas start to sprint. He latter raced past Bix, the mutant taking a single step towards him and swinging at him with his free arm. Mik ducked the blow and kept running, hearing a grunt of dissatisfaction from the mutant.

As Cryvus and Xerxes reached the doors they stopped to look back. Mithras, having found Imperial technology to be wonderfully simple and clearly labelled for once, stood with one hand on the switch and watched Mikolas cover the last few meters as Bix limped after him, the mutant occasionally spitting blood from his impossibly wide mouth. Then the living dead finally caught up with them, filtering through the stacks of crates and converging on their target before he could defend himself.

"Why'd you do this?" Bix asked before he was torn down by dozens of grasping hands, his fading strength useless now.

Mikolas staggered through the hold and Mithras pulled the switch, a sheet of metal several inches thick slamming down from the ceiling and blocking off the passage way as the lights dimmed to red. A warning klaxon begun blaring, though the sound cut out after a few seconds with a burst of static.

Xerxes slumped against the wall, taking a moment to catch his breath. Crisis had seated himself on the floor and was looking over his carbine, the weapon partly dismantled already. He seemed oblivious to the world around him. Sebek, who'd retreated further down the corridor, nervously approached the group, his hands clutched together in front of him.

"Wha-what's going on in there?" he asked, a fleck of vomit shaking it's way free of his lips as he spoke.

[Kelne]

Cryvus wasted no time in voxing the bridge once more, "Bridge, we're clear. Seal all access points to the hold now."

"I am not minded to wait until we make port to deal with this," he told the others as he waited on a response, "I intend to have the hold opened to vacuum and every inch of this ship scoured. To that end, we must make for the bridge. Unless there is a closer means of opening the relevant airlocks?" He directed this last question to any crewmen remaining in earshot.

[Jak Snide]

Cryvus felt a vibration pass through the deck beneath his feet. To those unused to space travel it'd have been one among a dozens others caused by a ship, but he recognised the sensation of several bulkheads sealing at once. Crisis was dimly aware of this as well, though his attention was elsewhere.

Sebek, looking a little flustered now, was the only man within earshot. The three remaining watchmen had stopped further down the corridor and were busy resting and, in the case of one, crying.

"N-no, the bridge has sole access to the hold air locks, honoured guest." the purser replied, casting a glance past the acolytes at the sealed hatch they'd just passed through.

[Christian]

Mithras gritted his teeth slowly as Cryvus talked. Truthfully, he felt relief that someone took care of this, he was too shook up himself to make any rational decisions, and Cryvus seemed surer with the workings of spaceships than he was.

He glanced over towards the others, as well as the three remaining watchmen. He opened his mouth for a few seconds to say something, but didn't, instead he wiped his brow, realizing that, with grim irony, he'd once again come through battle unharmed... The emperor takes and gives.

"I am the weapon of the Emperor," he muttered at the remark of scouring Cryvus had made, "just aim me and I shall do my duty."

His eyes had begun to swivel in their sockets again, which might indicate that he was calming down... or having a nervous fit, who knew?

[Capntastic]

Mik just stared at the door that had just closed between him and that horrible beast. For a few moments his muscles were tense as the rest of the situation, and his stance indicated that he might try to punch a hole in it out of rage. The eyebrows, furrowed to the point it'd make an agriworlder reminisce, specially indicated the supreme and truly human anger he was feeling. But, Mik exhaled, and let himself drop back to a more casual posture before turning to the group.

"Damn! D'dya see the way the shot just fell right off it? Would'a made a nice jacket. Are we gettin' paid extra for that bit of cleaning?"

His hands were already working to reload his new treasure, while his grin was sparkling as well as it was able.

"Awesome as Hell how those lasbits went off, though. Only seen that a few times before."

[NamagomiMk0]

The moments were all a blur to Crisis in his newfound state of temporary insanity...all he could figure at the moment was that if he was to be able to fight anything like that thing...his weapons as they were were no good. No, they needed to be perfect. In absolutely -perfect- condition. Not only did the machine spirits need to be utterly satisfied...

...but details adjusted if need be...


And so, Crisis continued his dive into madness, not only focusing on the maintenance of his guns, but also adjusting the peak sights when that was done with...to a level of meticulosity that others could see was not normal...

...and yet...those sights never seemed to be in the right spot, ever...no matter how long he did, no matter how hard he tried...those damned sights...they would never go in the right place. Ever! They were always off! ALWAYS!!!

[Jak Snide]

Mikolas found himself alone in his appreciation of the explosive spectacle. Crisis, usually one to blend into the background, was working rabidly on his carbine, the outside world lost to him. Mithras wore a grim expressions as his eyes darted around in their sockets, scanning for an unseen threat. Even Xerxes, usually a commanding presence, seemed withdrawn and unable to look people in the eye. The three watchmen weren't doing much better. The only one who seemed unperturbed besides himself was Cryvus, but strangeness was the norm for the old man.

Sebek wiped his mouth, aware of the state he was in, and nodded to the acolytes.

"If you're ready, most esteemed passengers," he said, glancing at Crisis, "I shall direct you to the bridge." A nudge from Xerxes brought Crisis around long enough for him to assemble his weapon and stand, though as they walked to continued to tinker with the sights.

The journey seemed all too long for the acolytes. Before the time it took to get around the ship merely reminded them of how vast it was. Now, however, they knew there was a malignant presence festering within the hold and every minute it remained frayed their nerves little by little.The sounds of commotion they heard as they made their way through the twisting passages of the ship did little to help, especially for Xerxes. He knew what a riot in the making sounded like.

After what seemed like forever they reached a personnel lift, the first they'd seen about the Brazen Sky. A diminutive figure clothed in the red robes of the Adeptus Mechanicus stood inside and, with a word from Sebek, a slim mechandrite snaked out from the sleeve of his robes and merged with the control panel. A moment later the door sealed behind them and the floor beneath them began to rise.

The bridge was quite a sight, especially to the likes of Mikolas and Mithras. The command center of a space faring vessel was usually portrayed as a grand chamber lined with officers, arcane machinery and set against the starry void visible through a large view port. The bridge of the Brazen Sky was small, and rounded. The far wall was flat, though instead of a grand view they were greeted by a thick sheet of metal. Cryvus knew all to well this blast door protected them from viewing the twisting currents of the immaterium and was thankful for it's presence.

The other walls were lined with the sort of incomprehensible machinery the acolytes had expected, and handful of legless servitors bound to them and watched over by an ethereal tech-priest in robes darker than usual robes. In the center of it all was a cradle, suspended from the ceiling by a thick bundle of cables, in which a frail looking man in his later years lay. His seat looked far too large for him, designed for someone of incredible girth. As they took their first steps forward the captain sat up and leaned forward, wires snaking from the back of his neck and linking him with the device in which he resided.

"You've finally arrived," he stated, his voice surprisingly strong for someone so feeble looking, "and you best have an explanation for what's going on down there. I've had a riot break out thanks to your little broadcast, and whatever you found better DAMN well justify declaring situation gamma."

[Kelne]

"Captain," Cryvus said without preamble, "your hold has been infested by a warp-spawned entity, capable of animating the dead to do its bidding. How it came to be there, I am uncertain. Nor can I estimate its intelligence. But the mutants either serve it willingly or serve it in death."

"For now, it is confined to the cargo hold. However, I cannot be certain that all of its servants share its confinement, and I am certain that its influence will not be thwarted by mere bulkheads. We have lost fourteen crewmen that I am aware of, and stand to lose more."

"It is my reccommendation that we immediately drop to normal space and open the cargo holds to the void. We will then repressurise after a suitable interval and be certain that all taint has been expunged, both from the hold itself and the rest of the ship."

"To save us all time," he concluded, "is there anybody among the witnesses who disputes my version of events or my advice?" Cryvus kept his gaze steady upon the captain, attempting to impress upon the man the urgency of the situation. Time, he was certain, was not on their side.

[Capntastic]

"He's right; we gotta get this place all cleaned out. No wonder I felt crummy all this time."

[Jak Snide]

The captain leaned back in his cot, one hand rising to hold his chin as he took in the ramifications of what Cryvus had told him. After several seconds of silence he responded vocally.

"This is grave news, grave indeed. You said the mutants are under the sway of whatever is down there. How many did you encounter? Were they all enslaved by this abomination?"

[Kelne]

"We saw in excess of a hundred, by my reckoning. All enslaved save one. And that one was most certainly not kindly disposed towards us." From the look of despair on the big mutant's face as he was torn apart by the zombies, Cryvus knew he hadn't been with them. But he had sealed his fate when he killed a member of the crew, and Cryvus would not mourn his passing.

"They are all of them damned, captain. And given the chance, they will drag us down into damnation with them."

[Jak Snide]

"Along with the cargo." He exhaled, clutching at his forehead. "The Machenko Dynasty will not be pleased. Nor the Administratum. Those weapons were bound for Iocanthus, as you are." He shook his head. "Generations without incident. Since the coming of Saint Gobain in my great-grandfather's time we've heeded his words of tolerance, believed in his decree that the twisted might redeem them through service. And now...this." He gestured outwards with both arms then slumped forward, now looking utterly despondent.

"You're correct, of course. The cargo is lost. No sense in loosing the ship and her crew as well. Phrix, you know what to do."

The tech-priest inclined his head forward in acknowledgment and, moving from servitor to servitor, issuing a series of twittering notes from beneath his hood. They responded to these noises, as did the machines they were bound to. After a few moments the priest turned to face the captain, his face mostly concealed by a large vox-unit and several cables. "The Brazen Sky will emerge from the immaterium in two-point-seven standard minutes, Captain Norosgov. Astropath Telmach reports that, Omnissiah willing, we will once again be fit for warp transit within the hour."

Norosgov nodded and ran a hand across his shaven scalp before turning his attention back to the acolytes. "Three minutes. Then all this shall be resolved." He leaned back, looking less tense than before. "Now, tell me what happened down there. In detail. What became of Sergeant Bronson and her security team?"

[Christian]

Mithras was, despite his mood, somewhat awe-struck by the sights of the bridge. He'd hardly ever seen as much (working) technology in the same place, and that couples with the awe-inspiring presence of priests of the Omnissiah... breathtaking.

But, as things were, his anger once more boiled back to the surface; the recent deaths of several of the ships' crewmembers had been avoidable, but here the captain was talking about understanding and tolerance...

"The imperium has many creeds and mottos, captain," Mithras began slowly, "and one of them is that 'A narrow view sees better'. Your men were all slaughtered, needlessly, because in your unfounded faith of this Saint Gobain, you forgot that we are at war. We have always been at war, and we will always be at war. 'Cast out the mutant, the traitor and the Heretic. For every enemy without, there are a hundred within!' 'The rewards of tolerance are treachery and betrayal'!" The words were fired out like from a machine-gun; it seemed as if the guardsman was slowly building himself into a fervor as his eyes rolled in their sockets, his mouth widely agape with every syllable he pronounced and his body tense and quaking. "You complain to us about an uprising, Captain? About nobles being unpleased? About the Administratum? How dare you presume to understand anything beyond your station, when clearly you have incompetently dealt with what is your task!? You should be content with the fact that we still draw breath, for that means that the full wrath of the Imperial will have yet to swoop down upon you and your measly ship like a bird of prey! In the Emperors' name you shall burn the heretic, kill the mutant and purge the unclean!"

[Jak Snide]

The captain narrowed his eyes and sat forward, waiting for Mithras to finish his tirade before he spoke again.

"Do not forget your station, passenger, you who dares to board my ship and tell me how to conduct my business. If you were among my crew I would have you expelled from the airlock for such insolence. You have no comprehension of what is required to keep the Imperium running, being the dirt-born serf that you are. The loss of even this single cargo will have far reaching effects and will make several powerful people very upset. Compared to the grand workings of the Munitorum and the corporations a small, void-bound population of mutants is insignificant. Or would you have had me lead my crew in a costly purge that would cripple the operation of this vessel?"

Norosgov eased into the back of his cradle, his anger spent. "If there was a reasonable solution to the problem then I would have enacted it long ago. I hold little love for the twisted, but they were a benign and entrenched presence." The vibrations of the ship diminished as he spoke, and the captain looked over to the tech-priest at work. "Good, we have left the warp. Status report, Phrix."

The man turned and inclined his head. "Plasma reactors cooling, sire. The Chief Enginseer reports that some minor repairs are required, but these should be complete within the previously stated time frame. All sealed bulkheads are holding and we are prepared to expose the holds to the void. Warp engine idling, and the gellar field is disengaged."

The captain nodded and replied. "Good, continue to-aagh!"

The man clutched his head with both hands as he reeled backwards as if struck by some blunt trauma. And then, between the captain's cradle and the acolytes, another joined then. A young woman wearing a simple pilgrim's robe appeared in front of them, her features indistinct and glowing with a soft blue light. Even stranger was the fact that the acolytes could see through her as if she was a holo-projection.

"Captain," she said, her accent strange and musical, "you're not living up to your word."

[Kelne]

"Carry out your orders, crewmen," Cryvus said, stepping forward to stand directly before the apparition, staff held firmly in one hand. All thoughts as to the impropriety of Mithras' statements were abruptly forgotten.

"We are altering the deal," he informed her grimly, "For there can be no bargains struck with those who embrace damnation. Accept your end with grace or rail against it as you will, but end you shall."

[Jak Snide]

Captain Norosgov was still reeling from whatever force had struck at him. The tech-priest looked on in silence, an impassive spectator. The apparition adjusted it's facing without a shift in it's stance, rotating slightly to regard Cryvus and the other acolytes. It's face conveyed amusement and mild surprise.

"So this is where you got to. You're troublesome, you know that? I was just doing my job, like I told the good captain here I would." Her voice changed, shifting to match that of Norosgov. "Remove the muties from my ship! Dispose of them and I'll get you to Iocanthos!" Her voice reverted. "And we're almost done! The mutants are all lined up nice and quiet in the holds, ready to be sucked out into space. Just what they deserve after all the work they've done. Well, all but a few." The blue radiance dimmed and darkened. "If you're changing the deal, interlopers, then I will as well. If I'm to meet my end I'll see this whole ship joining me in my so-called "damnation." Vent the holds. I dare you."

"We remain prepared to do so." the tech-priest announced, looking for confirmation from someone. The captain didn't look like he'd be issuing orders for the time being.