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Warhammer 40,000: The Lost World

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" It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the Master of mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die. "

This Imperium's power has never truly faltered since the Heresy long ago that shook it's homeworld to a breaking point and left millions dead on Terra alone. Since then, the entire military has been re-organized to disallow this from re-occurring, and the Holy Inquisition has been more careful and much more paranoid around the Space Marines Chapters, lest another Warmaster Horus ascend from their ranks.

Recently, much focus has been placed on a small world known only as Prospective 4-3.M, located far in an uncharted and greatly shunned area of space beyond the safer reaches of Imperial-controlled space. The entire system had gone unnoticed but for the occasional Rogue Trader or pilgrim who have ventured in until recently, when a listening post out in the Imperial-held edge of the Ghoul Stars intercepted a garbled Astropathic transmission, it's sender dying as he spoke.

"T-they... come.. Innumerable legions.. undying even under a tempest of fire.. and the void of.. space.. "

The listening post's Astropath sent word back to Segmentum Ultima Command immediately, though the Inquisition somehow received the message first and informed the Guard that they would handle it themselves, requisitioning several units of Storm Troopers and other forces as they 'handled' the obviously.. unimportant situation. A single ship, an ancient Grand Cruiser donated to the Inquisition by the Navy after a near-loss over the contested Stratix colonies and known as the ' Reliant of His Word ' was recommissioned and moved from it's shipyard resting place, and with these forces, was moved deep into that region of space, bound for the newly named Prospective 4-3.M.

As she exits the Immaterium, the crew is awoken and roused to their duties, as their destination lies only days away from their point of arrival.

RULES
This is where you come, people! Whether you a loyal servant and hero of the Imperium of Man, or just another ugly rampaging Greenskin looking for a good fight, your adventure begins here, in this place. Some experts believe this message from Prospective to be considerably old, so no doubt others have already left for or located Prospective already.

However, this Grand Cruiser is where the Imperial players will 'spawn in'. Two tactical squads of Space Marines, a single team of Grey Knights, and Sisters of Battle, along with some hundred or so Storm troopers are currently based on the ship, why not join them for the trip? If you don't want to be a part of this team, please let me know and I'll see if we can work something out. Please note that Inquisitors often hire mercenaries, so even traditionally non-imperial beings (some) or humans could begin here on-board. As well as this, there are some two-hundred or so human crewmen, two Navigators, and the ship's own unit of Navy patrol officers.

For the Xenos and traitors, you may either begin on some small ship bound for Prospective, or as part of a miniature fleet. Whatever you decide to do, Prospective is currently out-of-bounds until 'Reliant' locates it, as she is the closest and most assured of it's location. If you spawn with a battle-group, please know the current limit on ships-per-fleet is four, only one of which can be considered as a starting point for characters of that faction. No capital ships are allowed. Each ship may host it's own NPCs and grunts, so feel free to liven them with any sane amount of character-interaction. You
MUST spawn aboard a ship. No one has landed on the world itself yet.

Now, here are the races you may choose from:

Humanity. (These aren't just military groups like the Marines or Guard, you could be a Rogue trader or support staff for the Inquisition force.)

Forces of Chaos (Undivided/KSTN) (You can be a heretical mutant, a traitor in a high position, or just another Chaos Space Marine with an oath to destroy the Imperium.)

Craftworld Eldar (The Alaitoc craftworld is rumored to be located in this area. Other Craftworlds are available though. Despite the name, this also includes the Rangers and the Death Reapers.)

Dark Eldar (Raiders and pirates of all allegiances frequent this system, perhaps you're interested in this newly-discovered world for loot or a new base?)

Tau Empire (The only other truly intelligent race in Warhammer 40K, they are also be interested in Prospective, as it is based in an area of space they have not yet taken a foothold in. Note that you may need to do some extra work, as the Tau may appear as part of the plot as of the upcoming Part 2.)

[If you'd want to be of another race, just post a request. I purposely didn't put up the Orks, Necrons and some other races.]


Here is the most basic character template, you may find time to alter it ever so slightly:

Name: The name or callsign of your character.
Age: The age of your character.
Race: Obviously, what race you come from.
Faction: (only really necessary for Chaos or Imperials, this can also be used for Craftworlds and Tau Colonies to show where you're coming from.)
Wargear: The gear, weapons and armor you will be using in the field.
Loadout: Specialized and/or uncommon equipment. Pleas note specialist or unorthodox training received here.
Appearance: What your character looks like. If you'd please, note all scars, tattoos or other distinguishing marks. Please try to be at least a little detailed, this is so I can build up an idea of how that personage appears.
Biography: I don't care if it's long or short, just don't make it too small. This also shows me if you're any good at this type of role playing. Also list any special skills or abilities this character has. This should include a short history of your character's past.


NOTE: If you have a picture which you want to represent your character, then please post a link to said picture or put it in HIDDEN tags, large or even mid-sized files will stretch the page, and this is unappealing to the eyes!

I don't want any ridiculous characters, whether they be overpowered Daemon Princes of Khorne or evangelists with a mighty hammer and possessed of the Emperor's riiiiighteeeous fureh. No Dreadnoughts or Terminators will be allowed, although I may be tempted to allow Grey Knights to don Terminator suits. No especially high ranks will be given out unless requested, and please limit yourself when it comes to your loadout/gear. This is a reconnaissance mission with just a little kick, okay?


If you would like to join or are interested, please post.

UPDATE: 1 Fixed some rules for spawning. Enhanced the character sheet with small, minor changes.
I am also working on adding a list of available equipment for anyone who doesn't know exactly what they want to use.
UPDATE: 2 Edited the sheet, and the backgrounds. (Sep/23/10)
 
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Name: Naesha Faye Mist
Race: Human
Faction: Sisters of Battle
Rank: Seraphim Superior
Wargear: Artificer Armor, Power Fist, wrist-mount Storm Bolter, Seraphim Jump Pack, Rosarius.
Appearance: 5'6" in height and weighs about 145 pounds. Has waist-length dark brown hair, dark green eyes, a somewhat tanned skin tone, and a scar that runs from her left shoulder down her back (Although generally not visible as she will usually have her Armor on)
Biography: (Working on it)
 
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Razek, I would have posted in yours, but I honestly think the storyline was.. a tad over-done. It's just the same story as each and every Dawn of War game. Why not join mine?

Here is my own character:

Name: Allain Torgamund
Race: Human, Space Marine, (Formerly of the Scythes of The Emperor Chapter) Currently assigned to Deathwatch.
Faction: Space Marines.
Rank: Techmarine
Loadout: Artificer Armor, Servo-Arm, Power-Axe and a bolt-pistol.
Appearance: Allain has the same chiseled features and thick neck of the average space marine, with crew-cut graying hair and a strong brow. He has mossy green eyes and two campaigner's studs set in above his right eye, along with a Martian wrench tattoo under that eye.
Biography: He tinkered constantly with his company's vehicles, and after a decade of dedicated service to his chapter, he requested to join the delegation to Mars and went to learn more about the holy machines he used. After nearly a century of study, he returned to his chapter, but during the battles surrounding the incursion of Hive Fleet Kraken, the Scythes of The Emperor were brutally devoured by the Tyranids and only a few remained. After this, with only a skeleton remnant of the chapter, he was reassigned to operate under the Inquisition as one of very few permanent members of the Deathwatch. He is known among is brothers as being long-winded, but also for being relaxed under some of the most terrible situations that the Inquisition has sent his unit into. Also less-then-well-known to have nearly fallen under the grasp of a Khornate warband sometime after the second Tyrannic war.
 
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Razek, there's absolutely nothing wrong with your idea, I was just thinking aloud about the fact that it's far too reminiscent of the DoW games.

Fussiler, in what capacity? I'll allow you to be an Alpha Legionnaire, I just want to know what you'll be doing.
 
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Well, here are the specifics for you if that's what you wanted to do, and no, the Inquisition cannot detect you as there's some sort of disturbance emanating from the planet itself. Also, you cannot be too close to the planet, as entering a certain range will have dire consequences.

In other words: Approved.

I think we'll begin this RP once we get 1-2 more people, seeing as how we can't exactly hope to get a whole lot more to join.
 
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Well mine doesn't seem like it's going anywhere so I'll join in.

Name: Elysia
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Rank: Sergeant
Faction: Imperial Guard
Combat Role: Kasrkin Marksman
War Gear: Hellgun, Sniper Rifle, Melta Bombs, Frag Grenades, Power Knife (Exactly like a power sword only knife size)
Appearance: http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&section=&global=1&q=kasrkin#/d2po5n3 With her helmet off she, she has shoulder length black hair.
Personality: Very intelligent, she is precise and calm in a battle, she is very friendly towards her team.

Side Notes about Elysia: She was actually born in the Elysian System. Later she became an Elysian Drop Trooper. She is named after the system. She knows how to fly Valkyries and Vendettas.
 
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Is it possible to be a human mercenary with former excperience from the Death Korps of Krieg? Having been lost and presumed killed on a mission on some planet, presumably agains orks or something, then finding himself waking up with amnesia and the only identification he's got is his Krieg uniform?
 
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Uh sure, sounds like a worthy story. But where would he start? Would it be alright if you were currently a passenger on the Inquisition ship, seeing as how they hire mercenaries? You could be new on the ship.
 
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Name: His true name is unknown, he is known as Grim, due to his Krieg uniform, attitude and for never removing his gasmask.
Age: Unknown, probably in his early thirties.
Race: Human
Faction: Mercenary, former Death Korps of Krieg Guard.
Wargear: Krieg uniform, no98 Lucius Pattern Lasgun, multi-purpose knife (serves as a field tool and bayonet), Frag Grenades.

Appearance: Beeing six feet and four inches tall, and constantly wearing the Krieg Uniform, no one actually knows how he look. Actually, he has dark hair and grey eyes, pale, almost dead-looking skin and a thin beard.
Biography: Grim was once a soldier in the Death Korps of Krieg. On a mission in Ork-infested territory, he got knocked down by a Stickbomma and fell unconscious. While his squad succeded in the mission, he was thought dead, and was left behind. He woke up almost two days later not knowing who he was or where he was. He wandered throughout the wilderness for days, if not weeks, until finally stumbling across a camp of mercenaries. They were first scared and sceptical to him wearing the uniform of the Death Korps, but after understanding that he did not know who he was, they convinced him to join the mercenary company. After viewing himself in the mirror for the first time since he woke up, he developed a mild case of Spectrophobia, believing that the gas mask he wore actually was his face. He rarely speaks and never look directly at mirrors.

He is a well diciplined and highly skilled soldier, with scarce memories of his training in the Death Korps of Krieg. He is very skilled with the bayonet, and is a fearsome foe in close combat.

His uniform colors match these miniatures.
krieg2.jpg

 
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Name: Aman
Race: Human
Faction: Chaos Undivided.
Wargear: Power Armour, bolt pistol
Loadout: Able to cameouflage himself easily, specialized in stealth.
Appearance: Tall Space Marine, two horns on his helmet and the sign of the Alpha Legion on his shoulder and a small amulet.
Biography: Recruited on the hidden homeplanet of the Alpha Legion, he soon got his first taste of combat in the Great Crusade, eager to learn the ways of stealth and deception. As the Alpha Legion began to distance itself from the others, he became one of the more moderate members of the Legion who did not wish a conflict with the other primarchs and legions. However, his mind slowly changed, influenced by others. After the conflict of Tesstra Prime, where he had led a brutal ambush against the defenders, he got the lead of a small force. (?)
Slowly, he was led to Chaos, and at the Drop Site Massacre the Traitor Legions fought against the Loyalists Legions, he made his choice. After that, he was led by a higher rank then him and fought a couple of occasions against the reinforcements that were in a hurry to Terra. As the Traitors were defeated, he scattered from his superiors and wandered the Galaxy, launching raids and such at times. At times he and his brothers joined up with other warbands, but such an union would shatter after the task was done. By then he had noticed the small planet called Prospective 4-3.M and started to set up a stronghold, to pave the way for something bigger.

Note; I'm not even close to knowing the WH40K universe as you guys, so if anythings wrong, then tell me and I'll edit it out.
 
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Introduction [Begin]

No worries, even if you don't know as much, you seem to know enough.
We will begin once everybody is on. Expect me to edit this post with the introduction soon.

INTRODUCTION
As the multi-colored distortion of the Warp faded into the more comforting inky black of open space, Navigator Tashj exhaled and relaxed in his seat, the bridge crew noticeably calming down as Servitors entered and carried away two crewmen who had been less fortunate. He looked over to the Machine Cult's representative, the impressive-looking Magos whose name he had yet to hear. The tall figure turned to face Tashj, who could see now that his lower jaw was replaced with a set of wires feeding into a small Vox-caster unit. His eyes were also bionic, and barely resembled anything natural except in their cylindrical shape. The Magos noticed the Navigator and nodded solemnly before turning back to his console. Tashj had come to realize that the man was completely unafraid of the Warp, or was unable to express that fear. Like any sane man but perhaps not too common for his kind, the Navigator's head was filled with stories of miscalculations and nightmares that occurred within that daemon-touched zone of unreality. He shuddered, considering this. As the crew and the servitors returned to their positions, the portcullis behind them raised, and two men entered the deck. Tashj recognized Lord Inquisitor Ivan St. Dan-e-Mer, of the Ordo Xenos. The short and stocky Inquisitor was deep in tense conversation with the other man, a Navy officer who was known as the "Mack-Knife" by the crew. The huge and muscular man was especially hated by many because he was a mutant, although the purity seals that were pinioned on his chest were enough for many of the command staff and for Tashj. On his leg, he could see the huge dagger that had earned the officer his nickname. Although not visible from his seat, he also knew that under the uniform, the bone structure of the man was twisted and far more complex then the average pure human. Tashj shrugged, then turned back to space.


"Inquisitor, we've made good time," said Captain R. Vendis. The gaunt Vendis didn't turn to face the newcomer, but he recognized the sound of St. Dan-e-Mer's ceramite boots slamming onto his clean deck. Wincing, he turned and grinned. "Lieutenant Mack, give our guests a wake up call." Mack-Knife nodded quietly and turned heel, back to where their newest occupants had set themselves up. Ivan St. Dan-e-Mer knew Vendis well, and believed him when he was told that it would be exactly seven days before they would arrive. He looked over the crew, gazing a little disapprovingly as he caught sight of the mutant lieutenant leaving the deck. It was sick, really, that such a being could be allowed to serve on one of His holy star-vessels, he thought to himself. The Navy must be lax in it's recruiting processes. He mentally noted to himself that he would report this after he returned to Terra before he realized he had nearly walked into the Magos Explorator, the eerie Xakanith Dackard. The silent Machine Cultist looked down at him with it's false eyes, and Ivan could almost sense the malice that it's peeling face focused at him. He suppressed a shudder as he recalled their first meeting, then nodded curtly at Dackard before striding away hurriedly off to his own chambers.


Meanwhile, First Lieutenant Mack had come to the newly-anointed barracks, where their new allies rested. He considered tasking another crewman with the job, considering the zealous Astartes' hatred of mutation, natural or otherwise. Finally, he straightened himself up, then activated the door rune. Even as he entered, he heard clicks as the Space Marines sat up or turned to face him. While most of them wore those angrily-featured, some were without and he could see their ire. Coughing, he spoke finally. "Sirs, we've exited the Warp. You may now move through the ship, although I urge you to leave us to our work and keep within certain areas." Before they could speak in return, he hurried away and repeated the process with the other fanatics on the ship. Sometimes Mack-Knife hated his line of work, although both he and Vendis knew that the First Lieutenant was extremely good at what he did. This, he was not quite so good at... As Mack finally returned to the mess after an hour of hard glares from Imperial zealots, warrior women and arrogant soldier-boys who stood up to his chest, he sat down at a table with two of the security watchmen and a Menial dubbed 'Cook'. Sighing, he shook off questions as he made a small jab directed at the door as several huge figures entered almost silently. Some of the marines noticed the massive lieutenant and nodded as they sat on their side of the hall. After them filed most of the Troopers, stretching their muscles and speaking loudly as they joked among themselves or bragged. Their officers gave pointed glances to the superhuman marines watching them, but did nothing to quiet their charges. Many even laughed along or compared their tattoos with the troops. Now, Mack could see that a unit of the Sisters of Battle, some group of fanatical women dedicated to warfare who were rumored to rival the marines in their dedication to the undying Emperor, had followed after the Storm Troopers and entered, speaking softly as they entered and passed through the ranks of sociable troopers.



[Imperial Characters, You may now roam the ship.]
[Xenos/Chaos, post your opening]
 
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((Alright than I'm fine with it))

Elysia walked around the ship. She was wearing her Cadian Kasrkin Armor. Slung on her back was her Hellgun, and around her waist a power knife. On the side of her right thigh was her Hot-Shot Las Pistol. Elysia was carrying her sniper rifle in hands and was walking toward the mess hall to grab some food before deployment. It had been a long travel from her planet, Scantra was it's name. She was only drafted by the inquisition and taken from her home regiment. As Elysia was walking down a hallway a guardsman private walked past and bumped Elysia on the soldier. Elysia turned around, "Private!" The guardsman looked over his shoulder and saw a Kasrkin Sergeant looking rather disappointed. "Oh, uhh Ma'am! Sorry for nudging you ma'am I'm being hurried by the inquisitor." The private explained. Elysia glared at the guardsman and immediately warmed up to him. "Naw don't about it, it's happened to me a lot since I've been on this ship. Just remember to address rank next time alright?" Elysia gave the tip to the private. "Yes ma'am wont happen again ma'am." The private said as he saluted and walked away.
 
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Techmarine Allain also walked slowly down the same corridor, the massive form of his armor obstructing the back-and-forth flow of storm troopers and reassigned guardsmen in the hallway. He stopped for a moment and stood aside as a muster of Navy watchmen hurried past him into the mess hall, shotguns held out, probably to keep some of the pompous soldier-boy troopers in the mess in line. He began to move again as they passed, and then a younger guardsman came running past him, crouching briefly under him to pass through. Allain frowned, then watched as the young man narrowly avoided slamming into a sergeant, a Cadian by the regimental colors on her armor. Instead, he managed to clip her. The old Techmarine almost chuckled as the sergeant reminded him of her rank. Among the marines, he was considered to be the most outgoing, and the only member of the killteam besides the impudent Space Wolf, Udun Crowfeather, to have a human sense of humor and laxity.

He watched the sergeant continue on, then smiled and shook his head as she passed. He then continued on towards the hall.
 
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Silence.
It was silent, and he loved it, as he stared from his ship to the small planet below, filled with great potentional which he would utilize. What may have seemed to a simple thing to others was more… complicated for him. Others simply didn’t understand his view, his plans and his ways, just like the other legions had with the Alpha Legion. Tsk, the fools, never broadening their horizons. Lost in his thoughts, he kept on rambling in his mind, filling the empty halls with rage and thought. Heh. It wasn’t that unusual for him to do such things, but then again, nobody’s mind is empty, is it? He stopped. He focused.

Sighing, he stretched his arms to have the blood run freely again and moved his fingers in unison, testing if his hand still worked. Silly tradition. He looked around. He was alone... usually the ship wasn’t quite empty, but it was never full either, but how was that relevant again…? He shifted his eyes towards the direction where he noticed an Alpha Legionnaire walking towards him, relaxed. He found it strange, was he hiding something? Perhaps he was becoming paranoid, he told himself, chuckling. The soldier was obvious confused by the chuckle, but proceeded nonetheless.
‘’Hm?’’ he asked him, furrowing his brow.
‘’Seems nothing special in particular lives on the planet.’’ the Legionnaire simply responded, hiding a feeling of excitement, because he knew that they would soon get off this ship.
His men had been anxious to get into some action, as the last raid was long ago. Heh, he should've praised himself lucky with troops that didn't eliminate him if he did not what they wanted.
He nodded and dismissed him, and the Legionnaire left him.

All alone.

‘’You'll get action soon enough.'' he whispered to himself.
 
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Soon after, Allain leaned against one of the mess' hard walls, scratched with the angry graffiti of one-hundred and fifty eight years of service ferrying the Imperial Guard to warzone after warzone. Near him sat two of his companions, the psyker of the Blood Ravens chapter known as Anixamander, and the consistently silent Corian, of the Raven Guard. Allain watched an Enginseer fiddling with an oxygen filter located on the far wall, Corian stared at his own feet with something that vaguely resembled interest, and the psyker gazed about himself for some object that might prove interesting. He gave up looking until a door opened and several more Deathwatch marines entered and approached them. Corian looked up briefly before letting his eyes return to his boots. The ever solemn Brother-Sergeant Cretos stood nearby and exchanged words with a richly-adorned Commissar.

Suddenly, Anixamander felt a distinct throbbing pain in the fore of his head. He recognized the pain as the same he had felt occasionally during their month-long journey through the daemon-haunted Warp. Now, it felt much stronger, so he grunted something in farewell as he stomped out and back into the corridor, explaining that he felt a need to begin prayers early on this day. The others nodded sagely, but none followed. Instead, a willowy Servitor wheeled over to the group, a platter and some large tankards set atop it. "To celebrate me return to the Watch, I've taken the liberty to drink tonight in the Emperor's name. To thank him for helping us through the Warp, ya' see." the long-haired Udun said with a grin. Cretos rolled his eyes, but the battle-brothers each lifted a cup and breathed a prayer each before they drank. Some of the Storm Troopers noticed this and an infectious, if a little silenced, titter spread through the men of the 17th Storm Corps. Not heeding the troopers, the Marines continued, although Udun gave the sergeant who had just laughed behind him a very dark look, enough to silence him.
 
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Grim silently walked the corridors of the ship, restless. Memories had been troubing him lately, memories he thought of as illusions. Trenches, mud, blood and smoke. Poison gas and the thundering sounds of Krieg artillery. He did not know much about himself, he knew that he came from Krieg, after the remarks of several contractors. But that was about it, his life as a mercenary was the only true life he knew. Guardsmen and crew ran back and forth throughout the ship, everyone occupied by their own business and duties. His uniform did not excactly blend into the crowd, and neither did his height, he was a head taller than most guardsmen.

A marine walking in the corridor caught his eye, he wore the yellow and black of the Scythes of the Emperor, he had not seen any of them previously on the ship. He got curious now, a trait that had almost killed him on several ocassions. There weren't many Scythes left, and finding one here was not something he had excpected. He continued his restless walk, not sure where he was going to end up, but hopefully it would not be too far from the armoury, he was in need of some powerpacks.

((Damned, I got ninjaed.))
 
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He left his room and walked to the front of the ship where it was controlled. Grunting something, he looked around as he saw the Legionnaires walking around and preparing. Blegh. At least they were still doing something. He was about to turn around and walk away when a Legionnaire approached him.
‘’There’s a station floating in orbit.’’ he told Aman, handing him a piece of data on which all the information was.
He quickly had read it through, no information about hostiles.
‘’Hmm… hostiles?’’ he asked the soldier who had been waiting for a response.
The soldier shook his head, answering; ‘’Not that we know.’’
‘’Alright, land the ship on the station and we’ll find out.’’
He shouted the orders to the men controlling the ship, and after the co-ordinates had been distributed, the ship slowly started to move.

The space station would soon be in sight.

Heh. Quick enough.
 
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Elysia noticed the small regime headed for the mess hall armed with shotguns. She gave out a hum of curiosity and continued on with her business. Then before she was about to reach the mess hall she passed by hangar B's opened door, filled with Valkyries and Vendettas. Elysia quickly rethought her route and moved into the hangar. She loved Valkyries, she knew how to fly one herself. It was a standard for all Elysian Drop Troopers, but that was a thing of the past for her. She walked past a Vendetta with some nose art of a skimpy female commissar holding an over sized Lascannon. Elysia giggled a bit at the art. Then she looked over and saw a completely plain Valkyrie. It had come straight off of the assembly line and hadn't even gotten a first coat of regimental paint. It was completely unarmed and being cared sanctioned by a techpriest. Elysia walked up to it but was quickly stopped by one of the techpriests servitors. The technpriest finished placing a purity seal on on of the wings and turned to see one of his servitors bothering Elysia. "Away Severus, away..." The techpriest waved him off. The servitor looked back toward the techpriest and then walked off. Elysia raised an eyebrow toward the almost completely human appearance the priest had, aside from his mandatory biotic implants. The techpriest walked over to a workbench and removed his servo-pack. "You've taken an interest in this machine of mars?" The techpriest asked. Elysia looked toward the techpriest with a somewhat shocked looked on her face.
"This one came from mars?" Elysia asked.
"Yes, it's the first among a new line of Valkyries. We're codenaming it the Angel. I was the head of production and design for it." Explained the techpriest.
"I see, is it being brought for battlefield testing?"
"Unfortunately no, I have not yet found a pilot capable of flying it without damaging something crucial."
"Well umm, not sure if this counts, but I was once an Elysia Drop Trooper, we know how to pilot Valkyries very well."

The techpriest showed interest. He took a step forward to her. His mechanical eye zoomed out and glared at her. It went from red to green as it was scanning her. "Hmm yes, Elysia Dremallis, born in the Elysian system no doubt named after it. Sergeant, marksman, yadi-yadi-yada. Ahh here we are, service record. Four hundred confirmed kills, thirty-seven battles. Piloting record, hmm." The techpriest was quiet for a moment. "Yes, yes, you'll do, hurry now get in the cockpit."

Elysia was surprised by his sudden demands. "What!? But I'm not even prepared for flight!" The techpriest grabbed hold of her and guided her toward the prototype. "Don't worry about that. So a few new additions in this compared to regular Valkyries. This machine is layered in protective power armor equal to that of terminators. It's thrusters will leave an eldar vessel in a trail of dust so to speak. It is equipped with an on board AI which automatically scans it's pilot so don't be surprised. Oh and, what's your callsign at your regiment?" Elysia was about to climb aboard until she heard the question. "Err, Storm 3, why?" The techpriest had a somewhat annoyed look on his face. "No, no, your Elysian callsign." The techpriest waited for a response, "Ahh yes here it is, Legion 1, impressive, you were a squad leader." The techpriest inputted a couple things on his portable wrist computer. "Well, as of now this craft is sanctioned to you, and only you." Elysia was somewhat excited to have her own Valkyrie, especially one that none other has flown before. She climbed aboard and sat in the pilot seat within the cockpit. "The on board AI will show you the new features and get you ready to fly, other than that it should be exactly like the old Valkyrie." The techpriest added as he went back to his holo-comm transmitter. The transmitter came to life with the ship captain on it. "Sir, I have found a worthy pilot for the Angel, callsign Legion. She is getting ready for a test flight now." The captain looked pleased, "Good, I expect a report from the pilot after she has landed."

OOC: I'm going to sleep guys see you later.
 
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Grim noticed a sign reading "Armory" and headed down some stairs. He entered a vast network of rooms dedicated to different sections of the Imperial Military. Hopefully he would find some no98 Lucius Pattern powerpacks.

Soon he came to a munitions depot, and was pleased to find some fitting powerpacks for his lasgun. He checked with the munitions officer and went back the way he came and headed up the stairs for the massive mess hall.

Entering the vast mess hall, Grim clung to the walls, trying not to draw to much attention. He spotted the black and yellow marine again, leaning on a wall. The mess hall was full of soldiers and marines, and in a far corner sat a rag-tag looking gang. Mercenaries from the look of them. Grim headed in their direction.
 
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Even as Anixamander hurried through the crowded halls, he began to slowly realize why his head, and by some foul luck, his brain, hurt so. Looking around, he strode into one of the service corridors, his mind racing as he considered his predicament. Looking about himself, he could only see a pair of Menial Servitors as they sped by him on some urgent task for their masters. His thoughts returned to the problem at hand, as he drew his bolt pistol, gilded over with golden runes that brought ruin to His enemies. He looked around again, then raised his bolter...

Suddenly, he was unable to move himself. The arm that held the weapon twisted and wrapped around like jelly, the armor running across it like melting metals in promethium flames. His eyes widened, then he began to shake, when he realized his legs only responded to him by doing the same thing as his arm.

He knew he was trapped.

On the more populated side of the Reliant, Allain began to tire of the snide remarks of the drunken troopers, and almost smiled as he saw some of the more bold guardsmen who had tried to out-drink Udun lose their meal. Across the room, he caught a menacing figure in an old Guard-issue filter mask watching him, before the man turned to stand with some of the Inquisitorial mercenaries. As the menial servitors swept in, he walked away from the distracted unit and walked back into the corridor, passing the armory and one of two launch bays.

He kept his step going until he came upon the second bay, where some of his fellow Machine Cultists worked on the Guard's air units. He noticed the sergeant from earlier again, this time entering a plain & unarmed Valkyrie under the watchful eye of a Techpriest Adept. Technically, he was more entitled in the Machine Cult's hierarchy, so he approached the man, who surprisingly had a very little amount of biotics. He said a brief phrase in machine code in greeting to the Priest, who turned away from the Valkyrie as if from a major discovery. "What exactly do I see before me, servant of the Omnissiah?" He looked approvingly at the thick armor of the flier. "Besides the amplification of her hide, how else has this spirit's form been altered?"
 
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Slowly, a dark spot began to show up in space, because the sight had been blocked by the planet, but it stood beautiful as a black dot with a planet as background with the stars and the suns enlightening it, one might’ve spoken of art. Aman shrugged and observed as the ship slowly got closer and closer, the pilots steering very carefully. He would have their heads if they damaged the ship… Ships of Chaos were often awfully damaged, that’s what his opinion was. Exaggerated? Perhaps, but they did have some scratches.
Finally, he could see detail on the ‘dot’, noticing the fine constructions.
Carefully, the pilots landed on a platform that was meant for spacecraft, and it held. The doors opened, and the Alpha Legionnaires stepped outside.
‘’Fifteen men come with me.’’ Aman mumbled.

OOC: Can I make up the surroundings by myself?
 
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"I think you're with the wrong crew, gas-face! This be the mercenary table, go sit with the rest of your incompetent Imperial friends." One of the mercenaries spoke, his face scarred and twisted by years of combat in the most hostile enviroments. "Jeke, he is from Krieg, you better watch your words." one of the other mercenaries whispered, dark in both skintone and hair, the thick dreads hanging to his waist. Grim silently watched them, not moving. The mercenaries grew uneasy, being watched by the inhuman gas-mask face of the former Krieg Guardsman. "I'm Grim." He said, his voice coarse and twisted by the gas-mask. "I'm no guardsman." He continued, leaving the words to hang in the air for a few seconds. The mercenaries turned silent, and most of them looked away and focused on their drinks. One of them, a tall, muscular man vaguely resembling a catachan after an acid bath with a Heavy Stubber over his shoulder, lit a cigar and settled against the wall watching Grim with a vary eye.
 
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Udun Crowfeather eyed the implacable newcomer who had riled up the mercenaries. He watched as the argument began to escalate.. then they calmed and his shoulders slumped. Udun always loved to watch a good fight. He decided finally to approach the mercenaries, carrying a large bucket of strong-smelling liquor in one hand as he smiled at the increasingly tense men in front of him. Giving them a quick once-over, he could see that several of the more rattled or drunk mercenaries were eying him with extreme ire, their bloodshot eyes glaring up at him. "Hoy lads, naw what's the problem 'ere?"

A thick Catachan snarled at the Space Wolf as he spoke, and waved his autogun about for a second before lowering it to his side. "Don't want no trouble, marine, and we don't want you here neither." Udun grinned happily at the man, drawing another near-feral snarl from him. Something about this Deathworlder's stance told him that the man must be on some sort of combat drug, perhaps Fury or another of the type favored by the Inquisition's hired muscle. "Why dawn't you just drink up then?" The mercenary bridled, but he seemed a bit too afraid to try anything just yet, even to the impudent superhuman standing before him. In his mind, however, he saw only an annoying fool asking for a fight.
 
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Grim silently watched the heating argument between the catachan and the space wolf. He was in no mood to hinder a fight, quite the opposite actually. He started to polish his bayonet absentmindedly while watching the two men.

((leaving for a couple of hours))
 
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The drug-addled Catachan drew his fang knife, beaming as he heard the grating sound as it began to clear it's sheath. But before he knew it, a ceramite-encased hand had closed over his own knife-hand. He grunted as Udun quickly crushed the hand tightly. This barely hindered the mercenary, however, as the effects of whatever drug he was using began to affect him more. He tugged the surprised Space Wolf's arm away, and was even able to re-open his hand, tossing the knife into his other, undamaged hand. Growling in anger, Udun stood up to his full height and threw a weak punch, trying not to kill the human with his augmented strength. The Catachan deftly dodged the blow, and stabbed his knife into a weak point in the armor. Udun's eyes widened in anger and confusion, before he simply used his other hand to smack the Deathworlder away, sending the madman into a group of guardsmen, who only sent him back with a collective push.

Udun Crowfeather drew the knife from his arm, and as the still-wincing and crippled Catachan watched from the floor, broke it in his hands with little effort. Stepping up, he placed a boot on the man' chest, then pressed down, pinning him. The man's comrades just stood back and watched fearfully. The bloodshot eyes of the drugged Catachan never left Udun's grim features. Just as the braided Wolf was about to say something, Corian and another marine, uptight Dominic of the Ultramarines, ushered him away as a Navy man pressed a shotgun to the downed Catachan, as two others looped restraints onto him.

Udun almost laughed as he considered the brief fight of the night. "Back tae to drinkin' all the weak sip on this ship, I guess." He ventured jokingly, although without the usually talkative techmarine there, no one said much in return to the loudmouthed Wolf. He didn't care much, though. He looked to be drowning himself in the bucket.
 
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"Looks like that guy just got his ass kicked..." Grim commented hoarsly. The cigar-smoking mercenary looked at him then mumbled a swift "Indeed." He hesitaded a little, before he continued. "Some of'em ain't no good at keeping their mouths shut... and keeping their drugs of the lunch table. Sam is the name by the way." Sam laughed a little, then turned to staring into the room again.
 
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As they stepped out of the spacecraft and the Legionnaires started volunteering, Aman looked around, observing his surroundings. The whole station was filled with cargo boxes who could form a perfect hiding for an ambush... perhaps he could establish a stronghold here, perhaps. But now they had to scour the station from any regenades, not that they would be a match for Space Marines, but he couldn't affort any casualties.
''Let's get moving, ladies!'' he shouted, and the Legionnaires grunted while they started moving through the labyrinth, silent, deadly and careful, clearing the several platforms on the station, encountering nothing.. yet. However, suddenly, the path through the cargo led to an open space, filled with what seemed a camp of tents and even some trucks. The guards who guarded it started screaming for help as they spotted them.
''Take cover!'' Aman shouted.
 
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The techpriest bowed his head toward his greater kin. "It is an experimental machine blessed one. This here is the first of its kind. It is capable of warp travel. It also carries a heat sync stealth system and and extra weapon hardpoint for each wing. I am testing the new pilot whom I believe to have great potential to fly this young machine." Elysia stepped off the ladder and sat in the cockpit. "Wait a moment, where's my gunner?" Elysia quickly noticed only one seat for her. Then a soft female voice appeared from all around her. "That would be me, Elysia, I am the on board AI who will take control of the ships weapon systems, but if anything were to happen to me you have access to a killswitch where you may fire the weapons manually."
 
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Allain considered the wondrous machine, thinking of the massive potential of the prototype before him. He could see from the cipher etching on the hull that the Valkyrie housed not one, but two Machine Spirits, a risky but possibly genius concept. One of the two no doubt would control the weapon hardpoints and the ingrained defenses. Nodding his head in appreciation, he deftly lifted himself up and activated a rune on the hatch, entering and inspecting it. "Techpriest, have the hangar crew open the doors. We shall test out your new creation now, I would say." He tapped once on the door that linked the passengers to the sergeant sitting in the cockpit.

"I am Techmarine Allain, and it appears we will be flying together today. By what name are you known?" He looked over the spotless grey interior as he spoke, running his hand over the smooth upholstery and the spots where seats would soon be placed for the more unsteady guardsmen. He could only guess, right now, looking at the flier, that soon some unfortunate Guard units would soon be flying over the meat-grinder of the Imperial battlefield in this Valkyrie variant once a Forge-World picked up the blueprints. Interested now, he inspected a copy of the schematics that were held to the wall before him. As he read over it, he slowly reached for the servo-wire that would lnk him to this ship's AI coupling, so as to hear the conversation in the cockpit. "Sergeant, you may lock in when ready."
 
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"It's Elysia, Elysia Dremallis. Initiating space lock-down." Elysia said as she reached for the 'seal exits' switch. Once the switch was flipped the doors immediately closed and sealed themselves for space travel. "The Angel is prepared for take-off Legion." The AI said. The techpriests voice came up on the radio, "Now listen up Legion, this machine is still only a one of a kind so DO NOT damage it." Elysia nodded. The side thrusters on the wings roared to life as the new aircraft began to lift off. Elysia felt the noticeable difference in engine and thruster strength compared to the Valkyrie. "Uhh techpriest? We are still in warp we are not safe for take-off." Elysia noted. "Don't worry Legion, this machine can travel in the warp, it's hull is capable of fending off the horrors of the warp, you should be fine." Elysia flew the prototype toward the energy field. "Waiting on final word." Elysia added as she was hovering the prototype.
 
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"Interesting. A vestige of the Warp still remains behind from our passage through it's demoniac path." Allain used the servo-eyes from the cockpit to get a view of the last remnants of the twisting rainbow that still hung around the ship. near-human shapes twisted, moaned and curled up as they flew by, none noticing the Valkyrie or even the Grand Cruiser. The techmarine, however, realized a moment too late that one of the more shattered forms had settled itself onto the Reliant, though it was more of a shadowy outline then some Warp-spawned terror. In confusion, he wondered why the Navigator or the Grey Knights had not yet banished it, then as the timepiece in his head chimed with the song of a singing choir, he realized the fatal mistake the crew had made. He knew then that at that moment Navigator Lin Tashj and the Grey Knights were in deep conference with the Lord Inquisitor and some of the Ordo Xenos lords who had been placed in charge of the operation. None of them would be able to detect the presence of the warp-horror, as the chamber they used for the communications was strictly protected from psyker's vision or other means of telepathic penetration. "Sergeant Dremallis, this may be abrupt, but we must return to the ship. It is perhaps in grave danger!"

((OOC: The demon is going to possess one of my NPCs, but we have to figure out who that is. We all might even suspect each other!))

Meanwhile, Anixamander slowly began to whimper like a child, as his form stretched and tore itself. As his features ran like quicksilver, he had barely enough time to identify his mental attacker before his hood's defence safeguards set in, and his cranium imploded, splattering the deck with dark blood and brain matter. The being that had possessed his body too briefly found itself looking for a new host.

[FUSILLER1: Meanwhile, on the Station]
"Chaos marines! Get the 'ell back!" The men screamed in fear as the massive traitor marines came upon them suddenly, and most of them ran back wildly, scrambling back for safety. A few raised autoguns or stubbers to bear, firing indiscriminately at the armored Legionnaires, who easily dispatched them with quick bursts from their mighty boltguns. Two of the men ran to a rusted autocannon emplacement, a piece of old and outdated Guard-issue tech. The old gun fired a long burst at the traitor marines, although only a few of it's mighty shells struck targets, killing one Legionnaire outright and ending his corpse back a few steps. Meanwhile, one of the other men, in the cap and coat of some long-dead Imperial officer, stepped out of the camp, a painted Eldar shuriken launcher firing inaccurately at Aman, shouting wildly to the others to retreat. "Boys, get back to the vault! Destroy all the research, NOW!" He fired a short burst at a helmetless Alpha Legionnaire, clipping his forehead off like a piece of meat in a butcher's shop. From their weapons and cracked leather flak armor, the men could be most accurately described as pirates or renegade deserters.
 
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Elysia looked at the strange demon like creature on the ship. "What the hell! I'm turning this thing around. We have to warn the Inquisition!" Elysia turned the prototype around and made way for the hangar.

((Hey can I throw in my little twist? It's relevant to the demon.))
 
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((Sure, go ahead. But I already have it planned ahead who gets possessed.))

Allain heard the fear in the sergeant's voice, and he was forced to remember this wasn't some fearless superhuman warrior he was with, but an average human being forced to fight one of humanity's most ancient enemies. He fed a clip in his bolter, then watched as the Valkyrie headed back toward the hangar. "Careful, sergeant. This is a daemon of the Warp, and we don't know how much of it's power has come with it into our reality." He clicked on his voxcaster, ushering the rest of the killteam to search the ship for signs of some Chaos creature's passing. Cretos acknowledged the command, even though he was the leader of their Deathwatch unit. As the others spoke, Allain was sure he detected a note of some strange irony in their voices as he described the apparition he had seen briefly.

And no one could seem to find the Psyker, of all times Anixamander could have returned to his room with one of his famous headaches, it had to have been now.
 
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Elysia was about to bring the prototype into the hanger. Suddenly a large black ship appeared and it was getting closer to the large inquisition ship. Several daemons similiar in appearance to the one on the inquisition ship were on the unknown ship. "Warning: Hostile Lock on detected, prepare for evasive maneuvers." The AI warned. Elysia began getting nervous. "Dammit, Allain, use that vox caster and tell them to exit the warp IMMEDIATELY! I can't stay here or we're going to die, I'm exiting the warp. You've got sixty seconds!"
 
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The techmarine shuddered as he saw the daemons wailed and grinned like pups at the sight of the Valkyrie, each running forward to intercept it. "Damnit, Tashj! Can you hear me?! We have a high-level incursion on the hanger deck! I have multiple daemonic beings heading right for the Reliant! By the Throne, get us out now!" Apparently, someone heard him on-deck, as the sickly rainbow of light that surrounded the Reliant and the prototype Angel. There was sickening crunch and a bang as the Valkyrie gunship was tossed forward into the hangar by the sudden exit into normal space.

Allain shook himself, then kneed open the hatch, pulling himself up the side of the gunship and up to the cockpit. The sudden crash had nearly killed them, and he had to hurry to punch out the reinforce cockpit and pull the Cadian out. Nearby, the techpriest gasped in pain, since he had almost no bionics, and a huge section of metal had cut a deep gash in his leg, the wound leaking oil and blood. "Hurry, we have to find that Emperor-damned daemon before it does anything to harm the ship." He said as he lowered the sergeant to the ground, and passing here the lasgun she had dropped. The techpriest shook with pain as Allain helped him up, just as the fully-armored killteam entered the hangar to join them. "So far, we've been able to keep this problem on our channel, but if we don't hurry, some guardsman's going to find this daemon and then they'll panic." Cretos said quickly as he loaded his boltgun. The others nodded in agreement. "Corien, I want you to find Navigator Tashj and the Grey Knight captain, Telemnos, if I'm not mistaken. Apprise them of the situation, then I want you and Udun out looking for Anixamander." The marines all breathed a short a prayer, then the brother-sergeant ushered them out, Allain gesturing to Elysia to follow him. "One of my brethren, the psyker Anixamander, disappeared just before this daemon appeared aboard our vessel. If we can find him, no doubt he can be of help and can help explain the source of this evil, as his order and chapter have been ever involved in such matters."
 
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"I don't think he'll be of much help to anyone, actually."
Naesha stepped into view with the Psyker's body slung over her shoulder. Even as a Sister, she wasn't in armor at the time, instead in a loose-fitting set of clothes. She was, however, armed with two bolt pistols that were strapped to her legs. She took a few long strides into the bay and deposited Anixamander's corpse unceremoniously in front of her.
"I believe this causes a problem for all of us."
 
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The shuriken scratched at his armour and missed him, barely. As the regenades were retreating, he looked around at his men, noticing two casualties, while the rest had taken cover behind the cargo, with the gun attacking them. He thought quickly and threw a smoke bomb(?), making it hard to see where they were.
He pointed at five marines and started shouting.
''Find another way and try to cut them off!''
He raised his bolter and started looking around, noticing one marine with a rocket launcher.
''Fire at the damn machine gun and take it out!'' he commanded, angry because the marine hadn't done already.
The smoke had spread out and the marine jumped behind his cover, firing.

OOC: Is the rocket launcher okay?
 
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Grim immediately realised something odd had happened as the Reliant shook violently at the sudden exit from warp space, he grabbed swiftly reattached his bayonet to the rifle and tossed it over the shoulder then exited the mess hall. Hearing voices from the nearby hangar, he headed in that direction.
 
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