Rogue Trader: Lord of the Immaterium

[Aaron]

Beyond the limits of Imperial space lies a system not often visited, with no human or Xeno presence there isn't much point. A few planets, a field of asteroids, they've gone unvisited for centuries until now.

With a burst of light the Vehemens Raptor emerges from the hell of the warp, trailing residue of the psychic manifestations common in that environment. A young vessel by the standards of her culture, she is brilliantly adorned with brass and gold gargoyles with three chevrons painted across her bow. The master Darrius Radhe has brought his ship to this lonely fringe world to give his cherished daughter a gift, one he hopes will bring honour, glory and fortune to both her and the family.

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Jon Osbourne walks the finely decorated corridors of the Vehemens Raptor, bound for the quarters of his masters daughter. Long has he served the family and his age and past have taken a toll on his character. Though a duly appointed member of the Imperial Cult, he concerns himself more with coin and spirits these days then spreading the word of the God Emperor. Finely dressed in a black duster, breeches, shirt and cap, a gleaming aquila pendent hangs from his neck and dark glasses adorn his face. In accordance with his position as the protector and mentor of his masters most cherished child, he wears a chainsword at his hip.

Finding the hatch he seeks, he depresses the vox-stud on the wall and awaits a response.

[Tyyr]

Calliope finished the last few strokes of the brush across her cheek and set it down. Trying to arrange her make up to make it appear she had little on took a lot of time and effort, far more than simply dolling herself up would have taken. That would have been what would be expected of her though, to doll herself up in some gaudy get up with equally gaudy make up, with gold, platinum, and rare gemstones dripping off every seam. Calliope hated doing what was expected of her.

Not that she didn't enjoy her father's wealth, she did very much so and very often. She simply preferred to not wear half of it on her sleeves. Picking up her belt off the end of the dressing table she buckled it on. The belt itself was a simple strap of leather but the buckle was, in her opinion, exquisite. Though she wouldn't have divulged where she'd picked it up to anyone outside the family she admired the simple elegance of the eldar sigils upon it. The buckle, and what hung from the belt, two finely wrought pistols, an ancient power saber, and her personal favorite, a xenohide whip, were much more in line with her personal preference for display's of wealth. The weapons, combined with the edges of the masterfully crafted carapace armor that peeked from beneath her bodice and dress, were the only clue that she was someone of stature aboard the ship. An outsider would have been the only one to have thought otherwise though.

When the door chimed she strode across the deck of her cabin towards the door, a not insubstantial trek of a good twenty five meters. She was the daughter of the captain after all. Glancing at the small vid monitor beside the door she quickly thumbed it open. "Ozzy!" She squealed happily, lunging forward and wrapping the priest who'd been her constant companion for years up in a big hug.

[Coalition]

Malakar felt the ship depart the Immaterium, and gently opened his sight. Staring at the faint glow fo the Astronomicon, he reminded himself that even out on the Fringe, the Emperor's light was still present, you just needed to keep one's mind on it.

Sitting in a psy-chair, he began to tune his mind with the onboard choir, to see if there were any messages, along with checking what the date was.

[Mikey]

Nils sat in the stateroom assigned to him aboard the Vehemens Raptor and absently rubbed the familiar sore spot at the nape of his neck. Even his practiced fingers could barely feel the precise scars there. He looked around at his possessions, still stacked where the cargo servitors had deposited them, and rose to find the mirror. He checked himself, certain that Radhe would be calling for some sort of conference sooner or later. A deep scarlet adept's robe only partly covered a finely-wrought set of light carapace armor and the deep grey synskin underneath. The butt of an ancient inferno pistol, polished with use and time, peeked from a shoulder rig, and an exquisite bolt pistol hung at Nils' right hip. His rebreather hung around his neck and his visor was pushed up onto his close-cropped chestnut hair; his helmet was left on a side table, next to his worn but well-made hellgun.

His pale blue eyes stared back at him as he stroked his neatly-trimmed beard and wondered. Someone looking for work - and to make his name - among the free travellers of the void certainly knew the name Radhe, and would be crazier than a spring grox to turn down an offer of employment aboard one of his ships. Still, Nils couldn't help but wonder why he, of all people, had received the summons. Surely Radhe had economists, book-keepers, book-cookers, accountants, lexmechanics, investigators, and operatives aplenty. Perhaps, Nils thought suddenly, he was meant to work for some junior lieutenant of Radhe's.

Nils sat and sipped at the cup of recaf sitting on the arm of the chair. He grimaced, realizing it had gone cold and bitter some time ago, then relaxed. This might work out nicely... anyone with a stint of experience working under Darrius Radhe would surely know how to use Nils' abilities as an advisor and operative, and would allow him his voice in matters of his field. He would go far beyond those petty voices of the collegia.

[Reliant121]

The familiar feel of leaving the warp shuddered the Vehemens Raptor as it tore free from the empyrean. Almost as an automatic response, Aestaban's eyes fluttered awake. He sat up with a start. His clothes were as they where when he had slept, A long deep red robe that covering the Carapace armour that hung over his gaunt body. Aestaban lifted himself from his bed and wandered aimlessly toward a wall mirror. His hair, pitch black, disappeared into the hood that sheltered his head from the light of the room. He smiled to himself softly, and reached for a pot of cold recaf. It was as vile as it usually was cold, but it wasn't any matter. At least it was liquid.

Why he had been called upon, he did not know. As Explorator tech-priests would go, Aestaban Caraille was hardly the best. Equipped well enough, but experience was lacking. No matter, the skills of a tech-priest were valuable indeed.

[Coalition]

Malakar left his meditation chamber, to make his report. Their arrival had taken three months in real time, even though only one week had passed inside the ship. No messages had arrived for the Vehemens Raptor via the local Astropaths, and he had updated their location to help route future messages. His meditation had allowed him to bask in the dim light of the Astronomicon, still visible at this distance, yet faint.

Finishing his meditation, he moved down to the storeroom he had been granted as a target chamber. Meditating on the power and rightous fury of the Emperor, he began destroying the scrap inside the room, while shielding himself from the debris it was causing. He would spend almost an hour in the room, stopping when he was either finished, or summoned.

His first target appeared, and Malakar winced at the paint job on the false target. Enemies of the Emperor should not be painted in pink primer.

[Aaron]

Osbourne pats the girl affectionately on the back before breaking her embrace. "Calli, your father wishes an audience with you. Something about reaching our destination and a gift, I tuned out after a bit. His liquor is quite good you know."

[Tyyr]

"Mmm, yes it is," Calliope replied. Her father didn't tolerate anything but the finest aboard his ship and that included the liquor. She'd taken a few sips of the stocks since returning and it had confirmed that the simpletons dirt side had no clue about the finer things in life. "Well we can't keep Daddy waiting now can we Ozzy?" She'd kept her father waiting many, many times before just because she could and she knew he'd tolerate it. She'd never once kept him waiting when she knew he had a present for her though. "Let's get a move on," she said cheerily before casting her eyes about her cabin. "Now where did I put my hat?"

Several long minutes of searching finally turned up her simple leather tricorn. "Ah, here we are, let's get going Ozzy, get the lead out," she chided as she left her cabin and headed for the bridge.

[Aaron]

Ozzy chuckles to himself as he leads his mistress out into the corridor and towards the command area. The walk is short, the ships designers having thoughtfully located the luxury quarters near the nerve centre of the ship. Short of the bridge, Ozzy takes a turn into a long corridor dominated at one end by a massive set of bronze double doors. Twice as high as a normal man, they are flanked on either side by a pair of immaculately dressed members of the ship masters personal guard. Bronze helms and chestplates over a scarlet red uniform, they hold beautiful wooden stock autoguns at port arms.

As Ozzy and Calli step to the doors, they bring the rifles up in a salute, their feet crashing to the deck in unison as the Priest and his charge step through the doors.

Darrius Radhe's quarters are lasciviously furnished and smell of wood and cigar smoke. In the corner of the room, stands a hulking Ogryn and a broad, severe looking human. At the sight of his daughter, his aged face breaks out in a large smile and he steps from the couch he had been seated on.

"My dear, thank you for coming. I have great news for you!"

[Tyyr]

"Daddy!" Calliope squeals. She dashes across the cabin to her father's arms and hugs him tightly. "News?" She pushes away from her father to consider him. "What news?"

[Aaron]

"Why the best kind my dear, a warrant, a ship and men to call your own." Radhe shuffles over to his desk and rummages through some papers until he comes across a standard astropathic message form. "Your uncle came across a derelict in this very system some months back, he owes me a favour, several in fact and he sent me these details."

He skims the copy, while Ozzy helps himself to some chocolates, shaped into various bats and poultry.

"At our last stop we took on double the usual press gangs and bilge scum, along with a company of good troops for you. As well as these two fine fellows." At that Radhe indicates the Ogryn and the human in the corner. "I already had a warrant for you of course. We'll be within identification range of the derelict in a few hours and we can see what we've found. Your Uncle did indict that he felt it was a naval ship though."

Radhe flops himself back down on the couch, "well? What do you think?"

[Tyyr]

Calliope blinked trying to absorb the news. She'd expected to have her own ship one day, she was the favored daughter of a well to do Rogue trader after all. She just hadn't expected it quite this quickly. She'd expected... well she'd expected a few more years, maybe a decade or two to relax in her father's opulence. Still, this was good news, excellent news. She lunged at her father again and crushed him in another hug. "I can't wait to see it!" she squealed as she planted kisses on his cheek.

[Deepcrush]

Enrick and Buck approached the young girl. The inhuman pair easily towered everyone in the room. "We are at your command Captain Calliope." Buck attempted a salute. "We make good for killing enemies!"

[Tyyr]

Calliope straightened up, adopting her arrogant captain's daughter vibe. "Excellent, if my father has selected you I have no doubts of that." She cast a glance at the Ogryn, "Well obviously. You're too large for the Navigator's throne."

[Deepcrush]

The Ogryn frowned. "Thrown is for the Emperor." Enrick slapped Buck on the shoulder. "She meant to say chair."