Dark Heresy: The Syndicate

[Mikey]

1902, Day One

Traks grinned slightly at Phebia's appreciation of the gun-cutter. "We'll have time to talk before our arrival, Sister, but begin to think about what sort of lead time the infiltration team should have in advance of your 'attack.' I think sooner rather than later would reinforce the charade of us being hotly pursued... 12 hours or so, perhaps?"

[Tyyr]

1902

Phebia nodded. "That will do. Certainly no more than eighteen hours. It must look like an active pursuit."

[Lighthawk]

1902

Phebia was not the only one taking an active interest in the ships. Haxta was doing her best to split her attention between the two vessels, her organic eyes taking in the lines and form of the Totodai, while her electronic eye measured and scanned the smaller combat craft, zooming in and out as the mechadendrite stalk rose and dipped to get as many angles as possible.

[Aaron]

2100-2110 Day One:

Arl settles into his quarters, having left the rest of the party to it's own devices until the jump to the Immaterium. He was no stranger to ships, having spent a great deal of time in transit to and from various places in service to the Inquisition. He had removed his poncho and deposited it, along with the rest of his kit in the rooms strongbox and lockers, though he kept his hand cannon in it's chest rig and his engraved knife in his boot.

He engaged his door lock and settled onto the rooms naval style rack, remaining in his jet black uniform. He reached up and unfastened his gas mask, breathing in the somewhat stale air that was standard aboard ship.

"Home." He mutters to himself as he takes in the familiar sounds and smells of the ship.

A few minutes later the one minute klaxon sounds over the ships vox units and speakers and the familiar bass thruming of the Warp engines charging begins to displace the background noise of the hull ticking and groaning and the trickling of water through pipes.

The final klaxon sounds and there is a sensation of being turned inside out and an immense pressure on his skull, he grips the safety bar on the rack as it intensifies. Within moments the sensations subside and the all clear alarm sounds.

[Lighthawk]

2100-2110 Day One:

Upon stowing her gear, Haxta gave herself a tour of the ship, examining the vessel. She was pleased to find everything in good working order, and somewhat impressed in how well the craft's true nature had been disguised. Anything less than a close inspection would have lead one to believe the ship barely functional.

As the Warp alarms sounded, Haxta positioned herself in an open doorway for support, waiting out the familiar unpleasant sensation of the jump.

[Mikey]

2110 - 2115, Day One

Having stowed his meager kit, Trask lay on his cot and stared reflectively at the low ceiling. Even though the time was not yet ripe to act, the information he had gotten from Ferringo by way of Arl - along with some of his new learning - had given him a clarity of purpose and focus he hadn't felt in some time. Klaxons sounded, indicating the eminent jump to warp space, and Milo soon after felt the familiar lurch and comforting feeling of the ship's Gellar field encasing his psyche. He frowned when he thought of Gellar fields, then rose up and used the wall-mounted intercom to vox a rating for a cup of recaf. Then he sent one on the team's frequency. "Sister Phebia, Tech-Priestess Haxta, Mr. Karibi - might I have a word?"

[Tyyr]

1905 - 2115

Phebia took her leave of the others and found her way to her cabin. Laying out the small prayer rug she had learned to carry with her after their last mission she said her evening prayers. She made supplication before the Emperor for the ship, their mission, and after a moment's consideration their resident wytch. It would be best for all involved if the Emperor extended his grace to the mutant a while longer and didn't force them to kill him in the middle of the mission. After an hour on her knees Phebia opened her books from the abbey. She had been promoted to militant but her cannoness still demanded that she continue to learn.

When the alarm chime sounded Phebia laid down on her bed and closed her eyes. Her fingers wadded up the sheets as a wave of nausea washed over her. She just barely managed to keep her latest meal down and wondered if she'd ever get used to it. When Trask called she answered. "Yes, shall we meet or just vox?"

[Sionnach Glic]

2115

Karibi had just finished stowing his kit when the psyker's vox message came through.

"Of course." He replied back.

[Lighthawk]

2115

"If you wish," Haxta sent in reply to Trask's vox. "What is it you want to discuss?"

[Mikey]

2116

"I had thought in person, but whatever is most convenient, sister," Trask answered and the group frequency. "I simply wanted to collaborate on a a mechanism for Phebia to execute her plan. We must allow her and Naja to find us, without any trace of it appearing as though we allowed her to find us."

[Tyyr]

2116

"The mess hall then?" Phebia asked.

[Mikey]

2116

"The mess hall then?" Phebia asked.

"Five minutes, if that suits everyone?"

[Tyyr]

2116-2121

"Acknowledged," Phebia answered. She strapped her pistol back on and made her way through the ship's bowel's to the executive mess hall. When she arrived she poured herself a cup of recaf and waited.

[Lighthawk]

"Five minutes, if that suits everyone?"

"Very well, I shall be there," Haxta responded. She closed and latched the access panel she had been poking around in, and made her way for the mess. Entering the room, she nodded to Phebia and sat across from the battle sister. As she waited, her mechadendrites twitched, first one, then the other, back and forth. Haxta hardly seemed aware of it, like a person calmly tapping a finger on a table as they waited.

[Sionnach Glic]

2116 - 2126

"That'll do nicely." Karibi replied, flicking off the vox and wandering down to the mess hall. Both Phebia and Haxta had arrived before him, though Milo still hadn't made it down yet. With a brief nod of greeting to Phebia, the Adept retrieve a cup of recaf an sat own to wait.