WARHAMMER 40,000: ROGUE TRADER: THE CITADEL OF SKULLS (Roleplaying on the Farthest Frontiers)

Four days to sail - four days in the screaming, howling realm of the Warp - and then you emerged, a mere month later on your increasingly inaccurate realtime clocks, in the orbit around Footfall. The vast port remained much as it had been when you had seen it last on your route from Purgatorio to Damaris. There was the vast macrostatue of the Emperor, glaring sternly out into the void that his subjects hoped to one day fully conquer, webbed around with support struts and inflatable tunnels that lead from hab-structure to hab-structure. The longshores were a bit larger, the xenosarium was a bit further off, and the ships had changed...but other than that, Footfall remained Footfall.

As your flotilla came in, with Junie still sullen and Zeph still withdrawn, you sprawled against Em's throne, shaking your head a bit forelornly.

"Not even a single blow," you say.

"Don't even tempt it," Em says, seriously, looking at you as he tucks his data slate under his arm and winces a bit. "Every boring passage means there's three hideous ones in our future. Especially since the next..." He purses his lips.

Thus far, the main goal between you, Em, Ryia and your master of whispers, Elisabet Von Strauss, had been to keep the rumors of your final destination locked away from the crew, lest they get it into their heads to being either panicking at the thought of heading a solar system being slowly consumed by her own collapsed star, to then face wits and battle with the Faceless Lord Karak Vall himself...or, what seemed far more likely after the Pearl and Damaris...

You winced, later, as you, Em, Ryia and the children stepped off the seal-lock and into the vast teeming space of the longshore. You could already see Colossi, Revengers and Tachyons, all quite clearly marked by their uniforms and their straw hats, cheerfully swaggering through the docks in one huge uniform mass. Each ship's crew might challenge the other during fleet games or sailing, but on shore, at a port like Footfall, they were all brimming and eagerness.

They'd conquered the Pealr.

They'd spat in a Waaagh's eyes.

They'd seen the furthest reaches of the Processional of the Damned and come back with lances that the God Emperor himself had crafted.

The fact that only a fraction of the nearly two hundred and forty odd souls had actually done or even been a part of any of those adventures mattered little at all. They served on the ships, they took the orders from the Rogue Traders who had done it, and they were oh so very ready to show it off. You winced, slightly, as the First moved out to keep a safe distance between your family and the riffraff, leaning close to mutter to Em. "There's going to be brawls aplenty tonight, aren't there?"

"Indeed..." Em says, frowning.

"Who cares?" Junie mutters, her voice sullen. She's dressed properly for a young Trader about the town, with a fine jacket in Scourge colors, a Colossus armband, a tricorn hat, and her own sword - you'd picked it for her, yourself, from the armory when she was fourteen, and she had practiced with it every day according to her letters. "They're crew, crew brawl..." She has her hands in her pockets, and is slouching, while Zeph is looking around themselves with clear awe - having never seen a port like this before.

Em opens his mouth to speak, but Ryia is the one who says: "Crew that won't follow your orders when they're easy will never do it when they're hard." She snorts. "Besides, the way they act reflects on us." She pokes Junie's chest, then flicks her finger against Junie's hat, brushing it back. "Now, you're here to learn. Pay attention."

Junie blushes, and look down at her feet.

Em nods. "Firstly, Von Struass," he says, turning to your tall, ominous, perpetually frowning Seneschal and Masters of Whispers. Technically, shouldn't she be a Mistress of Whispers? As you mull that over, Em continues: "How are our stores looking?"

"We're down sixty seven kilometers of plasma rigging across the three ships, more than five hundred thousand spars and conduits, netting for the Tachyon's torpedo bay..." She begins to list as you walk along the promenade, heading past outfitters and commercial enterprises that are definitely more suited for your crew than your own august persons. You glance at Junie, to make sure she's paying attention, and feel a tiny spark of pleasure as you see her frowning and nodding along with the list of materials, which ends with: "And five score head of grox for the Revenge, plus the chickoon restocks."

"Now," Em says, seriously as he turns to Junie and Zeph. "You and the First are going to be escorting Von Struass. Von Strauss will be checking your work and the prices you come to - and she will be a great deal harsher than we will on any mistakes. I want our ships prepped and ready to sail by the end of the week."

"We can do it," Junie says, sticking out her chin slightly, then turned to Von Strauss, practically glaring at her. "Come on, take us to the techwights."

"Are you sure this is safe?" Ryia mutters, very softly, to Em as the First start off around Zeph, Junie and Von Strauss. You wring your hands slightly - glad that Ryia had been the one to bring it up, even as Em snorts.

"I informed Mr. Moross upon leaving the warp that if anything were to happen to them, we would begin by shelling his palace," Em says, quietly. "It took is three days to sail to here, that's time enough to ensure everyone dangerous enough that the First can't deal with them are aware. Besides, Phi has them locked on with a teleportarium tracer and will port them back at the first hint of trouble...besides..." He sighs. "A week of druging around looking for fresh sail and livestock on Footfall is worse than grounding. And it'll teach them a valuable lesson."

"Yes, that they should kill more Rak'gol next time," Ryia says.

"What about the assassins?" you say, softly.

"They're...not going to be targeting Zeph," Em says.

"How can you be sure?" Ryia asks, her brow furrowing.

"They've shown no sign of your...unique talents. Until they do..." Em shrugs. "We know from our captured guest that the Order of the White Raven was founded to keep the Scourge Dynasty pure - they're extremely strict about what purity means, and will not move until something definite shows."

You snort. "Lovely...so... what are we going to buy?"

---
What's on the docket? Vote using a plan and in order of what you want to purchase, because each roll after the first imparts a penalty to the next. Also, each roll increases, slightly, the chances that throwing money around will attract Attention from Unsavory People. You can buy basically anything listed in the books at Footfall , in addition to the following Rare Treasures!

[ ] The Mirrorskin Tunic (6 AP to the chest and can be worn underneath other armor, in addition to armor worn above.) Modifier: -20
[ ] Finely Wrought Power-Knuckle (melee weapon that deals 1d10+4+SB Energy damage, Pen 2, with Power Field, Balanced, and Unstable - which means it does double damage on a nat 10 and half damage on a nat 1.) Modifier: -20
[ ] Geller Field with Saint Helgastram's Jawbone contained in the forward mount (1 power, 0 space, +10 to warp navigation rolls, roll twice on encounters and take the least bad while leading a warp route, provides +5 morale to any ship carrying it) Modifier: -30
[ ] Perilous Class Ionic Disruption Macrocannon Broadside array (5 power, 4 space, an exceptionally well made disruption broadside - doing no damage, but instead shorting out and shutting down ships. The dealer has no idea where it is from, but it will clearly be easy to operate and run. +3 morale to any ship carrying it.) | Modifier: -20
[ ] A Gutted Tempest (a single Tempest class strike frigate, stripped of her secondary components including weapons) | Modifier: -40
[ ] Anything Else You Want To Buy