A Traitor's Tale - An Imperial Navy Renegade Quest

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A Traitor's Tale - An Imperial Navy Renegade Quest
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In the chaos of the Anthaladon sector, there's all sorts of glory to be had and fortunes to be made. Especially for a rogue Imperial Navy officer with a couple ships, delusions of grandeur and a bone to pick with the galaxy.
Chapter 1 - Origins
A Traitor's Tale

Chapter 1 - Of K'Von and the Crusade


As with much of the Imperium, the Anthaladon sector is a region in turmoil. Situated on the edge of the warp anomaly known as "The Pit'', and stuck between an expanding Tau Empire, an Ork WAAAGH!!! and an Imperial Crusade and set ablaze by numerous uprising, rebellions and insurrections, it is most definitely not a nice place to be. But then, nowhere in the galaxy is right now. Despite its unsavoury nature, or rather because of it, the sector is exactly the place to be for any would-be legend to make their mark on the annals of history. The Anthaladon Crusade will forge many heroes, enshrine many legends and make countless martyrs. A loyal servant of the Imperium could find themselves thrust into glory and showered with the fruits of duty.

Corburast K'Von is not one of those loyal souls. Not anymore. Quite the contrary in fact. Born into the ruling family of a minor hive world, K'Von has always been the ambitious sort, and had his eyes set on the throne from the moment he could understand what it was. But when you have 3 brothers and 2 sisters ahead of you in the succession, even the most ambitious of men must realise that some things truly are out of reach. So when the opportunity arose to join the Imperial Navy as a captain of the Endeavour-class light cruiser Valorous using his father's connections, he took it without hesitation. Winning himself no small glory during the opening action of the Anthaladon, he was eventually elevated to the rank of Commodore, granted command over a small battlegroup. And it was at that rank he would stay for the next 30 years, as the crusade became bogged down by infighting, politics, and the ever increasing demands of other fronts. This stagnation would prove to be the cause but not the catalyst of his eventual treason. The catalyst was rather the battle of Aption, where the young (by Imperial Navy standards) Commodore would realise exactly how much him and his men were worth to the Imperium. How much?

Absolutely nothing.

In the gruelling battle, 2 of his ships would be lost with all hands, and the Commodore himself would be brought to the verge of death by a direct torpedo hit to the bridge of the Valorous. Repeated requests for reinforcements and support would be denied. It would only be by the chance intervention of an Adeptus Mechanicus Expeditionary Fleet that arrived in the system by accident, having been thrown off-course by a warp storm, that would prevent the complete destruction of the battlegroup. After a long recovery period, he would finally discover the truth of why he had been abandoned to die. Not because of any fault of his own. Not even because of any petty rivalry or feud between him and his peers. Those he would have been able to understand, even if he wouldn't be able to forgive. Rather it was the simple fact that his would-be reinforcements were occupied in the neighbouring system, in a battle that would prove far more prestigious than saving his life would have been. The ambitious Commodore would admit that there was a touch of humour to it. Left to die, because it simply wouldn't have been prestigious enough to save him. The final straw came soon after, when his taskforce was reassigned immediately upon recovery, without so much as a word of praise or thanks. Should he have known better than to expect any? Probably. But K'Von has always been a prideful man, and quite understandably considers his life to be worth at least a bit of gratitude. And so the seeds were sown, and the stage set for his treachery. Reaching out to the other captains and like-minded individuals in his battlegroup, he planned and he plotted and eventually he was ready to strike. Spitting on their oaths to the Imperial Navy, he and two of his fellow captains crossed over into treason. However, not everybody shared their enthusiasm. The captain of the escort frigate Zia would not follow his former comrades into damnation, and attempted to resist. After a brief but nonetheless pitched battle, K'Von emerged victorious. Now his renegade battlegroup floats in the void of deep space, awaiting their next moves. He is hungry. Hungry for battle. Hungry for glory.

But first things first. Before anyone can go anywhere, he needs to assess the situation and checkup on his ships.

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Well there you have the setup to this quest. Next update will focus more on the characters themselves and will actually get going with the story.
At the end of each chapter after this one I'll be putting a brief rundown of the assets K'Von has available.

Now for the vote on the specifics of the situation.

Select two boons (good stuff), and one curse (bad stuff). I'll generally use this system for events where actions can have significant drawbacks.


[ ] [BOON] Under the Radar

K'Von's treason hasn't yet been noticed by the wider Imperium, allowing his small fleet to evade notice and possibly prevent any significant retribution for some time.

[ ] [BOON] Renegade Astartes

Two squads of the Dune Snakes renegade Astartes chapter assisted K'Von with his desertion. They could prove to be a powerful tool if used well, but remember that they are angels and you are but a mortal man. You would do well not to anger them.

[ ] [BOON] Allied Militarum Force

Three regiments of the Astra Militarum that were being transported have, for the most part, thrown their lot in with the Commodore. This grants a solid ground force to complement the fleet, but the regiments' commanders will need to be kept loyal. (If this boon is not picked, the regiments' loyalties will be split and resources will have to be allocated to fully aligning them)

[ ] [BOON] Loyal Command crew

The majority of the command crew of the fleet has sided with their commanding officer, granting a strong command structure. However, the various personalities will need to be kept loyal if he is to retain their skills. (If this boon is not selected, then the command crew will be split and some will require replacements).

[ ] [BOON] Minimal damage

The battle against the *Zia* was short and little damage was inflicted, mostly being patched up with field repairs. (If this is not chosen then the fleet will take longer to get back to full operational capability and may require proper shipyard facilities)


[ ] [CURSE] Loud and Clear

News of K'Von's betrayal has spread far and wide across the sector, and already several would-be heroes have sworn to bring his head to the Warmaster. However, his newfound fame may prove useful in attracting fellow renegades and opportunists to his banner.

[ ] [CURSE] Militarum resistance

Three regiments of the Astra Militarum that were being transported have, for the most part, chosen not to follow the Commodore into damnation and are actively carrying out resistance actions in the lower decks, making a right nuisance of themselves.

[ ] [CURSE] Disloyal Command Crew

The majority of the command crew of the fleet has sided with their oaths, choosing not to betray the Navy. This is a significant organisational blow but does give the opportunity to put loyal individuals and yesmen in these command positions.

[ ] [CURSE] Major damage

The battle with the Zia was much more brutal than it had any right to be, and significant damage was inflicted on the Valorous. This will require a proper dockyard to repair and will give a significant combat malus until it can be properly repaired.
 
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Chapter 2 - A Choice of Direction
"Well first things first, what's the situation looking like?"

K'Von looks around the table at the assembled figures. Arranged are the various individuals that make up the command crew of the Valorous, seated within his personal offices. As with most of his possessions, the rooms are overly large and overly ostentatious. The majority of key crew were at least sympathetic to his little rebellion, with the notable exception of the gunnery chief who opted to resist the change of allegiance and was subsequently dealt with.

"The Zia managed to get a distress signal out before we could disable its communications," begins Chief Astropath Tyles. "By now the Crusade force knows of our treachery and no doubt has already dispatched a force to bring our heads to the Warmaster."

"Our treachery?" spits Colonel Zelthe, "it was the Crusade and the Warmaster that betrayed us first when they threw our regiments through the grinder in Dwense." The other two Militarum colonels grumble in agreement.

"We can argue the specifics at a later date, right now we need to move."
This from Captain Auirme, a short, fidgety woman who is clearly uncomfortable being away from the bridge of the Valorous for so long. "They know what we've done and they know we're here. If we stay here any longer they'll send someone for our heads and they'll take them. We simply aren't ready for a fight."

"So what do you suggest?" questions K'Von.

"Galactic North. There's plenty of renegade groups and rebel planets there that the crusade hasn't reached yet. We could find allies, repair and refit and plan our next move from somewhere safe."

The three colonels erupt into protestations. "Cowardice! Why should we flee? The fact of the matter is, we aren't big enough of a problem for them to send overwhelming force. Throne, even if they bother to send anyone it won't be anything we can't handle. We need to show strength. We need to stay here for now."


K'Von finds himself agreeing. Dozens, hundred even, of Imperial officers defect and rebel every day. The crusade is too busy to assign any significant force to hunting him down because, as much as he hates to admit it, he really isn't important enough. Not yet anyway. Not to mention that crushing a punitive force sent after them, even if it's a small one, would be good for reputation and may be enough to attract others to his cause.


"East. We should go towards the galactic east."

Surprised glances flit around the table towards the previously silent speaker: the Master of Arms, Octarian Thume. As master of arms, Thume holds significant power in the ship with his armsmen being the only crew members able to bear arms on a regular basis.

"We need to go towards the Pit."

The Pit: the warp rift situated in the galactic east of the sector and the source of most of the sector's woes, periodically spewing forth warpspawn-infested space hulks, servants of the dark gods, and much more and much worse besides.

"Only there will we finally be free of the Imperium and its false god"

The mention of the God Emperor ushers a silence into the conversation. Even after their treachery, many aboard the ship still hold to their faith in the God Emperor, even if they do not have faith in his Imperium.

Perhaps sensing the tension in the room about to erupt, or maybe just bored of hearing voices other than his own, K'Von decides to propose a path of his own.

"How about we go west, towards the crusade?" Seeing the confused stares from around the table, he quickly continues. "Its the last place they'll think to look. Nobody in their right mind would expect us to go back towards the greatest concentration of Imperial ships this side of the galaxy has ever seen. We'd be undetected. Not to mention all the juicy backline shipping we could get our hands on. And if the heat gets too hot? Then we just slip out."

"The risks are much greater than you imply," remarks Tech-Priest Majoris Taha, "the Warmaster will not allow any disruption to her supply lines such as what you suggest. She would not risk critical shipments being cut off. She is an admirably logical woman, for a baseline human, and would sacrifice many ships before giving up on her supplies."

"And I suppose that by objecting, you have a better idea?"

"I do," the Tech-Priest retorts, their augmetic eyes gleaming, "I would concur with the Master of Arms, albeit for different reasons to his. Near the border of the Pit a warp storm recently subsided, revealing a fairly large region of space that has been untouched for several millennia. It is therefore within acceptable error margins to assume that there will be valuable relics and technology within that region, much of which may be directly beneficial or worth significant value on the black market."

K'Von perks up at the mention of money. He shifts in his chair, pondering the options laid out in front of him.

"I've decided. We're going…"

(Pick one)

[ ] [Movement] "... North."

This will bring the fleet into renegade space, where they will encounter rebels, renegades and pirates. This will take several weeks.

[ ] [Movement] "... West."

This will bring the fleet into crusade space, where they will encounter Imperial forces. This will take several weeks.

[ ] [Movement] "... East."

This will bring the fleet into the Gate Worlds region bordering the Pit, where they will encounter Imperial and Chaos forces. Tau forces may eventually be encountered if the fleet continues in this direction. This will take several weeks.

[ ] [Movement] "... nowhere."

The fleet will remain where it is, where it will be easily located by any forces wishing to find it. It may be several weeks before they encounter anyone.


During the several weeks that it will be before arrival, the fleet will need to keep busy. (Pick two)

[ ] [Fleet] Field Repairs

Using what resources are available, patch up whatever damage that can be repaired without a large scale dockyard or repair facility. This will take several weeks.

[ ] [Fleet] Quash Dissent

Comb through the fleet to find and eliminate any resistance or troublesome individuals that may still remain loyal to the Imperium. This will take several weeks.

[ ] [Fleet] Build Network

Start setting up and developing a system of informants and spies through the fleet to ensure that nothing can occur without the Commodore having heard of it beforehand. This will take several weeks.

[ ] [Fleet] Train Crew

Begin training menials and other low level workers in the more complicated operation aboard the ships to develop a larger skilled crew workforce. This will take several weeks and will reduce the effectiveness of the already trained crew during this period.

[ ] [Fleet] Train Soldiers

Using the Militarum troops aboard the Valorous, begin training menials and other low level workers in basic combat to develop a larger reserve force of armsmen. This will take several weeks and will reduce the effectiveness of the already trained armsmen and guardsmen during this period.

[ ] [Fleet] Set Ambush

Set up an ambush for any foes foolish enough to come after you. This will take several weeks. (Can only be chosen if "...nowhere" was selected in the previous selection.)
 
Chapter 3 - Just Business
With a flash, the Valorous crashes out of the warp and into realspace at the edge of the system. Across the ship, shutters are lowered, the gellar field powers down and the realspace engines flare to life.

"Status report?"

"All clear commodore, no damage taken during the translation from the warp."

Several weeks have passed since they began their journey, and finally their destination has been reached: Magdedon Nine, traitor world and main port of call for renegades and pirates in the region. The journey was easier than expected; the warp is unusually calm, and fears that the God-Emperor would cast their ship adrift for their sins have proven themselves to be unfounded. The purpose of the visit is primarily to rearm and repair their ships but there is also the ever-present need for information and resources.

"Signal the Rapier and the Gloria, have them wait in the asteroid belt and run silent. I don't want our true strength being revealed sooner than it needs to be. Take us into high orbit and signal the defence fleet. We don't want them firing on us or mistaking us for loyalists. Oh, and also request an audience with the governor. We have a lot to discuss."

"Aye, commodore."

After a brief exchange with the admiral of the defence fleet, the Valorous settles in high orbit, powering down some of the secondary functions to save on power while maintaining readiness, just in case they outstay their welcome. Renegades are not known for respecting the various uneasy truces between groups.

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[Description part]

The landing craft slices through the dense clouds of the gas giant's upper atmosphere, the pale green fog billowing around the wings and glowing in the exhaust. Looming ahead of them, silhouetted by the rising sun, is the capital city: Sanctis. As with all the cities on Magdedon, Sanctis sits comfortably in the atmosphere, kept aloft by arcane technology from before the dark ages, technology nobody alive today can even comprehend, let alone understand.


The Valkyrie, on loan from one of the regiments, touches down on a launch pad reserved for incoming dignitaries and is quickly met by an honour guard from the governor. The lead guard, dressed in the purple livery the planet's soldiers are known for motions for the group to half at the bottom of the ramp.

"Welcome to Sanctis, do you have any Tech-Priests aboard?"

"What?"

"Tech-Priests. Do you have any aboard? None of the cult mechanicus may set foot on this world, by the ancient decree."

"Uh no. No Tech-Priests here."

"Very well, please follow me."


They are escorted to the throne room, with a large, domed ceiling and surprisingly plain walls. Uncharacteristically plain in fact, especially for a rogue governor of such a rich world. As for the governor himself, it definitely fits the caricature of the corrupt governor. A bloated, layered creature more akin to an obese ogryn than any standard human, its lower half concealed by flowing robes with enough fabric to clothe an entire hab-block. Upon seeing the group, it smiles a wide and unsettling grin, wider than one would think possible. If K'Von is horrified, one would not think it from his face. For a man like him, this is nothing. What is horrifying, is the voice that emerges from that gaping maw. Oily, too nasal and deep for human vocal cords and with a quality that can only be described as 'indulgent'. This does give K'Von pause, but only for a moment.

"Greetings Commodore, we have been long wondering where you would go after hearing of your… self-liberation…"

"You know of me already? Grand. That'll make things much easier. Then I'm sure you also know why I am here?" The Commodore opens with the typical bluster and arrogant push that's worked so well for him so far.


"Yes, we have heard of you. The rumours hold true, you are definitely arrogant and presumptuous to walk in here and talk the way you do. Most men would not dare."

"I think you will find that I am not like most men."

"Indeed, speak your business. What is it you want?"

"A request? You misunderstand. It is not what I want that should interest you, rather it is what I can offer you. I've seen your fleet, it is mighty indeed but it is stretched thin. You do not have enough ships to defend your holdings and gather off-world resources simultaneously. That is where I come in. I have three ships under my command, more than capable of mounting expeditions in your name. I have the ships, and I am certain you have the information."

"Information?

"Yes, information. No doubt you have informants on the inside, likely rather high up in the crusade hierarchy. How else would this world be overlooked by the crusade? You are not small or unimportant enough to have evaded detection. No, the only explanation is that there are rats in the crusade. And you are pulling all the right strings."

"You are most astute, Commodore. Let us assume for a moment that what you say is correct, and we do have knowledge of supply routes and schedules. What do we gain from giving you said information?"

"I'm a generous man who knows how to reward his friends. Forty percent of the cut."

Loud, pearly laughter reverberates around the hall, in direct contrast to the creature's appearance, the governor's layers shaking like an earthquake.

"Forty percent? How generous of you," it continues laughing mockingly. "How gracious of you to offer us such a generous share of resources you would not even possess without our information."

"Don't try to bluff your way out of this," he points directly at the thing looking down to him, "this is the best deal you'll be getting from anyone. If you could act on this information alone you wouldn't even be having this conversation with me. This is a mutual deal."

He pauses for moment of loaded silence before he continues.

"But I am not a stubborn man. I'm willing to take the forty percent cut for myself and leave you the rest under only two conditions. The first is simple: any ships or crews captured will be my property and my business."

"And the second condition?"

"This information will be exclusive to me and me alone. I'm not interested in fighting others for my prize."

"Very well… but we have a request of our own. You must leave behind one of your ships. I am no fool. I know you have hidden strength, ships beyond the one docked in orbit. One must be left here on Magdedon to ensure that you do not take this information and flee. Collateral, if you will. I will let you decide which one."

"You think I would do such a thing? Have a little faith, governor."

"We will not budge on this issue. Whichever ship you choose will be resupplied and repaired free of charge, and the crew offered every available luxury."

"Well then that's a demand, not a request is it not? Doesn't sound like I have much of a choice. Very well governor."

[ ] "The Valorous will remain here. Let the escorts have their fun."

[ ] "One of the escorts will remain behind, we need as much firepower as possible."

"Excellent. Then it is a deal. We will transmit the location and timing for the first target to your ship. A word of warning Commodore, we do not tolerate failure here. Do not return empty-handed."

"Have a little faith governor, I've never failed because of my own faults before and I don't intend to start now."

"Faith. You speak of that a lot. But I wonder, what faith do you hold? Do you praise the Burned God? Speak freely, there is no persecution on religious grounds here."

"The Burned God?"

"Yes, the Burned God. The Entombed One. The God-Emperor, may his eternal gaze watch over us."

"Ah. That God."

[ ] "I do. I serve the Master of Mankind in my own way, even if I have diverged from his Imperium."

[ ] "I find myself leaning towards the teachings of the Mechanicus, there is some truth in their words."

[ ] "The Emperor? He is a god but he is not mine. There are…. other gods. Gods the Imperium doesn't wish us to know of, lest we see the truth."

[ ] "There are no gods, only warp anomalies given some semblance of sentience."


"I will take my leave now. I have a hunt to attend to."

With that, he turns and leaves.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

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Well there's the next chapter. Not my best work and definitely not on time but its better than nothing I guess, I'm not a fan of writing dialogue so apologies if it came across a bit wooden.
 
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Chapter 4 - First Blood
At the edge of the system, the Valorous lies in wait. A patient hunter, concealed in the asteroid belt just short of the jump point with its reactors powered down and running silent.

"I don't like this, sir. We've been here too long, maybe the information was inaccurate or maybe the convoy has already passed through."

"No Captain, the information was perfect. There's no reason the governor would lie about that, he would gain nothing. The convoy may have already passed through but I doubt it."

"I also still think we take an unnecessary risk by waiting in its destination system. If we aren't fast enough the system fleet will tear us apart."

"Then we must simply be fast enough. Waiting here, just at the edge of their destination is the only way we can be sure of a catch with our limited fleet. This is the one place they have no ability to avoid, because it is where they are going. Similarly, this is the last place they would expect trouble, for all the reasons you are hesitant for us to stay. And so, a less careful captain may power down some of his weapons to spare his reactor 'unneeded' strain. And that will be his undoing."

"And if the captain is a careful one?"

"Nothing changes. We'll win anyway."

"Commodore," a cry from across the bridge calls out, "we have them! Several ships reverting to realspace exactly as predicted!"

"Numbers and classifications?"

"Five cargo haulers, a single light cruiser. Dauntless-class, the Fang of Retribution. They're running on low power, just as predicted."

"See Captain? This won't be a problem at all. Less guarded than I expected, but one never complains about their good fortune. Have the Rapier prepare torpedo tubes, targets along the Light Cruiser's trajectory. Divert power to engines and shields, all ahead full."

"Aye Commodore."

"Commodore?" Auirme begins to inquire hesitantly, "are you sure about this? At this present course, we'll ram them."

"No we won't, because before we do you'll angle the ship downwards seventy degrees. We'll go right under them."

"But they will just rotate their ship to… oh!"

"You get it now? If they rotate to bring their guns to bear on us, they'll expose their blind spot to the Rapier. They can't stop both of us."

"Commodore, they've spotted us and are powering weapons and locking on."

"Stick to the plan, the shields will hold."

The ship slices through space, with an Imperial Cruiser's signature lack of grace or elegance. The loyalist firepower, while more than adequate against your average pirates, simply splashes off the shields of a similar sized ship, causing ripples and bursts of colour to flash out across the shields. A battle such as this could last for hours with no real effects, the two are simply too evenly matched. K'Von however, has a plan. At his command, the Valorous dives sharply, just short of ramming the loyalist craft. At the same time, with the kind of coordination that comes from years of experience, the Rapier swings around to fire a volley of shells into the aft of the cruiser and to send a lance beam spearing into the engines of one of the transports. The cruiser, caught between the hammer and the anvil, flounders. Gripped by panic, its captain hesitates before making a decision of direction. That indecisiveness proves to be his undoing, as the volley of torpedoes fired earlier from the Rapier slams into the cruiser, bypassing the void shields and burning holes into the hull. The renegade fleet pours their firepower into the cruiser, and the void shields, already stretched to the limit by the internal damage and external pressure, collapse. With the catastrophic yet dazzling beautiful flaring that accompanies a void shield collapse, the cruiser's hull is laid bare. Thirty minutes later, the battle is over. The cruiser drifts, broken and disabled in space, a once proud vessel of the Imperial Navy laid low. On the bridge of the Valorous, the mood is jubilant. A victory at last, and one bought without much blood to boot. The air is still thick with tension; every crew member knows that the defense fleet will be here soon and, if they are caught in the open, there will be no way the Valorous makes it out in one piece.

"Commodore, the Rapier reports good hunting, four of the five transports have been boarded and captured. The fifth managed to destroy itself before we could seize control. Damage is minimal, but that maneuver we pulled off reportedly put some strain on the engines, it may need some proper repairs once we return. The convoy was transporting..."

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[ ] [Cargo] "... raw materials, on its way to a refinery world."

[ ] [Cargo] "... weapons and vehicles, likely for supplying an armoured Militarum regiment."

[ ] [Cargo] "... ship components, specifically for power generators and void shields."

[ ] [Cargo] "... low security prisoners for incarceration on one of the penal labour worlds."

[ ] [Cargo] "... Astartes-pattern power armour and equipment. Nothing we can use ourselves, but it could be worth something."

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"Very good Captain, very good. We've done well today. Prepare the ship to leave."


"Leave? But what of the enemy cruiser? It's disabled but it isn't destroyed, are we simply to leave it here?"


"Well of course. We need to leave behind some sort of mark, to let the Imperium know who it is that has bested them here and who it is who shall best them again in the future. This will be the first of many marks I shall burn into this sector, until the whole Segmentum knows my name. We can't do that if we destroy all the witnesses. Unless you, or anyone for that matter, have a better idea?"

"Well, we could board it. Another light cruiser would be a great addition to our force. We may not be able to fully crew it immediately, but we won't be getting many chances as good as this to expand our arsenal. Also, we could-"
"-Yes we must board that ship, and slaughter the lapdogs aboard!" interrupts Thume, "that craft must be taken and dedicated to the dark gods, so that they may reward us with their gaze."

"I do not care for your gods, Thume, and i have no interest in your rituals."

"Ah but they definitely have an interest in you, Commodore. I have seen it, you have attracted but the tiniest portion of their gaze, but it is enough that anyone blessed with sight may see. We all serve their designs, even if we cannot yet see where we fit in."

K'Von feels his skin crawl slightly, Auirme unconsciously fingers the aquila hung around her neck before speaking softly, "sir, not everyone aboard that ship needs to be an enemy. I'm sure that many of them could even be convinced to support our cause and-"

"Shut up, both of you," he waves his hands at them in a vague manner, "I'm thinking."

A brief moment of silence, before he clicks his fingers. "That's it, we're..."
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[ ] [Action] "... leaving."

This option will anger both Auirme and Thume, but may well allow K'Von's fame to grow. Leaving the ship's crew alive may backfire however.

[ ] [Action] "... boarding it. We could use another ship."

This option will anger Thume, but will please Auirme and add a new ship to the fleet. It will be heavily damaged, especially the power generators, and severely lacking in crew.

[ ] [Action] "... boarding it. I will humour your 'gods' Thume. For your sake, I hope your beliefs turn out to be grounded."

This option will anger Auirme, but will please Thume and cause the enemy ship and crew to be sacrificed to the Chaos Gods.

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Intelligence Report: Chaos Cults
Commodore, our network of informants and spies throughout the fleet has picked up on an unsettling phenomenon. Chaos cults have begun springing up, alongside shrines and other impromptu places of worship. Sacrifices have been reported to take place, but so far all victims have been willing. These cults have not broken the ship's peace, nor have they moved against your authority yet. What must be done?

[ ] [Intel] Fight fire with fire. Start setting up more shrines and preachers for the Imperial Cult, our sanitised version of course, and try to prevent more crew members from falling to this heresy.

[ ] [Intel] Infiltrate them with our own agents, find out as much information as we can before making any moves.

[ ] [Intel] Crack down on them. Extreme measures must sometimes be taken to purge the rot. Ban these cults and raid their meeting places.

[ ] [Intel] Let them be. They are not bothering anyone, merely exercising their newfound religious freedoms. Focus on finding actual traitors.

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When voting, pick one [cargo], one [action] and one [Intel].

Well here's our first taste of actual combat. It isn't as much or good as I had hoped to write but I've been rather sick recently and just wanted to move the story along. Little has changed since the last threadmark in terms of the OOB and Characters, so I won't bother posting those again.
 
Chapter 5
"I'm sure you will be overjoyed to hear news of your ship, Captain," begins K'Von through a mouthful of food. "Much of the damage dealt to it by my most remarkable tactics in the battle has been repaired, thanks in no small part to the components you were escorting. Fitting, is it not?"


Across the table, former captain Vraine glowers at the Commodore, his hatred completely unconcealed. A captain separated from his ship and his crew, a prisoner in a gilded cage.


"Nothing to say? A shame, your record has you slated as a great speaker on your homeworld. But I suppose crushing humiliation changes a man. Will you not even touch the food set before you? These are luxuries; not even your average Admiral would eat this well. All thanks to our friends in… shall we say low places? This renegade business is quite profitable, you should look into it yourself. These past few weeks have been very bountiful, and once we get your ship back up and running again, it'll only get better."


The next few minutes pass in silence, with the occasional sound of cutlery as K'Von digs in, in stark contrast to his motionless counterpart opposite him.



"A few of your key crew took flight the other day."


This gets a reaction from the disgraced captain, his eyes perking up and hungry to know more.


"Oh don't look at me like that, they won't get far. The lower decks are not friendly to escaped prisoners, especially not those of the kind of religious disposition your escaped Head Preacher possesses. The cults will have a field day if they get their hands on him, so you'd better hope that he does the smart thing and turns himself over to my men. Don't look at me so disgusted, these cults are simply an inevitable consequence of freeing ourselves from the Imperial leash. The crew has tasted freedom and so they wish to experience it to the fullest. I hardly blame them. They don't cause a nuisance and my men have infiltrated them well enough that should they cause any trouble I can bring the hammer down on them with ease and precision. Besides, I may need these cults for some my next plans."


More silence.


"You really aren't the conversational type are you? You aren't even going to ask me what those plans are? Well it would be rude for me to simply tease you like this, so I may as well."


He places the cutlery flat on the table, before beginning to speak, each sentence punctuated by a series of wild hand gestures. Presumably intended to help with the explanation, these gestures only serve to further reduce clarity.


"You see, I am a visionary. Many men would be content to simply be a petty raider, harassing shipping to make a few quick credits. Not me. I have bigger ambitions. I will carve my name out in this sector, so that mentions of name shall be heard across the galaxy, in the halls of Holy Terra itself. I'm no simple warlord, no simple pirate. I don't simply covet riches, although I will hardly turn them down. What I seek is a bit more abstract, and a lot more enjoyable. I seek satisfaction, that feeling of seeing everyone who ever doubted you or stood in your way look upon your works and despair."


A small grin flashes across his face, "although I would hardly complain about attaining wealth and power along the way."




"You will burn. You know this." Vraine speaks his first words since his capture, delivered with all the venom one would expect from a man held captive by people he can only see as the worst kind of traitors.


"Oh! So you can speak!"



"Tell me traitor, do you know the ancient story of Icarus? A man so caught up in his own arrogance, that he sought to reach the gods. He forged a pair of wings, and flew higher and higher, thinking he would be able to touch the sky through the virtue of his own inventiveness and intellect. Do you know what happened to him? The gods cast him down for his arrogance, destroyed his wings mid-flight, and left him to fall back to earth, burning up in the atmosphere. You, you traitorous dog, are Icarus. You will burn for your arrogance."




"Interesting story, but that is all it is. A story of Old Terra. I've been told this before. That I would burn for my sins. Well, I'm still here. And I have burned before. I burned for your God, in the service of his Imperium. I nearly died, by all accounts I should have died. Do you know what it is like to feel true helplessness? To hear all your calls for aid rejected?"


He slowly unbuttons his jacket, opening it up to show his chest underneath. A patchwork painting of ridged scars, metal, grafted flesh and dead tissue stares out, the very unsubtle evidence of major reconstructive surgery.


"Look at me," he whispers, "look how your God rewarded me for my duty, for my sacrifice. LOOK AT ME! I was riddled with holes in that battle, I lay bleeding on the deck of my own bridge, surrounded by the bodies of the crew I cared about, abandoned by the Crusade I had given my life to! I should have died there. A part of me did die there. I survived, barely. Saved by chance, by luck. The Mechanicus, arriving in the system by mistake. They saved me, cut me open and replaced most of me with clockwork. I will burn? Maybe."


He stares blankly through one of the viewports into the black void of space for a moment. A mourning look flashes across his face briefly.

"There isn't much left of me to burn."


A pause, before the Commodore continues, his flashy demeanour returning.


"You made me lose my temper, that's impressive. I think I have lost my appetite along with it. Enjoy the meal, I have matters to attend to. The galaxy won't conquer itself."


Flashing a signature smile at his counterpart, he rises from his seat and saunters out, his cheerful demeanour betraying nothing of the anger he had displayed just previously. Left behind, Vraine remains seated, the banquet set in front of him still untouched.


-------------------



Subject: Status Report on Repairs and Fleet Maintenance


Author: Tech-Priest Majoris Taha


Observations: Fleet repairs are hindered by a lack of substantial docking facilities. Current facilities are independent of our control and subject to the orders and delays of third parties.


Recommendations: Secure control over docking facilities to allow greater flexibility and control over fleet repairs.



K'Von ponders over the report. It is true, having Fleet repairs be at the mercy of whatever whims the governor experiences is a liability. Sooner or later the fleet will need docking facilities of its own, but the question is where and how. Purchasing major facilities is out of the question, the fleet simply does not have those sort of resources to spare, and any facilities they can afford will simply be too small to be useful. There is always the option of seizing some by violence, but using force may not always be the wisest option. Although... there are several independent deep space stations in the region, many of which could be seized with relative ease and without the fear of reprisal that goes hand in hand with taking control of planetary ports. They may not be enough to facilitate the repairs for the entire fleet, but it would be a start and would reduce the fleet's reliance on the Governor's hospitality. Such actions would not be without drawbacks: the fleet would be unable to perform any raids during the duration of the operation. While it would be a necessary distraction, failing to provide the Governor with sufficient loot from raiding may cause them to rethink their patronage.


(Pick one [Fleet] option, if the vote is close between two options I will do my best to implement elements from both, if possible.)


[ ] [Fleet] "Prepare the fleet, we're taking one of those stations." Attempt to take a deep space station by force, utilising the fleet's firepower and boarding the station. This will cause damage to the station, but will be the simplest and fastest approach and will also allow the Commodore to place his own people in command of the station.


[ ] [Fleet] "Prepare the fleet, we're taking one of those stations." Attempt to take a deep space station by strongarming using the power of the fleet. This has the possibility to be quick and bloodless, although some concessions may need to be made and the Commodore will not be able to assign loyalists to most the command positions.



[ ] [Fleet] "Prepare the fleet, we're taking one of those stations." Attempt to take a deep space station by seeding operatives into the station and orchestrating some sort of coup to seize key areas and allow the fleet to take control. This has the potential to be relatively bloodless, but the risk of failure is high. If successful, the Commodore will be able to assign loyal officers into key positions. Regardless of success or failure, this will take time to set up.


[ ] [Fleet] "Prepare the fleet, we're taking one of those stations." Attempt to take a deep space station by inserting chaos cult preachers and building a network of cults inside the station. These cults will then rise up and seize the station. This will be neither quick nor bloodless, but the potential losses are relatively unimportant and the brunt of combat will be done by inhabitants of the station, rather than expending the fleet's precious manpower. However, concessions may need to be granted to the cults aboard the fleet and this risks empowering them with a success.


[ ] [Fleet] "We don't have any need for one of these stations just yet. Continue the raids as normal."


-------------



Repairs on the captured light cruiser are making good progress, but a significant issue has arisen. While the lower decks and menial crewmembers can be retained, most mid-level and higher level crew positions are vacant. The ship's original crew's loyalty cannot be trusted, not to mention that most of the original crew wouldn't support the cause anyway. Skilled crew will be needed if the ship is to be restored to full functionality. There are several potential options for crew. The first is to take skilled crewmembers from across the existing fleet and transferring them to the newest addition. While this does mean the rest of the fleet may suffer some small reduction in efficiency for some time, the new cruiser would almost immediately have a crew that is loyal and experienced. Alternatively, lesser and lower ranked crewmembers that show promise could be up-skilled and trained to fulfill key roles on the new cruiser. This would take much longer and the new crew will still be inexperienced, but it prevents the rest of the fleet from losing out on important crewmembers. Regardless of which option is chosen, the highest command crew will need to be uplifted from existing experienced command crew to form the core of the new crew.


(Pick one [Crew] option)



[ ] [Crew] Transfer crew from amongst the fleet


[ ] [Crew] Train promising lower crewmembers to fulfill key positions


----------------------------




Lower Deck Chaos

The escaped loyalist preacher has so far been able to evade all attempts to locate him. No informants seem to have caught any word or whisper of his location, but the evidence of his survival is very much clear. Impromptu shrines to the Emperor, sermons delivered in hushed words on dimly-lit decks of the Valorous, the sign of the aquila scrawled on the rent helms of armsmen gone missing in the hunt for the priest. He is not only suriviving, but he thrives, and as he thrives so too does the religion he spreads alongside him. A great many of the inhabitants of the lower decks still hold true to the creed of their forefathers. Such a large number of zealots, in such close proximity to countless chaos cults, is very obviously a recipe for disaster. Already skirmishes have been reported as warbands of the faithful raid Chaos shrines and killing any cultists they find, crucifying them in the shape of the aquila. At the best of times the lower decks are hardly kept in check, and having two rival religious forces rapidly gaining momentum threatens to remove the last vestiges of control in a conflict that could well doom the ship. Worryingly, the chaos cults have also begun to make moves, with their preachers and seers speaking of a "prophet", who will "guide them into the light of his vision". They have begun to organise even further, both striking back against the Emperor's worshippers as well as securing sections of the lower decks and spreading their doctrines. This prophet of theirs must be found, and maybe that will be enough to shed some light on the cults' plans. The informants within the cults have only been able to uncover a single peice of information: this prophet is linked closely to a member of the command crew. Master of Arms Thume has disappeared, along with many of his armsmen, presumably to assist his fellow cultists. If violence becomes necessary, it will be the Guard Regiments that carry it out, ill-suited to void combat as they may be. The conflict has been mostly low intensity, but may well spiral out of control if left to its own devices. I


(Pick ONE [Lower Decks] option)


[ ] [Lower Decks] "We have to pick a side, coordinate with the chaos cults to root out the worship of the false Emperor. And someone find me this prophet!"


[ ] [Lower Decks] "We have a great opportunity here to crush the chaos cults while they are weakened and distracted. Root them out, we can deal with the false Emperor's followers after."


[ ] [Lower Decks] "Let the fools fight, we can deal with the winner once they are weak."


[ ] [Lower Decks] "There are no gods, none worth worshipping anyway. Crush both sides decisively, there is no place for superstition on my ship."


-----------------------------


Well here's the next chapter, long overdue, and things are heating up. I've written this in about three seperate fever-fuelled writing sessions each one about a week or so apart so if it feels a bit disjointed in parts that's why. I probably should've gone over it with a bit more detailed of a look but I've sat working on it for over a month and I just want to get this going along.



Just for your information, even if decisions come back and bite you, I never include "trap" options. There will never be any option that'll just instantly end the quest, I don't think those are fun. So don't tear your hair out thinking about what option is the best and just choose whatever sounds funnest. :)


I realised upon finishing this that the new ship will need a name so I'll be accepting write-ins for name proposals. I'm a bit illiterate when it comes to using this site so I'm not completely sure how write-ins work but I'll also be accepting write-in plans for taking the station.
 
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