Suffer Not ≡][≡ 40k Inquisition Quest

[open_sketch]

≡][≡ Inquisitor Joanyn Praxis ≡][≡
Imperial Inquisitor, Ordo Hereticus

Spoiler: Portrait

Spoiler: Attributes

Attributes
Physical Attributes
Strength - 1
Agility - 2
Melee - 1
Endurance: 4

Mental Attributes
Intelligence - 3
Tactics - 2
Nerve - 1
Fortitude: 6

Social Attributes
Charm - 4
Presence - 3
Contacts - 3
Resolve: 10

Faith Attributes
Belief - 2
Scripture - 0
Fire - 1
Conviction: 3

Spoiler: Values & Temptation

(3) - The Imperium should be an alliance of solidarity for the weak, not an alliance of strength for the strong.
(2) - People are more than problems, weaknesses, corruption vectors to eradicate. Their feelings and dreams matter.
(1) - A Shot Fired is a Shot Wasted

<1> - Victory makes me feel alive.

Spoiler: Stat Summary

Strength is raw physical conditioning. Lifting stuff, swimming, running a long time, punching hard. It's added to many melee attack damage as well.

Agility is swiftness, reaction speed, and immediate awareness. It's used for dodging things, jumping, ducking, outrunning folks, and other twitchy reactions.

Melee is the general skill of up close combat with knives, swords, fists (power or otherwise), chainsaws, whatever else.

Intelligence is raw intellectual power, knowledge, and drive to learn and study stuff. It is also used for military logistics.

Tactics is your knowledge of battle tactics, from the strategy of leading armies to simply knowing when it is safe to rush across a hallway in a gunfight.

Nerve is the stat both for shooting firearms and for keeping your cool. Nerve checks are common in combat to prevent from panicking or fight through pain.

Charm is the social stat used for flattery, smoothtalking, lying, seduction, verbal sparring, deflection, and navigating high culture.

Presence is the social stat used for reasoning, explaining, teaching, intimidating, impressing, or public address.

Contacts is rolled to know people you need to know, and to have a good reputation with them.

Belief is your actual faith in... whatever you have faith in. The Emperor, hopefully. It is used to resist temptation and corruption.

Scripture is your knowledge of the intellectual side of your religious faith. If you can quote from the holy books and theologians. It's intelligence for matters of faith.

Fire is your ability to project your faith out and convince others of it. Want to convert somebody or whip a crowd into a fanatical fury? This stat.

Spoiler: Skills

Weapon: Laspistol
Weapon: Hellpistol
Trade: Manager
Trade: Spy
Trade: Political Operator
Talent: Verbal Sparring
Talent: Seduction
Talent: Dishonesty
Talent: Intimidation
Talent: Exfiltration
Talent: Logistics
Talent: Propaganda
Talent: Indirect Persuasion
People: Dahlia
People: The Corrupted
People: High Imperial Politicians
Knowledge: Imperial Political Theory

Spoiler: Weapons & Armour

Social Loadout
1 Compact Laspistol, 1 Laspistol Reload, Flash-Safe Glasses, 6 Concealed monoknives, 1 Show Knife, 1 Belt Buckle Gun, 1 Plastex Bodyglove/Flakweave Suit, Displacer Field

Combat Options
+1 Hellpistol, +1 Transonic Machete

Compact Laspistol
Small Handgun
Attack Dice: 1/d10 -or- 2/d10-1
Aim Bonus: +1
Damage Bonus: +2
Armour Reduction: 0
Magazine Size: 4
Special
Laser: Does not cause bleeding.
Blinding: If operated without flash protection, witnessing the impact of a las-weapon will blind for 3 rounds.

Concealed Monoknife
Small Knife
Attack Dice : 1/d10
Damage Bonus : Agility + 1
Armour Penetration : 2
Parry Bonus : -1
Disarm Bonus : +0

Show Knife
Medium Knife
Attack Dice : 1/d10+1
Damage Bonus : Agility + 1
Armour Penetration : 0
Parry Bonus : +0
Disarm Bonus : +0

Buckle Gun
Tiny Handgun
Attack Dice: 2/d10-2
Aim Bonus: +0
Damage Bonus: -2
Armour Reduction: 0
Magazine Size: 1
Special
Hidden: Will always escape searches.

Plastex Bodyglove/Flakweave Suit
Clothing
Armour Value : 3
Coverage : All but Head and Eyes
Resistances : Impact, Blunt

Displacer Field
Energy Screen
When hit with an attack, roll 1d10.
1: Displaced into worse danger.
2: Displacer field fails. Take the hit.
3-6: Displaced hard. Take 1 Sore from bumping into something.
7-9: Displaced. Attack avoided.
10: Nothing personal, kid.

Hellpistol (Voss Pattern)
Medium Handgun/Carbine
Attack Dice: 1/d10 -or- 2/d10-1 (One-Handed)
Aim Bonus: +1
Damage Bonus: +3
Armour Reduction: 2
Magazine Size: 12
Special
Laser: Does not cause bleeding.
Blinding: If operated without flash protection, witnessing the impact of a las-weapon will blind for 3 rounds.
Convertible: When converted to Carbine mode, gain +1 to Attack and Aim Bonus.

Transonic Machete
Medium Knife
Attack Dice : 1/d10+2
Damage Bonus : Strength + 3
Armour Penetration : 1 + Half of enemy Armour (Round Down)
Parry Bonus : +0
Disarm Bonus : +3
Special
Sickening Vibrations: Enemies with 3 meters of an active blade count as being at -1 to all stats.

Spoiler: Companions

Sister Charitina
A member of the Order Famulous who found her faith again thanks to the Inquisitor. Praxis' closest confidant, dearest friend, and irritating ex-girlfriend.
Attributes of Note: Nerve 3, Contacts 4, Charm 3, Scripture 2, Fire 2
Skills of Note: Career - Order Famulous, Weapon - Bolt Carbine, People - Inquisitor Praxis
Equipment: Half-Plate Power Armour, Bolt Carbine, Burning Blade
Known Values: (3) The nobility is a blight on the Imperium, (2) I trust the Inquisitor's vision for the future, (1) Galaxy grim and dark, tiddy soft and warm.

Dahlia Hussian
A 17 year old unsanctioned psyker, rescued by Praxis from the witch's pyre she volunteered for at age 12. Loves the Emperor, and hates herself for being unworthy and twisted.
Attributes of Note: Power 1, Control 2, Sight 2, Faith 5, Strength -1, Nerve 0
Skills of Note: Talent - Self Discipline, Talent - Self-Hatred
Equipment: Web Derringer
Known Values: [3] I am here because I was given a chance. I should extend the same chance to others, [2] The Emperor is all things, [1] I can atone for my existence by aiding the Inquisitor

Marvel Ann Alemanga-Zero
A Magos of the biology wing of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Marvel Ann is an exuberant, odd, and enthusiastic cyborg lady who is an expert in medicine and bionics. She's Joanyn's current sweetheart, and she autotunes her voice.
Attributes of Note: Intelligence 4, Charm 3, Strength 4
Skills of Note: Career - Cyberdoc, Talent - Surgery, Talent - Singing
Known Values: [2] Adventure is to be seized with both hands (and as many mechandrites as possible)

Fraser Bookter
A positively ancient scribe who served Praxis' teacher, Bookter has seen all manner of things. Despite that, he keeps good humour.
Attributes of Note: Intelligence 4, Scripture 2, Contacts 2, Strength -2
Skills of Note: Career - Archivist, Knowledge - Imperial History
Known Values: ???

Korey Kilimnik
Once a Lightning fighter pilot for the Navy, until he was caught fucking an admiral's son. Kilimnik professionally doesn't care unless it has jet engines.
Attributes of Note: Nerve 5, Agility 3
Skills of Note: Career - Fighter Pilot, Talent - Piloting, Talent - Causing Trouble
Known Values: [2] By death or rejuvenation, age will never slow my reflexes

Penalties​

≡][≡​	Sore​	Strain​	Stress​	Stain​	≡][≡​
◹☠◸​	0/4​	0/6​	0/10​	0/3​	◹☠◸​
◹⛉◸​	3 XP​	XP3​	33 XP​	9 XP​	◹⛉◸​

CURRENT RP
6

RULES SUMMARY
ROLZ ROOM​

 

[Negentropy]

"It'̕s gen͏e̡s͡t̶eal͡èr̢s̴ ̸a̡l̷r̢i͞ght̡. ̸T͞h͘ey ar̵en'҉͝ ter̨r̨҉l̛y͠ s͢u̶bt̨l͞e ̀abo͞ųt it̨." a voice crackled through the vox in a wash of static, the first team making their landing. "Re̸s͟istance ̸is ̛liǵh̵t̕, t̷he͘y s͢e͘e̴m mo̶stl̶y ͘pre̸occ͜up͟i̢ed ̛w҉ fír̸e͞fi̶gh̶t̀iņg, a̵n̛d͘ it͠ ̷҉͡o͜ks̸ ͞l̸i͠ke ̡mos͡tly la̴t́er-g͡en͡e҉̡ti̢ǫn ͡hybr̛i͏ds. ̶Sc̷r͏a͡ţc̕h ̸on͞e ṕure̴b̛re̛e̸d, ͢t̨ho͏ug͢h͟.̷ ."

Click to shrink...

Ok, stupid question but just to double-check (assuming this isn't spoilers):

The text type used here represents vox static, and not some warp/hivemind/other eldritch horror influence on speech, correct?

Thanks for any clarification and sorry for probably just wasting your time due to my ignorance and absent mindfulness.

 

[open_sketch]

Ok, stupid question but just to double-check (assuming this isn't spoilers):

The text type used here represents vox static, and not some warp/hivemind/other eldritch horror influence on speech, correct?

Thanks for any clarification and sorry for probably just wasting your time due to my ignorance and absent mindfulness.

Click to shrink...

Yes. It's not a stupid question.

I've been trying to experiment with text formatting more than I usually do with this work, hence the boxes for messages, the zalgo text for disruption, Marvel Ann in general...

(The formatting I use for Marvel Ann isn't random, I have some loose rules and a sound I'm trying to imply. For those curious, Marvel Ann's is basically Bill Wurtz but in real time.)

 

[Aunty Shi Ping]

[x] Take volunteers. Explain the situation and call for them to come out, unarmed, one-at-a-time, to be restrained, have their blood sampled, and to be sedated once they are aboard a human-held vessel, or at your discretion should they obstruct your departure.
-[x] Do not inform them that you will destroy their vessel. Best not to warn the 'stealers, wield the threat as coercion, nor spoil the hopes of those who chose to remain upon a ship that was doomed regardless.
-[x] Attempt to Vox Dahlia for her general impression. Ideally don't explain the situation unless she already knows.
-[x] Start the tests as soon as possible.
-[x] If there is time, attempt to get a larger transport with containment facilities.
-[x] Keep them quarantined even if they pass the test.
-[x] If they are infected, consider them a lost cause, but ask Marvel Ann how valuable a contained specimen would be to the cause of combating the threat...

 

[ExNihilo]

For those curious, Marvel Ann's is basically Bill Wurtz but in real time.)

Click to shrink...

Oh god I hear it now.

Is loving JesusThe Omnissiah legal ~yet?~

 

[NemoMarx]

Oh god I hear it now.

Is loving JesusThe Omnissiah legal ~yet?~

Click to shrink...

Mars is a planet by the sun and it's beau-ty-ful ~

 

[open_sketch]

No don't do that if you're in the Adeptus Mechanicus you're not supposed to research new things.

And Marvel Ann said

How 'bout I do, A N Y W A Y ~

 

[Negentropy]

Yes. It's not a stupid question.

I've been trying to experiment with text formatting more than I usually do with this work, hence the boxes for messages, the zalgo text for disruption, Marvel Ann in general...

(The formatting I use for Marvel Ann isn't random, I have some loose rules and a sound I'm trying to imply. For those curious, Marvel Ann's is basically Bill Wurtz but in real time.)

Click to shrink...

Thanks a bunch, was just worried that I may be potentially asking for metaknowledge we are meant to figure out ourselves or just missing a previous informational post and wasting your time.

I really like the text variation - you use it effectively and it really adds to the subtext of your words.

It's just that I've seen that text format (so is it called Marvel Ann? Couldn't find it with a quick search but haven't looked that deep yet) commonly used to represent eldritch/Lovecraftian speech before.

 

[open_sketch]

Marvel Ann is the mechanicus who Talks like this all the T I M E

That kind of text is typically called Z̗̬̼̪͔a͎͓̜̣̦͗̂ͅl̘̣̖̗̠͉̋̓͊g͉ͥͦͪ̍ͧo͉̱͈̬̖̻̒̌ͦ̎ͭ ͉̥̗͕ͅt̸͐̿͋̒̐̒̚e̺̓̒ͧx̘͙̏̐ͅtͨ̐̓ͭ.̵̭̫͍̲̗̯

 

[Negentropy]

Marvel Ann is the mechanicus who Talks like this all the T I M E

That kind of text is typically called Z̗̬̼̪͔a͎͓̜̣̦͗̂ͅl̘̣̖̗̠͉̋̓͊g͉ͥͦͪ̍ͧo͉̱͈̬̖̻̒̌ͦ̎ͭ ͉̥̗͕ͅt̸͐̿͋̒̐̒̚e̺̓̒ͧx̘͙̏̐ͅtͨ̐̓ͭ.̵̭̫͍̲̗̯

Click to shrink...

Ah, my fault, I really should've caught up with the quest before interrogating you so aggressively - thanks for clearing up the confusion and I'll stop blabbering considering I've broken the "better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt" rule more than once already.

Thanks again for further insight as well as this really interesting quest and sorry for wasting your time.

 

[open_sketch]

Hey, it's cool! I'm eager to hear what you think when you catch up!

 

[baud]

... pretty sure in the Imperium naval terminology, "Dorsal" just means a turret atop the hull.
But if they've got traverse problems, then it's effectively fixed.

Click to shrink...

Though that picture is a Battle Barge, our current ship is a strike cruiser, which has a fixed weapon on the front, which could be the bombardment canon.

 

[Always Late]

Though that picture is a Battle Barge, our current ship is a strike cruiser, which has a fixed weapon on the front, which could be the bombardment canon.

Click to shrink...

*guiltily opens Lexicanum*

The armament of a Strike Cruiser is comparable to that of a Imperial Navy Dauntless Light Cruiser, equipped with two Weapons Batteries. However, the Strike Cruiser omits the lance weaponry in exchange for a mighty Bombardment Cannon. Strike Cruisers can also be equipped with Exterminatus-class weapons or a Nova Cannon.

Click to shrink...

I'd say 'it's late', but I said that around six thirty. Which in my case is still true. I run light on sleep during the weekends.

 

[Simon_Jester]

It's mental and physical rape inspired by Xenomorphs. If it's not bloody disgusting, it's not getting the proper treatment.
... pretty sure in the Imperium naval terminology, "Dorsal" just means a turret atop the hull.
But if they've got traverse problems, then it's effectively fixed.

Click to shrink...

I believe the usual consensus is that "port" and "starboard" continue to refer to the left and right sides, relative to an 'up' defined by the ship's deck layout. 'Dorsal' and 'ventral' come from the Latin for 'back' and 'belly' respectively- imagine the ship as something like a whale traveling through the ocean, and it makes sense that things on the 'upper' surface are dorsal and, on the 'lower' surface, ventral.

The usual way to refer to a big gun built into the ship and sticking out the front end is "spinal" or "axial," as a way of avoiding confusion. But if the actual gun is built along the 'upper' parts of the ship and runs parallel to the long axis, then 'dorsal' is kind of reasonable- picture a whale with a big-ass cannon strapped to its back and facing forward.

I have to say I am concerned at a space marine dismissing a possible attack vector like servant's doors when boarding. That sounds like a great way to be ambushed.

Click to shrink...

Servant access points tend to be a bit concealed at best.

I think it was designed to be unobtrusive enough that it actually escaped the Marine's notice as anything, or that he mis-categorized it as "access panel that lets you get at some machinery underneath, but not a door that leads to a whole room." He's all like "You sure that's a door? I thought that was the fuse box."

On the tabletop, they use extra-large pizzas as blast templates.

Click to shrink...

They're chivalrous, they're sensitive, and [rolls a crit on a Deliberate Misunderstanding check] their artillery shoots pizzas.

I really like these guys.

...
...
...

Anyway, I'm for restraining them and taking them with us. We don't have spare time and could very easily get overrun waiting for a blood test to complete, and it doesn't sound as if Marvel Ann can actually do blood tests on ALL of them in any event. Killing them all or leaving them here without doing the test is unconscionable.

 

[Aunty Shi Ping]

it doesn't sound as if Marvel Ann can actually do blood tests on ALL of them

Click to shrink...

I believe that we are assuming that if one is infected, then all are. It isn't perfect, but it is a good baseline, and enough that we should have about as clear of a conscience as an inquisitor can expect if we space them, and we will test the lot of them if we keep them.

 

[QuarkBeast]

[X] We need to get them out now, and we can investigate them on the ship and put them down if we have to.
-[X] Talk them into coming with. Read the room for the right arguments, but you're there to help, and you're an authority, so hopefully that helps, if they're genuine.
-[X] When you get back to the ship DO NOT let them leave the Thunderhawks until they have been screened

 

[Simon_Jester]

I believe that we are assuming that if one is infected, then all are.

Click to shrink...

That is a dangerous assumption.

On the one hand, it is entirely plausible for a bunch of genestealer cultists to implant one or two of a group of 'escapees' so they have a Plan B in case the cult gets caught.

On the other hand, if we find that one is infected and assume the others are too, well... we're going to spend a long time wondering, in my opinion.

---

[X] We need to get them out now, and we can investigate them on the ship and put them down if we have to.
-[X] Talk them into coming with. Read the room for the right arguments, but you're there to help, and you're an authority, so hopefully that helps, if they're genuine.
-[X] They will have to be restrained.
-[X] When you get back to the ship DO NOT let them leave the Thunderhawks until they have been screened.
-[X] But tell them you will let them onto the ship for screening. If they're genestealers, you want them to think they have a chance to get aboard the Siegebreaker, so they don't jump you while you're in transit back to the ship.

I feel sorry for lying to them and restraining them, but we have no way of knowing if they're friend or foe until we scan them- or for that matter if they're a mix of friends and foes. Keeping ourselves safe matters too.

 

[KyleDaScourge]

So, how dangerous is the average purestrain 'stealer? If they're only approximately as deadly as the humans they look like, then we're in no real danger and they can safely be brought with us for a more detailed inspection. On the other hand, I know Space Hulk revolves around Terminators being torn apart by Genestealers, which implies significantly more danger then we want to mess with. Especially in the close confines of a Thunderhawk.

On the gripping hand, if these guys are uninfected, they've been successfully avoiding the 'stealers for what, at least a week? However long the ship has been under Xeno control. We have been given the option but I'm not sure we're actually well positioned to be extracting them now anyway? How much free space do we have on the transports before we have to start leaving marines behind? How many more hidden pockets of survivors might there be and are these ones we've stumbled over the only ones we care about?

Proposed plan...
[ ] We need to get them out now, and we can investigate them on the ship and put them down if we have to.
-[ ] Marvel Ann will continue collecting her samples.
-[ ] Brother Demirel will stand by and provide overwatch in case anyone gets ideas about attacking while you...
-[ ] Attempt to coax them out one-at-a-time and unarmed, to be restrained and grouped off to the side for escort to the Thunderhawks. Don't even mention testing for infection.
-[ ] Stick to the extraction schedule, leave when it's time to leave, and none of these folks are boarding a thunderhawk without being restrained, disarmed, and passing for human under a standard lookover/frisk.

Get as many of them as we can, as safely as we can, back to the Strike Cruiser. We can test them there, and if any of them are clean, they can be asked about other potential pockets of survivors, at which point we can make a further decision on what to do.

 

[Stewart9]

A few hours later, you and your crew found yourself deeply out of place at the dining table of the Gate Wardens, feeling a little like children in the way you were dwarved by your hosts and your surroundings. You'd always imagined Space Marines ate, like, pills or something, some kind of super ration, but instead they had some kind of incredible feast of roast meat, breads, and vegetables that rivaled anything you might see at a Governor's banquet. And they ate a lot. Twenty-five thousand calories a day, apparently.

"You eat this well all the time?" Charitina asked, helping herself to more. You'd been a little shy at first, until you saw the portions they were taking.

"In quantity, yes, in quality... we did have the serfs pay extra attention." Lieutenant Basak said with a smile.

"Of course, we try to eat well in transit, because it's a lot harder in the field!" one of the more talkative marines, Brother Demirel, added cheerfully, "Trust me, you do not want to have to eat our field rations."

"I don't even think they can." another marine added, with a bit of a sour look on his face.

Despite the feast, there was no booze, though. It wasn't a universal Space Marine thing, most Marines occasionally drank a little at least ceremoniously, but Basak explained that the chapter had a long tradition of avoiding drink, going back to the founding, so that they would not interrupt their vigilance even symbolically. Dahlia, in the smallest voice you'd ever heard from her, so quiet you could barely hear her from right beside her, asked where it came from, and instantly there was a change over the room.

Most of the marines were not good at socializing, at least not with you. There were about three who bothered speaking with you at the table: Basak, Demirel, and one of the scouts that sat at the far end of the table, Topal. The rest regarded you with something between suspicion and complete disregard, but once this question was breached, everyone paid attention.

"Three thousand, one hundred and five years ago..." Lieutenant Basak started, "a Space Marine task force of one hundred and eighty marines, from the Second, Seventh, and Ninth companies of the Sons of Dorn, landed at a planet named Hadleys Hope. It was a small settlement at the time, merely twenty thousand strong, miners and hardy folk. The Sons of Dorn were there only as a rallying point, awaiting the arrival of the rest of their battle group before embarking on an attack on a system held in the grip of the Enemy. But their location was betrayed by forces unknown. A fleet struck their ships from the sky and boiled the Warp to cut them off from their allies, and then began a bombardment and landing a force ten million strong."

He was telling this story like he'd told it a thousand times, which he probably has. It was undoubtedly the most important story in the history of the Chapter, and he must have heard it told like this himself when he joined.

"The Sons of Dorn were lead by Captain Murad of the Second Company, who was a clever and resolute man. He ordered an evacuation into mountains of Hadleys Hope, where thick peaks and ancient mines would shelter them, into a canyon with only one way in. There, the Sons of Dorn and the civilians dug trenches and earthworks, laid traps and minefields, and even planted fields behind the lines to feed them, and they prayed that salvation would come. The enemy assembled on the field before them, burnt the settlement as an offering to their foul gods. And then they attacked, and the marines had to hold until help arrived."

Dahlia was wide-eyed, utterly captivated. You had to admit, the man could spin a yarn.

"And hold they did. Not for a week, not for a month, but for six long years they held the front. They had no moment to rest, no moment to let their guard down. They fired every bolt and bullet they had, they emptied their ammunition stores, they shot the lasguns of the planetary guard until the lenses warped and the power cells burnt out. They fought with knives, shovels, picks, blasting charges, and their fists. They stacked rocks to hurl and roll at their enemy, and they held until there were just thirty men left, pushed all the way back to the entrance of the mine that sheltered the colonists. Among them was Captain Murad, with a broken sword in either hand, his armour rent and torn apart from the fury of their attacks, holding the line."

The other Marines were paying rapt attention. This was sacred to them.

"When all hope seemed lost, light lanced down from the heavens and smote the foe, breaking and scattering them, and the survivors found themselves aided by their brothers, who had finally made it through the warp storms. So impressed were they by the stalwart defense that they petitioned Terra to found a new Chapter to gift to Captain Murad, and he called them the Gate Wardens, for the held at the gates to the last. And the first generation of recruits came from Hadleys Hope, but the population simply was not large enough to support them, so instead of founding a fortress there, our chapter now recruits from the orphans of every war they touch. I myself was born on a planet they saved."

"As was I." Brother Demirel added.

"As was I." another marine said.

And then it rolled through the table as each marine said it in turn.

Marvel Ann applauded, a moment, before realizing that wasn't what she was supposed to do. You thanked your host for the wonderful story, and finished your meal.
---
There was little to do on a long journey through the warp, this one estimated to take somewhere on the order of two months. The usual standby of watching holos was out, mostly, and the Marines were always so busy with training that it quite simply felt like you had the run of the ship, so your party went out in expeditions, two or three at a time, exploring the massive space. When you and Marvel Ann managed to leave your rooms, you paced the halls, so unlike any vessel you'd ever seen, still gleaming after two thousand years. You took a moment at one point, just out of habit, to ask a serf how their masters treated them, and everything seemed on the level. Charitina and Dahlia spent a great deal of time in the chapel, Kilimnik somehow convinced their Thunderhawk pilots to allow him to use their training simulator, and Bookter located the ships library and simply disappeared.

You still met with the Marines frequently for dinner, and you soon started to get a feel for them, learn names, personalities, and histories. Likewise, the marines started warming up to you, and you started to get a rather familiar vibe about them. You saw them frequently out of their armour, wearing simple clothes in their chapter's colours as they exercised, maintained equipment, and trained. They sparred constantly, often seeming to attack each other without warning, sometimes even with live steel. They joked and laughed and even playfully insulted each other, the way you'd often seen young soldiers behave. They seemed... human, just larger. Not just physically, but emotionally, huge. Their silences were deafening, their laughter full-bodied, their momentary anger a storm

Outside their armour, with their faces bare to the world, they hid very little. You had spent a great deal of time around soldiers who had been through terrible things, and more than a little around those suffering from traumatic stress. And almost every Space Marine here showed signs of it.

For all that they trained and fought, they also showed great respect for one another. The marines moved with a great deal of care and silence, talking in low voices, and it felt solemn, but you soon realized it was to sooth their nerves. They warned each other when they passed behind one another, or before they fired weapons in training. One marine, Brother Suvari, never left his armour, only reluctantly removing his helmet to eat, and nobody challenged it.

After prayer one morning, you lingered a while, and after assuring your hosts you were alright, and they assuring you that you didn't have to leave, the marines began a curious ritual. They sat in a circle and discussed their well-being, talking frankly about their stresses and anxieties, about the difficulties they were having, about their worries for upcoming missions. One marine confessed he was experiencing nightmares that sounded very familiar, the sort you took sedatives for, and they were preventing him from getting the four hours sleep they were recommended. Another said that he'd set his helmet stummers to cancel the sound of bolt guns because they were wearing at his nerves and making him shake, and his brothers lauded his adaptive solution, even as they discussed alternate approaches that would not hamper his alertness. Several marines discussed suicidal feelings.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You thought you had been disabused of all of the Imperium's myths, but this one was shattering. You left midway through, ashamed to have seen it, and a few hours later Lieutenant Basak tracked you down to the hanger where you were standing on a gangway, trying to process it as your leaned against the railing and studied the dropships below.

"Lady Inquisitor. Can I have a word?" he asked, deadly serious.

"Of course." you responded automatically, "I'm so sorry."

"Well, that rather stole my thunder, I was coming to apologize to you. When you stayed, I presumed you knew what would happen next." he said, sitting, "I hear most chapters do something like it. But now I realize we may have tarnished our image somewhat, and that image is important to Imperial subjects. Even, it seems, to Inquisitors."

"I've seen a great many things, but few have shaken me like that, I'll admit." you said, "I suppose I thought Space Marines were fearless. I've seen you in battle, and I've heard your stories... the stand at the Gate, all that. It seems... incongruous."

"Of course. As the Emperor Himself once said, 'and they shall know no fear', right? Well... allow me to let you in on a secret, if you would."

You nodded, feeling completely out of your depths.

"In my body are seventeen implanted organs, genetically engineered at the dawn of the Imperium itself. I can go weeks without sleep, breath poison gas like air, learn the instincts of an animal by eating its flesh, and my very bones are made of the same material as my armour. It is a remarkable and holy process, and it is in no way arrogant to say it makes me a more potent warrior than any natural human that has ever lived. But do you know what none of those organs do?"

You thought you did, but you stayed silent.

"Not one of them does anything about fear. We train, we pray, we harden our body and minds, and even while we sleep hypnotic messages instruct us. In combat, we know how to fall back on that instinctive drive. We were out on the Eastern Fringe for twenty-five years before we were recalled here. I faced a Tyranid screamer-killer as it came roaring at me, four talons as large as I was, and I was terrified. I thought I was absolutely going to die, and I was in no way prepared for it. But I killed it, drove my sword through its brain, though it took a few pokes to find it. Not the largest, you see."

You laughed absurdly, not sure what else to do.

"We train non-stop so that our fight, flight, or freeze response will always be fight, and so that even when we are overwhelmed with fear we will fight with skill and ferocity. But it is still there, when the situation is dire enough. After the creature was slain and the battle won, I had a fit of hysterical laughter and then a breakdown, I was practically catatonic until their next wave came. And the beast... it pursued me for months in my nightmares, and I still see the devil now, sometimes. But if he ever comes back for a second go, well, I know where to stick my blade now. You've been in situations like that, I can only imagine."

You nodded. You absolutely had. Not just combat, backed into a corner by heretics at Hoight with your gun near empty, when that demonette cut your hellgun in half and then went for your throat, under artillery barrage at Tellerax Prime. No, there was also the fear when you were pleading for a planet's life with a fellow Inquisitor, trying to avoid what seemed like an inevitable war, talking down a crowd before they got themselves massacred. You'd known fear, and you still knew it, and the only reason you were still here was that through skill and training and sheer pigheadedness you kept fighting, kept talking, kept going until you won the day.

"It's just a saying, Lady Inquisitor. We know fear. And that's why we can beat it."

---
Three days later, the Siegebreaker dropped out of warp. This was common, a way of getting one's bearings in realspace and checking any uncertainties in the exterior of the ship. This time, you did so in a system that didn't even have a name, just a long string of numbers, and you had been invited onto the bridge for the ceremonial opening of one of the ship's few viewports. You brought Dahlia up to watch, sure she would appreciate it.

Almost immediately after doing so, one of the serfs turned to Lieutenant Basak to deliever a sharp report.

"My lord, we have detected a ship in the system. It appears Imperial." he said, and the marine nodded.

"Company. Unusual. Vox them." he said, then he turned to you to explain, "Might just be a passing merchant, might be criminals hiding in a dead system, might be something worse. Best we find out."

The radio waves took thirty minutes to cross the void, and thirty minutes back, and the response seemed on the level. The Lieutenant was about to order the transition back to the Warp when Dahlia pulled your sleeve, and you sheparded her off the bridge to talk.

"What is it, Dahlia?"

"They're lying. The... the ship, of course, not the m-marines, um... okay. Sorry. There's more than just people on that ship, there's something else, sorta. It's big and smart and hungry and they're all part of it." she said, wringing her hands nervously, "Can you please warn them?"

You went back in to do so, but Lieutenant Basak was already issuing orders. He turned to you with a smile.

"I heard. Quite a trick from the girl. If she's right, I think there may be a genestealer cult aboard that vessel, and they'll spread to wherever they go next. Lady Inquisitor... may I have your permission to divert from our mission to deal with this threat?"

"... how long?" you asked.

"Two days." he replied with confidence.
---

[ ] Our mission is too vital. Flag the ship and send a warning out by astropath, but we must continue.
[ ] We can spare two days to spare a world this nightmare.

Spoiler: Commentary

There were two ways I could have written Space Marines, and I wasn't sure which way I would until I got here.

The first, my initial idea, was to make them just awful people. To make them the SS in this fascist nightmare, the ultimate agents upholding this horrible society, their ubermensch. Something monsterous and inhuman, that would put immediate lie to the idea that they could be at all good and that the Emperor could have created them for a good reason.

And then the second approach, and the one I went with. Space Marines as tragic heroes, really and truly doing their utmost to protect people they no longer understand and systems they are far outside, caring for each other and fighting on against the impossible odds. Superhuman, but still human. Not all Marines are this noble, there are probably some closer to the former idea, but I was enamored with the idea, especially once I did realize that there really was no reason that Space Marines ought to be capable of fighting their neverending war and not be touched by it.
I realized then I could only do this, because this is what I want from Warhammer 40,000. I don't want nihilistic horror. I want a tragedy.

@open_sketch First I want to say you have done a great job writing this quest so far and brought up some interesting questions regarding the Cogboys and Girls so I will follow it until you stop writing it. However I feel you are writing the Space Marines as to much like average humans when it comes to their mentality when they are super human and will try to explain why it comes off that way to me. It is one thing to not write them as unfeeling Automatons but I am confused as to why writing them as not the SS means they suffer from PTSD, talk about sucide and go catatonic on the battlefield. Having them show human emotion and be larger then lif e unless they are the Ironhands when writing the loyalists is how they should be written when they are written well but these are guys who if they where not made Space Marines would have still been heroes all. All Chapters specifically recruit the best of the best, young men who did not give up in the face of terrible odds, who where taken to the limit of human endurance both mental and physical and over came so them falling apart after being made super human just does not fit. Added to the fact that these are Sons of Rogal Dorn, the Marines who take the do not give up part to the point to self-flagellation if they think they have failed and I think you have gone a bit to far with this characterization.

Also if they are prone to doing catatonic on the battlefield then how do they survive fighting surround by the enemy for months they how do they not get over run by enemies like Orks or Tyranid who never stop. I would think that making sure they do not suffer from PTSD for example would be one of the things Emperor would make sure did not happen of because of how it would degrade their combat capabilities. If they suffer from Fears so bad that they shutdown it would also make impossible for them to withstand a siege of 6 years during which they had "no moment to rest, no moment to let their guard down" if the example of the Lieutenant said he went catatonic on the field after killing the screamer which would be a perfect time to kill him is something that happens often. Are we going to have to worry about them falling apart on the battlefield because if we do that could cause problems?

If we can trust them to be effective in the field then I can live with it even if it does not fit in my eyes.

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I mean, all we know specifically is that the Marines are discussing suicidal feelings. It's entirely plausible that the exact method of their suicidal ideation is "suicide-by-cop" (by Imperial/Marine authorities) or "suicide-by-picking-impossible-fight." Those are both well within the envelope of suicidal ideation in baseline humans.
Like, I can imagine one of the Marines shakily saying "There was this time during the trench-fighting on Zabriska XII when I felt this incredibly powerful urge to break cover and just charge. I didn't even seriously think my armor could take it, I didn't have a plan or anything, I knew I'd get killed, but I just wanted so much to charge. Just to have it be over, y'know?"
Well the thing is, the Emperor said in so many words "and they shall know no fear." So that's how people think of the Astartes.

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Except just giving up like that would be failing in their duty and that would be something anathema to any Space Marine let alone to the Son of
Dorn.

Seems legit. I mean, it would make sense that in the majority there would be some sort of support structure in place to deal with the traumas of war. Losing brothers, allies, innocent civilians, losing sleep over the choices they made and what they could have done differently, guilt over bad calls and regret about choices that were made for the greater good against their own morality.

Ultramarine successors, blood angels successors, salamanders, and white scars successors would probably be the ones that most consistently apply that.

The actual Adeptus astartes ultra are too high on their own supply. Dark Angels actively go out of their way to cause collateral damage. Raven guard successors probably have edgy poetry or something. Dorn's progeny might be a toss up between having help groups, pain glove junkies, or being too angry/blockheaded.

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True, intentionally taking suicidal actions is well within the remit of Space Marine psychology, much less human. For the Blood Angels, it would be the Red Thirst or the Black Rage. For a Black Templar, it would be a feeling of closeness to the God-Emperor. A Space Wolf may be briefly overwhelmed by his near-feral instincts. The Imperial Fist would see it as a final test of his flesh and prowess. A Salamander would see it as not only a way to protect the mortal guard troopers around him, but as a literal pyre for one of the Fireborn.

Fair enough point. The quote can obviously be taken in two different ways: Literally and metaphorically. And it's the Imperium, so which one gets taken is pretty obvious. And the two major quotes that handle the metaphorical...





They're devotional litanies. They're not going to be spoken in public or distributed for public consumption. They're sermons for chaplains to instill and retain the Loyalist Astartes' piety and devotion while in the Fortress Monastery.
Ah-hem.
Magic Pain Glove.

The Imperial Fists have a bit of a complex when it comes to pain. If taken in a positive light, this is a kind of immersion therapy with a bit of 'meditation'. If taken in a negative light, their response to 'I have reoccurring nightmares and can't entire enclosed spaces without seeing That Thing' is literal torture.

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It is one thing for a Space Marine to be willing to sacrifice themselves during battle, It is quite anther thing for one to have to be continuously talked out of straight up suicide.

Space Marines as human beings? Always an interesting divergence from the normal portrayal. Odd for "they shall know no fear" to be a straight-up lie, though.
As for the delay, we don't want 'nids. And Joanyn is Joanyn. And if the Seer behind the plot we're in didn't see this coming and plan for it they need to get a new Path.
[X] We can spare two days to spare a world this nightmare.

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It depends on where and how they recruit.
And how much they choose to stamp out their lives prior to augmentation. The Chapters with a founding stories of "we're the baddest asses of the sector" is more likely to be callous.
As for fear, fear is a survival instinct, if they were going to make supersoldiers with no fear they'd not bother to give them a lifespan of more than decades, they won't make it that long with literally no fear. What we do see is adrenaline doping and mental conditioning to not let the fear response shut them down.

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Unless they recruited regular guys and did not try to weed-out the weak this seems a bit much considering guys that would commit suicide when things get really bad would not make it through the process that Space Marine recruits go through before they even get to the implantation stage of the process.

Praxis is speaking in trends and moments. The Marines are generally very considerate, but are still training each other, and are still big emojis. Praxis just isn't picking up on the unspoken social contexts these are happening in.

The constant sparring is based on the descriptions of the marines from Generation Kill doing the same.

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*squeees*
DREADNOUGHT!
So Dahlia is incubating Technopathic abilities. Neat. Also, the Dreadnought is comforting and deferring to a scared little girl. Now that's right and proper chivalry.
A captain, eh? Must have been a sergeant under the Gate Wardens' founder Captain Murad. No wonder they keep him interred. He is a living relic to the founding figure of the chapter.

... leaving a love letter to a Dreadnought? That's a pleasant first.

This is why my favorite unit in Warhammer is the Space Marine dreadnought. He is dead. He lives an un-life of perpetual torment in a tiny box, bonded to a Machine Spirit as his memories flicker and fade, supporting new and unfamiliar faces when awakening and enduring a dreamless sleep when locked in stasis.

An occupant in a dreadnought asks for this. His duty is done, no one denies him that. Yet he asks his officers to serve yet more. An Astartes Dreadnought is a knight who has passed the brink of death, yet marches onwards to the day he finds release.

I am imagining a combination of these two images is what Praxis will find when she locates Ancient Cassius' tomb:

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Plus the Machine Spirit in the sarcophagus is one of those Land Raider-esque highly active ones, and whenever a Dreadnought awakes he is continually fed data through the Mind Impulse unit. Akin to a Titan's Princepts or a Knight Pilot having their mind affected by bleedover, Cassius is still himself, but he is bonded mind and body with the Dreadnought. It's his identity just as much as the young boy and the Battle-Brother were in the past.

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I would like to point out that a Marine has to be alive when they are put in a Dreadnought, wounded on to death and clinging to life yes, but still alive when they are put in a the Dreadnought. I suspect that our QM has a reason for this ancient to be acting more like a machine then the space marine he still is. Interacting with our psyker should be good for both of them.

Now on to the vote. We have been playing our Inquisitor as someone who will not take lives unless they are beyond saving and we have evidence that these people are not so far gone as not be rescue-able. Then there is the fact that if any of them are infected it gives our Mechanicus ally a chance to study the Genestealer implantation process at the start which as a member of the Biologis she is perfect for. The fact that we are on a time limit however means that we need to move fast and that means getting them to the ship where we can test them in a control setting.

[X] We need to get them out now, and we can investigate them on the ship and put them down if we have to.
-[X] Talk them into coming with. Read the room for the right arguments, but you're there to help, and you're an authority, so hopefully that helps, if they're genuine.
-[X] They will have to be restrained.
-[X] When you get back to the ship DO NOT let them leave the Thunderhawks until they have been screened.
-[X] But tell them you will let them onto the ship for screening. If they're genestealers, you want them to think they have a chance to get aboard the Siegebreaker, so they don't jump you while you're in transit back to the ship.

The one problem with this is we did not come over on a Thunderhawk but a boarding ram which does not have a lot of extra room.

 

[Always Late]

The one problem with this is we did not come over on a Thunderhawk but a boarding ram

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No, it was a Thunderhawk.

You were coming in on the second Thunderhawk, sandwiched between marines in full armour with a breathing mask on.

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It just happened to have a massive drill instead of a ramp.

 

[Aunty Shi Ping]

I am not an expert on 'stealers. How viable is it to have a giant metal-cleaving claw hidden under an apparent-human's clothes? Hidden under their skin? What about horking-up/bursting-into a wash of extremely corrosive toxins? Can one contain enough acid to eat through the hull of a boarding ram? Can they act as a psychic relay to an effect that could rip their immediate terrain apart like wet paper? I would really like to calibrate my worst-case scenario...

 

[Stewart9]

No, it was a Thunderhawk.

It just happened to have a massive drill instead of a ramp.

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Yet it was also said that that we where in a boarding Ram that melted its way in to the ship instead of a drill that cut its way in and even if it was a Thuderhawk we still where pack into it meaning that we do not have a lot of extra space to put these people in which makes getting them out complicated in ways other then whether they are infected or not.

Inside was the familiar interior of an Imperial ship, all grey and brown metal, now twisted and cracked by the constant bombardment. A pipe was hanging loose and pouring out water that was already up to your ankles, and the whole room was hot, the result of the boarding ram melting through the metal and allowing it to form a seal around it. When you left, it would leave the front of the ram behind in the enemy vessel, like a bee's stinger.

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So, how dangerous is the average purestrain 'stealer? If they're only approximately as deadly as the humans they look like, then we're in no real danger and they can safely be brought with us for a more detailed inspection. On the other hand, I know Space Hulk revolves around Terminators being torn apart by Genestealers, which implies significantly more danger then we want to mess with. Especially in the close confines of a Thunderhawk.

On the gripping hand, if these guys are uninfected, they've been successfully avoiding the 'stealers for what, at least a week? However long the ship has been under Xeno control. We have been given the option but I'm not sure we're actually well positioned to be extracting them now anyway? How much free space do we have on the transports before we have to start leaving marines behind? How many more hidden pockets of survivors might there be and are these ones we've stumbled over the only ones we care about?

Proposed plan...
[ ] We need to get them out now, and we can investigate them on the ship and put them down if we have to.
-[ ] Marvel Ann will continue collecting her samples.
-[ ] Brother Demirel will stand by and provide overwatch in case anyone gets ideas about attacking while you...
-[ ] Attempt to coax them out one-at-a-time and unarmed, to be restrained and grouped off to the side for escort to the Thunderhawks. Don't even mention testing for infection.
-[ ] Stick to the extraction schedule, leave when it's time to leave, and none of these folks are boarding a thunderhawk without being restrained, disarmed, and passing for human under a standard lookover/frisk.

Get as many of them as we can, as safely as we can, back to the Strike Cruiser. We can test them there, and if any of them are clean, they can be asked about other potential pockets of survivors, at which point we can make a further decision on what to do.

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I am not an expert on 'stealers. How viable is it to have a giant metal-cleaving claw hidden under an apparent-human's clothes? Hidden under their skin? What about horking-up/bursting-into a wash of extremely corrosive toxins? Can one contain enough acid to eat through the hull of a boarding ram? Can they act as a psychic relay to an effect that could rip their immediate terrain apart like wet paper? I would really like to calibrate my worst-case scenario...

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The Purestrain Genestealers are the ones that you see in the regular Nid codex that have claws that can cut in to Terminator armor and can not pass for human in any way shape or form. Anyone who is sufficiently down the road towards a full stealer will be easy to spot because they will have extra limbs or purplish skin, things that give them away if it immediately they not covered up. People who are infected but otherwise pass for human will look like regular humans on the outside and are no more dangerous then regular humans with or without weapons. The most we would have to worry about is them having a telepathic connection to the Prime Stealer on the ship which depending how we role could be a problem.

 

[veekie]

Unless they recruited regular guys and did not try to weed-out the weak this seems a bit much considering guys that would commit suicide when things get really bad would not make it through the process that Space Marine recruits go through before they even get to the implantation stage of the process.

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Depends. The process seems extremely customizable, and varies a great deal in how much hazing testing they undergo before they start implantation. The hardass chapters tend to focus a lot on how brutal and cruel the testing is and how they are very very Hard men who are the only ones who pass, the rest being dead or serfs.

I'm not sure how much of the brutal testing is even necessary, genetic compatibility is the most important factor followed by psychological compatibility.

 

[open_sketch]

My reason for writing the dreadnought the way I did is Codex: Ultramarines, which describe dreadnoughts as walking tombs, as twin tragedies: the chapter loves a comrade too much to let him die, and instead he must watch them all die, one by one, as he becomes an Old One, treated more as one of the chapter's relics than a member.

In the literal sense, no, he is not dead. But the word they consistently use to describe being placed in a dreadnought is ''interred'. If you don't know, that's a word that means 'to place a body in a tomb'.

The ceremony to do it was a funeral, make no mistake.

When people say that they miss when warhammer was self aware, they usually mean when warhammer could poke fun at itself or be satirical about stuff. But it's not the only kind of self awareness they lost. Before the grimdark took hold, the writers had a much better sense of the tragic, and the dreadnought is one of my favourite examples.

Regarding the space marines and psychology, this may surprise you but torturing somebody doesn't make them immune to being traumatized, nor is it a one to one match to the rigours of a life of long voyages broken up by a variety of completely horrifying combat situations. Space marines are people, and people experience combat stress reaction and subsequent processing in many, many different ways. Some people handle it very well: Basak seems fine. Others less so.

Not to mention the utter heartbreak of, for example, losing a comrade who is almost literally, genetically your brother, who you fought beside for years or maybe even decades. And being as they are big greek heroes, some of them are probably also lovers. There are probably marines who never entirely recover from things like that.

 

[Always Late]

My reason for writing the dreadnought the way I did is Codex: Ultramarines, which describe dreadnoughts as walking tombs, as twin tragedies: the chapter loves a comrade too much to let him die, and instead he must watch them all die, one by one, as he becomes an Old One, treated more as one of the chapter's relics than a member.

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Plus he gets Dreadnought!Alzheimer's as the life-support systems of the sarcophagus slowly lose their effectiveness. If Ancient Cassian survives another three or four hundred years, he may very well not remember his own life before being an Astartes. Or the first time a Battle-Brother he never knew in life seeking his wisdom. Or the time a scared little girl wandered into his sanctum, and was given comfort. The slow, merciless ticking of time chipping away at his mind until nothing remains.

When people say that they miss when warhammer was self aware, they usually mean when warhammer could poke fun at itself or be satirical about stuff. But it's not the only kind of self awareness they lost. Before the grimdark took hold, the writers had a much better sense of the tragic, and the dreadnought is one of my favourite examples.

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I wholeheartedly agree.

 

[veekie]

Regarding the space marines and psychology, this may surprise you but torturing somebody doesn't make them immune to being traumatized, nor is it a one to one match to the rigours of a life of long voyages broken up by a variety of completely horrifying combat situations. Space marines are people, and people experience combat stress reaction and subsequent processing in many, many different ways. Some people handle it very well: Basak seems fine. Others less so.

Not to mention the utter heartbreak of, for example, losing a comrade who is almost literally, genetically your brother, who you fought beside for years or maybe even decades. And being as they are big greek heroes, some of them are probably also lovers. There are probably marines who never entirely recover from things like that.

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Really, as far as I can tell the torture is mainly good for:
-Is this person willing to be subject to torture for advancement?
-How well does this person resist torture?