TO BURN, VENT, OR TAKE AS PRIZE (Warhammer 40k Naval Quest)

[DragonCobolt]

Cruise Start Date: 3.004.755.m41 | CRUISE COMPLETE
Shiptime: 180 Days
Current Date: 3.412.756.m41
Current Location: The Tempestos Ring
Current Status: Under Repair and Refit for Duty


CHRISTENING: The VALIANT
CLASS: Falchion Class | KEEL LAID: 02.0011.231.m41
COMPLICATION: Haunted (-10 to max morale, +6 to detection, enemies get -10 to boarding/hit and run attacks)
MACHINE SPIRIT TEMPERAMENT: Wrothful! (+1 speed, +7 to maneuverability in combat, -1 speed, -5 maneuverability, -5 detection while out of combat)

--

HULL INTEGRITY: 36/36 | VOID SHIELDS: 1 | ARMOR: 18
TURRET RATING: 1 | SPEED: 9 (7) | MANEUVERABILITY: +24 (+12) | DETECTION: +30 (+25)
CREW QUALITY: Elite (40%) | CREW: 99/100 | MORALE: 87/90
SUPPLIES: 12 Months (at 6 months go on short rations)

--

Dimensions: 2.2 Kilometres in Length | 0.3 Kilometres abeam at the Fins
Mass: 6.5 Megatonnes (approx) | Crew: 27,871 Souls (may the God Emperor Protect)
Acceleration: 4.6 Gravities (Constant)



DORSAL CANNONS

Mars Cannons
The Jumping Bastard, Long-Lolly, Big Lass, Old Contemptible, 'Nought More, Domination, Obliteration, The Silly Lad, Gigatech, Omnisiah's Child, Emperor's Fist and The Smiling Jack
Range: 6 | Strength: 3 | Damage: 1d10+3 (Crit: 5)

Ryza Cannons
Furious Sun, The Sisters
Range: 5 | Strength: 5 | Damage: 1d10+6 (Crit: 4)
If this weapon deals the Destroyed critical hit, it destroys two components rather than one

TORPEDOES
Speed: 10 Void Units per Turn | Damage: 2d10+14 (Crit: 10) | Terminal Penetration: 3
Rating: +20
Maximum Range: 60
14 Torpedoes

Spoiler: Ship Component List

Space: 34/34 | Power: 42/45

Jovian Pattern Class 2 Plasma Drive: Blessed be her Fury, for she Driveth us to Salvation.
(Space: 10 | Power: 45 Generated)

Stelov I Warp Engine: Blessed by her Swiftness, for she Taketh us to the Foe
(Space: 9 | Power: 9 | This Component is Best Quality, reducing it's Space and Power requirements by 1.

Weir-Miller Pattern Geller Field: Blessed be her Aegis, for she Hold the Darkness at Bay
(Space: 0 | Power: 1)

Single Layer Mars Pattern Void Shield Array: Blessed be her Sneer, for she Winks upon Death
(Space: 1 | Power: 5)

Command Bridge: Blessed be her Ire, for thou shall smite her enemies from this sacred place.
(Space: 1 | Power: 2) | Special: +5 to Command Checks and +5 to BS checks. If unpowered, roll 1d10. On a 1-3, this bridge is not unpowered)

Vitae Pattern Life Sustainer: Blessed be her Breath, for thou shall sup from her teat and live evermore
(Space: 2 | Power: 4)

Voidsmen Quarters: Blessed be her Arms, for the encircle your Earthly Body.
(Space: 3 | Power: 1)

Deep Void Auger Array: Blessed be her Eye, for she Sees All
(Space: 0 | Power: 7)

Prow Mounted Voss Pattern Torpedo Tubes: Blessed be her Fist, for she striketh the foe!
(Space: - | Power: 1) | This component is included automatically and cannot be removed.

Dorsal Mounted Mars Pattern Macrocannon Batteries: Blessed be he Sword, for she sweeps away the Shield
(Space: 2 | Power: 4)

Dorsal Mounted Ryza Pattern Plasma Battery: Blessed be her Lance, for she driveth into thy Enemy's Belly
(Space: 4 | Power: 7) | This component is of best quality, adding +1 Strength and +1 Damage. Praise the Emperor.

Munitorium: Blessed be her Quiver, for it is Ever Filled with her Hate
(Space: 2 | Power: 1) | This component is of best quality, reducing Space and Power Requirement by 1. Hail to the Omnisiah!
VOLATILE: IF THIS COMPONENT IS DAMAGED, IT EXPLODES, DEALING 2D5 DAMAGE TO THE SHIP IGNORING ARMOR AND SETTING A NEARBY COMPONENT ON FIRE

COMPLIMENT

Bridge Crew
Captain: Commander VYNN
First Officer: Lieutenant Yorke ZELLA
Chief Surgeon: Doctor Jonathan BALTHEZAR
Helm Officer: Lieutenant, 2nd Class, Privata SONJA Blitzkovatch
Ship's Master: Xandi ES
Gunner's Mate, 1st Class: Sujek KHAN
Gunner's Mate, 2nd Class: Khotar VROOK


Guildsmen and Civilian Officials
Cartho-Artifex: Sir Jividias VONT (the Younger)
Chief Purser: Mrs. Sydwynn Carter
Head Confessor: KURGHAN Malik

Midshipmen
Mr. Tommen Blakely (aged 13)
Mr. Vindalin Cork (aged 15)
Mr. Dashire Rainwild (aged 14)
Mr. Bower Xon III (Aged 12)
Mr. Ted (Age 13)


The Priesthood of Mars
Chief Enginseer (aka Enginseer Primus): Isabella "ISA" Turantawix


Navis Nobiline
Warp Guide: GALE of the House Nobiline Majoris Stikellan-Vorin-Ma (Guiding Light of the Astronomicon, The Daring One, Mistress of the Stars)
Warp Secondus: SEVERUS GALE of the House Nobiline Majoris Stikellan-Vorin-Ma, Husband to GALE
Warp Tertrius: MARY GALE of the House Nobiline Majoris Stikellan-Vorin-Ma, eldest daughter to GALE
Warp Quaternus: TOMMEN GALE of the House Nobiline Majoris Stikellan-Vorin-Ma, younger son to GALE

The Crew

Boatswain Frik (MIA, ship-date 112 at warp, no body found)
Able Voidsman Darya Ivanova
Able Voidman Sa'adah Sanguhamat (Died of Infection, ship-date 108 at Warp, consigned to the Void, God Emperor Bless His Soul)
Able Voidsman Nasir Naaji
Voidsman Akulina Ignatov (Died of Infection, ship-date 108 at Warp, consigned to the Void, God Emperor Bless Her Soul)
Voidsman Irina Kuznetsov (Died of Infection, ship-date 108 at Warp, consigned to the Void, God Emperor Bless Her Soul)
Voidsman Lev Volkov
Voidsman Mikha'il Abdulrashid
Voidsman Isra Saqqaf
Voidsman Asim Ahmad
Voidsman Happy Jack Sheng

 

[Baron Ouroboros]

[X] Lady-Captain Anastasia Astra Symonne Faydra - third heir to the Faydra Dynasty, a potent Rogue Trader dynasty, known for privateering and trading in objects of dubious legality including the Cold Trade itself, buying and selling xenos artifacts? Oh, also, you may have slept with her. On occasion. During your youth. Ah. Yes. Hmm...though, last you had heard, she was not the Trader herself of her Dynasty. How did she get here? And does she bear her Warrant or is she merely a serving girl for her Dynasty? Or...worse, has she gone truly rogue?

 

[DragonCobolt]

OH!

One thing I forgot to make clear

The lines on the map are the most COMMONLY USED warp routes - which are usually stable and usually fairly quick (between 5-60 days.) You can TRY to go anywhere from anywhere, but if your course directly bisects the Shoals of the Damned, you will be riding through a warp storm (which means you suffer the Warp Storm event every day for as long as you're in the area.)

...for perspective, this means that every single day, if your geller fields are up, I roll a 1d10 twice and take the lower result.

This is the table you'll be rolling against.



But still, so long as you try to avoid going through the Shoals, you can risk a "straight shot" from any destination - but each time you do, the navigator will auger the route, and...she isn't always right. She can be wrong - and if she's wrong, you could throw yourself to damnation or worse. But it may be required to take risks, especially if the quarry may escape your grasp...

 

[ancusohm]

Oooh, I love rogue traders, but I think I'm going to have to go with the navy intrigue option.

[X] Captain Anastasia Astra Symonne Faydra - captain of the Spitfire, last time you had checked, a rather admirable little Sword Class Frigate...but not a dishonorable officer, not in the slightest. What on Terra is going on here? And why is your former lover out here? ...the decks of the Victory got a mite cold from time to time, it isn't an indiscretion at all, not in the slightest, besides, no one could say you had been carrying on...

 

[clockworkchaos]

[x] Lady-Captain Anastasia Astra Symonne Faydra - third heir to the Faydra Dynasty, a potent Rogue Trader dynasty, known for privateering and trading in objects of dubious legality including the Cold Trade itself, buying and selling xenos artifacts? Oh, also, you may have slept with her. On occasion. During your youth. Ah. Yes. Hmm...though, last you had heard, she was not the Trader herself of her Dynasty. How did she get here? And does she bear her Warrant or is she merely a serving girl for her Dynasty? Or...worse, has she gone truly rogue?

 

[Valerian]

[x] Lady-Captain Anastasia Astra Symonne Faydra - third heir to the Faydra Dynasty, a potent Rogue Trader dynasty, known for privateering and trading in objects of dubious legality including the Cold Trade itself, buying and selling xenos artifacts? Oh, also, you may have slept with her. On occasion. During your youth. Ah. Yes. Hmm...though, last you had heard, she was not the Trader herself of her Dynasty. How did she get here? And does she bear her Warrant or is she merely a serving girl for her Dynasty? Or...worse, has she gone truly rogue?

Yeesss, a Catwoman to Vynn's Batgirl.

Also, Rogue Traders are almost always neck deep in intrigue, piracy, exploitation of wayward colonies and flitting far to close to Warp Storms and abandoned systems.

 

[KhazintheDark]

"Dragon, how many ex girlfriends can Vynn have?"

"As many as want to

Click to shrink...

Many a sailer tells the tale of a lady in every port, but if you did the math you'd figure out right quick, that those ladies have a man on every ship.

 

[atrophy]

[X] Mistress Anastasia Astra Symonne Faydra - she had merely been a pirate last time, but oh poor Astra, poor Astra, lovely Astra, you had met by crossing swords during a minor engagement, and things had carried on as youthful women do when swords are involved, but...to see her corrupted into a clear servant of Chaos is still a blow. A terrible blow. ...even if she is...quite a comely example of the perfidious foe...

 

[veekie]

[X] Mistress Anastasia Astra Symonne Faydra - she had merely been a pirate last time, but oh poor Astra, poor Astra, lovely Astra, you had met by crossing swords during a minor engagement, and things had carried on as youthful women do when swords are involved, but...to see her corrupted into a clear servant of Chaos is still a blow. A terrible blow. ...even if she is...quite a comely example of the perfidious foe...

 

[DragonCobolt]

Be still, your traitor heart!

"You recognize her?" Jon asks, with his damnable far sighted eye, why couldn't he be worse at tarot and better at keeping naval warfare straight inside of his overbooked, fact riddled box.

"Well, yes," you mutter into your collar as Sonja exclaims.

"That's the crest of the Faydra Dynasty."

Because of course Astra was wearing her family crest upon her flamboyant harlequin checkered outfit, all green and gold, with her broad brimmed cap and the xenos feather plume and her eyepatch, of coruse. The eye beneath was fully human, she simply thought it was a handsome look and you had to admit, it did become her: Slender and knife-sharp, with short cropped hair that was so blond it was nearly white, though in the pict, she had started to grow it out, leaving it in the awkward space between long and short, where it began to tickle the ears and you were always tempted to hack the offending length off with a sword. She was caught mid order, pointing to her house troopers, looking pleased as a pigox in a mire.

"A Rogue Trader?" Zella rumbles, sounding quite iresome.

"Aye, Astra- er, that is, Anastasia Symonne Faydra," you say. "She's the third daughter of Zioelle Symonne Faydra and Bigwise Faydra." You step closer to the pict-display and snap your fingers. "But I see no Warrant."

"Would she be carrying it around while raiding?" Zella asks, sounding disbeliving.

"Oh, yes," you say. "Traders are flippant about such things - signed by the Emperor, carried about the neck, all that." You flick your hand. Technically, they normally carried pict-copies, with the originals in stasis units somewhere in their demanses, but a copy was still a terribly potent thing for their political status. A Rogue Trader was a unique sort of captain. Chartists, the common run of voidship captain, were those who had been given a charter to go from here and there, carrying this and that. Nominally, they were chained to the charter's strictures - only to carry ten thousand megatonnes of groxhide from Capella to Denolia and such - but there was a great deal of winking when it came to their actual activities. At least, when it came to those lucky sorts who had gotten Hereditary Charters. Those passed from father to son or mother to daughter or from father to each son for those unfortunate fortunates who had been signatured to gavelkind contracts, but such contracts sorted themselves out with a spate of fratricide and back door dealings so you never much needed to worry over it. With hereditary contracts, they would eventually come to a date where the original planetary routes weren't simply unneeded, they were often overrun by 'nids or orks or the planets were balls of cinders and ash or had been removed from the history books for some kind of slight or any number of other possibilities.

When that lucky, happy day came, the chartists in question were freed from the letter of the law to the welcoming embrace of common law - the law that most Imperial agents applied based on their senses of what was rational at the time - and they became true, honest merchantmen: Traveling among planets as they saw fit, carrying what they thought would make a profit. Everyone was happy! Well, save for the planets that had been destroyed. But the merchantmen never had to speak to them again, so they were oft not overly burdened by sorrow.

Rogue Traders skipped all those steps and then some.

Their Warrants transfigured them into something between a dashing Naval captain, a Machine Cult explorator, a pirate, a scoundrel, a heretic, an imperial governor, and a celebrity. They were free - such an intoxicating word! - to not only buy and sell and trade and meddle within the Imperium, but to go beyond its boarders, to worlds unclaimed by the Adeptus Terra and to do as they wished. Set up colonies. Find ancient archeotechnology. Sell the ancient archeotechnology. Experiment with the ancient archeotechnology...there was an alarming amount of latitude.

Still, the Warrant could but be held by a single Rogue Trader at a time.

(Save for certain exceptions involving marriages and twins and the Polygyast clause, and the temporal slippage caviat, and...)

"If she's not bearing the Warrant, what does that mean?" Sonja asks.

"Well," you say, with authority. "She may be serving as the agent of her House. Her father, who had the Warrant last I checked with her-"

"Wait, you know her?" Sonja asks.

"Ah," you say, your face coloring, and the happy three month stay while the Victory had set in for repair and revictualing upon the shores of Ebsydian flashed upon your mind: the tall grass, the wonderful shimmying way that Astra had wriggled so out of her chemise, the bright color of her painted nipples, the flavor of her skin as you had kissed your way down her belly to..."Yes, well, ahem, I have met quite a few Traders in my day. It's how I got my step, you know! Jornan Hall himself set foot upon my homeworld, Aquios, and my half-brother planned to murder him and steal his things. Being a good lass, I figured this was a blackguard sort of thing to do, so I threw my spear-"

"Spear?" Mr. Cork squeaked.

"Mr. CORK!" Zella roared. "Are you practicing your Listening rather than tending to your duties?"

"Yes, no, sir!" Mr. Cork had gone entirely white and you chuckle.

"Yes, well, Death Worlds," you say, spreading your hands. "Now, so, I transfixed my half brother through the heart, and that quite ruined the ambush, though, not before Hall's old Arch Militant had been killed. So, he snatched her hat from her and handed it to me and offered me the job on the spot." You smile. "Offered my pay in the form of a glass bead, ha ha! I was quite the ignorant little savage then." You shake your head fondly. "Still, six years of adventure and excitement later, I proclaimed that I would take my own ship, and Jornan bought me a commission into the navy. Midshipman Vynn was a bit of a step down from master of arms for the Hall Dynasty, but it was the difference between always using a bolter and a sword versus getting a ship and, well, that was that." You pause, trying to find where you had begun this anecdote. "And, so, that connection is why I got invited to a soiree on the paradise world of Ebsydian and, there, I met Astra, er, Anastasia, and we danced, and...well..."

"Another piece of evidence for the health and robust charisma of Death Worlders," Jon proclaimed.

"Ahhh!" Sonja chuckles, then winks at you. "I see, Captain."

Your face colors. "Yes, well, if she's on House business, then it does not follow she is captaining the End of Days..." You frown. "But then again, it doesn't not not follow. Still, I was planning to take her as a prize...her the ship, that is..."

"Of course, Captain."

You glower at Sonja, who does not look any less cheery.

"If she's already hit this system, then surely, she has traveled on," Zella says, his metal jaw clicking as he steps to the hololithic projection table in the bridge. He speaks the command prayers and wakens the machine spirit, bringing up a grainy, glittering projection of sub-sector, which flickers and dances. He points. "There are but two known life bearing worlds in this sub-sector: One was sighted about the Roil in the 38th millennium - so it may be a cinder by now. Then, there is the capital, which is a run through the Storms. I think, if she wants to raid, she'll be either here..." He points to the natural choke point of the Shoals, Caligo's Folly. "...or here..." He points to the Roil. "If she hopes ships will come to resupply there, an excellent place..."

He raises good points. You know Astra, she's a flamboyant type, prone to fanciful and flourishing strokes, drama for drama's sake from time to time. But last you had checked, she was no cold blooded murderer - and the colony of Simova is still intact enough to complain, which would be significantly better than if they had been rummaged by a Chaos reaver...hurm...

SET COURSE - BUT WHERE?

[] To Caligo's Folly, direct!
[] To Caligo's Folly, by means of the Wailing Star Route
[] To the Roil, direct!
[] To the Roil, by means of the DS-9 Route
[] To Simova Prime for resupply and shore leave (this will restore morale to maximum ...but also take 6 weeks in total for travel time, R&R, and travel time back to the edge of the system.)

 

[KreenWarrior]

[x] To Simova Prime for resupply and shore leave (this will restore morale to maximum ...but also take 6 weeks in total for travel time, R&R, and travel time back to the edge of the system.)

Getting max morale seems amazing. given that we're currently at 40/90.

 

[Chengar Qordath]

[X] To Simova Prime for resupply and shore leave (this will restore morale to maximum ...but also take 6 weeks in total for travel time, R&R, and travel time back to the edge of the system.)

On top of the much-needed morale boost, our supply situation isn't exactly great either.

 

[ConfusedCanuck]

[X] To Simova Prime for resupply and shore leave (this will restore morale to maximum ...but also take 6 weeks in total for travel time, R&R, and travel time back to the edge of the system.)

 

[10ebbor10]

[X] To Simova Prime for resupply and shore leave (this will restore morale to maximum ...but also take 6 weeks in total for travel time, R&R, and travel time back to the edge of the system.)

ADVENTURE VACATION

 

[ancusohm]

or from father to each son for those unfortunate fortunates who had been signatured to gavelkind contracts

Click to shrink...

Gavelkind is the worst in every universe!

[X] To Simova Prime for resupply and shore leave (this will restore morale to maximum ...but also take 6 weeks in total for travel time, R&R, and travel time back to the edge of the system.)

I'm tempted to head to Caligo's Folly directly, but I believe we're down to about six months of supplies, and that seems like a long journey off of the beaten trail.

 

[DragonCobolt]

Oh, another thing to clarify, the way supply works is thus!

6 months of good supply
Then each month after that, something minor goes wrong as supplies get stretched.
After another 6 months, you're at serious risk of plague or scurvy.

After that, you get hit with actual starvation rules.

 

[veekie]

[X] To Simova Prime for resupply and shore leave (this will restore morale to maximum ...but also take 6 weeks in total for travel time, R&R, and travel time back to the edge of the system.)

 

[DragonCobolt]

It is a delightful thing, the touch of a governor's wife. Now, your confessor may have words to say, words involving fidelity and honor and so on, and Isa might have had some sharp and entirely condemnatory things to say, but fortunately, neither needed to know. Neither, true, did the governor. In fact, it was of your opinion that the best way for all governors to live their lives was to be entirely unaware, like the grox in the pen with the sublimination induction units running at full tilt through their tiny lizard brains, of all the intrigues going on about them.

Thus, the week you spent in port passed quite pleasantly. It took a two week burn - mostly losing that damned lateral momentum and then allowing your fine ship to be captured by the gravitational well of Simova itself. The planet was not exactly what you would call like - it was a Mercurial world, on the lighter edge of such things, meaning lead could be convinced to not run like water when cast into a shadow, and a man might survive half a heart beat rather than a quarter if exposed upon the surface. In short, it was the kind of world favored most by the mining cartels, where the heavy veins of minerals were easily accessed and the most exotic kinds of elements were created by the influx of radiation upon the planetary surface it was all quite dull, and all the Governor Cortez and his disreputable band of guildsmen were interested in talking about. It was actually a bit of a jolt, honestly, to have to sit among guildsmen whose main concern was of the extraction and shipping of metals (mostly to be processed at Galax and Valders) when you yourself were quite in debt due to the collapse of the metal markets a mere one sub-sector over.

Said collapse had left them all quite happy with their situation (and explained why both merchantmen, who had reached orbit three days before your sprightly frigate, despite taking a more direct course to it, had both come to fill their holds with ores and the like.) They had plenty to sell, and the next sub-sector had plenty to buy, and thus, you were left in an entirely black mood for the first dinner party, which was held in the rather impressive sealed dome that Cortez made his personal habitat. A crater, sealed off from the skies, with greenery and a false sky painted overhead, it was all very picturesque, despite the damage wrought by the pillagers and his unfortunate taste in statuary of the Saint Sabbat - you were not sure how many times you could stand to see her glowering at you before you were quite put off in your appetites.

Still, your black mood had lifted somewhat when, at last, Cortez's wife, Rosella, had arrived from her time in Canyon City, the primary settlement, so named for the fact it was constructed in a series of relatively geologically stable canyons that were then capped off much as the Governor's estates were. And, ah, Rosella. Midnight black skin and burnished bronze limbs and an augmetic vocodor for a throat, but not the crude kind you had seen in some women - she was a proper dilettante, a dabbler in the field of augmentation, and she did look ever so fetching, even if she said it was due to an incident involving a depressurized seal-lock and an attempted quick play in the noble's great game.

"Oh yes, combat wyrm, if you can believe it," she had said, laughing when you had inquired to the details. "Some poor serving man with a cranium jack had half his mind overwrit to carry the thing - and carry it he did, right into the...the...what do you tech priests call it?"

She had asked that of Isa, who you had, of course, invited, along with the rest of your bridge crew and the mids and the other cog-botherers from the research crew that Isa had brought with her. Isa had said, between a sip from her decanter: "The substraum - it is a sacred place, to hear of it being so profaned is...upsetting. Though, I am glad you have come of it so nicely."

Rosella had laughed, and her husband had ignored her and the conversation in favor of discussing with Captain Xhao, the captain of the Merry Jig. They were discussing kilogram to profit ratios on shipping ores of various kinds, and seemed entirely disinterested in Rosella and you, which enabled you to compliment her upon the fineness of her house (to your delight, she referred to the decorations as 'grotesquely overdoing it') and then, to compliment her augmentations, to which she had chuckled and murmured, soft, that maybe you would not mind taking a closer look.

And take a closer look you had.

The join of arm to shoulder...the seam of scar along the throat...the rasping crackle when her pleasure and joy overcame the vocodor...the arching of the spine and the tightening of brass thighs...the sleekness of belly muscle...the sweet taste of sweat upon the skin, you had seen quite a lot about her augmentations, and had nothing but fine, sterling things to say for them. As an Imperial Officer, you did have standards, and so while your voidsmen were busy slaking themselves with the overworked and under-compensated red lantern district of Canyon City, you were sure to behave with considerably more honor and dignity - for one, Rosella never did miss an orgasm once, even if you had to ply quite hard with tongue and finger and, yes, dare you say, it teeth as well. With her satiated and her husband none the wiser, you were in an exceptionally good mood when you returned to the ship, as was the rest of the crew, was was your purser, a dour woman of fifty years of age named Sydwynn Carter, who enumerated that a full years of supplies had been placed.

This, of course, put an ever so slight exaggeration to the initial report of a colony stripped to the bones...

That was the first discussion you had when the ship had weighed orbit and cast itself into a graceful parabolic towards the edge of the primay's gravity well. You had discussed with Zella about the damage the colony had sustained. His growling inquirer and the reports he had gotten had made him quite certain that the raiders had struck rather surgically - there were a scant thirty, forty dead and twice that wounded among the local protectorate, and most of the supplies taken had been the kind required to keep a voidship sailing, and the kind that the colony had the means to reproduce in limited fashions, at least until new merchants arrived for them to take. This was a relief, as you rather hoped Astra hadn't become a total blackguard. But it did raise the question: Was she captaining the End of Days? And if not, where was the raider? And if she was not, what ship was she captaining? The Faydra fleet, from the information in the ship's logs (last updated concerning the Dynasty in the year 498, so not entirely the most up to date) said they had twelve transports, four frigates (three bought off from the navy, one wrested from a space hulk), two cruisers and a grand old Repulsive class that served as their flag.

They were, in short, a highly successful Dynasty. So irritating them struck you as an unwise idea...

You were planning to discuss this with Jon during one of your evening meetings when Jon chose to arrive at your chambers bearing a large steel cage of his own construction and none other than-

"Good God Emperor what is that bloody thing!?" You exclaimed, yanking your laspistol from your belt and aiming it straight upon the chest of your best friend, who immediately had placed himself betwixt you and the writhing, snarling, tentacled, mawed creature from the blackest pits of the Warp. Jon sent on his sharpest looks your way and exclaimed.

"Vynn, so help me, put that away, I spent the last three days seeking to capture this fine specimen and I shall not see it lasered, sliced, mashed, spaced or set a blaze!" He wagged his finger at you, as if he was a kind of lector and you an unruly student, and you had frowned and holstered your laspistol and so, Jon had set the container down and gestured to it as if it were his newborn son. "This is none other than the so called hullghast himself - captured, at last!" He knelt down. "You see those spines? I do believe they release a paralytic...and the maw, it is quite adept for both the chewing of flesh and the sucking of vitae itself, I wonder if it is only warm blood it takes, or if it can feast on a corpse as well..." He crooned quietly. "You are quite the little terror, are you not?"

You made a face. "Don't let it out."

"Oh, certainty, not until I've defanged it and removed the toxin sacks..."

You had taken it as a joke, and you and Jon had played a wonderful piece, and you had put his loathsome habit of studying the alien (honestly, you could understand his unfortunate taste in men, even if you couldn't quite condone the idea, but aliens? Hideous things!)

Finally, on the day 425, the fifth day of the sixtieth week of the year 755, the Valiant reached the edge of the solar system and your navigatrix would finally, at last be requested to actually perform her Emperor bequeathed duty, something she was surely to resent and complain of. BUt the crew, at least, seemed to at last be content with their lives - especially the pressed men, now that they had seen how delightfully, how marvelously, how splendidly money given out by the navy spent. Each had been able to indulge in vice and sin that they never could have gotten away with on their homeworld, being voidsmen and about to leave the planet for years, if not for centuries, if not for all eternity. There was nothing quite like some absolutely consequence free debauchery to put a spring in any man's step - and now they would believe the old hands when they promised them prize money...

Oh, there was some mild simmering tensions that you read of in the reports. The Tallerns tended a certain branch of abject monotheism that put them at odds with both the Valhallans and the Cog Botherers. The latter because of the old doctrinal disagreements about the nature of the Omnisiah - was he truly the Emperor or was he merely a facet of the Emperor, and was it permitted to swear by him if one wasn't in the red, and if one did swear by him, was it a mortal sin or a venal sin? Such debates were common - but the disagreement between the Tallerns and the Valhallans had more to do with a specific doctrine involving clothing and appropriate temperatures. Or...was that a doctrinal point or a cultural point? Either way, there had been reports of brawling.

Zella wanted to have those responsible for the worst of it - Voidsman Akulina Ignatov, Irina Kuznetsov, Lev Volkov and Able Voidsmen Darya Ivanova on the Valhallan side, and Voidsmen Mikha'il Abdulrashid, Isra Saqqaf, Asim Ahmad and Able Voidmen Sa'adah Sanguhamat and Nasir Naaji on the Tallern side - given a hundred lashes each. In short, their deaths, from pain alone. Then he had added that he preferred the idea of using a groxwip. Meaning their dismemberment, likely by the fourth lash!

It would certainty put the fear of the Emperor into the men, and convince both the Tallerns and the Valhallans to be more afraid of your lash than angry at one another...

You were considering this in your offices, away from the bridge, when Isa had arrived with a simple request from one of her guests - they wanted to cut the plasma engines before entrance into the warp. "We can restart them before entering the warp - easy as can be. In fact, restarting them is the whole purpose, if we can simply divine the mathemantics of the fusion-injection, where the deuterium pellets..." seeing the expression upon your face, she had sighed. "It would be of an immense value to the Mechanicus. And entirely safe. You can review the information upon this slate." She held aloft said slate, waggling it.

You nod. "Perfectly safe? Well, I see no reason not, we cut engines when we enter orbit - you simply wish to examine it more closely. Yes, of course." You smile and Isa smile back.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you," Isa says, standing up, about to lay the slate upon the desk. "What was it that you and Governess Cortez were speaking of - after that boring dinner party? I had wanted to speak to her about her augmetics - they were quite fine, for a lay person."

"This and that," you say, airy and casual. "Though, I did happen to see, ah, she had quite a few excellent augmentations, ah, um, she had two augmetic cyberimbs...ah, a spinal port, for machine-mind interface..."

"I didn't see a spinal port on her neck," Isa says, looking thoughtful.

"Oh, she most certaintly had one," you say, remembering kissing the very thing and teasing the-

"...the only other spinal portal location is at the...base...of the spine..." Isa says, slowly, her voice growing flat. You blink, and visions of Rosella's toothsome rump vanish quite entirely.

"...well, uh, she-"

Isa shakes her head. "You absolute...you...BRUTE!" She slammed down the data slate that bore the procedure she had been speaking of down upon the desk, upsetting your inkwell, then turned and stormed from the room.

Ah.

Well.

"Blast and damnation," you say. You stand, about to head right after her, grabbing at your hat, only to find it is quite stuck. You tun - and see that Jon's hullghast is stuck to the wall of your office and is CONSUMING your HAT! Well, GUMMING at it! It has no teeth. You exclaim, grab your mono-saber, and bellow at it, and the hullghast skitters along the wall, along one of your tapestries, and into the ceiling vent, leaving behind an overt trail of slime. Your temple throbs - and the vox crackles.

"Captain, we've reached the warp point. WHere shall we auger?" Lt. Sonja asks.

QM'S NOTE: I am terribly sorry, but I must inform you of an, as of now, concealed rule of the Quest. Vynn is an excellent sailor and succeeds at essentially every action she takes aboard ship when it comes to tactics...strategy...combat...but she never makes the right decision at port. Setting into port means that Vynn will invariably do something foolish, short sighted, or fiscally unsound! Alas...

ACK! VYNN HAS MADE A MULL OF THIS! WHERE WILL SHE DIRECT HER SHIP?

[] To Caligo's Folly, direct!
[] To Caligo's Folly, by means of the Wailing Star Route
[] To the Roil, direct!
[] To the Roil, by means of the DS-9 Route

AND HOW SHALL SHE APPROACH ISA?

[] "...wait...this is an opportunity! We were not in a relationship - ergo, she would only be upset if she still had feelings towards me! I will be direct and sweep her off her feet."
[] "Oh dear. I must apologize directly, personally. I will go to the Engineerum forthwith!"
[] "...Jon has a most excellent hand and can write in High Gothic, the language of romance. I shall pen a letter to her. With his assistance."

AND THE HULLGHAST?

[] Lay in wait and laser it
[] Try to placate it with food
[] Douse your hat with grog so when it gums at it, it will at least lay down for a nap rather than scamper off.

...AND THE TROUBLEMAKERS?

[] Go with Zellas punishment
[] Lighten it slightly
[] Lighten it extremely
[] Write in

 

[veekie]

[X] Lighten it slightly
[X] Try to placate it with food
[X] "...wait...this is an opportunity! We were not in a relationship - ergo, she would only be upset if she still had feelings towards me! I will be direct and sweep her off her feet."
[X] To Caligo's Folly, by means of the Wailing Star Route

 

[silentorphan]

[x] To Caligo's Folly, direct!
[x] "Oh dear. I must apologize directly, personally. I will go to the Engineerum forthwith!"
[x] Douse your hat with grog so when it gums at it, it will at least lay down for a nap rather than scamper off.
[x] Lighten it slightly
- [x] You're willing to make it painful, perhaps to the point of incapacitation for days on end...but you don't actually want any of them dead! Or missing any body parts, for that matter!

Yeah, okay, so that last sub-vote...*shrug* Likely invalid, but I'd still rather see it there.

 

[atrophy]

[X] Lighten it slightly
[X] Try to placate it with food
[X] "...wait...this is an opportunity! We were not in a relationship - ergo, she would only be upset if she still had feelings towards me! I will be direct and sweep her off her feet."
[X] To Caligo's Folly, by means of the Wailing Star Route

 

[ancusohm]

Heh, nice to see that Vynn makes the most of her shore leave. ☺️

 

[ConfusedCanuck]

[X] Lighten it slightly
[X] Try to placate it with food
[X] "...wait...this is an opportunity! We were not in a relationship - ergo, she would only be upset if she still had feelings towards me! I will be direct and sweep her off her feet."
[X] To Caligo's Folly, by means of the Wailing Star Route

 

[Night_stalker]

[X] Lighten it slightly
[X] Try to placate it with food
[X] "...wait...this is an opportunity! We were not in a relationship - ergo, she would only be upset if she still had feelings towards me! I will be direct and sweep her off her feet."
[X] To Caligo's Folly, by means of the Wailing Star Route

 

[SweetJackal]

[X] Write in: Assign the troublemakers to Jon in alternating pairs. Replace each lash with 1 hour, and inform Jon of why they are doing community service, let Jon be Jon to torture them.
[X] Try to placate it with food
[X] "...wait...this is an opportunity! We were not in a relationship - ergo, she would only be upset if she still had feelings towards me! I will be direct and sweep her off her feet."
[X] To Caligo's Folly, by means of the Wailing Star Route

I am taking a bet that Jon in large doses is a harrowing experience, especially when he is properly motivated.

 

[samdamandias]

[X] To Caligo's Folly, direct!
[X] "...Jon has a most excellent hand and can write in High Gothic, the language of romance. I shall pen a letter to her. With his assistance."
[X] Douse your hat with grog so when it gums at it, it will at least lay down for a nap rather than scamper off.
[X] Lighten it slightly

It is time to debauch the hullghast!