41K RPG : Into the Eye

[Cynical Cat]

Harlequin. Gix's blood turned to ice. And a psyker, a combat psyker, from a race that communicated with thoughts as often as words. One which had dismissed one of his most potent attacks with greater ease than even the PsyKing had managed. And a harlequin.

Jolan Gix had weaknesses. His compassion, which helped shield him from some of the terrible powers he wielded, would cause him to suffer when the terrible dictates of necessity took hold, was sometimes believed to be a weakspot. A more accute eye would notice pride. He experimenter, a possessor of that now rare knowledge of the scientific process, a disciplined and perceptive scholar, a strong psyker, and a gifted combatant with the use of such powers. All of these things fed his ego and his arrogance. Most of the time, this was kept in check. Now it caused him to overlook the obvious, that even his warp enhanced senses had been fooled by a skillful opponent. Was Jolan Gix not the man who always saw with clear vision?

He stepped back, flinging a telekinetic force wave in front of him. Balls of white hot warp fire spat out as he gathered strength to deflect an attack he was sure would hammer his defences.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

The Harlequin saw comprehension dawn, and gave a clap and a laugh, then its 'holy visage' burst into a thousand fragments, spilling across the corridor. The creature fell, rolled, and flipped itself onto the ceiling in this holographic confusion.

It laughed again, a harsh, alien sound, "Let us past, little mon-keigh," it said, projecting its voice from elsewhere, "and we'll let you live..."

[Cynical Cat]

Jolan Gix had faced a daemon prince and fought on. He would not back down from an eldar, no matter how powerful. He had also noticed a failure to strike and his killer instinct drove him to take advantage of that, no matter how bad the odds. Searing lances of blue-white flame errupted from his hands and flashed towards the Shadowseer..

[Pcm979]

"If you didn't find a Warpgate, it's because you didn't look hard enough." Pater snarled to one of Vidor's flunkies. Power Armour locked onto hardpoints welded to his mechanical bones and neural transmitters pierced his skin.

"Guard the Eldar prisoner. They are most likely attempting an extraction." His arm and faceplate hit the deck.

"I will arrive shortly. By boarding torpedo." He cut the link.

"My Lord, why aren't you taking the Deathwatch?" Joritu asked nervously, sliding his mask over his shattered skull.

"They would die." Pater said simply. His shielded arm locked on. "Anyone would."

"At least wear your full suit." She protested as he twirled his Rune Halberd.

He laughed, for a miracle. It wasn't a nice sound. "On a Monodominant's vessel? No, he would execute me for technoheresy on the spot. Lock on to Gix's transmission and fire." He entered the pod.

He arrived in typical meladramatic fashion a minute later, launching himself out of the still-smoking pod and extending his augmented Warp sense. Give him a target, and he would teach it the meaning of pain.

[Typhonis]

Nathan knew something was up as he exited his room. The way the crew acted, the general feel of things. He left huis room and headed for where he thought Pater would be. He feltt a drain on his senses and ignored it, a pariah amongst an inquisitors retinue was nothing new.

He swore under his breath in high gothic as he passed by a white haired woman.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

Pater was lucky enough to happen onto several of the Harlequins, led by a black clad leader, who immediately drew a power sword and leaned forwards to emphasise the rictus grin of its death-mask.

The shadowseer dodged with unnatural warp-driven speed, merely being clipped by Gix's attack. The shattered holofield coughed up a glowing grenade, which bounced towards Jolan, its user ready to push the stasis grenade telekinetically if the inquisitor tried to deflect it.

[Pcm979]

Harlequins. In his worst dreams, Pater had been expecting no more than a Craftworld Killteam. He reacted swiftly, lightning shooting from his hand as his Halberd crackled with energy. He tapped one of his dormant powers, and darkness swirled around him like a cloak.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

The Solitaire lept, lightning sloughing off his serpentine body like water from a waterfowl's feathers, becoming a streak of darkness and smoke that rebounded off the ceiling, hitting the floor with an audible 'crump' behind Pater, and entering the boarding torpedo. Meanwhile, the troupe of harlequins, merely brilliant halos around indistinct figures, readied their weapons, fusion and plasma pistols coming up to shoot. They were distracted momentarily by a squad of armsmen bursting into the room, and one shifted from the seven strong unit to casually dismember the human soldiers, flickering power blade carving through flak armour with ease...

[Pcm979]

Pater knew what the circumstances demanded. He quenched his Halberd's Warpfire and drew the darkness further around himself, obfusticating himself to warpvision, conventional sight and all known sensors.

Still, he was terribly, terribly outmatched. Even one of them was easily his equal in hand to hand combat, so...

From the darkness, his arm-mounted bolter spat. He was already moving before the first shell struck, his speed warp-augmented.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

Pater was rewarded by a scream of pain from the cloud of indistinct figures, and bright bolts of plasma and hissing beams of fusion guns retaliated to the automatic fire. The harlequin disaptching the armsmen casually twisted a shotgun, held by a spasming man in the throes of death to point at where Pater had been, and impaled another on his sword.

No sound came from the Solitaire, who seemed to conclude that (with the exception of a few {now deceased} servitors) there were no more passengers aboard the torpedo. A thought-cry went out, and as one, the Harlequin troupe flipped themselves upside down, clinging to the vessel's ceiling with their flip belts, and dropped a half dozen tiny grenades, generating strange gravitational fields intended to trip a foe...

[Pcm979]

Pater's power-armoured boots mag-locked to the floor, and he rode the wave out, using his warp powers and augmetics to negate most of the disorientation. He had to take the initiative. Bolter shells spat towards the Solitaire and his powerful Telekinesis battered the Troupe with bone-shattering force.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

The Solitaire reacted with unnatural speed, his power weapon darting this way and that, deflecting or vapourising the bolts as they hammered towards him. He was terrifyingly able, and the mask he wore acted as a psychic weapon, projecting almost palpable waves of despair into Pater's mind.

Troupers were flung this way and that, and a melta-blast hit the ground by Pater's feet, before more little grenades were thrown, these designed to distrupt machines. Against lesser cybernetics, they would be destructive, but the Adraxian archeotech implants were hardened against such things, and they would be simply debilitating...

[Pcm979]

Pater's particular mix of high-powered Telekinesis and innate Machine Empathy made this a foolish move, even when he was stretching himself to repel both psychic and physical attacks. A burst of TK sent the grenades flying back to their originators, Pater tapping into deep reserves of power he'd hoped he wouldn't have to touch. Below his armour, silver lines glowed under his skin.

[Pcm979]

Nathan knew something was up as he exited his room. The way the crew acted, the general feel of things. He left huis room and headed for where he thought Pater would be. He felt a drain on his senses and ignored it, a pariah amongst an inquisitors retinue was nothing new.

He swore under his breath in high gothic as he passed by a white haired woman.

Lillith's head whipped 'round. That particular curse hadn't passed her ears in half a century. She stared at the Inquisitor as he passed.

He was easily taller than she with black hair. He wore a guards officer uniform with very few embelishments on it save for under the Aquilla eagle twin thunderbolts crossed behind a red 1.

For her part, she'd grown over a foot since they'd last met. At 5"9', it was no wonder he didn't recognise her. Her bodyglove outlined the muscles she'd built up over a lifetime of combat.

"Inquisitor?" She said almost involuntarily.

He stopped and slowly turned. An eyebrow rasied over one blue eye as he gazed at her. "May I help you sister?" He asked in a familiar accent.

Lillith was very rarely wrong-footed; When she'd met Deuce had been one. This was another; What to do when you met your former dead boss?

"Don't you recognise me?" She asked stupidly. Of course he hadn't, she berated herself a moment later. You aren't a girl anymore

"I.." he looked at her closely... his eyes narrowing. Checking her facial features. After a minute of silence he spoke. "Sister Lillith I presume or are you a descendant of hers?"

She bowed. "At your service, my Lord. It's been a very long time."

"It has." He stated returning it. "So you work for Pater these days? Good." She noted he wasn`t using his care free idiot face with her, which was what he let the others see. No this was Nathan as a hunter. "Do you know what is going on?"

It wouldn't have worked on her if he'd tried it. One of the advantages of being outside Humanity to an extent was that you grew very good at reading it.

"Lord Novum has just left for Lord Vidor's vessel." She said promptly. She examined him closely, looking for any sign of warp taint. Of course, most Daemons reeled in her prescence, so her fears were allayed somewhat. "Lord Gix just reported he was under attack by at least one Xenos Psyker, powerful."

"Wait... didn`t they have an eldar prisoner?......" Soon he started swearing once more in high gothic under his breath. " Not good....."

He looked up at her. "Should have seen this coming..... Eldar don't leave their own behind if possible... They are scared of losing soul stones so... This should have been expected."

"Lord Novum said something along those lines." She said neutrally. It was a reminder of her status; Her dampening collar was so small and innocuous it was easy to forget that she was a psychic blank.

Nathan nodedd then sighed. "And I would be a liability anyway ifr I went to help... I know I`m no match for an Eldar psychis, specially not one dedicated to their 'Laughing God'..... Hope they didn't send a solitaire, they can be ... Nasty."

He looked back at her and gave her a small half smile." So what has it been like working with Pater?"

"It has been fulfilling work." She said, locking her hands behind her back and shifting into a parade-ground rest. "First with the Daemons and then the Tyranids, there have been plenty of opportunities to use my abilities to the full." Indeed, a series of scars patterning her bare arms spoke of this- It took quite a lot to leave a permenant mark in Lillith, with her impressive regenerative abilities.

Nathan nodded. "Good.....And how have you been doing?"

Damn him, but he made her feel like a child again. For that's what she had been, fifty years previously. "I have the opportunity to strike at the Emperor's foes on a constant basis. What more do I need?" She said, falling back on standard dogma. He'd see through that at once, of course. And probably call her out on it, too.

Nathan snorted. "Yes we render service to the Emperor BUT." He said looking her in the eyes. "Is their someplace else we may talk rather than in a hallway? Someplace you would feel comfortable at?"

She hesitated. "Follow me." She said after a moment, and led him to one of the ship's practice ranges, currently deserted.

Nathan followed her quietly and quickly to the range.He then looked at her.

She automatically picked up a power sword and toyed with it in what could almost be construed nervousness. It seemed she'd developed something along the lines of emotions over the decades.

"The first lesson one must always learn Sister Lillith. We are human. If we fight demons too long we become demons or no better ourselves."

He looked at her . "So when is the limiter coming off so you can see if I am fully human or not?"

"I have learned that lesson." She said with an undercurrent he couldn't quite place.

To his question: "Am I truly that easy to read?"

"Not realy." Nathan said as he favored her with a true smile. "I was making an educated guess based on how you were acting. I just hope that he is worthy of you. Also do tell him how you feel. I welll I`m sure SHE has someone else now"

He'd utterly lost her. She never lost someone. "Pardon, sir?" She managed.

"Tell your lover how you feel about them....I made the mistake of not doing so two times...once was about 10,000 years ago. The second over 50 when my 1st body was destroyed killing a deamon prince. Just do so and your conscience will feel better. One last thing- No matter what ANYONE eelse says to you about it, you do have a soul you know. They may not be able to detect it and your abilities may put them off but you have a soul and you are human... Always remember that Lillith."

"Th-thank you, sir." She said awkwardly. In a matter of minutes, he'd pulled down every shield she had. Noone else had managed it.

Nathan looked at her smiling. "Well then I guess I had better go back to training... my physical body is still weaker than what I would like and I need to strengthen my skills and I have some things to learn so I don't cause the same problems I did a few days ago."

"Do you know how to use the systems?" She asked, glad of the change in conversation. This was something she could deal with.

"Somewhat. Though it has been a while since I have used them. I have been concentrating on my unarmed skills to build strength and stamina first."

She nodded. Prudent. Logical. This was better.

Nathan looked at her, all business." So would you kindly show me how the system works please?"

"There are two methods." She said, also in business mode. "The cogitator has a detailed and somewhat complicated system of menus; It takes some getting used to." It helped that she'd had a hand in designing it. "Alternatively, you can summon a Servo-Skull which will attend to your needs."

Nathan nodded. "So this aides in melee and ranged weapon training. How good is it from your perspective?"

"It's an extremely versatile system." She said with a touch of pride. "The Servitors and Robot Constructs can be configured to represent almost any foe, and their combat effectiveness can be scaled to match the user's."

Nathan nodded." Excellent. So what else do you have hidden in here?"

A hesitation as she contemplated how much to tell him. "A large portion of the ship is run by a subsect of the Adeptus Mechanicus, where they perform research and development on the Archaeotech."

Nathan chuckled "I meant were their any more secrets in this training gallery not in the ship."

"That is the secret, Sir. They're constantly running their inventions through here, for combat trials." She explained.

"Ahhh." Nathan nodded. “Have they managed to get the piloted dread up and running yet?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't know, sir. You'd have to ask Magos Xyng."

Nathan nodded. "Right well then I wish to thank you for your help Lillith."

"Thankyou, sir." She said, bowing again.

Nathan returned the bow once again. Before looking over the menu and studying it. "I will not keep you any longer sister . It is good seeing you again"

"And you, sir." She replaced the Power Sword on its rack and left.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

Pater's armoured leg flashed into vapour from the knee to inches above the foot as the grenades arced back to the eldar Troupers. One of the advantages of the eldar's wraithbone-centric technologies came into play, as the haywire grenades detonated, destroying deliacte control systems. Unaffected but for some slight annoyance at the failure of minor equipment, the Troupers danced through the doorway the armsmen had entered by. The Solitaire, flipping itself end over end, emerged from the torpedo, brandishing a tube of some sort, attached to its forearm.

[SirNitram]

Combat. The senses of a Space Marine knew that song even from so far away, even in a ship. The Tech-Captain grabbed his bolters and left his quarters, yanking on his helmet as he went. He had no clue the nature of the intruders, and no idea where they came from. But there was battle, and he owed Gix.

"This is Exile-Captain Malkamar. Status report, and likely location of intruders." He spoke into the mike, as he began the hunt.

[Pcm979]

Hmm. Minus one leg. Annoying. With a Harlequin Solitaire approaching him, brandishing what appeared to be a Harlequin's Kiss close combat weapon. Troubling. 'Running away' was somewhat of a physical impossibility at this point. That left only a few alternatives, most of them involving death.

He had no choice. He opened the last floodgates of his mechanically segmented mind, tapping into hidden reserves. Gathering the Warp around himself, he displaced himself in the material universe, reappearing several decks away. He immediately drew the Warp around himself again, obfusticating himself while he licked his wounds.

The sigils under his skin burned red hot, and the air was filled with an oppressive, crackling weight.

"Tech-Captain." He said, licking bloody lips. "Take a boarding torpedo to my locator beacon, and ask Joritu to give you an emergency cyberleg. Bring some meltabombs, too."

[SirNitram]

"Message received. Enroute." Malkamar replied quickly and concisely, running through the halls to collect the needed bionic and add a few more meltabombs to his collection. "All medicae personnel, prep to receive wounded." Part of his mind wasn't sure if anyone would listen to such an order, but instincts ingrained from centuries of war had taken over.

The boarding torpedo fired as quickly as possible, but it had taken precious seconds. Too many, really.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

The harlequins didn't bother attempting to find Pater, they knew that some humans could manifest teleportation abilities, and so, ran off towards their objective.

[Pcm979]

The torpedo arrived with characteristic oomph, nearly impaling Pater. He'd have to talk to the Techs about making the guidance systems a little less accurate.

"Tech-Captain." He said calmly as the hatch whirred open. "I can honestly say I've never been more pleased to see an Astartes in my life." His power armour was of a strange design, obsidian and bronze plating lending him the air of a marble statue, only somewhat spoiled by his dismemberment. He stretched out a hand and the cyberlimb flew out of Malkamar's hands, quickly configuring itself to the stump. Pater lurched upright, quashing the tremendous waves of pain as the bone was drilled into.

"We have Eldar Harlequins." He continued, swapping the clips on his Bolter. "They are most likely attempting to extract our prisoner."

[SirNitram]

With the limb now in place, Malkamar simply scanned the corridors. "Acknowledged. Can you sense the Webway connection?" He grunted. Eldar. Shoving away a momentary thought, he shook his head. "I have no combat experience against Harlequins. I will do what I can to protect you as we seek to cut them off. Just give me a direction and I'll do the bodyshield bit." A grim smile. Back into the fray.

[Pcm979]

"Negative, but there is an obvious place to look. Incompetant Monodominants." Pater stepped on the leg and winced despite himself. Luckily, he still had his helmet on.

"One deck down." He said, sighing a bit as the combat stims took the edge off the pain. "I prefer the direct route." He charged his Halberd with Warp energy and blew a hole in the floor.

[Cynical Cat]

Jolan stepped through the warp as the grenade came towards him, slipping through the currents of the warp to pop up on the other side of the Shadowseer. Frag grenades flew from Jolan's coat to cover the area as the inquisitor filled the corridor with lightning.

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

Gard Vikal, aware there was some alarm but unaware that Eldar Harlequins were heading his way, examined the captive Warlock and the torture/life support machinery she was attached to. He clucked his tongue. "Crude butchery, I'm afraid. I guess one should not be surprised from a Monodominant. Given adequate facilities, I should be able to restore you complete health. I'm sure Pater Novum has an adequate surgery and labs on his ship."

[Josh]

Prius Ristani floated in a haze of pain. The uncontrolled near-nova of psyk-energy he had unleashed on Vidor's ship had caused a great deal of systems damage.

How severe the damage was had been concealed from his fellow inquisitors, but it had been sufficiently impairing as to require emergency reconstruction and surgery.

Obviously, the system still had a great many bugs that needed working out.

He rose against the tide of pain, fighting his way back into the light. Nerriss stood nearby, dataslate in hand.

"Inquisitor Vidor's ship has been invaded and requires assistance," she informed him without preamble.

"Invaded by...?" he asked. Eldar, most likely. But no assumption was a good assumption.

"Eldar," she confirmed.

"Prepare a boarding torpedo," he ordered.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

The shadowseer, surrounded by his holographic camoflage, ran straight away from Gix. There were two reasons. Firstly, he couldn't endure much more witching-combat, (the fragments from the grenade didn't help either) and secondly, Jolan was no longer in his way.

Unfortunately for Jolan, more harlequins, led by a particularly fearsome looking individual, were waiting around the corner.

Which he was now standing next to.

Just to add insult to injury, several more (also injured, one disabled, by the frag grenades) barred his way to catch up with the seer. The technical term the Emperor would have applied to his agent's situation was 'shafted.'

Meanwhile, Gard had the opportunity to hear a pop as air was distorted by the solitaire's phase field, before the eldar stabbed him in the front of the neck with a short needle, to which there was an incongrous bell attached by a small, pink-and-white harlequin patterned ribbon.

The agent on the needle was particularly fast acting, and delivered direclty to the brain from the carotid, there was no opportunity to do anything. The eldar casually pushed the temporarily paralysed man onto his back, and set about the fairly complex task of extracting its compatriot from Vidor's apparatus.