Re: The Restless Ship - Action

[Lucan Tyrius]

Lucan is quiet, as If in deep thought, then he spoke
"I have a sense of unease... Something that is not common for me. I recommend we decide what to do quickly, as she suggests."

[Runa_Cat]

Runa looks around, her eyes allowing her to see into all but the deepest darkness(darkvision≤30m, lowlight vision≥60m), looking for anything that may harm the group. At the same time, she extends her mind out, slowly, searching for anything alive within her abilities, about 60m. (Because of her limited skill in telepathy, she can only recognize if an enemy is there, not pinpoint it's location, and bulkheads interfere with her abilities even more so, giving her only a general direction, Multiple layers further degrade her abilities, keeping her from extending fully in that direction, and creating blind spots in her telepathic sensor. Also, anyone who is purposefully hiding their presence in the Warp, such as other psykers, and low class deamons, are hidden to her at any range.)

[Falco Sanders]

All: "Alright." Falco says, drawing his carbine and cocking it. You see a blue glow fill his helmet, a map etched onto the glass visor before it flickers away. He points to the maintenance shaft that runs beside the elevator. "If we'll go up that and few a few other rooms we can get onto a main gantry and get a mag rail right to the bridge. Keep your eyes open. From all intents and purposes, this is no longer a wreck. We treat this as a space hulk. Ready? Good, let's fucking move."
Falco hurries over to the side of the door, using it as cover, peeking around behind it to make sure there's nothing there. Before beckoning you forward. The Shaft is a small area to stand in, but stretches up for miles above you, endless spiral ins stairs of punched sheet steel which drip... oil? Water? Either way it's damp and disgusting. Falco leads you up the stairs, checking the door numbers on every flight and keeping a watchful eye out for anything around. He reaches the door he wants, stops, and the crackly voice of Falco's scrambled comm comes across your feed as he opens it and steps into the darkness, torch shining into it.
"Auspex says it's clear. This is a wide room, so take positions as we move across. I'll take the front. Zielley and Inquisitor, take the middle, keep a watch on our flanks, and Lucan, take the rear, keep an eye out there. Keep an eye on your auspex too- Hold on..."

A blinking red light flickers in the darkness. Falco's torch slowly tracks onto it, and shines dim light over an ancient servitor. Its pale flesh is riddled with bullet-holes, but its mechanical components function well as a mounted stub gun swivels over to face you... and fires the distinctive clicks of an empty belt.

Muffin & Runa: You can see minor chaotic corruption on the servitor, small horns running up its head, the flesh being too eager to bond with the metallic components... It's just not right.

[Muffin Heretic]

"Heh, it's a retard Deamon." Zielley laughs, licking her finger, to test what the dampening liquid earlier was while drawing her shiv.
"This thing is a waste of Bullets."
Zielley chooses to wait, this Servitor isn't a threat as long as it doesn't come closer and she's not going to engage it unless she has to.
Instead, Zielley focuses on the rest of the room.

[Falco Sanders]

All: The servitor furiously clicks its empty weapon at you before seemingly reseting and staring blankly forward, seemingly either unaware of you or uncaring.
"Weird fucker..." Falco mumbles, checking Runa's auspex "Eh... nothing but this guy. Lets keep moving."

Zielley / All : You can determine it's water, tinged with a little bit of motor oil... It tastes foul and bitter, but it's normal. The room is huge, dark and mostly continues off for a way in front of you. before coming to a sudden stop at what appears to be some sort of platform, with a rail running above it you assume some form of transport moves along, likely helpful for moving supplies, ammunition and equipment around the ship quickly, as well as people. There is a small, seemingly deactivated control panel at the edge of the platform, a deceased engine priest slumped over it, spine torn out and flailing limply behind him, its metallic surface long corroded and blackened, though encrusted with the brown stains of blood and oil.

[Muffin Heretic]

Uncertain if this way of transportation would be any safe, Zielley first checks the Techpriest and, if she can't find anything usefull on him, props him up and into one of the transport-carts, making him look as alive as possible.
"Now this way, if there's something waiting for us, they will shoot the Techpriest first, thinking he is one of the living. ... maybe."
turning to Falco and at the same time, making sure to check on the possessed Servitor, if he's still far enough away, she adds:
"Anyone got any ideas?"

[Lucan Tyrius]

Lucan draws his Volkite pistol from a holster under his right arm
"Next time let's leave the space hulk exploration to the Space Marines..."
He seemed slightly bitter, perhaps regretting coming along

[Falco Sanders]

"Eh, your plan sounds pretty decent to me." Falco murmurs to Zielley, clambering into a transport cart and readying his carbine. Zielley see if you can't get this machine going-"

"I can see you." A voice echoes down the length of the vast chasm. "I can almost touch you..."
Lucan, you notice it's coming from speakers set into the walls high above you, all over the chamber. It is also coming across several local vox bands and cuts directly across your conversation.
"Come to me... In the bridge..." It croaks. "Speak with me... Face to... Heh... Face..."
The speakers suddenly cut to a harshly loud static that lurks in the air around you all, creating an atmosphere of unease... As if you're still being watched. You cannot see a single camera around you, but the Servitor seems to track your movements carefully.

Before you can clamber into the cart with Falco in, his carriage begins to grind its way along the rail with a shower of sparks, speeding off down the length of the ship.
"Follow your friend..." The speakers echo as a single new cart slides up to the platform.
The doors slide open. Inside, a dead Astartes sits in a pool of his own entrails, his armour torn open by some weapon... most likely power claws, based on the scratches on the armour, which itself is marked with the iconography of the Blood Angels IX Legion. Its helmet has been torn off, a vox caster crudely welded into the armour.
"Come on in..." It broadcasts with the same sinister voice you heard before.

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