Fortissimus sat on a chair in his room, unsure of what to do with the hour of free time he found himself with. The luxury of his room, being around those whom he would have been cutting down on the field of battle barely a year ago, even the very concept of having time to himself, all of it was still very new to the Astartes. He had spent the best part of almost four centuries constantly around those he once called "brother", setting the standard of what it meant to be an honourable warrior and now he was here, sitting in a luxurious room looking upon yet another warzone. Only this time he was to be among those attacking the very same Imperium he spent so long serving, quite the change, he thought to himself.

The Astartes took a while simply looking around his accommodation, the fine furniture and generally rich appearance of the room were obviously not the kind of thing everyone would expect to find themselves provided with under similar circumstances and the fact that the very chair he was sitting on hadn't simply collapsed under his bulk made it clear that the place was furnished with a Space Marine in mind, even one still in their armour such as himself. Such things made it clear how much power and wealth the leader of Vindicators had at their disposal... whoever they were.

Eventually Fortissimus could take the monotony of just sitting around no longer and took it upon himself to start heading for the bridge of the Sun's Fury, his power sword hanging by his side in a heavy looking leather scabbard and his shield already strapped onto his arm. His armour, still bearing the colours of his former Chapter rather predictably attracted some odd looks as he made his way towards the bridge. He knew that he would probably arrive a little early but that didn't matter, anything was better to him than just sitting in his room with nothing to do at this point, at least if he went early he might meet someone to pass the time with idle small talk on the way. Anything to put an end to this damnable waiting.

Therena was within her room currently remaining tucked up in bed. Needless to say, she was still sure there had been some sort of mistake. Sure, she had been doing her stuff as a raider for a few years now but she sure as heck wasn't expecting.... This. All she was expecting was to move ship thanks to a talent hunter recruiting her, not ending up here, upon a ship bound for the Vindicators.

Sure, she was also curled up in bed thanks to a horrible night's sleep (one of the many down sides of being a Psyker) but considering the note gave her an hour before she actually had to go somewhere. So Vastra got out of bed and took a quick bath even if she had been distracted by a mirror and looking upon herself try a few things for fun, considering that she wasn't exactly sure that others would enjoy her preferred manner of passing time.

After she was finished with cleaning up, Therena then threw on her best set of clothes (as while tempting, she doubted she'd make a good first impression by turning up in no attire what-so-ever) which was a white and purple one-piece that was both tight fitting upon her body and asymmetrical in cut, with the right side of her mid-riff exposed. She then bound her hair up, and decided to go check on her gear given how it was a problem child at times.

Sure, it was hard work keeping those pieces of machinery in working order, considering how finicky they got and how she'd have to scrape for someone technically minded to fix it if she really broke it... But having such weaponry and armour was a good investment, considering that her other gear was utter crap compared to what she managed to get. She'd even managed to dye the fabric of the Warplate to a shade of purple better befitting the Prince of Pleasure, rather than the frankly boring red it had originally came in.

Still, the waiting was boring but frankly the Psyker couldn't care less considering she had that time to enjoy the luxuries of her quarters and perhaps a little lone worship for her patron deity until it was time for her to visit the bridge and see what was going on.

@TuskatheDaemonKilla
As the Techpriest and its 'son' made its way to the exit, one of the two Guards straightened themselves and spoke out.
"Do you need assistance?" He asked, more out of a sense of duty than any honest politeness; at least they weren't as insufferably

@Vulpas - the room itself was, fortunately, not bugged in the least. It was indeed a private room, however temporary or permanent it would be. In fact, none of the rooms would have any form of surveillance on the inside; outside of the doors however in the hallway, were voxbeads and cameras to keep an eye upon them; in a Society like that which Chaos breeds, paranoia and wariness is expected, and the two Astartes guards were just one example of it.

@High_Adept_Zeth @Jammysod
Their way to the bridge was one that was relatively swift - through the door to another set of hallways, seeing dozens of different normal mortals going about their business as Shipmen(and women!), before taking a right to a set of stairs, made large enough for Astartes boots, and then through a set of bulkheads.

As they entered the Bridge, they found that the room itself was quite large, most certainly more Imperial in design; perhaps being a recently stolen Frigate. The name itself seemed far more fitting of the Corpse-worshippers' monikers rather than a wrathful one that Chaos may use, after all.
If anything, they actually made their way in by the 'front' og the bridge and out of the middle of the room. Perhaps as a form of security, making it more of a deathtrap for any intruders, able to be fired on from all sides and having no form of cover.

All around them were numerous crewmen working at screens and murmuring to one another of coordinates and other babbling, whilst what appeared to be Rubric Marines, a total of a dozen, all stood silently on guard. In the 'back' of the room stood what appeared to be a Navigator, his skin marred in numerous scars that formed peculiar runes on what skin was revealed, the rest of his form hidden by a heavy robe, the hood covering his face. Quiet babbling was coming from him as he held onto the sides of his chair.
If anything, he certainly was at odds with the visions of the Warp.

However, the Captain in question was most noticable, a tall woman with a tidied, mahogany-red uniform coloured with her right sleeve in the yellow&Black pattern of the Iron Warriors; almost as a sign of loyalty and respect.
Her face was angled slightly and scarred, having numerous cuts upon the right side of her face and a burn across the lower jawline. Her black hair was tidily tied up into a ponytail as well. Her skin was, for someone who was upon a bridge with a clear view of the outside through reinforced glass, surprisingly pale.

Her gaze turned to look at the duo that entered and her back straightened itself, her right arm - a bionic replacement - resting at the power sword upon her hip as she walked down from her seat, and nodded to them.
"Greetings. I am Captain Laurana Schmidt. You are those who were given privileged access, yes? Those who were asked by the Emissary to meet here in an hour?" She asked. Her voice was only mildly masculine, though more in a manner of the hoarseness than any deepness to it; someone who undoubtedly barked out orders rather often.
Judging by her squint, it was clear she was expecting a response rather immediately.

Some of Konstantin's mechanical eyes looked up from his data slates to see the guards and a synthesized voice came from a nonexistent mouth. "No I require nothing at the moment." He said plainly with his voice lacking emotion granted that was more out of it's synthetic nature than his choice. He was glad these rouges had the decency to be offering help even though he didn't need it. It was then he noticed another person entering the hallway with a notably metallic foot step. Curious he turned his head around to see a woman who had just exited her own room. Curious still her legs were clearly mechanical having the weak flesh removed and replaced by tireless metal. He brought several of his mechanical eyes to focus on her.

@Vulpas
"Why hello there." He said before approaching her using several mechadendrites to move rather than his normal limbs making him appear much larger than he actually was. Brutus followed close behind with obedience as his father closed the distance between himself and the woman. He stopped at what he thought was the appropriate distance for conversation and examination. "Your enchantments are interesting, would you mind telling me how you acquired them?" He asked as several of his eyes continue looking at the woman's metallic legs trying to suck up as much information as possible.

Being inducted into the next step of the forced evolutionary process, Astartes, by a Flawless Host Apothecaries always left something to be desired, despite their vaunted name.The cases differed based on each individual, but all of them shared one unique flaw - chemical treatments that were vital in forming and continued function of Space Marines.

Lanius was never an Apothecary, for he had no taste in butchers work, but from what he knew, becoming a transhuman one must forego constant chemical treatments, especially during the initiation.Sadly within the Flawless Host, discipline was never a stronger side and constant ingestion of various chemicals and psychoactive drugs in their never-ending search for perfection and sensual excess, left a mark in the said process.For The Silver Baron, he was left with unbalanced metabolism leaving him craving for flesh sometimes, sweating like a Nurglite swine, or various others abnormalities.

However he understood this as a mere test of his dedication on his rather self-focused journey and by carefully balancing the drug-injecting machines within his battle-plate as well as ingestion of various exotic poisons, left him in various states of exhilaration or psychotic,agonizing ecstasies.
Merely alchemical guidelines that dripped from the Satin Throne.

And today was a bad day.

Introduced to the bridge, by dour guards, Lanius had his eyesight at moments distorted, his skin sensitivity heightened in which the slightest movement of his power-armor against the flesh-sockets produced rather sensual feelings of jerking and vibration.Even his smell heightened, until he was drowning in sweat and hormonal excrament of the bridge crew.It was both suffocating and exhilarating.

Only the blue-clad guards did not produce any kind of smell.He heard of them, and they sickened him.As well as the deathtrap he got lured into.But the road to the Satin Throne was thorny, and he never minds a little pain.

As he neared the command throne of the bridge, he spared no attentions to the toiling mortals.Oh...how must they long for it!
However, one individual was indeed worthy his attention, and her looks and her smell had his interest piquet.

Despite that, she looked rather bland and an outsider to the deeper pleasures would say even...boring!Even her tidied up clothes and tied up hair spoke so.
Was this the result of her current position?It must be so!The rather plain,soldiery attire was painted in colors worn by the dour guards outside.That particular detail somehow disappointed him...and then and there, this woman, this pathetic mortal broke his heart.

"Greetings. I am Captain Laurana Schmidt. You are those who were given privileged access, yes? Those who were asked by the Emissary to meet here in an hour?" She asked.Her voice was only mildly masculine, though more in a manner of the hoarseness than any deepness to it; someone who undoubtedly barked out orders rather often.
Judging by her squint, it was clear she was expecting a response rather immediately.

Not showing how deeply she has wounded him, Lanius smiled, for she was a rare sight to him.Long was it since, a mortal stood before him, especially her - the very image of a systematic and thorough person - with a demand on her lips.
For a moment, he mused for how deeply was he bored to be amused and affected by such things.

Clading himself in a tranquility of body, despite his rather extreme condition, he bowed so gently before her, with a soft incline of his head.For a moment, there would be no doubt that he was indeed noble and of royal blood.Who else would have such manners?

His right arm appearing from under his flourishing,rune-embossed cape extended before him with grace and moved infront of him,encompasing his person.

"Yes, Captain Laurana Scmidt.Lanius is the name I carry, and I have heard the summons.How may I serve?"spoke with soft and velvety voice the pale transhuman, clad in most unlikely of humility, his face of startling,serene almost dreamlike features.

He could smell her from where he stood, even among the reek of the bridge.Her hormonal balance was a mere reflection of her exterior.Balanced, stoic, uniformed.
Let`s see if I can change that.Lets see if I can take of that solidery mask in which they dressed you with.

Uneasy. If one word could accurately sum up how Fortissimus felt as he entered the bridge of the Sun's Fury it would be uneasy. So much so that he found his hand moving to rest upon the pommel of his sword, ready for the possibility that something might happen. He quite rightly saw his personal unease as a perfectly understandable feeling considering that he currently stood in the middle of a not so lovely little kill zone complete with a few Rubrics standing guard around the room. The only one in the room who did anything to alleviate his discomfort regarding his situation was the Astartes he entered the room just after, this "Lanius" as he called himself with his soft voice and (at least to Fortissimus) rather overly ornate cape briefly took his mind off the fact he was standing in the middle of a kill zone if for no other reason than Fortissimus felt smug about the fact he was taller rather than his seemingly being completely unfazed by where they were.

Fortissimus waited for a second to see if Lanius would continue speaking before stepping forward himself andany outward signs of just how uncomfortable he felt hidden by his helm as he greeted the captain with simple, but nonetheless respectful nod before speaking.

"Aye, that I am. Fortissimus is my name. I do hope I haven't inconvenienced you by arriving early, Captain but I found the idea of simply staying in my quarters and passing the time to be terribly dull. So how can I assist you?" Though Fortissimus did not enjoy being in his current position the confidence with which he spoke was far from feigned, he was a Space Marine, one the greatest warriors in the Galaxy and it would take a lot more than this to shake his confidence that much.

Sareth was in the middle of haul as she heard the hertek and what seemed to be a robot that seemed to following him behind came up behind her. Oddly enough the Hertek seemed to be more interested in her legs then her he also seemed to be trying to make himself taller then her.

While she took many of these signs to be red flags and kept herself on guard she made note to remember the creepy duo, While not reacting violently or more hostilely due to knowing a bit about tech priest and herteks remembering them both being technophiles likely had more of a interested in her bionics then her and her flesh parts.

Looking to the robed figure she gave a somewhat sharp toothed smile, putting a hand in her semi grey hair she began to speak, "Well now how I got these bionics is quite a story and since I have started drinking today I likely can tell you how I got these legs," Sarath said as one of the joints at her knee began moving she began trying to make herself just as tall as the hertek,

"Got these legs here when the Inquisition decided it might be a good idea to experiment with bionics on people and possible people they wanted to get rid of or thought would be good test subjects, Not a fun process might I add when you one day are betrayed by a bunch of people your working for after battle then taken in a cell experimented on and get your legs chopped off with bionics you cant feel like your normal legs and have a bomb strapped to your neck," Moving her talon like feet in her boots it made clank sound as she let each one tap the bottom of her boots as she continued her story.

"While being canon fodder and meat shields for a inqusitor I caught a lucky break one day and got hit by something that didn't kill me and instead screwed up the bomb around my neck and a few of my guns and my legs for a short time, Narrowly avoided being killed after though got away from those spooks, After that and a reaching freedom with a few others I began serving some pirates for a while and began buying gear and I got these Enhancements from a few herteks working in flesh shaping and enhancements." She pointed to her arms wondering if he was scanning those as well bit stronger now because of it. Enhancements with the legs while have some upsides like Being able to move faster and in weirder and different ways, It has some downsides like the feelers or sensors in them either don't work or whoever installed thought it was a good idea that the person cant feel there legs." Sarath added answering what she thought the herteks questions.

"So did you have anythink else to ask besides stare at my legs?" Sarath asked

The woman barely so much as raised her brow at their offers of help, shrugging her shoulders oh-so briefly and turning to sit herself back down, her legs crossed on her throne.
"Believe it or not, it was not I who had called you here; one of our Lord's sorcerers is the one who had. He should be coming soon, merely needing to tend to some personal business in the Lower Quarters amongst the other rabble that was brought along with you." She explained with a mild drawl. "This ship may end up scouting out the planets that our Lord has planned; however for now, you may remain here. If you do wish to know, however, I'm more worried as to what may occur with the unrest from the other Chaos Lords that were brought along. They all are here to pledge their loyalty to to us, but~..."

The Captain shifted in her seat, the dozens of crewmen all getting uneasy at the topic; they all too, men and women, knew that it may be difficult to deal with their angers.
"Black Legion, Word Bearers, any warbands that heard the call, which are many. It's not going at the scale of what the despicable, Abaddon may be wishing for," She said with a very clear sense of disdain for the name. "But we aim for efficiency. And self, sufficiency.We know that this will attract the ire of the Astartes, and that is what my crew, and that of a handful of other ships, are counting on; one chapter at a time, and we'll be rid of their arrogance."

@GobMaw_HellSmasha -- The large adamantium crate upon which he was set in soon, suddenly, started to groan in protest as it was dragged along the floor. The halls themselves were large, and it wasn't too long before it would move past the Techpriest and the Cultist (@TuskatheDaemonKilla & @Vulpas ), the twin guards at the door moving to the side to allow it entry.
A slow, long 'journey' was taken towards the Bridge, eventually even being brought to the stairs themselves where two pairs of Rubrics marched past the two speaking to Laurana, from where they helped in pushing the gargantuan box up into the room.
From here, it was where one could get a comparison as to the size of the Bridge; even with a massive crate big enough to house a Helbrute, there was still enough room that it was practically the size of a sports field, all littered with Servitors and computer screens, babbling amongst some of the technicians & navigators (not the psychic sort).

When the Crate itself had finally been brought in and set in the 'center' of the room, with a single 'viewport' having opened up. The seals and psychic sigils placed upon the Box would keep the Nurglite diseases from exiting, having been made primarily for the Helbrute within to both see and hear the outside of it without causing harm to all else.

@Maleth - It wasn't too long before a crewwoman was sent in to check upon her; a simple 'Guardsman' of sorts. Uniformed, flak armour, lasgun, so forth. The door itself was given a knock, and she waited for a response before entering.

@TuskatheDaemonKilla @Vulpas @High_Adept_Zeth @Jammysod @dx144 @Casavay @BruticusTheGoreHound @Azathoth @Colapse
The vox systems that littered the frigate clicked on, the sound of a strong yet hoarse voice coming through.

"Brothers and Sisters, the time has come; we are nearing Krexis Capital, and soon shall land. We shall then make our way to the Venejian Sector, from where we shall start our Righteous War against the Imperium of Man; we shall gain their power, their resources and their cities, casting aside the disgusting worship of the Corpse-Emperor. We shall enlighten them upon the true Freedom."
"Freedom from the Tyranny of the High Lords, from the hand of the Astartes and Imperial Navy. Freedom from their egotistical Ecclesiarchy, and most of all, Freedom from the gaze of the Corpse-Emperor. His STC's and the Forgeworld shall be ours, and with it, food to rekindle our armies and metal to reinforce our hulls, power cells to recharge our weapons, and fuel to empower our war machines."

"Rejoice, for our Lord shall show us the way into the Imperium, and ravage a scar so deep within reality that the stars shall dim and the seas shall run red. Our days of suffering at their hands, the loss of friends and loved ones, shall one day be over; and until then we shall continue fighting the tyrants; we shall slaughter every blasted one of the Loyalists until none remain standing.

"Iron Within, Iron Without."


Even through muffled doors and long corridors many levels down, one could hear the cheering of thousands if not tens of thousands of crewmembers cheering; though those within the Bridge did little more than clap and talk jovially to one another for a few moments before going back to their duties.
The numerous ships that were seen within the Bridge's reinforced glassports seemed to primarily be fighters and heavy fighters; it was almost clear as though this was designated as some form of flagship, or at least important enough to need such a heavy escort.

The planet in view was a luscious one; a Temperate world with large forests and cities alike. Large oceans covered the world with a single island set in the middle of it, large enough to be considered a continent in its own right; while it was littered with great, such an island was clearly in fact a gargantuan city, perhaps thousands of kilometers across its shortest.
There seemed to be a set of three moons orbiting the world as well, and while not exactly detailed from such a distance away, they appeared to be bases in their own right, perhaps as literal orbital defense platforms.

The island-city itself seemed to be the destination of the 'Sun's Fury', its engines - that loud yet extremely muffled humming in the distant background dying down as they neared the world, the frigate tilting up a matter of ten or fifteen degrees to slow its descent. A faint 'jerk' at everyone's stomachs was felt as it did so. Not quite painful or uncomfortable, but more akin to how an elevator might do so.


Captain Schmidt jerked a bit in her seat as the ship tilted, eventually eliciting a sigh and tapping a control in her throne; activating the Vox again, though this time only to the 'Chosen' (the Players) in their rooms.
"This is Captain Laurana Schmidt; the one who has asked for your presence will be here shortly. If you wish to explore the ship, the Elevator set in the central corridor in front of the Bridge is able to send you down to certain floors, until you are given clearance on-the-ground. The Mess Hall and Observation Lounges, being one of them. You may also check the Armoury and Medbay, if needs anything may be required before we land. You have forty minutes until you are required on the Bridge."

To say that the sudden announcement bursting through the ship had startled Kooru, would be an understatement, as the man's head would snap up, a sickle drawn from his hip. Looking about the room, his eyes wide and wary behind his mask, the being would finally locate the source of the noise, and would allow himself a sigh of relief. Reminding himself of the strange technologies these warriors from the stars possessed, for no such means of communication he'd seen back in his old life, he'd be comforted that the whispers in the back of his mind had not gotten quite so loud yet. The boasts of conquest, glory, and vengeance upon The Imperium would die down, followed by the words of another, not quite as intense in their speaking, and seemingly addressing those like Kooru in particular. His head would tilt to the side, as he considered the possibility of exploration, before noticing a shaking in his hands, a sign he'd always viewed as building anticipation. Calming his nerves, to fend off the trembling, he'd turn his attention to his weaponry set up on the floor before him.

The assault shotgun would be a welcomed sight, it's worn grip, notches upon it's barrel, and almost smokey scent something the man had grown accustomed to on his travels. Yet, looking to a pile of ammunition he'd set aside, he'd notice his count of slugs was running a tad short, and that he should probably stock up. The farmer hadn't really been much of a learned man in his previous life, so schooling hadn't been exactly top of his priorities, as he really only existed to harvest his crop. As it was, he was sure that while two groups of a hundred slugs was a lot, he was pretty sure there would be even more targets, and that he should probably get some more before long. In addition, he'd brought a few grenades, nice exploding things he enjoyed, and wanted to see if he could maybe get a few more.

With that, he'd quickly scoop up his items, stowing shells in his pockets, sliding his knife into a sheath on his ankle, putting each sickle on his hips, and strapping the assault shotgun onto his back. Checking about the room, he'd quickly grab a pillow from his bed, stuffing it within his rucksack, deciding that hey, sometimes it was nice to have some comforts. Having prepared himself, he'd stride towards his door, listening to it open with a hiss, before entering into the hallways, and beginning to make his way towards the armoury.

Walking through the corridors of the ship, Kooru would be witness to the full majesty of the Vindicator's might on display. The vessel was populated with the ranks of their forces, from the strange menials moving about the halls, to the towering warriors of the fallen Astartes themselves, seeming to monitor various areas. The ship itself seemed to be one of war, it's intent and design more than clear, marking it as a weapon once wielded in the name of The Emperor, and now modified to serve it's new purpose. All this arrayed before him, and Kooru would pay it no mind, for his own thoughts would be occupied with thoughts as simple as, "I wonder what kind of food they serve here", and the all important, "There has to be a better way to get this tendon meat unstuck from my teeth". He'd walk right by those that passed him in the hallways, his gaze set straight, until he reached what he assumed was the elevator.

The doors to the chamber would open, as a few servitors seemingly skittered by on their own personal missions, letting Kooru walk within. Looking about the small compartment, the man's gaze would eventually fall to the series of buttons, a small listing of levels and other information detailing what lay upon them. His eyes would brush past the various destination he could reach, armoury, mess hall, observation lounges, before coming to a single conclusion.

He really needed to learn how to read.

As the doors to the elevator closed, trapping him within, Kooru would feel slight panic rushing through his system, as he raised a hand, finger hovering above one button. He'd struggle to make out the strange lines before him, attempting to scare them into giving up their knowledge through sheer force of will, his hand once again beginning to shake. As he stood there, mind focused, he'd eventually know defeat, his frame slightly deflating, as he pondered what to do. Taking a mere minute, he'd come to a singular conclusion, knowing that this would see him to the armoury.

Without a second thought, he'd press all of the buttons, beginning the cycle of moving from floor to floor. He knew, that if he hit all of them, that eventually, he'd reach the one he sought, and all he needed to do now, was wait. Taking a seat upon the compartment floor, Kooru would rest with his back against the wall, pulling a small hunk of meat from his pocket, before digging in. Getting comfortable, he'd prepare himself for the full ride, no matter how long it took.

Stakh's ears had perked up when the booming voice shook the very foundation of her room. She was aware of the concept of vox, but the volume had left an unpleasant ringing in her ear that machine noises and the brays of a herd wouldn't. Sitting on 'her' bed tailor-style while she applied her tools to her fake arm with surprising skill for a Beastman, occasionally wincing as she manipulated something that was too closely wedded to the fleshy parts of her elbow, Steel-Shaman slowly nodded to herself in approval. High Lords, Astartes, Ecclesiarchy; that all meant nothing to her, they were just odd human words. "STCs" and "Forgeworlds" sounded like loot worthy of a Crusade, and loot was always a good thing. But Corpse-Emperor, the Imperium... promises of freedom from the tyranny and a decisive strike against the false God - these resonated with Stakh. To destroy the Imperium was the core of her very being, the mission that had consumed most of her personality, a transformation that she had gladly embraced.

In a mildly phrased way, it gave her a sense of confirmation - this was where the Dark Gods wanted her to be. She clenched her mechanical hand, and made its clawed fingers dance. They responded perfectly - fluently, quickly, as they should. With this checkup done, the Beastman stroked her scarf gently, the tough Gor leather resisting her iron claws easily. Since the woman's vox voice mentioned that Stakh's summons was to be due soon, she gathered her things to prepare for leaving and put on her armour, securing her prized axe within its sheath on her lower back (right next to the stub revolver) and casually slinging that banged-up, but trusty lascarbine over her shoulder. In Beastmen society, 'dressing up' meant 'coming in your biggest, meanest armour and with as many weapons as you can carry'. Because she didn't really trust anyone with her tools - not even an empty room - they and their bag soon were also taken along.

And so, she basically took all of her belongings onto the bridge.

To those who would listen, the sound of hooves slowly yet rhythmically banging against a metal floor as she moved into the room, looking around carefully. "I am Stakh, Steel-Shaman", the Gave loudly announced. With pride, she added "Bestigor of Ghurog. Tamer of the machine. Warrior of the Dark Gods!".

She was smart enough to know that she wasn't the only one with credencials here, of course. But it was polite to introduce oneself, wasn't it?