Santana would rise slowly, nodding his head in thanks to the Lord Commissar's words, before listening to his questions. Turning back towards the hololith, he'd listen once more to the recordings, looking for any hints he could find within. Sadly the nuance to mortal emotions, and the meanings they could hide within their words, was beyond the Space Marine, and admittedly, he could only gain the most blatant information granted to him. As the man asked of him, Santana would respond with his own opinion.

"There is unfortunately not enough data here to make a clear declaration of what harasses this station. However, we can rule out more aggressive species, such as the Greenskins, as this has none of their sense of brutal destruction. I sense a more subtle touch here, yet the question remains, is this an attack, or an ambush."

He'd considered the man's words well, at whether or not this was false, of how the servitors had turned on their masters. Though he wished not to consider it, it reeked of foul play, of a willing participant who had access to reprogram or effectively control the servitors, a task that no doubt would require some knowledge of humanity's technology. He'd known one such foe, that would seek such infernal means to lure man to their damnation, and for the sake of those aboard, he would hope that Chaos had not begun it's machinations upon this station.

As of now, he'd simply shrug, a motion that was no small feat fully encased in his plate, before offering his thoughts.

"I believe that we should remain alert, for this has all the hallmarks of a trap. But, we are the soldiers of The Imperium, and even once sprung, we will overcome such cowardly tactics."

With that, Santana would stride towards the chamber's exit, turning to give another bow to the Lord Commissar.

"With your permission, I would take my leave, to prepare for the mission."​

He nodded as the Crimson Fist left to prepare for war. Watching the holo display of the station slowly spiral, he was temporarily lost in thought. His thoughts of a potential trap all but confirmed by Battle Brother Santana. Squeezing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger he took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before standing up straight. Brushing his uniform of wrinkles he readjusted his cap before exiting into the corridor. He made his way to the bridge in order to determine the status of the other vessel exiting the warp.

His boots made a crisp clicking sound as he marched through the corridors, crew were busy conducting there normal maintenance routines. Most avoided the Lord Commissar, with the occasional greeting of the day. The Commissar responded when addressed but mostly was lost in thought. If it were in fact an ambush or trap maybe a change to the plans would be needed to prevent further loss of Imperial life. A scowl covered his already mean look, which caused any further approaching crew to give him an extra wide berth, some going as far as to take alternative routes.

Stepping onto the bridge, "Status report!" He had no time for games. He needed the facts, and he needed them now. Sitting in his command chair he lit a fresh cigar as he watched the displays information icons, and he waited for his report. The thought that the mission plans should be changed still rattled around in his head. But that would have to wait until the station was in view and proper scans had been conducted. The plan forward was a solid one, he had faith in those under his charge to carry it out to the letter. Now all that was left was to wait.

--Aboard the damaged incoming ship--

The hulking giants in deep crimson armour jostled on the command bridge, swearing and growling furiously - their current vessel was barely alive, nearly destroyed in a battle, weapon batteries, navigational and communication systems almost dead - worse, it wasnt even their own ship, it has been captured by them after their proud cruiser was annihilated by the imperial rabble. The only solace bloodthirsting creatures found in their current situation is that imperial scum paid with their lives for such insolence. But they needed a new ship to continue bringing misery to slaves of the corpse-Emperor and soon they would have a new one.

"Captain, looks like the imperial scum prepares to open fire!" one giant snarled looking into a display - their ship was being targeted by the Sword of Orion and it demanded verification from them - with communication systems destroyed no such responce could possibly be provided. The warband's captain shifted in his immense Terminator armour and clenched his giant axe's handle - it would be tremendous shame for him to die from the enemy's ordnance from afar before his weapon tasted their blood - such fate was much worse for him than death, it was a certain way to displease his god.

"Squeeze the last power out this pathetic ship has in its engines and bring us to the enemy's starboard side!" he commanded and met questioning looks from his crew - no matter how blood-crazied warriors they were, they clearly realized potential consequences of such a decision - should they fail to bring their ship to a required position it will utterly be left without any energy and they'll have to simply drift into the void, unable to give any opposition to the imperials.

"Do it, curse you!" he roared and sheer brutality and power of his reply took its effect - the crippled ship shifted its course, changing its trajectory from a head-on attack to approaching the enemy's vessel starboard side - it didnt matter that their weapon stations were destroyed, they had much more effective ways of bringing death to their enemies.

"Blood will soon be spilled and the weaklings suffer! Prepare to board that vessel!" the warband's leader roared like a beast and raised his axe in triumph, nearly three hundred voices answered him with a thunderous bellow promising rivers of blood spilled in the name of their god.


--Aboard the Wailing Phoenix--

Storm of Silence was watching the imperial vessel's advancement closely, picking up energy markings signifying the Scourge's ship stalking nearby it like a small predator hunting a big prey. The sudden shifting of its course meant two things - the ship was still operational and it didnt certainly have peaceful intentions to the imperials it headed towards - it was a battle maneuveur, not a simple change of moving trajectory. Something needed to be done and quickly. She couldnt warn the imperials and cursed Tandreus who still did nothing - she swore mentally, realizing there was only one option remaining. Jain Zar connected to the ship's psychic matrix and sent a message to Tylarurdrenn, at the same time ordering her disciples to board Nightwings to enter the real space and be ready to disembark upon the enemy's vessel. To her frustration, this boarding party would be deployed without her - she needed to remain aboard her ship until the cursed yungir entered the Webway.

"Amasylemar (@GoreWrencha ), open fire! Destroy this ship before it reaches starboard's side of the mon-keigh's vessel!" (OOC: you dont have enough fire power to really destroy it since it's much bigger than your vessel, but you can cripple it, delaying its arrival. At the same time the imperials will have to defend the attacked ship from a shadowy assailant because they still dont know who is aboard it) @kanila @BruticusTheGoreHound @RuinaImperii @Jammysod

Victus stared out at the ship, waiting to see what happened. Five seconds... ten seconds... wait, it was moving off course to the Sword of Orion's starboard side. Victus knew only two things would come from that manoeuvre. A volley from the ship's batteries and boarding torpedos once their void shield was down and with that thought their time was up. No response. "They're moving into an attack position! Launch torpedos and target those engines! Then put all our power into the engines and send some Armsmen to the Teleportarium right now. We're boarding that ship to see what's going on in there. Keep our weapons at the ready, though." Victus knew that the ram and torpedos would do little more th an take down the other ship's void shields, allowing the Sword of Orion to send men on board to investigate and, as long as their own shields remained intact, the other ship would not be able to take such an action against the Sword of Orion. All this time and he hadn't actually noticed Rackham's return.

Sabios had two calls at the same time. He waved his hand at Carnaeren, a marine, who had accompanied him on the Tomb World, to give the report to Tandreus and explain, why he was currently not available. He could have let someone else talk to the Necrons as they could not distinguish him from his subordinates, but the negotiations could get tense, so he would rather take care of this conversation to himself.

He went down to one knee in the middle of the bridge. "I am grateful for this conversation as it is a historic moment. It is completely unheard of Necrons negotiating with anyone." *Well, I won´t mention Gehenna.* "The plan is to leave this system as soon as any eventual travel preparations are finished and meet with the other parties, which will take in this journey. We will finish our preparations in 15 minutes. If you need more time, inform us, but I cannot imagine that a race as advanced and ancient as yours would need more time than some primitives." Sabios did not change his pronunciation during the last words and fought hard to not let a grin sneak up his face. As he could no longer resist, he bowed his head to hide it.


Carnaeren walked to another screen of the bridge. He pressed some buttons and room dividers raised in the bridge. He made the sign of the Aquilla and started to give his report. "Sabios is currently occupied with our allies. We made contact and despite their lacking manners we seem to make progress. We should jump to our destination any minute. We did not achieve taking specimens as the resistance of the crazed Necrons was to big. We achieved to lure around fifty of them to the landing side, but despite the fire support of the Thunderhawk we where not able to make anything else than an emergency evacuation."
With those words he waited for Tandreus´ answer.

Tandreus was taken slightly aback and even begrudged by Sabios's refusal to answer him directly, instead "readdressing" him to another battle brother - he was Sabios's superior officer, after all, iron discipline and subordination was the backbone of the Alpha Legion's military might and he considered any break of this established order as direct violation of Lord Alpharius's doctrine - he was his damn captain and when he demanded Sabios to report he and no one else must have answered him, no matter what. That Sabios failed to bring the required specimens angered Tandreus more - he failed a crucial part of his mission. Tandreus quickly calmed himself and answered brother Carnaeren, showing no hints of disapproval or satisfaction, simply stating cold facts.

"I see, brother Carnaeren, thanks for your report. I fully understand your current situation and assume that the ongoing parley arent going to be easy, you have my moral support in this endeavour, proceed as you see fit according to the previous instructions given to you. You have 30 minutes to complete your mission and return immediately to our cruiser - I need every legionnaire at my command. Hydra Dominatus, brother!" Tandreus replied and cut comm link.

"My lord, the newly appeared ship has changed its movement trajectory, we assume it's going to attack the imperial cruiser. Your orders?" one of the bridge's crew members asked Tandreus reverently. He pondered for several seconds before giving a reply.

"Prepare the boarding vehicles and move closer to the imperial cruiser, but dont reveal our location yet - we watch until any action takes place before making any movements," Tandreus said and waved hand to his subordinate who hurried to deliver captain's orders. Now it was his time to demand something. He activated a private comm link with the Wailing Phoenix and waited until Jain Zar's mask appeared on a display - though he couldnt see her face he was almost sure she was angry and his call reached her in least appropriate time.

"What do you want, human?" she hissed.

"I'm going to launch a boarding party - it appears that a conflict will break out soon and we must be ready, are you coming with me?"

"It has already begun, you fool, my fellow ship is ordered to attack this craft and my warriors are ready to deploy. Dont impede my disciples, mon-keigh, or our next conversation will be much less pleasent than the current one. However, I expect your warriors to provide support for my forces - deploy with them once I give you necessary coordinates," she said and the comm link was cut. Tandreus snapped his fist shut when the maiden spoke the word "warriors" with the most contemptuous intonation imaginable but eventually agreed with her proposed course of action - better it would be her soldiers to bleed under enemy's fire, not his.

Santana strode through the corridors of the Sword Of Orion, as he considered the coming mission. Entering into an elevator, he'd swiftly key in the required commands to take him to the armoury level, where he'd retrieve his bolt gun, ammunition, and other equipment for the mission. He'd take a small moment to mentally scoff at the idea of having his weapons held and cared for by another being, yet, he was a guest upon this ship and he would accept their protocol. By the time the doors of the elevator opened up, Santana had run a full diagnostic on his suit of armour and it's functions, finding all systems nominal. Stepping forth, he'd move to go and retrieve his bolter, knowing that soon he would be in dire need of it. He'd also have drawn up a roster of the soldiers that would make up the primary boarding team, reviewing their files swiftly to ensure that the soldiers would be up to the task. Opening up a channel over his helmets vox, he'd notify the relevant staff of the squads that he would perform a swift inspection before the mission occurred. Files told much, but this would allow the Space Marine to get a look at the men and women he'd be fighting alongside, to get a measure of their mettle and discipline, all important factors in the time to come. These were not his battle brothers, and he'd not lived and trained alongside them for years before, no, he'd need to start cultivating a standing with these soldiers if they were to perform their mission smoothly.

With that taken care of, he'd approach the quartermaster he'd entrusted his weaponry too. Quickly being granted access, Santana would be handed his bolter, along with all the ammunition and other gear that the guardsmen had recovered with him. He'd take a moment to admire his weapon, giving thanks to the staff that had worked upon it. When last he'd seen it, the bolter had been mangled and damaged from the rubble that had entombed him and it together, and as such, it was welcome to see it repaired back to functionality once more. Giving his thanks, he'd mag lock the weapon to his thigh, place the rounds in his belt pouches, and quickly stow away the remainder of the gear. Bolt pistol, grenades, and his combat knife, these items, along with the bolter, made up the last connection Santana had to his chapter, and he'd welcome their reassuring weight like an old friend. He'd quickly push the thoughts aside however, for the time drew near, and there was still much to do.



​

"With pleasure, sister." Amalysemar responds, giving a courtesy bow at end of their transmission. The Phoenix Lord Jain Zar wants us to act as her weapon, be her instrument of destruction. They let out long breath, quivering with pleasure. What an honor. But destroying mon-keighs is cheap, quick fix. Their lives are meaningless, terminating them barely covers the effort. And the ship they are tailing is even more pathetic. Clearly it has escaped battle, it's primitive engines flickering as it adjusts it's trajectory with grace of paralyzed walrus. They won't allow themselves to descend such vulgar actions. No. They are on voyage for greatest pleasure. Plebeian temptations shall not delude them to wrong paths.

The other mon-keigh block of rusting metal is the ones Jain Zar wishes to use, be her reasoning whatever. This one is threat to them, to the point they are asked to intercept it. Does it really threat her plan so much? If it would be part of her schemes, she wouldn't had asked them to act. Her furious order betrayed her. There are larger players on the shadows, ones that shape the universe and reality itself. They themselves can't manage to wrap their head around it, the probabilities required to arrange and chance to create this single moment is beyond her mind. That is why they fear Vect. Not for his cruelty, but his ability to keep up with other players. But he has also taught that every piece holds meaning on the board and someone going around knocking the boards off from tables pisses the shit out of them. A small annoyance is still an annoyance.

"Let's remind these primates of the pecking order." Tylarurdrenn disengages from the cloud of debris that is all that remains from the station and speeds past the hulk of imperial spacecraft. Where previously stood dark shadow, now remains only more debris floating in gravitational wake of the massive ship. While there is still vast void between the two imperial ships, it is nothing for the Corsair Escort, it's Unhur resonant cavity thrusters passing the distance in moments. Tylarurdrenn, engulfed in the shadowfield, circles around Sword of Orion as to mock their scanners before approaching them from the rear, directly parallel to it's engines. At the edge of their inferior void shields, it opens it's torpedo tubes and launches swarm of leech torpedoes in the exhaust of the plasma drives. Direct contact to the ionized particle stream would destroy even Eldars advanced torpedoes, but surfing on the outskirts, mon-keighs primitive scanners have no hope to distinguishing them from the radiation. Once the torpedoes lodge into the bulk, they will leech Sword of Orion of it's power, leaving it completely helpless. As they should feel before the Eldar.

Cloud of debris keeps following the khornate-filled hulk.

A slight rumbling could be felt on the Sword of Orion as a volley of torpedos was loosed at the unknown ship, impacting against the ship a few seconds later. Though they appeared to miss their target of the engines the mid-section of the ship was engulfed in a massive explosion, blowing a large chunk of it clear and sending debris hurtling out into the void. At this moment Victus turned and finally took notice of Rackham's return.

"Ah, Commissar, it's good to see you have retur--" He's cut off by another, ever so slight rumble followed by a number of warnings on all the bridge's consoles. Something had started draining their power. The main thrusters were quickly losing their power but they were still on course to ram the other ship roughly where the torpedos impacted. After a mere moment of astonished silence, Victus looked back to the Lord Commissar. "Well that is certainly... problematic... luckily I do have a plan of sorts forming already. If I may, Commissar?" He stood there, waiting for Rackham's approval for him to give the order as they continued toward the other ship.

At first, Okantakht had listened closely, but as of the middle of the humans speech, his head was slowly turning sideways, and his right hand gradually creeping closer towards his face, until, after Sabios had stopped talking, his fingertips met his forehead with an audible *click*.
Looking towards the Phaeron on his left, he fully expected Nurrahk to just stand up and leave. Akhenhotep may have felt obligated, but there was nothing holding the Phaeron back. He noticed Ibinaten was already at the door to escort Nurrahk if needed.
Ahthor was staring so hard at him that it almost would be considered rude, pleading for the Phaeron to allow him to if not to annihilate, the at least reprimad the ape appropiatly. Okantakht just nodded silently, staring somewhere far, far away......
The gold-faced Necron turned abruptly, staring at the image in front of him, and then started talking with fast, metallic words:

"It is true that we are far more advanced than you, and older than you could even begin to imagine, the only reason that you and your crew are still not obliterated into your atoms after your ignorant speech is the unparalleled patience of the Black Light."

Or, more likely, the necron equivalent of depression Okantakht vaguely remembered after wasting his time.

"Now let this one explain to you how an existence of at least marginal intelligence structures the thing you called a "parley". At first you exchange a greeting and acknowledge the infinite distance in standing and intelligence between you and the Phaeron, but this would be too much for you to understand, so this one will skip it this time. Then you propose the content of the agreement you seek to reach, containing:
1. The gift you seek to give, followed by a closer description containing use if not self-explanatory
2. The help you plead for in exchange, again followed by a closer description of its nature , the cincumstances and other involved parties. After this you wait for any questions that the opossites may have and answer all of them to their satisfaction. And if, IF the opposite then agrees to your proposel you can clarify the next step moving on to action.
Now that you have hopefully at least memorized the main aspects, you will be given One Last Chance to propose your parley without being wiped from existance."

Okantakht suddenly remembered a small Goblin called Idyut, that ,a long time ago, commanded him to kill a rival of his in exchange for "shiny thingz" when the Phaeron came to cleanse a tomb world from greenskins.
He wondered why.