The Rainwalkers

Arrival at Sheol XVII-834.M41-0128
Tenuous Infiltration of System. Crew injured from crash.

Several months of warp travel later, we arrived in the system of Sheol XVII. Upon arrival we were greeted by two potentially hostile patrol ships for the penal colony on this world. Our attempts to convince them our intentions were noble (and sanctioned) failed and we were told to depart before negotiations became hostile.

Furious Irritation

However thanks to the quick thinking of our newfound explorator mechanic, we were able to convince them to come aboard our ship and investigate further (Doze is an exceptional actor, highly dedicated to the cause). We convinced them he was a dangerous fugitive responsible for actions at Gunpoint, and that we were personally responsible for his delivery to the penal colony. They agreed to escort us to the planet.

Stunned disbelief

We sent him with their guards and our own chosen military personnel. We then utilized one of our shuttles and attempted a discrete and prompt trip to planet fall. Unfortunately, our shuttle took our pilot far to literally and we impacted the surface in a fashion unsuitable for either my previous adjectives.

Tremendous fear. Significant discomfort

Emir and I were able to fling ourselves from the ship before full impact, and roused the others (Nyx stubbornly refused to awaken) before we unexpectedly were met by our wayward explorator who had miraculously obtained a second shuttle. After I gently convinced the pilot to become our (temporary) guide and comrade, we traversed the surface to the predetermined coordinates to complete our mission.

Growing relief. Curious apprehension

After a brief time of searching, we were approached by an individual who seemed to know our intentions. He scaled down the side of the crater and told us simply it was time to leave.

This I can agree with.

Tasks and Priorities:

1) Apply subterfuge and stealth to any further combat situations (training still in order)
2) Commend military oriented comrade for his role in distracting curious parties (and inquire about accolades/impeccable dress)
3) Speak to our pilots about speed vs safely in future descents to planet side
4) Commend explorator on resourcefulness (and inquire about acting lessons)
5) Leave the surface of this planet with both new acquaintances in tow
6) Remind our friend of his new name (remind Zarko as well)
7) Depart system immediately. Destroy any obstacles

Further notes:

Although our warp travels took more time than expected, our journey was otherwise without incident. Our navigator and pilots are of pristine quality, and we have much to be grateful for to have them. Emir is anxious to put this ship and it’s crew in order, as well as to make our dynasty grow. However, it may be that his enthusiasm is mixed with some paranoia, as he nearly alienated our first mate. Though I cannot shake the feeling that his caution is not wholly unwarranted. If not the first mate, there is certainly someone involved here who does not share our interests, and this ship may quickly turn into a deathtrap. I shall investigate further. For now, my elation knows no bounds as we are finally capable of acquiring true profit and prestige. It shall only be a matter of time.

Vengence ad patrem,

Sigmund.

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Sheol, dead-drops, and blows to the back of the head: 834M41-0128

I’ll have to remind Havoc to get a cleaning crew to sweep this deck again.
This cold steel floor is quite filthy.

Then again, I didn’t expect to be rubbing my face in it. Karma has once again shown me what happens if I let my guard down for any period of time.

Karma; what a hilarious joke. I’ll have to tell Sigmund that one.

Either way, its very fortuitous that two things occurred prior to my negotiations with the floor of the command deck:

1] I had a great chat with our resident Exmilitant regarding exactly half of my tale; his personal convictions are both neurotic and exemplary. The more I converse with him the more I like his character. I will enjoy our exploits a great deal later.

2] On my way down I noticed Sigmund nod understandingly; clearly his wits are as sharp as the day we met: and I knew what he meant. Otherwise it would only have taken a word and our resident skull-collector’s sternum would have been filled with projectiles

Alas, as quick as my anger was to rise as my body were to fall, the plan ended up working fairly well given the circumstances. Our Mechanicus has reminded me that while patience is a virtue, it sometimes is not the best path. And if its one thing I can count on is that I learn far more from awry misgivings than I do well laid plans. I’ll have to find more skulls for him later; he has earned a form of payment, but not my trust.

Meanwhile later we managed to arrive planetside without engaging a blockade; our Kriegsman escorted our our now-resident “prisoner” into the processing segment of the fortress, our Voidmasters almost killed us as Sigmund and I vaulted out from the back of our small craft, and Nyx was knocked and thrown around like a marionette with its strings cut.

All ends justify all means; and now we are trudging through these barren wastelands and snowbanks to welcome yet another drifter aboard my ship.

What joy.

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::Titansbane Navigator Audio Log::

:Entry I:

Our captors were too unsure, too distracted, too disorganized. Although I suppose one can’t properly prepare for a ground assault from a cruiser. Chaos. Kayp said the entire dock was destroyed by the turrets.

It seems that the frantic (and very much dead) man from the surface seems to be the only one who knew any details about our destination or goal. Convenient, Sigmund said later. Emir has been less than discreet with his distrust of the crew and mission.

Three weeks to a “safe” warp point on the outer rim of the system. Should be about 10 days in warp after that, if my calculations are correct.

:Entry II:

We ended up off course by over a month. Less than optimal. I was expecting a lecture, but Emir seems wholly distracted with keeping tabs on the ship’s crew. He suspects a trap, and I can’t say I disagree.

I’ve been spending more time with Kayp on the command deck. He’s been helping me with my star maps, and says he’s developing a doorway alarm system on the ship for my benefit. It’s wildly unnecessary, and I told him as such, but it seems like he won’t be deterred. I should be offended, or at least irritated, but it’s nice to be looked after.

:Entry III:

We were hailed outside orbit of Sheol XVII by its wardens. Nett Doze (he insists we refer to him by his full name at all times) took on the role of crazed “prisoner” by nearly knocking Emir out with a blow to the back of his head. The wardens bought it and we were allowed into orbit, but Nett Doze’s methods are disagreeable at best. I can’t trust a man who smells like death. Sigmund told me to “keep and eye” on him if I was so worried. That had to have been a joke.

327 will escort our “prisoner” hopefully all the way down to the planet’s surface where we’ll all meet back up, but I doubt they’ll let him go that far. I almost admire Nett Doze for willingly walking into captivity. Almost.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are going to “drop” to the surface, as Kayp put it, which apparently consists of free-falling through the planet’s atmosphere. Sounds like suicide to me, but Kayp has proved himself to be a capable pilot, so I choose to remain cautiously optimistic about our chances of survival.

Time to go. Hopefully this won’t be my last entry.

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And on it goes..
Part Two

Where was I?
……. Oh yeah. The assholes on the dock.

Well, it was looking pretty bad. Enough of them had escaped the chaos at from the chop shop to make it just as unfair as a fight before. We weren’t going to win, but we at least wouldn’t make it easy on them. Right as everything was looking the worst, someone yelled out from the ship to run, because they were going to open fire. For the most part, if someone starts yelling at me, I think it’s cute. But then I saw that the ships guns were pointed at me. Great. Well, I guess not me, really, but those guns are huge when you’re looking up the cannon! Twenty feet in either direction and it would’ve looked like they were pointing at me as well.
Well, as much as I love explosions, regardless if they’re my fault or not, I wasn’t about to stay there for the front row seat. I hauled ass toward that cruiser. Was everyone else following? Not my problem. They made it though, so I guess that was a nice bonus. I wouldn’t be able to fly this thing without them (Literally. Way too much for only me to handle.). She’s a pretty ship, but she’s too fat for me.
Titansbane… I don’t think she’s fat enough for such a grand title, but I guess we’ll see.
Long story short, we left the dock, and hightailed it out of orbit. I may have fired off a few warning shots in my excitement, not exactly AT anyone, but…. Maybe we wait a while before going back to Gunpoint.
Once we got out of orbit, our first mate introduced himself to us. Havoc. No, that’s his name, I don’t know.
Well, a few of our group thought he was a little suspicious, so they tried digging a bit, Emir and Havoc looked like they were about to get into a fight. That would’ve been fun. So far, all my attempts to start shit between them have resulted in not much, and that is a tragedy. I blame Sigmund, he apparently talked to Havoc, man to man, and smoothed things out a bit.

I’m not sure if I actually like any of the crew yet… No wait, that’s a lie…

Anyway, after a few uneventful weeks in the warp, we finally made it to… near Sheol XVII, but not really… (I don’t know exactly what happened there, but Nyx is blind, so I guess we were pretty close all things considered…. I don’t know how all that works) Not entirely uneventful I guess, I did win an unopened bottle of Amasec off a few games of chance. Seriously, either this crew is playing me hard, or they are just really that bad at gambling. Hopefully it’s the latter.
We were immediately hailed by the wardens of the planet, who were kind enough to inform us that the planet was “under the protection” of Thical. Well, I can’t remember the last time I heard the phrase, “under the protection” without someone about to start shooting, so I started warming up the guns.
Next thing I know, they’re coming on board our ship! And Nett went complete batshit crazy. Everyone keeps telling me he was pretending to be a prisoner to get us there without a fight, which if you read a bit further you’ll find didn’t work out great for us… Well, Nett and Krieger went off pretending to be doing prisoner transfer, and while they wardens were preoccupied with them, the rest of us, including Jimmy, snuck down to the planet in a sweet little transport. Jimmy was one of the crew that I met from gambling. That bottle of Amasec I mentioned earlier actually used to be his! Before heading out, we may have drank his last bottle, which I will have to make a mental note is not the greatest thing to do before a stealth mission. We were coming down hard, and Kayp wasn’t able to pull us out of our free fall, so it was time for me to step up.

I fucked it up. Jimmy is dead, which is a huge bummer because I was planning on blaming him and his alcohol on the crash, but now that just feels like a dick move.

It was Jimmy’s fault. He must’ve added something to the Amasec before he gave it to me. I know I’m a better pilot than that… Though, I guess for the most part I am usually trying to crash into things. Hmm.

I’m not sure what happened for the next little while, I was pretty out of it. Eventually though, Nett showed up with a new transport! And a new Jimmy! Jimmy 2.0(Now with pilot training!). Actually, I think I heard someone say the name, Maximilliano. I can dig it.

We looked around for a while where the dead drop was supposedly located and couldn’t find anything. Right as we were about to pack it up and go look at a new area, some mystery dude ran over to us, and said “We need to go. Now.”

Are you serious? Mystery dude? Those are never good. We better get paid well for this.

That’s it for now. Finally all caught up. Figured all this down time that arose for me from Jimmy’s negligence was as good a time as any to get caught up on these…

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Kayp Log 2.0
Good Luck and Bad Luck

The men from the warehouse looked pissed. They forced us to the ground, and just when I thought they were about to drag us away, a voice bellowed from the ship. “Get out of there! The dock will be destroyed!” Then the fireworks started..

First, the deafening sound of the guns filled the air and then there was fire everywhere. The dock was crumbling, almost out from under our feet, the vibrations almost enough to knock one on their ass. Running for the ship, an explosion threw me to the dock and pain came shooting up my arm from my right hand. Everything felt wet and I glanced down for a moment to see everything covered in scarlet. I could barely process the void where my pinky once was, as the military man, Krieger, jerks me up to my feet. Everything seemed to go in slow motion; looking ahead of me, I spotted Nyx seemingly alone amongst the chaos. Running to him, he instructs me to run ahead so he can follow me to the ship.

Barging into the ship’s hull brings a small wave of relief, but everything had sped up again, and my only thoughts now were to bail. And fast. Hoping everyone else was doing all right; I knew the most important thing now, was to get the hell off this planet. Noticing The Neck disappearing around a corner, I chase after him and realize that I am familiar with this ship’s layout. I race off down the corridor, to where I know the cock pit is, and radio directions to get The Neck to his guns. Plopping down behind of the controls of Titansbane, I get us up and out of danger feeling a huge wave of relief that everyone was safe and on board.

Up in space we meet the first mate, a sketch man named Havoc; he gives us more information about our mission. We are picking up a dead drop from the planet. Some of the others don’t trust Havoc.. They seem to be doing some investigation on him but I’d rather stay out of the conflict, for now at least.

Three weeks aboard the ship, I stay pretty close to my quarters and my seat at the front of the ship. Staring out at the stars makes me feel calm and almost complete. When not sleeping or stealing quiet moments with the stars, I spent some time tinkering around. I found a few odds and ends around the ship but nothing really useful. One day, I did happen to come across a battery I could use. Sigmund smacked it out of my hand and I wasn’t able to relocate it… What a dick. With what little I had, I tried to invent a sort of simple door chime, but my hand is giving me some problems. Krieger was unable to do anything about my missing finger but the wound is healing nicely. You just never realize how much you use a pinky.. At least it hasn’t affected my flying; I somehow managed to shave off a couple weeks off our travel time!

Once arriving outside of Sheol XVll, a couple of Thical’s ships stopped us in our tracks. They won’t let us land! While Emir tries sweet-talking his way through the situation, Nett Doze takes the matter into his own hands, and catches us all off guard. Or at least me and Emir. Emir, who got a swift bash to the back of his head, fell to the ground. I sat there quietly as the crew, tried convincing Thical we were delivering a prisoner.

Before I know it, Nett and Krieger are being escorted off the ship and I’m being filled in about piloting a smaller ship to the surface undetected. I know my way around a nosedive; I was the best pilot of my class back home, so I wasn’t worried about this small mission. Carving our way straight through the atmosphere went smoothly, but when I tried correcting the flyer, everything went wrong very quickly.. Red lights started flashing and alarms were buzzing in my ear; their symphony a warning that the ground was coming to greet us much too quickly. I pulled on the controls but I couldn’t get us straightened out! Calling The Neck up to co-pilot we fought the ship in an epic battle. An epic battle that we quickly lost. I thought I was going to throw up… everything. My whole body was jerked and slammed every way possible; all I could think of was my brother and how he will never know what happened to me. Then suddenly everything was still. Everything was silent. I could hear The Neck groan beside me, I was unaware of his injuries, but he was awake and moving around okay. Unclasping from my seat and stumbling to get up I searched for Nyx. He was unconscious but breathing. This was the worst bit of luck.. How were we going to get off this rock? I know we did all we could but a wave of guilt swept through me.. I watched Nyx hoping he would wake up soon.

The others returned to the broken down ship and I took a quick second to see if anything might be salvageable. It wasn’t. Sigmund got word from Nett and I attempted to adjust the frequency to the vox so we could understand him clearer and failed. What was with me?.. Couldn’t recover from a nosedive maneuver and now I couldn’t even repair a simple vox communicator!

Before I know it, we are on another ship. Nett Doze had returned to us with another man, Maximiliano. Where was Krieger? We set off to the dead drop and I sat by Maximiliano as he flew us through the snow. I stayed silent as I watched the beautiful snow banks whiz by. I was glad for the short break, still a bit shaken from the crash. Soon we arrived at our destination. There wasn’t much of anything around… Suddenly The Neck spotted a man standing on a nearby hill. Approaching our ship he states “We need to leave this planet.” Was this man the drop?

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Field Log 834.M41-0128 High Orbit: Sheol XVII

//THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: IT IS BETTER TO DIE FOR THE EMPEROR THAN TO LIVE FOR YOURSELF//

To gaze down from the heavens, far from the pain and struggles below I become restless… I miss my trench.

As I write this I am standing on the command bridge of our ship, the Light Cruiser Titans Bane, overlooking the planet Sheol XVII. I can feel the crew’s eyes upon me as I stand here awaiting contact from the ground team. They don’t trust me yet, nor I them.

When we made it to the dry docks on Gunpoint were were met by a group claiming to be a part of the Administratum only for them to turn out to be part of the group that ambushed us at the warehouse. They wanted information, on use, the ship, and who hired us. Their pitiful attempts at intimidation failed to make an impression on me and I stared them down. This must have frustrated them as they had the audacity to strike me. If they had not taken the non-combatants hostage I would have killed him where he stood. Thankfully we received covering fire from the ship’s guns and crew allowing us to retreat to the ship.

REMINDER: Find out who it was that shot the man that was holding the las to my head and award him.

Our gunnery crews leave much to be desired however. We were forced to dodge our own weapons as we ran for cover and the dock took substantial damage. I was forced to run back several times to help stragglers to the ship, particularly the blind lad named Nyx. Zarko “The Neck”, the hulking man that appears to be our new Gunnery Officer, says he will be addressing the issue soon.

The Arbites responded to the commotion caused by the ships guns opening up in the dry docks, which had all but destroyed our ship’s moorings. I attempted to “gently persuade” them from pursuing us, but did not listen and attempted to stop us boarding the ship. It matters not though, their small arms could do little to the hull of our ship once the hatch was shut and the ship launched.

Being as diplomatic as possible I confronted the looter, whom turned out to be the Rogue Trader I was hired to protect, on the nature of the heretical symbol carved into his collar. Now that I understanding the circumstances I have decided not to execute him, though he still did not heed my advise that Chaos corrupts all it touches and that we should burn off the mark as soon as possible.

Out of system, it would take us several weeks by warp to reach Sheol XVII. First Mate Havoc turned over control of the ship to us, explaining that this was the original arrangement set up by Wagner, the man that was killed on Gunpoint. Emir is suspicious of the intentions of the crew, and while I am inclined to agree with him that something does not seem right, I feel it is wrong to pile all the mistrust onto Havoc and the crew.

Throne, the size of the room they assigned me. Three full platoons in full kit could make themselves at home with room to stretch. I have been attempting to turn it into a defensible position. Need more crates.

Sigmund apparently wanted a chance for us to formally introduce ourselves and threw a dinner after we’d settled. The food was garish, drinks to weak, and everyone talks too much. I’ve watched him move about, he tries too hard to be on everyone’s good side. Watching him as well.

The Emperor guided us safely thought the warp, and Kayp is an exceptional Helmsman and managed to shave off several weeks off of our journey.

I have begun to familiarize myself with the layout of the ship. I have never had free reign to move about a ship like this, or at least, not one that was not attached to the Imperial Navy. There is little military discipline, only what is required to maintain the ship, and a strong sense of community. Family groups exist all throughout the ship, children can be seen playing in the corridors, I even passed a small wedding being held in one of the numerous small shrines scattered across the ship. This is not simply a warship. This is their home.

I find myself rather jealous of

It has been brought to my attention that there is no proper security force or soldiers aboard this vessel besides myself. My charges have grown from half a dozen to tens of thousands. They have emergency weapons in the event of boarding actions or Warp incident but I fear that will not be enough if they wish to defend their home from attack. I will endeavor to remedy this over the next few weeks.

We encountered two Thical Warden frigates in en-route to Sheol XVII, they were not please with our course. While Captain Emir was attempting to negotiate the Admech attacked him from behind. If not for the quick realization of Sigmund over the micro-bead over what he might have been planning I would have responded with lethal force. Using the Admech as a “prisoner” and telling a series of half-truths we talked our way tot he orbital station where I escorted the prisoner though processing. Had to look impressive “to sell the story”.

Hate full dress, don’t even remember what half these damn metals are called.

While this was happening a second team was to deep strike a shuttle behind the cover of the ship and reach the location of the dead drop… There was an… accident. I’ve confirmed they are alive and have acquired transport.

I am now standing by awaiting word from the surface.

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Sheol, and morons
Also morons.

Well we aren’t captured anymore, no thanks to the fleshies I find myself surrounded by. I can appreciate the brutal efficiency of our assistance, though I will be mourning the loss of an artifact caught in the crossfire. There will be others. Maybe not with such a beautiful jaw, or the seductive curves of a flawless parietal bone, but there will be others.

With weeks until our destination, I’ve set about familiarizing myself with the ship. The intricacies I find in every room lay bare the exquisite machinations to come.

The fleshies tell me we’ve arrived near Sheol. They failed to tell me that they had no information beyond location, and that we’ve suddenly found ourselves talking to some lovely fleshies telling us to turn tail or else, as we have no reason to be approaching the penal planet before us. Morons. Despite the obvious course of action being to have a prisoner, the fleshies seemed surprised when I volunteered for that role. Even so far as to think I had turned on them. Morons.

A bewitching superposition of amusing and sad, my temporary departure from the fleshies seems to have negatively impacted their ability to function. What do you call a pair of void masters that can’t fly a small ship? Fateless. What do you call the audio log from the crash? Priceless.

Being unable to stifle the maddening amusement gifted by this plan since the initial encounter has proven beneficial. Such a grand opportunity to spread the name of Nett Doze can hardly go untouched. After a quick processing, I rendered an artifact unusable and made a new fleshy friend. At least while I had him by the throat. My name has been cast into the reaches, it is only a matter of time before I hear its echoes.

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Gunpoint and a new retinue: 834M41-0121

Nothing ever good happens when I’m sober.

Our newest debacle would take us to the outreaches of a forlorn Hiveworld known as Gunpoint. The smell of metal, rot, and corruption brings back a sense of nostalgia; how I have missed the old days where a laspistol was enough to garner shelter or a purse brimming with credits for the day.

Alas, as a Rogue Trader I have much better prospects ahead of me.

The conference given by our benefactor was purely for show; an air of alarm followed by an anxiousness not usually seen by informants permeated the very core of the room and its small furnishing. Around the dimly-lit table were apparently newly seized opportunities in the form of a hack-job and mercenary crew. Thank the Primarchs that Sigmund and Nyx were there; I wouldn’t have even bothered with this retinue if it wasn’t for them. However, of all the ironies by the Throne, our funds are small so finding a crew for our trade house has been based on a combination of luck and desperation.

Is…that Adeptus Mechanicus housing multiple skulls around his waistband? How intriguing…I will have to learn more about this individual later. I am not but impressed by his sense of fashion and nonchalant care for others.

Meanwhile I see that the Exmilitant my information broker recommended decided to make an appearance. For having denied the Star of the Emperor twice, he looks naught better than a thug with a gas-mask. I also like him. I will have to spend time conversing with him as well.

And who exactly, are these other two? This one seems to be a behemoth of a man; strength is an important factor, his prowess will be exploitable in the future.

Meanwhile I have no idea how to even describe the other one.
I’ll have to thank Sigmund and my information brokers soon. This is not a bad crew given the circumstances. They appear to be loyal and willing to work for some coin. Something desirable for any working situation.

This tense atmosphere seems to be building. Our benefactor appears to be in a hurry; rude if you ask me. Getting a ship should not be an exhaustive approach. What am I even paying him for? Either way, I’d better grip my hand cannon and make a future if things turn sour…

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And on it goes...
Part One

My travels took me to a hive world on the edge of the Hazeroth region, looking for my next pay day. Hive worlds always seem like a safe bet for work. As I was scouting for a job, a man in a grey cloak handed me a tablet, filled with information about me, some strangers, and a location.
I haven’t been given a mystery job in a long time, so this will probably be pretty great. Normally I don’t just take the first job offered to me by a stranger, but the tablet noted my… love… for pirates as “possible future problem”, so I’m fairly certain they’re not going to try to sell us into slavery or kill us and steal what little goods we have. They’d probably have a hard time of it anyway.
I entered the large warehouse the tablet led me to, and was led into a room filled with the strangers from my tablet, and the man in the grey coat. This guy was huge, almost as big as me! Very impressive. He looked like he was in a rush though, and something wasn’t right in the way he moved, he was preparing for a fight. Hand on my gun I listened to his instructions.
He told us there was a ship in dry dock on the far side of the district that we were to be given command of, and that we were headed to a penal planet, Sheol XVII, for a dead drop, with more instructions later. Gunfire filled the air and some thugs busted in and tried to kill us. They succeeded in killing the stranger who gave us the job, but he made sure to take one with him. We stayed and fought for a few minutes, but were quickly outnumbered and fled. We were greeted outside by the Adeptus Arbites, because my luck is always so great.
Emir stepped forward(which is frankly amazing considering I thought for sure he had been killed, his fate was not to die today though), and after some quick explanation, he told them what had transpired in the warehouse, and they rushed in and joined the fray while we searched for the dry dock.
After what seemed like forever searching, we made it to the dock. The ship is fairly impressive, looks to be cruiser class. However, shortly upon approaching our new command, we were intercepted by some officials who claimed to be part of the Administratum. Fooled us all too, until we saw the thugs that they had accompanying them. Of course it was the same group that had attacked us earlier at the chop shop.

Well, something came up, so I’ll have to finish this in my next entry, spoiler alert, I survive the next part.

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Destination Sheol XVII-834.M41-0121
Emir heavily injured. Unstable crew established.

Approximately four hours after the solar zenith, Emir, Nyx and I were delivered an envelope detailing a mission involving our unique skills and instructed to meet at a predetermined location. No familiarity is had with this individual. Details included tremendous profit.

Cautious Optimism.

Upon our arrival to a large abandoned warehouse, the man in question gave a brief but ill processed description of our mission. We are to be given command of a ship and will take it to an established meet and exchange point for further instructions. He was soon killed by pursuers who then opened fire on Emir, Nyx, myself and the various rabble that makes up our new crew.

Unbridled excitement. Intense fear.

The combat was alarming and dangerous. One among our group seems trained in the art of combat and he was most helpful. As i gunned down our first attacker, my bolt-gun jammed most inconveniently, prompting Emir to step into the crossfire of my opponent and two unseen assailants. This resulted in his perforation with bullets and a near fatal shot to his head.

Breathtaking. Tremendous irritation and fear. Pleasant surprise.

Rightfully he fled combat, and we proceeded to kill our remaining opponents. My second gun jammed as well, but my first gun was repaired by our (apparent) new mechanic. Conveniently, this allowed me to dispatch another foe. In addition, Nyx managed to kill an attacker coming from our flank.

Relief. Frustration. Perplexity.

The previously mentioned obvious soldier rallied the rest of us out the doors and we were met with the Arbites. After speaking with them, we were allowed to leave as they moved to contain the violence within. We then managed (after several fruitless hours to locate our ship. Unfortunately, our attackers were already waiting. It is only a matter of time before they kill us or we escape.

Concentration. Impatience.

Tasks and Priorities:

1) Apply subterfuge and stealth to any further combat situations (training is in order)
2) Speak with military oriented comrade about developing future tactics
3) Educate Emir about statistical probability of death in the face of multiple shooters
4) Inquire how Nyx uses firearms
5) Escape captivity and hire a full crew for our vessel
6) Perhaps introduce all members of core crew to each-other.
7) Arrange celebration of survival (or any death rites necessary)

Further notes:

I find myself overall irritated with the process of events. Having well crafted equipment cease operations twice in the span of ten minutes is astounding as well as frustrating. Our employer died before giving us specific and useful instruction. Emir recklessly moved into combat and was nearly killed. Our search was inhibited by a lack of useful information and proper coordination. Combat is intensely uncomfortable at close range and i endeavor to avoid it. However, it appears likely I will be incapable. However, meeting the goal of a fully functioning and highly capable star ship is a tremendous positive development that should not be understated. Perhaps I am still in shock, or perhaps I will only feel elation once our captors are dispatched. In the meantime, I shall plan our finances according to the assumption our survival is eminent.

Fortuna est Deus,

Sigmund.

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