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[_DivideByZero_]

"That's odd." Tork pointed out after spending some time observing the workers.

"But at least we confirmed they are human, odd as they may be. A cold comfort, but a comfort none the less."

Tristan was watching over the proceedings patiently, observing the odd behavior with an interested expression.

"In any case, lets return these commodities to our ship. Perhaps they will shine some light on what, exactly, we are dealing with."

The plastic crates formed a neat--and steadily growing--pile. The foreign crewmen, as their supply of work dwindled, began to patiently... stand in place. They lined up, but other than moving into position, they stood motionless, with hollow eyes starting into the distance.


The Shark's vox team relays a communication sent to Indecent:
"The cargo is prepared. We are awaiting to meet your representative in landing number twenty-twelve. Pressurizing the hangar to enable flight to the outer wall."

At the edge of the colossal landing pad is an entrance to a pair of massive cargo elevators. No landing, however, let alone a numbered one.

Looking across at the wall, there are numerous circular doors scattered across, each with a unique glyph. These doors don't seem useful to those on the landing deck. There are no balconies, bridges, or stairs.

[Devastator]

Make some preparations should an emergency visit the landing party.  Organize another shuttle with a pilot, and space to evacuate the party that's on the station.  Also, prepare armsmen sufficient to fill the remaining seats, saving one for myself.

[Aseaheru]

 Ducking down from their slightly raised seat Eggbert looks down the troop hold of the Shark and speaks softly to the party.
"The way those men act reminds me more of servitors than base humans... Ah, lord-captian, if we can outfit your party with some form of beacon than in the event of some form of double-dealing troops can be sent to reinforce, potentally with this craft cutting to your position."

[Stirk]

Ducking down from their slightly raised seat Eggbert looks down the troop hold of the Shark and speaks softly to the party.
"The way those men act reminds me more of servitors than base humans... Ah, lord-captian, if we can outfit your party with some form of beacon than in the event of some form of double-dealing troops can be sent to reinforce, potentally with this craft cutting to your position."

"I doubt that will be necessary, it does not look like we have far to move. I have my microbead at the ready if we do need to give you our location. Otherwise just listen for the gunfire."

The trader exits the ship, probably alongside whoever decides to escort him. He then walks to where he thinks the designated area should be, taking in the odd scenery with inquisitive glances.

[_DivideByZero_]

Ducking down from their slightly raised seat Eggbert looks down the troop hold of the Shark and speaks softly to the party.
"The way those men act reminds me more of servitors than base humans... Ah, lord-captian, if we can outfit your party with some form of beacon than in the event of some form of double-dealing troops can be sent to reinforce, potentally with this craft cutting to your position."

"I doubt that will be necessary, it does not look like we have far to move. I have my microbead at the ready if we do need to give you our location. Otherwise just listen for the gunfire."

The trader exits the ship, probably alongside whoever decides to escort him. He then walks to where he thinks the designated area should be, taking in the odd scenery with inquisitive glances.

Since he cannot read the numbers, the trader approaches the far wall, and looks up.

The rounded doors are two men's height up from the floor. It is not possible to walk up there.

Perhaps that leaves the stairs. But the transmission did not mention a stair at all.

Make some preparations should an emergency visit the landing party.  Organize another shuttle with a pilot, and space to evacuate the party that's on the station.  Also, prepare armsmen sufficient to fill the remaining seats, saving one for myself.

Sub puts together a potential rescue team, readying an Arvus lighter for launch with a couple of spaces left for the rest of the party.
(crew's at full morale, so...)

[Stirk]

The stairs looking like the best path, the trader strides confidently up them. After all, the transmission didn't not mention stairs either, and getting lost is hardly a sin in an unusual place.

[_DivideByZero_]

The stairs looking like the best path, the trader strides confidently up them. After all, the transmission didn't not mention stairs either, and getting lost is hardly a sin in an unusual place.

Tristan and his escorts approach the stairs next to cargo elevator. The elevator itself, looking rusted-over and crusted over with spilt cargo, hardly befits a visitor.

The elevators do have a stairwell nearby, wide enough to perhaps accommodate two Astartes side-by-side. Progressing further, the party notices several not-so-subtle shifts in the direction gravity. Looking back, it seems the corridor curves upward.

Though up is, among other things, relative when you are talking about the void.


The team enters a large room styled after a cafeteria, with two groups of eight tables aligned length-wise with the hall. At the other end of the room is another hall closed, and the floor is black with speckles of starlight. A group of crewmen languish in the corner, talking amongst one another and taking note of your arrival by staring. They have pistols at their waists.

The cafeteria is littered with half-eaten trays. It is as if, at one point, everyone simply stopped what they were doing and left.

[Stirk]

"Well it looks like we took a wrong turn after all" The Trader then sighed, scratching his head in annoyance. "I'll do what I should have done from the outset. Ask for directions.

He walks up to the nearest crewman, close enough to speak without appearing threatening. "We are representatives from the other ship, here to speak of trade matters with your own representatives. Could you point us the way to landing number twenty-twelve?"

[_DivideByZero_]

"Well it looks like we took a wrong turn after all" The Trader then sighed, scratching his head in annoyance. "I'll do what I should have done from the outset. Ask for directions.

He walks up to the nearest crewman, close enough to speak without appearing threatening. "We are representatives from the other ship, here to speak of trade matters with your own representatives. Could you point us the way to landing number twenty-twelve?"

The crew look amongst themselves as if they don't have any sort of spokesperson. They're a disorganized lot.

"Sure, it's down the hall over there. Take a right and you'll see a big room," said one of them. "There's stairs all over the outer rim of chamber. I'm sure you can find this landing somewhere."

[Stirk]

"Thank you kindly. We shal be off, then."

Follow the directions as they were given.

[_DivideByZero_]

"Thank you kindly. We shal be off, then."

Follow the directions as they were given.

The crewmen not following, your party heads onward into the hall, and discovers the large room as anticipated. However, something seemed off. The room was hardly a hub.Steady streams of rice fell from chutes in the wall into a collection vat at the very bottom. Dull orange lights illuminated the old, rust-encrusted walls and the black floorgrates and minimalist guardrails with an otherworldly glow. There are various paths accessible by stairs around the circumference in the room, all marked by strange symbols, but the whole setup seems more like a factory floor than a meeting area for a high-tech station which produced exotic archaic technologies.

[HighEndNoob]

This entire station gives me an ill omen. Those symbols are disconcerting as well. Could they be...?

Examine the marks we pass by closely, using Forbidden Lore (Heresy to cross-reference the symbols to chaos marks and see if heresy has infested this area.

[Sirus]

Maxwell keeps his senses open for signs of warp buggery on the station.

[Tiruin]

Roll for Forbidden Lore; Pirates/Daemonology.

"Captain," Amara said from behind the group, having joined in with the station-team, "How much experience does anyone have of new cultures and sights like these? I am wary, but I am also certain that this may be something just different from what we are used to."

[Stirk]

Roll for Forbidden Lore; Pirates/Daemonology.

"Captain," Amara said from behind the group, having joined in with the station-team, "How much experience does anyone have of new cultures and sights like these? I am wary, but I am also certain that this may be something just different from what we are used to."

"That depends entirely on what these sights are. Cultures we have an understanding of. We have assembled a wide range of expertise, if the markings are not a local formulation we should be able to discern their true nature. It certainly wouldn't be odd for a culture isolated from the Imperium to develop its own script, even plethera of planets known to us have unique symbols."