Rogue Trader: A quest for profit in the grim darkness of the 41st millenium. But dying in mediocrity and misery is for poor people and losers, and a Rogue Trader's retinue is anything but.
Rogue Trading for Fun and Profit is bought to you by:
Lord-Captain van Hohenheim - Rogue Trader. Hero. The last of his line. That's like a unicorn!
Magos Abigail von Thannhausen - A magos who possibly takes too much pleasure in the craft of Servitors. Accompanied by her servo-skull.
Archaius Wash - A gunnery sergeant with an irritatingly low-quality accent and a poor-grade artificial voicebox.
Sebastian LaMarck - A seneschal with a silver tongue.
Winter York - Astropath Transcendant. Monstrous willpower. Your glorious narrator and remembrancer.
We leave Port Wander, just in time to avoid a concerted push against the dock we'd been using. I guess we haven't really made friends here. Oops.
The trip to footfall takes longer than expected, exceeding the expected time of a few weeks. Rest isn't easy, and we feel like we're being followed. A month into the trip, the Gellar Fields flicker for a hair-raising moment, but we seem to be okay, and after 48 days, we emerge.
Some passing astropathic messages tell me the actual time elapsed on the outside is around 250 days, give or take. It doesn't bother Burden, though, and she calls a strategy meeting, which we attend.
After Footfall, we're bound for KTL-220-D, 4th planet from the sun. Not particularly well-mapped / explored, so we decide to tool up.
Wash looks for and finds a shiny new plasma pistol. I set my sights a little higher, for power armor. I found a set, but the price simply wasn't right, so no dice.
Magos Abigail uses her time to retool a Skitarri plasma cannon we got from Skekris' tower -- the Lord-Captain looks for Slaught and other combat drugs. He doesn't find any, or a chemist.
This seems to disagree with him. He gets some guards and his dogs, and goes to ask a homeless man with his chainaxe. Everyone screams and runs away, and he can't understand why nobody wants to lead him to a chemist. There are stampedes and mass panic, and small children get in the way of the chainaxe when it is thrown.
We regroup at the ship. The Lord Captain is impressive as ever, his coat all red. The Magos is the pillar of humanitarianism, caring for people injured in the stampede and mugged.
We depart on a fairly stable warp route; it is quite smooth, and we arrive in KTL-220 without further incident, and decide to actually think before acting today.
KTL-220-D has mercenary ships in orbit; we outrange them, so we still have the element of surprise. We go silent to orbit opposite the mercs, and then fly down in the gun cutter, loaded for space-bear.
It's a pretty barren planet, covered in structures half-buried in the dust. We approach our target, nothing short of a monolith; it's lit up like a Emprahmas tree, so we stop about 2 klicks out.
We scout the camp around it; there's a couple of sentries at the entrance to the monolith, some prefab buildings, and a comms array on one of them. Wash and Abigail go for the comms array, Hohenheim and I go clear buildings. Raynor and Burden hang back.
Wash and Abigail are heard, but fall back and take out the one they drew the attention of. Wash helps Abigail up onto the roof of the comms prefab. Hohhenheim and I barge into the first building, which is a barracks, and kill everyone in their sleep.
Things get hairy on Wash and Abigail's side of the camp, but they prevail and we murder the last of the sentries.
With everyone on the outside dead, the party heads into the Temple Complex.
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