(Purchased:

Intelligence: Grants +5 to the Intelligence Characteristic.

Intelligence Characteristic 28+5=33

Intelligence aptitude gained

115 XP remaining

 

Social: Grants +4 to the Fellowship Characteristic as well as Charm Training.

Fellowship Characteristic 28+4=32

Social aptitude gained

Charm skill increased to basic

75 XP remaining

 

Knowledge: Grants +2 to the Intelligence and perception Characteristics as well as Logic training.

Intelligence Characteristic 33+2=35

Perception Characteristic 22+2=24

Knowledge aptitude gained

Logic skill increased to basic

35 XP remaining)

 

In the end I did not want to risk taking any sort of chaotic alignment just yet without knowing the effects it would have. I was three steps closer to finishing up my affinities. Just needed enough XP to acquire Psyker and one last affinity. I was torn between getting willpower to aid in developing the Psyker powers or some sort of combat ability. If I had a choice it would be Ballistic Skill, Offence, Defence or Willpower. I did not want to get into any sort of melee engagement if I could help it. Finesse was also a very attractive prospect.

 

I collected my things and left the bathroom, careful to check my corners and listen for movement that might give away any beastmen. I made my way to the hallway with the security locked doors on either side and inspected them. My basic tech use skill helping to identify elements of the door and the fact that they used a hydraulic system to open and close. 

 

As I had predicted the benefits of Basic Tech Use did not give me any idea of how to ‘hack’ or otherwise bypass the doors, I considered trying to find a way to drain the hydraulic fluid but the mechanism being behind thick metal plates put an end to that course of action. Unless I found some kind of cutting or grinding power tool there was no way to open the doors.

 

That meant that the only way to acquire supplies was in the Rotunda. I suppressed a sigh and made my way past the desiccated corpse and found myself at the propped open door. I took a moment to carefully peer out into the Rotunda for any waiting beastmen but found nothing. I then moved to inspect the door. The crate being used to prop open the door was slightly crushed in place, with no give at all for the door indicating that the hydraulic lines inside of the door were still functional and the create had simply been placed under the door as it was closing rather then being opened by any sort of security bypass, physical or otherwise. 

 

Without any reason to procrastinate any longer I crawled out into the Rotunda, clutching my pipe carefully. The rain had stopped but there was still what looked like a cloud at the apex of the colossal room. There were also far fewer plumes of smoke slowly wafting up to the ceiling. That must have been what was causing the shower yesterday. I wanted to laugh at just how mind bogglingly huge this room was, large enough to host weather patterns and tribal warfare. 

 

40k was absurd.

 

I turned my attention to the cranes that protruded from the round wall at regular intervals. There must have been dozens of them surrounding the room. Massive extendable hooks and struts fitted snugly into grooves in the ceiling but with the complex network of walkways hundreds of metres above me operating the cranes in any capacity must have been a very dangerous affair. 

 

Several of the cranes were not neatly stacked away but were left out, some had crates hanging in the air as if they had been abandoned mid-work. The control cockpit for the cranes were too high up to see clearly but seemed to offer a wide field of view of the Rotunda. It stood to reason that if I could get up there I would be able to create some sort of map of the area, identifying Beastmen encampment and other features of the Rotunda to aid in my navigation. Hopefully enough information to move without notice and gather supplies with minimal risk of being captured or killed.

 

I began to move, hugging the wall and keeping my head on a swivel. There was a roadway of sorts between the Rotunda wall and where the containers had been stacked up. Now and then there was an entrance to the cargo maze that I kept careful attention to as if a horde of beastmen would suddenly rush out with ill intent. 

 

Eventually I came to another doorway, this one sized for some sort of container carrier equivalent. The sort of vehicle that I had already observed in the Rotunda, the one that had been gutted for some reason. This door was again security locked and no one had helpfully propped it open for me. 

 

I felt my stomach rumble as I inspected the door but found no way to open it. I produced my dataslate and searched for ‘food’ ‘meat’ ‘grain’ ‘bread’ all to no avail. That did not mean that there was no food in the Rotunda. The Beastmen had to be eating something besides other Beastmen and Humans after all. It simply meant that I had no idea what keyword would identify cargo containers with any food in them.

 

Checking the area for movement again I approached the stacks of cargo containers, the area I was in did not have an entrance to the maze giving me some degree of security as I inspected the bottom most container. They very heavily resembled cargo containers from Earth, only they looked more heavy duty and had little skulls attached to them on the corners of the crate.

 

There were no handles or obvious ways to open the crate except a little keypad recessed into the front left side of the container. Reflecting on the fact that keypads being everywhere was becoming the bane of my fucking existance I pressed a number on the keypad causing it to light up and request a ten digit passcode. I pressed one until it was filled up only to be rejected. I let out a huff before I noticed a faded number printed on the crate just over the keypad. Searching the number of the container on my dataslate I felt my heart skip a beat as I actually found documentation on it.

 

There was a lot of data on the size and weight of the cargo and a series of guilds, authorities and religious organisations apparently signing off on the cargo in the crate, the most interesting being the Mechanicus had apparently inspected the container twice and had sanctified it’s transport both times. The Container itself was heading to a ‘Order of the Sleeping Maiden’ somewhere called Ossuar. Sounded religious, I wondered if it had anything to do with the Sisters of Battle. Finding a container full of power armour would be more than welcome! 

 

The document I had scanned had the security details on the cargo manifest but did not actually list what the cargo was. I was willing to bet that if it was incredibly valuable that a small office in the Rotunda would not have the code to open the container up. Without sparing a thought for the Sleeping Maiden I typed in the code and felt a wide smile form on my face at the excitement.

 

The door unlocked with a surprisingly loud clang and then swung open revealing the container to be stacked floor to ceiling with grey boxes. Hardly the most exciting beginning but I was still hooked on the excitement at what I might find in the container. I then had to struggle with actually getting the crates out. I was not tall enough to reach the top crate and side it out so I settled on pulling out a whole stack. Slowly working the heavy crates out as what little muscles I had screamed in protest. 

 

Without warning there was another crash as the entire world rocked around me throwing me to the ground and sending the crates thumping to the paved ground. Thankfully avoiding being crushed by falling crates I waited for the aftershocks to settle down before inspecting the boxes.

 

Some of them had been dented by the fall but had not broken. Taking that as a good sign I unclasped a mechanism on the side of one of the crates to open it up onto to find a red, broken glass soup. It was wine, strong enough to make my eyes water and my stomach rumble. The fumes alone make the air taste of alcohol. Personally I was not much of a wine person but the thought of anything with caloric value being in front of me was making it difficult to resist trying to scoop out some of the wine to take a sip.

 

Thankfully I resisted the temptation, the broken glass and the near certainty of inebriation considering my body mass and the lack of food in my belly was enough for me to come to my senses. I turned away from the crate of no doubt expensive wine and looked into the other crates. 

 

Candles, stone busts, incense, purity seals. It was a cornucopia of general religious stuff but so far nothing I could use. Eventually one of the crates had some vestments that I considered taking but they were far too large for me to use without modification. Modification that would entail cutting up what was no doubt obscenely expensive silky clothes with detailed icons all across them. 

 

Perhaps I could use these as blankets? In any case I was tired of looking through the religious container, there was nothing to eat and no boltguns or flame throwers to use! What a dumb container!

 

I moved onto the next closest container and searched my dataslate only to come up empty. The next few were likewise failures until I found one that I did have documentation for. It was a container that was owned by the Adeptus Ministorum and bound for the Kathrinkas dynasty trade ship ‘Bountiful Flock’. I inputted the code and watched as the doors to the container swung open revealing dozens of hunched figures standing under a dull red light.

 

My heart skipped a beat as I battled with the instinct to run away from the clearly wrong figures. Their eyes, all of them uniform, one yellowed organic eye and one inhuman machine black lens turning to regard me without expression. Dozens of the mutilated men, tall and broad shouldered moved more than to turn their heads slightly, and face down towards me.

 

I swallowed, feeling a sense of sickness that was at odds with the hunger in my belly. There was little confusion here, these were servitors. Each of them had a single brass plate bolted into their chests with a word followed by a serial code.

 

Technomat. 

 

The silence was deafening, despite that I was not expecting anything to be said. These were people who had been lobotomized, a monument to the stark inhumanity of the Mechanicus and the Imperium of Man. I was looking at equipment, equipment that looked to be starving just as I was, cheeks sunken in and muscles degrading from standing still, packed together into the container. 

 

“E-exit the container.” I tried, watching as the cyborgs took a moment to process what I had just said. Then they all gave out a loud buzzing sound and strange tones before falling silent. After a moment of me trying to puzzle out what I was meant to do they all spoke out 

 

“COMMAND AUTHORITY REQUIRED, PRESENT COMMAND IMPULSE UNIT.” I blinked as the crowd of servitors stared at me before I reached over and pressed my hand to the container's keypad. It was almost anticlimactic as the doors swung closed and sealed with a magnetic clang. I let out a sigh of relief and took a moment to collect myself before a horn sounded out not too far from me.

 

I turned around and tried to spot any movement but found nothing, the sound having come from deeper in the maze but the horn was too much of a coincidence to ignore. Someone had heard the servitors speak, they had not exactly been quiet after all. The horn likely meant that the person wanted backup before they investigated. That gave me time to prepare. I doubted I could make it all the way back to the propped open door without being spotted.

 

I gripped my metal pipe tighter, cursing my decision not to invest in my combat capabilities. Running risked me getting caught out in the open, but I could not simply wait to be found. I had to act now. I looked about me as a plan slowly came to mind.