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 Into the Breach: Intermission

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Chosen One

Posts : 169
Join date : 2009-05-04

PostSubject: Into the Breach: Intermission   Mon Mar 08, 2010 3:03 pm

This will be the post that describes the immediate repercussions of the operation on Necromunda. It will give an overview of what occurred, what is expected of the group (In character-wise) and an idea of what is going to happen at the end of the 5 year hiatus they are taking from active acolyte duties while Necromunda is put back in order. Add your characters personal activities, actions, memories, etc. to this thread for bonus experience/skills/talents.

The strange month of relative peace and quiet that settled over Necromunda and the Hive Primus was an interesting time to say the least. Multiple inquiries and cautious probing of the situation by multiple nobles and guild factors were a daily task for the present interim governor, Kalta Fleury. Such inquiries can to an abrupt halt with the arrival of the Segmentum Tempestus Transitory Ordo Xenos Fleet XI, under the command of Inquisitor Lord Carius Jakarell who immediately took charge of the situation and begin a systematic purge of heretical elements in conjuction with Ordo Hereticus agents.

As for the team of acolytes themselves, the following weeks of interrogation stood just mere steps below torture as they were repeatedly grilled for information regarding what had occurred on such an important Hive World in the Segmentum Tempestus. By the end of the proceedings, the Inquisitors were not entirely convinced of the supposed motives of mere power-brokering that led to the Fleury families intended overthrow of the Imperium upon Necromunda, but there was insufficient information to determine the "actual" reason for the attempt. Investigations would continue for many decades to determine what might have happened there.
Conversely, the work of the acolyte in preventing both the completion of the ritual as well as ferreting out and executing the higher up elements of the heresy was noted as a marked success, considering the minimal resources the team had to work with.

After several purity tests of the remaining Fleury family, it was determined that all those left remaining were free of taint and as such could avoid further retribution from the Imperium, if for no other reason than the forbearance of Operative Modesty. It was determined that the youngest male Fleury still living would assume the Planetary Governership, with his eldest remaining sister, Kalta Fleury, acting as regent until he was of proper age. Julie Fleury has remained in a coma since the attempt on her life by Inez Fleury.

As for the individual members of the team:
Kalta Fleury took up the temporary mantle of planetary governor in order to bring the planet back into line and begin the long process of cleansing the world of its heretical elements. She was given a relatively free hand to accomplish this in whatever fashion she deemed necessary, allowing anything from travel to distant stars to negotiate treaties herself, to leading groups of gangers and palace guards into the depths of the hives to destroy "dangerous elements".

Commissar Vladimir Silvreski found himself in critical conditions for the 5th+ time in his life as the shockwave from the orbital bombardment claimed all his appendages and caused severe internal damage of multiple organs. It took the genius of Master Chirurgeon Makrell to stabilize the commissar along with the assistance of several Magos level tech-priests. After spending several weeks in a coma of his own, Makrell and the tech-priests decided that it was time to "upgrade" the commissar into the machine man he practically already was and begin work on several lost and experimental techniques to rebuild him with the blessings of the Omnissiah that he may better serve the Emperor.

Benson was named Legate, the official representative of the Adeptus Arbites, to Necromunda for the duration of Kalta's term as governor. He was instructed to work along side her as necessary and to rebuild the planetary defense force and policing structure after the purges had so thoroughly denuded their numbers.

Operative Kaylin Ghent continued her vigil over the rest of the team, spending time in communication with members of the Red Redemption of Necromunda and assisting them as she saw necessary.

Father Quintos Sturk likewise continued his vigil, watching over Julie Fleury and shepherding her flock of Red Redemptionist in her absence. He worked closely with the acolyte team and assisted in the massive amount of clean-up that needed to be done in the wake of the operation.

It would be five years before the Inquisition called upon their operatives again. Placing them in command of a Free Trader mercenary vessel, that they may take to the stars and do the work required to protect the domain of the God Emperor.
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PostSubject: Re: Into the Breach: Intermission   Mon Mar 08, 2010 10:28 pm

Year One

"People of Necromunda," She began more firmly than she had hoped while staring at the vox caster in front of her. She adjusted the robe around her then checked the wheels of the chair still as she finally let a smile pierce her lips. Despite the haggard circles under her eyes and now fading marks of the fighting ever so prior she spoke words she had wanted to speak since the end of the fighting. "I am Kalta Fleury, assigned reagent and steward to the position of Planetary Governor. Many of you have become aware of the situation involving my family. I will not lie to you but give answers to questions that many of you have. It is in truth we find freedom from the very ends my family wrought for themselves and if they had not been stopped, decided for you as well. My mother alongside many members of my family had every desire to destroy this world for the sake of their own greed. Such things are not a surprise to you given how high our homes sit above the real backbone of this world and often do you hear the promises of every new leader that they do stand for the people. It is a lie begetting a lie that has led to such heresy to grow here. One I am ashamed to say was caused by my family. One that led me to have no other choice than to see them cleansed. I have watched my mother be incinerated and I shot down my sister in their actions to defy the will of the Golden Throne and of the Emperor." she paused, her lip trembling now as her eyes clearly welled. She looked down, her hand moving to her stomach as she exhaled, blowing the mess of hair from her eyes as she continued, more firmly and in a deeper tone than before. "I was sent away by them for my actions. Because I in my younger days worked in the lower hives for sport and the freedom it offered me. I became what they despised and wished destroyed and so I was outcast by them. It was they who tried to use my name to bring an end to this world, an end we here today stopped. The Modest Revolution was not just an act against a government well deserving but the sign of strength that showed to the rest of the Imperium that Necromunda is it's people and not it's shiney castle in the sky." Modesty paused again, nodding as the voxcaster flipped to a view of the throne sitting atop the clouds, alone in the darkness of night, "This is what is left of the Governor's palace, and so shall it remain under my term. The Governor will reside with the people within the Hive itself under the protection of it's own." She paused again as the screen flipped back to her, adjusting her hair one last time as she spoke more softly, bearing a more genuine smile than she had in so long. "My time to prepare your soon to be Governor is short and my time to offer what I can to make this world what glory it should be is as well. I need Necromunda's faith and I need it's people to help guide me to it's place among the stars once again. I will not promise you that I am the best you deserve but I will do all I can to be all you need." Modesty looked down, mouthing something to herself before looking back up again to the Voxcaster. "My operations will exist in the middle hive under the protection of allies within the revolution, my door is open to every voice and every concern, even if it is one of hatred and disdain. Live in the light of the Emperor Necromunda, he has shown he wishes it by your salvation."

So did Modesty's operation begin. Still confined to her chair she made no admonishments for anything more refined or elegant than the two wheeled common chair found in many hospitals and wards. As true to her word the houses that aided in stopping the destruction of Necromunda found their rewards. To house Goliath forever was their place honored as "Guardians of Necromunda" and as Kalta's personal escort and bodyguards as well as chiefs of security. House Delaque's rewards were more subtle but as rewarding in the years to come. Granted a secretive position the house that was once bane to Fleury was made the head of internal affairs of Necromunda, sent to root out and hunt down possible heretical and illegal operations that were against the Emperor and Necromunda itself. With Kalta's aid as she could given her pregnancy in her first nine months as well as her broken legs in her first six, she helped guide them with an almost perfect care to rooting out old and new enemies.

Modesty gave birth to a pair of twins and soon after went under reconstructive surgery given the need to have them removed via cesarean section due to the size of both children. So Samuel and Sasha Silvereski were born and given the name of their father in a community hospital and allowed to the public as Modesty both partially during and after the procedures continued to garner deals with various heads of organizations, houses, and even personal people that her security had allowed close enough to continue the regeant's "people first" image. Many considered it unfortunate that she still recovered at the hospital as her and many of the once lower houses had finished what they called the "Modest Action" which empowered the communities of the hive to elect a voice to represent them and their needs to officials. While many felt this would only lead to corruption the sight of seeing their elders in each of the hives areas being taken seriously for once by both the haughty and proud rich nobles and some of the more illicit ones hand in hand shed an ideal that perhaps the "Modest Reagent" as she was named would bring the change so promised.

Year Two

Still recovering from the birth and finally limping with a cane on her feet, Modesty took a more direct approach in the causes she had been pushing. Surprisingly ever more shrewd and clever than some remember her to be, Modesty seemed to have the proper words to say and the proper timing to make ends meet. During the first quarter she had arranged an agreement with Sor'rel's family and brought in a new alliance of trade to the planet through their contacts. The A Grade death cult also provided troops and more bodyguards to her personal escort and to replace the losses during the purging. Ferrus now starting to grow older followed his sister's footsteps quietly for the time being, still unsure to many if the two had patched up so much time apart or the animosity that might exist from Kalta's actions, Modesty took no chance of doing anything other than preening and preparing him firsthand for his soon to be role. In private her lessons remained ever so in the importance of standing for the people and for the change that needed to be done to stop corruption and heresy from ruling the hearts of men again. His influence however pushed her to promote a "contest" to design her new look amongst the population. Ferrus's dislike of his sister parading about in common clothes while both in important meetings and in common greetings amongst crowds led to a buzz of the top designers and even young girls sending in their haphazard designs in dataslates, flooding operations for weeks with the entries. Modesty's personal choice came true much to the dreams of a young woman named Anna Marie Me'LePaughn, only 12 years old she and her family were brought to see the design through, the young girl even taking the time to do Modesty's hair herself in what many considered to be her true sign of a desire to change. The Anna Marie as her hairstyle was known became a fad amongst the nobles and lower hives alike.

With no signs of Julie's improvement Modesty put on hold a deal with Sor'rel's family about an arranged marriage between the second oldest and Julie. Not wanting to keep them waiting for an unknown amount of time she instead offered them more work within Delaque's and the Red Redemption operations under Kaylin Ghent and Father Sturk. Continuing to keep the heresy at a minimum and quietly removed.

Year Three

With two years left to go and more to do, Modesty planned her year long venture into the stars to renegotiate contracts and garner new ones from her acquaintinces made through her time in the Inquisition. She made her rounds and despite a few assassination attempts survived unscathed with her children. Constantly in communique with Kaylin to keep an eye on Ferrus in her absence she and the twins found a nice bit of time to vacation and relax, perhaps for a short time the ability to be normal and common was sent back secretly by Delaque agents to the population of Necromunda, vox casted for them to see the truly modest side of their ruler. While some older alliances failed under Modesty's new ideals and passed off as "new age crap" a great many houses and systems starving for a chance to help fuel the jewel of the Imperium that was Necromunda offered a great deal of contracts that Modesty seemed to flow easily with. Many of her workers began to notice a calm come over the once tense and uneasy woman, although she seemed to grow distant and many wondered if she had started to find her wanderlust once again in the stars.

Year Four

What was once to be a year of travel ended in a year and a half as Modesty took the twins to Valhalla, presenting them before the rulers there as the children of Commissar Vladimir Silvereski, regaining his honor there with his progeny enlisted in the Schola Progenium as was the tradition of the Valhallan people. For her selfless gift many claim was done more in love than duty, she worked hand in hand to promote the ideals of a new age among the Valhallans. With this task done she began her journey back to Necromunda and to catch up on the last part of her tenure. During this time her rehabilitation with her legs and back had been completed and she would walk before the people of Necromunda with the gait of authority many had not been able to see with her limping prior.

Year Five

Modesty's final year was spent more in the backlight of Ferrus, her time away and the strict hand of Kaylin and Father Sturk helped him to mature a great deal in his role. Modesty found in her return that Ferrus had made progress of his own in many of the goals his older sister had wished and so in her final year Modesty stood to the right of Ferrus, letting him begin to take control and understanding of his full position before she began to receed into the background of authority, finally kneeling it at his feet upon his birthday and full legal age of adulthood.


Without a doubt the change in Modesty was apparent. Gone did it seem the swaggered foul mouthed hussey was. A woman beginning the early middle years of her life (thought despite physical appearances in part due to her children still made her seem a fair few years lesser) with an elegance, keen mind, and collected aloofness that was transformed over the short term of her time as ruler of Necromunda. While some questioned her understanding and general shrewdness of the various things she had been able to do none could argue the change she had brought or the impressionability she had made for someone so young and meek in stature. Forever emblazoned as the "Modest Reagent" of Necromunda, Kalta Fleury carries an air with her now that seems to exhume the strength many felt she never had before.

Last edited by Admin on Mon Mar 15, 2010 5:23 pm; edited 2 times in total
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Inquisitor Bartholomew

Inquisitor Bartholomew

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PostSubject: Re: Into the Breach: Intermission   Tue Mar 09, 2010 8:42 pm

Year One

Vladimir knew only darkness. Commissar Vladimir Silvreski had seen many wars, and fought in many battles. Unwavering in his steadfastness, he had seen to the execution of the wicked on many worlds. He did his best, with his admittedly limited intellect and lack of guile.

His last memory was the lance. The white hot pain, the screaming death of the creature from the orbital bombardment and a haze of white haloed in red were his only memories. The hallow has long since faded and the white has dimmed to black, and he for the thousandth time wondered if perhaps this was death; his eternal reward, his last condolence, not to fight one last battle beside the Emperor, but peace. A gentle slumber, here, in the blackness, he had lost time.

He felt the eyes of eternity on him and he trembled, for he knew he was being judged. It was a light which seared deep into him, and for once he knew pain again. Perhaps the emperor was angry with him and sought to punish him, as the white light returned, bathing him in its radiance, and pain shot through him like a las bolt and he convulsed, unable to block out the searing pain. The halo also returned, threatening to overrun the white. Every time it would ebb it would strike again, the pulse hurting his mind as it shocked him once more. It felt like someone was hitting him with a shock maul, but finally, the red ebbed, and the darkness slowly closed in. though this time it was not blackness, but a soft, velvety grey.

The blackness closed in on him several times before the light battled it back, and he began to wonder, if perhaps the blackness was the enemy, and the light was bringing him home. He fought back, slogging through his memories, pushing through his regrets, feeling the blackness pull him like a tentacle, dragging him back, but his will would not falter, and he pushed forward. He could hear someone screaming his name, and he pressed onwards until the white light consumed him.

But the white light was all there was. Then, darkness.

Modesty was exhausted, and could do nothing but hold his burnt, limbless, faceless form. The smell of cooked flesh rose in the air, and they had to cut a slit where his mouth was, so that he could breathe. Durring the flight he had flatlined, and they were working to bring him back with electro paddles, shocking his heart into submission, but the mighty muscle had at last overworked itself.

Over the first year, operation after operation was maintained on a daily basis to prevent his slipping into death. A new, bionic heart was implanted, synth-blood constantly being pumped through his body trying to battle the shock, luckily, his respitory system was already a hyperbolic chamber and perhaps was the reason he still yet lived.

Bionic eyes were drilled into bone and tissue fused together from the intense heat of the blast halo, and he was kept permanently to a life support system built into the wall. He never stirred, and it was thought he may be brain dead.

Servitors were harvested and their parts used to piece him back together, bit by bit.

He awoke only twice during that time, and showed no memory of either instance later. The first was when he was called on to look upon his twin children, and hold them. The second was when Modesty was lonely, as it was only her voice he seemed to respond to. Each time he awoke he showed no memory of the previous time he woke, and spoke disjointed and past was confused with present.

Year TWO

The light came and went, the darkness was all that was constant. His dreams swirled with images of the past and present. He dreamed vividly about children playing, about Katya smiling down on him from the Emperors side, and of Modesty. His dreams ranged from serene to erotic, and nightmares pockmarked his beautiful landscape. He struggled, he ached for something he was missing. He needed something but he could not think of what.

His fingers itched, and he felt the need to pull a trigger, to survey a line, to bring the enemies of the emperor to their knees. He needed it, deep down, he had to fight, he knew it. Nothing could sate his desires, no dreams of glories past, no memories or vivid dreams. His very body ached, his soul deep inside. He needed something. He needed war.

So it was with great irritation that he remained in the darkness, quiet, pondering, itching and without release. Tormented by watching wars wage before him and being unable to help, to do something to turn the flow of battle, to bring justice to the enemies of the Emperor, was his greatest punishment. He longed to wade into the battle, but instead, he had to sit and watch himself wade through, unable to stop the enemies that assailed himself.

Time passed, time which he had lost all meaning of. He remembered waking up, or, at least, he thought he did. When she called his name, he answered. But truly, he did not remember if it were a dream or reality. He remembered children, something about Valhalla.

And so he prayed.

“I offer my life to the Emperor
I pray he accepts it
I offer my strength to the Emperor
I pray he redresses it
I offer my blood to the Emperor
I pray it quenches His thirst
I offer my body on the alter of the battlefield
I pray e grants me a noble death
I pray for his protection,
As I offer all that I am”

Year Three was filled with yet more operations, every six weeks new servitor parts vat grown and shipped in to sustain his life, and still no visible recovering of his mental state. The group however unconvinced that it is conceivable that the inscrutable Vladimir could possibly be lost to them refused to allow the tech magos to pull the plug, and insisted he continue his operations until the commissars full recovery.

Crashing eighteen times the second year, he seemed all but lost before one night on late watch Kaylin heard words whispered from his lips
“I offer my life to the Emperor
I pray he accepts it
I offer my strength to the Emperor
I pray he redresses it
I offer my blood to the Emperor
I pray it quenches His thirst
I offer my body on the alter of the battlefield
I pray e grants me a noble death
I pray for his protection,
As I offer all that I am”

It was then that the efforts were doubled, and hope began to spring again. His recovery though tentative seemed unavoidable, and the unbreakable commissar appeared to be slowly coming back to them. The operations continued, and finally he stabilized and was cleared from immediate danger.


“I don’t know why he wont wake up”

“All systems are nominal, the activation light is amber. It should be green or red”

“If its red it means get out of the way”

“Yes magos”

“He won’t wake up. Its as if he is willfully remaining silent. Have we offended him Magos?”

“Perhaps, let us offer more of the holy liquid. Continue your prayers.”

And so they prayed.

“With your strength you protect me
With my care I repair you
With sacred oil I appease you
Be quiet, good spirits,
And accept my benediction”

Year 3 was an exercise in patience for those who love him. He was active, at least, mentally, and physically, his body was capable. Checked and rechecked, he spent the entire year in a coma like state that none could explain. Even he has no memory of the time, and as the year moved quickly for Modesty, she did not have the time to see him. It seemed that, indeed, only she could rouse him.

A Tech Priest and a team of technicians were put together to constantly watch him and tend to his needs, his physical attributes now more machine than man, he was venerated as holy by the adeptus mechanicus.



The sound of her voice lifted him from his slumber.

“I seek the voices of my mistresses, and three they be, two still live”

“It’s me Vladimir”

“You are not Katya”

“No, I am Kalta”

“I am awoken, my love”

Year Four was an exercise of mental consideration, and daily, Modesty would see to him and try to piece together his memory, though daily it seemed he would forget when he would wake again. However, over time, his therapy seemed to pay off, and slowly he would remember that the day before she had seen him. Still, however, he seemed to be confused with dates and times and events, asking about people who were dead, and threatening to kill people he had already killed.

However, with his awakening, they began preparing him once more for war. Slowly they began piecing together his body with the tools he would need to be successful, Funded mostly by his private funds but also funded by the Fleury family holdings. Beyond the necessary systems to keep him alive, he was placed with extra heavy armor, Modesty knowing his fighting style, and his penchant for injury.


“Why have you awoken me? I am very tired, and my dreams bring me solace”

“War Vladimir. It’s time to go.”

“I awaken only to the voice of my mistress. And she has called. And so I answer”

The amber light of his eye flickered and slowly grew green, then the iris widened, and then tightened; what was a large, seeking green or amber was now a tiny angry dot of red. He stepped forward and pulled himself from the cables which connected him to the chair which sat where his bed once did. “Show me to thy enemies, O Emperor, and let me crush them”

They followed him as his heavy steps, though dimmed by strummers as they were, echoed in the corridor. “Where is Katya, I told her to meet me”

“Katya is still dead, Vladimir” said a patient voice

“Da. Da, I remember” his metallic tinged voice echoed in its own mechanics, the sound of hissing hydraulics releasing steam as he paused. “You are Kalta” he asked, his bionic eye looking to her, his face a mask of melted flesh and cables crawling across his visage, under his jawline and into his skull.

“Y..Yes…” she said, trying to suppress a sob. They did the best they could for him. He looked around the ship, his mechanical eye widening, the lens turning and focusing.

“We go to fight Orks, then? Is the new Inquisitor finished with his battle plans?”

Modesty felt sick. “No Vladimir”

“Ah” he said, accepting it. Who could tell what his partially bionic mind would be thinking as he turned from her, heavy steps treading on the ships floor. “Who are they?” he thumbed at the Tech Priest and his retinue, who still watched them from the door.

“They are from Necromunda. They came to watch over you.” Said Modesty, measured, cool, trying to prevent some great shock from befalling him and causing more harm than good.

“Ah! Necromunda!” he said, growling deeply and stopping in mid step “We go to wreak vengeance on the ones who have hurt my dear sweet Modeski” he said, rising his large, silver hand and making a fist, the halo of energy crackling and reflecting off the walls. His rage began to build as his eye once more became a tiny dot of red light. “Where is she? Have you seen my love?”

“I…I’m Modesty Vladimir” she said, nearly sobbing but holding herself together quite well. “I’m right here. And we left Necromunda, our job there is done”

“Ah” he said, his eye fading to green, opening. He looked at her now as if seeing her for the first time, as if his memory was fragmented. The pause was long and silent. “Then we must assemble the team” he said, turning from her and stomping down the hall. “Call Kaylin, Coppertop, Mina. Call Grendel, Sila and Benson, we have an iron man to kill.”

The memories of the past seemed to conjoin, to condense within him. “Has anyone seen Katya?”

How could she tell him, that Coppertop, Sila, Mina and Grendel were dead? Could she tell him he killed two of them himself for heresy? What kind of damage would that cause? She looked back to the Tech Priest, and went to him, hopeful.

Year five was a year of therapy and heartbreak. He spent the entire year relearning and relearning everything he had forgotten, and his mind slowly growing stronger and he began to retrain his new body. It wasn’t TOO far removed from the bulkiness of the mining helot augmentation, and he found that though they were a mystery to him he was slowly mastering the implants of his new found body

By the end of the year he was able to walk and use the new implants given to him, and fight effectively once more. Regaining his balance was a daily struggle, but eventually it became second nature to him. Though still, he could only be roused by the voice of his true loves.
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PostSubject: Re: Into the Breach: Intermission   Sun Mar 28, 2010 4:19 pm

Light filled her eyes, the blazing brightness of a sun as she covered her eyes with her leather clad hand. Silence soon faded as the slow rumble of voices then firearms filled her ears. She paused, trying to collect her bearings as a piercing sound filled the air, "duck back!" a man's voice called to her as she contorted backwards, her eyes catching the rusted steel of an axe flicking blood on her as it cut into the rock wall beside her. The Ork snarled as the overwhelming sensation faded, she felt the pistols in her hands, her ears burning with the different nuances of noise they could determine from bones snapping to different calibers of firearms reloading amongst the screams and shouts. The Ork was quick and charged towards her, raising it's choppa mightily into the light of the sun as she looked about before her brown eyes narrowed, the lines appearing in her eyes as she noted the movements and paths around the ork and area, with her pompous smirk she moved forward, lowering one gun and letting the barrel come to life as a succession of bullets ripped into the ork's leg as she ducked, letting the waist of the monster hit her hip, shifting it upwards as it flung the beast up, her other pistol tracing up to send more auto fire into it's face and chest as she continued to follow the lines she could see, ducking quick as another choppa made it's way towards her, more shots being fired as blood spilled from it's guts. She stood, panting as she re focused, the sounds of the battle now dying as she felt a coldness fill her, the light of the sun fading as she shuddered, the same whistling heard as she ducked, feeling a bit of her hair fly free as she rolled and spun, aiming her pistols forward before her hands began to shake, her eyes widening in fear. "J-jul..." was all she could manage as she felt the blade enter near her heart, the cold yet burning steel cut through her back as her sister's eyes locked on hers, a wicked grin coming to Julie's lips as she spoke, "Didn't plan for this, did you sister?" Julie laughed as her eyes began to glow, her flesh melting away as Modesty watched in horror, tears rushing to her eyes as she felt her life beginning to fade amongst the darkness and the feeling of fluid around her as she let out another scream. Her hand clutched her chest, feeling no mark she panted to see the blue glowing run lights of her room. She ran her hand through her wavy hair as she curled her legs up on herself, holding to them as she looked out the plasteel view window to the stars. "He could be there...hidden away..." she murmured to herself, her small fingers clutching to the sheets around her as she looked into the slight reflection of the plasteel, her eyes glowing slightly as she peered about the room then moved to check the time before laying back down in silence, remaining awake as the day cycle began.

"Up early today madame?" the kindly older voice spoke in his usual hoarse tone as he smiled over to Modesty, sitting in a rather ornate robe at the table, her fingers tracing the images at her fingers as she slowly looked up to the elderly man. "Yes Arbald, forgive me...sleep has bee-" she paused as he spoke kindly "hard to find madame?" as he finished he placed his hand over hers, glancing at the images with her. "Do you have doubts about what you have done, madame?" Arbald asked as his grey orbs fixated on her expression, trying to read some sign of the woman in front of him. "I always will, but I will always remember that is what must be, because if it is not what good will it be for them to live on Necromunda?" Modesty spoke softly, a slight hesitance in her tone as Arbald squeezed her hand gently, giving her a comforting smile as he sat and poured her glass. "They have a great name then, a strong and stalwart father to be told stories of. Stories of how their mother without a selfish intent in her heart gave them his name and left them in his home for tradition and honor. Silvereski's, a good name, a strong one for them both I suppose..." the old man nodded as he looked away for a few moments, running his finger across his chin before looking back to her. "So is Fleury madame, I doubt they will not be shown Necromunda without their tutors pointing out that their mother led it to victory over the dark forces of chaos beside their father. The Modest Regeant, short of stature but stronger in resolve than any Goliath." Arbald chuckled as he patted her hand, slowly standing to move back to the kitchen. Modesty simply smiled and watched him leave before her eyes averted back to the images, looking at the babes with her at the medical clinic and a myriad of others aboard the ship and on Valhalla. Her hands flipped through the images for what seemed a long time, her brow furrowing as her mind raced back to those moments, vivid memories of her words and the sights and sounds, their beautiful green eyes burned forever into her mind as she finally sat the images down then sipped from her steaming cup, looking up to catch a glimpse of Arbald watching her before he returned to cooking. "He's right..." the voice inside her hand already begun on her again, "Why do you always side with him?" she murmured to herself, shaking her head as she closed her eyes and rubbed her temple and stood, making her way to the shower as she muttered some to herself, Arbald smirking then chuckling as she left where he could see. "I suppose they all get that way when they run a planet, just like her mother. Save she's nice to me of course..."

"Are you sure that's the paint clip madame?" Arbald asked timidly as he held up the target sign on the other side of the room, ducking it behind a few of the pieces of ornate furniture. "Arbald, come on, this isn't the weirdest or most dangerous thing I've asked you to do for me is it?" Modesty asked, spinning the loader into the revolver. "That is true madame, and you as of yet I have escaped any harm but this isn't good on my old back and knees." Arbald countered, slowly raising the target as the popping of high caliber shells rang with splattering on the target following suit. "Did you ever fall from 40 meters up and survive with only shattered legs Arbald?" Modesty quipped humorously, reloading the revolver as he crawled to grab the next target, the vox caster on the wall blurring as she muttered and ran over it it, picking up the bead and placing it to her ear as she unloaded more paint shells into the target. "Yes Jerom?" Modesty spoke casually as she tugged another loader from her webbing, poor Arbald groaning as he crawled towards the next target, modesty taking aim at him as he did. "I am pleased to alert the regent that necromunda remains in as good or better condition than when she has left. House Delaque has uncovered the leads you have sent us and rooted out two more chaos organizations in the lower hives. Your nose for such things has me at a disadvantage Kalta. It seems you haven't lost your smell of bad deals even being so regal." Jerom mused over the line as Modesty opened up another round into target. "Sh- on the leather one too...so glad this is washable paint. Sorry Jerom, decorating the cabin here. So all of those leads were good ones then?" She spoke calmly, setting the revolver back into her webbing and beginning to unfasten it as the mess of paint left Arbald shaking his head before he got to his feet and moved to the kitchen. "Most, a few were unable to be found but for the most part it seems like the efficiency of yourself and these other agents is astounding. Here I thought it was more the luck of the Fleury house but it seems the Emperor is with you and they." Jerom said in a more serious tone, Modesty meanwhile had sat at the table, donning her robe again as she picked up a dataslate. "I made alot of promises and what would I be if I didn't keep them Jerom? House Delaque now sits high and pretty doing what they do best and were graciously rewarded by the Imperium for their zealousness." Modesty spoke rather seriously, a brow raising as she listened. "You would've been a governor Kalta, not a regent." Jerom laughed as he continued in a good natured tone, "We will pray your brother learned a few things during your short stint Kalta. You did good, far better than even we expected since signing on." "Thanks Jerom and I think he'll be fine, just give him a bit. I will be there in about a week, two days to orbit and well, the usual layover. Quite a bit to catch him and all of you up on before he formally takes the throne."

"Have you given thought to what lays ahead for you, Operative Fleury?" The grumbled tone of the large man filled the office as Modesty remained standing in her usual formal attire. Her head remained bowed as the man in robes large hand filled the middle of the chair, gripping to it as he looked to her. "I do not Lord Jakraell, " she spoke softly, maintaining her rather modest demeanor. The older man let out a slight chuckle as he smiled to her, "No longer Jay to you I suppose. Such a strange sight to see what you're become. I never thought you'd survive the orks, seems I was wrong about your chances in the beginning." He paused now as Modesty looked up, a slight and familiar smirk coming to her lips as he looked back to her, seeming to return the amused expression. "No matter how much packaging you put something in, the same girl I pulled out of prison is there. Be glad to know that you will be rejoining your lover and compatriots soon. That itch you have to leave this role is soon at an end...the Emperor needs you all once again, and this time...we're going to see how good you really are."
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PostSubject: Re: Into the Breach: Intermission   Tue Mar 30, 2010 6:04 pm

First Year

When she wasn't on the hive sweeps or raids, Kaylin elected to stand redundant guard. She didn't consider it so--the choice of Modesty's bodyguards was a political one, and thus they were as suspect as anyone--but it was clear that however their regent was being protected it was effective enough. She would be the first to admit that she was better at killing people than she was from keeping them from being killed, but where the others had things to do and people to see while they were out and about on the planet proper, Kaylin did not. The Redemption movement was powerful, but still mostly political, and a pariah makes for a poor social guest. So when she was off duty she prayed, and spoke with Benson and the others when they had a moment, and watched Modesty from the shadows, and occasionally visited the reclamation chambers where they worked on the Commissar.

But that was her time off, which she took rarely. There was much to be done, and Kaylin was never one to leave an enemy lying in wait.

It was largely butcher-work; she felt at home. The hives were filled with enough heresy that was well known but tolerated for so long that it was as much as anything a matter of simply marching in and doing it. The targets had to be selected carefully, of course, but that was for the politicians to decide. For the first year, as soon as she recovered, she was as much a machine as ever. Targets were eliminated, crime dens were purged--the Modest Revolution's dirty work done under cover. She often acted independently--the red robes and bands of Redemptionists were nothing if not pointedly traceable, and there groups that needed removal without the public flair in a tightening state, but even then she found things...slightly hollow.

She had little of the political idealism or interest in the good of the people necessary to really care about what she was doing for anything more than the first month or so. And, there was no getting around it--they'd just battled an army of heretics, greater daemons and worked their way through most xenos horrors the galaxy had to offer. Cutting through gangs and crime lords just felt... routine.

Year Two

Apathy was a frightening prospect for Kaylin. Her hate was her strongest weapon, the fire that put her foreword into her enemies path and burned them to ashes...but it was hard to feel anything more than--boredom? She wasn't sure the word. As she worked through buildings filled with scum and gangsters and hive criminals, she just didn't care. They were heretics, and they were dealt with as such, but there was no challenge. They died if they stood before her, and occasionally got off a good shot, but it certainly wasn't clawing her way free free the throat of a daemon or tearing through necron steel. She was going to request a transfer to another activity, but upon hearing that Modesty intended for her to look after Ferrus she decided to stay. Boredom became reflection, and the knowledge that she would have a shaping hand on the young man who would one day become one of the most powerful men in the sector gave her pause, and so she forced herself to remain where she was. She still joined in the teams as often as she could, but it became more of a training exersize than anything else. Irreverent, perhaps, but training the Sorm agents gave her something to focus on, which she needed badly in the face of her waning interest. It passed slowly, in a crawl.

Year Three

Training Ferrus was a more interesting and involved task than she would have thought. Modesty was away, and while her instructions had been to 'look after him', she took a liberal approach to this. While she had no bearing on his political or social perspective, she made sure from the first time he she set him to the private training grounds she'd requisitioned for her team. He was, as she told him, going to be in an enviable and dangerous seat of power, and would thus be a target. She had no intention of having him rely entirely on a security team, and so she taught him what she could about her trade. She wondered, sometimes, what he thought of her--like any student with a particularly difficult and unyielding instructor, particularly one that may or may not have the authority to visit such indignities, she could see the anger in his eyes when she forced him into another set of movements or patterns, when she nicked him or struck him or proved his form weak. She wondered what she looked like in his eyes; she was not kind to him, at least while they were training, and they were very rarely training. But he became skilled with a blade, and learned to infiltrate when necessary, and to spot those infiltrated. She was not gentle, but he learned well and was made of stronger stuff (or turned into stronger stuff) than most nobles in his position. There were rumors that she even had him join in her unit of Sorm agents, which was swiftly becoming one of the more elite response units on Necromunda, in a few of their missions. The boy learned to keep silent about his trainings after a time, and Kaylin found herself drawing closer to the young heir. Still, when Modesty returned she knew that their time together was at an end, and faded into the background. She spoke with him, now and then, when he had time, but the political world was important enough that certainly jeopardizing it was not to be tolerated under more direct scrutiny.

Year Four

With Modesty returned and her job as steward done, she was about to consider looking for another post before the chance she was looking for occurred--a xenos ship identified as an Eldar corsair began plundering the trade routes relatively close to Necromunda, and Kaylin jumped at the chance. Leaving the second group of Sorm agents she'd been training to continue their duties, she convinced all but a few of the Sorm men to accompany her in persuit of the Eldar. With Ordo Xenos backing once again, glad to be in the fray proper once more, they set out in escort with the ships, waiting for the raids to occur. The Eldar struck infrequently, and it wasn't until they shifted tactics and instead stole away on one of the carrier ships itself that they were successful in intercepting the enemy. Why the Eldar were raiding the ships was never fully understood, but they obviously were not expecting to encounter serious resistance in their efforts. They were after something in particular, or so it seemed, as the boarding party was small and directed, clearing paths through the ship with hails of shuriken fire down the narrow corridors towards the engine room.

They did not expect Kaylin and her agents.

The first group of Eldar fell swiftly, caught off guard and in the open. Their distress calls, however, did not fall on deaf ears. As soon as they were dealt with the eldar attacked in force, the webway entrance in their boarding pods allowing them to flood from the point before defenses could even be properly administered. The battle aboard the ship went badly for the crewmen--the eldar displayed the perfection of their craft. But no matter the danger, Kaylin couldn't help but admit that her blood sang as she fought through the corridors, that when she saw them look upon her in terror, a psychic race staring into the face of abomination, that it didn't pull her foreword and make her feel alive again, as she realized she had during the frenzies of her younger days. It was perhaps that she was unused to having something to lose, or perhaps that she was drunk in the challenge of killing again, but she lead her team through the webway portal the Eldar used to board the ship.

Year 5

Ordo Xenos operatives Kaylin Ghent and Jassin Sorm were recovered from an Eldar escape pod broadcasting Inquisitorial Distress Signal Alpha65A by frigate Colum's Salvation. Operative Ghent was severely malnourished and sustained moderate but not life-threatening injuries. Operative Sorm was KIA, probably cause lacerations obtained during boarding, reported cause suicide. The Corsair vessel was reported destroyed, its captain deceased. Operative Ghent was sent to the Imperial Naval Facility IC#11.65.117 for training to facilitate the shift in team directive, and is currently fit for active duty.
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