Post by MagusKariusPrelune on Sept 6, 2004 19:13:51 GMT -5
Originally posted by Mefisto
Mefisto's wounds ached terrifically, despite the bionics fitted by Lockjaw after their conflict with the Necron. The magos had fashioned a remarkable piece of technology, but it was clear that his field of expertise was in Xenotech, and not bionics or medicine. The metal limbs were beautiful to look at, but drew the attention of all around, something Mefisto was keen to avoid. Rico had been dropped off by shuttle at a wilderness world, unable to contain his grief at the death of Terana he had lapsed into drug and alcohol crazed binges of violence proving dangerous to those in the vicinity. Rico could contact Josiah when he had worked out his rage.
The garrison sergeant looked warily at the figure ahead of him. He had claimed the bounties on almost twelve escaped penal colonists from the planet wide jailbreak of Cree VII, the evidence laid out in front of him, a pile of tattooed ears, and intra-thorassic identifier nodes, only able to be removed after death. That the prisoners had been lucky enough to stage their revolt as a shuttle had been present was unlucky, but there were rumours of outside influences as well. They were armed and dangerous, and this slim and wiry figure had brought in twelve bounties alone. The trooper credited the mans data-slate, and Mefisto left in silence, without asking for further bounties.
The surgeon was a recognized expert in his field, the lead of a research team in cell cloning techniques and advanced bionics. Here he was sat opposite an Inquisitor, one of the holy orders, requesting replacement limbs to match the natural ones, at cost price, but with no questions asked. He had given the surgeon his word and a flash of his seal that indicated he was not in the mood for bargaining.
The procedure had been a success, Mefisto had regretted casting aside the Xenotech influenced limbs, and their powers, but he was likely to be dealing with many who might not regard the appearance of such technology favourably in the near future, and he was keen to seek conflict in other ways. The limbs had been packaged up, Mefisto would return them to Lockjaw at their next meeting. The surgeon had asked for a name, something to record that the procedure had ever occurred. Mefisto had thought of executing him there and then for his insolence, but a sly smile spread across his face.
"My name is Vhogart, Muundus Vhogart. Put that on your records, sir"
Mefisto turned quickly, concealing his mirth in the folds of his headscarf and coat. The shuttle should be ready, he had business to attend to...
If one learns but does not think, one is lost; if one thinks but does not learn, one is in danger.
Mefisto's wounds ached terrifically, despite the bionics fitted by Lockjaw after their conflict with the Necron. The magos had fashioned a remarkable piece of technology, but it was clear that his field of expertise was in Xenotech, and not bionics or medicine. The metal limbs were beautiful to look at, but drew the attention of all around, something Mefisto was keen to avoid. Rico had been dropped off by shuttle at a wilderness world, unable to contain his grief at the death of Terana he had lapsed into drug and alcohol crazed binges of violence proving dangerous to those in the vicinity. Rico could contact Josiah when he had worked out his rage.
The garrison sergeant looked warily at the figure ahead of him. He had claimed the bounties on almost twelve escaped penal colonists from the planet wide jailbreak of Cree VII, the evidence laid out in front of him, a pile of tattooed ears, and intra-thorassic identifier nodes, only able to be removed after death. That the prisoners had been lucky enough to stage their revolt as a shuttle had been present was unlucky, but there were rumours of outside influences as well. They were armed and dangerous, and this slim and wiry figure had brought in twelve bounties alone. The trooper credited the mans data-slate, and Mefisto left in silence, without asking for further bounties.
The surgeon was a recognized expert in his field, the lead of a research team in cell cloning techniques and advanced bionics. Here he was sat opposite an Inquisitor, one of the holy orders, requesting replacement limbs to match the natural ones, at cost price, but with no questions asked. He had given the surgeon his word and a flash of his seal that indicated he was not in the mood for bargaining.
The procedure had been a success, Mefisto had regretted casting aside the Xenotech influenced limbs, and their powers, but he was likely to be dealing with many who might not regard the appearance of such technology favourably in the near future, and he was keen to seek conflict in other ways. The limbs had been packaged up, Mefisto would return them to Lockjaw at their next meeting. The surgeon had asked for a name, something to record that the procedure had ever occurred. Mefisto had thought of executing him there and then for his insolence, but a sly smile spread across his face.
"My name is Vhogart, Muundus Vhogart. Put that on your records, sir"
Mefisto turned quickly, concealing his mirth in the folds of his headscarf and coat. The shuttle should be ready, he had business to attend to...
If one learns but does not think, one is lost; if one thinks but does not learn, one is in danger.