Wait! It's dangerous out there, take two!

Aten will be spending his time fixing his damaged Necrons and adding gold/silver/platinum filigree to himself to reflect his new status.

"Due to the nature of moving so expediently through the warp he may only do so every five days of travel. Also cause balance."

During the first 5 days Baravyn looks into the future inquiring as to what they will find at the pirate station. Not having access to roll20 the big blue alien rolled using different dice and got a 70, which gives Baravyn 3 dos

The member 'snuffles' has done the following action : Dice Roll\'d

'd100' : 70

You see images of a decrepit station host to numerous ships from across the sector. One of these ships in particular stands out amongst the others. A dread hulk of a craft with spikes and blood red paint (if it's paint) commanded by an ominous and dark figure. Upon the station are pirates and other low lives who will not hesitate to gang up on those they perceive as week or less numerous. Across the hull you see a name "Cresivere"

"After weeks of rest (still not sure if Firsa got medical treatment), the captain of Tanurom is feeling much better and stands proudly in front of her captain's chair with her sword drawn and pointed passionately at the image of the station.

'Come fellows! Let's make some new friends!'"

Aten stands by the hallucinating Firsa, probably still in the hospital bed.  "Captain, Seer Baravyn reports that he is seeing images of the port in his mind, from his visions.  Hopefully we will arrive at the port soon."

"'Echem! Uhh, yes, of course. Well, that's what I would be doing if we were getting close.' Hopefully Firsa will recover from her concussion before they land at port."

Baravyn walks onto the bridge in the middle of the conversation, "We will be there soon, but I might be careful about the making friends part Captain. Besides the fact that pirates aren't exactly trustworthy people, we might have more problems than just that. Unless I am much mistaken there may be some particularly troublesome fellows at this station."

Before any responses can be made, a sound goes out over the ship "Arrival at destination in one hour. Repeat, arrival at destination in one hour. Emergence personel required at the bridge." (It's been five days)

"'Troublesome fellows hmm?' Firsa draws from her knowledge of pirates and pirate-like endeavours in an attempt to retrieve information relevant to the name Cresivere, but unfortunately comes up empty."

"'So soon?!' With the shorter travel time, Firsa hasn't even recovered one point of damage. 'I'm afraid I don't have the energy to venture into port just yet. I would send Zuenzyr in my place, but he's in a similar situation. I suggest we wait in orbit until we've recovered enough. In the mean time, you all are welcome to explore the docks as long as you keep a low profile and stay out of trouble.' The last part Firsa says with a wink.


Her head definitely isn't on straight yet."

"A low profile may be difficult for me, Captain. It is rare for Necrons to leave their home dynasty, much less a full Necron Lord. I must travel in my necessary grandeur of course. Gathering information in a suitably discreet manner may prove challenging." Over the past 5 days, Aten's appearance has changed. His body is covered in a gold and silver inlay, sparkling in the light and revealing the wealth and power of a Necron lord. Rubies, diamond, and sapphires encrust his form, and he is wrapped by an even more ornate cape, which constantly ripples due to the miniature anti-grav generators he has had installed in the silken fabric.

The seer Baravyn goes to the bridge and using his skills he successfully exits the Tanorum fifty VU's away from the station. Upon arrival the augury arrays reveal the signatures of five ships docked with the station with another two around it. The station appears to be circling a death world. As the ship moves in a vox signal comes in demanding identification and reason for arrival lest they "blow the prissy Eldar out of space"

Dubshredda thinks to himself {"Stinkin 'umies bein so Kondesendin."}. He uses his genetic knowledge of technology to operate the voxcaster and respond "Dis is da Tanurom ya 'umies. We ain't no rats 'nd dats all dats gonna matta fer you."

Responding over the vox caster "Um, hold on a second I need a translator." You here some movement over the vox and some loud banging when a new voice responds

"Oy fleshbags! Theyz tells me youz got an Orkz up inz zere. Why da Eldar gots da Orkz witz them? Or didza manage ta loot a fancy Eldar shipz?"

"'Dere's only a few pointy ears on left on board. Me 'finks they on da run or sumtin. Wutz all dis permissions bout anywayz? Sum kinda silly 'umie 'ting? Well 'dey should let us in kuz we're da bigges!"

"Youz aint's da biggest ere ya squiglover. Anybodyz that wantz ta get onza station gotta report in. Lest Borges comez and haz a wordz with ya. An' trustz meze, youz don't want Borges coming andz talkinz to yaz" replies the ork over the vox

The continued irritation of dealing with this 'umie loving ork drives out the orkish in Dubshredda (speaking in ork): "ALRIGHT ALRIGHT SO WUTS WE GOTTA DO?!"

The Ork yells back "YOUZ GOTZA SPEAK YER BUISINESS! BORGES EXPECTS IZ TOLLZ! GOTZA PAY UP! ELDARZ ABOARD OR NOTS!"

Aten interrupts. "Excuse me, Dubshredda, perhaps I can take over this more sensitive part of the negotiations. Would you mind allowing me to speak over the vox?"

The ork continues yelling over the comms "DONTZ LETS A SQUISHY PROSSIEZ ELDR TELLZ AN ORKS WHATZ TO DO!"

"DAM RIGHT! We 'ere ta get sum krew 'nd wordz 'bout wur ta find booty, ARR! Sure sure, da pointy earz 'ull pay yur tollz." Dubshredda laughs to himself as if he's accomplished something cunning. He faces the others on the bridge "TAKE 'ER IN BOYZ!"

Without needing anyone to "Take 'er in" the ship begins to lurch forward towards the station. Within no time the ship is docked with the station and you receive a message to await the arrival of the "dock authorities" in the landing bay. You are expected to have a way to pay the toll ready for the authorities otherwise they will take what they deem apropriate from your ship.

Outside through the windows of the Tanorum you can make out the heavy modifications to this station. What must have at one point been an Imperial listening post has been put together as a port by Jerry rigging large hunks of metal to the structure and forming them into floors and docking areas. At the "top" of the station you can make out an enormous cruiser that matches the description of Baravyns vision

"Alright tin 'ead." Dubshredda moves his hand to suggest he is letting him pass. "Yur turn ta help pay da toll or wuteva."

"Before Aten, Baravyn, and Dubshredda leave Tanurom, Firsa gives each a vox caster if they do not already have one. 'Now kids, if you run into any trouble, any trouble at all, just call home. I might be sleeping so it could take a bit for me to pick up.'

With Firsa and Zuensyr both out, Baravyn is the defacto leader of Tanurom. For the purposes of paying the toll, the ship has lots of shiny bits that could probably be polished to look really nifty. Other than that, there's most likely some extra weapons lying around like mono-swords. If they still aren't biting we can offer a torpedo or two."

Baravyn frowned, "Are you planning on leaving me on board the Tanurom?"

Dubshredda rounds up an appropriate number of orks.

[How many is "appropriate?"]

"'No no, not at all. While the landing party, including you, is exploring the port, you will represent the highest ranking active member of Tanurom, so you will have the last word in decision making. Of course, if something truly monumental were to happen, I would hope that you would consult with me. Baring that, the beings of Tanurom should regard you as though you were me until I'm right in the head again.'"

Dubshredda sets off with his "appropriate" number of boyz and no regard for the Eldar-Necron hierarchy on the Tanurom.

Watching the orks leave Baravyn asks, "Do we have any plan to deal with Dubshredda? If we aren't careful he could bring the entire station down on our heads."

"'Don't worry about Dubshredda, he can take care of himself. Plus he's with his own people, at least some what. It will be fine, after all, I told everybody to stay out of trouble.' Firsa dismisses, winking again on the last phrase."

And so the Ork goes off. He grabs some boyz (who cares how many? Orks sure don't!) and heads straight off into the station. He is greeted by a wonderful sight that almost brings a tear to his Ork eye. When he enters and blunders past some squishies heading into the ship he sees the chaotic and unruly situation about the station. Up on scaffolding sit men getting shitfaced hollering insults at people walking past with graffiti sprayed on every wall. Over the comms plays loud music near the bars that are about every one hundred feet and brawls happen all over. Among the population you see some fellow greenskins, humans, and the occasional Stryxis. Many a group are carrying large boxes of cargo to and from and you can spot a number of market stalls. Overall the place is absolutely filthy, even by Ork standards, but the grime gives it that pirate and freedom character.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Back on the Tanorum, as everyone discusses business with Firsa in the infirmary a message over the comms goes out "Captain, this is Illocitere. The toll collectors have arrived at the landing bay. They seem displeased by the lack of ship officials present."

Baravyn sighs, "I guess I should go head them off, Aten do you want to come? After all misery loves company."

Dubshredda is giddy with excitement. First things first is to placate his need for fighting with booze and merriment. He heads through the thick of the crowd towards the nearest rowdy bar. Along the way he growls at his boyz to not make trouble for him, granted trouble for him is catastrophic for others.

"Very well, Baravyn. Let us proceed to the landing bay." Aten gathers an escort of 50 warriors and moves towards the landing bay. He makes sure to keep the rest of his men in nearby hallways, just in case a firefight breaks out.

The boyz give the usual reply of "we wons cause trouble boss" (they will) and they go off in groups around the station. Dubshredda begins pushing his way through the crowd and when he reaches the nearest bar he can see there's already a fight going on between two large muscular humans. You look over at a table and see some of your boyz and other Orks having a good time drinking. At another table you see a group of humans sitting comparatively quietly with a man in a large blue jacket with a pelt of some kind running down from his left shoulder. Alternatively there's bar stools

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Aten and Baravyn. When you arrive at the landing bay you see a group of seventy five armed men standing in a loose formation behind two other individuals. One is obviously a scribe with a dataset built into his arm and his hands replaced with tunes. His hunch is indicative of a long administrative career. The other person, who's a woman, stands six feet tall with a tight braid underneath a Captains cap. Her clothing appears to work hard to hide her feminine features as her embroidered jacket she doesn't have her arms through flows about her over a shirt with more guns strapped to it than seems anywhere near necessary. This one in particular seems pissed

Dubshredda is more kunnin' than most orks but he's spent far too long on board the peaceful pointy ear krooza to resist joining the fight. He walks slowly towards the brawl calling out "Let me get a piece uh dis!". (He's also kept almost all of his boyz with him, not to stop them from causing trouble but to make himself look powerful. Hopefully the gestalt WAAAGH! field can handle 10~30 boyz.)

Not daunted by this show of force, or by the pissed off gun happy leader, Baravyn proceeds towards the group stopping in front of the two more distinguished individuals. "My name is Baravyn and I speak for the captain of this vessel, how can I help you?"

The "gun happy leader" moves with a surprising speed and reveals a bolt pistol planted squarely on your forehead. In a loud voice she shouts at you

"Just go the hell do you think you are you prissy bitch! You come onto MY station and you ignore MY orders causing a waste of MY precious time?! You will have to pay fine the fine for this! Not only do you ignore my orders but you being THOSE fucks with you too?!"

With her arm now in plain view you can see metal grafted along the bone and muscles in her arm forming some sort of exoskeleton.

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Dubshredda, as you walk up with your boyz the humans jeering step out of the way. With your shout one of the fighters gets distracted and looks towards you and receives a hard haymaker across his jaw knocking him flat on the floor unconscious. The victor grabs a towel from the sideline and walks right up to you and you two smash your heads together. The man says through gritted teath

"You want in on this action Ork? You tryin' to steal the glory from the crew of the Velixes? You want in, you better anti up cause the winner of these brawls gets to fight Borges. There's a claim on this whole station for anyone who beats her!"

With the announcement of the prize the entire crowd jeers

"SQUIG YEA I DO!" Dubshredda violently removes his armor and carefully places his hat over the pile of tattered junk he wears on a regular basis. "'Ey you boy! Watch me stuff or 'ull get a poundin'." With that, Dubshredda steps forward in full half naked green glory. He pounds his chest with both his fists and points to his muscled and very macho opponent: "NO MORE WORDZ, NOW WE FIGHT!". Dubshredda charges in and sends a wide swing at his foe. His foe sees the swing coming a mile away and readies his guard. The blow lands and sends a wave of pain through the man's arms. Just as he steps back to recover from the impact a greentide of quick but threatening strikes assault him from all angles. With each successive blow the audience hears a painful crack. By the time Dubshredda's follow up barrage is done the man is on the floor unconscious and broken, but not dead. "DAS RIGHT! KAPTIN DUBSHREDDA WANTZ ANUTHER CHALLENGE!" to which the Kaptin's boyz respond "WAAAGHHHH!!!".

Not cowed by the bolt pistol pressed into his forehead, Baravyn responds evenly to the 'gun happy leader', "As I have already said my name is Baravyn and I represent the captain of this vessel. That answering the question of 'the hell do you think you are', as for the rest of it I can only offer my apologies as to this misunderstanding. We received no orders from the station aside from being told that we would have to pay a docking fee, which is what I'm here to do, so if you gave any other orders we did not receive them and so were unable to comply. If your mad about us being late in greeting you then I apologise for that as well, we had just received word that you arrived and came to greet you as soon as we could. As for the 'fucks' I assume you mean the orks that just left the vessel, as you can see from the state of our vessel they are a handful for us as well and I apogise for any trouble that they are causing."

The mans crewmates pick the broken man up carefully onto a stretcher. The man wakes up coughing blood as he's being carried away and you hear him shout to you through laughter "Good fight greenskin!" Stepping out of the crowd comes an Ork Kommando who sticks his knife into a table. He looks right at you and says "I'llz fightsa! I'll shows you what real greenz looks like!"

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Baravyn, by the time you have finished your words the face of the woman in front of you is red with fury. In one quick move she flips the pistol around in her hand so she holds the barrel and the but has been made into a club and she hits you right across your face with an extremely surprising amount of force. The impact knocks you a meter back onto the floor and it feels like your cheek bone may be broken. Still red with rage, she shouts at you

"BULSHIT!!! I know for a fact you were instructed to meet here and you have the audacity to talk to me like that to my face on MY station!!! I'll have your ship blown to pieces and feed its remains to the sun if you speak to me like that again!!! Your toll has just been doubled from the already tripled fine you piece of shit!!! I don't care about orks, I care about those fucking metal husks you dare to bring here!!!"

[you take 9 damage to the head]

Dubshredda cracks his knuckles and grins. "Bring it on ... greenskin." He stands a little more upright to show off his large frame and lets out a bestial roar.

[Intimidate check, and it should be noted Dubshredda is not hulking yet.]

The big blue alien looks upset, "am I not allowed to dodge?"

"It's not recommended but you may attempt to"

the big blue alien asks, "instead of dodging the whole thing can Baravyn roll a dodge skill check to minimize the damage but still get smacked? Like maybe rolling off the punch so while he still gets hit and goes flying it does less damage?"

"Nope"

Baravyn sighed as he rose to feet, dusted himself off, then turned to face the 'gun happy leader' again. "We were not told what time you would be here, and I was engaged in other matters when we were informed of your arrival, specifically trying to take care of the eccentric captain and the rather obnoxious orks. I came as soon as I could, despite this being too little too late I do apologise. I was unaware that this station did not welcome necrons, if you have issue with them I'm sure that Aten here can answer any of your questions and address your concerns. May I ask though what did we due to incur the triple fine in the first place? Perhaps understanding can resolve this situation."