Ship’s Log of the Rogue Trader Ship Hammer
Lord Captain Viktor Khal, Commanding
///Access File: 9-6-802M.41///
After a tedious but uneventful expedition my crew and I managed to uncover the fabled glove of the Imperial Saint, Ferris the Bull. It is understandable if you don’t recognize the name. Ferris the Bull was a minor saint of the Calixis Sector known more for his truancy from the Schola he attended than his rather spectacular and messy death at the hands of a Demon Prince that qualified him for sainthood. Still, he does have some admirers amongst the more rotund members of the Ecclesiarchy and his glove promised to fetch a respectable sum.
Upon arriving, I expected the usual noisy Imperial customs officials to descend upon my vessel like bulimic piranha after a purge cycle, but there was nothing. The skies had some transport traffic, but none of the Arbiter or military vessels one usually associates with an Imperial World. Bob’s suspicions were aroused immediately and I have learned to trust the old bonehead’s instincts in such matters. The Hammer’s scanners decided that this was a good time to throw a tantrum and spent most of the day in a corner sulking.
We didn’t have long to indulge our growing unease before the local Abbot contacted me to request a face to face meeting. I’m not against such meetings but I prefer to hold the high ground so I invited him to the Hammer to view the merchandise. He refused, as I half expected, but rather than be defiant or insulted he seemed nervous….that tingling in my ponytail was growing exponentially. I agreed with some reluctance and promptly filled the shuttle with my two best warriors: Kalm, of course and the Bas, whose hammer alone has the death sentence in three systems.
Our approach showed a landscape scarred by battle and if my unease grew any stronger my head was going to explode like a puppy next to a Chaos Sorcerer. As we landed, a Veteran Sister of Battle ran to our shuttle extolling our courage for coming to the monastery and entreating us to follow. I hate being duped, if I’m not the most cleaver person in the room, everyone else had best be working for House Khal or well on their way to an early grave….somebody was going to die messily for this one. She led us to the Abbot who, unsurprisingly, turned out to be a rotund slug of a man who was desperate to escape the planet with as many valuables and cronies as he could take off with.
Apparently this world was in a state of rebellion against the Imperium and the populace was systematically killing every priest and official they could lay hands on. Given the exalted specimen before me, I couldn’t entirely bring myself to blame them. My sympathies were quickly crushed by self interest when I learned that the rebels had placed Medusa Anti-Aircraft tanks in the woods around the monastery to shoot us down as soon as we fork-lifted the fat fools on to the shuttle. The Sister was able to give us a general area to look for the rebels who would have to be dealt with before I began exacting creative revenge upon my bejeweled annoyance.
Kalm had been listening from his/her/its concealed place in the shuttle and once he/she/it received the general area, fine Xeno that he/she/it is, began to move to track down our new foes. We soon came upon two particularly inept PDF troopers on patrol. The Bas, while perhaps not his intention, managed to be particularly adept in inspiring capitulation in the leftmost of our erstwhile adversaries and Kalm quickly subdued the other. A brief interrogation revealed the general locations of the batteries with enough specificity for Rojer and Kataline to track the locations from orbit. I ordered the coordinates relayed to Jak and my Number One aboard the Hammer so they might strike the further emplacement from orbit while we assaulted the nearer.
Kalm made a marvelous distraction by causing some sort of hallucination in one of the PDF troops, interesting ability that, which allowed the Bas and I to circle around the back of the Medusa, effectively splitting our adversary’s attention in half. The soldiers soon perished in Plasma Flame and gory hammer strikes. We were salvaging everything of value including the Medusa, when Kataline voxed that a flotilla of Warships were approaching the planet at speed. My years as a raider had taught me Warships rarely showed up to throw the kind of surprise parties one wanted to attend. The Fat Abbot insisted that we load himself, two of his even fatter, if you can imagine, cronies and as many of the artifacts and valuables from the monastery as we could load in the lighter. I obliged with a grin and a wink to Kalm.
The Warships soon turned out to be an Inquisitorial Flotilla come to purge the world below in fire for their sins. I can’t help but note that the Inquisition isn’t nearly as entertaining on this side of the Rosette.
Most of the vessels were too busy gleefully purging the heretics, their families, and any innocent bystanders in the sector that the Hammer nearly flew away unscathed until a Destroyer spotted us and gave chase. In an even fight between a Destroyer and a Frigate I’ll take the Frigate any day, especially when that Frigate is the Hammer, but Bob tweeted in my ear that this was a Golden Opportunity to expand House Khal’s holdings. Smart skull, that Bob. Besides, Kalm’s Kroot could use the exercise after gorging themselves on Priest kabobs.
We came along side to send Kalm, the Bas, and the Commandos over to wreak as much havoc as possible. The Destroyer managed to pull away from us but all they got for their trouble was a hole in the hull from one of Jak’s well place laser barrages. We hit their life support systems and the Void Suited Kroot’s job became much easier.
We’ll find a nice quite spot to strip our prizes for parts and valuables to convert into profit, though I think I’ll have her guns mounted on the Anvil. Rojer could use some target practice. I must also remember to dig through the ship’s data files…who knows what tidbits of value lie in an Inquisitorial Destroyer’s memory? All in all, a very good day for House Khal.