Part III: The bulkheads have ears
Fools would discount the ability of Chaos Space Marines to covertly collect information, seeing your bio-enhanced size and bulk a detriment to staying hidden and your usual methods of warfare rather far from the patience and guile required by such goals, but they would blindly ignore other benefits brought by the gift of your Primarch: enhanced strength and agility make it way easier to navigate the treacherous depths of any ship, your third lung allowing to move into area with little oxygen or toxic atmospheres, the catalepsean node and improved endurance removing the need to sleep and the enhancement to your ears and eyes making the information gathering much easier, as even fearful whispers exchanged in hidden alcoves are still audible to your transhuman hearing. And even if you rarely stoop to such methods, you and especially Zephus have some experience in such skulduggery, allowing you to avoid common pitfalls and show Frax the ropes; after all didn’t blessed Lorgar preach that “To bring the Truth of the Warp to craven heathens, no way shall be barred from the Faithfull; nor a thousand swords drawn at dawn nor a dagger wielded at dusk” in his Third Exultation to the Devoted?
You spent the next few days skulking in dark corridors, crawlspace, ventilation shafts and forgotten rooms, listening.
To impressed workers, chained work crews whipped into doing the lowest of labours, noting how most have lost any faith they might have had, though a small minority still clings to their misguided beliefs.
To the patrols of armsmen, looking just as wary of the threat of boarders as revolt and unrest from the crew, to the raids they conducted on those suspected of being criminal, disloyal or just recalcitrant, to the punishment they inflicted in public, in the middle of the widest corridors.
To the tense interactions those armsmen have with the sisters of battle and inquisitorial agents and troopers, untrusting of outsiders and resenting the presence of another armed force not under their authority.
To the whispers of those who have fled the harsh discipline of their Imperial masters for the dark and shadowy corners of the ship, where they joined outcasts and mutants, whose gifts had caused their exile from the rest of the crew.
To the throngs of deckhands moving to their stations for twelve hours shifts, primitive augments required by their post clunking and clanking as they moved about.
To members of the gunnery clans in charge of the macro-batteries, swaggering with all the cocksure assurance of those handling heavy artillery.
To the metallic footsteps of Adeptus Mechanicus enginseers dealing with the many technological arcana spread throughout the ship, necessary to its continued existence in the void.
To the petty officers and bosuns directing the crew, themselves under the order of superior officers sneering at those unfortunate enough to be born in stations lower than them.
To the sirens calling for the shift change, interspersed by the other signals calling for the myriad of things required by the running of a city-sized machine in the void of space.
To the rough songs and spilled drinks in the dive bars and other places of base pleasures, where off-duty voidmen take some dreary respite from the drudgery of their existence.
To the sounds of everyday life from the crew compartments, as crowded and squalid as any Imperial hive.
To the stomping of power armour and declaimed psalms from the sororitas guarding the main temple of the ship. Even if they tried to hide it, it is clear that they’ve just recently left the battlefield, with weapons and armours damaged by heavy combat and sporting wounds of varying gravity.
To the prayer calls and hymns from the other, smaller, shrines that dot the ship and the zealous exultations of roving preachers, the sight of whom make you blood boils, a fury lit on Monarchia and stoked by eight millenia of war coursing through you, pushing you to leave your hiding place and tear apart the priest, painting the bulkheads red with blood, crushing their bones to dust and offering their soul to the True Gods… But you curb your urges, vowing to visit your ire upon them at an appropriate time instead.
You listen to all and shift through it for the relevant nuggets of information, preparing plans of your eventual takeover of the ship.
====✳====
“...arrival to Belis Corona.”
That handful of words, heard over the din of the discussion in the mess hall of the forward junior officers quarters, makes you focus all your attention on the speaker, a portly and snobbish man in second lieutenant’s uniform, sitting at a table with a group of officers similarly dressed .
“With the heretic scum driven off from the system, we should reach the jump point in three days. Then we’ll make our translation into the Sea of Souls.”
At the mention of the Warp, he makes the reviled sign of the Aquila, imitated by most of the table. Ha! As if the corpse on the throne could help them there.
But those news are worrisome, as Belis Corona, the subsector capital, home to a full Imperial battlefleet and a major Inquisition enclave, had apparently made it through the Black Crusade relatively unscathed, with the major pushes of the Black Legion and its allies being towards Cancephalus, Antecanis and Subiaco Diablo instead.
As you share that new information with your subordinates at your next rendez-vous, you come to the conclusion that you have no choice but to take control of the ship before you arrive there, as any attempt done in the Belis Corona system runs a very high chance of the ship being counter-boarded by other Imperial forces or summarily destroyed. This does not change your current plan of taking control of the ship while in Warp travel, but this would put a hard time limit to any attempt you make.
So far you have found many possible targets to either suborn, coerce or strike: you’ve located the groups of outcast, slaves, deckhands that could be brought to your side, the armsmens stations and officers’ quarters to target or take control of, the main temple with the sisters of battle and the minoris shrines to target in that section of the ship. As you’re planning to coincide the start of your actions with the Warp translation, you still have a few days to gather information, enough to focus on two groups or areas, finding secrets that your ship-wide sweep hadn’t and couldn’t have revealed, owing to its speed.
Choose two of the following options:
A) Mechanicus minoris enginarium - In addition to the main installations, above the crew compartment is a smaller enginarium, that you barely looked at, beyond noting its presence
B) Outcasts, mutants and deserters, roaming the dark holds, out of sight and mind of the rest of the crew.
C) Armsmen and the stations they are manning throughout the ship
D) Crew compartments, where the vast majority of the crew is packed in conditions worth any underhive.
E) Sisters of battle at the main temple: even if you have already watched them, there yet might be some angles that would give you an advantage when it will be time to attack them
F) Minoris shrines, satellite to the main temple, usually filled with zealots, especially now that the sisters of battle quartered in the main temple
G) Junior officer quarters: located amidship, this area is where you'd find them while off-duty.
AN: ok, not so much is happening this chapter, I’m mostly setting the scene, so a shame it took nearly two months to arrive, right?
Right now you have a few broad idea of where to start (recruiting the outcasts and mutants, proselytising among among the crew/press-ganged, striking the armsmen/SoB…), but this choice is to find special options that are specific to the different area/groups, that you will be able to choose in the near future.
Also I'm on holiday with sporadic access to internet, so answers might be slow to arrive