Candlemass Guard Duty [Closed][Imperium][Semi-Canon]

As Specialist Dekker held the phone speaker she’d hear the dial tone. After about a minute of struggling to remember the number the dial tone would stop and Pru would hear a tired male voice say, “Guardhouse, this is Command. What do you need, over?”

---

“Well, with how things are going, some booze might become a bit more necessary,” the older man chuckled at his own joke for a moment before giving a shiver, “So did you find that in the sewers then?”

He’d loosen his hold on the blanket enough to point to the Arbites helmet Private Vernard was wearing.

---

The redhead Sister would say quietly, “Keep your voice down. We don’t want to wake our guest.”

She’d point to the bound being, who’d move slightly enough to jitter the chains lightly. Her voice wasn’t unpleasant in any way, in fact sounding a bit young and not entirely used to words; but somehow it was unnerving in a way.

She’d continue to sign in Mordian variant, saying, If they wake up it will become very unpleasant for everyone. Everyone in the truck should be fine. Cuts on guest have been treated.

As if to prove it, the redhead would gently move some chains to show a bandage around the bagged being’s right arm, then move some other chains quietly on the left to show another large bandage. Each time her hand got close the bound one would shiver, shaking the chains. The bandages held though, and they didn’t seem to need replacing any time soon.

“What does the diagnostor say? Need to see anything else?” the redhead asked quietly.

As for the “Lucifer Black”, he continued to hold the door open just enough for Adela to lean in as he kept lookout on everyone outside. His blue eyes would settle on Trooper Bembenek for a few seconds before giving her a brief smile and asking, “Slow day?”

Seeing him in his full glory, he was taller than Ilona. His coveralls and jacket weren’t really dirty and his black boots, while slightly scuffed, were in good shape. Even as he spoke his guard wasn’t entirely down.

((If Ilona wishes to continue eavesdropping on the conversation in the truck, please pass a Careful test with a target of 3.))

“Oh! Uh, we’ve got a farmer down here with a disabled vehicle, he’s gonna need a tow.” Prue glances back at the mysterious truck, distrustful and sullen in her appraisal. She briefly debates calling for reinforcements to impound the vehicle and toss the self-proclaimed “Lucifer Black” in a cell for interrogation, before remembering that the Mordian had already called command about it. “That’s, um, that’s it.”

Ilona stared at the man who spoke to her. Clearly he wasn't a Lucifer Black, that was obvious to her if not the others. She didn't feel any golden light coming from him, no washing away of her sins from one born on Holy Terra.

Just another fake.

But probably a dangerous one.

And one she didn't want to talk to. But a Corporal too. All these thoughts flashed through her head before she simply grunted out a "just another day." And glared at him, willing a scowl of annoyance across her face in an attempt to get the fake Terran to stop talking.

Cudjal gave a sincere chuckle at the man's joke. He himself was a simple man with a simple taste in humor. The PDF trooper idly listened as the conversation progressed, happy for the reprieve from the current situation.

That was until the man offered the sample. Cudjal went to politely decline, but hesitated. He then turned around and observed how the truck was now open and the Mordian was looking inside. Turning back he replied "Yes. Yes I would."

After a paused, he'd also ask "Do you... feel.. that?"

Ilona resisted the urge to tell the man to feth off. Angering higher ranks was a good way to get a beating or worse.

Thankfully Treston seemed to find everything in order, so Ilona stayed long enough to make sure the other woman wasn't in any danger, and then would fall back to the gatehouse with her.

Adela watches the truck drive by as she marches back to the guardhouse. She keeps her posture and motions precise and proper, like any good Mordian.

Upon exiting the view of the transport and any of the troopers on the gate, does she break this illusion, tearing off her scarf and immediately hurling in the corner, partially from being exposed to the Blanks for so long, and partially from nerves.

Now that the pressure of the Sisters are gone, she can’t help but feel a bit guilty for how she handled the situation. Perhaps it was the stress of “command” or the stress of the exposure to the Blanks, she felt she handled it more aggressively than she should have, specifically based on how cooperative the Sisters had been. Yet again, as Mordian she can’t help that it was the correct action.

Slowly she moves to the log, and records the whole event as, “Transport Truck. Cargo: Personnel. Cleared by Medic on Duty and Transport’s Commander.”