Battlestar Invictus

Ch IX. The Outsider Leads

After exchanging customary greetings to their comrades in arms based in the Babarus Costa System, Invictus jumped out to fulfill her latest orders. Before committing to the long and perilous journey, the ship docked at one of the deep-space stations littered across the entrance of the Warp-Passage. It wasn't really a matter of choice. Theoretically the battlestar could hop across in a few jumps without resupplying, but the holes in her armor needed to be repaired among other things. Holding off the pirate forces surely helped the Naval forces stationed there, but Invictus took a pounding doing so. Aside from the two scarred openings in her bow armor caused by Lance fire, the armor was riddled with dents, holes and craters from artillery fire, accompanied by laser scorch marks.

Seeing the damage first-hand from the cockpit of his own Viper Price knew his ship had suffered. The dings and craters from enemy guns... Well he had expected something like that. His own crew could hammer out those dents and patch up small holes. But those scars. It was almost like someone took a knife to her face. Frankly the idea that a single weapon could make his armor irrelevant scared him a bit. The realisation really sunk in that Goradin may actually have saved the ship from a crippling blow, and many lives by extension.

The ship itself was still combat effective. The structure wasn't damaged, the Missile-Silo's were intact, most batteries still worked and all but a few compartments were intact. A few point-defence batteries had suffered though. A direct hit had barely missed the gun itself but blew the feeding mechanism away. This sight repeated itself on many gun stations. A few crews were unfortunate enough to get sucked out the breached hull. This brought the death-toll up to 132 souls lost, of whom 29 were pilots. A cruel touch of fate had a few of them safely land aboard only to die on their wounds in sick-bay. A bad way to go. Most men didn't mind dying in battle. Just get hit and die in an instant while fighting. This was not meant for everybody it seemed. Such is the way of war.

Knowing that several well-equipped stations were out there on the way to Orar, Invictus set a course and two days later docked safely for repairs. Dealing with the High-Born Imperial commander stationed there was a bit like playing politics, but the man was agreeable enough. It was clear he wanted a commission on a warship, not here. He did do his job however and did it well. Both officers briefed each other on the activities they came across. It seemed that the route the Invictus was taking was full of all sorts of nastiness. Chaos raiders, Ork pirates and Eldar corsairs. Price made a mental note to ask his Imperial Lieutenant about these potential threats.

The station command was theoretically shared between the Naval commander and a Mechanicus Magos who oversaw anything that had to do with tinkering and repairing any and all technology.

Between the two, the Magos was the one Price liked the most. Unlike the Commander, the Magos was quite content with his position. He was a peculiar bloke. For some reason he had the habit of annoying the Imperial Commander from time to time by flashing his headlights at him when he wasn't looking, then pretending it wasn't him. The one occasion Price caught the Magos pulling off this joke, he had trouble holding his laughter. It seemed that this wasn't really general Mechanicus-like behaviour, but Price didn't mind. A few light souls here and there were a welcome sight in a warzone. Though the many cables, hoses and something that looked like a robotic arm were sticking out of him were a bit off-putting, the light-hearted character quickly made all that fade away.

Both Station Commanders extended the invitation to let the Invictus' crew come aboard for some shore-leave. A part of the station was intended for merchant markets and travelers anyway.

As expected the crew was dying for some time off. After their shift they went off in groups to explore the unknown called the Imperial Markets.

Men and women from different corners of the sector came together to sell their wares while others came to buy. Stalls were filled with exotic spices, strange mechanical contraptions, amulets, books and garments. The crew was warned to watch out for scammers, but it didn't really matter much. Colonial credits were not worth much to the Imperial Merchants. The experience alone was enough for most. Price took the opportunity to see all this for himself. Looking for a good place to sit down for a drink, he came across richly decorated establishments, gentleman-ish clubs, your shady round-the-corner bar and even flashy exotic bars. It seemed that it didn't matter how far you went or how advanced a culture was, one of those bars were always to be found.