Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-27830834-20180707190947/@comment-27830834-20180712200419

"Better, we have a mole in the Syndicate's ranks." Says the Adjutant.

"He's the one who blew the whistle on the kidnappings in the first place. Codename: Kestrel. Not an agent, unfortunately, but a local we got to chatting with and... leaned on, hard. The good news is he has no idea that he's working for the Inquisition, he thinks we're some merc outfit trying to muscle in on the Syndicate's rackets."

The pict-project displays one final image: an orbital shot of a mottled-brown dustball of a planet, wire-thin lines encircling its wasted bulk, gleaming silvery in the light of its yellow sun.

"The bad news is that we don't have a visual confirmation. Kestrel's paranoid, and rightly so, but all his info checks out so far. Now we've managed to twist his arm into getting you lot an introduction to one of the Syndicate's higher-ups. Meeting's set to take place here on New Korinthos, Hive Zephyrus, in a down-stack dive joint called The Last Gasp."

Even though the Adjutant's "mouth" is little more than a fused plate of burnished steel, you swear for a moment that he's grinning at you.

"Further info on the locale been transferred to your data-slates, but in the meantime, hike up your drawers and pack your glare-shades, cause you're going to the most inhospitable Sector capital this side of the Segmentum. Dismissed."