Crew Logs:  Differences of Dogma

Roland's log: Chapter 2

Verse 1: Hermitage. This station is a dead world, but no one has told that to
the monks who live here. It used to have a purpose. You can almost here the
long distant footsteps of those who came to renew their faith. But the universe
is filled with such places, and out of the way ones like this simply do not have
the draw they once did. Lord Draconis has gone to inquire about local affairs
from the abbot, and most of the other officers are either assisting him with
that, or searching the cathedral for secret messages from other Rogue Traders.
I may as well arrange a meeting with the other ship docked here, the Enduring

Verse 2: Well we've had dinner with Captain Fortunas of the Enduring Profit
now. Enduring Profit may be what he is seeking, but he's certainly not in
possession of it. He is either very new, very inept, or a pirate/unauthorized
trader. Unskilled or treacherous, what a lovely choice. Upon learning of our
destination, he jumped at the chance of convoying with us. Fairly audacious of
him as he has nothing to offer, and everything to gain. More baffling was the
fact that Lord Draconis accepted this offer asking for nothing in return. Does
he think he's still in the Navy? How are we ever going to turn a profit if he
never asks for payment? At least he's trying by setting up an outpost with some
of the crew here. Poor sods, marooned on this dead world. If it was me, I'd be
tempted to embrace the void sans suit rather than stay here among the forgotten
relics listening vainly for news.

Verse 3: Ahh, battle. Our world craves it, and as one of it's denizens I do as
well. I prefer a profitable battle, of course, but even an unprofitable battle
allows you to see what mettle there is in those around you. I already know
about the other officers, but it is a perfect chance to see Lord Draconis in

Lord Draconis is definitely still playing by Navy rules of engagement. A minor
holy war breaks out with the missionaries we're supposed to be transporting on
one side and the guns and the chainswords are singing their songs of death.
Lord Draconis's plan was to order the less well-armed crew ahead of the officers
with orders to minimize casualties. Perhaps he's forgotten that the Navy is not
going to send him more men, and so expending them as canon fodder is foolish

Fortunately, Quenn and I are more than happy to give the explanation of
"scouting to minimize casualties" as an excuse to drive right into the hot spot.
I would have thought Quenn climbing on top of the vehicle, rather than in it
would have looked odd, but when the bullets are flying, things can get
overlooked. Frost also jumped into the "scout" vehicle, which surprised me a
little. He's no coward, but he hates my driving, attributing my style to the
fact that I'm wearing power armor, and in little danger compared to him in his
flak armor.

We managed a hard stop at the altar, giving Quenn a chance to leap into battle
with the leaders of this little war, and Frost to bounce around the backseat
like a loose ball bearing. Quenn and I are not used to fighting to subdue,
we're killers. Still, Quenn is the only man I know willing to fighting someone
who is using an eviscerator with his bare hands. Sure, I've seen him rip people
in half with his bare hands before, it doesn't make the display any less

The head abbot was nearly killed, but that doesn't count as killed. The rest of
the holy war was quelled with Frost threatening our head missionary (Oh what a
fun ride they'll have together for the rest of the trip) and the crew subduing
anyone else who did not wish to stand down. It turns out that the two sides
were fighting over whether the same saint should be remembered as a warrior, or
a condemner. Not quite the stupidest reason I've heard for a fight, but
definitely up there.

Alberecht's JOurnal


                We made station-fall at Hermitage. We promptly took shore leave on an assortment of errands; this gave us an immediate and indelible impression of the place â€" if there had been soil beneath it, it would have been one of those ancient abbeys on a hill from those romances you love â€" it gave me the willies. It was in such bad disrepair that I elected to go about in my power armor â€" great sections left to void, others to well there were no rats â€" I suspect they left some ages ago.

                I thought I might find some clues about the transept, so I spent a bit of time poking around there. It was pretty heavily guarded so I kept my nosiness to a minimum; resulting in nothing found. I got the bright idea that maybe old Lucien or former crew might have left something in the form of an offering to the ship’s patron â€" that’s when we discovered that no one had a clue who it was. We’d been staring at the back-side of that colossus for what seems like an eternity â€" yet none of our ship-fitting had prompted us to venture to where we could see it face. I actually resorted to looking at the back-side of a bunch of saints, trying to identify ours from that aspect â€" you would have laughed hard enough to split your side.

                Finally Draconis himself called the chapel aboard â€" St Drucis the Condemner (that last part is important â€" read on…).

                The following day I accompanied Draconis to the library â€" apparently the library, nay the entire hulk of a station â€" is dedicated to St. Drucis the Warrior. The monks went on at great length about how they had the finest collection about St. Drucis the Warrior, yet pointedly ignored the possibility that anything, anyone, or even any aspect of the cannon could merit any interest at all. We should have packed up and fled right then…

                Next day, the shift is going routinely when we get a call from one of our patrols that all H*** is breaking loose in â€" of all places â€" the transept. We start calling around while a company of troops is being formed to discover that the mewling missionaries we’d boarded for Footfall had joined an all-out battle with the local clergy â€" right there is the center of the cathedral!

                The blood-and-guts types took off on a vehicle charging straight into the midst of it (after a brief and fruitless inquiry whether we had any ordnance aboard which wasn’t lethal), leaving just me and the balance of the company which didn’t get on the truck to escort Draconis straight into a literal holy war â€" on a failing space station!

                We made the best time we could, and picked up as many of the ship’s company as we could gather on the way, but we luckily missed out on most of the fun. That gung-ho Frost had actually attacked and nearly killed the abbot â€" on his own station â€" and threatened our own passenger father Brontos â€" to get them to stand down. This was of course after the driver had also plowed the truck into the altar itself; taking out a nice chunk in the process. We quickly exited and retrieved most of our passengers, without further incident! â€" there may be something to this miracle stuff â€" and departed. (Without getting the blessing Draconis had arranged for â€" I guess the miracle won’t be chalked up to the side of Drucis the Warrior). It only occurs to be now that I should have snatched a bit of the “true altar” while I had the chance.


Faithfuly yours, forever,