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Message: <blockquote data-quote="DrZombie" data-source="post: 5735897" data-attributes="member: 15640">Brutis adjust his cape. Again. He tries to ignore the occasional giggle from Trix as best as he can, focusing on the surroundings. The big red cloak marked with symbols of the Emperor and lurid images of burning heretics, however obvious it is, does seem to do the trick. All the citizens surrounding him avert their eyes and move aside for the huge penal legionnaire. Well, Redemptionist Firebrand,to be more precise. The fanatic orders penchant for never-ending sermons at the top of their voice to anyone or anything not completely in line with their rigid (or rabid) view of the Imperial Doctrine and their solution surely involving a barrel of promethium, a stake and a few matches make sure none interfere in the journey to the outskirts of the spaceport. A quick change of clothes transforms the cultist in a heavily tattood spacer with a bandanna, and a metal carapace covering his torso, neck and lower half of his face.The call with Kincaid was short and to the point.The arbites were sending in a specialist. Luckily, it’s someone Kincaid can vouch for. She knows nothing about He Who Should Not Be Named (even if you did know his name), but knows that your investigation should be kept secret. Brutis will be guarding her. She has some additional info about the corpses in the train. She will be arriving shortly near you. Trixie has full arbites authority, but don’t use it unless you have to, is her final warning.A nervous Rat approaches the guards outside. They give the ganger and the guardsman a once over, and motion at the shotgun. They don’t seem to mind McLane’s knife nor Rat’s pistols.  One of the muscleboys opens a box large enough to fit the shotgun in, and waits.Outside the four remaining team-members stand just around the corner eating a bit of non-specified meat-on-a-stick from one of the local free entrepreneurs, 'cept for Brutis, who keeps an eye out for trouble.</blockquote>

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