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Arkus Dylock

"Ah, a challenge worthy of my skill."

0 · 311 views · located in The Nellifus Sector

a character in “Waystation Galvius”, as played by elloit

Description

CANDIDATE RECORD
DATE: 0023052.M42
From the desk of Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne.
Citizen Identification Number: 30582-473-GKT9492
Name
First: Arkus MI: N/A Last: Dylock
M: X F:
Nicknames/Aliases: Usually assigned identifier Ī©22Ī”Ī“-3 in binary cant.
Age: 124 (Terran Standard Years)
Birthplace (City): Cathar Forge
Birthplace (Planet): Belacane
Birthplace (Sector): Calixis Sector
Birthplace (Segmentum): Segmentum Obscurus
Current Residence (Address): N/A
Current Residence (City): N/A
Current Residence (Planet): N/A
Current Residence (System): N/A
Current Residence (Sub-Sector): N/A
Current Residence (Sector): N/A
Current Residence (Segmentum): N/A

Blood Type: B+
Height: 162.56 cm (note that mechanicus implants cause stooped posture, actual height closer to 180 cm)
Weight: 142.76 kg
Eye Color: original eyes replaced, green lenses on bionics.
Hair Color: N/A

Physical Appearance: Hunched under the weight of his mechanicus implants, Arkus is a small and wiry figure, made bulkier by his modifications. He is bald, and his head bears many scars from being cut open to have something added or replaced. His nose and mouth have been replaced with a grille similar to that of an Astartes-pattern helmet respirator, and his eyes are bulky bionics which make him look like he is wearing goggles of some description. The eyes are constantly recording everything he sees in much the same fashion as many servo-skulls. Both of his hands have been inlaid with a haptic interface, allowing him to access some technology by thought when touching it. The interface appears like a cobweb of silver covering both palms. His spine has been reinforced to take the weight of the four mechadendrite arms attached to his back, with two on each side split evenly between upper and lower back. This allows two arms to move over his shoulders, and two below his arms to allow for maximum utility. The mechadendrites themselves consist of basic manipulators capable of functioning as basic tools such as wrenches, hammers, and screwdrivers. His chest contains several plugs, sockets, and blinking lights which allow him to directly plug in and monitor diagnostics of certain machinery. Another plug at the base of his skull allows for the download and accessing of his data stores should it be necessary. Where skin is visible it is unhealthily pale and sickly looking. He always wears the standard red robes of a tech-priest, often with the hood pulled up so that only the glow from his eyes is visible (this is done in an effort to avoid unsettling non-mechanicus personnel, but usually has the opposite effect). He also wears a standard issue Imperial Guard flak-jacket over the robes in the slate grey of the 92nd Vostroyan Armoured Regiment.

He is often accompanied by his servitor, Jorma. Jorma is little more than a walking toolbox capable of following only basic commands. It is not equipped for combat in any way, and is incapable of speech. It stands at just under 182 cm tall, and is quite broad shouldered. It is made bulky by armoured plates riveted into its waxy, sallow skin to give it some form of protection. Recessed into its large chest is a huge compartment taking up most of its torso, and extending out to its back making it look as though it is wearing a backpack, which contains all manner of tools and ointments. Its face, surprisingly, looks more human than Arkusā€™, with short brown hair and dull amber eyes. Its mouth has been stitched closed to prevent it from drooling.

Psychological Profile: Like many tech-priests, Arkus seems lacking in all emotion at first glance. Even to people who have known him for months, the sudden revelation that he has a sense of humour can come as a surprise, and the realisation that he gets angry even more so. Arkus is used to being shunned and mistrusted by those he serves with, but shrugs it off and gets on with the job. Though he is devout in his worship of the Omnissiah he does take a somewhat more liberal view than most, owing to his time on the front lines where he realised that following the scriptures to the letter would get him and many others killed needlessly. Far better for him to make a small field modification to a machine and pray to the Omnissiah for forgiveness than let the tank crews do it themselves and ruin a perfectly serviceable machine. He has to take powerful painkillers every day due to an error made when installing his mechadendrites that leaves him in agony if left unattended. On a bad day he may be seen twitching occasionally as the pain disrupts his functionality. Can often be heard muttering to himself in binary cant, or conversing with his servitor even though it is incapable of responding to him.

Psyker: Y: N: X
If Yes What Category: N/A
If Yes What Is/Are Their Psychic Abilitie(s): N/A

Family (Alive or Deceased)
Mother: Beta Dylock (Deceased)
Father: Ormon Dylock (Deceased)
Sister: Helia Dylock (currently serving with Explorator Fleet Xanthor, status unknown)

Personal Funds/ Monetary Assets: Exact wealth unknown, money rarely accessed.
Current Profession (If Applicable): Tech-Priest Enginseer
Skills and Aptitudes: Highly skilled in technology, mainly leaning towards maintenance and repair but with enough knowledge to operate the majority of standard Imperial technology. Fluent in binary cant and both High- and Low-Gothic. An average shot with a laspistol if forced to enter combat, but positively deadly in close quarters owing to the increased speed, strength, and flexibility of the mechadendrite arms. Also well versed in the use of the power-axe all enginseers carry.

Personal History: (note that this is just the highlights and itā€™s still pretty long)
932.M41 ā€“ Arkus Dylock is born to Beta and Ormon Dylock
944.M41 ā€“ Arkus begins working in Forge Cathar on a data-slate assembly line, where his efficiency and attention to detail is noted by his supervisor.
948.M41 ā€“ Under recommendation of his supervisor, Arkus is inducted into the Cult Mechanicus. He will never see his parents again.
960.M41 ā€“ Arkus completes training as an Enginseer and is shipped out at the end of the year as part of Belacaneā€™s Imperial Tithe to serve with the Vostroyan 92nd Armoured Regiment, en route to the Sabbat Worlds.
963.M41 ā€“ Vostroyan 92nd deployed prematurely for first time on Garma to crush insurgency. Superiors delighted to note that Arkus increases overall efficiency of Basilisk battery 3 by an incredible 0.43%.
968.M41 ā€“ Garma reconquered, Arkus awarded the servitor Jorma in recognition of his achievements.
977.M41 ā€“ Vostroyan 92nd redirected to assist with resistance of Waaaagh! Machak.
989.M41 ā€“ After a brutal campaign that leaves seven worlds devastated, Vostroyan 92nd receives order to leave warzone to other regiments and continue on to Sabbat Worlds with all haste. Arkus receives mechadendrites in recognition of his service.
994.M41 ā€“ Vostroyan 92nd once again redirected due to rebellion on Waystation Domon. Waystation must be reclaimed if the Regimental Fleet is to engage in resupply. Arkus is ordered to remain behind to assist with repairs to the Waystation.
995.M41 ā€“ Vostroyan 92nd dissapears entirely shortly after being ambushed by Dark Eldar Pirates. Wreckage of less than half of the ships is found, with no trace of the remainder.
996.M41 ā€“ With repairs to Waystation Domon completed, Arkus is reassigned to the newly re-raised Vostroyan 92nd Armoured Regiment, once again en route to the Sabbat Worlds.
003.M42 ā€“ Arkus meets his sister for the first time whilst resupplying on Anx. She is serving with Explorator Fleet Xanthor, and the two continue to trade messages for several months before communication becomes too unreliable due to the vast distances involved. He hasnā€™t heard from her since.
005.M42 ā€“ The new Vostroyan 92nd is blooded on Forge World Rexus, where a heretical techno-cult has taken over. Initially the war is disastrous for the untested recruits, who suffer immense casualties.
006.M42 ā€“ The Vostroyan 92nd is on the verge of defeat when the Mordian 144th and 176th regiments arrive to reinforce them. The highly trained Mordians take the pressure off the Vostroyan 92nd long enough for them to consolidate valuable battlefield experience and take time to resupply.
010.M42 ā€“ Forge World Rexus is finally reconquered, with the Mordian 144th sustaining such heavy casualties it is merged into the 176th. The Mechanicus awards Arkus his haptic implants for his part in the war against the heretics.
023.M42 ā€“ Arkus is forced to undergo extensive cranial reconstruction and modification after the Chimera APC he is in is destroyed by an Eldar ā€˜Fire Dragonā€™ squad during the conquest of a Maiden World. Aside from minor shrapnel and burn wounds, it is the first significant injury he has sustained in his entire time with the Imperial Guard.
025.M42 ā€“ After a short rehabilitation and recovery period Arkus rejoins the Vostroyan 92nd and persecutes the Eldar with a vengeance. He personally oversees the launch of a Deathstrike missile which destroys the Webway Gate the Eldar are attempting to retreat through. The result is a complete massacre, with not a single xenos surviving.
0586040.M42 ā€“ The Vostroyan 92nd is redirected to Bekā€™s World by order of Inquisitor Kesk to assist with the defence against Tyranid Hive Fleet Terrasque.
0590040.M42 ā€“ Arkus is assigned as personal Enginseer to Inquisitor Keskā€™s command transport by superiors eager to earn the Inquisitorā€™s favour.
0093041.M42 ā€“ Inquisitor Kesk is killed during a Tyranid assault and is succeeded by his interrogator. In what could be construed as a sign of disrespect Arkus is ordered to rejoin Major Ushenko in the Vostroyan 92nd rather than further assist the newly promoted Inquisitor Osbourne.
0104041.M42 ā€“ Inquisitor Osbourne enacts the Exterminatus on Bekā€™s World after a full evacuation. The defence is considered a success despite the total destruction of the planet. The Vostroyan 92nd is all but wiped out and as a result it is merged into the 86th Combined Arms Regiment. Back on Vostroya the decision is made not to refound the regiment.
0503048.M42 ā€“ The Mechanicus receives a request from Inquisitor Osbourne for a Tech-Priest to work with him on a clandestine mission. Having met the Inquisitor before it is decided that Arkus will be most able to interface with the Inquisitor, and he is immediately transferred to his service.
0568048.M42 - Present date

Intelligence Quotient: 142
Neural Wavelength Frequency: 36
Spacial Reasoning Score: 79%
Linguistic Aptitude: 83% (Binary Cant, High-Gothic, Low-Gothic)

So begins...

Arkus Dylock's Story

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Character Portrait: Arkus Dylock
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#, as written by elloit
Arkus looked at himself hard in the mirror once again. It was the first time heā€™d really used it. Possibly the first time heā€™d ever used one, he wasnā€™t quite sure. He had no idea why he had felt the sudden impulse to observe his body after ritually purifying it prior to dressing for the coming mission. He slowly traced his hand across the ugly seams and scars where flesh met metal and biology became bionic. The only thing that sprang to mind was how frail he looked.
ā€˜You donā€™t look like a soldierā€¦ā€™ he thought over and over again. Ordinarily he wouldnā€™t have minded, but he had accessed the secure pict feeds of the other personnel that would be accompanying him when assisting with some routine maintenance, and seen that they were warriors all. From experience he knew that strength only respected strength, and Arkus certainly didnā€™t look like he had any strength. Now that he saw himself he realised you wouldnā€™t guess he was capable of tipping a Chimera single-handedly by looking at him. He almost looked spindly enough that he would struggle to lift a book.
Suddenly it dawned on him why people always assumed he was going to be a burden or a liability despite his lengthy combat record. ā€˜You just donā€™t look tough enoughā€¦ā€™ he mused. Let them think what they would. The Inquisitor was aware of his skills and that was enough. He briefly wondered how the Inquisitor had changed in the years since they last met. Arkus prayed to the Omnissiah that he had learnt the value of patience and caution or he had a feeling that this would be a very short mission.
Then again, Arkus was struggling to shake the sense that this might be his final undertaking as it was. Ever since Bekā€™s World he had had a sense of impending doom, and he knew where its origins lay. The Tyranids. That chittering mass of teeth and claws had shaken his belief in the Omnissiah more than anything he had ever experienced. All his life he had been taught that the flesh was weak and the machine strong, but he had seen with his own eyes that that wasnā€™t always the case. Briefly an overlay appeared recalling footage of whole formations of Leman Russ tanks drowning beneath a tide of flesh, but he removed it almost immediately. He had no wish to see the battle that had nearly destroyed his regiment again.
At the end of the day, none of that mattered. He would do his duty to Imperium and Omnissiah, and if that meant giving his life he would. The soldiers would tolerate him for the knowledge he possessed until such time as he had proven himself to them. So it had always been, so it would be. There was a chime as the intercom activated, snapping him from his thoughts. The Inquisitor gave a ten minute warning, and a countdown timer overlaid itself on the edge of his vision automatically. Arkus briefly considered whether or not he should arrive early. If this were a Mechanicum operation everyone would arrive exactly on time, but in the past several generals had found this somewhat irritating. Magos Erhardt had been very clear in his transfer orders that he was to do anything in his power to keep the Inquisitor happy, and promote the role of the Mechanicus as much as possible provided that did not mean giving up any secrets. Better to be early then, in case that was what the Inquisitor was expecting. It took him just two minutes to dress and gather his equipment, all pre-prepared since a week before. He spared a thought for all the machines lying around his room that would likely never be repaired, before commanding Jorma to follow him and striding from the room without looking back.

It was a minuteā€™s walk to the briefing room, and Arkus used this time to review the information he had on the Waystation. He was still trying to work out what could have caused it to disappear. It didnā€™t have a warp drive, so it couldnā€™t have vanished the way many space hulks did. He knew from bitter experience that the Eldar had the technology to make ships disappear, but he had never heard of them taking something the size of a Waystation and struggled to find a reason for them to do so. Despite all his knowledge this was something he simply couldnā€™t explain, and that made him uneasy. That feeling of foreboding began to creep to the surface again, and he crushed it brutally, activating several emotion-suppressant systems. This was no time for doubts.
Ceremonial axe clanking rhythmically from the floor of the ship, Arkus strode into the briefing room and noted with some disappointment that only two individuals were there before him. That meant that he probably couldā€™ve spent the remaining seven minutes fixing something without irking the Inquisitor. He would remember that in future. Nodding to the Inquisitor he strode to the far end of the room without even glancing at the other two men, the whine of Jormaā€™s servos obediently echoing his own footfalls, before standing behind a chair as they were. Evidently this was some form of etiquette, that was surely the only reason that they would choose to stand when sitting was more efficient.
Whilst he may have looked frail in the mirror he knew from experience that when he was in full battle-dress, with just the two glowing green dots of his eyes shining out from the darkness beneath his hood and his mechadendrites twitching occasionally of their own accord, he cut an unsettling enough figure. For once he almost took pleasure in that fact, as he waited for the briefing to beginā€¦

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aina Harker Character Portrait: Caroline Holsten Character Portrait: Deckard Braddock Character Portrait: Arkus Dylock Character Portrait: Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne
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#, as written by Saxious
Letting out a loud sigh, Caroline placed the dataslate on her desk and rubbed her one good eye. She had just come from war zone and she was now being thrust into a... a what? Search and destroy? Liberate? She didn't know what to make of the mission. Apparently this station had vanished without a single trace 300 terra years ago and had recently showed up on Imperial radar, and from what meager information she had been given, this station had not been an overly popular place for pirates to visit, so the assumption that the whole station had been hijacked was out of the window. Whatever the case was, this Inquisitor Volsk had gone a great length to get his hands on Caroline, who was just released from intensive care and long overdue to return to her regiment for retraining and redeployment.

"Argh bullocks," Caroline cursed, using common underhive Scintilla slang. Her biotic eye had repaired since her confrontation with the orks on the Imperial colony Zel Tertius, though every now and then it would 'twitch' just painful enough for it to be annoying. Additionally, an ork grenade had exploded dangerously close to the back of her head, and she had a metal plate inserted to protect her brain (thankfully they had done it well enough for her to take showers).
She then began to clean her laspistol, just to be certain that it would live up to her (strict) regimental standards. Caroline hadn't brought much more than her usual equipment with her (she honestly didn't have anything else) and had been placed at the deeper and farther end of the ship, closer to the machines, much to her comfort, though she had not encountered the Inquisitor in person, or anyone else that he may had enlisted. Caroline had instead spend time amongst the slave leaders, and (re)cleaning her uniform and las weapons, something her strict regiment had slowly made her enjoy.

Many non-Scintillans had mistaken her regiment for PDF troops, or parade glorified soldiers, as their uniforms were unrealistically well maintained though it was seen as a crucial part of the regiment's discipline, and in Caroline's case, it had paid off. Being a former underhive ganger, she had been force conscripted by Scintilla and the military training had brought control over her otherwise renegade behavior, though some habit never truly died, and Caroline had her fair share of scars from that habit.
Though Caroline was usually the exception, the left side of her face had been deformed from boiling hot steam during a boarding assault on an eldar ship, blinding her left eye and it was subsequently replaced with an unstable biotic eye instead.

"Well, time to get serious." Caroline said to herself as she noted the time was getting closer for the debriefing meeting. Having set up her uniform and equipment in an emergency response manner, Caroline was swiftly in her sharp uniform. Checking herself in her mirror she made sure that minor adjustments were made in order to look better presentable in front of an Inquisitor, and for the sake of ceremony, she only brought along her laspistol, and as always, she wore her red beret with a golden aquila attached.

The march through the ship was good for her, being hiveborn she had a natural instinct for finding her way around ships and give her hot temper it was usually a good thing for her to walk some steam off before the debriefing. As she stepped into the debriefing room, she saluted as she would to any superior officer, "Sergeant-Major Caroline Holsten reporting for duty milord...s" Caroline quickly added as she saw there were two inquisitors present, plus those who took the time to read her facial expression could see she was clearly taken aback by this fact. Nevertheless, she placed herself closer to the large soldier, though with enough distance for it not to be uncomfortable. She then spend a brief moment looking at the other members that had showed up.

Well, at least we will have two that will know which end of a gun to use, Caroline thought as she had finished looking at the large man she stood closest to. So far the only issue she could pull up was his facial expression; he looked too stern for Caroline's liking (which was a lot considering her regiment was modelled after the Mordian Iron Guard), though his tats of imperial writing and prayers served to assure her that the man was loyal to the Imperium.
A tech-priest. Good, our weapons won't jam and any technical problems can be dealt with properly, she thought as she looked at the servant of the Omnissiah. Caroline had seen a good deal of tech-priests during her tours with the Scintilla 234th, especially when their light cruiser needed refueling and checkups, though she had rarely spoken to them unless her equipment couldn't be fixed.
When she came to the arbiter looking man, she stopped and gave him a hard look. Though pass her ganger times, her experiences with the lawmen had never been a friendly one, I know the Inquisitor has his reasons but why the hell him? We don't need the lawmen coming and poking their noses in war business.
Finally, Caroline turned to the other Inquisitor, giving her a quick look as for not look disrespectful, I'll be damned. Two Inquisitors. Shit just got serious.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aina Harker Character Portrait: Caroline Holsten Character Portrait: Deckard Braddock Character Portrait: Arkus Dylock Character Portrait: Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne Character Portrait: Varus Ibram
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All right people, you have about ten minutes to get into the briefing chamber,
I'll be waiting. That is all.


The voice echoed loudly within the simplistic chambers that Varus had been assigned upon arrival causing the Vindicare to sigh softly to himself before resuming what he had been doing. Laid out on the table in front of him was an assortment of parts which at first glance seemed that several looked almost archaic while others seemed almost outlandish and bizarre; yet to his eyes were simply tiny parts of his soul awaiting assembly so that he would be complete again. He felt his jaw twist slightly as a wry smile marred his features for a moment as his delicate hands danced across the brushed metal surface, ignoring the summons for the moment. Lightly lifting components and slotting them together, faint clicks followed by soft hisses of air as tubes became joined and sections began to realign. In a matter of seconds his hands now rested on the fully assembled Exitus Rifle. His soulmate. Viktoria.

He chuckled softly at the odd attachment to his weapon, something that Luna had always chided him for at the schola. Shaking his head slowly to dislodge the memories of his life before, he lifted it up and rested it against his shoulder, testing the weight and dialling in the ranges and measurements. It wasnā€™t needed. Heā€™d done this a hundred times since boarding the ship and thousands if not millions of times before that. But some habits die hard, and heā€™d never live it down if the one time he didnā€™t check his tools they failed him. Flicking the safety leaver into place and locking the weapon down, he holstered it behind his back into the mag-clasps running the length of his stealth suit, his fingers lingering on the well-worn grooves left in the leather and metal handle from his years of use.

Cracking his neck to the right he rotated his shoulders to loosen the muscles slightly before tracing his eyes along the rows of bullets that lined almost every surface. Many were simple armour piercing rounds with little purpose than ripping through the ā€˜righteousā€™ armour that protected many a fool from his sudden death. Though it would be petty to call any tool of the Officio simple, since the armour these had been designed to pierce included those of the Adeptus Astartes, after all, targets were targets. His suit was already covered in several pockets of bullets designed for much more dangerous targets than a space marine, though he did wonder given his assignments vagueness exactly what would be needed here.

Shrugging to himself he reached down and lifted up his mask, fitting it over his head and securing the seals against even the vacuum of space itself, before picking up the camo-cloak from his bed and fastening it around his shoulders. He walked over to the doorway and activated security protocols and mechanisms that had been installed when he moved his equipment in and duly made his way towards this meeting. After all he was only running down to less than a few minutes to arrive on time, but then for all they know he could have been there all along. He smiles to himself letting his fingers caress the equally worn handle of his Exitus pistol, the twin to his Viktoria, as his suit and cloak wavered faintly as they began to warp his visibility slightly before he deactivated their system for the moment.

As he reached the doorway into the meeting room he took a soft breath before touching the activation rune to open it. He stroke in calmly and without fear, even though he raised his eyebrow behind his glowing green eye plate at the sight of not one but two inquisitors. Clearly this was unlikely to be a mission that he was going to enjoy. Looking towards the current leader of the ground he nodded towards him and spoke softly, his voice crackling slightly through the vox systems of his mask.

ā€œGood Evening, Inquisitors. Reporting as requested."

He then took up position leaning against the wall nearest the door and watching events more closely, with his mechanical eye examining the other members already in assembly as well as these two Inquisitors in an attempt to discover any immediate threats from them before whatever was to occur did so.