"How would the planetary governor deal with a penal legion uprising?"

"By pushing the big red button."

They have bomb collars.

Not all of them. I don't think the Savlar Chem Dogs have them.

But yeah regular guard will shell them traitorous criminals with everything they've got.

How Penal Legions are used:
Officer A: we know the enemy are in the trenches but dont know where they have positioned thier heavy bolter emplacements.
Officer B: Should we have the Penal Legion advance slowly across the field?
Officer A: Obviously.

As for the OP about bording the ship, I'd say it would be possible if the players are smart. For example disabling oxygen to some parts of the ship, venting sections of the crew and quickly killing the officers Also they could try luring in the Arbites into the fray then showing their Inquisitorial credentials. I'd be more worried about allowing them to keep ship though. Their are a lot of issues with how that would even work. Not least where are they getting a Navigator.

Uses of penal legionnaires include:

Clearing minefields.

The first wave of an assault.

Urban combat (and other cramped areas where fighting is guaranteed to bleed your forces heavily).

Distractions.

Rear guard during a retreat.

Good source of men for impromptu firing squads.

Examples to motivate the troops.

Giving them lots of combat drugs, having them mount bayonets, and charge. If they all die before reaching enemy lines, well, you'll be able to mark enemy gun nests and such for artillery. If they do reach enemy lines, you push the button after some time (so the legionnaires can inflict as many casualties as possible. Bomb collars don't give a **** if whoever's wearing them is alive, after all), thus decimating the defenders, before ordering an artillery barrage to shatter them even more in preparation for the wave of your actual soldiers instead of criminal scum.

If, by some miracle, some Legionnaires survive their tasks, you'll probably push the button and send to the Emperor's side anyway because they're no longer any kind of useful fighting force with the casualties they've almost certainly taken, and they're expendable and utterly replaceable anyway.

If, by some miracle, some Legionnaires survive their tasks, you'll probably push the button and send to the Emperor's side anyway because they're no longer any kind of useful fighting force with the casualties they've almost certainly taken, and they're expendable and utterly replaceable anyway.

That, or they're useful being sent in an other unit?

So I've been thinking about the progression from the failed ship boarding, to the penal legion. Here's the current plot that I've come up with (a work in progress) - let me know what you guys think or if you can see any fallacies or logical issues with this chain of events.

Presuming that their attempt to take the Prophet (House Thix's Merchant Trader) fails, the acolytes are taken into the custody of the Adeptus Arbites. If they attempt to contact their Inquisitor for an easy get-out-of-jail free, the Inquistor tells them that House Thix is subcontracted under the Warrant of Trade of a notable Rogue Trader dynasty, meaning that their activities are outside of the Inquistion's jurisdiction and also that, in attacking them, the Inquisitor could make am powerful political enemy if he took responsibility for the acolytes. The acolytes (who consist of two renegade psykers, a heretek, and a noble born assassin) are given the choice of firing squad/public incineration or, alternatively, indictment into the penal legion. Assuming they choose the latter, the characters are fitted with explosive collars, outfitted with guard flak armor, a Lasgun, and a knife, and herded onto the Naval frigate Gloria Regis for redistribution to the feudal world of H63Gamma.

Upon arriving at H63Gamma the penal legion learns they will be reinforcing the Khorschev 837 Line Infantry. The Khorschev and Penal Legion are embroiled in a war against the local residents of H63G. Centuries ago, a a relatively small space hulk emerged from warspace within the planet's gravity field and crashed, and the survivors of the wrecked ships have converted them into enormous castles that act as holdings for petty warlords. The locals refuse to submit to the will of the Imperial Creed, believing the strange men from the sky to be daemons, and to make matters worse pockets of feral orks infest the planet's swamps and jungles. Exterminatus would be the usual solution, but the local monarch's personal fiefdom is inside the wreckage of a Secutor Class Explorator vessel, and the Adeptus Mechanicus will not dispatch the necessary material for a virus bombing until the archeotech relics inside are retrieved safely.

If that wasn't enough, turns out the locals are only half wrong about the invaders being monstrous in origin. A broods of genestealer that had been lying dormant when the spaceship crashed has been awoken by orbital macro cannon shelling, and established a cult within the local elements of the penal legion. As such, the acolytes won't know who to trust, as even the higher level captains and commissars could be infected.

The goal of this scenario is to challenge my players to find new solutions to problems but also reward them. Often times they find themselves aggressively looting and selling off the gear of the people they steal from, and the Psyker uses his "déjà vu" power to vastly inflate the change he is offered. Because the imperial guard only has a black market that is heavily scrutinIzed, looting could be very dagmngerous and will take coordination. Also, having the genestealer cult infiltrate the higher levels of regimental command prevents the acolytes from running to higher ups to solve their problems. The acolyte cell is also partial to drinking and whoring whenever they have the opportunity - it would be very unfortunate if they find themselves infected with Genestealer DNA. Finally, hinging the war in retrieving archeotech relics stops the issue of a "just blow them up" approach, and if the acolytes do end up destroying the relics, the Navy can issue an Extermnatus.

I don't want to stymie the players too much without offering some strong rewards however. Retrieving the relics should earn them not only some nifty loot but also perhaps the Good Reputation (Adeptus Mechanicus) Talent, along with promotions that could potentially get them released from the regiment. I'm not sure whether to try and bring some sort of Chaos influence into the scenario, given that it takes place in the ruins of a space hulk, but having two xenos presences and heretics is quite a lot already.

So what do people think! If any of this seems illogical let me know, and additionally if anyone has any fun ideas for enlcunters, sub-plots, or loot (specifically archeotech relics with unique abilities, not necessarily just weapons) then post em here!

All that sounds pretty solid. As for the Penal Legion stuff, there could well be several ways out. Obviously, there's dying in battle, or having their collars triggered. If one is tech-savvy, there's also disabling the collars and going AWOL (most effective if you do it during a deployment while well away from the rest of your unit or Loyalist lines). This has some risks, but their Inquisitor would probably be perfectly happy to redeploy them somewhere in a different sub-sector or whatever, significantly reducing the long-term risks they'd face. Extraordinary service that is recognized by their superiors could result in a pardon, or could give the Inquisitor a pretext either to order their release or to conscript them as acolytes (again). Finally, if everyone else dies, they can just walk away, eventually finding a way to get their collars removed.

The Genestealer cult gives you a nice in for keeping things DH instead of going in a full-on Only War direction. Plus, as you say, it gives you a way to inject a lot of risk into the situation, encouraging a bit more thought and caution.

Am i missing something or is the Inquisitor cutting them loose? Because if so the PCs might decide to go off the reservation, or the very least their motivation becomes survivial not helping the Imperium.

Something to bare in mind.

Am i missing something or is the Inquisitor cutting them loose? Because if so the PCs might decide to go off the reservation, or the very least their motivation becomes survivial not helping the Imperium.

Something to bare in mind.

It's what I'd do if I had a recon of the sorts that was huntin' me.

I prefer not to railroad players into obeying the inquisition if they don't want to. I couldn't care less if they go off the rails and turn into renegades, if that's what they want.

I prefer not to railroad players into obeying the inquisition if they don't want to. I couldn't care less if they go off the rails and turn into renegades, if that's what they want.

I've taken my group through a Penal Legion posting before. Only one character managed to survive the first mission. It is a great tool if they have been playing as murder hobos and have pissed you off. If they are being silly or just want to screw around, having them killed repeatedly until they get it out of their system works as well.

I prefer not to railroad players into obeying the inquisition if they don't want to. I couldn't care less if they go off the rails and turn into renegades, if that's what they want.

Sure but the players might want to work for the Inquisition (they are playing Dark Heresy afterall) but they don't know the justification for their scum character

In one sense your rail roading them by putting them into the Penal Legion in the first place. Also I don't know your players or characters but penal Legion is very restrictive and potentially character breaking. For example if I was a Noble born character I'd be a bit grumpy if the game suddenly shifted from Dark Heresy spies and intrigue to Battle of the Somme Only War

Having them shanghied into the Penal Legion might be a great fit for your group but I'd just have an exit strategy (I.e it lasts a session or two but you have a way of getting them out).

I gotta ask: How are consequences for actions railroading?

There are multiple ways to get out of a Penal Legion posting if you're smart. It's like a prison break, only easier, because you get guns and tools. The alternative in this case is a total party wipe, which is far more character breaking than a knob having to swallow his ego for a bit. If getting in deep **** is a problem, don't try to steal a ship with a bunch of people who don't know how to fly it!

Railroading is removing player choice. Good GMing will let the players choose what they want, but will have appropriate in-setting consequences for those actions. If that means they get summarily executed after being captured by their former Inquisitor or his representatives, then so be it. If it means that they die ignominiously on the front lines of an endless war against Orcs as Penal Legionnaires, then so be it. If it means they go full renegade and have to flee into the Screaming Vortex one step ahead of the authorities, then so be it.

Don't be afraid to have bad stuff happen if they make dumb choices.

That said, try to give them an out. If they're about to be executed, maybe one of them can fast-talk the Inquisitor into sending them on a suicide mission instead, or maybe they could submit to being mind cleansed. If they're sent to a Penal Legion, then maybe they can find a way to prove themselves to their new superiors, or perhaps they can find a way out of their collars, either to defect or to go AWOL. If they go Renegade, then simply whip out some Black Crusade stuff. Let them try to establish a warband and build a power base.

There's rail roading there's consequences and there's player expectations. Put it another way if because of my choices my adept player unexpectedly becomes a penal legionnaire I'd consider it appropriate and fair to either retire and roll up a new more appropriate character with equal experience points or be able to use a fate point to get a reprieve. Because an adept character in that situation is likely dead/useless.

I always tried to warn my players if their actions are totally stupid and would have serious consequences (ex. to the techpriest "According to your simulations you have a 0.2^-16% chance of success, you belive that going against these odds is illogical and thus against your creed"), naturally warnings rarely dissuade them... So i have made clear 2 rules:

1: i will not kill you for a failed roll, not for 2 or 3 but if you have a string of bad luck you will die;

2: i will not protect you from the consequences of your actions and i will actively punish you for your own stupidity.

I found that trying to save a group at all costs isn't educative for the players and eventually will lead to the death of the campaign anyway so i would advise against the idea of morphing the game into Only War, for a radical group that is quite easly a sure thicket for Black Crusade. That isn't bad per se but you should talk to your players about that twist and see if they are ok with it (especially because if the problem is stupid behavior changing game will not solve it).

Personally i would consider 2 paths:

1: they fail as predicted and are killed in action / caputred and summary executed (maybe some horde fighting and then some humiliating defeat, playing the thing in the most terrible and humiliating way possible for the players)

2: they are captured, mind cleansed and reused by inquisition (you could even tell them that they have been executed)

following the second option i would say that you can make them reroll their characters for the most part and then make them play after 10-20 years from their capture, you could even use their amnesia as a plot device and behind the scenes fill that time gap with interesting things to discover and maybe even switching player/character so the player with the heretek will find himself playing the psyker without knowing it!

Hey guys!

Loads of interesting conversation here. In case people are interested in what happened, I can share the tale. I think it might make for some good reads. I typed up a summary of the adventure and aftermath, but it's kind of long, so I understand if people aren't really interested in reading the outcome.

Go for it!

Some weeks ago, Inquisitor Mathayus Penn of the Ordo Hereticus received word from his superiors that Governor Benzroff of the hive world Knossos hadn’t logged his planetary tithes for weeks. Given that Penn’s acolyte cell was passing by, it fell to him to deal with the situation. His acolytes are as follows:

Lukas Ulrich, Schola Progenium Renegade Psyker. Son of a notable Imperial Commissar, and was nearly executed for his powers before being recruited by Penn, a hard radical, at the last second. Skilled chameleon, pyromancer and telepath.

Quint, an assassin from a nearby forge world in the same subsector, infamous for numerous hits conducted while on hire for the Adeptus Mechanicus, and a former armsman aboard an Explorator fleet.

Althea Mahliasaan, wyrd. Originally born in space before landing on a feral world, much of Thea’s childhood has been systematically erased by implementation of mind cleansing. Hired into the Inquisition for her abilities to invoke stark terror in everyone around her and her experience as an Imperial Guard veteran and mercenary.

Beatrice Alexander, noble born assassin, who sought out the Inquisition after the death of her father.

The acolyte cell arrived on the hive world in their Inquisitor’s hired vessel, The Nostradamus . Upon arriving, the acolyte cell immediately noticed a damaged ship docked in orbit, with debris from the shattered docks scattered around it. The ship, a vagabond-class merchant trader, was marked with the telltale violet-and-orange heraldry of the trading guild House Thix.

Seeing a potential prize worth scavenging, Ulrich and Quint snuck aboard the ship and discovered its hidden shadow-blind bay compartments, which were in turn hidden from the dock’s scanners by IR bafflers. Inside the hidden bays themselves, the acolytes made a horrible discovery – thousands of caged xenos predators, sabre-wolves, and proscribed beasts in serried ranks, with baleful warp-light rippling across their warp-twisted forms.

After interrogating one of the ship’s guards, Quint and Ulrich learned that, while the ship had been docked and unloading its cargo, some sort of projectile fired from the hive itself had impacted with the docks and damaged their craft, rupturing the ship’s warp drive. To prevent the bleedoff of warp-matter from being detected by the dock scanners, the ship’s command staff had opted to vent the reality-bending waste into the concealed bays, where the layers of electronic screening would hide it. However, this had the unfortunate side effect of corrupting the beasts horribly, transforming them into foul mutants.

As the two acolytes retreated from the ship, Thea and Beatrice inquired about the docks themselves. The chief Arbites captain on duty, Leonidas, only informed them that the docks had suffered a mechanical failure. When asked whether the damaged ship had been offered any aid, Leonidas explained that House Thix was subcontracted to the Imperial Warrant of a Rogue Trader, placing them outside the jurisdiction of the Adpetus Arbites and therefore able to refuse their attempts to board the craft. Clearly, there was something that House Thix didn’t want them to find, and Quint and Ulrich had already found it.

The cell made plans to infiltrate the governor’s palace using Beatrice’s noble connections to get her a job in his financial office, where she would be able to potentially access his records and find out where the hidden money had gone. She interviewed well and was given the job, due to start on Lion’s Day. That weekend, while Beatrice prepared, Quint and Thea went into the underhive searching for mercenary work. They were quickly hired – a mysterious new biker gang of pollution-mutants had been tearing across the underhive, laying waste to the holdouts of other gangs and scavenging all of their supplies, leaving few survivors. Despite the frightening tales of an enormous mutant raider leading the group, all four acolytes decided to pitch in to earn some extra thrones and helped fortify the warehouse of Langshatt, a local gang queen who was next on the biker’s tour of destruction.

The battle was fierce, and Quint himself nearly died of a close-quarters shotgun blast, and would then have been killed by shrapnel from his assailant’s ammunition cooking off had Beatrice not rescued him at the last second. As Ulrich threw deadly firebolts into the oncoming ranks of motorcycles, Thea hefted her tower shield and engaged the enemy leader. It took a tough fight to down the massive brute, and when they removed his scavenged helm they were rewarded with a very strange sight indeed. Flesh of putrid green, beady red eyes, and a maw of sharpened tusks – what kind of mutant was this? Unfazed, Thea mounted his bright red warbike, claiming it as a prize of war. Ulrich and Quint interrogated a survivor and obtained the coordinates of the gang’s base of operations.

While the other acolytes strategized over their next move, Quint went looking for more odd jobs with which to line his pockets with thrones. At an underhive bar, a mutant, who desired his technical expertise, approached him saying she was in need of an engineer. Intrigued, he followed the mutant and discovered an enormous den of mutant scum, who had been hard at work constructing some sort of improvised rocket ship. The bright red abomination of metal could not be completed, the mutants explained, as their leader had disappeared on the last raid to get supplies. The plot of the mutants was to use the rocket to reach the orbital docks, from where they would commandeer a ship and dive into unexplored space, seeking a haven from the spiteful Imperium. They had actually made a previous attempt at this a few weeks before, but the rocket had crashed into the hive’s orbital docks due to its malfunctioning piloting system, killing everyone aboard.

The other acolytes, having decided to investigate the coordinates provided to them by the survivor of the biker attack, soon arrived at the same compound, and a terrible realization was made – the acolytes themselves had killed these mutants’ leader, and now they asking Quint to finish what he had started. While Quint patched up the rocket using his forge worlder’s experience, Thea rode into the compound atop the slain warlord’s bike. With Quint’s promises that the rocket would fly better than ever, and Thea’s dominance over their former leader, the mutant gang agreed to work with the acolyte cell for the time being. After all, their “Boss” had always espoused a philosophy of survival of the fittest and the rule of the strongest, who in this case was clearly Thea. Unbeknownst to the mutants, Quint installed a cogitator system in the rocket that enabled it to be remotely piloted from his data-slate, ensuring that the mutants would go nowhere without his say-so.

As the week progressed, Beatrice and Ulrich infiltrated the governor’s palace, Ulrich using his chameleonic abilities and a newly acquired vox-bug to track the governor’s conversations. Eventually they confronted the governor and demanded he reveal his motives – why hadn’t he been paying his tithes? The governor revealed that in fact, he had been paying them from a number of blind accounts, and that he had only circumvented the usual channels to draw the attention of the Inquisition itself. The governor pointed out that, weeks before, a large projectile fired from the hive’s surface had damaged a docked trading ship, and that for some reason the ship was refusing to allow anyone aboard to help with repairs. Suspicious, the governor had tried to commandeer the ship for an Arbites investigation, but that too was blocked by the ship’s contraction to a Rogue Trader’s Imperial Warrant. Thus, the only authorities with the power to investigate were the Inquisition, and none of his direct calls for aid had been answered. Thus, he had taken to forgery to grab their attention.

The acolytes believed the governor, and informed him of what they had seen aboard House Thix’s ship. The governor explained that, with evidence he could bring an investigation to bear against them, but that acquiring such evidence would be near impossible – especially if the acolytes did not want to make an enemy. Inquisitor Penn warned them that he had no intention of becoming the foe of a Rouge Trader with fleets at his command, so the acolytes would need to use stealth to accomplish their aims, and ensure that the retrieval of said evidence couldn’t be traced back to them.

Meanwhile, the mutant rocketeers had grown impatient, and launched their rocket without waiting for the acolytes. Quint, in a stunning display of technical wizardy that would have made void-masters and engineseers alike weep with amazement, remotely piloted the ship off-course from his data-slate and locked it in stationary orbit over the docks, thus preventing them from reaching their destination. Satisfied that the mutants had been dealt with for the time being, the acolytes made plans to infiltrate the ship. Ulrich snuck aboard, invisible, and Thea enlisted with the ship’s barracks as a mercenary guard. As Ulrich made his way to the bridge, he stumbled across the ship’s captain and officers deliberating over the issue of the damaged warp drive and the mutant creatures. Eventually, the agreement was made to render down the beasts into meal-stuff and unload it along with the food shipments, with no one being any the wiser, despite the obvious risks associated with the hive’s populace consuming warp-contaminated meat.

Ulrich unleashed a psychic screech on the bridge, knocking the officers unconscious, and murdered them in their sleep. Ulrich skimmed the captain’s logs and discovered that the ship had been supplying fighting beasts and xenos to local underground rings, including a singular xenos creature called an “ork” which had escaped from its buyers into the underhive – and which he immediately recognized as the late leader of the biker gang. Next, Ulrich opened the shadowblind bays, releasing warp-taint and mutant beasts into the ship’s corridors! As panic broke out, Thea made a fighting escape, and Ulrich used his psychic powers to forge a familiar bond with one of the beasts, a Terran wolf that had developed psychic abilities as a result of the warp drive breach. This wolf, instructed by Ulrich, psychically called other wolves to its side, and the invisible Ulrich, Thea, and six mutant predators escaped the ship, scrambling onto the docks in a frenzy.

The dock workers shrieked with horror and fled, and the Arbites were able to put down most of the wolves as Beatrice, Ulrich and Thea commandeered an orbital shuttle. The acolytes, along with three mutated wolves, escaped the docks, and reached the hive’s surface. The governor declared that the escape of such horrible mutants from the ships’ bowels was more than enough to override the protections of the warrant of trade, and ordered a boarding action by a combined force of Adeptus Arbites and PDF. The ship, decapitated by the loss of its command staff, made as best a withdrawal as they could and then an emergency jump on their ruptured warp drive – the consequences of which, while positively nightmarish, are unknown. House Thix escaped, and the Rogue Trader later released a press statement decrying their actions and brandishing them as exiles. Meanwhile, Arbites raids in the underhive escalated as the Adeptus cleared out the fighting rings that Ulrich had found in the ship’s logs.

Thrilled by their success, Inquisitor Penn granted the acolyte cell the weekend off, with their new assignment to be issued the next Lion’s Day. The acolyte cell went on a tirade of mercenary work to make fast cash. The first job was, as usual, Quint’s. Hired by a local tech-priest to conduct a mass lobotomy and servitor conversion on fifty death row inmates, Quint’s conscience got the better of him and he ended up sparing ten of the subjects, using applied chemicals to fake their deaths. For the rest, he used the provided cortex implants to permanently lobotomize them. Then, offering the ten criminals a chance at redemption, he took them on board as his personal wards and retinue. Ulrich went to a local store to acquire gear for the new wards, while Beatrice and Thea took down a local heretek and salvaged its gun-servitor. This would prove to be the undoing of a week’s worth of stellar progress.

Later that night, on the Raven’s Day, Quint was bent double over the servitor, replacing its damaged neurological components and salvaging its weapon systems. Finally, he connected it to his data slate and attempt to subvert its programming, deactivating its security settings. The hack failed horribly. The servitor, now fully repaired, kick-started on hostile mode on the operating table and released a full magazine of twin-linked autgoun rounds into Quint’s gut, spewing gore across the laboratory and sending him keeling to the ground. Ulrich destroyed the servitor with a blast of fire, but the damage had been done. Quint was clearly very, very, dead.

As Quint’s soul disengaged from his body he blindly called out to someone, anyone, for help. He had never believed the Mechanicus drivel about an all-powerful Machine God, preferring to put his faith in true science. However, as his soul made the transition into the swirling hell-stuff of the warp, he found himself in his mind’s eye back on his home world. Waiting for him was an elderly, well-dressed and bearded man, reminiscent of the carpetbaggers of old Terra. However, something was wrong. The man’s teeth and nails were black and sharp, and his eyes were dark pits of shadow in his face. The man introduced himself as Zachariah, and offered Quint a bargain – the return of his soul to his body, for a favor later down the road. Suspicious but intrigued, Quint asked for more details, and Zachariah revealed that he possessed a long-running history with the man known as Mathayus Penn. For saving Quint’s life, Zachariah demanded that Quint later save Zachariah’s own life from Penn’s schemes, doing whatever was necessary, even if it required him to kill. Quint specified that he would not kill his fellow acolytes, or his Inquisitor, although he did not name Penn specifically. Zachariah readily agreed. Finally, Quint requested a portion of Zachariah’s otherworldly power, and a mark by which he could later contact the daemon – for, by now, Quint had realized that the entity he was talking to was an agent of the ruinous powers. Zachariah agreed, and with his blackened nails carved a sigil into the back of Quint’s right shoulder, although at the time Quint could not see what it was.

Quint awoke on the floor, drenched in his own blood, but thoroughly changed. His mind felt twisted, corrupted, and his skin was marked with furrowed wrinkles and lines, as though decayed, and had taken on a strange metallic tinge. Carved into his back was a strange series of geometric marks, a tattoo of what looked like metal woven under his skin. After examining it, Quint realized what it was – the blueprint of a cortex implant, just like the ones he had used earlier to lobotomize the servitors. What could this mean? What was Zachariah’s relation to Inquisitor Penn? And how long before the other acolytes discovered his secret?

If anyone is interested in the game mechanics of Quint’s dark pacts, I allowed him to return to life without having to burn a fate point, as the poor guy only has one from character creation, in return for the promise of protecting Zachariah from Penn at some later date. Additionally, Quint’s player chose to make a second dark pact that would give him the option of selecting a few additional powers, and the Forbidden Lore (Dameonology) skill, to represent further boons granted by Zachariah. In return, he would owe Zachariah more favors. For now we decided to keep it fairly vague to avoid bogging down the game too much, with the exact details to be worked out between us later. From the pact, he earned 34 Corruption Points 20+1d10+Fear4 Warp Shock, and the following malignancies: Skin Afflictions and Dark Hearted. Additionally because we are using the alternate corruption track from the Radical’s Handbook, he rolled Horror’s Companion and now counts all Fear as being one level higher – which is less than ideal given that one of his fellow acolytes already causes Fear 2!

I hoped you enjoyed the tale of the acolyte’s endeavors. If anyone is interested in hearing more of their misadventures, I can post them here, as rest assured I have plenty of schemes in store for them now that they’ve made an ally of a daemon.

So this went pretty well in the end, player seem to invest themselves, and work hard for what they want, and fairly accept the consequences of what they do.

Finally, there was no problem of boarding a ship in a stupid way?

Nice game report!