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Confirming Ghent's words with an affirmative grunt, Yeng slapped Teralil on the pauldron to signal him to follow, then broke into a run. Sabaan sprinted past him, the Iron Hand's heavy boots kicking up dust and grit from the chill air.

 

"Avoid dying a few moments more, Rodrik. There are more virtuous acts to perform yet!" 

 

The Gatebreaker gave the corner of the crate a wide berth, tracking the boltgun to cover Sabaan; and bring the Invaders' attackers into view.

Edited by Apologist

ROUND 4, CONTINUED

 

Tyber:

Full Action: Run

 

Oto Yeng:

Full Action: Run

 

Solastion:

Half-Action: DELAY

 

Cultist Horde 1

Full Action: Charge Ghent

WS30(+10, Charge): 45 (MISS)

WS30(+10, Charge): 6 (HIT)

Close Combat Weapons: 2D10+3 Pen 0: 7,4 (14) against TB8 and Armour 8: No damage sustained

 

Genestealer 2

Half-Action: Aim

Half-Action: Standard Attack (WS65+10): 43

Ghent attempts to parry with his chainsword: WS51(+10 Guarded Attack, +10 Balanced Weapon): 60 (PASS)

 

Atratus:

- Successful Parry (negating prior Damage)

- Genestealer 3 attempts to dodge (AG60+10): 78 (FAIL)

- Hit 1: 22 Damage against TB6 and Armour 8(5): 11 Damage

- Genestealer 3 is killed

 

Montesa:

Charge Genestealer 2

WS: 52(+10 Hatred, +10 Hunter of Aliens, +10 Charge): 42 (4 DoS)

Genestealer 2 attempts to Dodge (AG60+10): 38 (PASS)

 

Teralil:

Full Action: Run

 

Genestealer 1:

Half-Action: AIM

Half-Action: Standard Attack against Ghent

WS65(+10): 98 (MISS?!)

 

END OF ROUND 4

 

 

ROUND 5 BEGINS

 

Rodrik Ghent:

Hemmed in from every side by the jostling hordes of the cult, Ghent lashes out once more with his chainsword:

Guarded Attack against Genestealer 1

WS51(-10): 1 (HIT?!)

Genestealer 1 attempts to Dodge: AG60(+10): 24 (PASS)

Ghent is at +10 to Parry and Dodge

 

Varvost:

Charge action against Cultists 1

AG test to activate Wings of Angels: 97 (FAIL)

WS72(+10 Charge, +10 Hunter of Aliens): 93 (FAIL)

Fate Point re-roll: 12 (PASS, 8 DoS)

Varvost hits 5 Times (1 Hit, +4 Additional)

Eradicator Chain-axe does 1D10+15 (Pen 3) Damage (Tearing, Flesh Render): 5 Magnitude Damage, doubled by Whirlwind of Death to 10 (now Magnitude 17)

 

 

 

Uwkm0EH.png

 

 

STATUS

[X] Rodrik Ghent | SOLO | AG60 (6) + 10 = 16 | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 1/2

[X] Vârvost | SOLO | AG54 (5) + 10 = 15 | WOUNDS 24/24 | FATE 2/3

[-] Daon Akkad | SQUAD | AG45 (4) + 10 = 14 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/4

[-] Brakan Vorr | SQUAD | AG50 (5) + 8 = 13 | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 3/4

[-] Greysight | SQUAD | AG43 (4) + 9 = 13 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 5/5

[-] Nycax Sabaan | SQUAD | AG43 (4) + 9 = 13 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/3

[-] Tyber | SOLO | AG48 (4x2) + 4 = 12 | WOUNDS 16/18(20) | FATE 3/5

[-] Oto Yeng | SQUAD | AG40 (4) + 8 = 12 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/3

[-] Solastion Albikus | SOLO | AG33 (3x2) + 5 = 11 | WOUNDS 23/23 | FATE 3/4

[-] Cultist Horde 1 | AG3 + 7 = 10 | MAGNITUDE 17

[-] Genestealer 2 | AG6 + 3 = 9 | WOUNDS 20/20

[-] Atratus | SQUAD | AG70 (7) + 2 = 9 | WOUNDS 21/23 | FATE 3/3

[-] Guillermo Montesa | SOLO | AG49 (4) + 5 = 9 | WOUNDS 18/23 | FATE 2/2(+1)

[-] Morthas Teralil | SQUAD | AG40 (4) + 5 = 9 | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 4/4

[-] Genestealer 1 | AG6 + 1 = 7 | WOUNDS 20/20

+PLACEHOLDER+

 

Akkad stands tall, enraged by the cowardly charge of the hideous mutated Xenos, he limbers his Flamer and opens up with Cadence.

Free Action: Holster Flamer
Free Action: Enter Squad Mode.
Full Action: FAB Target GS1.
BS 52 +20(FAB) +10 (Range) -20 (CQB) = 62
D100 Roll: 015, Pass, 4 DoS = 5 Hits.
Allocation:
GS One 2 x Hits
GS Two 2 x Hits
Horde 1 1 x Hit + Explosive Hit +1D5 UnDev.

Damage: 1D10 (2D10 Tearing) + 12 (Dam) + 2 (MS)
All hits resolved at Pen 5.

 

Target 1: Genestealer 1


Hit Location: Right Arm
Damage: 19
Ht Location: Left Arm/2nd Right Arm
Damage: 22

Total Dam: 41

 

Target 2: Genestealer 2

Hit Location: 016 - Right Arm
Damage: 20
Ht Location: Left Arm/2nd Right Arm
Damage: 21

Total Dam: 41
 

Target 3: Horde 1

Damage: 20
Explosive: 4

Unrelenting Devastation: 3

Total Dam: 25/2 Hits + 3 Mag Dam.

 

MR.

From his place on the container, Tyber watched as Akkad’s work with his heavy bolter bit into the four armed beasts and the remaining horde of fools, switching to the squad level vox network, he called out to Atratus; +Atratus, can you secure that truck? The cannon on it could be useful when they beasts make planet fall.+

 

With his words on the wind, Tyber launched himself at the closest of the four armed beasts, swinging with the onyx slab to allow for daylight to shine off of the word Invicto on the central fuller of his blade.

 

OOC:

Charge attack against Genesteeler #2

TN: 64 (54WS +10 charge action)

Charge attack TN 64 against Genesteeler #2: 1d100 57 Hit

 

Location 75 Right Leg (Tyber seems to be a bit of a limb hunter…:huh.: )

 

Damage: 1d10+22 (1d10+5 base+15 from SB as Tyber is still in Codex Feat of Strength+2 from PA)

Arming sword damage: 1d10+22 32 RF! Auto confirm

Arming sword RF damage: 1d10 6

 

Total Damage: 38 Pen 3 Rending

Edited by Steel Company

ROUND 5, CONTINUED

 

Daon Akkad:

Free Action: Holster Flamer

Free Action: Enter Squad Mode.

Full Action: FAB Target GS1.

Allocation:

GS One 2 x Hits

GS Two 2 x Hits

Horde 1 1 x Hit + Explosive Hit +1D5 UnDev.

 

Target 1: Genestealer 1

Hit 1: Damage 19, Pen 5 against TB6 and Armour 8(3): 10 Wounds (10/20)

Hit 2: Damage 22, Pen 5 against TB6 and Armour 8(3): 13 Wounds (-3/20)

- The target's arm is destroyed...

- Genestealer takes 3 Levels of Fatigue

 

Target 2: Genestealer 2

Hit 1: Damage 20, Pen 5 against TB6 and Armour 8(3): 11 Wounds (9/20)

Hit 2: Damage 21, Pen 5 against TB6 and Armour 8(3): 12 Wounds (-3/20)

- Target's arm is destroyed...

- Genestealer takes 3 Levels of Fatigue

 

Target 3: Horde 1

5 Magnitude Damage (your post wasn't entirely clear and so I'm sticking with this!) down to 12

 

Brakan Vorr:

Half Action: AIM

Half Action: Standard Attack (Krak Missile) against Genestealer Goliath

BS58(+10, Aim, +30 Size): 82 (HIT)

Krak Missile is 3D10+10X (Pen 8): 4,8,10(RF:5): 37 against Armour 10(2)

Goliath explodes in a fireball (sorry Tyber!)

 

Greysight

Greysight advances with bolter raised towards the wreckage of the Goliath, ensuring its crew are killed.

 

Nycax Sabaan:

Full Action: Called Shot against Genestealer 1:

BS51(+10 Range, -20 Called Shot, -20 Melee Combat): 22(MISS)

Fate Point spend to gain a Degree of Success and Hit

1D10+9X Pen 4 against the Head: 10(RF:4): 23 Damage against TB6 and Armour 8(4): 13 Damage

Genestealer 1 is felled.

 

Tyber:

Genestealer 2 is killed.

 

Cultists 1:

Cultists break and are cut down in short order by the Astartes.

 

 

COMBAT ENDS

 

 

STATUS

Daon Akkad | AG45 (4) | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/4

Rodrik Ghent | AG60 (6) | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 1/2

Vârvost | AG54 (5) | WOUNDS 24/24 | FATE 2/3

Brakan Vorr | AG50 (5) | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 3/4

Greysight | SQUAD | AG43 (4) + 9 = 13 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 5/5

Nycax Sabaan | SQUAD | AG43 (4) + 9 = 13 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 2/3

Tyber | SOLO | AG48 (4x2) + 4 = 12 | WOUNDS 16/18(20) | FATE 3/5

Oto Yeng | SQUAD | AG40 (4) + 8 = 12 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/3

Solastion Albikus | SOLO | AG33 (3x2) + 5 = 11 | WOUNDS 23/23 | FATE 3/4

Atratus | SQUAD | AG70 (7) + 2 = 9 | WOUNDS 21/23 | FATE 3/3

Guillermo Montesa | SOLO | AG49 (4) + 5 = 9 | WOUNDS 18/23 | FATE 2/2(+1)

Morthas Teralil | SQUAD | AG40 (4) + 5 = 9 | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 4/4

It takes a moment for the Manufactorum building to quiet down. The sounds of the dead reverberate throughout the pipework for a fraction of a second, living on as audible ghosts for a moment longer.

 

Without the noise of bolterfire, the scream of chainswords and jump pack engines, the silence is eerie.

 

Now, at last, it seems the scattered forces of the Cult are eradicated. You have struck a blow in return for the explosion that injured Tyber and Atratus, but you know there are many more - countless many more - of the Tyranids approaching the world.

These were the moments Sabaan cherished the most. With his autosenses no longer registering any active targets, the Iron Hand allowed himself a moment of respite as he calmly reloaded and sub-vocalized the rites of post battle benedictions. He took solace in the satisfied hum of his armour, standing defiant and unbroken among the bodily wreckage of the xenos and their deluded gen-cult. The Inevitability of Iron had prevailed over their squishy organic Creed.

Yet, something was ... missing. Sabaan re-focused on the situation at hand. He let his Augur sensorium run two additional sweeps. Nothing. The status runes of the Killteam remained their steady orange glow. Potential hostile. Minor damage. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

As he watched the other Astartes go through their post battle rites, Sabaan suddenly realized what he was missing. He has been waiting for Vaidan to give some sort of speech. A snorted burst broke from his respirator. Glancing at the runes relaying the data from the Watch Seargeant's warplate not which they had cast the bulk of the Dragon, Nycax found himself opening the team's vox channel:

 

++ No active threat remaining. Thus perish all enemies of the Omnissiah, the Primarch and the Emperor!++

 

He ignored the echoes on his thoughtstream. Now, he felt, Watch Sergeant Vaidan could rest, knowing that Blackthorn's original mission had been fulfilled, no matter what would else they would face in the days ahead.

Tyber looked around at what was left from the skirmish, calling it a battle felt wrong on some level as this was an one sided execution, pulling his helm free, he looked to the squad and gave them a genuine smile, something that he had not really show to any of them aside from Akkad. Pointing to each of them in turn with the tip of his black blade, “Today we showed these beasts what the Emperor’s vision was, the Legions working as one. The might of the First, the skills of the Star Hunters and Raven Guard, the unrelenting determination of the Imperial Fists and Storm Walkers, the leadership and martial skill of the Blood Angles and the flexibility of the War-Born.”

 

Placing his arming sword in his scabbard, he rubbed the back of his head with his right hand before he continued, “I know what I say likely sounds silly to all of you, talking of those long past, I mean no disservice to any of you or your chapters. Rather it is the way of my Chapter and in my way I honour all of you for all we have done, even those of us that are not here with us in this moment.”

 

Putting both hands on his loaner helm, Tyber rolled it to face him and bring it to his forehead and said softer, “We still have much to do; we can rest when we are dead.”

 

Placing the helm back on, he opened the vox channel to the Librarian, “Brother, when we return to our makeshift camp, there is something I wish to show you and speak to you about.”

Edited by Steel Company

Solastion's words, Sabaan's mien after his battle postscript.

 

His attention was stolen when the Ahu spoke, weighing his words carefully in the voice of one treading unsteady floorboards, awaiting the betraying squeak.

"Today we showed these beasts what the Emperor’s vision was, the Legions working as one. The might of the First, the skills of the Star Hunters and Raven Guard, the unrelenting determination of the Imperial Fists and Storm Walkers, the leadership and martial skill of the Blood Angels and the flexibility of the War-Born.”

 

Tyber sheathed the Oathblade, continued with growing boldness and surety, “I know what I say likely sounds silly to all of you, talking of those long past, I mean no disservice to any of you or your chapters. Rather it is the way of my Chapter and in my way I honour all of you for all we have done, even those of us that are not here with us in this moment.”

 

At the mention of other Chapters, he felt the weight of the Flamer at his back, the sigils of a Chapter foreign to him, but a fellow sailor upon the sea of stars.  Another weight sat on Tyber's hip, the loaned Bolt Pistol.  More weight sat over Solastion's shoulders, the cloak of responsibility.  As the other Astartes gathered in the deafening silence as the bolters ceased and the revving of chainswords died, Akkad used the height of the truck as a pulpit, his eyes straying to the weight of another missing from their number, teeth looped at a belt.

 

At the mention of Legions, he and the Iazu shared a look, as Akkad remembered the awkwardness in explaining his own idiosyncrasies.

 

He locked Cadence off, to his backpack, idly checked his holsters and pouches were closed.  He removed his helm to smell detonated propellant, the miasma of screaming, rent flesh and contorted bone from the demolition of ordnance only the Astartes used.  Grim-faced and solemn, he made his tone match the coolness of his eyes.  Their minds were on comrades.  That must be utilised, especially in the wake of Tyber's cultural largesse.  He waited until the younger Marine had finished.  Another heartbeat and a nod to the younger Marine in approval.

 

"Brother Tyber speaks of those apart from us.  He has spoken well.  We must find Thorvald."  He glanced again at Solastion, but his head dipped in deference to the station of the Apothecary.  "My Healer, as we fell to the soil of this world, we heard your Oath to recover his Legacy.  I ask your leave to search for him."

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham

"There are no more Legions Dragon, for good reason. The Tyranids are coming so our time is short but I will assist you in searching for your fallen Battle Brother. We leave no Space Marine behind."

 

It had felt good to be back on solid ground fighting the xenos as weak as these foes were, there was something unsatisfying about fighting in the confines of a voidship. Vorr couldn't sit idly by waiting for the enemy to make planetfall he might as well join Akkad and whoever else was going to find the missing Marine, he had the taste of battle and wanted more they could get lucky and come across some Tyranid vanguard creatures. He locked his missile launcher to his backpack and checked Echion's bolt pistol was secure at his hip, the Storm Giant would have enjoyed the fact he was still killing xenos after his own death.

Vârvost's shrug to Akkad's words is insouciant, the Eradicator turning to inspect the fallen foes. With a flick of his wrist the chain-axe is cleared of gore, globs of filth and ichor splattering the metal plating of the Manufactorum's floor. He says nothing as he sheaths his weapon and moves away. Edited by Commissar Molotov

DAY 23

 

For Solastion, the next few days are a haze of statistical charts, logistical overviews and cogitator-screeds. Endless lists upon endless lists of food supplies, defense projections and medical lists. Projected timelines and estimated casualties, PDF levy numbers, ammunition expenditures, reports on the naval defenses and appraisals of the additional troops provided by Captain Desiato. Each of you contributes to the defense, but it is a peculiarly challenging thing to sit at the centre of this web of information like a spider in the midst of its web. It is a taxing thing to know that your decisions will determine the life or death of millions across the world.

 

On the morning of the twenty-third day, tolling bells summon you to the war-room, where once more you see the flickering hololithic displays. This time you see a representation of Fleet-Captain Locke, rendered in grey-green light that steals any softness out of her face and leaves her looking like the ideal of an Imperial hero.

 

"The first Tyranid bio-ships have entered the system. We are moving to meet the threat," Locke says, "and we will be within range momentarily. The Emperor Protects."

Tyber stood towards the back of the room, watching. On some level he understood the basics of void war, but it wasn’t an area that he had been heavily trained in, that was an area that the Third and Fourth companies of the Dragons specialized in, each of their six companies had their specialties after all. The First was always in the heaviest of fighting with their Tactical Dreadnought Armour, the Second behaved more like a Mechanized Cavalry unit meant to find the heart of the enemy and drive a blade through it, the Third manned the ships and strike craft of the chapter. While the Fourth were a boarding force that had even gone as far as to keep their boarding shields with a custom bullpup style bolter that was designed for one handed use, the Fifth were their tank crews often working closely with the Second company as both found their skills complemented each other, the Sixth… Tyber shook his head, from what he knew of them, they seemed less like him and more like Greysight or Atratus, solo hunters that would range deep behind the lines to spot and mark targets for the First, Second and Fifth companies to destroy.

 

His eyes landed on the display that was showing the fleet and the aliens closing on one another and he found himself thinking on a question that felt silly and odd, would the Imperial fleet use the space version of S.E.A.D., or better would they even need too? Do these space beasts even have a way to strike at strike craft and torpedoes?

 

He wanted to ask, but he had seen how such questions resulted in ridicule from Varvost in the past, he found himself thinking on some of the words from chapter seven of the book Twenty Lessons of Twenty Sons: Best to stay silent and thought a fool, then to speak and remove all doubt, when facing something one is not familiar with.

 

With a heavy sigh, he found himself feeling anxious to get to a point where he could be useful against this threat. These days had been left with more questions than answers; one of the questions he found himself wanting an answer was if the Librarian had, had his chance to inspect that book yet. The more he thought on that book, the more it bothered him, he could recall at least something about every book he had ever read, yet the only thing about that one he could recall was having read it.

 

Closing his eyes he shook his head, telling himself, Now is not the time to be thinking about such things. He refocused on the display to watch the battle unfold so high above him.

+++NO THREAT REMAINING+++

 

The text scrolled out across Teralil's visor as the last of the xenos were exterminated. He gave a grunt of approval. It was a fine moment indeed.

 

He waited patiently and listened as the other Astartes went through their post-battle rituals. He stifled a grimace as Tyber spoke of the War-Born. Those days were long past, and for good reason.

 

He looked over at Sabaan, and sent across a single blurt of binary:

 

++01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01000110 01101100 01100101 01110011 01101000 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01010111 01100101 01100001 01101011 00101100 00100000 01100010 01110010 01101111 01110100 01101000 01100101 01110010 00101110++

 

Now all they had to do was prepare and wait for the hive fleet to arrive.

"The Emperor Protects, Captain Locke. May the Great Angel look upon you and yours favorably. Godspeed and good hunting. Keep us informed if anything changes." He salutes the Hologram as he changes the display to the tactical display showing the movements of the fleets.

 

"And, so it begins Brothers. So it begins..." as he leaned forward to rest both hands upon the hololithic console.

A naval battle is a wondrous and terrible thing, even rendered here in hololithic light. You watch as the King of Kings, supported by the frigates Saint Orestes and Thricebound, advance in an arrowhead formation, sparkling annotation-indicators bracketing torpedo volleys as they speed ahead. It seems stately, serene, even balletic. Achingly slowly, you watch as the icons move towards the glowing red Tyranid forces.

 

It is forty-seven minutes into the conflict that you receive grainy pict-captures of the Tyranid bio-ships. They are familiar enough to the warriors of Blackthorn, similar to the original Kraken-craft that attacked and crippled the Voice of Thunder. Creatures of ice-encrusted chitin and bloated flesh, feeder tentacles probing speculatively, cataracted eyes the size of city-blocks focused on the Imperial craft. You see the staggered percussive blasts as the first torpedoes detonate against their armoured shells, followed by more and yet more. One craft spirals away, gouting clouds of yellow liquid that shroud its alien form. More endure; enough of the alien bio-ships keep coming.

 

++Withdraw to these co-ordinates. Concentrate fire on the lead craft.++ Locke's voice is clipped, and there is no sense of fear or concern in her measured tones. Nothing to betray how well or badly the void-war is going.

 

++Orestes has sustained minor damage to its drive-clusters.++ Another voice on the vox-net. ++Progress is slowed.++

 

++Throne! Get back in formation now.++ Locke, again.

 

++These alien bastards are closing. Maintaining maximal offensive output.++ This from Utomo, of the Thricebound. ++Orestes is falling behind.++

 

You can see on the holo-table that the Firestorm frigate Saint Orestes is vulnerable, see the Tyranid forces preparing to encircle and crush it whole. And then -

 

++Not to worry, Fleet-Captain. The Glory Be is here.++

 

Your occulobe compensates as for a moment the pict-capture turns white, burnt-out by a column of light that leaves behind an afterglow for a few seconds. The lead Bio-ship rears back near-instantly, cored like an over-ripened fruit. You see the sleek dagger-like ship of Desiato's vessel punching through the dead bio-vessel, the formerly hardened shell now splintering under the force of the armoured prow.

 

++Is that a Nova Cannon?++ Locke's voice is incredulous, her iron resolve just as broken as the Tyranid fleet. ++On a light cruiser?++

 

++Money buys a great many things, Captain,++ Desiato responds, ++but a moment like that may just be priceless.++

 

++We are returning to the mid-system,++ Locke replies. These initial forces were just probing our defenses, but there will be more coming soon.++

Atratus watched the battle unfold silently. Though the frigate had been saved he could not help but feel that the xenos had won this engagement, their scouting forces had identified a threat to their more powerful ships and the main fleet would be prepared.

Yeng sat and, in his way, prayed. A pair of tallow candles in the small wall-shrine remained unlit. From a rudely-welded bracket a few feet in front of him, a brazier hung on three small chains. Two whisper-thin pseudo-parchments, each penned with a single yantra pattern, were draped over his bare shoulders. The dim glow of the scented fuel within provided the room with the only light; its gentle movements sending shadows lazily scudding around the room. He ran the string of beads through his hands, his eyes closed and lips moving in a half chant-half hum. 

 

He sat this way for some hours after waking. At length, he stopped his half-chant, and sat for a few more minutes in silence. Rolling his shoulders and neck to dispel stiffness, he opened his eyes and cast the yantra-parchments into the brazier. He didn't wait to see them burn, but began replacing his armour in the darkness.

 

At length, Yeng called for the arming servitor he had requested. Eyeless, one-armed and second-line, he had named it – in the fashion of the Gatebreakers – Blos Khel Po. He greeted it politely. The servitor, of course, made no response. With a tight smile, Yeng turned and held up his arms, allowing Khel Po to reach under and make the final inaccesible bolts secure. When it had finished, Yeng turned to face the servitor. Pressing his palms together and giving it a respectful nod, he dismissed it.

 

+++

 

The effects of the incense stayed with him. Reaching the strategium last of all, he watched the actions of the void war re-play silently on a sub-screen of his hood while the others discussed. He held his peace while Greysight outlined his suspicions of the Rogue Trader – only nodding to confirm the truth of his battle-brother's words.

 

As the briefing drew to an end, Yeng finally spoke.

"As the sage Imba had it; 'Better once to see than many times to hear.' I fear now that I will not hear Brother Thorvald; but would neverthless deny his body being lost to the xenos. This is properly your place, brother-priest; but I would shoulder the duty – if you will permit it."

Edited by Apologist

Akkad shifted, subtly from one foot to the other as Yeng spoke up in his unique way, relating a tale from some great Soothsayer of a tribe from his world.  Akkad smile - the ways of such wizened old men was repeated upon many planets that Humanity called home, even his own had the tradition, albeit more of contextual concept.  He straightened as much as his smaller frame would allow, especially next to the tower of menace that formed the 'Giant' as Greysight was want to call Tyber.

 

 

Daon's green eyes watched the opening salvos of the void war, such tactics and might on display all-too-familiar.  The Nova Cannon was a surprise though.  It heightened his disquiet over the Rogue Trader, one it appeared the others shared.  His mind wandered back over his meeting with General Wrex and his well-displayed reticence to relinquish any vessels to the command of proven fleet Captain.  it was understandable, assets like close-in orbital batteries were always the prizes to be fought over for commanders ina  ground war, but something was off.  He just couldn't place it.  He quietly moved over to the Iazu.

 

"My Healer, Brother Apothecary Yeng and Brothers Vorr and Tyber," he nodded to the big Marine, "have offered to assist in recovery of the Wolf.  I'd like to go to the Spaceport, use the augurs there, as suggested by Atratus to follow the descent of the shuttle and triangulate his position.  We can also assess the air-defences whilst we're there?"  His eyebrows lifted in query, but his face took on an odd light.

"Should I notify the General?"

 

MR.

WIthout turning away from the hololithic display but his fists visibly clenching and unclenching upon the railing he leaned forwards on, Solastion let out a disappointed sigh; who it was meant for was anyone's guess.

 

"As much as I would have liked to have more time to see to recovering Brother Thorvald properly, it seems the tyranids will not be giving us this opportunity."

"Brother Yeng, Vorr and Tyber, you have my blessing to proceed with the recovery attempt but time will be of the utmost essence. Should you be cut off when the Tyranids make planetfall..." He trails off before resuming. 

"Distasteful and disrespectful as it may be, we will have to account for the possibility that you will be forced to abandon your search and return here with all due haste; we cannot risk losing any more of us. Understood?" He said, finally turning to face the assembled marines.

 

 

 

"Should I notify the General?"

 

 

"Go ahead, but patch me into the communication."

 

"As it currently stands, dealing with the Rogue Trader is currently beyond our means but, we will be generating a report of our interactions with the man for Inquisitorial review and I am personally curious to hear any concerns regarding him and his vessel in greater detail at a later date. That said, I am glad that we have a Nova Cannon on our side."

 

"Finally, while he currently is of rather negligible consequence, the Interrogator is decidedly made conspicuous by his absence. Keep an eye out for him but I currently see no reason to hunt down the man."

 

"Brothers Teralil or Sabaan, if one or both of you could lend us your expertise in triangulating Brother Thorvalds possible landing zone it would be very much appreciated."

Akkad allowed the disappointment to fade into the aether.  His left eyebrow pitched up a notch in query, but otherwise his face remained impassive.  He tapped his right fist to the left side of his breastplate, head nodding in obeisance.

 

"By your will, My Healer."  He turned on his heel, pulling his helm over his head.  A rune flexed into his vision, harsh, angular Badabian. Ahu.

+Shall we take 212 for a quick turn to the Spaceport?+  He suggested, a smile pulling at his lips.  He accessed Squad Vox, this time with appropriate sobriety.

++Which Scion of Mars attends us?++  His head swivelled to the Red Talon.  ++Brother Vorr, how is your driving?++

 

MR.

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