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Briefing room beta was a largish space that took up two decks in height.  Most of the seating was tiered so that everyone could get a good view of the holographic projection at the front of the space.  While it was designed to hold a dozen astartes and 2 score mortals it currently held many less.

 

Captain Nuzry stood at the front, speaking with Magos Tyrthon and another man who from his robes appeared to be the Navis Nobilite liaison.  A clearly military officer was nearby in conversation with a senior mortal Medicus.  A pair of tactical officers and a scribe rounded out the senior staff, while a dozen or so aides and assistants sat further back.

 

When the Captain saw that the astartes had arrived, she indicated for the staff to take their seats then nodded to the Navis Nobilite liaison.

 

"We find ourselves in an unnamed star system between two and three dozen light years east of the Isstvan system.  As far as we can tell, we are the first humans to ever set foot in it.  The question is where we go from here and based off the paths within the warp that are open to us there are three options."

 

Captain Nuzry jumped in, "Before we get into detail on where next, I believe it is important that we establish our current status.  Jez, what is the condition of Astropath Felson."

 

"We are lowering the sedation but it will take hours before she is conscious and coherent.  These things can't be rushed if we don't want to risk more permanent damage.  Especially for one with her gifts the sedation had to be very heavy."

 

the Captain nodded as if she already knew that information.  "And Lanc, how are we provisioned?"

 

The scribe stood, "Captain, we were fully restocked before the trip to Isstvan, other than a few minor things the ship and crew should require nothing for at least 4 months.  I understand that Captain Idys stripped their stocks bare for the Isstvan landing."

 

"Magos?"

 

"The primary bridge is nearly completely destroyed, without a proper dockyard it will take an estimated 12.473 weeks to repair, we do have the forward void generators back to 87.154% effectiveness."

 

"Colonel Bayal?"

 

"My armsmen took only a few loses, every sub-unit of the regiment is combat effective."

 

"So back to the question of where next."

 

"Yes captain, the first option is Ghellion V, a tertiary Industrial world, second is Phastus II, a secondary agri-world, the last is the Phelorak system, a mechanicum outpost vassaled to Forgeworld Mezoa.  The data on each system should be on your dataslates.  Note that most of our database for this region is approximately 50 years old."

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Name: Ghellion V

Type: Industrial World, 3rd class

Tithe Grade: Quartus

Population: 700,000,000

Other Information: Tithe includes Malcador Heavy Tanks and “Mechanized formations”.  Planetary Governor Merkus Steelhand, veteran of the Great Crusade, not Terran, expeditionary fleet commander.  Files indicate that he was a battalion commander in 813 in support of the VIth Legion, brigade commander in 821, seconded to a newly found (but unnamed) Primarch’s support forces in 822, gap in records from 823 to 852 when his file states he became an expeditionary fleet commander.  Became planetary governor of Ghellion V in 951.


 

Name: Phastus II

Type: Agriworld, 2nd class

Tithe Grade: Tertius

Population: 185,000,000

Other Information: Tithe includes Rust Sea Kelp and Ur-Yek Milk products.  Garrisoned by a squad of the IVth Legion.

Note from the Office of the Imperial Nutritionist: fried Rust Sea Kelp and salted Ur-Yek butter provides all the nutrients required for human life.

Note from the Adeptus Terra: When adjusted for other factors non-combat or illness related deaths are 7% higher in units rationed long term on the tithe of Phastus II.  Recommend that they be used in Mechanicum, Abhuman and punishment units.

 

 

Name: Phelorak system

Type: Mechanicum Outpost

Tithe Grade: Mechanicus Exemptus

Population: unknown

Other Information: Vassaled to the Forge World Mezoa

 

Old Bert and Willum had followed the instructions that they had been given by the Space Marine. However when they got to the Apothecary, the doctor wasn't in attendance.

 

"Look, I'll wait for him Willum. I is senior" said Old Bert. "You go back to the Sleeping Knight, keep a look out."

 

"Do the?"

 

"Yes I'll ask the Doc about the Ravens and the Nine Sisters!" Old Bert said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by Machine God
Typo

Arazakiel

 

"Our priority is to report the events of Istvaan and spread word of the warmasters betrayal", Arazakiel considered the worlds in range, "but the traitors will move to secure armaments and repair their own vessels. The forges of Ghellion V must be secured or silenced."

 

The warmasters influence would spread from Istvaan like a cancer, but he would seek to secure the surface first. What little time that bought them might perhaps suffice to intercept a damaged vessel withdrawn from battle or to ensure they did not find safe harbour, though it seemed likely that those forces on Phastus II would already be readying the populace to replace their losses. Doubtful they would be able to reach both worlds and effect any meaningful change before they were outgunned in the void.

Elvrit:

 

The Angel spoke sense. Half - at least half - of the Astartes Legions had turned traitor. Three of those still loyal had been mauled… even destroyed? The Emperor must be warned. If this vessel's Astropath was out of action, they must find another and get word to Terra. Any of the targets suggested by Nuzry should have an Astropathic Choir.

 

Elvrit said as much aloud. However, he was less sure of making Ghellion their first target.

 

“... and Ghellion must be protected, or at least denied to the enemy, true again…”

 

He grunted irritably.

 

“...but we have only a single squad of Astartes, half of them in Sus-An. Even so, that might be enough for a strike, if we act as the speartip for the ship's armsmen… but we have no ammunition or equipment to speak of.”

 

“Mezoa is loyal to the Emperor, I would willingly stake all our lives on it. Their Forgeworld specialises in producing war materiel. Perhaps their outpost at Phelorak could supply us with what we need to successfully prosecute an attack on Ghellion?”

 

He shrugged with a hiss of servos.

 

“It might also take less time to conquer an outpost, getting us to our Astropath faster?”

 


 

Ravyx Koloios:

 

'What are we picking up on augur intercept?' Ravyx asked, completely matter-of-fact. 'What do we know of artificial or natural satellites in the target zones?'

 

Without an Astropath they had no mouth with which to scream, yet they could listen.

 

Edited by Mazer Rackham

Ekene Sul

 

When the assembly started Sul was quiet, listening as the others presented their thoughts, mulling over his own and considering the data. It was lamentably out of date. The entire order of the galaxy had been upended in less than a year, intelligence from half a century ago might have no bearing on reality at all.

 

The Tenth, he knew, had strong ties to the Mechanicum, and he trusted Elvrit's assesment of Mezoa's disposition. Assuming no catastrophe had befallen their vassal forge, a chance to re-arm and perhaps improve the condition of the ship would be welcome before they moved against the enemy. It would cost them time, though. The Warmaster's forces could be en route to Ghellion right now, even if the world itself was still loyal. Suppose the planet was wracked by civil war, and their intervention now might make a crucial difference? A few more guns from Phelorak wouldn't matter if a battlegroup of the Sons of Horus descended on the system before they could reach it.

 

They had a significant asset aboard which he hadn't heard mentioned yet.

 

"What is the status of the Thunderhawk? Is it fully combat-capable?"

 

He was certain it had been refueled, but less sure if there had been sufficient munitions aboard to re-arm it. If Phastus still had only a single squad of Iron Warriors as a garrison, the gunship could balance the odds or swing them in the loyalist's favour should they decide to launch a raid there. Perhaps they could quickly overwhelm the garrison and find an Astropath planetside?

 

"Hadad, do you know anything of the Phastus garrison?"

 

Unlikely, he thought, but the warrior had been with the Fourth until recently, so there was an outside chance he might have some information newer than fifty years old.

"The auger intercepts are nothing but chaos at the moment." One of the tactical officers answered.

 

"The Thunderhawk is fully fueled, and there is currently a dozen rounds of ammo for the main cannon, lascannons draw power from the craft so are effectively infinite, the heavy bolters however are nearly dry only 400 rounds across all turrets." The Magos stated.

Hadad

 

 

Utu had listened to the briefing while scanning through the prepared reports, 50 years was unfortunate, but not that long on the scale of the Unification and Great Crusade.

 

When Sul asked his question he had already been considering speaking up as to the implication of the IVth reported presence and what it might mean for them here and now.

 

“Thank you Sul. I do not expect my voice to count for much here, but I’ll freely give what advice I can, make of it what you will.”

 

“While I was never stationed on Phastus II, if it is a garrison akin to those that the Legion left in its wake then it will be a considerable position, even if manned by just a few.”

 

“As I see it there are two out of three points in our favour, but the third, if true makes it entirely untenable as a prospect for now, I suspect, while if it is not then, it should be our first port of call.”

 

“All the garrison of the IVth that I have seen raised, been station in or otherwise dealt with had an armoury worthy of a force some orders of magnitudes greater than the force left to garrison. At base principle they were not just a garrison, but a resupply and logistic centre for the legion. It should easily hold enough for a company or more, for a year or more of hard warfare.”

 

“If the garrison was called back to the Legion as hastily as I was. In preparation for Istvann, then over 80% of the supplies should still be there. Perhaps a bit less if Legion ships stopped there enrooted, but even then some would remain.”

 

“The second point is the garrison itself, if it was mustered then the garrison is likely just servitors, legion serves and some auxiliary Imperial army units.”

 

Looking round the room at the other marines Hadad continued.

 

“A force we should be able to overcome if the need arises.”

 

“If the Garrison is still there, and if they have served there as long or longer then I had at a few postings, then they may have been separated from the Legion for such time as to be taint free, to still be oath keepers.   Ever since the Master of the Legion was found, us Terran sons have been sidelined, given to hold far-flung worlds for decades at a time, and if there are Oath holders still amongst my former legion their number will most likely be old Terrans.”

 

Hadad stood up, to emphasis this last point.

 

“If however the garrison is present, and oathbreakers, then this is a world we cannot take, not unless you intend to use this frigate as an opening salvo, and then we would be stranded, and taking the garrison would not even be certain then.”

 

“Phastus II could be vital to our survival and any chance to remain as Duty is, but it could be our death just as easily as the black sand.”

Elvrit:

 

Elvrit nodded bleakly.

 

“...and no way to know which until we're looking down the barrel of a damn Basilisk.”

 

He paused, thinking, then looked back at Hadad.

 

“Does it matter how strong the outer defences are? Your Legion must have passwords, codes, that will let a Legionnaire in need get inside? Do you know those codes? If you can get us in, then we'll see if there are any Astartes left there, and what side they stand on… and we'll deal with them accordingly.”


 

Arazakiel

 

Arazakiel listened, the others clearly focused on vengeance and the most likely place to find more of their traitorous brothers. But the planet itself...

 

"Even if we were to take Phastus what then, What do we deny the warmaster if the defenses of the world could not even deny us?"

Ravyx

 

Beaked helm canting in a half-nod of thanks to the tactical officer, Ravyx took a long, considered breath. Unsatisfied, he doubted he'd get anything more that he would be unable to gain with his own eyes. The absence of information was merely another challenge to be overcome. He quietly listened to the others, finding his tongue again after the First Legionary.

 

'We deny him nothing, Dark Angel. Indeed, that should be our objective.'

 

Ravyx studied each of the Astartes in turn, the keen senses of the new helmet model, with it's advanced medi-diagnostor modifications already spooling reels of information on each warrior. The genetic differences were fascinating, yet treating such a broad variation of biological deviations would prove a challenge. The genius of the Emperor, that by design they all fell within any generic scope of remedy, was astounding.

 

A shrug dismissing the thought, he continued. 'A leech may be ignored until it grows fat, then something must be done. It squanders resources in preference of use elsewhere.'

 

The example of Lord Corax was an inevitable comparison, an example of asymmetric warfare where weaknesses must become strengths.

 

If they are many, but you are few, they are slow and you are agile.

If they are large, but you are small, they are exposed, and you are hidden.

If they have abundance, but you starve, let them feed you to grow your strength.

 

It was just about picking the battles they could win.

 

Elvrit's suggestion was a good one, Hadad's information and analysis, solid. The Dark Angel's (OOC: I Can't remember if he's been introduced yet?) instincts were keen, and Ekene Sul had a practical bent. He could harbour a guess a Kraith's humours merely by dint of his stance and shared bloodline. As it should be. Corspake fluttered.

 

Dagger/Dark/Swords/Dawn/?

 

The notes about the population of Phastus II bothered him. There was potential there for discord. It remained to be seen if it was motived by oppression of the populace by the IVth Legion, or merely the stink of self-obsessed rabble. However, if the former, the goodwill - or the hearts and minds approach - may secure vital intelligence, or even grow thorns to prick the Iron Warriors into action. Perhaps a two-pronged assault.

 

Attaching a thought to Elvrit's suggestion, could make the operation more viable. Kraith would know where he was going with it, perhaps even ease the need for vengeance in all of them. get them doing something proactive.

 

'Perhaps a reconnaissance of Phastus Two would prove beneficial.' He folded his arms, a gentle swivel of his angled snout rolling back to the Dark Angel. It described an arc as he jerked his chin. 'Or is that bike saddle in the hold just for polishing?'

Arazakiel

 

"It is swift enough, but our margin of advantage is slim. We can choose but one world to reach before ships of the warmasters fleet also seek out safe harbour to repair and replace their losses. Whichever goal we set is done in the knowledge that the other might well fall within the oathbreakers grasp before warning reaches them of the treachery."

 

He motions towards the dataslates, "Ghellion might at least put up a fight if forewarned, but Phastus is a backwater of limited production. Even if the warmaster has spent the last half century stockpiling supplies there what would it serve him save for a staging world from which to launch attacks on more valuable targets?"

 

Then again, what better than an isolated, secure system to effect repairs. They chose blindly, and perhaps the rest had more faith than he in the world governed by a veteran of the Wolfs' conquests.

Ravyx:

 

The Raven Guard made a small gesture, accepting the point with a quickly raised and dropped right hand.

 

Edited by Mazer Rackham

Hadad

 

Utu considered the breachers question for a long moment.

 

“I am, despite the years, a line marine, not consciously privy to Officer and other command procedures. For now I cannot say if whatever I might dredge up from long term memory would be either sufficient or still current, but I will try when I have a chance to meditate.”

 

“I suppose guile is an option not easily dismissed, I can try and be the Key to the garrison if that is our intent.”

 

 

A little later in the discussion Utu felt he needed to speak up again, the thoughts had been ruminating for a little while already.

 

“Cousin, you ask what reason there is to take Phastus II, for if we can take it it cannot stand against the Warmaster for a second. Consider, we gathered here cannot stand in the Warmasters way, we cannot hold worlds against him, that time is past, and we too few.”

 

“Istvann was the opening bombardment of a siege, the largest siege any of us have ever seen. Its scope the entire width and breadth of known space. Consider, if he had had the strength for a decapitation strike, to take the thrown on Terra, then none of this would have been needed. Instead he besieges Humanity, the Imperium we all helped build during the Crusades.”

 

“We here cannot stand against the preparation and forces of the besiegers. We are not even part of the garrison against who’s walls the Warmaster levels his guns.”

 

“What we can do is be sappers, outriders, deal in small insignificant disturbances that together, perhaps, is enough to  buy the garrison, the Imperium the time to prepare the defences and one day sally forth and strike at the besiegers.”

 

“We can harry their flanks, disrupt their supply lines, sabotage their siege engines, foul the waters, taint their food. Warn others and sow the seeds of rebellions on world the Warmaster considers his. Decimate their moral, drive wedges into the alliances of the oathbreakers. There are many thinks we can do to lay the groundwork for others to break the siege and win, but we cannot stand against them in a direct fight.”

Edited by Trokair

Elvrit:

 

Elvrit nodded as the Iron Warrior spoke. He lifted his left hand and began raising bionic fingers one after another.

 

“I agree. Our first priority is finding an Astropath. Second must be resupply. Then, thirdly, we can begin to strike back at the traitors however we can, and perhaps fourthly, we might attempt to link up with the other survivors from our Legions. We must examine our options with those objectives in mind. None of the three options presented seem ideal, and our intelligence is woefully outdated, but it is all we have. We will have to… guess.”

 

The distaste for such a tactic was plain in Elvrit's tone, but he continued.

 

“Ghellion V is apparently populous, well-equipped, and trained by a man of substantial military experience. If its people have already declared for the Warmaster, it is an obstacle far beyond our present strength to overcome, denying us any hope of using their Astropaths. If they are still loyal to the Emperor, they will be able to hold out for at least some time against almost any attack. Either way, I see little logic in making it our first destination. We are too few to make a difference there.”

 

“Phelorak will have an Astropath. They may also have some few supplies we can make use of. But it is only an outpost. The greatest benefit in that choice of destination is the speed with which we could overcome it - if that is necessary, assuming it has turned traitor at all - and get a message out.”

 

“Phastus II should also provide access to an Astropath, and might bring greater material rewards. Assuming it has not already been stripped, even a partial stockpile from the garrison would vastly improve our ability to take the fight to the enemy, and it would deny the Warmaster's forces access to all of those same supplies. However, just as Hadad says, the risks are far greater there too.”

 

He paused, weighing, considering.

 

“If we do choose Phastus, I would suggest we alter or disable this vessel's idents, proclaim it as belonging to the IVth Legion, and go seeking sanctuary from our ‘brothers’ at the garrison, using Hadad's knowledge to gain ingress. Even in orbit, we can easily avoid coming close enough for anyone to see with the naked eye that the Tribute’s hull is green rather than bare iron. Though in that case, with the Angel's forbearance, we might also need to scour away whatever is left of the black paint from his Thunderhawk…”

 


 

Edited by Lysimachus

Kraith

 

Kraith listened to the debate, watching and weighing the options. He was not an officer, nor even a sergeant, and such was not often asked for input in strategic matters. He noticed Ravxy's and responded with a curt- Watching/Unknown/Wary to indicate his feelings towards the Dark Angel and the Iron Warrior. Neither were fully trustworthy right now, but there was little trust in general to give and these two had at least helped Corax's sons. 

 

"I have little recommendation for any of the worlds. The Agri-world is worthless to us right now, we have few mortal troops to feed as is, but would be worthwhile to the Traitors as a supply base. Ghellion is a poisoned chalice- we do not have the forces to assault it if they serve the Warmaster, but it is an important world that needs to be secured due to their production of war materials. The Mechanicum outpost could have supplies we need to further the fight, but we have no information on its garrison or defenses. Each choice has perils for our small force, as well as potential windfalls."

 

He shook his head, frustrated at the options. "My choice would be to head for Phastus. An outpost can only support so many warriors, and we need the sort of supplies that the Mechanicum can provide. My preference would be to go to Ghellion to rally their forces and strike a larger blow, but without knowing their allegiance and with our forces too few to effectively assault if they are traitors,  we are wagering much on the garrison remaining loyal."

The Captain spoke again, "It would seem then that we have an objective, an Agri-world with dubious food quality but perhaps astartes grade weapons.  Liaison, how long will the journey to the Phastus System?"

 

"Captain, we can jump in 14 hours, the journey should take around 53 hours."

 

"Very well, I am sure you all have much to do in those 14 hours, so I will not keep any of you any longer."

Ravyx

 

He nodded at Kraith's reply, and took his own leave without further word.

 

Returning to the apothecarion, Ravyx noticed the menial lingering at threshold. He stopped at the end of the passageway, lurking as was his want, trying to ascertain the nature of this mortal interloper. He slid into the shadows between the humming lights, improvised compressor baffles in his armour's servomechanics flexing to take the weight, distribute the sound.

 

Silent Move Test:

Spoiler

AG: 71

D100: 42. PASS, Plus 2 DoS

 

The acid-dulled white of his profession was a mottled near-grey against the steel deck and bulkheads, the black rendered a slightly muddier charcoal. He stepped close to the man, drawing himself to full height.

 

'What are you doing here?' he asked, calm and level, shadow suddenly eclipsing the man.

 

OOC: I don't know if anyone wants me to make up anything, like Resuscitex or something? GM, Do we have enough stuff for a dose or two?

Elvrit:

 

Days of travel, again. Elvrit frowned. He had best make wise use of the time. Continue to assist the repair crews? No, he had done all that was within his abilities there. Now that there might be a fight brewing, he needed to make sure he was ready for combat.

 

There seemed a good chance that they would have to face off against the traitors of the Iron Warriors, perhaps even breach a fortified position defended by the renegade siege-masters. Elvrit rubbed his adamantium fingers over the pitted surface of his boarding shield and smiled. He had little doubt he would be in the van of such an attack.

 

Looking up, he saw the Legionnaire without a Legion about to leave the briefing room.

 

“Hadad!”

 

Elvrit thudded over. He had never fought against the IVth, or beside them for that matter. What he knew about them was based on hearsay.

 

“There are some who would say your presence here is some sort of miraculous providence. Idiots. I need you to tell me about your former Legion. Tell me about their favoured tactics, their preferred weapons, how they think, how they would act or react in a given situation.”

 

He shrugged unapologetically.

 

“I need you to tell me how to kill your brothers.”


 

Suddenly the shadows spoke and Old Bert was confronted!

 

 

'What are you doing here?'

 

 

The speaker was all in black a huge Space Marine with a white bird on his shoulder plate.

 

Old Bert visibly jumped, startled by the apparition.

 

 

"Waiting for your, your Lordship. I was directed here with my friend who has gone back to watch over our charge. We were sent here by another of your kind who we talked to, he had a Hand on 'is shoulder same as our charge," Old Bert blathered, gradually getting his composure.

 

"Sorry, your Lordship. I is Old Bert deck hand, Thirty yars afore the Mast, man and boy. Part of the Crew!"

 

"I is waiting for you and I din't go inside. Not invited, its not proper like!"

 

The space marine waited to hear more.

 

"We rescued the sleeping knight, a space marine that fell out of the wing of your Thunder'awk. We rescued him from a servitor team and kept him safe, we thought it best."

 

"He's asleep and sending us dreams. Got a Hand one shoulder and a Volcano the other. Gorra small blue plate on 'is armour too. He's clutching a sword in both hands. Come I'll show yer where he is. The techies want the room where he is and we don't want them to just turn 'im into starch like."

 

"Willum my friend, who is watching him thinks that the sleeper is a King. Well so do I, we've been 'aving simlar dreams. He's Old Alba going back to Av'lon and the Nine Sisters. The sleeper has a red beard and Willum thinks he's gonna be a king under a mountain. Willum keeps asking the same question, over and over."

 

"Do the Ravens still fly?"

 

OLd Bert waited.

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by Machine God
Typo

Ravyx

 

He studied the weathered seadog before him, wringing an old cap between his hands, burying his sudden fright in old comforts. Ravyx's head canted sideways as the man recounted his tale, beak angling as he assessed, his other thoughts in the background.

 

Calloused hands, upper biceps proportional, lean. Older, lung capacity reduced by 31.33% compared to ideal specimen, but observant. Straight limbs reveal good physical condition post 30 summers.

 

The talk of Bert's experience with the 'sleeping knight' put all into his understanding.

 

Ravyx let the silence draw out a few moments, reflecting on Bert's manners and action. They would be returned, as his Legion valued such men. Humanity was not a thing to be denied to the Sons of Corax, for stripping out one's humanity, the sympathy for that existence, was a road to ruin and failure of purpose. Unthinkable.

 

'You do well, Bert. Bring your charge to this place.'

 

He stepped past the old sailor and indicated an examination table. 'Lay him upon this plinth.'

 

His helm swivelled back to the deck hand, taking heart from Kraith's witness of Lord Corax's escape, fist gently closing across the Caduceus Calvarium upon his plastron.

 

'I am assured, Bert, the Ravens do indeed, still fly.'

 

Edited by Mazer Rackham

Hadad

 

Their choice had been made; 67 hours give or take as the Immaterium’s currents flows. If they were to succeed he better see what he could recall from deep memory. He was about to set out to look for somewhere  quite, out of the way, a suitable place to meditate, when the Breacher called out to him.

 

“There are some who would say your presence here is some sort of miraculous providence.”

 

That was a curious thing to say, he would have expected ‘people’ to have been saying the opposite, that he as not to be trusted and all that. No matter, Elvrit question was valid.

 

“I need you to tell me how to kill your brothers.”

 

“I am sure you know plenty already, and I’d advice against it, there are few enough of us aboard as it is.”

 

“Now if it is oath breakers you seek to kill, there I can help you.”

Arazakiel

 

The backwater it was then. Arazakiel wondered if the vote was motivated by the desire of vengeance against the sure presence of oathbreakers or by avoidance of risk... that Ghellion might prove to be an impossible task would have not deterred any past astartes assault but now that defeat had been tasted, the warmaster himself turned, it seemed that fear had taken grip where none should exist.

 

Another day he might have pressed the matter but news of what they had witnessed must be sent and Phastus should at least pose minimal threat to the ship if it had turned.

 

Three days to ready the thunderhawk for battle once more, a minimal crew that he might watch each of them for any attempt at sabotage. Its pilot, Zaphkiel, had survived a strike on the way down only through the life support mechanisms built into the control throne. Another casualty of a failed cause, loyal sons of the Lion who charged into battle now replaced by this disparate band who fled it.

 

Let the barracks on Phastus be full, let the battle prove the worth of these survivors one way or another.

Ravyx:

 

Leaving the Apothecarion, Ravyx toured the decks, finding his way to the training areas.

 

Quiet, deserted, the ranges and practice cages were eerily silent, missing the clash and batter of Marines training for the next combat. Proceeding to the shooting lanes, he unlimbered his weapons, placing them on a bench for field stripping. Pulling all the rounds free, he emptied the guns, methodically pulling them apart before reassembly. Unable to expend precious ammunition which would soon be put to use in operations, Ravyx set his armour and bolter relays to synchronise.

 

Activating the holographic targeting suite, the hololithic Figure 11's showing charging human targets, Figure 13 - Orkoid, Figure 15 - Eldar, and Figure 17 - Non-determined  began to flicker, rotating in random sequence behind barricades and buttresses designed for the purpose.

 

He switched the control panel to display friendlies only, the Figure 21 - Ally.

 

The amber holograms vanished, replaced with Astartes figures in non-hostile blue. Thirty-three Space Marines in Mk III and MK IV armour sprang up. Designed to enhance trigger discipline and environmental awareness, here it became a target rich environment. He sighted the empty boltgun, technos circuits closing the targeting reticles on the first Astartes. He'd done it before, on Isstvan, but there it was chaos, survival against choice or belief, the anger to hurt the....enemy very raw. Here, for the first time, he was determined to do it. He had to make the vengeance real, had to manifest the anger into cold hatred.

 

The Tyrants of Lycaeus had merely changed their clothes. He'd never fought in the depths of the prison colony, but here was a chance.

 

Click, click, click.

 

Each target collapsed from simulated impacts. The Umbra pattern bolter poached from a dead XIXth Legionary, had a keen trigger replacing the normal firing stud. The mechanism was the same, but the feel was as old as time, distinctly Terran. He added more Figure 11's.

 

Click, click, click.

 

Six dead.

 

He continued killing with only his reflexes and will, felling six more, then ten, then twelve.

 

Never enough.

 

Edited by Mazer Rackham
Typo - BLAM!

The frigate tore a hole through the barrier that separates realspace and the warp; as things went it was a very accurate jump, depositing them approximately one day out from Phastus II.  There was only one other warp capable ship in the system, a huge bulk transport in high orbit.  A few orbital stations that were mostly just orbital warehouses dotted the low orbit of the planet.

 

The planet had only a few cities, the largest of which was also the capital and approximately 8 million souls.  Much of the population was spread out in small farming and fishing villages of a few thousand.

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