A Time of Reaving IC

[Lysimachus]

Elvrit:

 

In the belly of the ‘hawk, there was no way to know what was happening on the surface or in the void around them. As the other Legionnaires continued their introductions, Elvrit moved up through the troop compartment.

 

The Iron Hand in the hold couldn't give him any answer, body and mind having retreated into Sus-An sleep in an attempt to recover from his grievous wounds. The sleeper’s equipment and numerous augmetics suggested that he might be an officer or specialist... but had he come down later - as the Breacher had - or had he been part of the support cadre for the Morlocks of Clan Avernii? Elvrit wanted to shake the other Medusan awake, and demand answers. Probably unwise.

 

Instead, he climbed towards the cockpit, trying to see beyond the pilots to catch a glimpse of the countless vessels in orbit.

 

Where were his brethren? Where were the Iron Tenth?

 

And where was Manus?

 

 

 

Edited December 1, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Ravyx Koloios:

 

Ravyx cast his eyes over the harnessed bodies, suddenly feeling a great weight settle across his shoulders. No other Apothecaries seemed to have escaped - at least not in this shuttle. He had several armacrystal capsules vacant. Enough to store the geneseed of those present. It should be done now, whilst the bodies were still in good condition, before any further doom befell the fleeing survivors.

 

Even if the Thunderhawk were destroyed, the chances of the geneseed being safe were higher in his gauntlet than being degraded by radiation, fused beyond recovery in the hot caress of a melta blast. He nodded comradely to Kraith, then stepped to the Dark Angel, maglocked boots carrying him down the companionway to help secure the fallen from the different lineages.

 

OOC: I've excised - no pun intended - the offer to recover the geneseed. It can form a scene later on in the Apothecarion.

 

Edited December 3, 2023 by Mazer Rackham
Narrative cleanup.

[Black Cohort]

The Salamander's frigate Darnok's Tribute quickly matched courses with the Thunderhawk, it's auxiliary craft bay doors opening to receive the assault ship.  Like the Thunderhawk and it's occupants, it had clearly seen better days.  The void shields shimmered, rippled and cracked as overstressed generators attempted to once again restore them to full strength.  It's hull was marked with the scars of battle both recent and ancient, some glancing blows that carved along the hull, others deep wounds that punctured the shell, some that still leaked atmosphere.

 

It's nameless sister continued to close with the Alpha legion cruiser, both sides clearly suffering from the close in blows they dealt each other.  Half the guns of the frigate had fallen silent, other because they had finally fused from the heat of repeated shots or the return fire of the cruiser.  A trail of debris marked the path it had taken.  It was clearly dying, but intended to take one last foe with it in it's death throws for its trajectory was clearly on a collision course with the Alpha Legion ship.  Despite it's larger size the cruiser had clearly suffered as well; many of it's batteries had fallen silent, the void shields had clearly completely failed and great rents could be found across it's hull.  It might die even without being rammed.

 

The space battle faded from the sensors as your craft entered auxiliary bay, which was empty of other craft.  A junior naval officer waited at the edge of the space with a pair of ratings for your craft to settle.

[Machine God]

Temperature, force alignments had fluctuated. Now they were still 

[Trokair]

Hadad

 

The main engine had fallen silent, the burst and hiss of manoeuvring thrusters followed by the change in pitch of the whine as the Hawk entered into an enclosed space. They had entered the hold of a larger ship. A friendly one he hoped, but nonetheless he reinspected Rain and his other equipment, just in case.

                                                                  

“Anybody know if we are expecting a friendly welcome?”

[Lysimachus]

Elvrit:

 

The pandemonium of the battle for Istvaan's upper atmosphere disappeared from view in the Thunderhawk's narrow, heavily armoured canopy, replaced by the familiar, dull sight of the hangar bay of a Sword-class Frigate.

 

The memory of the second escort taking the fight to the larger cruiser stayed in Elvrit's mind. Just like the Thunderhead battling against the Scion of Chemos. If this war was judged by simple courage and sheer grit, the loyalists would have already claimed the victory. Unfortunately for the loyalists, a war was actually won by intellect, cunning, and the precisely timed application of overwhelming force.

 

Bloody Horus. Bloody Warmaster.

 

As he moved back down into the troop bay, Elvrit pulled off his slab-faced MkIII helm and maglocked it to his belt*. He spat contemptuously to one side. They'd find a way to get even with ‘Lupercal’ and all his damn flunkeys.

 

The Iron Warrior still stood by the boarding ramp.

 

“Anybody know if we are expecting a friendly welcome?”

 

“I wouldn't bet on it, Hadad,” he grunted. “Not if they see you first, anyway.”

 

He jerked his head at Sul.

 

“From the little I could see, this ship belongs to the Salamanders. Maybe you want to lead the way?”

 

 

 

*

Spoiler

OOC: For the information of other PCs, Elvrit has the typical broad features of the Astartes, short grey hair and cold blue-green eyes. His head and facial features are remarkably human for an Iron Hand, lacking in any visible bionic augmentation, though his skin has the slightly pallid tone of one who is rarely exposed to the light of any sun.

 

 

Edited December 2, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Trokair]

Hadad

 

The Breacher was right of course.Taking a few steps back into the hold, so that if this was indeed, as hoped, a ship crewed by other Oathkeepers, then he would not be the first thing they saw. However he was still ready in case this had been a snare, designed to entrapment those that made it of the surface.

 

He glanced over to see what Ekene Sul would do; they were in his hands if this was indeed a ship of his kin.  

Edited December 3, 2023 by Trokair

[A.T.]

Arazakiel

 

Arazakiel watched closely the work of the apothecary, lest he grant rest too soon for those taken as prisoners.

 

In answer to the question, "the sons of Vulkan stood against the warmaster when his treachery was revealed, but countless thousands of their serfs man this vessel the the rot of this betrayal yet runs deep."

 

He stepped up to the rank ignoring further debate over who should stand at the vanguard, "they will expect one of the first".

[Urauloth]

Ekene Sul

 

Sul listened to Elvrit and Azarakiel, and nodded to both of them.

 

"You are both right. As this gunship bears the colours of the First, they will expect one of you. It will lessen their concerns greatly, though, if they see the green of my legion when the ramp opens."

 

He stepped up next to the Dark Angel, slightly behind, not wishing to usurp vanguard position on his host's vessel. More quietly, he said:

 

"You need fear no rot aboard, son of the Lion.  The men and women of Nocturne are all as loyal as its legionaries."

 

Like the Iron Hand, he removed his helm and mag-locked it to his armour. He would be sure to greet the crew as an unmistakable son of Vulkan's world: Where the icons on his armour were burned and scarred, the bioluminescent red of his eyes remained undiminished.

[Black Cohort]

the hatch of the thunderhawk dropped open as the junior officer rushed over.  His minimal rank markings indicating to Ekene that he is ensign, the most junior of naval officers.  If had had reached a quarter century it would be shocking.

 

He saluted when he saw a Salamander on the thunderhawk, "Sir, thank the Primarch some of you live.   The XO, err, Acting Captain, told me to take the marines to see her in the secondary bridge.  Please hurry, we will be breaching the warp barrier in moments."

[Lysimachus]

Elvrit:

 

Elvrit scowled. Warp translation? While still this close to a planetary body? He had already suspected that the battle was going just as badly for the loyalists in orbit as for the ones left on the surface... but such a dangerous escape manoeuvre spoke of utter desperation.

 

He wanted to immediately demand of the youthful officer whether any other ships of the Iron Hands fleet had arrived, had made it into range of Istvaan V, or if any had been able to escape the death trap it had become.

 

However, he would have to wait. This vessel was not his to ask questions of, or give orders to.

 

It was a Salamanders Legion ship. The ‘Acting Captain’ had been identified as female, and therefore - more relevantly - was not Astartes. Amongst the Crusade Fleets, Astartes always outranked mortals. Therefore, Ekene Sul now technically had command, whether the line Legionnaire had realised it yet or not.

 

 

 

[A.T.]

Arazakiel

 

Looking back to the apothecary, "what of the prisoners, do any live to answer?" Priorities first, if all they have escaped with are their own lives then the dangers of the warp were small compared to the magnitude of what lay ahead.

[Mazer Rackham]

Ravyx Koloios:

 

For a second, he'd assumed the Iron Warrior and Iron Hand were engaged in gallows jest, but then reality reasserted itself. The Legions were at war with each other. Even so, the manoeuvres of the warships belied they were expected, if not the cargo. Security codes would have been traded to make sure, and if there was any suspicion of treachery, Darnok's Tribute would have opened fire without hesitation.

 

Guilt at not recognising the threat, that he may have stayed his hand when the second wave didn't respond as they should - calls into the noospheric relay going unanswered - tugged at him. They were betrayed twice. A third mistake like that could not be allowed,

 

When he stood for the gunship's landing, the sand of Isstvan V fell from the gaps in his armour. Coarse and dark, it got everywhere. The teachings of Corax came to him in the Raven Lord's absence as surely as they tripped down the command circuit, no matter the metaphor. He looked down at the deck once more, studying each grain with his superhuman senses. Singly, they were nothing, but together, they got through every rent and crack. Irritating flesh, abrading vital small parts, clogging lubricating oils into gunk.

 

Ravyx closed his fists until the ceramite creaked.

 

If each problem were a grain of sand, each night, Horus would inherit the desert. If of course, this wasn’t all a clever ruse to kill the last of them.

 

The First Legionary spoke, fortunately, Ravyx’s ministrations held the answer. He exchanged a quick glance with Kraith at the inflection of 'prisoner', his conical helm pointing at his fellow Raven Guard before swivelling back the the First Son.

 

‘The survivors dwell in Sus An, Dark Angel. We need access to an apothecarion.’

 

Edited December 4, 2023 by Mazer Rackham
Cleanup

[Machine God]

Parameters set had occurred, protocols were enacted.

 

Speed of the essence in the physical medium, much slower of course than the binaric noosphere.

 

 

There was a loud crash from aft, as something heavy detached and ejected itself from the rear port landing strut cavity...

 

 

 

 

[Urauloth]

Ekene Sul

 

He gave a curt nod to the young officer.

"Thank you, Ensign. Take us there at once."

 

...that some of you live.
So, was he the only Salamander aboard this ship? That their audience was to be with an acting captain aboard a secondary bridge suggested the principle command centre was inoperable; likely the vessel was damaged, which stood to reason, as he expected the fighting in the void was faring as poorly as it had on the surface. If the ship was preparing to jump to warp, it would be to escape pursuit. He did not like the idea, but a frigate could do as little against the Warmaster's armada as his single boltgun could on the sands below. Perhaps, as he had been, this ship was cut off and out of better options.

 

He had questions, and he hoped the acting shipmistress would be able to answer them.

[Black Cohort]

The secondary bridge was buried deep within the ship, nearly at the very centre of it.  A lift took them down to the appropriate level then it was only a few hundred meters of walking. 

 

... Nobilite liaison reports Lord Ampis has completed his preparations.  We can enter the warp on your command."

 

"Activate Geller Fields."

 

"Captain, transmission from the Wyrmchaser.  'We enter the final fire, the serpent shall not escape our grasp and shall burn in the cleansing flame.  For the Legion, Vulkan Lives.'"

 

A ripple passed through the air, as if a static charge had dissipated across the ship.  The air felt like it had changed slightly, as if some part of it was lost.  The Geller Fields were active.

 

"Geller Fields ready Captain."

 

"Then take us into the warp."

 

The secondary bridge was a tight space, a half dozen astartes in power armour filled nearly all of the empty space.  The acting captain sat on a slightly raised chair that could see over the shoulders of the 10 staff in front of her.  She was clearly from Nocturne, and from the hints of grey in her hair and wrinkles on her skin it was obvious that she was not new to this business.

 

"Apologies Lords, some matters can wait for no one in this trying time."

[Mazer Rackham]

Ravyx Koloios:

 

The lift ride was...awkward. The only kinship he felt was with Kraith, but that was merely because he was the only other XIXth Legionary present. Self-reliance and being reserved were trademarks of the Raven Guard, and rightly prized, but as the combat medic he would have to trust these men, and they him. The one calling himself Utu Mot Hadad had even tried an old Terran custom, and despite the fact he couldn't bring himself to offer his hand in kind, he could trade simple tokens.

 

'They call me Jackdaw,' he simply said to the pained silence of the lift car as it arrived at their destination. He shrugged, letting them take it or leave it.

 

No names yet, though. Those were for trusted conversation.

[Lysimachus]

Elvrit:

 

Elvrit nodded his acceptance of the Apothecary's moniker. He didn't speak, as all of these Astartes had been within earshot when he gave his name to Hadad.

 

***

 

The crew obeyed their Captain without waiting for confirmation from any of the Astartes. As the frigate shuddered through the sudden tumult of warp translation, the Breacher stepped forwards, impatience finally overcoming iron control now that they were safely away.

 

“Has there been any contact or co-ordination between the Legions who still fight for the Emperor?” he growled. “I assume our strategy is to retreat and regroup? How many of our ground forces were successfully evacuated from the surface? What is our current heading?”

 

His questions were becoming an interrogation. Elvrit reflexively clenched his fists - one flesh and one iron, both brutal weapons of war - as he forced himself to pause and alter his tone to something marginally less aggressive.

 

“My apologies for breaking protocol, Brother Sul, Shipmistress, but I must determine what has happened to the Tenth. I request access to your vessel's augur and vox logs. Perhaps they can give me some damned idea of how my brethren and my Primarch fare.”

 

 

 

[A.T.]

Arazakiel

 

Questions burned in Arazakiels mind, but a hastened warp transition brought more immediate threat as his eyes turned towards the displays of system stability and environmental controls. The ship had been holed in combat and any sealed in those compartments now faced exposure to warp, the gellar field would keep out its creatures but not its madness.

 

The disposition of the rest of the crew was no sure thing no matter the words of the Salamander, not only serfs would man the decks but ratings taken from other worlds to replace losses accumulated since the vessel left port, the many scions of the mechanicus and their secretive conclaves, and civilians such as the remembrancers and bringers of imperial truth tasked with documenting the vessels conquests.

 

If there had been any other astartes on board they would have met them at the landing bay. "The fate of those left behind will wait, it is our duty to secure this vessel. The warmasters rot will spread no further."

[Urauloth]

Ekene Sul

 

The secondary bridge was, as he expected, a riot of activity. There would be no question of arresting the ship's warp shift now, even if there was any viable alternative, and he made no move to interrupt the crew as they completed the maneuver.

 

He understood the Iron Hand's agitation. He shared the breacher's questions. What did the crew know of the wider strategic situation? What remained of the fleet?

He gave the son of Ferrus a solemn nod, aknowledging both his breach of decorum and the apology for it. It was nothing, under the circumstances.

 

Nonetheless, he was the ranking Salamander aboard - the only one aboard - and he had to establish his position with the crew. His presence as a symbol of the legion might prove to be crucial for morale, although from what he could see the acting shipmistress had everything in hand.

 

He laid a hand on Elvrit's shoulder guard and spoke to him in a comeradely tone.

"Steady, brother. We all need answers, and they will come."

 

Without waiting for a reply, he addressed the Frigate's commander.

"An efficient operation," he said, speaking louder so that the rest of the command staff could hear the compliment. "Please, assist our brother of the Tenth as he asks," he added, gesturing to Elvrit.

 

"I am Legionary Sul." He said finally. He kept his introduction short, knowing others were burning with questions. A simple exchange of name and rank with the acting captain was all protocol demanded for now.

[Trokair]

Hadad

 

He had followed the others as they where lead to the secondary bridge. Nobody had moved to stop him, so for now he was tolerated. Most likely it was just practicalities, he could appreciate that, after all they all had a lot on their minds today.

 

The lack of good and verifiable intelligence was a serious flaw, and the cacophony of questions from the Breacher understandable, and almost touching the salient question, but it seemed to him that the other had missed the point of the mortal captain.

 

He glanced around at the others in turn, from Ekene Sul just coming to terms with his position aboard, to the Legionnaire of the first, focused on the task at hand, to ‘call me Jackdaw’ who seem oddly calm now compared to earlier.

 

When none had asked the question Utu raised his hand, politely waiting to be acknowledged and given leave to speak.    

Edited December 6, 2023 by Trokair

[Black Cohort]

The acting Captain turned to the brother of the Xth.  "Brother Elvrit, it has been madness throughout the system for hours and telling one ship from another on the auspex records would be nearly impossible; and our vox has only been able to receive short range transmissions since the second wave dropped.  Last we saw the core of the Xth's fleet was heavily assailed by oath breakers from several legions, but a block of strike cruisers had been pushing into a low orbit pass, lead by the Sisypheum."

 

She shifted so she was looking more directly at the Salamander before she responded to him.  "Legionary Sul, with the death of Captain Dyrem, you are the only member of the legion aboard the ship.  Technically that makes you the commander, but I have been upon the Void Seas for over a century in service to the Legion and what we do not need right now is an inexperienced hand at the wheel.  So unless you want us all to die, I will retain tactical command of Darnok's Tribute.  I leave it to you and your cousins to determine the strategic problems."

 

She then nodded to the brother from the IVth.

[Trokair]

Hadad

 

A century for a mortal was a more than fair span, if this spoke to the sum of her experience then they should indeed let her remain in charge of this demesne. He hoped Sul would see the logic in her words.

                                                          

 

“Honoured Shipmistress,” here Utu takes a small bow, “are we jumping blind, to flee, or is Lord Ampis steering with intent, a destination under orders?”

 

[Black Cohort]

21 minutes ago, Trokair said:

Hadad

 

A century for a mortal was a more than fair span, if this spoke to the sum of her experience then they should indeed let her remain in charge of this demesne. He hoped Sul would see the logic in her words.

                                                          

 

“Honoured Shipmistress,” here Utu takes a small bow, “are we jumping blind, to flee, or is Lord Ampis steering with intent, a destination under orders?”

 

 

"Our last orders from the Charybdis were, 'We sit upon the anvil of war.  Rescue those you can, withdraw if possible, and if the fires of battle will claim you, take as many oath breakers with you into the final flame.  The Legion must live.'  So technically both.  We are only making a short jump to escape immediate danger; perhaps a few days in the Warp.  We can pick a destination from there."

[Mazer Rackham]

Ravyx Koloios:

 

Hadad's question had answered his own, which saved him having to put his hand up for permission. He was more used to the 'open parliament' style of forum, where a plan would be laid out, left open for discussion or dissection. Participants were encouraged to entertain opposing counsel. This was not needed here.

 

'Captain,' he began, levelly, 'what is the status of the crew? How many compartments report?'

 

He was thinking of two things: The first, the Dark Angel's fervour for cutting out the kanker at the root. He was right of course, and with the pecking order somewhat established, the vague notion of dislocation was gone. They all had work to do. Isolate, Simplify, Complete. Or in Ravyx's case, identify, excise, cauterise.

 

No, knives in the back would clip their wings before they started.

 

Secondly, the mortal crew would need screening and treatment, never mind the Astartes. There was little point in disinfecting the ship of any ne'er-do 'wells in armour which wouldn't keep out a stiff breeze, let alone hard vaccuum. Two days would give them some time to try and repair at least the blood vessels of the vessel. Every crewman lost was a fraction of reaction time wasted. A body must function well to carry out the desires avowed here and now by the Shipmistress.