[DW/SM] Spectre of Ullanor (IC)

[Trokair]

Kur-Dawa

 

He had to rely on the augmented recall of the Astartes to keep up with the conversation, his primary attention focused on the patient. The spasm where worrying, the coma while not unexpected also not a good sign.

 

He whispered the words to himself. “Know, King, Shadow.” Code words or an instruction?

 

Manifold-3-2-Υ while just as meaningless to him seemed to be some designation, perhaps the Deathwatch sworn would know what it refers.

 

---

 

“While Orks may not have much tactical planning, the smaller sub-species, gretchin, have at times been noted in the annals as scouts, saboteurs and other trickery. Perhaps they stumbled upon the operation and alerted their master.”

 

“Another culprit could be connected to Herman Von Strab, the traitor has resources and connection. I don’t know about you all, but as I was riding towards the ERV I picked up part of a propaganda broadcast. With all interference on the planetary coms networks the broadcast was likely more local, perhaps either of the Techmarines could determine more.”

 

“However cousins, the important thing is that we have a been called to a Hunt, and in the name of the Khan I will ride.”   

[Mazer Rackham]

+ SPECTRE OF ULLANOR: PART 1 +

 

+CHAPTER ONE +

 

LOCSIT:  Leaving ERV

TIME INDEX 0000Hrs Zulu

 

The ERV returns to silence as the graveyard for the Deathwatch warriors who fought hard and fell to the foe. Whatever shattered beginning that binds you together, now you ride athwart a steed with the night wind slipping over your hard plates, or in solemn quietude of the hull of the Damocles Class Rhino: Thiel's Arrow. The cabin is illuminted with a dim green glow, the light cast by the cogitation engine control panel which commands the myriad machine spirits lurking within the esoteric technology in the main cargo compartment.

 

The light ekes no further than the armoured glass of the sealed driving pit, and provides neither boon, nor detriment, Hierax imbued with the keen senses of bio-science and the hard tech of Space Marine auto-senses as he churns the metal coffin through the thrashing sands. Stood behind the Techmarine, Uldyssian, is the Tactical marine, Nolites, the cupola hatch opened for his ready hands to seize the mounted storm bolter.

 

Lukan Scarrow slumbers, his stretcher trussed to the top of the augur relay banks and crystal stacks, in a semblance somewhere between luggage and stowage. He is, at least, out of the way. Leyuun sits opposite, in the middle of the cramped compartment, now making a drop-pod look like real-estate largesse. Immediately to his left, and tight against the driver compartment connecting hatch, is braced one of the Devastators, Incario. He rides tall, with heavy bolter thrust pugnaciously out of the maintenance doors. Occupying the space near the rear hatch, is Kurkov, heavy flamer ready across his knees, his other hand free to bang the release rune.

 

Without, the wind throws battering, scattered, grit against the hull, making noises likes waves riding on a beach, grinding the paint of man and machine as it plies the harsh, coarse tides. The sand is your ally for long minutes, pilling and palling in your tracks, erasing the fact you ever existed at the ERV. It also brings challenges to navigation and it reminds you that the desert cares not who or what resides within it.

 

It simply cares not at all.

 

GM: All Drivers please make a Challenging (+0) Navigation Test.

[Trokair]

Kur-Dawa

 

Spoiler

Navigation Test

Int: 41

D100: 21, Pass, 2DoS

 

He and the Storm Lord traded escort and scouting for those in the Rhino, while one ranged ahead the other stayed nearby. He could not speak for him, but strongly suspect that as kinfolk the other was enjoying the rush of the wind and the thrill of the hunt the same as any son of the Khan.

 

He briefly wondered how the training on Mars would affect a brother. Full member of the Adeptus Mechanicus were all too often of a frosty demeanour. Would the Storm Lord feel the wind the way he did, know that even this sandy and ash ridden waste was a kind of step on which to ride and live and be at home?

 

Mostly though he focused on the Hunt, reading the terrain, what little he could see of it at this hour and in passing, vigilant for Orks, whether ambushes or just chance encounters.     

 

[Machine God]

Enkush

 

I was born under a bad sign

Left out in the cold

I'm a lonely man who knows

Just what it means to lose control

 

He and Kur-Dawa scouted and kept a flank guarding the Rhino. It was good to be back in the saddle once more his steed was hungry after giving away a portion of its fuel to support the Damocles.

 

The sands had moved and he had to re-calibrate the cartograph data on the move.

 

 

 

 

INT 44 +0 (Navigation) +10 (Cartograph) +0 (Challenging) = 54. Result: 47 Pass