[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

 

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Convoy:

 

Whilst you navigate to your destination, an augur ping resolves on the Damocles' systems.

 

It's a big return, coming in at a consistent pace, a rate of contact that indicates vehicular origin.

[Necronaut]

Hierax

 

He was stuck behind the controls of a metal box.

 

Hierax glowered at the surrounding desert and his new compatriots, but kept his annoyance at being designated the pilot of the plucky rhino to himself. The sooner this was over, the better.

 

Still, his new traveling companions didn't seem all bad. On balance, he could do far worse on that front.

 

The transport’s machine spirit gurgled noospheric guidance data at him through the uplink connected to his armour, but he had never been so intimately paired with a machine before and had great difficulty parsing out the necessary information from the deluge the thing offered him.

 

He scowled at the featureless wastes around him, squinting through the vehicle's narrow viewport and toggling between the few sensors still available to them as they trundled along through the grit and ash.

 

 

OOC: Sorry I'm late posting this!

 

Navigate (Surface) Test: I40

D100: 78; 3 DoF

 

That dune looks awfully familiar…

Edited December 21, 2025 by Necronaut

[Mazer Rackham]

Hierax:

 

The barren wastes shift, and as they do, so does your perception. With the outriders providing support, you have attempted to follow them, but not being used to driving this vehicle, you miss the turn they make in the gloaming dark, and ground your left track on unseen rocks the bikers would have shifted over easily with their lesser weight and narrow profile.

 

It is but the work of plying levers and jabbing controls, but you get Theil's Arrow moving again, in the direction you wanted.

 

GM: In this case, Nav Tests and Drive Tests work together against topography and conditions, making them interchangeable. You just lose a bit of time; (3 DoF = 3D10 Minutes = 10)

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wastes:

 

Uldyssian:

 

The signal returns increase in strength, but now become more discernible against the background shoals of noise and reverberating static. A vox signal is also present, repetitive, exceptionally loud, and broadcasting across several Imperial channels.

Spoiler

 

 

The contact is a shoal of small augur pings, a giant raft of crimson algae on the complex machines of Thiel's Arrow.

 

Ten, twenty, thirty vehicles of varying size and shape on a near-intercept course with your Damocles Rhino.

 

Airborne.

[A.T.]

Uldyssian

 

"Incomming, unidentified auger idents. Airborne and on intercept. Transmitting on imperial channels, request visual recon on this vector".

 

All business, their situation was precarious if attacked from the air as the damocles was ill-suited to such an engagement and cover was in short supply.

[Mazer Rackham]

GM OOC: Disregard; I mis-read.

Edited December 28, 2025 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Enkush

 

At the urgent request from Uldyssian, he headed back to support the Damocles. 

 

 

Feel the thunder and the frenzy 

And see all the unusual animals 

And the animals? 

Well they're something else 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

The Wastes:

 

The deep reverberation is the first thing to sweep across the desert, hammering out across the sands with heartbeat tempo sympathetic to a herd of brachiodonts. It is the pulse of a Greenskin made manifest, and the silence of the desert night is filled with clamour as the audio arrays are choked with noise from the signal origin. A skein of lights appears over the horizon, a riot of red and green flotsam in the dark, winking with ardent intent.

 

A flock of rotor-winged airframes chops and churns in the dark sky, lozenges in diamond formations, overlapping, close-support flying that is broken by haphazard clutches of vulture-like swooping and jinking of stray and outriding airborne jigs that by any logical right should plummet instead of swoop.

 

Silhouettes paint against moon-struck landscapes.

 

Deffkoptas and the bigger variant, the Chinork Warkoptas.

 

A fleet of them.

 

A quick tally of the airframes reveal some thirty-six Kopta variants, with a dozen Chinorks, flying roughly in the same direction. They're generally holding an altitude of 200 metres, double that which Imperial pilots call NOE, or nap-of-the-Earth. Their formation proves beneficial to augury - it is clear that the overlapping flight patterns would hide the signatures of their engines and bristling arrays of weapons.

 

You can hear the caterwauling of the brutes, yelling and bawling above the din as they close. Their vector is offset from the Kill-Team's position, and even as you manoeuvre through the sand, it does not appear they have detected you. Their flight path continues, clipping across the face of Armageddon at a steady 128 knots.

[Lysimachus]

Incario:

 

Watching the Rhino's interior screens, Incario frowned. A substantial force, far beyond their ability to defeat. Their only option was to halt and hope that the beasts would fail to spot a black vehicle hull down in the darkness.

 

“Brother Raptor,” he roared, “can you conceal us from their gaze?”

 

However, the Celebrant was more concerned about what these Orks were doing. A rapid attack group, travelling at night? One that included a dozen airframes large enough to carry one or more squads of infantry? That equalled a sizeable covert insertion force. Speed and surprise could enhance the impact of these warriors far beyond their numbers, sufficient to change the entire balance of the war in this sector. It was a tactic the Astartes knew well.

 

But where would this force be applied?

 

“Can we extrapolate their target from their heading? Send a warning to wherever they are going?”

 

He smiled eagerly at the thought of a half-company of flak tanks, or better yet a few squads of his fellow Devastators, waiting to greet the koptas when they arrived wherever they were going.

 

 

 

[Necronaut]

Hierax

 

Hierax squinted at the augur reports and murmured over the squad vox, +Compliance…+

 

Taking control from the rhino’s machine spirit, he took them off of the more well-worn path, killed their running lights and aimed the transport for a steep embankment of sand, hoping to partially bury their mobile coffin.

 

 

Drive Test: Ag55

D100: 92; NOPE

Spending 1 FP for reroll (3/4 remaining)

D100: 40; 1 DoS

Edited January 2 by Necronaut
Corrected remaining FP

[Mazer Rackham]

Buzzkutta Wing, 200m above Armageddon's Desert Waste:

 

Spoiler

Perception Test (Opposed):

D100: Fail, by lots.

 

The sudden slew of sand plunges over Thiel's Arrow, scattering the coating dunes over the vehicle, and the Marine Malevolent manning the Storm bolter. Nolites is therefore in prime position to to watch as the Orkish Air Force pays no heed at all to the Space Marine strike force below them, even as his audio relays are literally battered by the thunderous beating of so many rotors in close proximity.

 

The Kopta gunships and transports are heavily laden with braying troops, and Nolites can see they are headed in the direction of the ERV.

 

They pass you by, and half an hour later, are mere pinpricks against landscape and moonlight.

 

Hierax, danger gone, you are free to continue your journey.

 

Mechanicum Weighstation K74-Ohm:

 

As you pull within outer perimeter, you get sporadic comms traffic, but it is clear the Orks have been here. Scattered and broken Skitarii and Mechanicum combat analogues are slumped and battered, rent with cleaving blades. The edges of the metal where it is shorn, are molten and glow still. The friendly signals picked up are rote, machine cant. Vehicle hulls burn where they have been parked for maintenance, some turrets looted, others smashed. All around, the detritus of despoiled works, toolsheds, spent ammunition from the defenders.

 

From within, comes the odd sting of radiation pulses on your rad monitors.

 

MAP:

Spoiler

 

GM:

 

Key: Red blocks are destroyed Mechanicum vehicles, and your Damocles is roughly the same size for scale. The dark tan blobs are craters which will provide cover, grey circles are rocks and outcrops. Black circles with arms are heavy lading cranes which can take the weight of a vehicle your size to lift for repairs and inspection.the two arrows mark the causeway traffic directions, and they are open platforms. Blue squares are Comptroller towers which jut from the top of the buildings to provide traffic control/oversight. Large blast doors can be found at each end of the linked/catamaran buildings for ingress/egress. They'll take a land raider, leaf doors that roll on tracks.

 

Each building is 20m tall to the top, with projections to house ventilation and gearing above on the four pale squares, which rise another 5m. The Comptroller towers rise another 10m, with windows at the top.

 

Edited December 31, 2025 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

Kur-Dawa

 

++Approaching Adeptus Mechanicus complex, looks like the Orks have paid a recent visit.++  He voxed back to the Rhino that was a little behind him. It had taken some time to unbury it after the impromptus hiding attempt from the Ork air force, and had trailed behind the two bikers for the last leg of the journey.

 

Switching over to speak just to the Storm Lord. ++Scouting right side if you want to take the left.++

 

Spoiler

Awareness Test to scout/observe the right side (as seen from whatever direction our approach is) of the complex.

Per: 38

d100: 08, Pass

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Kur-Dawa:

 

The Narthecium detects the rad-spikes moments before you hear the reports of the guns from within the mechanicum bunkers.

 

Someone is discharging the wrath of Mars still, and brutish firearms reply in a cackling rattle.

Edited January 2 by Mazer Rackham

[A.T.]

Uldyssian

 

Close quarters fighting, a blessing and a curse for one with a weapon such as his while defenders still stood here.

 

Stepping from the rhino he sought to identify the source of the sound with both gene-enhanced senses and the aid of the omnissiahs implants.

[Mazer Rackham]

Uldyssian:

 

Your Augments and Mars-Cant blend together to pick up the desperate binharic pleas for aid. If you didn't place the bark of jury-rigged Orkish weapons, the binharic reports Xenos are within the left bunker-block, seeking to exterminate the last Mechanicum forces oathsworn to maintain this base.

 

Anything else is a static hiss or mishmash of the Governor's fevered rantings.

 

GM: A successful Challenging (+0) Tech Use Test will download the floorplans.

[Machine God]

Enkush

 

He approached the Mechanicum Complex and slowed as he crested the dune and drove downwards a ways. He stopped, his bike idling and he listened. He tried to ascertain any signs of survivors or noospheric presence.

 

 

Who killed Bambi?

 

 

 

 

PER 59 +0 (Awareness) = 59. Result: 06, Pass 5DoS

 

 

 

 

++Scouting right side if you want to take the left++ Kur-Dawa voxxed.

 

 

Edited January 4 by Machine God
In case of Spoiler trouble

[Mazer Rackham]

Enkush:

 

GM: You detect the same as Kur-Dawa with a better understanding of the rad weapons - there are obviously Mechanicum Skitarii Vanguard within. Uldyssian will realise this at the same time.

 

 

[Necronaut]

Hierax

 

Hierax pushed back from the rhino's controls, disconnected his armour from the command throne and grabbed Whisper before disembarking through the rear hatch, giving Incario a slight nod on the way out. He gathered his adaptive-camoflage cloak about himself as he descended and squatted in the dust near Uldyssian, scanning the embattled Mechanicum service depot for hostiles through Whisper’s scope while the techmarine surveyed the scene from afar.

 

Awareness Test: Per47 + 15 (MkVI Senses) + 10 (HS) = 72

D100: 54; 1 DoS

[Mazer Rackham]

Hierax:

 

There appears to be some capering going on atop the left-most mechanicum bunker. A few grots are scaling the comptroller tower in the dark, using crude stablights and some kind of makeshift climbing apparatus. They are scaling it via the antennas, and one has a large satchel on his back, which he appears to afford a solid modicum of respect. Another Gretchin wears a headset, looted from some Imperial tank perhaps, which has been strapped about his bonce with large jubilee clips.

 

There are five of them in total, and whilst they bicker and poke at each other, it becomes quite apparent - even from this distance, they are none too keen about their task. As they precariously dither, a hatch in the top opens and a burly Ork points a slugga at them, and bawls something in his grotesque language.

 

One of the Grots says something back, which infuriates the greenskin, and he takes pot shots at the oiks abusing him with their 'lip', damaging the climbing frame and comptroller tower plascrete both.

 

The Gretchin, wisely, focus totally on their efforts, redoubling the climbing speed - displaying a strange and surprising dexterity. Each one of them carries a hide 'rigger' belt with all manner of hammers, drills, and bits. In the wash of bunker lights and the waning dark, they do not appear to have noticed they have Space Marine guests.

[Necronaut]

Hierax

 

+Contact,+ he muttered over the squad vox. +Climbing the comptroller tower…+

 

He watched the wretched little creatures scramble up the side of the structure, and lined up a shot on the lead gretchin, but he stayed his hand, not wishing to alert the xenos to their presence. It was unclear what tactical significance this outpost served, save that it was galling that any Imperial assets should fall into enemy hands. If they were going to act, they needed a plan.

 

+Orders?+

[Lysimachus]

Incario:

 

Incario bailed out behind the Raptor, scanning for targets. He saw the riggers, especially the one carrying the satchel. Explosives? If the Orks wanted to destroy something up there, then it seemed logical that the Astartes should try to protect it. He looked down at Drumroll. Not a viable way to scrape the Gretchin off the tower, then. He might do as much damage as the device they were carrying.

 

Hierax spoke, and Incario replied.

 

+Think you can take out the one with the satchel? Clean?+

 

He looked at the others.

 

+Are those Imperial forces within? Do we have contact? Can they advise us as to their location, or what point of entry we should use?+