Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Main Gates, Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:30:01]
Following the transmissions, the two Deathwatch marines and the Iron Snake overcome the mutual surprise of their encounter in little more than an eye-blink, their rigidly indoctrinated training promptly moving them into perfectly choreographed flanking positions against the far more numerous penitents.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Main Gates, Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:30:01]
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-07
The Signs of A Bloody Skirmish, 50 meters Southwest of the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus'/Brother Emeric's Synchronized Chrono Readings: [2:29:21]
Advancing steadily to the northwest through the blizzard, Brother Syne takes point, just far enough ahead to still remain visible to his fellow Battle-Brothers through the heavy snowfall. Leading the rest of Kill-team Umbra along the trail of the Magos' blood, the Dark Angel is grateful for the near white-out conditions, as it makes them nearly invisible to any shrikes that may still be circling overhead. Eli maintains his vigilance, however, knowing that the opposite is also true, and he has no wish to stumble across a Tyranid warrior in such poor visibility.
He stops short, signalling his brethren with one upraised fist to halt. Ahead of him in a crown-like formation of rocks is the bisected remains of a twitching combat servitor, sparks still arcing from its ruined body. Nearby lay the bodies of two bloody naval crewmen, and the carcasses of two Tyranid Hormagaunts, one of the beasts fused to rocks, its body apparently nearly liquified by a melta-blast.
Larger spatters and pools of the odd blackish blood found at the crash site are also here, but there is no sign of the Magos.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-07
The Signs of A Bloody Skirmish, 50 meters Southwest of the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus'/Brother Emeric's Synchronized Chrono Readings: [2:29:21]
"The magos was here, but the battle has confused the tracks."
Larger spatters and pools of the odd blackish blood found at the crash site are also here, but there is no sign of the Magos.
Advancing to Brother Eli's position, I make an auger array reading.
Analyzing data...
Willpower test
Reroll in case I need it
Hrothgar dictates on the vox to Emeric. "Found an Iron Snake, moving to suppress xenos symphatizers. Will follow shortly."
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Main Gates, Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:29:54]
The Iron Snake hesitates under the massive barrage from the heavy stubber, his armor already riddled and scored by hundreds of impacts from small arms fire, the chapter livery on his combat shield defaced with countless dents. Three of the four penitents rushing from the flanking edges of the hanger doors lob their grenades, dropping to the earth and covering up as soon as they let them go. The fourth, priming it for too long, explodes with a dull krump, spraying gobbets of his body in every direction, his disembodied legs pinwheeling through the air.
Brother Decius watches as the trio of grenades clatter around near his feet, skidding over the apron of ice that intrudes on the deck plating inside the hanger. He must act quickly.
The Storm Warden shoulders his bolter, taking careful aim as he rips an arrow straight shot of the frangible metal storm round at the stubber crew that has pivoted to face he and Brother Hrothgar.
The bolt casing ignites with a flare of tracer light as it nears the gunner hunkered down over his weapon, before exploding into a conical shower of razor sharp titanium alloy shrapnel. It shreds the man to pieces, throwing him back to the ground as if he was poleaxed. The spray of slivers riddle the loader and weapon as well, killing him outright and spraying sparks and blood in all directions. With an awful clatter the chattering weapon slips to point toward the sky, cooking off its remaining load before jamming and going silent.
His jump pack's thrusters igniting with hiss of the air intakes, Brother Hrothgar vaults himself into the air, clearing the corner of the gate and taking flight in a narrow parabola up and over the top of the wall and a dozen meters above the overturned land hauler. The penitents try to follow his ascent at first with their sustained fire, but they are undisciplined and disoriented by his vertigo inducing flight, missing him entirely. Landing with a clang of his magboots upon side of the massive metal excavator shovel on the front of the disabled vehicle, he brandishes his growling chainsword over the panicked gun crew, sweeping his blade down in a vicious cut above the empty fuel canisters they use for cover.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-07
The Signs of A Bloody Skirmish, 50 meters Southwest of the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus'/Brother Emeric's Synchronized Chrono Readings: [2:29:21]
Brother Syne curses the weather under his vox as he looks at the ruination the skirmish and snow has wrought upon the Magos' trail. He stalks the edges of the confrontation looking for any hint of the substantial blood trail the Magos was leaking. It is strange, almost as if the senior tech-priest somehow simply willed or 'shut-off' the life-threatening blood-loss he must have been suffering from.
The techmarine examines the scene of carnage as well, carefully scrutinizing the cut-in-half combat servitor and the shattered servo skull. Calibrating his auger array, he sweeps the horizon west by northwest, and is rewarded by a steady, but faint signal of non-Tyranid bio-signs coming from the that direction.
Glancing at the sparking servitor, the blessed inspiration of the Omnissiah shines upon his cogitations.
Brother Quintus, Brother Vex, and Brother Sepheren survey the destruction, the Blood Angel shaking the hideously deformed hormagaunt's carapace, cracking it off of the spar of rock the melta-blast has fused it to. He sagely prods and pokes at the burnt chitin, taking samples of the tissue beneath for later examination. A ghost of sound carries over the wind, a faint screeching and another noise, far more familiar to the veteran marines.
Agility Test to lob the grenades back
Agility 51 + 10
While everyone spreads out and searchs with there superior senses, of sight, and hearing. I reach out with my Mind.
Agility Test to lob the grenades back
Agility 51 + 10
1d100
Doubtful that his combat shield is resilient enough to endure the blast of three krak grenades, Brother Decius lunges forward, grabbing one of the grenades in each hand, mindful of the fate of the exploding penitent. He heaves both overhand into the firing line of the convicts, grinning grimly beneath his helm as they frantically try to scatter.
With successive explosions the two grenades detonate before they even hit the ground again, pulping a number of the autogun-wielding convicts before they can move out of the range of the airburst overhead.
The concussive force is powerful even where Brother Decius stands in the open hangar doorway, and the vibration ruins his plan to kick the final grenade out on to the open snowfield where the man who lobbed it cowers on the ground. Instead his armored boot only gives it a glancing blow when he hits it. Diving to his left knowing what is to follow, the Iron Snake exhales deeply, preparing for the blast.
A numbing pain shoots up both of the Iron Snake's legs as he dives prone to the ground, but the wound is a minor one at worst, and as the auto-dispensed pain reductors course through his bloodstream, he quickly regains his feet, ignoring the dull ache in his left knee, knowing his survival is at stake.
Hrothgar lands with a heavy thump and immediately carves a bloody swath among the heretics. Limbs fly several meters in the air as the whine of the chainsword blends with their screams.
"Death comes for you!!!!"
"I have sustained worst wounds" starting to stand up "Pain and death are illusions of the weak of mind. While my gene-seed returns to the Chapter and those of my brothers, I cannot die. Without death, pain loses its relevance" with a grin and ready to charge forward to his enemies, he speaks to the other marines "Pain is the wine of communion marines and only heroes drink it, now let's be drunk with it and show them the righteous path to the Emperor's grace, so he may forgive them for their sins, for I shall not"
Momentarily receiving this news with profound surprise, I nonetheless pass it along, "Report from the motor pool: Hrothgar and Caledonii are liberating an Astartes and will be with us shortly."
The techmarine... is rewarded by a steady, but faint signal of non-Tyranid bio-signs coming from the that direction.
Praise the Emperor! Omnissiah--Protect your data-core! Protect your Magos!
"Brothers, confirmed bio-sign signal to the northwest. Non-xenos. Must be Magos Vyakai!"I look down at the bisected servitor. Noticing the lack of blood beyond this point, I cogitate with a high degree of probability what transpired.
I make the sign of the Aquila, bend down on one knee, and give a sacramental benediction to the combat machine, "Bless you my simple battle device for your humble spirit and profound sacrifice." Keeping a gauntlet on the servitor, I look northwest, "...may your unguents continue to flow." Then I appeal skyward, "Omnissiah receive this one for he truly served the cause of Knowledge."
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-07
The Signs of A Bloody Skirmish, 50 meters Southwest of the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus'/Brother Emeric's Synchronized Chrono Readings: [2:29:21]
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Main Gates, Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:28:37]
As Hrothgar hews and rips his way through the panicked convicts, enough of the confused throng recover their wits to begin returning fire, their scavenged Munitorum sidearms and autoguns raining a hail of bullets upon the Space Wolf.
The countless small arms rounds impacting Brother Hrothgar's powered armor eventually take their toll, but it bothers him little more than the steady clatter of the sleet, and he hacks into those who would dare oppose him.
Too occupied with taking cover from the bone-jarring explosions caused by the krak grenades, the majority of the convicts are unable to sustain fire on Brother Decius' position. With the crew of the heavy stubber no more, it is all they can do to deal with the assault marine suddenly in their midst. Brother Decius seizes the advantage the distraction causes.
After eliminating the stubber emplacement, Brother Caledonii shifts his fire, but quickly ducks back to take cover from the dozens of autoguns trained on his position.
A few ricocheting rounds penetrate the armor girding Brother Caledonii's legs, but deal him no real lasting harm, even as the gate he uses for cover becomes so perforated by bullet-holes that he can quite easily see his foes through it.
Seeing the 2 heavy stubber teams go down its time to clean up this mess and see if we can get some mode of transportation from this place. "I am going to bring the hammer of the Emperor down on the northern grouping if you 2 can clean up the southern."
I will make a tactical advance to approach them since I think they are out of my charge distance for now...
"Let the Emperor guide your aim marine, because we will finish all the work if you are not quick enough"
For Rook
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-07
The Signs of A Bloody Skirmish, 50 meters Southwest of the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus'/Brother Emeric's Synchronized Chrono Readings: [2:29:21]
Brother Quintus, Brother Syne, and Brother Sepheren hear only the keening of the fierce wind, and the after-echo of a sound that may have been a distant explosion to the northwest. As Brother Emeric completes his benediction over the fallen combat servitor, he notices Brother Vex staring off into the middle-distance, toward the main refinery complex.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Main Gates, Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:28:03]
Seeing the Space Wolf land amongst the throng of convicts, Brother Decius cautiously advances on their position, Ithakan sea-lance and combat shield held high.
Brother Caledonii steps out from his cover and his Godywn pattern bolter spits thunderous death at the poor convicts unfortunate enough to be in the path of his fire near the tall mound of scrap. The echoing crack of the Metal Storm round's sub-munitions firing once in close proximity to their targets flays the majority of the unsuspecting men surrounding those initially blown to pieces by the shells' impact. The carnage is spectacular and overwhelming, completely decimating the escaped penitent's position in a matter of moments.
At least a dozen of the closely packed convicts are shredded by the shrapnel. Of the handful that survive, those lucky enough to have dropped prone or otherwise benefited from sturdier cover, there is no question in their minds a similar fate awaits them if they continue to resist. They quickly rise and flee for the outlying buildings, abandoning their weapons, driven by the fear and panic elicited by the presence of a roused Astartes' fury.
As Brother Emeric completes his benediction over the fallen combat servitor, he notices Brother Vex staring off into the middle-distance, toward the main refinery complex.
The librarian... vacant eyes... staring at the sky, arm stretched outward... witchery!
"Brother-Librarian?"
My eyes glaze over with the witch sight the Emperor blessed me with upon my birth. I stare into the blizzard, and the flake that fall form into words, like faith, courage, honor, and loyalty before they scattered away again into the wind.
"There are men close by. I can feel them. Courage, honor, grim resignation...strength of duty...There is a leader amongest them."
"A final stand..."
My eyes clear, and I regain my focus.
"I ask permission to seek these men out Squad Leader. If these men die this day let there deeds, and names not be forgotten; but recorded as an example to others. If the Emperor wills it some may be given leave to depart this doomed world instead of being consumed by it."
Brother Sepheren's voice comes over the vox, a note of uncertainty in his voice.
"Was that an explosion, or have I been listening to this thrice-damned wind for too long?"
Hrothgar fires his jump pack in an attempt to return to his previous position, he flings his two remaining frag grenades at the enemy as he flies away.
"How far away are they and in what direction?"
"How far away are they and in what direction?"
"Hard to tell distance. They are very powerful emotions being filtered by the psychic curtain of the hive mind. My best estimate would be no more than 150 meters."
I point in the direction where I felt them.
"Does this direction coincide with the grenade explode you heard?"
"The Magos is in that direction. Let us hasten. The Emperor's own may be defending his eminence and the holy data core."
Wielding bolter and chainsword, I am prepared to unleash vengeance.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:27:21]
Hrothgar fires his jump pack in an attempt to return to his previous position, he flings his two remaining frag grenades at the enemy as he flies away.
1d100
1d100
Like a retributive angel, the former skyclaw sweeps both arms to his sides, deftly mag-locking the chainsword with one hand while simultaneously plucking two frag grenades from his combat webbing with the other. Using a juggler's grace, he flips one of the gridded spheroids from one hand to the other, catching it deftly and then depressing the primers on both as the bullets continue to clang and ricochet off of his armor. Inclining his helmeted head skyward, Brother Hrothgar vaults back into the air on the swirling plumes of the jump-pack's exhaust, his gauntlets casually flipping the grenades into the midst of the distracted penitents myopically focused on firing upon him.
His highly attuned auto-senses pick up the panicked warning cry of one of the more observant men below as he clear the roof-line of the blockhouse.
The explosions occur simultaneously, shards of ice, fragments of metal, and body parts shooting into the air in the Space Wolf's wake. The concussive effects of the blasts agitate the steeply-pitched roof of the blockhouse to such a degree that a small avalanche of dislodged snow surges down from above, preceded by a rain of dagger-sharp icicles from the gutters along the edge of the roof-line to drown the surviving convicts trying to regather their wits under a thick blanket of snow.
Although sporadic fire continues from the handful of panicked convict survivors who managed to emerge unscathed after the twin explosions of Brother Hrothgar's parting gifts, or the subsequent impalement and suffocation under a crashing wave of ice and snow that followed, it is mostly defensive, as the majority of the desperate men in the starkly visible orange environment suits flee for the shelter of the nearby buildings.
Brother Decius, on a vengeful collision course with the after-effects of Brother Hrothgar's carnage, effortlessly uses his sea-lance to skewer two of the concussed men running in his direction that are foolish enough to fire upon him. More stragglers flee to every side, some even into the teeth of Brother Caledonii's bolter fire, and the Storm Warden exterminates those who dare raise their guns again.
From his high vantage point hovering over the compound, Brother Hrothgar can see the licking flames from the explosions alongside the blockhouse and overturned land hauler, as well as the lingering clouds of grey-blue smoke coalescing from all of the weapon's fire. He counts no more than a dozen of the convicts fleeing, their weapons cast away in terror of the Emperor's champions.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-05
The Signs of A Bloody Skirmish, 50 meters Southwest of the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus'/Brother Emeric's Synchronized Chrono Readings: [2:28:01]
As the marines hurriedly close the ground between the site of the shuttle crash and the looming shadow of the main refinery complex's primary gatehouse, Brother Sepheren answers both Quintus and Vex together. His voice carries with it a certainty about what he has heard, and adds another detail as you draw nearer.
"Brother-Librarian Vex is correct, the explosion definitely originated from the northwest. I cannot be certain, but I believe I also have heard the screams of men dying in battle carried over the wind. The senses of an Apothecary are finely attuned to such sounds of suffering, and mine have heard more than their fair share."
As we plow through the ice and storm a gnawing in my gut says we may be too late to save the Magos. Omnissiah, give him strength...
Approaching the gatehouse I seek with the auger array:
Either due to my hurried movements or bizarre weather, the returning electromagnetic pulse yields only conflicting and confusing data.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:27:21][ooc]Your prize, wrested from the penitents is the largely intact, tracked cargo-8 tractor-hauler with an enclosed trailer sitting in the hangar that Brother Decius took shelter in.
I look into the cab of the vehicle and see if it has a longer range communications device for this type of weather. If so I will enter our frequency and send a message "Success in finding a vehicle that might work. We have also found a Iron Snake that was holding of some penitents that is now disbursed. Need coordinates for a rendezvous." I see if the hauler will start and how much speed we will get.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Omicron-Upsilon-12
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Motor Pool Compound
241.817.M41
Brother Hrothhgar's Estimated Time: [2:24:11]
After ascertaining that the tracked cargo-8 hasn't taken anything beyond cosmetic damage from the firefight, Brother Caledonii pulls himself up to the elevated cab some two meters off of the ground and grins beneath his helmet when he sees that it is bench seating in the front, and his armor should not interfere. It will be cramped, but he should be able to drive it after all. Reaching across the interior console, his gauntlet disappears under the steering wheel to find a set of keys attached to the furry, white, severed foot of some lucky indigenous fauna. Moving as delicately as he can within the powered armor, he turns the key and is rewarded on the first try with a rumble of the engine starting. He checks the relevant gauges, relieved to find that the fuel is also topped off. A cursory glance around the cab finds a long-range vox-caster, and he can see the curving whip antennae erupting from the hood through the windshield. Turning it on, he raises the oversized vox-horn to his own speaker grill and broadcasts his message to the others.
While awaiting a response, he looks behind him through the small, rectangular rear window in the back of the cab at the enclosed trailer, which is half-open at the end where it meets the cab. About a dozen or so meters long, it is completely empty save for the sludgy stains of leaked promethium surrounding about ten or so empty drums.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-05
25 meters Southeast of the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus'/Brother Emeric's Synchronized Chrono Readings: [2:24:07]
Grimacing when his auspex scan yields nothing due to the interference of the storm, Brother Emeric stops short, looking up in time to see Brother Syne, at the crest of the next icy hillock signalling another stop with a hand signal.
At roughly the same moment, the techmarine notices a tell-tale illuminate on his helmet read-out signifying an incoming signal on the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Maintenance frequency.
<<<'Success in finding a vehicle that might work. We have also found an Iron Snake that was holding off some penitents that are now dispersed. Need coordinates for a rendezvous.'>>>
The voice is Brother Caledonii's.
While Brother Emeric receives the message, his brethren reach the crest beside Brother Syne, who stares through the telescopic sight on his needle rifle. He tries to take in everything he sees in the looming shadow of the massive refinery gatehouse, its towering height serving as a windbreak of sorts for the whirling maelstrom of the blizzard.
The wide hangar doors of the primary refinery's gatehouse structure hang open like a broken maw, leading into the darkness of the transportation shed within. The place is anything but abandoned, however, as you can see the bright flare of las-shots through the swirling snow and the dull roar of hastily bellowed orders punctuated by the occasional krump of a detonating grenade. Advancing still closer, down the escarpment to get a clearer view of the tactical situation, Brother Syne can now see into the yawning entry of the gatehouse where the overturned wreck of a tracked cargo-8 rests on its side. Taking up defensive positions with one flank blocked by the crashed vehicle and the other covered by one of the massive hangar doors are a ragged squad of Imperial Guardsmen hunkered down in firing positions. The bodies of more Guardsmen are scattered across the area, and among them are the mangled and burned remains of at least a dozen Tyranid Termagants. Easily a score more of the hideous xenos advance on the Imperial position, supported by the huge, bat-winged monstrosities wheeling in the strong winds overhead. The nightmarish Shrikes begin to circle around in a tight, arrowhead formation, beginning a steep dive toward the wrecked cargo-8, their blood-drenched, scythe-like claws held hungrily before them.
Standing stark and straight amidst the soldiers is the unmistakable figure of a young Imperial Commissar, his long black coat whipping behind him, tattered and bloodstained. Displaying no fear or concern for his own safety, he is shouting admonishments to his men to stand firm and die for the Emperor's glory. Beyond them, on the southern corner of the protruding gatehouse structure, movement ripples through the rocks as more Termagants muster for a flanking attack.
Hrothgar lands near Caledonii's position.
"The Iron Priests will be angry with me again." Hrothgar referring to the damage done to his wargear.
"No doubt Brother. Lets forget this rabble and lets get going. I am just waiting for a return signal so we can meet up with the others."
Relying on my expertise in defensive warfare. I look for a position to set up an optimal crossfire location to support the Commissars troops against the incoming shrikes.
"Iron Snake, are you still there?"
"Come to us. We need to rejoin with the others."
Hrothgar takes a position to cover the Iron Snake's path.
"Are there more of you here?" as he approaches the two marines of the Deathwatch.
After asking his question he puts a hand on the shoulder pad of the Ultramarine for a moment "Well fought, worthy of being in the emperor's service and the Deathwatch, let Guilliam bless you for your skill Ultramarine"
Turning to face the Space Wolf "You fought with fury and well placed blows Space Wolf, maybe some day we can train a bit and drink a lot more"
On a serious tone of voice and taking one step back to face both of them "I wish to recover the gene-seed of my brothers but I'm no apothecary and I do not know the exact location of the rest of my brothers would you help me on this, or failing to do that... I will continue to follow you to a safe point" awaiting an answer, his tone of voice sounds grim and full of pain as he recalls his brothers and his debt of blood to them.