Deathwatch: Sons of Jericho IC

Game Master Rookseye

Does the fact we have cohesion again mean that the Favorite Son gives us another +1 to cohesion, giving us a total of 3 cohesion points?

Good question, Lorm.

I'm leaning toward allowing the point for the Ultramarine Favorite Son ability and the point for Hrothgar's armor trait, Lead From the Front, to be restored once a net positive Cohesion score is regained after it has been reduced to 0. I've pored over the rulebook and errata and considered it from many angles, but it just doesn't seem to make sense that Quintus' inherent leadership talent for being an Ultramarine, and Hrothgar's inspiring armor just stop being those things once the Cohesion is reduced to 0. I would think that once one point is regained (either from Fate, or Objective) these bonuses would apply again.

One thing I would rule is that this 2 point restoration couldn't occur during an encounter, restoring itself only after the fight when the Kill-team has had an ample chance to regroup.

Updated Cohesion to 4.

I guess my awareness roll wasn't that great since I had no success or failure?

Correct, Decius, you succeeded in the test but gained no additional degrees of success.

I use standard weaponry for a space marine, not deathwatch, but bullets should still fit my bolter if I have it around me

Following the confrontation with the Penitents in the Motor Pool, it was mentioned by me that Brother Hrothgar and Brother Caledonii each provided Brother Decius with a clip of ammunition. A couple more from Brother Emeric should hold the Iron Snake for bolter ammo for the rest of the scenario. You still possess your bolter, and it is in working order, you just don't have any special ammunition (subject to change if someone feels particularly generous).

By my reading of the rules, when Cohesion dropped to zero Fire for Effect was no longer sustained and thus ended. Someone would have to reinitialize it.

This is correct, the Cohesion cost for Fire For Effect will have to be spent again, just let me know if this is your choice for the Squad Mode ability.

Seeing that I still have my full compliment of frag and krak grenades. I hand the Iron Snake one of each.

I will go into Squad Mode.

I reach out with my mind seeing if I can contact what little part of the Magos brain that is still human.

I keep my bolt pistol and force sword ready, seeing that such a dark cavernous space would be idea hunting ground for additional lictors.

I will reinstate the Fire for Effect

Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Nu-Tau-04
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Refinery Central Control, Penitent Housing
241.817.M41
Chrono Reading: [1:24:54]

Total degrees of success for the skill tests of those marines on point during the search of the Penitent Housing is 9. Five for Tracking between Brother Decius and Caledonii, two for Brother Decius for Tactics (Recon & Stealth), and two for Brother Syne for Awareness.

This is one degree off from a complete success threshold, as I had set it at ten degrees. Nine degrees results in the next best outcome, reducing your search time, avoiding the ambushes of foes, and using your inherent stealth and the clues that you find in the building to full effect.

Time is of the essence.

Kill-team Umbra enters the expansive vaulted chamber that comprises the majority of the Penitent Housing building in Central Control with a purpose, knowing full well that little to no time remains for them to successfully locate Magos Vyakai with any hope for a clean extraction. Brother Decius, Brother Caledonii, and Brother Syne take point, moving through the gloomy interior of the wide prisoner common area, following the trail of blood and debris left in the Magos' wake. Meanwhile, the rest of the squad monitor for threats, sweeping their weaponry to either side and upward, covering the quintuple-tiered mezzanine cell-block levels high overhead, the grated catwalks and tightly-spaced bars of the countless individual cell doors above casting slanting shadows across the cold rockcrete flooring.

The Iron Snake and Storm Warden keep the trail even as it becomes less evident the further you proceed into the prison, never doubting their highly attuned senses, stopping only occasionally to check for signs of blood on the floor or scuffs from the tech-priest's injured leg. Brother Decius signals the others to advance, time and time again, keeping the marines in sound formation, the discipline paying off when Brother Syne detects a hormagaunt ambush just before the skittering creatures emerge from their hiding places. Shouting a warning just in time, the Kill-team quickly takes covered firing stances around the floor-bolted tables and benches in the mess hall near the center of the vast room. The explosive fire of their bolters is deafening in the echoing building, and the marines make short work of the dozens of ravening Tyranid that surge forth from the open cells and shadowed catwalks, efficiently ripping them to pieces with sustained fire, none of the xenos getting within five meters of their prey.

Barely halting to catch their breath after the pitched battle, the Deathwatch and their Iron Snake ally move still deeper into the complex, the trail never going cold. They leave the main penitentiary, navigating through the adjoining commissary, a maze of ransacked Administratum offices, and their respective connecting corridors, before reaching what is called out on the cartographic display as the central Munitorum garrison. Here the guards charged with monitoring the prisoners conducted their surveillance with aid of pict-screens and vox-speakers, all arranged in a triple-tiered ring of cogitator stations behind a spherical grill-work cage. The locked security door proves little trouble to Brother Emeric's servo-arm. Bypassing much of this wing, and ignoring the faint life-readings in the adjoining areas that can only be isolated Tyranids, the Kill-team continues on, the trail leading to an unpowered lift-bank with flanking stairwells.

Still on the Magos' trail, the Kill-team takes the descending stair into the catacombs. Following lightless tunnels carved into the permafrost, they pass through maze-like passageways strewn with cabling, connecting storage areas behind thick bulkhead doors, and wide chemical processing vaults. Finally, stepping over the corpses of Munitorum personnel and vanguard xenos alike, the marines come to a sealed, meter-thick vault-door, equilaterally pentagonal in shape, marked with pale yellow Gothic letters identifying it as Central Operational Control for the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Refinery. A thinning trail of still wet plasma leads down the middle of the corridor before disappearing underneath the almost seamless join between the door and its housing. Referencing the cartographic information, you can see from the schematics that there is no secondary exit from the large circular room beyond.

Brother Vex, please attempt a Hard [-20] Psyniscience test (I'm assuming you attempt this once you have reached the sealed door to Central Operational Control).

Squad Mode Ability, Fire For Effect renewed, two Cohesion deducted.

Brother Emeric, please attempt an Easy [+30] Common Lore (Tech) skill test.

Because of the tight quarters, I will have my bolt pistol out.

Psyniscience test (1d100=60)

With the Magos life blood leaving, and the encroaching mass of the Xenos Horde I am not surprised that I am unable to find any sentience other than the countless thoughts of the Hive Mind with only one pursuit... feed.

Loading my bolter and giving my thanks for the clips I check my bolter one last time and keep moving forward using standard signals to give information to the other marines.

I can use a Fate Point to activate my Squad Mode to benefit the rest of the squad with it?

Enter Squad Mode / Fire for Effect

As we approach the command vault, I am left to wonder at the lost amount of fluid and blood. Can he still be alive?

"The trail ends here, Brothers."

I scan the doors and look for a control panel.

I do not have Tech listed under my Common Lore skills so I'm unsure of my skill roll.

Tech-use (45) + easy (30) = 75?
Tech-use/2 (22) + easy (30) = 52?

1d100 ⇒ 10

Guess I make it either way...

Bolt Pistol (Standard Ammo) and Chainsword out.

Knowing their time is short, the Kill-team forms up in a loose phalanx before the pentagonal vault-door.

Brother Vex probes outward with his mind, but only discovers the pervasive whispers of the Hive-Mind are again stirring, casting an opaque shadow over the Immaterium. The main host cannot be far away, as the scrabbling, ravenously unified insanity of their psychic imprint staggers him slightly in its power.

Tech-Use test successful. Odd, Emeric, I just assumed the techmarine starting profile included Common Lore (Tech). Don't worry, Tech-Use is more than enough in this particular circumstance to get the job done.

The Black Templar techmarine moves toward the secure interface panel for the door's primary controls, and examines it intently for a moment. With all of the primary power offline in the facility, it appears the Control Center beyond, for its importance, has warranted its own tithe of the auxiliary power. Winking red indicator lights show that the door is firmly secured, and glowing tell-tale runes reveal that it has been recently bypassed by use of an electro-graft input. Extending his own input, Brother Emeric accesses the portal's in-built cogitator and uses a brute-force algorithm to override the Munitorum's moderately taxing ward-seal.

The techmarine grimaces slightly when the door does not verify as open. Examining the locking mechanisms more closely, it appears that whoever last entered the chamber fouled the tumblers rather elegantly, fusing them to the bulkhead with a pinpoint blast from a melta-beam. The slagged mess inside would preclude any automated opening. Considering the unexpected complication and gauging the width of the damage, Brother Emeric can see that with the right application of one of his fusion torches, he may be able clear the obstruction and retain enough of the intact components for the bulkhead to be manually wheeled open.

Brother Emeric, please attempt a Challenging [+0] Security test to bypass the sabotage inflicted on the door.

While the techmarine examines the doorway the remainder of Kill-Team Umbra and the Iron Snake gird themselves for whatever may come next.

Through my electro-graft jack, I see the schematic of the locking mechanism in my mind. Using the multi-key, combi-tool, as well as a common fusion torch, I register a potential solution.

"The Magos' handiwork is evident. Attempting to bypass security counter-measures."

Security (43) 1d100 ⇒ 85

Fate point re-roll: 1d100 ⇒ 31

The techmarine bends his prodigious frame to the task at hand, tiny bursts of white-hot flame stabbing out from the fusion torches arrayed on spidery micro-mechadendrites emerging from his gauntlet. His other hand alternates between his multikey and combi-tool on the lock-seal, manipulating the remaining tumblers even as he almost surgically excises the others.

The door groans with a hiss as it settles slightly in the housing. Given its durasteel and adamantine composite construction, it likely will prove extraordinarily heavy to move manually, even for space marines.

Moving the door requires an Arduous [-40] Strength test, remember the Aid Another action can be applied here. Who will be opening the door?

Putting my weapons away, I will step forward to lend my back into the opening of the door assisting whomever has the better grip.

Backing up slightly so the Librarian may pass by, I extend my servo-arm and lever the pentagonal vault-door near the top.

Servo-arm strength (75), Unnatural Toughness x2 (Strength bonus 14)

If need be I will temporarily go to solo mode and use Feat of Strength to make the multiplier x3

Strength Test Roll 1d100 ⇒ 32

All of your calculations looks correct, Eradico.

Strength test is successful by three degrees.

Brother Emeric retracts his fusion torch and diagnosticator, extending the ponderous head of his servo-arm to grip the topmost edge of the five-sided door. When its magnetic face affixes, a hollow tolling, as of a great bell sounding echoes down the subterranean passageway. Praying for the might of the Omnissiah, he waits for Brother Vex to position himself at the base of the door, the resolute Dark Angel pressing his chapter-pauldron hard up against the lubricant-stained surface.

With a ratcheting clack-clack of actuators engaging and a deep, low thrumming sound from the fusion generator in his servo-harness, the Black Templar pulls forward with his servo-arm, wrenching the heavy door forward like a great, flat-edge wheel. A horrible scraping sound and shower of orange sparks dance upward from the base of the door as it grinds across its housing, and Brother Vex pushes with all of his might as well, rolling the damaged door into the far wall, turning it across two sides until it halts halfway open before totally jamming itself in the lower track.

The weak, amber-hued emergency lighting in the Control Center for the Refinery pulses on and off through the gap, revealing a wide circular chamber, approximately twenty meters wide. A circular outer ring of cogitator displays, monitoring equipment, and control systems for the refinery's various extraction pumps, purification systems, and pipelines encircle the circumference of the room, while five, equally-sized, pentagonal desks of similar equipment are evenly clustered in the sunken well of the chamber, reached by a small flight of five steps from the upper tier. Above these five desks, wrapped in a nimbus of flickering black and white static is suspended a ring of several large pict-monitors.

A cowled figure stands, almost preternaturally still and rigidly upright directly below them in the middle of the circular floor, head slouched awkwardly to one side, its back almost fully turned to you. Gummy fluid, almost tar-like in its color and consistency has congealed along the right side of the figure's head, and wetter streams still course down its robes. Something on the figure's back, a metallic protuberance jutting jaggedly from the region of its robes near the right shoulder-blade, sparks with electric-blue light, causing your darksight visors to flare with each emission.

What will you do?

"Apothecary!"

I enter the room cautiously and with great consternation. As I approach the figure below I announce, "Magos Vyakai! This is the Deathwatch! Prepare for extraction!"

At the same time I direct a blip of binary code:

<<<001010101010001--Life is directed motion//The spirit is the spark of life//Sentience is the ability to learn the value of knowledge//Intellect is the understanding of knowledge//Sentience is the basest form of Intellect//Understanding is the True Path to Comprehension//Comprehension is the key to all things//The Omnissiah knows all, comprehends all--010010111010111>>>

I descend the steps to investigate, assuming that Brother Sepheren is following.

Hrothgar follows hoping that his enhanced senses will make a difference.

Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Nu-Tau-02
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Refinery Central Control, Catacombs
241.817.M41
Chrono Reading: [1:08:54]

Seeing the gravely injured Magos, Brother Sepheren quickly advances into the chamber, only to be stayed by the Black Templar's gauntlet across his armored torso.

Already sensing that something is amiss, Brother Emeric hails the tall tech-priest in his usual clipped and efficient manner of speaking, followed by a burst of binary code emitted from his vox that for the others sounds like little more than a modulated burst of static.

Magos Zardos Vyakai of the Adepta Biologis slowly revolves in place, swaying almost drunkenly as he moves, before his mechanica-infused body abruptly goes rigid like a soldier standing at attention. He completes his movement with a disturbing precision that speaks to the truth that he is truly more machine than man. Now facing you, his posture is remains upright until whatever damage his motivators sustained causes one half of his body to slouch to one side with an erratic motion.

The Magos' cowl falls away from his lower face to reveal a shattered vox-grill so damaged that one half is cracked, the durable metallic composition of the half-mask rendered into something akin to serrated foil. Red-black blood and centimeter-deep lacerations cover that side of his face, mixing with the lubricants secreted from damaged ocular implants to make him appear as if he is weeping. Criss-crossing coils of ridged conduit, some ruptured and spraying a fine mist of coolant into the still air, dangle in front of his chest where a damaged re-breather housing flashes a glowing red warning rune. His array of delicate, almost spider-like mechadendrites gesture randomly in the air from where they erupt from his shoulders and back, the pair that are severed sparking and hissing with winking blue electrical pulses.

As if sensing some threat he cannot full perceive, the Magos raises one articulated bionic hand, the cylindrical cowling of his meltagun ratcheting into a locked firing position. His other arm slowly follows suit, its stiff movement showing it is already considerably damaged, angling an infernus pistol in your direction, held weakly aloft by his spasmodically twitching hand.

An unintelligible (even for Brother Emeric) chatter of static-filled machine cant escapes his vox-grill with a rising, warbling tone of warning. The message it sends needing no further interpretation for the marines.

OK, big roll coming up.

Brother Emeric, please attempt either a Hard [-20] Fellowship characteristic test, or a Challenging [+0] Forbidden Lore (Adeptus Mechanicus) test or a Challenging [+0] Speak Language (Techna-Lingua) test.

Checking Brother Sepheren's advance, I take one more step forwards to the top of the stairs directly above the Magos. As his weapons draw a bead I whisper a prayer to the Omnissiah, "Machine God, grant me wisdom; reveal Your will."

Staring at both barrels, there are only seconds before the Vyakai unleashes a lethal fusillade. In that time I cogitate a potential solution to this deadly quandary. From the time when first billeted on Erioch, when not involved in team training, I spent weeks in the library data-stacks and pored over information provided by Deathwatch tech-savants. My eyes glaze as I deep-dive into my own memory banks, fast-accessing report after report, schematic after schematic...*cogitating*...

Rook, Brother Emeric is triggering his demeanor: studious.

Attempting Challenging Speak Language (Techna-Lingua) transmission using older, basic burst of binary language.

Speak Techna-Lingua (45) + Demeanor modifier (either +10 or +20 determined by GM, see p. 33) = 55 or 65

Since this type of modifier is declared prior to making roll (see fate point use, p. 204), Rook please make this roll for Emeric. If roll fails, I believe Emeric has a final fate-point left for a re-roll. For the Emperor!

Checking Brother Sepheren's advance, I take one more step forwards to the top of the stairs directly above the Magos. As his weapons draw a bead I whisper a prayer to the Omnissiah, "Machine God, grant me wisdom; reveal Your will."

Staring at both barrels, there are only seconds before the Vyakai unleashes a lethal fusillade. In that time I cogitate a potential solution to this deadly quandary. From the time when first billeted on Erioch, when not involved in team training, I spent weeks in the library data-stacks and pored over information provided by Deathwatch tech-savants. My eyes glaze as I deep-dive into my own memory banks, fast-accessing report after report, schematic after schematic...*cogitating*...

Rook, Brother Emeric is triggering his demeanor: studious.

Studious Demeanor activated successfully, Brother Emeric. For the excellent post and the above and beyond roleplaying, I will be using the +20 modifier.

Rolling test, Speak (Techna-Lingua) = 65, 1d100 ⇒ 60, test successful.

The tension in the chamber is palpable as Brother Emeric advances, heedless of the weapons trained upon his person. When his vox transmits the binary message, the Magos' blinded head swivels to fix upon him, both arms galvanized with the motion, rigidly pointing the weapons at the Black Templar. An eternity seems to pass with each and every marine in the chamber primed and ready to react to the obvious threat (albeit a misguided one) to one of their own.

Finally, Magos Vyakai's arms drop limply to his sides, and his body begins to sway erratically once again. His head, still awkwardly swiveled to face Brother Emeric, lets out a broadcast burst of binary tech cant that is followed by an imperious voice barking out in strangely inflected High Gothic from beneath his bloodied cowl.

BOOTING...

CONNECTION VERIFIED...

TRANSMITTING RESPONSE...

***PARSING PARSING PARSING***
***VRSSSSSSZZZZZZZHHHTTTTT***
***SOURCE VERIFIED FRIENDLY***

DATA BURST RECEIVED:

***COGITATING/COGITATING/COGITATING***

"Designates Deathwatch Kill-team Umbra are recognized."
"I am Magos Biologis Zardos Vyakai...{CODE INTERRUPT FAILURE}"
"I am injured and operating on emergency protocols {WARNING/WARNING} the full maintenance of consciousness is {DEV...DEV...DEVIATION} no longer possible, lead me immediately to extraction, {OMNISSIAH VULT}."
"Acknowledge compliance."
"The swarm approaches, this moon dies."
"Acknowledge compliance."
"Message repeats..."

A tightbeamed burst of binary data then pours into Brother Emeric's cogitation array, bypassing all failsafes and firewalls with the force of an Ithakan tsunami.

Great is the touch of the Machine God in Magos Zardo Vyakai, even in this weakened state.

I experience several emotions at once: relief that I am not a target for melta and infernus guns, gratitude that the Omnissiah deems me worthy of such a task, hatred for the xenos which so harmed His Holiness, and a dire urgency to complete the mission.

Obeying the Magos' dictates, I respond with a verbal message conveyed identically through binary burst:

<<Compliance acknowledged: deliver Magos Vyakai to extraction.>>
<<Compliance acknowledged: deliver encrypted message to Inquisitor Carmillus. ***PRIORITY ALPHA***>>
<<Magos Vyakai, standby for emergency Mechanicus and medical attention.>>
<<The Omnissiah watches over us all.>>

Quickly I move down the steps to the Magos.

"Now, Apothecary, let us both render immediate care! Hrothgar, steady him!"

Taking only a moment or two, Brother Sepheren will attempt a Medicae roll to provide first aid for any flesh wounds (assuming there is any flesh left to find). At the same time Emeric will do emergency repairs to close fluid leaks, cement ruptured armor, cover exposed circuitry, and the like. If the Magos loses consciousness or is unable to move, Emeric will hoist Vyakai's upper torso with his servo-arm and perhaps Hrothgar can also bear some weight for transport.

At first glance it appears that repair of the respirator unit is the Magos' most pressing need. Those mechadendrites should be secured as well. I use my electro-graft to jack into a chest-panel and access His Holiness' diagnostic array. Machine God, I pray it still works... I extend my servo and combi-tools into the body cavity.

Tech-Use (45) + Electro-Graft (10) + Combi-tool (10) = 65

1d100 ⇒ 50

Hmmm... Hoping you permit the electro-graft or combi-tool use.

"Brother-Leader! Prepare to lead us out of here! Magos and Data-Core secured!"

Hrothgar moves to assist the stricken magos.

As soon as Brothers Emeric and Hrothgar have the magos prepared for transport:

"Brothers, move out, we are going to the extraction location. Brother Vex you are to guide and watch over the guardsmen. Time is almost up, prepare to move in haste."

"Affirmative."

I keep on guard til the Kill Team is ready to move out with the Magos.

"I can help guide the Imperial Guard it is my duty after all"

Approaching the Guardsmen

"Commisar ready to move out to extraction point I shall accompany you with another brother marine, follow my lead"

"I can help guide the Imperial Guard it is my duty after all"

"Your assistance is appreciated."

Brother Emeric advances on Magos Vyakai, Brother Sepheren and Brother Hrothgar following just behind him to either side. The techmarine realizes his mistake at the last possible moment, a mere meter away from the tech-priest.

The weapons are leveled again, directly at him, and he recalls the Magos' warning, praying to the Omnissiah that he has heeded it in time to prevent a tragic end:

I am injured and operating on emergency protocols {WARNING/WARNING} the full maintenance of consciousness is {DEV...DEV...DEVIATION} no longer possible...

Of course. The sub-routines currently maintaining the Magos' continued existence are little more than a codified exemplar of an animalistic survival instinct.

He steps away, warily, backing a few paces.

With the obedience of a faithful canid, the Magos' machine-body lowers its weapons once again and moves in Brother Emeric's direction, jerkily closing the intervening distance with an identical number of leaning steps.

True worry fills the Black Templar when he realizes there is neither the time or the means to render aid to Magos Vyakai. Instead, he apprises his battle-brothers of the precautions that must be taken, and Kill-team Umbra makes for the Refinery Gatehouse with all due haste.

He prays fervently to the Omnissiah and Emperor alike that he will survive to the extraction point.

"Hold. Belay those orders."

Was his grace not in the process of shutting down when we entered? No, that already occurred. I communed with simpler, minimal programs left active.

"To save himself, the Magos entered a hibernated state. A cogitative subroutine now dictates protocol. Make for the surface and the metal carcass shall follow."

Blood of the Omnissiah... I am going to lead his Eminence, Magos Biologis Vyakai, like a puppet on a string?

"Techmarine do you serve the Emperor or the Omnissiah?" as he suspiciously looks at the Techmarine "Remember your duty and your place, you have a mission to accomplish, if he must be a puppet so he can be saved so be it, it is your duty, but I wonder to whom?"

Is this Iron Snake reading my thoughts? Is he using witchery as the Librarian? I turn and stare at this Brother who dares speak to me of duty and accomplishment.

"Any lament for the Magos only fuels my hatred for the abhorrent xenos that rendered his Grace to such a lowly state."

Should this suspicion be returned? What prompted such challenge to my integrity? *cogitating* As predicted... most likely ignorance.

"Brazen words, Decius. Question not my allegiance, especially with such a flawed premise for the Emperor and Omnissiah are simply different manifestations of the same essence."

I turn my back on the Iron Snake and continue to monitor the progress of the Magos.

Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Xi-Upsilon-06
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Refinery Gatehouse Transport Station
241.817.M41
Chrono Reading: [0:41:24]

The terse exchange with the Iron Snake serves one purpose, at least; it brings Brother Emeric back to himself enough to know that under these circumstances there is no feasible way that the ritual of repair can be conducted for the Magos' blessed corpus.

Instead he does what must be done, leading Magos Vyakai's shattered body along like a slaved servitor, while the other elements of Kill-team Umbra and Brother Decius make for the exit of the Central Control complex in a staggered vanguard formation. The silent tech-priest follows the techmarine obediently, strangely docile, responding to each of Brother Emeric's changes of direction but otherwise betraying no sign of sentience. When the Kill-team comes under attack by a small clutch of ambushing hormagaunts in the Munitorum prison command center, the machine spirit governing Magos Vyakai activates its automated defensive subroutines, slagging an ambushing hormagaunt with its infernus pistol as the xenos skulks in from the Black Templar's blind side. The remaining Tyranids are dealt with in a brief barrage of bolter fire and snarling chainswords, and the marines finally reach the vast open doors of the facility again.

Tracking across the snow-blanketed grounds, past the carnage of the of the Mag-Train line terminus, Kill-team Umbra finally reaches the tracked cargo-8, still idling in the shadow of the Gatehouse structure. Advancing through the skeleton-crew picket of the Karlack 2nd, they are met by Commissar Sander, who crunches across the promethium-stained snow to meet them, the burnished brass casing of his battered field magnoculars clutched tightly in one white-knuckled hand.

He eyes the black-iron specter that shadows Brother Emeric with some trepidation, before turning his attention to the Ultramarine and Iron Snake. When Brother Decius addresses him, he nods grimly, and then looks past the assembled marines to the southern horizon.

"It will be a race, then."

Turning, the others follow his gaze to see that with the storm now largely over, the strange twilit day of Tantalus has passed to a deeper, star-less black sky. Everywhere, that is, but the south, where the entire skyline has taken on a purple-black cast streaked with thready filaments of sickly yellow, the organic contrails of falling mycetic spores still bombarding the surface of this world. It appears as an almost impenetrable wall, that seems to visibly advance, even to the naked eye, like a roiling harbinger of doom. Carried on the chill winds, you can hear a noise with your attuned auto-senses, a godless skittering as of millions of legs and the click-clacking of as many voracious mandibles. Brother Vex is reminded of the plagues of locusts that he once knew on an agri-world long ago, the main difference being that these feasted upon entire worlds and not just the crops of a single season.

Although he truly knows no fear, Brother Syne understands the subdued expression writ across the commissar's face for what it is; a tightly controlled terror welling up inside of him at the mere thought of advancing toward such a thing. Brother Decius regards it in much the same way, heading south into the oncoming swarm of Hive Fleet Dagon would take much the same foolhardy courage that running headlong into a cresting Ithakan tsunami would.

In other words, it might well be suicide for everyone.

Alright guys, the endgame begins. What are your plans to facilitate extraction?

I suggest that we head to the highest point - the com tower should fit that criteria. Signal from our beacon shouldn't be disrupted by the Tyranids' shadow in the warp. We hail the ship and ask for a thunderhawk to pick us up. A teleport extraction will be dicey considering the tyranids' shadow. Problem with taking highest point is that we'd probably attract any nearby xenos horde but, hey, this is our endgame so we should expect nothing less. In any event, protecting the data core and the magos should be paramount. If some of us have to do some heroic sacrifice then we should not hesitate. At least that is what Hrothgar would do if he is tasked to bodyguard the magos.

Hrothgar checks his pistols to ensure that the ammo is full; it is a bad death to die for lack of ammo.

Call me Hrothgar Two Guns hehehe

"Battle Leader, what are your orders?"

If possible, entering Squad Mode / Fire for Effect

Following the prudent Space Wolf's example, I also rack a fresh clip into my bolter.

While leading the Magos, is he able to match speed? In other words, as the team moved to the surface, could the automated shell move at a jog or sprint pace? If this hypothesis has not yet been tested, I will try it now:

Once in sight of the cargo-hauler I race over to it, climb in the back and gauge how long it takes the Magos to join me.

I also attempt to raise the frigate in orbit above us via the vox-caster. After reciting a requisite litany, I transmit, "Thunder's Word come in. Thunder's Word, come in. This is Kill-Team Umbra. Are you receiving? Acknowledge."

Unsure of any modifiers but here's a tech-use roll (45): 1d100 ⇒ 54

Brother Emeric re-enters Squad Mode/Fire For Effect.

Emeric, the Magos seems to be able to easily match your speed in spite of its awkward gait and damaged systems,, at times the shell of Vyakai's body even employs its maglev capabilities to bypass obstacles or keep pace.

Test successful, Eradico, but...

The Black Templar conducts the rites of activation and enters the proper codes into the vox-caster. He successfully transmits the message, but achieves nothing but hissing static for his efforts. Even with the violence of the storm clearing, something seems to be interfering with signal. A glance at the looming purple-black horizon confirms the tech marine's worst fears. Perhaps if the Kill-team could gain some elevation...

"If high ground is the best way to get our signal out, then so shall it be. Let us be off to the communication tower."

How long did it take the Kill Team to find the Magos inside central control, and get him back to the Guardsmen position? Remembering after the Shrike combat Quintus said we had about an hour left before the main Nid force overruns our position. Trying to see if returning to the Comm Tower is a viable option before I pipe in with my opinion.

"Then let's move out, you heard the orders marines" as he darts forward signaling the Commisar to follow "I'll try to figure the best route and defensive position to wait extraction"

Recon & Stealth Tactics1d100 ⇒ 56
Defensive Tactics1d100 ⇒ 11

I listen to the vox spit out nothing but very unusual static and hissing. What is this foul xenos manifestation?

"Unable to establish orbital contact. Brother-Librarian, it appears the hive-mind interferes with our communication capabilities."

"If high ground is the best way to get our signal out, then so shall it be. Let us be off to the communication tower."

"Brother-Leader, taking the 'southern route' to the Com-Tower plateau, means flying into the teeth of the storm. A data-point of consideration, however: that route requires we pass by the Security Bunker which will provide firing cover. The twin-linked heavy-bolters there are reconfigured and online."

"That is useful, but if there is no better way, or no better location, then let us be off and use that security bunker and kill the xenos until we can be extracted."

How long did it take the Kill Team to find the Magos inside central control, and get him back to the Guardsmen position? Remembering after the Shrike combat Quintus said we had about an hour left before the main Nid force overruns our position. Trying to see if returning to the Comm Tower is a viable option before I pipe in with my opinion.

Brother Vex checks his chrono and compares it to the revised estimate that Brother Quintus gave shortly before they entered Central Control. Correlating this with his cartographic data and the Kill-team's estimated speed with the tracked hauler, it is no sure thing that they will have enough time for extraction from the Comm-Uplink Tower. There is also the added complication that Brother Emeric has not been able to contact the Thunder's Word with his vox-caster. Apparently the interference from the Tyranid host is blocking more than the Immaterium, now.

It is possible, but it will be close.

The Comm Tower is still a viable option, but poses some risk. The Kill-team's timing will have to be near perfect.

"Then let's move out, you heard the orders marines" as he darts forward signaling the Commisar to follow "I'll try to figure the best route and defensive position to wait extraction"

Recon & Stealth Tactics1d100
Defensive Tactics1d100

Defensive Tactics skill test is successful by four degrees.

Using his suit's auto-senses and the built-in ocular magnification, Brother Decius makes a slow circle, surveying the horizon in every direction. A veteran of countless gunship drops and hit-and-run raids he has a weather eye for finding suitable extraction points. With the storm largely abated now, visibility is that much better as well.

Other than the elevated mesa of ice that holds the Comm-Uplink Array, the only other geographic feature that seems feasible for Thunderhawk extraction is the steep, jagged line of crags overlooking the refinery and the triple row of the Main Promethium Compression tanks to the northeast. Their advantage is that they are closer to your current position, but there is no way that the tracked cargo-8 will be able to reach the rocky summit. There is a small overlook reachable by a zig-zagging vehicle track, but it only ascends halfway up the face of the slope. It would be a taxing climb the rest of the way.

Sorry I'm late getting this up, but I wanted you guys to know your options. These are your best, most viable choices for extraction and both have their merits and drawbacks, but I will allow the Kill-team to decide which approach they prefer before proceeding.

"Timing will be an issue regarding our egress if we attempt to set the Comm Tower as our extraction point. It will require absolute precision with no room for stragglers."

I look over with concern at the Guardsmen and the Magos.

"If Hrothgar can get Brother Emeric, or a Comm Officer to higher ground to establish a connection if would give us more of a window for extraction. While we lead the main group they could call the Thunderhawk in to our Landing Zone."

"I think we should head for the elevated mesa of ice that holds the Comm-Uplink Array, as the techmarine brother, we can have covering fire or suppressing fire from the heavy bolters" making a small pause and checking his bolter one last time "Besides we can't go away with out giving our farewell to the xenos scum"

"If Hrothgar can get Brother Emeric, or a Comm Officer to higher ground to establish a connection if would give us more of a window for extraction. While we lead the main group they could call the Thunderhawk in to our Landing Zone."

I follow the Librarian's gaze up the crags overlooking the promethium storage tanks.

"Despite his dormancy, the Magos still enjoys the Grace of the Maglev and should manage those escarpments if that is our chosen path... Unfortunately I do not possess enough data to calculate a preferable option."

I nod to both Brothers Decius and Emeric for there input. But at the end of the day it comes down to experience. Only one of us knows better at the end of the day which option is best.

"Which way Quintus?"

I glance at my chronometer knowing our time is almost out.

"Brother Hrothgar, lead Brother Emeric to the comm tower and get the message out. We will go to the extraction zone. Remember your mission, and get yourselves and the Magos to the extraction zone. Brother Decius, I know you are not with our team, but the mission is of vital impotance. I ask of you to get them safely to the comm tower, and then they and you will go to the extraction zone.

"Aye, battle-leader, consider it done."

"Let's go Brother Emeric. We need to be swift."

Hrothgar runs in the direction of the comm tower, chainsword, bolt pistol and a grin at the ready.