The nearly invisible Tyranid pulls itself up to the roof of the security bunker, its tendril-mounted flesh hooks wrapping around one of the recurved I-beams that support the dome of the structure. Before Brother Hrothgar can pan his weapon to follow, it plants both legs on the ceiling and launches itself down at him, massive, thorny claws flashing backward to impale the marine as the hormagaunts swarm around him.
The massive claw scrapes across the snarling wolf emblem and punches through Brother Hrothgar's armor near the seam with his right pauldron, ripping a deep furrow across his bicep beneath it. Just as quickly the creature yanks the blade-like limb out with an agonizing wrench of thorny nodules tearing flesh, and leaps off of the marine for the ceiling again.
1d100
I scan the surrounding territory to see if any xenos are drawing towards our position. Viewing no sign, I trot towards the uplink tower. Nearing the felled servitor, I note the mangled mess of steel, wires, motors and appendages that was once a fine Mechanicum device. Just like the rest of this planet... a damn shame. I kneel and place a gauntleted hand upon it.
"All-Knowing One, Omnissiah, with benevolence please receive the spirits of these simple machines. Forgive them for they know not what they do."
Rising, I mag-lock my bolter, draw my power sword, and move to investigate the com-tower.
For Rook
Hrothgar grits his teeth as he stifles a cry of pain. This xenos is strong. The otherworldly horror that is the lictor reduces Hrothgar's confidence in meeting this threat. Nevertheless, his enhanced form is resisting the poison that has been slipped into his being.
For Rook
Hrothgar is momentarily at a loss at the xenos' visage but he immediately recovers and strikes back at it.
"I abjure you, foul xenos!!!!"
"There is no room for you in this universe!!!!"
"For Russ and the Allfather!!!!"
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Rho-Upsilon-12
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Comm Uplink Tower
241.817.M41
Brother Emeric's Chrono Reading: [3:42:55]
Brothers Emeric and Syne reach the open entry way into the Comm Uplink tower to find Brother Caledonii just outside looking askance at the dead servitor, the automaton still standing oddly upright. The wind howls in the distance, blowing a fresh shower of plinking ice shards with it. Even the once-clear visibility on the high mount is beginning to suffer for the storm.
Moving in a staggered triangular formation with Brother Emeric at the fore, the trio of marines step past the convict bodies and the dismembered shrike into the base of the tall, narrow structure. Inside, it is largely hollow, narrowing as the heavily insulated communications tech and snaking conduit reach the pinnacle, where the more sophisticated elements of the array are ensconced. The floor around you is muddy, double-plated, durasteel deck-plating, scored in places from where the unkind footfalls of the heavy servitors have struck. A single field-grade, vox-comm cogitator service interface sits on the far side of the circular room, its pict-display winking at you with occasional static.
Brother Hrothgar grits his teeth within his helmet as the cascade of pain reductive injections and antitoxins floor his bloodstream. Exhorting his weapon, his Primarch, and the Emperor himself to put an end to the foul xenos, he fires point blank into its carapace.
The creature lets out a deafening shriek that momentarily overloads the marine's auditory receptors before leaping like a flaming felid back to the ceiling.
Brother Hrothgar smiles, for he has hurt it.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Rho-Upsilon-12
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Comm Uplink Tower
241.817.M41
Brother Emeric's Chrono Reading: [3:42:55]
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Comm Uplink Tower
A single field-grade, vox-comm cogitator service interface sits on the far side of the circular room, its pict-display winking at you with occasional static.
From the tower's entryway I emit a pulse with my auger array.
Before moving inside I view and analyze the tracked footprints on the floor. Cogitating...
"Cover me." I walk cautiously to the control panel on the far side of the room. Sheathing my chainsword, I examine the data-port interface. I open a small plate in my fore-arm armor, pull out an electro-graft cord and jack-in.
Eli carefully inserts needles into his rifle's internal magazine, then secures it once more and draws his pistol. He scans the area, alert for threats their fire may have attracted.
Having confidence that Brothers Quintus, and Sepheren can handle the hormogaunt horde. I turn my attentions to the Lictor to give aid to Brother Hrothgar.
Focus Power Smite Unfettered. (1d100=41)
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Rho-Upsilon-12
Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Comm Uplink Tower
241.817.M41
Brother Emeric's Chrono Reading: [3:41:19]
With the aid of his auger array, Brother Emeric scans the immediate area inside of the Comm Uplink tower, the powerful auspex detecting the tell-tale chemical composition of a Magos' plasma amid the other bloodstains on the floor. It is troubling to the techmarine, because the quantity posits that Magos Vyakai is gravely injured. While intently analyzing the results of his readings, he pauses, thinking he hears something from above.
Neither Brother Syne nor Brother Caledonii can make any headway with the muddled mixture of tracks, mud and blood covering the floor. The heavy, scraping footfalls from the servitors treads have erased any recognizable trails, although it is clear that booted human feet have passed through the small circular chamber in the last several hours.
Brother Syne freezes in place, raising his head to peer into the narrowing spire of the tall Comm tower. He sees no discernible movement amid the draped conduit and protruding comm-tech panels, but is nearly certain he heard the distinct sound of leathery wings fluttering from somewhere above.
Brother Emeric, already frustrated by the fact that it appears as though the vox-comm cogitator service interface has been locked out by someone with far more technical expertise than he, freezes at Syne's cautionary hand signal, helmeted head craning straight up to follow where he points.
Brother Emeric, already frustrated by the fact that it appears as though the vox-comm cogitator service interface has been locked out by someone with far more technical expertise than he, freezes at Syne's cautionary hand signal, helmeted head craning straight up to follow where he points.
Getting nothing but a looped binary lock-code, I yank the electro-link from the console. Emperor's Blood! Turning to inform my comrades of my failure, I am stopped dead at the sight of Brother Eli's warning signal. He points upward and my gaze follows. Chainsword out, my other hand falls automatically to the bolter. Shrike...
Having confidence that Brothers Quintus, and Sepheren can handle the hormogaunt horde. I turn my attentions to the Lictor to give aid to Brother Hrothgar.
Focus Power Smite Unfettered. (1d100=41)
Brother Vex turns to follow the fluid shadow that ripples and changes as it leaps from the Space Wolf's shoulders back toward the domed ceiling. Pivoting on his heel, he tracks it not just with his outstretched gauntlet, but also with his mind, seizing upon the screeching xenos' pain and fury and directing his righteous rage upon it.
The explosive blast of Warp lightning coruscates as it builds upon Brother Vex's upraised fist before finally arcing out in a triple bolt of destructive force, blowing out every pict-screen in the bunker in the process and detonating the looming lictor's carapace like a small bomb went off in its chest. Chunks of cracked chitin and foul, phlegmy ichor spray in every direction. When the stinking mist clears, all that remains of the Tyranid are the last segmented portion of its mantid-like arm, still clinging to one of the wall stanchions.
I fire my bolt pistol with hellfire rounds.
I don't even give myself the satisfaction of the kill. To do so is Pride. To have Pride is to invite temptation. Temptation leads to corruption. I simply turn to assist my brothers who are in the grips of melee.
I know Hrothgar will howl later that I stole his kill. Such is the way of the Wolf. I care not about glory. There is only duty.
With the warning I strain my senses to try to pick out where the incoming attack is.
"Inside, NOW"
Eli presses his pistol back into its holster and motions the others inside. He takes cover inside the tower's cavernous door-frame and helfs his heavy bolter for what is to come.
I know Hrothgar will howl later that I stole his kill. Such is the way of the Wolf. I care not about glory. There is only duty.
Hrothgar looks at Vex with an expression less than happy.
"Ha! That was my bloody kill! Ha!"
"You just helped!"
Sepheren draws his chainsword, slashing at the creatures surrounding him.
I know Hrothgar will howl later that I stole his kill. Such is the way of the Wolf. I care not about glory. There is only duty.
Hrothgar looks at Vex with an expression less than happy.
"Ha! That was my bloody kill! Ha!"
"You just helped!"
I smile hearing Hrothgar's words.
"In all honesty it is still your kill Hrothgar. I have every confidence in your ability. It is your trophy. I just simply sped things along. The mission is under a time constraint after all."
The things one has to say to preserve unity, and brotherhood.
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Rho-Upsilon-12
Inside the Pyroclast-Gamma-9 Security Bunker
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus' Chrono Reading: [3:41:16]
I fire my bolt pistol with hellfire rounds.
Brother Quintus draws his bolt pistol and begins blazing away at the pernicious hormagaunts swarming around him, picking them off one after another with steady, well-placed shots, culling the swarm and providing himself with room to back away deeper into the bunker.
The score or so of Tyranid vanguard organisms that remain from the overwhelming assault now leap and slash at the Battle Brothers, scampering under the security console, running up curving walls, and otherwise still pressing their unrelenting attack despite their considerably depleted numbers.
Clusters of the scuttling predators latch on to Brothers Sepheren and Hrothgar, but the thickness of their powered armor protects them from harm. Arms flailing and legs kicking, they shake the majority of the xenos off, pressing their own attack.
Sepheren draws his chainsword, slashing at the creatures surrounding him.
1d100;1d10+3;1d10+3
Brother Sepheren slashes and cuts at the shrieking monstrosities, sending a few of those that clung to Brother Hrothgar to their deaths, but is limited in the damage he can inflict when the edge of his chainsword becomes lodged in the thorny carapace of one of the xenos for a moment.
Even though it feels funny in my hands I swing my Force Sword with deadly efficiency hacking into the hormogaunts again, and again. Not since my time on Solace have I cut down an enemy in melee...
EDIT:
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Rho-Upsilon-12
Inside the Comm Uplink Tower
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus' Chrono Reading: [3:41:10]
"Inside, NOW"
Eli presses his pistol back into its holster and motions the others inside. He takes cover inside the tower's cavernous door-frame and helts his heavy bolter for what is to come.
At first, Brother Syne believes the sound is coming from inside at the tower, but on further observation, he realizes that the many chinks and gaps in the structure's plating allow shadows from outside to bleed through from without, the sounds echoing in the hollow spire.
Shouldering his heavy bolter, he edges back from the entrance, but not before he and Brother Caledonii both observe the dark outlines of several large, winged forms perched gargoyle-like upon the extended antennae array high above near the pinnacle of the tower. The whispered flutter of leathery wings continues as the recently arrived shrikes adjust their positions, their spine-encrusted heads turned toward the main refinery complex.
You can still hear the reverberations of bolter fire from the sub-arctic valley below, and apparently so can the xenos above you.
Even though it feels funny in my hands I swing my Force Sword with deadly efficiency hacking into the hormogaunts again, and again. Not since my time on Solace have I cut down an enemy in melee...
Brother Vex raises his force sword and begins to hew his way through the Tyranid swarm to close and form tighter ranks with his fellow Battle-Brothers.
Although only a handful of the slavering xenos remain after the Librarian cuts a bloody path through them, those that survive redouble their efforts, leaping from the floor and walls in a voracious attack born of their hive-mind instincts.
You can still hear the reverberations of bolter fire from the sub-arctic valley below, and apparently so can the xenos above you.
I take one more look at the communication console, breaking open a panel and looking into the array's interior. I am dismayed because I could not discern Magos Vyakai's binary transmission while aboard the Trebuchet. I kneel and draw a data shunt from the base of my neck, quickly attempting to completely bypass the the control panel and hardwire my cranial cortex directly into the transmission cogitator.
While rewiring circuitry, a warning klaxon buzzes from the console. Throne! It only lasts a second before I put a fist-sized hole through the dash containing the speaker. I bead my battle-brothers, "Hold them off. There is still something to learn here." I connect the shunt and dive in.
"Now is not the time. If we are spotted extraction will become much more difficult."
Eli conceals himself in the tower's creeping shadows.
Hrothgar's boltpistol spews explosive death at the tyranids.
"Now is not the time. If we are spotted extraction will become much more difficult."
Eli conceals himself in the tower's creeping shadows.
1d100
2d10+5 2d10+5
Hrothgar's boltpistol spews explosive death at the tyranids.
As Brother Sepheren hacks and saws through the scampering hormagaunts still clinging to his allies with his chainsword, Brother Hrothgar strides forward, levels his bolt pistol, and eradicates the rest of vermin scurrying about. When all is said and done, Kill-team Umbra finds itself surrounded by scores of the dead creatures, each step taken around the bunker doorway resulting in the marines crushing the crisply burnt or eviscerated carcasses of the hormagaunts under their treads.
Removing his helmet, Brother Hrothgar sniffs deeply of the promethium-stinking air and surveys the devastation. Approaching the fallen lictor's decapitated head, he nudges it with his armored boot, scanning the ceiling and the meter-wide hole burrowed through the deck-plated floor of the security bunker. On closer examination, it seems the lictor must have been waiting in the tunnel bored through the almost rock-hard tundra underneath. It becomes readily apparent how the Munitorum enforcers sealed inside the bunker were slaughtered.
There is no sign of any other xenos within, but the tunnel must terminate outside somewhere. It drops about two meters before turning sharply to the east.
I take one more look at the communication console, breaking open a panel and looking into the array's interior. I am dismayed because I could not discern Magos Vyakai's binary transmission while aboard the Trebuchet. I kneel and draw a data shunt from the base of my neck, quickly attempting to completely bypass the the control panel and hardwire my cranial cortex directly into the transmission cogitator.
d100 = 5
While rewiring circuitry, a warning klaxon buzzes from the console. Throne! It only lasts a second before I put a fist-sized hole through the dash containing the speaker. I bead my battle-brothers, "Hold them off. There is still something to learn here." I connect the shunt and dive in.
Just prior to Brother Syne's warning, the techmarine had extended his gauntlet mounted combi-tool to access the direct input with his data shunt. Finding the stream of binary data still locked to him, he injects sacred decryption streams in an attempt to bypass the security algorithms in place. Just as he assumes he will have as little success as before, the security system seems to recognize his Mechanicus cant and abruptly allows access. Cogitating his way through the existing recurring message broadcasting from the tower put in place by Magos Vyakai, he extracts the relevant time-stamps and protocols used, and finds the obfuscated binary message embedded to run between the repeating transmission. Extracting that as well, he secures the heavily encrypted message in his in-built cranial data storage for later examination. Just as he finishes the task a beeping warning klaxon goes off, the cogitator panel notifying of an impending disconnect. The techmarine silences it almost immediately, but he cranes his head upward just the same, trying to remain perfectly still.
d100
Tantalus Sub-Arctic Zone, Grid Zone Rho-Upsilon-12
Inside the Comm Uplink Tower
241.817.M41
Brother Quintus' Chrono Reading: [3:41:10]
I start fading back into the shadows when the unexpected klaxon sounds causing me to bump against the side of the door way.
Eli motions his battle-brothers towards cover.
Eli motions his battle-brothers towards cover.
I creep a few steps to the nearest wall where a data-core stack was overturned and hunker beneath some loose cables and wires so as to be less visible from above.
Hrothgar takes the lictor's head as a trophy. He looks at the others saying, "This may provide vital information."
While Hrothgar takes his prize, and quickly enter some notes into my data slate and put it away.
"So do we go down the hole, or rejoin the others."
I scan the room looking for any sign that it was human design, and not Xenos that opened up the security doors.
"The tyranids have picked up our scent. The bulk of their forces should be here soon. We need to find this magos. I doubt he would be down the hole. And if he is then he might be in more than one piece."
"Perhaps now is a good time to throw the bones and see what the future holds, Dark Angel, don't you agree?"
Hrothgar looks at his armor and starts to apply repair cement on the damage.