The servitors immediately stop their advance, halting as if statues. Kill-safe protocol accepted, please identify life forms. The harmonic machine voices slowly repeat the commands.
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The servitors continue their lumbering advance. Their whine of their armaments and the steady clod of the metallic limbs resounds of the industrial walls.
The Blood Angel's pack fires righting him from the free fall in complete darkness. Rising through the black, you land upon the opening to the level of your brothers. From what you can tell, nothing else remains amongst the living in the bay
Solar's booming vox echoes throughout the bay, however the commands of the Deathwatch Marines have no effect upon the broken machines. Now once again within charge range the machines continue their advance. Defense protocols activated! Defense protocols activated!
The keen analytical skills of the Astartes and the advanced sensor arrays of their power armor has picked up on the internal respirator and neural clusters.
From the massed pile of Tyranid bodies arises another Servitor. This one appears to be armed similar to the first, with drills, servo-claws, grinders, and saw blades. As it approaches, the machine joins the other servitor's mantra,"Defense protocols activated'. "Stand down in the name of the Emperor's Angels of the Deathwatch! Magos, if you are there we have come to retrieve you from this doomed planet." The living machines are unmoved by the Astartes commands. They continue advancing with their improvised weapons.
Solar, N'keln, and Cadmus:
As you round the corner into the bay, you stand mere meters away from a pack of industrial servitors. With slow jerking movements the great metal hulks turn and face you. The machines digitized voices continue to state and restate,Defense protocols activated. Raziel:
As you make the slow ascent up the shaft, you realize you are alone in the shadows. The scaffolding and lattice begin to deteriorate making climbing more difficult.
The interior of the shaft is typical of Imperial industrial construction. It is a lattice work of bolted and welded metal. Though the wear and tear of constant use has made some of the holds look subpar, for the most part it should be an easy climb. As you finish your inspection, a very distinct series of sounds is picked up by your heightened senses. The raw thud of metal walking across the floor, and the tell tale signs of whirring servos.
The super human strength from the Blood Angel separates the plasteel door. Staring into the gaping maw of the lift you notice that there is at least a level above as well as one below. During your search you notice a large number of Gaunt corpses laying in small pile near the end of the hall. Upon closer inspection you can see that body were torn apart from what looks like shear strength.
As you begin to move down the hall, everything seems to be same as with anywhere else throughout the facility. Death, carnage, and mayhem everywhere your eyes pass over. You approach the first intersection with two doors side by side. The door to the right is actually two doors large enough to fit most of the refinement haulers through. The second is more of a man sized door. Upon closer inspection, you realize these are turbo lifts. However the control panel seems to be damaged. Cadmus:
Reaching into the Immaterium, your mind is suddenly assaulted by images of time past. The hundreds of workers whose lives were snuffed out by shadows in the dark. You begin to relive each and everyone as the initial attack from the hordes takes place.
The great double doors slide across their rails as they retract back into the walls. On the opposite side of the door lies a long hallway wide enough for three Marines to stand abreast. The hall stretches a great distance roughly ranged at around 300m. Halfway down the stretch is another set of double doors, however on the right toward the end is another turn.
The remnants of the molten horde shudder and shriek back into the shadows fleeing the onslaught from the Marines. Leaving the Marines on edge in the darkness once again. The only remaining light from the smoldering bodies of the gaunts.
The stench of promethium and scorched flesh fill the air. Rising up like a great wave the Horde comes again.
A swath of living ammunition flies through the air and splashes against your ceramite forms. Pen 3 Pen 3
The horde of mouths scream in fury and terror. Their brood mates becoming teaming piles of ash and chitin. Enraged that the swarm be attacked, the beasts open with their own volley.
Flesh boring beetles tear through the air toward you. Smashing into your armor the parasite begin attempting to pierce through. Pen 3 Pen 3
Lanius, you're up!
The two Assault Marines finish clearing through the rest of the platform without further incident or encounter. Meeting up with the rest of the team, you bound tactically to cross the open area separating the platform and the gate house to the refinery. The wide hangar doors of the refinery complex's gatehouse hangs open like a broken maw, leading to the darkness of the transportation sheds within. The place seems deserted and abandoned, with debris and old adept-scribed printouts thrashing around it in the chill wind, the papers scattered in the panic of a fearful flight. Of the cargo haulers and other vehicles that were housed here, there is no sign save for the track rutted earth.
He rubs the charm between his thumb and forefinger. Looking up at you he repliesIt keeps us from harm, Lord. We were all granted them to work around the Servitors.
As you convince the pre-aged Adept to hurry toward the entrenched Guardsmen, you notice a small silver charm dangling around his neck. It is similar to many worn by members of the Munitorum that you have seen throughout your career. This one seems to be different somehow. Asking him to inspect it closer you noticed there is a button underneath. He mutters babble, you do manage to make out the words servitor and security.
The man begins to count on his fingers and then in the sky. He turns, counts you. You can tell that the man's mind is broken. He switches over to a very broken from of High Gothic to answer I have been hiding in His shadow for five days. Three more than the screams of the south. Two nights ago... Great Wings!!! Flap! Flap! Flap!! They hunt in the dark... Always hungry... Always searching. Screams! Always screams! Then it's quiet as a grave. But I hid! I prayed! Slumping back to the floor, he wraps what's left of his robes around himself muttering unintelligibly. As if struck by lightning, he immediately stands and bows elaborately to you. I am Adept-minoris Hallis my Lords! He tilts his head at your report. Magos? What Magos? One of the Omnissiah's chosen is here?! We must save him Lords! Brother Solar: My Lord, it is only a small probing claw of the beasts. They becoming frequent however. We can hold the high ground for now.
Out of the darkened doorway rushes a gaunt, stricken, prematurely aged man. With watery eyes and skin nearing grey, his threadbare robes barely cover his frame. The waif of a man throws himself at the feet of the Marines. He begins to weep and beg. Please do not purge me, Great Masters. I have prayed to the God-Emperor for his saving grace. He has answered my prayers and sent you as salvation. He truly protects!
Assault Marines:
One of the doors behind you opens with a barely audible whisper. Due to your enhanced physiology and the autosenses built within your armor, you easily pick up the noise. The distant sound of las fire snap and the thud of a heavy echo in the distance.
The remnants of the Hormagaunts rise up in one final push against the marines. Screeching and snarling in fury they attack
[i[Between the gore slicked floor and the dying remains of other Gaunts the rushed attack goes wild. Missing the marines and spilling into the corridor. [/i]
Raziel: As you enter the darkness and gloom of the Station you can see that it is mostly open. A wide lobby runs East and West, the length of the structure. The problem now is all of the small rooms that branch off. Looking left, there are four doors. One on the North side of the platform, two on the South, and one leading outside to the west. You turn your head to East there are only two doors, one leading outside and the other on the south side.
Both Marines land with a simultaneous thud, the Raven roosting in the rafters and the Sanguine on the ground prepared for combat. Through your auto senses and modified hearing you pick up that skittering of claws across the hardened floor of the station.
Aye, Lord, we shall. Be advised that we cannot see into the platform itself. Once you have entered the building our fires will be masked.
Cadmus: As your mind stretches across the waves of the dark, there appears to static throughout the structure. There are intermittent open path ways, however much of the shadow seems to condensing on a singular point of light. An entity distinct in the darkness.
Alright Cadmus, looks like you're good to post. I'm going to play it as that Logan (Space Wolf Rune Priest) never really took part, and that you have been in the background the whole time. Now everyone, what is the current plan? Check out life sign in building 2 or continue on to 8/9?
You look to the north taking in an area of rough but open ground. The terrain seems to level of considerably. Two parallel hundred metre-long ferrocrete loading platforms surmount rough sidings of piled earth and compacted rock either side of raised industrial mag-rail, running east to west. Emergency lighting flickers in a squat station-post at the far end of the opposite platform. The auspex pings to life. It begins to send out scanning waves, tracking the area and terrain around you. As you direct its focus toward the Mag-train Siding, life signs flicker in and out of the waves. There is however one life form unmoving, hidden away from all others.
That would be 8/9. 8 being the gatehouse/transport station into 9
Alright key is up. So far buildings 1,4, and 6 have been cleared or secured. The guardsmen are enroute to clear and hold the area around building 5 for possible extraction. So what is your net course of action? Remember there is a timer counting down to Nidocolypse
Between Brother Calculus' strength, his servo-arm, and N'keln's assistance the tire slides back into position on the Land Hauler. Minor level maintenance and a quick turn of tools fixes the hauler back to working order. The remaining members of the Imperial Guard company load the cargo hold and set up security positions along its edges.We will hold the high ground as long as you need Lords, may the Emperor smile upon your mission. Without waiting for an answer, the Commissar jumps aboard and rolls out.
Brother Calculus's knowledge proves true. The Son of the Gorgon begins to fix the Land Crawler. The task only takes a short time, the final task would be to put the remaining tire back on.
The heavy weapons team approaches Brother Solar. Sir, we've been looking around the terrain around this area, and we think that hill top over yonder with the bunk atop would be a decent extraction point. With your permission, we'd like to set up there with a small attachment.
Screams pierce the silence and light flashes amidst the gloom of the dying day. The sharp crack of las fire echoes from the storage containers east of the of the barracks. As the gun fire dies down, the remnants of a team of guardsmen limp back toward the main body of troops. One of the troops say that the commotion came from an ambush set by the previous scatter Hormagaunt horde.
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