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Your Kill-Team has been summoned. The prospect of a new mission and the chance to smite the Emperor’s enemies brighten your mood.
You enter the briefing room and notice your comrade-in-arms.
You take a seat and prepare to absorb all the information that will be given.
Inquisitor Burke of the Ordo Xenos nods in your direction. “The following transmission was sent by Inquisitor Kalistradi.”
You see the image of a handsome woman of indeterminate age.
“Avalos has all the signs of infestation, and like so many of these
backwater worlds the local authority has been ineffective in
either identifying or dealing with the threat. I will conduct an
investigation into the extent of the infestation, but it is my
recommendation that Avalos be purged, lest it lead to the spread of
Hive Fleet Dagon closer to the Well of Night.”
“Send the Deathwatch.”
The transmission ends.
Inquisitor Burke continues, “I have examined the evidence and I concur. Prepare your wargear. You will go to Avalos.”
Brother Sepheren nods at his comrades, his almost-white hair contrasting with his red and black armor.
"Can we receive a tactical view of the planet? We need to determine the best point of insertion."
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Inquisitor Burke assumes a professorial air as he lectures on Avalos.
"Avalos rests on the edge of the Orpheus
Salient between Hethgard and the Well of Night, all within
the environs of the Galactic Eastern Fringe. An Agri-world, it
is almost entirely given over to the production of food crops
and domesticated animals, shipping vast supplies off world
(mostly to feed the soldiers of nearby Achilus Crusade).
The majority of the world’s surface is a sparsely populated
network of farms and orchards, mills and ranches. These
are connected by a vast collection of roads, rail lines, and
shipping lanes, all feeding to the world’s only major city and
its only spaceport: Lordsholm. Resting on the edge of the
world’s great southern continent, the city is home to the bulk
of the planet’s population and is the seat of its government,
the home of its PDF garrison, and its connection to the
greater Imperium."
I nod to my battle brothers as I enter the room. As it is a time of council, and not war. I take my seat in the red monkish robes of my order. My dark eyes are like a storm building. Ready to deliver the emperor's wrath in an instant. My voice is soft, but resounds like thunder.
"Do you have a tactical overlay of where the xenos are reported have taken place?"
"Has any imperial shipping gone missing after leaving Avalos space port?"
I pull back my hood, revealing my chestnut brown hair. I cross my arms as I await a response.
Venris has dark skin, brown hair, and grey eyes.
"I agree, what tactical information do we have? Do we we know where at least the initial infestation occurred?"
Brother-Captain Gregor folds the gold-leaf page on the weathered copy of the Tactic Imperialis he sits studying, and secures the weighty tome in his lap using hands scarred with white traceries from countless wounds incurred in bloody battle. He sits stoically, allowing his battle-brothers the opportunities to ask their questions first, relishing their astute observations and incisive queries of Inquisitor Burke. He has trained them well, and his pride is evident. The thin slash of his mouth, pursed pensively at the mention of the horrid xenos he knows they will soon face is lifted slightly into a thin fissure of a smile at the prospect of his kill-team having another opportunity to prove itself.
Folding his thick arms across the chest of the plain black bodyglove molded to his chiseled form, he places one hand superstitiously over the shield and lightning bolt sigil embossed upon it. While covering the symbol of his chapter, the Storm Wardens, he intones a quiet prayer to Saint Drusus, all the while keeping his flinty grey eyes on the proceedings, his perpetual scowl now returned unbidden to his face like a storm cloud crossing over wan-lit sun of his momentary grin. As is custom, he awaits the last of his kill-team, Brother Elyas' turn to speak before taking his own, closely scrutinizing all of his brother marine's interrogatives while allowing them the chance to have their say. For the most part, he was one to lead by example, a quiet and introspective man who strove always to grant his subordinates the chance to learn and grow, be it in briefings, battle-training, or tactical instruction. His calm, ordered, and brooding demeanor, only punctuated by fierceness in battle and righteous anger when provoked, had given him the sobriquet 'Thunderhead' among the other members of the Deathwatch, an appellation that he despised, but described him to perfection.
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"The information forwarded to us by Inquisitor Kalistrade suggests that the xenos used a space hulk to travel to the planet."
"The space port as of the time of the report remains free of any xenos presence."
"On the other hand, it is very much apparent that the xenos will be hiding out in the planet's only major city. First because the mass of humanity will hide it. And second, the same mass provides the xenos with fresh bio-matter to use to build up its horde."
For Brother Gregor
Noting Brother Elyas pointed silence, but confident it shows the quiet marine truly has nothing further to add, rather than aloof indifference, Brother-Captain Gregor deems it time to address Inquisitor Burke himself. When he speaks, his voice is a hoarse, sibilant hiss, but no less powerful for the lingering effects of pharyngeal injuries he sustained when exposed to the toxic atmosphere of Braddock's World so long ago.
"Honorable Inquisitor Burke, let me begin by thanking you for the honor of allowing this task to fall to us."
"We will validate your decision and succeed in our mission for the greater glory of the Imperium and the God Emperor, or perish in the effort."
He considers what the others have already asked before choosing his own interrogatives.
"What is the current disposition of Imperial forces planetside and in Lordsholm? Are there presently any elements of the Imperial Adeptus planetside that are aware of the taint, and if so, what intelligence, if any, will they be able to furnish?"
He pauses, making eye contact with each of his brethren, verifying that all are invested in the tactical briefing.
"Does Inquisitor Kalistrade know the present location of the hulk that ferried the vile xenos to Avalos? Has it been quarantined or purged since the discovery of the taint?"
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He considers what the others have already asked before choosing his own interrogatives."What is the current disposition of Imperial forces planetside and in Lordsholm? Are there presently any elements of the Imperial Adeptus planetside that are aware of the taint, and if so, what intelligence, if any, will they be able to furnish?"
He pauses, making eye contact with each of his brethren, verifying that all are invested in the tactical briefing.
"Does Inquisitor Kalistrade know the present location of the hulk that ferried the vile xenos to Avalos? Has it been quarantined or purged since the discovery of the taint?"
"The planet is guarded by a substantial PDF; while the Arbites maintains a nominal presence. A number of nobles on planet do maintain substantial bodyguards."
"Inquisitor Kalistrade did not inform the local ordos for fear of how far the taint may have spread on the planet."
"As of her latest missive, she informs us that she is scouring the planet's only city for the tyranid broodlord."
"I fear that her warband may not be enough to overcome the threat should they find it."
"Data on the the city will be uploaded to your data slates in a moment."
I listen intently to our captain and the Holy Inquisitor. Gathering the information mentally, so I can make better decisions when we fight the vile xenos. When the data-slates are uploaded, I will study the information.
Brother Gregor poses the obvious question:
"You have made clear that Inquisitor Kalistrade was investigating further with her retinue. Has there been any contact since her last transmission? Is her warband in danger?"
"We must move quickly to assist Inquisitor Kalistrade. She can update us once we set foot on Avalos."
"The only way we can gain the information we need is to go planetside on Avalos and find out."
"Sadly, you seem to be right Brother Venris. I trust we all are familiar with urban combat?"
True to his detail-oriented nature and desire to have every tactical advantage possible for his kill-team, Brother Gregor poses another question to Burke.
"Was Inquisitor Kalistrade able to provide an assessment of the extent of the planetary assimilation by the tyranid infestation to this point?"
Brother Gregor looks around at his battle-brothers as they digest the rest of the briefing, proud of their attention to detail and failure to show any trepidation as the scope of what they are about to face is made clear to them.
As Inquisitor Burke concludes his briefing, asking if there any further questions, the scarred Brother-Captain nods in assent.
When he speaks, his hissing voice is flat, emotionless, and to the point.
"Yes. One."
"When can we begin exterminating our foe?"
Brother-Captain Gregor nods in satisfaction.
"Then, Inquisitor Burke, if this briefing is concluded, my kill-team will adjourn to the armory to make ready for departure. As you no doubt understand, my marines are eager to begin the Emperor's holy work."
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The vagaries of the warp notwithstanding the Righteous Indignation made good time traveling to Avalos.
During that time, you and your fellow Space Marines were secluded from the rest of the crew with the exception of its captain, your only contact.
The ship's captain, a righteous man by the name of Galrite Haltreme, keeps you updated of the ship's progress.
You arrive in system and you have been asked by the captain to come over to the bridge.
Brother Sepheren enters the bridge. "What do you wish to speak about, Haltreme?"
With methodical care I don the armour of my chapter. Silver, and black covered with robes of red cloth. Only with the reverance of one who has carried the same equipment over a thousand battles I attach the final pieces of as if they were extensions of myself; the jump pack, the combat knife, the bolt pistol, and the power fist. The time for meditation is over. Now there is only war.
I stand up waiting for the others to ready themselves so we may speak with the captian. "Are you ready brothers?"
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Brother Sepheren enters the bridge. "What do you wish to speak about, Haltreme?"
"Oh, yes, um, shortly after arriving in system, we conducted our transit to Avalos. However, preliminary scans show dust and silence."
"I have tried to hail Imperial authorities, using priority codes, of course, but there is no reply."
White noise burst from the vox to punctuate the captain's declaration.
"What do you make of it?"
"It looks like our plan to go planetside for the information we need, has increased in its urgency."
I also will be in my full armor, except for my helmet, which I am carrying under my arm.
Brother-Captain Gregor remains coldly calm, listening to the white noise growling from the communications console, realizing there is no hope now for the people of Lordsholm. His face still an impassive mask, he turns slowly to the captain.
"What do the auspex readings tell us?"
"Can these anomalies be resolved further, ensign?"
Gregor leans forward to examine the auspex display himself.
"Are they craft of some kind?"
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"Can these anomalies be resolved further, ensign?"
Gregor leans forward to examine the auspex display himself.
"Are they craft of some kind?"
Minutes pass, as the ship's crew focus all their energy to comply with your directive.
"Tyranids! They're here!" exclaims one ensign, his fear infecting those around him.
"Quiet on the deck!"
"Battle stations!"
The captain, his face resolute, "We shall get you to Avalos, lord. No matter what."
Brother-Captain Gregor barely reacts to the terrifying revelation, merely calculating the potential threat of the tyranid presence.
"Captain, have our lander readied immediately, it is imperative we are planet-side at the earliest opportunity."
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You and your battle-brothers rush to the waiting drop pod.
Back at the bridge the changing tactical situation is turning for the worse. Two more tyranid bio ships have been detected and the Righteous Indignation is now seriously outgunned.
The captain, a veteran of countless engagements, realizes that this is the end of the road for him. "Ensign, send astropathic message to base. Tell them: the tyranids are here."
"Aye sir."
"Charge up the lance batteries! We'll take as many as we can!"
"Only in death does duty end!"
As Brother Elyas embarks into the Drop Pod. I finish overseeing that our supplies were all loaded and stowed securely.
As we enter the drop pod, I ritualisticly start quoting the articles of faith from the codex astartes.
Brother Sepheren quietly prays over his heavy bolter as the drop pod doors seal behind him.
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Outside the Righteous Indignation can be seen performing a maneuver called crossing the t. It blasted 2 tyranid bioship with full broadsides obliterating them. But acid orb blasts from the tyranid ships overwhelmed the void shields momentarily and are slowly eating away at the armored decks.
You feel the ship shudder. The rocking intensifies.
Two more tyranid bioships move to engage the strike frigate. They unleash organic versions of missiles punching the hull of the ship.
"We are now making for the planet," the calm voice of the captain at odds with the violent shaking of the vessel, "it will be a rough ride."
As Venris completes his recitation of the articles of faith, Brother-Captain Gregor claps him on the shoulder and makes eyes contact with each of the other marines before donning his helmet.
"We go forward now under the auspices of the Golden Throne. Stand true battle-brothers, for soon we will have our chance to bring the Emperor's fury to our foe. It has been left to us. Mourn them, but know: their lives and noble service will be avenged."
Gregor straps himself in.
"The Emperor Protects!"
"The Emperor protects!"
I put on my Helmet, and do the rituals over my weapons as is proper.
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The captain's voice pierces through the shaking of the ship as he somberly pronounces, "We have done all that we can. The Emperor go with you. It has been an honor."
The drop pod is forcefully ejected out of the frigate. G forces tug at you, pulling you tight against the walls of the pod.
Through a small window you see the final moments of the Righteous Indignation and of her crew. More tyranid ships appear bombarding the ship with acid-borer shots. The return fire from the Righteous Indignation' lance batteries pierces a tyranid ship that failed to move away. The tremendous energies of the lance bolt cutting through the carapace plates of the ship like a hot knife through butter.
But such valiant efforts are not enough to stop the inevitable.
The void shield collapses and her armored hull melts, as the Righteous Indignation surrenders at last to oblivion. The resulting explosion as its plasma reactors unleash their energies blinds you and takes out several tyranid ships too close to the blast.
You hurtle to Avalos' atmosphere and the retro rockets are now firing to slow your descent. Ten seconds after that a mechanical voice announces, "Brace for impact in 10, 9, 8, .... 2, 1."