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Deathwatch Reborn:- Opening Shots

Started by Necris, October 02, 2009, 09:42:43 AM

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Necris

#15
Demos stood alone he would have it no other way Rigal had been dismissed to the observation deck he'd also sent the Deathwatch serfs and servitors from the bay so that he alone occupied it a lone figure standing awaiting his new command, he would greet them alone as an equal, pulling his helm from his waist he slid it onto his head waited for the seals to snap shut and the visuals to come to life, with a thought he activated the magnetic clamps in the soles of his power armoured boots.

"You may open the bays Rigal."

He watched his display as it recorded the air being drawn from the bay and the pressure dropped, the temperature fell away as the outer bulkheads opened then the inner ones slid open slowly exposing the universe beyond to him, his enhanced eyes picked out the wing of Thunderhawks, five in total no doubt bringing supplies and equipment, vehicles and munitions along with his new task force.

"Blood will Flow."

His vox crackled to life

"What?"

"Nothing just incanting my chapters rites of war, I must have left the vox link on."

He killed the link and uttered the rite of war to himself as the Thunderhawks made their final approach. As the lights dimmed his looked over his own armour a variation from standard, the right arm was the colour of bleached bone the rim of the silver pauldron the same bone colour only the field of the shoulder guard was silver bearing the Deathwatch badge, the other guard bore the Crimson field of his Chapter a white winged sword caked in the blood of the Emperors enemies he flexed the bone white powerfist and rested his other hand on the hilt of his bolt pistol, he'd left Matthias in the armoury tending to his blessed bolter, as the Thunderhawks slowed to land he pulled up the records of the new force once again several names came to light some he knew but the majority he didn't, he dismissed the files instead opening a missive from the Inquisitor he read the words carefully then dismissed that too as the first of the Thunderhawks touched down, even in his armour he would feel the heat from the exhaust washes sweep over him as the others touched down the bay was filled with the exhaust wash which drifted slowly into space, when the bulkheads rolled back into position the boarding ramps slid open. Disgorging the marines within sending a confirmation to the deck crew he watched as his new command filed out forming in a perfect line before him, he offered a glance to his left as the deck crew moved in to carry out their work. A collection of tech adepts following an imposing Techmarine moved to the Thunderhawk marked as Delta they were met by five marines in Quartered Crimson and Bone Power armour bearing the same chapter markings as his own, a Techmarine in matching heraldry strode out before them greeting his counterpart and allowing the tech adepts to start unloading the cargo contained within, his attention turned back to the marines before him as he reached out and pulled his helm from his head, his eyes fell upon certain ones, he offered Hunrik a nod and Corvin one too he knew of the fabled Captain they had even served on the same crusade together though they'd never met he was glad to have the Ultramarine as his second.

"Welcome to the Xenos Bane, I am Captain Demos, I see that some of you are new to the Deathwatch, some of you however are not, I trust that those of you who have served before will assist your brothers in their transition into the Watch. A full briefing in the armoury will commence in one hour, get your affects in order. I must greet our final force member"

He turned and walked towards the tech adepts as the set heavy cradle down upon the deck, The Deathwatch  techmarine stepped from round the cradle a dataslate one of his bionic hands, Brother Cabel was of the Iron Hands and Demos was happy that none other than his own Chapter was better suited to the task he'd appointed him.  

"Brother Cabel what is the status of our revered brother?"

"The rites of slumber have been maintained through transit, he sleeps and dreams of glory days long past."

"That I knew him in life I am envious of his reliving of past glory days."

"I am sure he would share the feeling towards your deeps First Captain."

His attention slid to his brother marines their sergeant stepping from them as the Techmarines continued their work.

"Fulman, I am surprised they could task you with such a duty."

"Bringing Old Sirus to the watch on your request, how could I possibly refuse?"

He bit back a question that bubbled to his throat now was not the time to be dwelling on the Chapters misfortune he simply clapped Fulman's shoulder.

"Kalen was not best pleased, Sirus has been restless of late."

"Good I have need of the Old Man."

They parted as Karras stepped up, Karras had become somewhat of a pariah in the chapter of Clan Strato he was one of the few that remained loyal and as Master of the Forge was respected in title but shunned by his brothers, Demos steppe up to him taking his arm in a warriors embrace and clapping his shoulder the distrust his brothers shared did not reside in him.

"I thank you brother for bearing our beloved brother to us."

"An honour I assure you brother and my thanks."

Demos knew what the thanks were for he simply smiled and gestured at Sirus.

"He has yet to be given the black?"

"No I thought it would be more fitting should he receive it from yourself."

"Again you have my thanks brother."

"Your new command seems intrigued."  

He looked back at the marines as they started to disarray many stood observing the exchange watching as the Dreadnaught was unloaded before them, some Demos noted bowing their heads in respect for such a venerated warrior, he nodded to Karras and turned stalking towards them flexing the powerfist as he approached them.

"Brother Sirus is of my chapter, he should prove useful in the coming mission."

He turned one last time watching as Sirus was born away Karras following while Fulman and the others remained in the bay, once in situ Karras would return to the chapter with the other's Sirus' care being placed in the worthy hands of Cabel, as his attention returned to the marines he spoke again.

"Briefing one hour move! Captain Corvin, Brother Hunrik if I may."
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Inquisitor Ranovack

Peleus raised his head and wondered'

" where do we leave our kit, also where's the food i'm famashed."

At this he looked around for any signs of the answers then started off presuming the lay out was at least similar to that of the Regius Leo.
though i fly through the valley of death i shall fear no evil for i am at 50,000 feet and climing

Hedgewise

Kravan had remained silent throughout the idle chatter of the other Astartes during their Tunderhawk transfer and their disembarkation onto the Xenos Bane, through he acknowledged the Ancient as he was retrieved from his transport.

Kraven moved with the others into the lower decks of the Xenos Bane until the Kill-Teams cells came into view and claimed one for his own. Once within his home for the next few years Kraven stowed away his weapons and then readied himself for the briefing ahead, checking his armour was painted correctly and his chapter symbol was clear before checking the Deathwatch icon on his other shoulder pad, one he had worn since his last tour ended, was alright.

Kallidor

Laran watched his fellow Astartes walk away. The idle chatter had been interesting and told him a lot about those he would be expected to call Brother. Those who had served with this, Deathwatch, already, had tried to impress a sense of authority on to those who had not and even on to each other. It was the beginnings of a proto-hierarchy within the squad with the newest naturally wanting to proove themselves and establish their own position within that hierarchy. If they had been Prophets they wouldn't have bothered, as soon as you believed you needed to proove your place you had already lost it.

He had two choices now; join the squad or remain here, waiting for the briefing. He would alienate himself perhaps, certainly he didn't consider it would be a move the others would like. They would start to question his motives, whether he could be counted on, they would make a barrier between themselves and him, it would cause trouble in the future and the Captain would strain to keep the squad together, overall efficiency would fall, the mission would be jeopardised.

He un-shouldered Kah'Brosh; instrument, relic, icon, weapon. It swung round on a strap of leathery skin, gnarled with age and the barrel of the weapon naturally pointed at the receeding backs of his, 'Brothers'. He connected himself to it via a set of armoured cables and manipulated the barrel which began to rearrange internally. He struck a chord which hummed out quietly at an acceptable level and began to play, following the others.

As he played he recalled some foggy memory. A black armoured figure stood on a crumbling rock that jutted out like an ork jaw. He was there, and so were many others, all like himself. Their eyes were focussed on the figure, 'Brother will deliver up Brother to death' he said and the mass of warriors cheered. It was such a hazy memory it seemed like a dream, a dream of murder. He watched his new comrades as he followed them slowly and a smile crept across his face.
Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Swarbie

#19
Artos strode into his quarters and looked around. The room was relatively small, with a bed and small shrine in one corner.

As he was going to be here for a while, he thought that he might as well personalise it slightly.

He retrieved his bag of possessions and set about giving the room a feel of his old room on Schindelgheist Major.

His small brass grail went on a table next to the shrine, waiting until he would use it after the assignment.

He cleaned his bolter, bolt pistol and combat knife, then leaned them against the wall.

Last of all, he placed a rug depicting the night sky as seen from his chapter's Fortress Monastery on the floor.

He sat on his bed and leaned back, content, and certain that he would enjoy his tour with the Deathwatch.  
And I saw her body burning,
With it, my world
To dust returning

Corvin

#20
Corvin had remained quiet on the Thunderhawk, deeming it unnecessary to speak.  He had silently laughed at the new recruits though, for the most part they were eager and foolish . They made small talk as if they were house wives on some distant, peaceful planet. 

The Captain had been relieved to see Hunrik though, at least one familiar, but more importantly dependable face among this team.  Demos he knew of, they had served together during a Crusade once, a long time ago.  Corvin could not quite recall whether Demos had been a Captain then, but that was trivial.  He was a Captain now, and the one in charge of this kill team.  It was highly unusual, maybe even unheard of to have two captains on a single kill team.  Chapters rarely offered up such a priceless resource as a Space Marine Captain to the Death Watch.  Corvin was a Deathwatch veteran, having been in and out of its service for decades, during his centuries of service.  For now it was unclear to Corvin why his presence had been requested on this kill-team.  Perhaps it had been a request of Demos, or whichever Inquisitor was behind the scenes.  Whatever the case, he would know soon enough. 

As the Thunderhawk docked with the ship, the Xenos Bane, Corvin stood, gave a slight nod to Brother Hunrik, and then followed the others off the craft.  Captain Demos stood awaiting them, he looked decent enough.  The Captain greeted them, and then turned his attention to the Dreadnaught.  Corvin bowed slightly in respect, such a venerable machine deserved it, indeed. 

As he bowed he noted his black boots, for half a second forgetting he once again wore the black of the Deathwatch.  He glanced at his right shoulder pad which still displayed his Ultramarines emblem, which entwined with his personal heraldry.  His belt held his twin blades, Retribution and Vengeance.  They were relics of an ancient age, and their value beyond reckoning.  The Captain had chosen not to carry a bolter, or any fire arm at the current time, and he had noticed some of the novices noting so on the Thunderhawk.  None had said anything, perhaps his reputation preceded him.  A reputation well earned, for truly, there were few finer swordsmen in all the ranks of the Astartes.  Lord Marneus Calgar, Master of the Ultramarines himself often chose the Captain as a sparring partner, such was his skill with a blade. 

“Briefing one hour move! Captain Corvin, Brother Hunrik if I may.”

The barked order, followed by the softer request caught Corvin’s attention.  He nodded to Demos, and then led Brother Hunrik towards the kill-team leader. 

Koval

Memories flooded up as Rant drifted into half-sleep, unwittingly summoned by his interrupted discussion with the Destroyer. Memories of death, of terror, of the overwhelming sense of futility in the face of certain death.

Memories of Morel's Reach.

It had been just one year prior to the Third War for Armageddon when Hive Fleet Leviathan had encroached upon the galaxy. Like Behemoth and Kraken before it, Leviathan struck like a knife into the frontier worlds below the galaxy's southern edge. It advanced as two main tendrils, the jaws of an all-devouring monster threatening to swallow the galaxy, and the Imperium was unprepared for its impact.

Though one of the jaws was stopped at Tarsis Ultra, the other continued to push on, and where Leviathan passed, worlds and systems were stripped of life to empower the tyranid machine.

Morel's Reach was once a thriving shrine world, a bastion of faith in the face of ultimate terror, but only a charred rock remains to mark its existence. It was just one of many worlds whose passing galvanised Inquisitor Kryptmann and forced his infamous Gambit to sacrifice worlds and deny the tyranids what they sought.

Men and women from countless thousands of light years around died on Morel's Reach, the call to defend the shrine world too much to ignore. Planet Tsuikelyon, bordering distant Ultramar, sacrificed three entire regiments just to make the most feeble of cuts in the tyranid swarm. Sons and daughters of Valmard and Indeli died together with the brothers of the Deathwatch in the bloodiest fighting of Rant's life.

By comparison, Armageddon was meaningless.

Rant's mission, under Captain Zajdel, was to eliminate a Dominatrix; among the largest tyranid beasts capable of planetfall, the monstrosity matched an Emperor Titan for size and provided a link to the hive mind for billions of tyranids. By all rights such a creature should be unable to support its own mass, but nonetheless it seemed almost capable of defying the laws of nature itself. Entire armies were as nothing before it, and under its command, a near-infinite swarm of smaller tyranids ravaged and devoured everything in its path. It radiated terror from every orifice and to look upon it was to consign one's own self to oblivion.

It would not be enough to simply direct an artillery barrage at it, or attack it from orbit. Somebody had to see the beast die, and ensure that the psychic control it held over its smaller kin was broken, disrupted for long enough for an Exterminatus war fleet to attack Morel's Reach unimpeded by the tyranids. If the exterminators moved too soon, the weapons they carried would be intercepted by tyranids on the ground and in the air, and the ships would be vulnerable to the space-faring hive beasts in low orbit.

It had fallen to Captain Zajdel and Sergeant Rant of the Deathwatch, and the rest of their ten-strong kill team, to destroy the Dominatrix.

And they had succeeded, but at what cost?

Rant endeavoured to push the memories from his mind, but they would not be pushed aside so casually and, as they had done for years, they haunted Rant in his half-sleep, inflicting the most vivid waking nightmares upon him as he struggled to keep his focus.

The years had not been kind to Rant at all.

In the aftermath of the Thirteenth Black Crusade, Rant sought out an Iron-Father from his Chapter and asked him how to banish the horrors that haunted his nightmares. Though the venerable machine-priest meant well, he assumed that Rant had been with his brothers battling the Despoiler's legions. In truth, Rant had not enjoyed proper contact with his Chapter for six years by that time, and the advice of the Iron-Father was, at best, incompatible with the terror Rant had faced. Though mind-cleansing practices are common among Space Marines in contact with the Great Enemy, Rant had battled foes and far more insidious, and yet could not afford to lose his memories and unlearn everything he had been taught.

The years since Morel's Reach dragged on and, at times, the horror of it simply became just another event in history, but focusing on it, whether willingly or unwillingly, plunged Rant headfirst into the horror once again.

And the only escape was through battle. The Deathwatch would not wish to re-educate a mind-cleansed Iron Hand, and at any rate Rant would cease to be Rant. The loss of such a proficient Deathwatch veteran would only create more problems.

Thus, for Rant, there was only the present, the current mission, the focus on living past the next assignment. Dwelling on the past would only bring pain, and the horrors would never cease.

Swarbie

In his own room, Artos walked through his memories. The day he had won the Trials, the mix of pride and sorrow on his father's face as he realised his son would become a member of a Chapter of heroes.

The dark days, weeks, months in the apothecary's care, the pain of each implantation procedure.

The wonder as he was tested against a squad of his former friends, when his new strength was revealed first hand.

Then, brought up by his brief conversation with the Iron Hand on the Thunderhawk, the memories of the invasion of Schindelgheist.

The devastation left by the alien horrors, the fear their very presence seemed to engender.
His Chapter had been lucky, in that they had only encountered a small hive fleet.

Still, there had been losses.

He remembered his squad, still only scouts at the time, assigned to hunt out lictors and genestealers hiding within the cities.

The creatures had been destroyed, but when the last one fell, it took all his brothers except for him with it.

The vivid mental image of his brothers' broken forms called up a more recent memory, one that was even more painful. Artos' visage darkened as he recalled that day.

His first assignment as a member of a Tactical Combat squad. He had been excited.

Perhaps that was why his mind did not properly register the Chaplain's Rite of Sanctification. Maybe that was why he had not been able to focus his rage and blood-lust against just the enemy.

Whatever the reason, he had failed his brothers that day.

The foe, a band of orks, had been annihilated. There had not been a single casualty among his brothers.
And he had stood there, trying to quell the red mist filling his mind, the urge to grab hold of something and rend it limb from limb.

Trying, and failing.

One of his brothers had walked up to him, concerned by his motionlessness.

He had asked if he was wounded.

Artos had lost control.


Suddenly, he thought of the men he was to serve alongside during his tour with the Deathwatch.

The Paladin, light and civilised, the Angel, nervous and quiet.

The Iron Hand, with experiences of the alien to match his own.

Artos vowed that he would not fail them.  
And I saw her body burning,
With it, my world
To dust returning

Necris

He bowed his head in thanks as Corvin and Hunrik moved to his side.

"I thank you Brothers for joining this taskforce, I had requested experienced marines as my seconds I never thought Hex would summon you two."

He smiled slightly looking over their shoulders as the others departed.

"Captain Corvin I'd be honoured if you'd act as my second in command and like Hunrik I would welcome any and all advice you have to honour combined our service to the watch spans centuries and will no doubt be a great resource to call upon."

He clapped them both on the shoulder.

"I'd like you to command Beta squad Corvin, should new marines arrive post this mission this may become a permanent command as the Inquisitor has requested more marines for something big, it is only by stint of us being local that we are being called into action earlier than expected, but enough of that it can wait for the briefing I simply wished to greet the pair of you personally, it's not often that two of the Deathwatch's most well known veterans are sent on the same task force."






This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Kallidor

He hadn't bothered inspecting his cell. Instead he carried on to a nearby corridor which ended at a gallery. It was built beneath the arches of a set of flying buttresses and between each buttress were clear plascrystal windows each one depicting a scene from the Seven Trials of Arion who legend had it had died in a death embrace with a giant serpent, saving his world.

These windows were set ten feet above the walkway and Laran had hauled himself up onto the thick stone sill. He stared into the void musing on the glittering blackness. He sat leaning up against a buttress with one leg over the edge and the other braced. He relaxed into his armour comfortably and idly running his moustache through his forefinger and thumb.

He shifted his weight and played a few chords on Kah'Brosh which slowly turned into the opening bars of Night on Villinax. He looked forward to playing for whatever enemies the Inquisition wanted them to destroy, to see even the most simple and common prayer become a shimmering wall of death that dropped foes to their knees before the Emperor's Chosen was an awesome thing. He hoped their adversaries would not be so inhuman that such a sight would be lost.
Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Inquisitor Ranovack

#25
As he stowed his kit around his cell Peleus thourght of his brothers back with the Lions. His pride should just be landing on Jocasta III to bring the Emporers wrath to the blue skinned scum..Not for the first time he wondered if he should be there with them not up here on some onknown mission.  He came out of his revery as he felt his fist crush the nutrient bar he had taken from the galley.

After placing the few personal effects round the room he proceeded to the range to make sure his weapons weren't damaged in transit from the Lions Den.
though i fly through the valley of death i shall fear no evil for i am at 50,000 feet and climing

Hedgewise

Once he was happy with the condition of his wargear, Kraven knelt before the shrine of the Emperor at the head of his bunk and as the litanies and prayers slipped seamlessly passed his lips his mind wandered to his past experiences.

First that came to mind was the mission to retrieve relics of the Vanguard on the Space Hulk Absolute Damnation near on six decades ago...the mission that began his career in the Deathwatch and twenty years of hunting Xenos across the galaxy before returning in time for the Sulvarix Crusade and then the 13th Black Crusade.

Once his devotions were complete Kraven his neural ports connecting his bionic left arm to his shoulder suddenly began to ach. As he rolled the bionic limb he raised his gauntleted left hand and remembered those who fell on the Damnation, all former Brothers who had fought with him since his Initiation, and the small pieces of their bones integrated within his arms superstructure and their names inscribed upon the plating, a constant reminder of the innumerable fallen Battle-Brothers of the Emperor's Angels of Death and the destiny  that all Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes hoped for...a glorious death in battle with the foes of the Emperor.

With that thought Kraven retrieved his weapons, checked their combat readiness one last time and marched out the cell block towards the ships prow and the Kill Teams mission briefing.

Necris

Demos had gone straight to the Armoury, he knew the mission like the chips in his armour and he's already prepared for the coming conflict a hundred times, he'd been lingering in limbo not active yet not restless while the new force had been assembled and this mission would be a fine one to wet their blades upon.

Within the armour the imposing frame of Sirus Gale stood tech adepts tending to his armoured hull checking his systems were functioning and in order as he made to stand before the giant he was touched with admiration and regret, admiration for in life Sirus had been a hero one of the greatest the chapter had ever had his deeds alone covered one wall of the great banqueting hall of the Blood Guard, he had been Demos' predecessor as First Captain wounded beyond recovery during the Fall it had fallen to Demos to take up his mantel, as he looked over the names etched into the hull of the Dreadnought he spotted battles he himself had fought in alongside Sirus.

++Who Dares Disturb my slumber!++

He was surprised by the sudden booming voice that came from Sirus and a warm smile crept onto his face.

"It is me Brother Sirus, Demos Fannell."

++You wear black brother Demos, those are not the colours of our chapter.++

"No we are with the Deathwatch brother."

++You were never one to rest within the Chapter's home, always seeking battle where ever you could.++

"Yes Brother the hunters spirit is strong in me."

++As it was with me++

"That is why I summoned you to my side, I have need of your strength brother."

++And you shall have it, always brother captain.++

"Thank you brother, rest now your time will come shortly."

Sirus fell silent Demos didn't know if he'd fell back into his dreaming slumber of if he'd just shut off the voc caster that acted as his voice. He turned raising his voice to punch through the armoury.

"Matthias!"

A few seconds later a powerfully build serf appeared, Matthias in truth was scout initiate he'd requested to come along with Demos as his serf to tend his possessions and Demos had agreed and he'd proven useful so far more diligent that the Deathwatch Serfs and careful an respectful, he came with Demos' bolter passing to the captain his eyes moving to Sirus who he bowed to. Demos checked the weapon racking the weapon he looked to Matthias.

"The mechanism is smoother."

"Yes I replaced the old one with one recovered from an old Umbra patter bolter."

"Very good work, maybe I should recommend you to the techmarines."

"It would be an honour First Captain."

"I require a heavy flamer for the coming mission."

"Do you require additional fuel capacity?"

"No the minimum will be enough."

He turned back to Sirus as Matthias headed back into the armoury, then he went to the tacticum in the centre of the chamber, it was their practice to brief while armouring as one he'd brought into the watch with him, activating the mechanism he looked at the world they were en route too.

"Scarre."
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Simeon Blackstar

Martell found himself a cell rather quickly, and soon had what meagre possessions he had assigned to their proper place.  Having stripped and cleaned both bolter and chainaxe before the Thunderhawk ride, there was little more he could profitably do in the 45 minutes remaining until the briefing.  He decided to spend it in tactical meditation.

Seating himself on the floor in the middle of the room, he began to run scenarios through his mind, considering how he would deal with various threats and oppositions.  The recent weeks in the Deathwatch had been an intriguing change to normal - firstly, he was directly under the command of another rather than given the authority to execute a military action as he saw fit.  That alone changed the scenarios substantially, as it changed the meditations from primarily considering what orders to give into how he could best execute such orders. 

Any onlookers would have seen his muscles twitching as he ran through moves and counter moves in his mind.

The second main difference was that the force was entirely composed of Space Marines.  Although this meant he could rely on the others with him far more than lowly Guardsmen, he found it strangely more difficult to assign orders.  For all their training and armour, Space Marines would never have the sheer numbers and armoured support of the Imperial Guard, frequently leading them to have lesser firepower over all.  Five boltguns could make a fearful mess of some foes, but 30 lasguns could frequently do more, cover more firelanes, and so on.  No more could he easily call in artillery strikes, melta teams mounted in Valkyries to destroy unexpected heavy armour, Hellhounds and Bane Wolves to flush out heavily fortified trenches.  No Marine was expendable in the way that a squad of Guardsmen could be spent for the greater victory. 

A force comprised entirely of Marines was something Martell had never commanded, and would need to learn how if he was ever to reach the rank of Captain.

Perhaps that was why he had been assigned to the Deathwatch - to learn from the best?

...

He opened his eyes, refreshed.  The time displayed on his wall matched his mind's silent assessment that now was the time to leave if he was to arrive 5 minutes early for the briefing.  Standing lightly, he stretched out his joints and headed off to rejoin Captain Demos and his new battle-brothers.


Inquisitor Ranovack

Peleus finnished his training movements and went through his mental checklist.
Strip ad clean bolter.done
test claw. done. 
test jump pack. done. 
check the bolters sights are properly alighned. done.
and finnally he'd run through the strikes, blocks,counterstrikes,feignts etc. the weapons master  had tourght him in the Lions Den and the ones he'd develpoed in 122 years service to the emporers finest.
He checked the cronometer on the wall and went across the corridor to the armoury to find out what infortunate xenos would be feeling the emporers wrath next.
though i fly through the valley of death i shall fear no evil for i am at 50,000 feet and climing