The Conclave

++Deathwatch Strike Cruiser Xenos Bane++
++Under Current Command of Inquisitor Hex++
++Deathwatch Senior Officer Captain Demos Fannell++
++Ferrers Sub Sector++
++In orbit of Deathworld designated YJ9653++
++Destination Scarre System ++
++Meditation Deck++

The scrape of flint on blade hissed through the chamber steady and methodical slowly he drew the whetstone over the bone white blade in his hands his combat blade fashioned from the tooth of a copper basilisk from his homeworld close to two centuries ago, before him on an ork hide mat lay a carving of ironwood a indigenous fauna to the world that turned below the Strike Cruiser Xenos Bane, the wood was intriguing to him soft to work but given time to dry and season was as hard as plasteel or the plates of his armour which awaited him in the armoury below, he stopped mid stroke his head tilting up his voice echoing round the chamber a cold rasp.

"You are not Matthias."

Matthias was his serf from the Chapter he'd come along to tend his armour and weapons and to act as his aide and to tend to his needs during his tour, this newcomer smelt wrong, Matthias stank of oils and unguents used to clean his armour, the blessed fluid used to lubricate his bolter and the rank odour of the protein meals and supplement drinks all the hallmark smells of a serf of any Chapter, this newcomer was perfumed and slick with the stench of fine foods and wines, an Inquisitional dog he hesitated unfamiliar with the curt tone he'd used.

"No Captain Fannell I am not, Matthias is preparing your armour."

"So the Inquisitor decides when I am to arm myself now?"

"Indeed, you are too be armoured to greet your new task force."

He sat back breathing deeply his hands resting on either side of him still holding his tools he finally pushed himself to his feet in one fluid movement coming to his full height he turned on the Inquisitorial aide, the man was pudgy a life spent stuffing himself on the finest things in the Imperium, he took an involuntary step back as Fannell came to his full height.

"My name is Demos."

"What?"

"Fannell is my Clan name, my name is Demos not Fannell."

"I apologise for the confusion our records have your full name I just assumed."

"It is a common mistake, think nothing more of it, who are you?"

"I'm Rigal aide to Inquisitor Hexx, can I ask lord what is that?"

He gestured at the carving on the floor, Demos turned scooping it up he tossed it to Rigal who caught it as it hit his chest.

"A Copper Basilisk from my homeworld."

"They look vicious."

"Their young are more so, their venom from their fangs can kill marines in minutes."

"Marines? What about the adults venom?"

"An irritant at best, when they become fully grown they don't need the venom to hunt, they have enough
power and strength to rend tank hulls open."

"Truly vicious."

"Nothing compared to my battle brothers, come let us go and claim my armour you can brief me on the way I wish to know who my new watch brothers are."

Rigal watched as the giant strode past him he notice on the marines face a look of hunger and relish at the coming conflict it sent shivers down his spine as the Captain's eyes fell upon him as he passed, it had been one of the first things he'd spotted when the marine had spoken the pair of fangs within his mouth where his incisors should be, he swallowed hard then followed.

++Thunderhawk wing Fulman++
++En route  From Strike Cruiser Hunters Spear to Strike Cruiser Xenos Bane++
++Transporting Task Force Demos Marines++

A wing of Black Thunderhawks approached Xenos Bane large silver seals of the Inquisitor standing bold on the sides marking them clear as vessels of the Deathwatch.  Within the carriage compartment of the Thunderhawk designated Alpha the marines of this new task force sat in quiet reserve for some this was their first tour with the watch their armour still bearing their chapters heraldry boldy, for others this was just another assignment during their tenure of service to the watch, their armour already black the right pauldron and arm silver and bearing the badge of the Deathwatch. Brother Kurtis of the Angles of Absolution sat looking at the others from all the chapters this was his first tour with the watch though he was far from green he'd served his chapter for over a century in the 3rd company. He had made this requested this of his chapter master his desire to better understand the xenos threat and to learn new methods of killing then after a prolonged engagement with the Orks and Tau, he hoped to learn new skills from his battle brothers in his watch so that he would be able to take them back to his chapter so it could grow and become stronger for it. Looking around the marines once more he finally broke the silence.

"Have any of you served alongside the Brother-Captain before?"

Martell smiled amiably at Kurtis, gauntletted hands resting on the boltgun and chainaxe plugged into cavities at his sides.  "No brother, not under Captain Demos.  In truth I know little of him.  I hope that my assignment to his command will last longer than my others though."
He looked around at the other battle-brothers arrayed next to and opposite him, noting appreciatively that a substantial number descended the Imperial Fists, as did his own.  With the blood of Dorn running in their veins, he felt sure that he could trust at least these to act with discipline, unlike the uncouth sons of Russ and the bloodthirsty Chapters hailing from Sanguinus. 

With some trepitation he noticed the winged blood drop on one of the other Marines' shoulder pad.  This tour with the Deathwatch could provide some rather more... interesting experiences than he had hoped for.

"I have not served alongside Brother-Captain Demos before either, Angel of Absolution," said Artos, his voice merely a hoarse whisper. "But I have heard of his many fine deeds and hope to shed much xenos blood under his command."

A grin quickly spread across his face as he turned to look at Kurtis, his blood-red eyes gleaming.

"Better stay out of my way, Angel. You might get hurt."

He turned away again and began talking to one of the others.  

"Never served under Demos."

Matej Rant's voice was neither loud nor especially quiet, and he spoke in clipped tones to economise his speech, though there was nonetheless an almost jovial element to his voice. His steely eyes flickered almost imperceptibly between the other Marines around him, resting first upon a Paladin Benevolent, then a Destroyer, then another Marine to his right whose Chapter marking was on the other side of him. Whenever his eyes moved, they flickered around almost instantly, before fixing themselves upon Rant's current focus and hovering immobile like the eyes of a statue.

"Looking forward to it, though. Would appreciate new leadership."

This got Kurtis' attention and the Angel of Absolution looked at his Iron Hand counterpart curiously.

"And with whom have you served previously?"

Rant jerked his head around like a machine, staring at Kurtis with what could only be described as benevolent curiosity.

"Iron Hands, 3rd Company. Ended four years before Armageddon. Then Zajdel of Grief Bringers, K.I.A. by lacrymole assassin. Now, new assignment."

Rant sat back in his couch, and Kurtis caught a glimpse of Rant's Iron Hand insignia as the Sergeant reached behind him to retrieve his bolter. Unloading it, Rant drew a tiny auto-drill from his belt and activated it. He hunted around on the bolter's case for an area not yet covered in devotions, finally settling on the base of the grip and slowly, but efficiently, carving the Opus Machina into his bolter.

"Should prove interesting," Rant remarked absently, focusing on his work.

While talking to the others, Artos had also been looking around, trying to analyse his soon to be team-mates' fighting styles.

The Paladin had a chain-axe, so he would probably have some skill in close-combat.

The Angel only seemed to have his bolter, but doubtless he had something to ensure his safety up close.

And the Iron Hand was inscribing a prayer on his bolter. Artos studied him closely.
No sheaths or blade handles, no digi-weapons built into his armour as far as he could see.
"Hey, Iron Hand. Where's your close-quarters weapon?" he said. "I have my knife, the Paladin has his chain-axe, and I'm pretty sure even the Angel has a knife or something hidden somewhere."

Rant paused, marking the start of the Opus Machina's next line, before calmly lowering his bolter and turning off the auto-drill. He turned to face his accuser, Brother Artos, with a slight smile on his face.

"My weapon?"

Rant held up his right hand, flexing his fingers all in unison.

"Electoo inductor. Martian, gift from Magos Militant Arakyne for completing training."

"You're a Techmarine?" inquired Artos. "Forgive me. You're an Iron Hand, after all, your Chapter's known for its ties with the Adeptus Mechanicus. But why the electoo inductor?"

"Can't cut iron crab with knives. But crab still has nerves," Rant explained, fishing around in his belt and eventually retrieving a tiny electro candle, holding it in his right hand by the base. "Also helpful for Rite of Luminen."

"The Rite of Luminen?"

By way of answer, Rant seemingly activated the electro candle by thought alone, throwing a dim cyan light across his midnight-black armour.

"And when that's not enough?"

"Bolter fire. More efficient when whole galaxy still uses swords in age of Titans and Warp travel."

Rant stowed away the electro candle before withdrawing something bigger from his belt, roughly the size of a meltabomb.

"And for emergencies, plasma cutters. Easiest if few tools do many things."

Martell chuckled good naturedly as the Iron Hands Marine revealed his hidden weaponry and espoused the merits of the bolter over the sword.
"Very true, brother, it is easier to cut down the foe from a distance.  Hopefully you will never be forced to rely on your tools to defend yourself."

He turned to look at Artos, still smiling but with a slight hint of challenge.

"Speaking of close-quarters weapons, I was given to believe that the descendants of Sanguinus favoured such combat themselves.  Do you have something hidden up your sleeves too?  A pair of lighting claws hidden in bionic arms, perhaps?

Ignoring the conversation flowing around him, Simion checked the ammo-feed on the 'Fury of Mars' for the tenth time this hour. He looked up briefly when Brother Rant produced his hidden weapons, and caught his eye, before briefly displaying the Mechanicus symbol engraved on his palm, before returning to counting the amount of bolts in the ammo-feed.

Artos smiled back at Martell, his eyes giving him a slightly crazed look.

"As I said, I have my knife. And my chapter does indeed favour close-combat."

He paused for a moment, then continued speaking.

"But you only need a large, unwieldy weapon like your chain-axe if you plan on letting the enemy see you before you kill him."

Martell laughs out loud, enjoying the banter.  "Very well, brother, I admit I am not personally inclined to the stealth attack.  If we need a sentry taken down then I'm sure you'd do the better job, but when we're fighting our way through the midst of a mob of Orks or killing our treacherous brothers, I'll take my 'clumsy' weapon any day."

"True, your weapon is suited to a full-on assault. I may arm myself similarly if we are to encounter a full-on battle during this assignment," said Artos.

He grinned at  Martell, this time with a hint of genuine warmth.

"After all, there's nothing quite like the sensation of using a chain-axe, is there?"

Martell nods.  "I have to admit, given the choice I prefer the Thunder Hammer.  Now that is a weapon there really is nothing else like!  You can hit anything with that and be fairly sure it won't get up again." 
He pats the chainaxe at his side.  "But aside from one of those, this has done a good job at keeping me alive."

"Thunder hammer. Favoured of Salamanders," Rant noted, "and us. Heavy, unsubtle. Never used one."

"You've never lived, Iron Hand," Martell chuckled.

"Life, prison, death, release," Rant responded with a wry grin. "Ante, plus one. Meltagun, when heavier support needed. Killed charging ork war chief on Armageddon under Zajdel. Hamstrung carnifex at Morel's Reach. Slower than bolters, but more devastating."

He shrugged. "Best not to concern ourselves. All chosen for kill-team, not Vanguard."

"True, Hand," said Artos. "In all likelihood, we are not going to be deployed at the front of an open battlefield."

Thinking through the rest of what Rant had said, he found something interesting.

"You've fought the tyranids too, Hand?"

Sorting aimlessly through his pack, Simion enquired, "Does anyone have a electro-spanner on them? A bolt is loose on 'The Fury of Mars, which must be fixed." Withdrawing his hand his hand, Simion produced a spanner, with a Ambull claw handle. "Never mind."

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.  

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. 

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.

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.  

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."

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

Artos suddenly realised that it was time to leave for the briefing. He quickly gathered his weapons and small brass grail and headed to the armoury.

The last of the Deathwatch to arrive for the briefing, Hunrik spotted Demos in conversation with a serf as he entered the armoury. Unlike the others he had not had a chance to visit his allotted private room yet, having opted to oversee the unloading of his personal Land Speeder Tempest. As one of the last links to his chapter that he had, it was of utmost importance to him that it was well cared for, he had spent some time talking to the techpriests about the machine spirits individual quirks.

In the meantime he had had his crate of personal equipment taken to the armoury by serfs, where it now awaited him as he approached the workbench upon which a wax seal branded with the Inquisition held a parchment declaring the bench as being for the sole usage of "Deathwatch Veteran Hunrik of the most honourable Knights Pacificus, by order of the Inquisition". Similar seals were attached to the other workbenches each Deathwatch present.

He felt the familiar pang of regret and sorrow on seeing his chapters name, but he pushed it aside, he needed to focus on the briefing, as he took position at his bench he saw all the others expectantly watching as Captain Demos approached the tacticum and announced, "Scarre."

As Demos stood before the tacticum a figure slid into the armoury masked in shadows they stood in silence as Demos spoke repeating the name of the world again for those who had missed it.

"Scarre, twenty five days ago the Imperial Guard senior commanders were ambushed and captured by Tau forces, in disarray the guard have fallen back to their one last stronghold, they are besieged on all sides by superior forces of both Tau and PDF troops who have submitted to the Tau command. Our task is to rescue the Guard commanders and recover them to an extraction point."

Brother Artos interrupted.

"This seems over kill for a rescue mission, surely there are stormtroopers that can do this."

He gestured at the gathered marines and the towering figure of the Dreadnaught Sirus Gale standing to one side of the armoury. The Inquisitor stepped forward his black power armour clanking across the grilled floor.

"Indeed I could send my Inquisitorial forces were it not for the Imperial Commander, the man in charge of this campaign is Lord Inquisitor Borurke, the knowledge he has about the military front against the tau in this sector could tip the balance in their favour and result in an all out Imperial route, a dozen systems would fall and to this Xenos' fledgling Empire something we cannot allow to happen."

Demos stepped forward reclaiming his briefing.

"That being said it falls to the best the Imperium has to offer and we will not shy from this duty. Thankfully the Inquisitor had a psyker within his staff her last known location was here."

The world that had been rotating zoomed into the largest of the continents a target marker flashing on an open plane.

"The largest enemy strong point is located two hundred clicks south of that location, intelligence provided by the guard on world suggests that this is the enemy headquarters and theory suggests this is correct from orbital scans this is the largest concentration of their forces heavy deployment patters indicate this is the primary staging ground for all tau activity, we anticipate heavy enemy numbers present so an standard attack plan is out of the question we cannot afford to assault this stronghold. The stronghold is made up of outer and inner defensive walls, the outer wall consists of four gates protected by heavily defended gatehouses, the inner wall however possess one gatehouse with a possible second smaller gate. Suggestions?"

"A drop pod insertion?"

It was Martell who spoke and Demos smiled flashing his fangs at the marine in a hungry manner.

"Very good brother drop pods it is, three wave strike, first wave will be us spread across three pods each marine will be armed with a heavy weapon upon crashdown, once your ammunition is spent discard and switch to your primary weapons, second wave will be a deathwind of pods equipped with assault cannons and launchers to rain chaos and confusion throughout the stronghold the last wave will be a single pod containing brother Sirus, His is the simple task of laying waste to the enemy."

He looked round the room.

"Our objectives are to recover the Inquisitor and the senior staff act as protection until they can be lifted to safety by the waiting Thunderhawks, and the elimination of the Tau elite once their leadership caste is dead the Tau become disarrayed and disorganised. Once the head is removed the guard holed up on world up launch a counter attack securing a beach head from relief forces led by Inquisitor Hex to land our task beyond the rescue is to take and hold the enemy headquarters against retreating forces, any comments? "

"Yes sir," Martell speaks up again.  "Do we have a multimelta?  The Tau are likely to have tanks and battle suits guarding their Ethereal, and it has been a while since I last had the chance to hunt heavy armour.  Besides, we need to bring down any railguns before the Ancient One lands or he could be in grave danger."

"The armoury is fully stocked with heavy weapons, I am sure Matthias will be able to acquire the weapons you require."

He gestured at his serf as he returned placing a heavy flamer in Demos' bay, the scout turned and nodded heading off into the armoury.

"Explain, Commander," Rant began, "deliberate risk of friendly fire. Tactical nonsense."

The hall went silent as Rant delivered his short, but decidedly damning, criticism. Demos stared at the Iron Hand, nonplussed by Rant's dissent.

"Brother Rant, for how long have you served in the Deathwatch?" Demos queried, as if talking to a neophyte.

"Fifteen years. Began in 994."

Demos paused, the thought occurring to him that Rant was in a league of his own, having stayed on beyond the standard decade of duty to the Ordo Xenos. His service records were not especially fresh in Demos' memory, and the length of service had been somewhat unexpected.

"Then, pray tell, brother, exactly what do you mean by tactical nonsense?"

"Three stages in drop pod assault. Good. But flawed order. Not logical to send down Deathstorm after kill team. Deathstorm generally indiscriminate upon landing, so kill team loss possible. Sending Deathstorm first, better, weaken enemy defenses, then send kill team. Otherwise, nonsense, risk losing kill team, risk failure."

Peleus had stood unmoving after Demos had mantioned the Tau, In his mind he replayed the breif seconds when he tore through the White clad xenos finnally coming into the view of their commander. their breif encounter left the xenos dead and Peleus permanently scarred and with the bionincs. he Was relishing the chance to rend the foul blue skinned filth again.
He Walked over to the rack of heavy weapons  looked along them for a few seconds then chose a plasma cannon. He then went back over to the rest of his new brothers just in time to agree with brother Rant

Martell's satisfied smile at the prospect of blowing things up evaporated at Rant's comment.  He had supposed that the Deathwind pods would be in other areas of the stronghold to pin down and distract potential reinforcements, not in an area the Deathwatch would be actively moving through.  Trusting Captain Demos to sort things out, he following Peleus' lead, moved to the armoury as Matthias struggled into view.  He relieved him of the burden of the multimelta he carried with a nod of thanks.  Initiate though he may be, the weapon was one of the heaviest pieces of kit a Space Marine could carry, and power armour certainly made it easier to handle.

He smiled that predatory smile of his as he disengaged the tacticum and strode in amongst them he looked around them.

"Do I detect fear in you Brother Rant?"

He was jesting his voice jovial and teasing as he strode to his personal bay his true effects of war decorating it, drawing a power sword from it he examined the blade.

"I have trust in the weapons I wield Brother, trust that their machine spirits will guide them against the enemy and away from our allies and friends, I find it worrying that an Iron Hand would question the machine spirit of an instrument of war."

He had been serious with that last statement as he ignited the blade spiralling it round his body as he walked between them flashing the crimson blade close to his brothers as he walked back to the tacticum he stopped tossing the weapon towards Corvin who caught it deftly and deactivated the blade.

"Trust in your weapons and your equipment and it will not fail you, the deathwinds will be targeted beyond our active engagement zone to sow confusion and chaos upon our enemy, it is a tactic I have used many times to great effects and as of yet I have not lost a brother in arms."

Corvin offered him his blade as he stepped up to him and turned upon them resting it between his feet.

"Any other questions?"

"You have not met many Iron Hands," Rant chuckled, standing up. "I am Techmarine. Machine spirit, thing of perfection and clarity. But, in fairness, easier to trust in clearer tactical breakdown."

Vaulting over the thankfully empty pews, Rant judged the swiftest and most efficient path to the heavy weapons, and seized the opportunity eagerly.

"One more question. Drop pods, large capacity. Possible to fill extra space with combat servitors?"

The question hung in the air for a brief second as Rant dodged around Matthias and lifted the nearest available lascannon.

"An interesting proposal, brother," Demos conceded. "What is your motive? Do you feel more at home with something as mechanical as you?"

"Saturation," Rant replied simply, ignoring the jibe. "Deploy more heavy weapons, cover larger fire zone, eliminate enemy. More targets for enemy, divide incoming fire, easier to complete mission."

"I hope you're not proposing using combat servitors as human shields, brother," Demos stated flatly. "We Shall Know No Fear."

"Not fear. Drop pods, operating at under 40% transport capacity if split across three. Can fill space with servitors and boost to 60-85% with extra fire support. And better to lose servitor than to lose Deathwatch veteran."

Rant hefted the lascannon over his shoulders, supporting it with one hand, and lifted its matching backpack unit in the other. Eight canister-shaped cells were slotted into the backpack, four on the left and four on the right, each one the size of a man's fist. With the proper rituals, the cells could power the lascannon for twelve shots with ease, possibly more, before running out of charge.

"Is just thought."

'When do we get to kill the scum' asked Peleus still in the grips of the anger at all tau

as he said this he made sure his plasma cannons ammo counter was reading full so he would be able  to smash the xenos quickly

He'd grown tired of Rant now he turned his attention to Peleus as he made his way to he bay to return the power sword

"The Pods are waiting for us, as we speak we are entering the Scarre system and will be in orbit within the turn of the day."

He turned upon them and waited for a moment.

"Brothers prepare yourselves for battle."

Then he moved like quicksilver crossing the room he came up close to Rant's face his voice a low growl.

"I would respect your fellow brothers more Brother Rant, come the time of battle they will be your rock with which you shall steady yourself against the enemies of the Emperor, if you do not have their trust or show them your trust in them the rock will crumble and we will all fall."

He stalked from them turning to Sirus.

"What say you revered lord of war?"

++Sirus cares little for the danger the deathwinds pose, Sirus is a warrior and longs for battle.++

"Fine words."

He turned and strode from the armoury leaving his brothers to prepare themselves he walked the corridors of the ship considering his command Rant could cause a problem if not reigned in, he would leave it for this mission the risk was minimal but in their primary mission he would stamp out the defiance, he would need to or their lives would be forfeit

Peleus noted demos  walk up to Rant and chose not to overhear what was said between them.

He did one last check on his equipment then put on his ammo pack and hurried to his pod where he prepared himsef for th coming battle

He nodded to his brothers as they went past him to their pods and started to recite the rites of war as tourght to him in the den.

Laran, like all Prophets of Hatred, had experience with any weapon available to his Chapter but he had always preferred to meet his enemies close-to rather than at a distance. He went directly to the nearest weapon, unconcerned with what it was. He picked up a heavy bolter and lifted it onto his shoulder. He flipped a switch on the side and felt the mag-clamps engage locking the weapon into place on his pauldron. He ejected the magazine and worked the action making sure the machine spirit still responded. He snatched up a few more magazines loading them quickly and loading a last entirely with hellfire bolts. He was confident that the weapon would easily punch through Tau armour and the hellfire would make short work of any Kroot.

He knew that he had fought the Tau in the Damocles Gulf Crusade, he had vivid memories of their warriors and attack vehicles, he knew their tactics and hierarchy and he had clear images in his mind of running battles, almost as if he were viewing a recording of the battle. He knew so much and recalled it all very clearly but he could not remember how the battles had made him feel. Always he recalled his memories of battle and could feel his hatred it was like a sledgehammer blow to the face, numbing yet acute and it sat like a heavy weight in his mind, as if all his blood were made of lead. It was an emotion that made him feel invincible but his recollections of the Crusade were hollow, so many flickering photographs and vid-reels. He dismissed his thoughts and disengaged the mag-clamps heading to the nearest drop-pod.

During the briefing Kraven had found his workstation and prepped his weapons for combat, mainly adding a M40 targeting scope and a shot selector to his bolter, before moving over to the weapon racks and retrieving a heavy bolter from its mooring and picking up an ammo pack marked as loaded with Kraken Pattern Penetrator Rounds and prepping the heavy weapon as well.

Once he was sure of his selection and readiness he headed to the door heading to the drop bay and knelt by one of the many drop pods awaiting their deadly cargo.

"Where there is uncertainty, I shall bring light
Where there is doubt, I shall sow faith
Where there is shame, I shall point atonement
Where there is rage, I shall show its course
My word in the soul shall be as my bolter in the field."

Walking into the armoury, Simion crossed to his workbench. The only equipment he took were three magazines of Kraken rounds and a belt of frag grenades. Muttering praise to the Machine God, he performed the Ammunition Ritual of his Chapter, before checking his equipment one more time, then leaving for the drop pods.

Martell's mind was in turmoil as he headed towards the drop pods, carrying the large weapon without much difficulty.  He had forgotten how different other Chapters could be.  From the Lion's bloodlust to kill Tau, though the Iron Hand Techmarine's lack of tact, to the Captain's apparant lust for glory, Martell tried to reconcile all the points of view with the doctrine of the Paladins Benevolent.  He was looking forward to the challenge of the battle, true, and the Tau should not have had the gall to attack this world let alone kidnap an Inquisitor Lord.  He would fight for the liberation of the Imperial world with all his might, but he would take no pleasure in the deaths of the aliens.  While he could see the benefits to Rant's suggestions, he had enough awareness of tact that siding against his Captain was a good way to be sent back to his Chapter in disgrace and spend the next few decades working his way back to Sergeant.

As he attached his weapons and himself into the pod and began his battle meditations, he reflected that he had a lot to learn about command.

As Laran prepared his equipment ready to strap into the harness he put his helmet on and looked over to Brother Rant. His helmet's optics looked up from under the helmet's brim glowing orange as if they contained liquid fire. Along the snout of the helmet teeth, like those of a wild predatory animal, had been carved and the caught the baleful light of the optics making Laran appear to be grinning.

"You know Brother," Laran's voice growled, laced with distortion by the amplifier in the muzzle of his helmet. "You make a perfectly valid point about the Deathwinds, I've seen squads of Guardsmen torn to shreds faster than the enemies they fought by those things. Plus, they are woefully innacurate, even at point blank range. Hmm, it is as you say, servitors would be an asset, mobile, long range and with a modicum of tactical sense. Ha ha, perhaps combat servitors would be even better, no ammunition to deplete and they will take full advantage of the Tau's weakness in hand-to-hand."

In any house let there be five and two shall stand against three and three shall stand against two, brother against brother... Those were the fundamental teachings of the Prophets of Hatred, the Emperor had built from His own flesh the greatest warriors Mankind had even known, not to bring peace but to do war for all eternity. Truly, for did those chapters who did not acknowledge that simple fact still drawn upon warrior cultures to provide their initiates? Did they not test each one through strife and battle until only the strongest, the most worthy, survived? Were the weak not cast aside? Of course they were.

Rant didn't look up, but acknowledged Brother Laran's remark with a nod as he unscrewed the side of the lascannon's focusing chamber.

"Hence, issue raised with Captain Demos," Rant answered, inspecting the intricate apparatus for the slightest imperfections. Using a tiny pencil-sized electrolumen he scoured the interior of the chamber, drawing the beam up and down the various mechanisms and carefully examining each part with the practiced eye of a Techmarine.

"But no change in plan, so must live with consequences. Can still follow orders like these without agreeing."

Pulling out a tiny drill, Rant picked up the panel he had removed and began to engrave a rune on the exterior face.

"And close combat units, good idea, but again, flawed."

He finished one rune and moved onto the next; an eye, then a sharp, jagged lightning bolt.

"Tau weak in close assault, but powerful guns with good range. Difficult and foolish to charge across open ground into enemy gunline. But in trenches or fortress, harder to use heavier guns, easier to fight at close quarters."

The first few angular lines of the Opus Machina.

"We deploy outside fortress. Hence, using heavier guns, longer range than standard Tau long-arm."

Rant worked quickly, drawing only a simple Opus Machina for the lowest level of benediction; enough to please the machine-spirit, and blessing it efficiently, but not displaying disrespect, or undue adoration where it was not warranted. Satisfied, he replaced the lascannon's panel and spoke the Rite of Assembly to bless his weapon.

Finally, he turned to face Laran and held up his tools, gesturing at Laran's heavy bolter.

"You want your weapon blessed, Brother?"

"True, the Tau would make light work of combat servitors at a distance but those of my Chapter are programmed to hide and lash out only at those who get close." Laran laughed as he recalled some distant memory. "Ahh, but we are not with my Chapter." He paused and took a breath then retrieved the heavy weapon. "If this is to be abandoned once the ammunition is spent it seems only fair we give it its due before the battle." Laran gave the heavy bolter to Rant. Rant's movements were like those of a mechanical arm, swift, deft and economical, graceful. Some might say inhuman. However, the Prophet's admired strength and Laran saw only the purity of the Omnisiah in Rant's precise movements and none of the clumsiness of a wholly human hand. Inside his helmet Laran sneered, he despised clumsiness.

Artos walked up to Captain Demos, a hint of nervousness on his face.

"Captain, may I ask something of you?"

"Of course," replied Demos.

"Are any chaplains available on board the ship?"

"Unfortunately not," said Demos, puzzlement showing on his face.

"A librarian, then?"

"We are not honoured by the presence of a member of the Librarium either, brother."

Artos swallowed. His face was a study, mixing anger with something else, something deeper.  Fear.

"I am afraid, then, Brother-Captain, that I shall have to be left behind."

"No."

"No? Captain, do you know of my chapter? We are young, but filled with an ancient fury. If I am to fight alongside my brothers in the field, I will need help to focus my mind."

"I have indeed heard of your chapter, Artos. I know that you believe it necessary to focus your rage with the help of another, but it is my belief that you do not need such help."

"Captain, you do not know everything."

"Oh, yes?"

"Indeed. Today my chapter's 3rd company lacks two who should have served us with pride for many years. This....this was my fault."

"How so?" said Demos gently, clearly seeing the anguish on Artos' face.

"I...I lost control. The foe were defeated, but I could not quench the rage I felt. It took over."

"Artos," said Demos, laying a hand on the marine's shoulder. "I believe in you. You have lost control once, but now you know the consequences. Believe me, it will not happen again."

"Very well," said Artos tightly.

He turned and walked away.

Martell saw his face. It was white with fear. 

Martell's heart sank at the other Marine's confession.  So that was how the flawed geneseed of the Blood Angels manifested in this successor chapter.  In times of war though, brothers-in-arms must cover for eachothers' weaknesses.  As Artos move to strap in next to him, he caught his eye.  He looked surprisingly vulnerable for a 7-and-a-half foot tall killing machine with the armour and firepower of a tank.

"Artos," he began.  "I believe too.  I will stay near you during this attack and any other you want me to, and try to be the calm to balance your anger.  If you cannot retain control when all foes are dead, I am no stranger to single combat.  I should be able to restrain you long enough for your fury to cool.  Control over oneself is learned through hardship and practice."

With that, he nods before fitting his helmet in place, ready for the drop.

Peleus paused in his mantra and offered a quick prayer to the Emporer for his brothers and for himself. He asked that they would be able to smite the Xenos with the Emporers wrath.
He then continued to chant.

'Lo, there do I see my past,
Lo, there do I see my future,
Lo, there do I see my brothers from now back to the very beggining,
soon I shall join them,
In the halls of the Emporer,
Where the brave live forever'

He then offered prayers to the Emporer and his saints. and meditated on the coming battle and on the battle that his fellow lions were fighting at this moment. He realised it was the first time in 150 years that his pride was entering a campaign with out him. After a moments more thourght he continued his mantra.

Satisfied with his work, Rant handed the heavy bolter back to Laran.

"Good weapon," he observed. "Pattern not recognised, but too many forge worlds in galaxy for junior Techmarine to name. Solid construction, suspensors needed recalibrating, but machine spirit responsive, willing to serve."

Out of the corner of his eye Rant caught sight of Brother Artos, and heard the Destroyer's confession. Rant's head snapped up to face Brother Laran, startling the Prophet slightly until Rant's brow began to soften and crease in mild concern.

"Brother... Laran?" the Iron Hand queried.

"That's right," Laran confirmed, nodding carefully.

"I am Techmarine. Not yet Iron-Father, not suited to counsel. But, concerned for troubled Destroyer. Not skilled enough to repair mechanism of human mind. But, familiar with Prophets, so perhaps task better suited to Prophet than to Iron Hand."

Rant gestured behind him in Artos' direction.

"Is mutual benefit, for Destroyer and for Deathwatch."

Laran took back the heavy bolter with a silent nod of thanks and looked over to the Destroyer. As a Mahtar,  Laran was tasked with keeping the spirits of his Brothers high should they need it and his order, the Mahtaron were an integral part of Chapter ceremony. Thinking of such things sent him into a reverie of a past that was not his he was sure but it felt so intense. There were words in this waking dream, words of slaughter and destruction, words of oblivion. They would crush them all, kill, slaughter, maim!

"Brother?" Laran snapped out of it with a start and looked sideways at Rant who was giving him a perplexed look. "Something wrong?"

"No. No. The Prophets say incres[EXCOMMUNICATE] animi, virescit volnere virtus; The spirits increase, vigour grows through a wound. I will talk to the stripling now." He lurched away toward the Destroyer, shaking his head like an ox to clear his strange thoughts.

"Salvé Brother?"

"Artos. And you Brother?"

"Laran. We see that you are troubled. We are all brothers here Artos. What ails you?"

The Destroyer paused, uncertainty writ on his features. It was obvious that he wanted to speak but his warrior's pride in front of strangers held his tongue. Laran placed a hand on Artos' shoulder and gripped the rim of the pauldron. He stepped next to the younger Astartes and looked off into the middle distance.

"There are many strange and dangerous things one must do to even get to the Fortress Monestary of my Chapter, many long and arduous paths must be trod for those who seek entrance. Only the strongest make it. Many try and many fail and when the Artath moon glows bright those who wish to try head south. We were all brave but we were only boys. We were all wounded and exhausted, we were all frightened. But we did not arrive to a warm welcome or a reprieve.

"The halls were dizzying in their size, I had never seen men build anything other than mud huts but that place seemed to go on forever, we could not see the ceiling it was so high and I thought, after my long trek through the dark earth to reach that place that I had walked into hell. When He came to greet us I thought a demon had risen from the shadows to claim all our souls. Ha, perhaps one had.

"We were all frightened but we stood together against Him, a black giant. He did not welcome us nor offer succour. He walked to the nearest of us who had a broken leg, badly tended to and asked, 'Are you in pain?' but the boy was too sick to speak and only nodded. He grabbed his leg and we heard the bones splinter, and the boy screamed himself unconscious. He died. We quailed. Then He looked to the rest of us, 'Pain is your future, Fear is your life.' It was the only thing He said."

Laran shook Artos' pauldron gently and nodded, the burning eyes of his helmet still staring before they flicked to look at the Destroyer.

"I have never forgotten my fear Destroyer, I remember it every day. Whatever thing you did Brother, it will never leave you, just as that day has never left me but fear is not our enemy, a man who isn't afraid is too stupid to live. Remember your fear Brother for it is a part of you. We may be Astartes but to attack your fear is folly, for fear is a foe you cannot defeat. You must make it your ally for your fear is you and you are your fear. I hope my words hold some meaning for you Brother, but know one thing, you are not alone. We are all Deathwatch now."

Artos swallowed, then nodded. When he spoke, his voice was husky.

"Thankyou, my brothers. It gives me heart to see your support."

He paused.

"I made a vow when I arrived. I will make it again. I will not fail you my brothers."

Kraven listened discreetly as Laran and Rant spoke to Artos from his position near another Drop Pod and made a mental note to keep an eye on the uncertain Destroyer.

He watched as the Deathwind Pods were loaded up and positioned further off in the bay by Inquisitional work crews and the few remaining Deathwatch team members assemble and begin deciding which pods to take and with whom.

Demos strode away from the group heading for a singular drop pod already secured within was the vast form of Sirus, he patted the dreadnaughts armoured hide before turning back and observing the task force from a distance breaking them into squads in his mind, Matthias moved to him handing him the heavy flamer he took it swinging the weapon up onto his shoulder with ease as strode towards the Drop Pod in the centre of their three, the one Rant had placed himself in, as he strode he spoke his voice raising high filling the bay.

"Ancient Lords of Haemos, Fathers of our Clans past
My Father and My Emperor,
Bath me in your golden light
Guide my hand in battle
Make my aim true and my arm strong
Let all those before me stand in fear for they know I do your bidding
For I am your Templar
Your warrior
And above all I swear that in your name
Blood will Flow."

He stepped up to the pod and deposited the heavy weapon in the cradle beside his locking it into place, pulling a vial from his effects on his belt he drove the spike built into it deep into his neck depressing an activation rune the vial filled with his blood, releasing it he looked around the task force.

"Helmets on and mount up brothers and pray to the machine spirits and the Emperor that our chariots carry us true."

He slid his helmet on and stepped into his cradle locking himself in place, the command console fell in front of his and he cycled the pod engines bringing it to life. He watched as the others climbed in locking themselves into place the close the hatch catching the other pods doing the same as the world went black then red as the pods internal lights illuminated.

"See you on the ground brothers."

He triggered the launch sequence an the pod started to rumble as they were loaded into the tubes, keying his vox he spoke.

"Matthias, if there is no vox signals within ten minutes launch the deathwinds, and brother Sirus five minutes after that."

"Understood Captain."

He ran through the launch procedure then he punched the launch command and the pod accelerated at an exponential rate as they left the strike cruiser.

++Scarre++

++PDF Regional Headquarters – Designated 'Safehaven'++

++Currently held by Tau and Rebel PDF forcers++

++Sector 17 – Human habitation++

Colonel Tiberius Sommer was the commanding officer of those humans who had defected from the Imperium into the Embrace of the Tau Empire, it had been him who'd convince his entire battalion to turn coat and wage war against their kinsmen, and it fell upon his shoulders to show them the light the Tau offered. Their technology unbound by the archaic religion of the Adepts of Mars was far in advance of the Imperium, and he had to take the hard line to ensure that his people saw the light.

He was pacing through the Human Habitation to the Tau, sector 17 to the humans on his way to the morning inspection a life in the PDF had taught him the rigors of discipline and routine and he was a stickler for such, but even by his standards the tau were far beyond him or any human, he'd formed the alliance and as such they had rewarded him for his loyalty with a modified suit of armour and a pulse carbine, his personal guard a dozen other men that had once been trained assault specialists had also been gifted with such technology making their a force to be reckoned with. He rounded the last corner where the morning detail troop of men stood waiting for their inspection before they could relive the nigh[EXCOMMUNICATE]ch of they guard detail. A series of booms drew his attention looking towards the outer walls he keyed the vox built into his armour.

"Are we under attack?"

"Negative sir."

The wall detail reported nothing untoward and his eyes went skyward as the clouds split as fires tumbled to the world.

"What the hell are they?"

"Meteor storm?"

"Only three, it's not possible and they are heading for... Holy Throne! Take Cover!"

++

"Impact in ten seconds, inertia thrusters firing!"

Demos braced himself as the thrusters fired shaking the drop pod the altitude counter in his helm told him that the landing was imminent, the pod screamed as it impacted close to sixty feet above the ground, they' struck a building the floors tearing away as they came to a stop. Disengaging the restraining clamps he stood up fully hefting the heavy flamer he'd chosen as his first wave firearm.

"Hatches deploying strike team prepare to move."

++

Sommer and the morning detail moved towards the nearest impact a building had been hit, one of the barracks buildings, it would have been filled with men resting from the late detail, he despaired at their loss it was a great blow to his troopers stationed here.

"Get fire control over here now!"

"What is the situation Colonel?"

He stopped turning and bowing his head quickly as a group of firewarriors approached.

"A Meteor Shas'la it's hit one of my barrack buildings with men inside."

"It was not a meteor colonel, our relays picked up metal and life forms."

++

"Deathwatch! Forward!"

He stepped from the drop pod about him were dead bodies shattered and broken from the impact of the pod he guessed they' struck a barracks building judging by the furniture littered about the place dust and steam filled his vision but he was astrates and his helm compensated switching visuals he could see heat signatures and clear as day.

"Cleanse and Destroy"

Striding up the rubble he cleared the dust his vision snapping back to normal before him lay squads of men and a single group of the blue skinned Tau conversing with the Human officer, he armed the weapon as they noticed his presence but it was too late for the closest of them as he fired the heavy flamer washing them in burning promethium, striding down into their midst amongst the screams of agony he continued to wash the throngs before him his ears picking up the sharp shouts that raised the alarm, the others followed their weapons adding to the chaos and the noise, his weapon bled dry quickly and he dropped it his bolter swinging round from it's shoulder strap into his waiting hand, levelling the weapon he fired dropping a dozen in the first hail of fire, a glance left and right told him the others had joined him forming a solid line Brother Kurtis stood to his left a heavy bolter barking in his hands as he walked forward. He paused as he took in his surroundings.

"Xenos Bane start the second wave."

He didn't hesitate for a reply instead he threw himself into the PDF with a vicious roar his powerfist shattering bodies as it swung he caught the sight of crisis suits taking to the air and roared his orders at Kurtis.

"Bring them down!"

Obeying without question the Angel swung his heavy weapon skywards and unleashed a salvo of death at the Tau Battlesuits bring one down like a poor mimic of their own fiery decent to the ground, another tumbled away but the third vanished from sight and Kurtis turned his gun back on the rebel PDF troopers who fell away under the fury of their sudden attack. Demos pulled the vial from his waist he dropped it stamping on it to spill the blood, over his vox he spoke.

"This world has tasted the blood of Astartes, It shall have no more instead it will have to be slated with the blood of the Xenos and the Traitor, Kill them all!"

His bolter barked as he strode forward forcing the breach even more.

Laran felt the mag-clamps on his shoulder and then he was out of the drop pod. Men were screaming as they burned and roar of another heavy bolter caught his attention. Spears of fire belched from the barrel and the ugly lumpen shapes of Tau battle suits crashed from the sky. Xenos-

"-SCUM!" The amplifier in the muzzle of his helmet screamed out his shout. The thick smoke from the still burning bodies churned and swirled under the sonic assault and then his heavy bolter was coughing out its own warcry.

"The Emperor's Wrath is upon you!" Men went down blasted into steaming chunks of gore and offal. "Plead for Redemption!" One of the apothegms of his Chapter whether it was aimed at the enemy or themselves was hard to say.

He slammed another magazine into the gun, he only had the hellfires after that. Tau Fire Warriors caught these last few bolts their armour like tinfoil. Each bolt made a hollow boom as it was shot then a scream as the rocket kicked in followed by a crackling explosion as the armour piercing tip shredded the target. Each of Tau was falling, already dead before a wet blast tore them to pieces, syrupy cyan blood splattered everywhere.

"Eat some you miserable fish-heads!"

The next magazine hit the stone and he slammed in the hellfires. He had hoped for kroot and lo the Emperor provided them. Their unarmoured forms jumped and volted through the dark with bird-like whoops. A few bullets from their primitve rifles spanged off his armour as he watched them come on and then he unleashed the heavy bolter. The hellfire bolts whistled before smashing over the kroot that shrieked in agony. Bio-acids melted their flesh but Laran wanted the human traitors to feel some of the pain too and finished off the scrawny alien mercenaries with a frag grenade.

He turned back, aiming at the humans and roared something unintelligible before emptying the last of the hellfirs into them. They would be more protected thanks to their armour but the splashing toxins coated them in burning liquids. They dropped their weapons clutching at their faces, some pitching over the battlements in their mad desperation. Laran laughed as he watched them die.

"You served me well, may the Omnisiah watch over you until we are finished here." He placed the exhausted heavy weapon down reverently and scooted the empty magazines toward it with his boot. If clear up teams were sent to recover the drop pods they would find the back breaker too.

Laran growled as enemy fire hit his armour but now he was in his element. He readied Kah'Brosh, connecting himself to the ancient weapon. He let loose an bellow like that of an enraged bull grox that staggered the foes before him, the feedback of Kah'Brosh growled and purred, the sounds practically dripping from the barrel. Before they could recover from the first blast they were hit again by a pulsing squeal that dropped them all to their knees. The closest man clutched at his ears as blood poured from his nose and eyes.

Laran advanced slowly his fingers plucking the wires of Kah'Brosh the howling electrical grunts ripping into the traitor before the pulses changed again, poppoppoppoppop, the air thrummed at the human convulsed in a fit so violent he broke his own spine, his brain turning to mush under the assault. Those behind faired only mildly better but half a dozen were caught in the war song of Kah'Brosh, shouts from Laran helping keep them down.

The final battlesuit didn't get far at all.

Sighting it along the lascannon's range-finder, Rant's opening shot cut the battlesuit in half, the shorn halves still flying through the air for a brief moment before tumbling downwards in a heap of blazing metal.

His drop pod hatch had practically opened into a wall that had collapsed against it, and Rant finally unbuckled his leg restraints as the battlesuit went down, kicking hard against the lip of the hatch to allow him a proper exit. With a single collected motion Rant hurled himself out of the drop pod and came down with a crash on his left side, keeping the impact well away from the lascannon mechanism, before firing another blast from his prone position and cremating a pair of figures where they stood.

As Rant picked himself up and rose into a crouch, he noted with no small distaste that the Tau had recruited human forces to do their bidding, but to fire upon them with his lascannon would only waste ammunition, and opportunities to take out enemy armour. Dimly, he contemplated switching to his bolter early, but he couldn't lift the lascannon in just one hand, much less use the other to fire his bolter.

Shouldering his lascannon for a few brief seconds, Rant plucked a frag grenade from its dispenser on his belt and lobbed it at the enemy, sliding the lascannon back into his free hand in the same motion and just hoping that the Tau might call in their armoured support.

He shuffled over towards Laran and set up a firing position behind his brother, his hand straying back toward his grenade dispenser as the enemy tried to fight back.

"Impact in five, BRACE!" Kraven bellowed as he opened his mouth and relaxed his body in preparation.

Moments after the warning the entire pod crashed into the ground shaking the passengers heavily within despite the foam brace that deployed to lessen the blow. Ignoring the rattled feeling and the twinge in his augmentation joints Kraven nimbly released his straps and leapt from his drop pod which had landed roughtly 88 metres from Captain Demos and his team according to his helmet auspex.

Once his feet touched the ground and as his helmets auto-senses instantly filtered the dust and sun glare he surveyed his surroundings, the first thing he saw being a platoon  of PDF standing, or in some cased sprawled on the ground, at the entrance of their barracks less than ten feet away, shocked at the earth shaking landing and his eerie appearance through the dust said landing had thrown up.

"NONE CAN STAND BEFORE THE FURY OF THE RIGHTOUS!" was Kraven's reaction before he depressed the trigger of his Heavy Bolter and loosed a storm of kraken rounds into the guardsmen who had enough time to realized how screwed the where before their command squad and their first two squads were pulped like rotten fruit and their barracks front wall was repainted and ventilated. The last remaining NCO's ordered for their men to take cover but as it was designed to the Deathwatch's rapid landing via drop pod had caught the unit unprepared and out in the open...easy prey for Kraven's heavy weapon.

Once the last guardsman, who begged and cried for mercy whilst splattered in the remains of his former comrades, was finished with a swift kick to the sternum, snapping him like a twig, Kraven turned to see how his new battle-brothers fared.

Artos clambered out of the seat. The enemy was close. His mind began to speed up, filling with anger and fury and the need to kill.

Dimly, he registered Rant firing his lascannon, and Laran firing his heavy bolter.

He searched for enemies.

A number of kroot, standing in front of a group of PDF troopers. He charged.

His knife flashed, taking the life of a foul xenos before the rest could realise what was happening. Then they saw him, and the battle sped up.

They danced around his armoured form, searching for a weak point. They were fast.

But he was faster.

He spun around. his blade flickering out and taking enemies in the throat, the head, the chest. The last one managed to knock aside his blade.

He grabbed the unfortunate kroot with his left fist, his fingers curling around the front of its skull. He squeezed and the kroot's head shattered like an over-ripe melon.

He picked up his knife and ran towards the group of now terrified humans.

He could see them cowering. Small, weak, not strong like other enemies. These were not enemies.

These were prey.

He hit their lines like a thunderbolt. 

Hunrik reviewed the schematics of the enemy base as the drop-pod plummeted through the atmosphere. He held an innate dislike for drop-pods, it was the lack of personal control over their journey more than anything else, his chapter had had only a few recorded incidents in its entire history of deploying by this method - much preferring airborne assault from thunderhawks.

With a roar the retros kicked in hard, rapidly decelerating the pod from terminal velocity as it burst from the clouds with the other two craft.

Seconds later the drop-pod crunched into the ground, mag-locks releasing Deathwatch from their harnesses and hatches smashing down onto the hard packed dirt as the marines charged out to confront their foe.

Barely twenty meters away one of the Tau Devilfish grav-tanks sat on its landing gear facing them, its commander popped his hatch to look at the scene before him. An expression Hunrik could only guess as being dumbstruck upon his blue-skinned face. Before the Tau had a chance to react further the veteran had swung his heavy bolter up and fired a short burst at the alien, shredding its body and blowing its skull apart.

He advanced on the tank as its two gun drones came to life, opening fire with their pulse carbines on the marines deploying from the pod. Hunrik started reciting the Rite of Hatred through his external speaker as he fired off another controlled burst from the heavy bolter, smashing one of the drones to pieces.

Pain filled his world suddenly as several shots hit him from the Devilfishes burst cannon, two breaching his chest armour while a third smashed into his throat. The litany stopped as he crashed to the ground. The world spun, warning symbols flashed across his helmet optics, reporting the armour breaches and his injuries. His vision went in and out of focus, a painful cough splattered blood across the inside of his helmet.

The blood had already stopped flowing from his wounds as he ripped his helmet off without ceremony. Gunfire blazed back and forth over where he lay on his side as the deathwatch engaged the enemy. Another agonising cough sprayed blood across the dirt. They had been powerful close-range shots that had struck him. Hunriks breathing was laboured, he suspected at least one lung was damaged, possibly two, along with the throat wound causing major damage.

His vision went out of focus again, a devastating headache racking his brain as the blood flow adjusted itself to compensate for the lost arteries.

A hefty pair of black boots appeared next to him, looking up, Hunriks vision came back into focus enough for him to recognise Captain Corvin stood over him, gun blazing away at the enemy as he called out for the medic.

Hunrik coughed blood across Corvins boots then slumped over unconscious.

 Peleus saw brother Hunrik go down and let out a howl of rage. How dare the scum harm another of his brothers he advanced on the Xenos vehicle fireing his plasma cannon as he went. He deliberatly allowed the scanners on the heretical vehical to pick him up so that he would draw fire from his wounded brother.
2 shots took out the last drone and then 3 more disabled one of the transports engine. the resulting explostion destroyed the sensors which aimed the fearsome xenos cannon.
In his anger at the Xenos he forgot about the draw back of all plasma weapons and only remebered it when a high pitched squealing  warned him that the cannon was about to go critical. He unstapted the ammunition back pack and launched the entire weapon and pack at the transport. It landed on top of it's armoured drivers slit, bounced once then exploded gauging a hole in the ground around where the transport had been moments before. With a shout of rage he drew his trusted weapons and charged at an unfortunate group of traitor troopers being led by a piece of bipedal blue skinned  filth and began to bring the Emporers wrath with all his might. His claw crackled as it tore through armour and bodies as he crashed into the enemy.

In the light of the exploding plasma cannon, Rant almost saw the Tau vehicle being torn apart like a paper doll. Something in the vehicle must have overloaded after Brother Peleus' reckless assault, and the explosion must have catalysed it. Bits of charred wreckage rained into the blazing crater where the tank had been sitting moments before.

While effective, the attack had been wasteful, and it almost seemed to Rant as though his brother had deliberately overloaded the gun. As it was, he was lucky that it hadn't exploded in his hands.

As if about to show Peleus how it should be done, while at the same time not caring in the slightest, Rant took aim through the range-finder as another Devilfish lurched into the air, turning almost ponderously to face the Deathwatch. Its burst cannon was revolving, powering up to fire, and the two gun drones swivelled in their cradles, angling their own guns in their direction as the Devilfish continued to rise.

The grav-tank's engines were exposed on the side of the boxy vehicle, and Rant's attention snapped away from the spinning burst cannon for a split-second, just long enough to alter his aim and pull the trigger. The familiar lance of brightness flashed out and drilled a hole in the Devilfish's engine pod just as the burst cannon fired. Bright blue pulses of energy soared overhead as the Devilfish yawed, its one good thruster driving it onto its side as it swung out to the right. The drone in its starboard cradle squawked as it smashed apart against the earth, a mere second before the entire Devilfish flipped onto its back with a horrible metallic crunching noise. The second drone fell out of its cradle and broke apart like the first.

Predictably, the burst cannon stopped firing.

75% power became 66% as Rant swung around and fired again, noticing the Pirahnas a split-second before his brothers and destroying one almost instantly.

It made sense that the Tau would respond by sending fast attack units like the Pirahnas, but how long might it take for the Tau to start bringing in heavier units? Until the Deathstorm fell, the Deathwatch would be on their own against an army.

Martell had encountered problems on hitting the ground.  Like Rant, his door had opened into a wall.  This one was the side of a bunker though, and made of sterner stuff.  The door opened 45 degrees and stopped, not leaving enough of an opening for him to get out.  As the mag-clamps disengaged from his armour, he threw his shoulder against the door, before realising that it would not budge.  Bracing himself, he brought up the multimelta, took a deep breath, then triggered a one-second burst at virtually point blank range.  The radiation alarms in his armour began to shriek at him, his photo-reactive autosenses cut out all vision to prevent him being blinded by the glare, and he could feel the heat through the thick ceramite of his armour.  When vision returned, a large section of the pods door had been obliterated by the sub-atomic energy blast.  The barrel of the weapon was scorched into rainbow patterns, but the contruction of the Mechanicus had held.  Not for the first time, he thanked the Emperor for looking well upon their efforts.

Ducking through the opening, he was just in time to notice one Devilfish fall to a massive burst of plasma, then another gunned down by Rant's lascannon.  He hefted his own weapon, and was rewarded when the roar of engines preceded the arrival of three small skimmers.  Burst cannon fire blazed from two, but the third carried a fusion cannon.  The stream of energy shot out, seeking to destroy the lightning-clawed figure slicing his way through the nearest group of traitors.  Fortunately, he lunged at the right moment and the blast passed harmlessly a mere foot from his pauldrom and less harmlessly into the chest of their Tau leader.  The fragile alien fell to the ground, reduced to legs, arms and a head.

Raising the multimelta, Martell claimed his first kills of the campaign.  His own beam of energy lanced out, cutting the craft in half.  Shorn of weight and pilot, the separated engines leapt forward and crashed into the rear of the one in front, slewing it round.  The stricken Piranha recovered briefly before the next blaze of white power pierced both engine pods.  Rant had already taken the third down with his lascannon by the time he tracked to it.

One of the recently vacated drop pods suddenly crumpled backwards as if hit by an enormous invisible fist, followed a second later by a loud crack.  It was a sound any member of the Deathwatch with experience fighting the Tau knew well.  The heavy armour was on its way, and they needed to find cover.

A loud crack, and, right at the edge of Artos' enhanced hearing, a low boom.

Artos cocked his head, then dove to one side as another railcannon shot was fired, this one missing the marines and the drop-pods, taking out a bunker instead.

The shock cleared his mind. He activated his vox-unit.

++The enemy's heavy tanks have arrived brothers. Seek cover. I suggest we begin moving towards the objective++ 

++Agreed++, came the replies of his brothers.

The Tau Hammerhead tanks were deadly, with a long range and powerful weaponry. They would have to be careful.

"Agreed, Corvin take half the force head for the primary objective I'll take the rest and seal the gate."

He stepped from cover his powerfist pulverising an unlucky Firewarrior as he stepped into the path of a Pariah, the crew opened fire their pulse rounds impacting against his armour, the internal spirit of his armour complained against the punishment, as the vehicle banked away he leapt forward into it's path slamming his fist into it's prow the power fields shock buckle the armoured hull punching his hand through into the engine core which ignited exploding around him engulfing his form in a ball of flame. 

Striding from the wreckage his armour aflame he strode forward gun barking as he back handed a human sending his crushed body twisting through the air.

"Rant with me, your las cannon will be of use."

He fired again emptying the bolter he dropped the magazine from it using the weapon he bludgeoned a tau aside then slid a new one into place and started firing again cutting down half a dozen Tau, he twisted a las shot impacting against his shoulder plate and corrected his stance a growl escaping his lips his eyes picked out the shooter a human behind a las cannon the shot had clipped him but it was enough to stagger him, charging his fist almost tore the human in half he turned as something landed behind him dragging the las cannon he smashed the weapon into the heavy suit sending it sprawling three shots ended it, his eyes adjusted as the stealth field died.

"Stealth Suits!"

He risked a look up as the next wave of drop pods rained down he counted twenty pods his eyes following as the crashed across the strongholds outer defences several landing within the inner walls and his enhanced ears picked out the rapid retorts of the assault cannons firing. He caught a kroot as it leapt at him his powerfist closing around it's throat even as it stabbed at him with it's crude dagger.

"Send in the Gale."

His vox came to life the bead from Xenos Bane.

"Confirmed ETA two minutes."

With a final flex the Kroot's throat exploded, and he pushed on signalling for those to follow as he ducked down between two barracks.

Peleus barely noticed the  heat of energy fly past him from the fusion cannon as he sliced his way through the scum. As he heard of the heavy armour he grunted his affermative then stopped for a split second to look around. He noticed numerous bunkers to take cover in then saw Hunrik lieing in the open.
As he ran to help his brother, Peleus shook his head scolding himself for letting his reckless hate get in the way of his duty to his brothers again. He skidded to a halt on his knees next to hunrik fired off the rest of his magasine at the numerous traitor PDF troops trying to take him and his wounded brother out and then picked up Hunrik and ran to the nearest bunker as the first hammerhead apeared at the end of the street.

When they were safely in cover Peleus carefully placed Hunrik on the ground, then dressing the most obvious wounds, asked
'Where does it hurt Brother?'

Laran kicked his way through a heavy door and flooded the corridor with a sonic scream that sent those within into agonising spasms. He saw a Tau at the end of the corridor and locked eyes with it. It wasn't a warrior, probably an Earth Caste engineer by the looks of it and it stood petrified, unable to look away from Laran's gigantic armoured form. No doubt, his bestial helmet, burning eyes and hunched feral shape easily overwhelmed the worker's courage keeping it rooted to the spot.

Still looking at the diminutive Tau he bellowed into the face of the nearest human soldier. Everyone in the corridor was severely disabled from his initial attack but at this range his extended bark of rage and hatred sent the downed trooper into another violent fit until his eyes exploded and frothy blood poured out of his head. It was an attack designed to provoke the utmost fear in the Tau watching, for the mighty human warrior it was staring at needed only a word to kill his enemies.

"You'd better run little Tau, the Emperor's Wrath is indiscriminate." He stood up and began to advance and the worker finally regained some control of itself and fled.

Other Tau rushed into the corridor, warriors this time, but Laran was far too close for their unwieldy rifles to be brought to bear. He grabbed the nearest, crushing the delicate barrel in his fist and slammed a palm into the Tau's head. The other tried to fire but a back hand sent it flying into the corridor. More Tau personnel were there, scrambling to finish some vital duty or simply to escape. Time for another gruesome display.

The Tau tried to stand and fight but another dismissive blow sent it sprawling into the wall, it tripped over its own clumsy hooves and fell on its backside. One arm against the wall, one on the floor it pulled itself in closer to the wall, bracing itself for the inevitable but Laran was not going to simply kill his opponent.

He snatched for the Tau and it struggled with him but against the strength of an Astartes the Tau's attempts were pathetic. It squirmed loose but Laran caught hold of its leg, dragging it back with a squawk of its helmet mic. He ripped the Tau's helmet off and threw it down the corridor sending it bouncing and scuffling away like a plastek bowl.

The Tau shouted as it was dragged towards the hulking Marine and he jabbered back mocking the Tau's odd, glottic language. Laran flipped the Tau over and put one arm around its waist and it continued to jabber until he dug the fingers of his free hand into its skull. It cried out and moaned as shock sent the tiny creature into spasm. There were several Tau watching in mute horror and Laran took off his own helmet and sank his teeth into the Tau's exposed brain. He peeled away a chunk along with the brain sac and he heard the sound of vomiting in the distance. He spat out the bloody membrane and began to eat, great mouthfuls emptying the skull quickly.

He let the body flop to the floor, and fumbled with his helmet, quickly replacing it and closed his eyes, sending himself into a trance in order to unlock some of the Tau's memory. It was disjointed and confusing, and such a low level warrior knew very little. He was dimly aware of something tapping his armour but ignored as he sifted through the more coherent memories, those most used. He saw the barracks block, the mess and most of one level of the base and up onto the ramparts and an armoury filled with explosives.

He shuck his head and realised the tapping was pulse shots thumping into his chest. The neat holes were still steaming and he picked up Kah'Brosh and lashed all around with a destructive cacophony that sent papers flying and machines sparking. He was too far away to effect all his attackers so he charged, blasting out chords as he went and shouting prayers to the Emperor.

Demos stepped into the bunker behind Peleus his bolter firing over his brother marines head he strode past the two looking down as he went.

"Get his patched up and on his feet."

"Yes Captain."

He pushed on moving to the end of the bunker his fist connected with the wall smashing a large chunk free he exited into quiet behind the enemy's tanks with a look around he stalked towards the closest hammer head as it's main gun fired, he flinched for a second as he link to the rest of the squad flickered for a second, his helmet display told him everyone was still active and alive their life signs still strong, even Hunrik's despite the wound to his throat.

Striding up to the tank his powerfist crackled with barely contained energy when it impacted against the rear of the tank the hull buckled and spilt, a second blow opened up a hole large enough for him to toss in a frag grenade, immediately after the detonation he tossed in a krak grenade and ducked round the tank as the detonation tore the hull open like the bowels of some leviathan.

"Squad push on to your objectives, the tanks will have little effect in this terrain."

He sent a second signal calling Rant, Kurtis, Artos and Kraven to him the rest he designate to Crovin's command, and the objective of the Central Bastion and the tau command, his target was somewhat less glorious but all so more important, the gate his eyes fell upon it in the distance, it lay open giving the forces of the stronghold free run to reinforce and supply their force.

A loud explosion brought his attention round, smoke drifted from some impact in the short distance, a loud voice crackled over the vox network.

++I am the death that walks, The eternal Gale, I am Sirus and I long for war!++

He killed that link and nodded in respect as the sound of an assault cannon came to his ears. His attentive hearing alerted him to something in the distance and he turned to face it, a deep green crisis suit similar to that of the Dark Angles heraldry stood before him, it was a non-standard design a pair of plasma weapons mounted on one arm in a twin linked set up, the other bore a flamer unit, it levelled the plasma weapons at him and fired  his shoulder moved instinctively ducking the blast as it seared past blistering the paint of his armour, as he stood again he fired his bolter the shots exploding before the suit.

"Shields, a cowards defence."

He charged the suit as Kurtis rounded a corner his heavy bolter discarded and his own bolter and chain sword in his hands, Kurtis gave him cover as he charged the round detonating on the shield as his own had done, he leapt powerfist roaring through the air the suit leapt to the air jet packs burning as it fled weapon firing, the suit caused a good hit against him the shot punching a hole in his armour between the chest plate and shoulder his blood boiling from the heat of the plasma weapon, he roared and returned fire despite his arm being wounded, he'd received worse in his life this would be a trifle, a trial to make the battle more of a challenge for him, the suit dropped behind a bunker and he turned his fire against a group of humans rushing towards them activating his vox as he did.

"Tau senior commander sighted, green crisis suit, non-standard configuration, the bastard is shielded from ranged attack."

He looked to Kurtis.

"My thanks little brother."

Kurtis nodded back

"The gate awaits us."

"Shielded from ranged attacks, but can simply flee from close combat," Rant observed, sniping at an errant Pirahna as it passed overhead. The small craft spiralled out of control, a glowing gash torn in its underside. Flames flickered from the wound as the craft ploughed into the ground several metres behind their position, crashing upside down and smearing its crew across the ground in a streak of blue blood.

"So, proposal."

"Brother, I tire of your proposals," Demos sighed, "but out with it."

"Enemy shield most likely designed to protect from small arms and light artillery. So, can use lascannon to put strain on shield, possibly breach it. Can kill enemy commander or at least cripple battlesuit."

"Brother--"

"Take cover!" Artos shouted, interrupting Demos' argument, and the Deathwatch scrambled for cover as a spray of explosive projectiles churned up the ground around them. A clod of burning mud slapped against Rant's shoulderguard but he paid it no heed.

Rant whirled around as the Hammerhead lurched off the ground some seventy metres away, its engines rumbling as it rose into the air. It was an ugly thing, sharing the boxy, somewhat bulbous chassis of the smaller Devilfish, but the drones in the cradles were devoted to carrying a pair of heavy burst cannon, slaved to a targeting module in the Hammerhead's prow. On top of the tank, Rant caught sight of the Hammerhead's main gun, a massive railgun as long as the tank itself. Flat and wide, the railgun's heavy projectiles would be accelerated to several times the speed of sound, easily capable of punching a hole straight through a tank and liquefying the crew from high-velocity decompression. It could also project a cluster of smaller projectiles in a spread, as it had just done, saturating a wide area with high-explosive submunitions.

For something so ugly, the Hammerhead was a feared tank-killer and reaper of infantry all at once, and constituted a vital threat. In the dense terrain, its burst cannons could easily make a mess of the kill-team and the railgun's submunitions would be truly devastating.

A shot from Rant's lascannon impacted upon the railgun, putting it out of action, but the Hammerhead itself was still moving, its burst cannons still tracking the Deathwatch, opening fire at fifty metres and stitching a line towards Rant as the targeting module corrected the drones' aim. Earth sprayed upwards in clumps as the burst cannons traced their way towards him, impeding his aim, and Rant paused for the briefest moment to ensure that the Hammerhead was still in his sights. It was drawing closer and Rant could almost pick out the cyclopean viewscreen atop its prow, protecting the Hammerhead's pilot from the world outside.

"Brother, get down!" Demos yelled. Rant ignored him, finally lining up the perfect shot and pulling the trigger just as burst cannon shots smashed into his greaves. The impacts rocked him, but he held firm as his shot speared straight through the tiny viewscreen and incinerated the Hammerhead's pilot. The Hammerhead swayed, the burst cannons still firing, and it nosedived, gouging a furrow along the ground with a terrific crunch. The aft section slammed down and the tank bounced before coming to a halt.

Rant finally noticed that his greaves had been breached, and his knee flared up in sudden pain as he tried to turn back to his brothers. A strangulated grunt filtered up the vox as the armour's internal painkiller stimms kicked in.

"That was reckless," Demos snarled, "and nigh-on suicidal, Brother-Sergeant."

"Grav-tank neutralised, Commander," Rant answered with a shrug. "Worth risk to silence lethal weaponry."

Rant counted just over 40% charge remaining for his lascannon, enough for five more shots. He planned to make those five shots count before switching over to his bolter, although in the confines of a military complex he would be starved of worthwhile targets, unless the enemy brought up battlesuits, or their commander appeared again.

"But no time for recriminations," Rant observed. "Gate is open. But looks like trap."

Peleus patched up Hunriks wounds as Demos stormed through the bunker and gave him a multi shot to help speed his recovery then helped him on to his feet.

'this os no time for a nap' he said as he ran to the next bunker which would provide cover for him on his way to the objective, reloading and fireing as he went.
as he kicled down the door 3 PDF troops nd a tau warrior tried to bring their weapons round to gun him down. Peleus dived forward and tackled 2 of the traitors to the ground. The forc of his geneticaly enhanced body smashing them to the floor broke their backs.  he span around and saw the barrel of a pulse rifle pointed t his head

Demos allowed himself a smile, Rant was reckless but his results spoke for themselves, he stood a short distance from the Iron Hand looking at the gate, he agreed the Gate could be a trap but that didn't change the objective, close it seal the enemy outside the Inner compound outside.

He turned to regard to the Iron Hand his eyes locking onto his target.

"Rant!"

The Iron Hand turned to regard him as he brought his bolter to bear on the Iron Hand, Rant reacted by swinging his Las Cannon round but he was too slow as Demos opened fire the rounds missing Rant by centimetres as Demos fired past him into the enemy beyond. Once Demos had ceased firing Rant turned looking at the Steal Suit a combat blade held in it's off hand the glow of the blade dying as the tau holding it expired.

Demos stepped up beside Rant removing his helmet he hooked it on his belt and knelt down beside the dead tau.

"This suit is not a normal stealth suit."

"No, suit is lighter than regular stealth units."

Demos reached out tearing the helm from the tau a few moments later he scooped the brain matter into his mouth feasting upon the grey matter. He stood wiping the gore from his face.

"Their disposition at the gate is heavy, they are using it as a staging point for reinforcements this is where this one came from, he's unique though a special forces unit specialising is removing enemy commanders, the Tau coordinating the counter attack is the green suited crisis suit, he's commanding the human colonel as he brings up some heavy tanks from the outer compound, those gates must be closed at all costs."

"Gun Servitors would make good distraction."

He laughed slapping Rant's shoulder.

"You never give up do you Iron Hand, Servitors maybe a distraction but I can think of a more disruptive one."

He keyed his vox.

"Combat squad Alpha on my location now!"

He looked round as the others he'd chosen joined him.

"We have to close that gate, Kraven and I will see to that, Rant use your las cannon to destroy the gate motors once they are closed if they want in they'll have to blast their way in, Kurtis, Artos you're giving cover to Kraven and I then to Rant."

"Still matter of enemy staging ground."

He nodded keying his vox again.

"Xenos Bane this is Demos."

"Reading you."

Kurtis turned and opened fire quickly followed by Kraven and Artos as Demos and Rant stood.

"Prepare an Orbital strike, locked by mine or Brother Rant's targeting matrix."

"Preparing now."

He looked at Rant as the other three laid down a hail of fire at a squad of armoured humans.

"We select the biggest and most densely populated targets and let the rain of the Emperor's wraith cleanse them."

He replaced his helmet and joined the fire.

"Squad move, pattern Codex Sigma Twelve."

He backed away a few paces then stopped lobbing a frag grenade at the humans it detonated before hitting the ground showering the traitors in hot fragments. Kurtis moved next falling back further than Demos doing the same action the repeated by the others until they could break fully from the combat.

"Ammo check."

He had one full clip for his bolter left but still had five clips for his bolt pistol, more than  enough.

Artos moved up, seeming distant despite the fact that his face was hidden by his helmet.

"Don't worry Kraven. I'm still in control."

Kraven nodded. "Good to see. Now, cover me as I go in." 

"Affirmative."

Kraven began moving towards the gates, Artos keeping watch over his brother.

Martell rejoined the group as soon as he was able.  In the chaos of the battle he'd been drawn down a side street as a Crisis suit retreated away from his advance while spraying flame and pulse rounds back at him.  He had barrelled after it, soon rediscovering why he didn't like heavy weapons.  The multimelta was unwieldy in the cramped terrain, and it was difficult to bring to bear, especially as traitor and xenos alike tried to slow him.  In the event, he had simply run them down, trampling them into a red and blue mess on the ground.  Finally, the suit had made the mistake of trying to cross a courtyard, whereupon the massive gun had obliterated it's chest, vaporising the Tau inside.  It was only once there was no enemy in sight that he noticed the pain in his left arm.  A pulse round had pierced his armour at the left elbow seal, easily punching through the flexible covering.  The ceramic-reinforced bone had held, but by the feel of it there was substantial tissue damage.  The blood running down his silver bracer had clotted though.  He flexed the arm experimentally.  Maybe half strength in that arm until the Apothecaries could tend to it, and now he'd noticed the wound it hurt to stress the muscle.

Making his way back to the gates where the rest of his group were gathered, he checked the remaining fuel levels - perhaps three or four shots remained.  Without the large backpack reserve, the gun had quickly burned through it's internal supply.  As the others came into sight, it soon became clear that they were breaking off with the intention of heading through the gates.

The armoured humans were concentrated on the grenade-throwing Marines in front of them, believing themselves to have put the Emperor's finest to flight.  More than one had little chance to reconsider, as Martell barrelled into the back of them, his armoured boots smashing into backs and pulverising torsos into the ground.  Las-fire flashed into his armour as they tried to counter the monster charging through them, and frag shrapnel rattled off the massive pauldrons as his brothers kept throwing, confident in the armour's ability tot protect him.  He felt the sting of a las-bolt penetrating the right knee joint of his armour, but it had expended enough energy that it did little more than leave a burn, and by then he was through.

Continuing to run, he voxed ahead to Demos.
"Forgive me for becoming side-tracked, sir.  I still have some heavy firepower left before I switch to bolter and chainaxe.  Where do you need me?"

Kraven kept pace with the squad as it moved in formation on the gate his bolter snapping off single rounds that claimed a life each time, his heavy bolter and ammo pack last been seen by him pinning a guardsman's legs and breaking them under its weight.

As he continued to snipe and targets he could spot he noticed a pair of figures shadowing the group to their far left, well out of range of their bolters. He got a good view of the pair for a moment and found them not to be Fire Warriors but a single Tau female wielding a tubular object of some sort and a Tau male carrying a box with multiple lenses that was trying to keep the female between itself and the squad. It took him a second to realize what the pair were as he noticed the female xeno was almost constantly talking as she ran to keep up with the Deathwatch.

"Damned rememberer's are a menace among all races," he commented over the vox before loosing off a round and claiming another foolhardy human trooper. He indicated the pair to the others when they turned to him, properly in confusion, the action of the marines looking over causing the pair to go paler, stop and hide.

Peleus lashed put with his feet as he trew himself to the side. He felt a searing heat as the pulse rifle fhot him in the lower left abomin. His boot connected with the xenos' legs bending them the wrong way and as Peleus span round he fired 3 shots. the first hitting the ceiling the other 2 scoring solid hits on the  taus chest armour
Peleus quickly dispached thee final enemy in th building with his claw and the ran to the far side of the bunker when he heard a buzzing from behind him.
he turned and stabbed a blue insectoid creature in ghe gut the killed it with a swift pistol whip to the throat.
"Brothers I have come across a Xenos of vespid classifiction. Be advised wheres there's one there will be more.  so look  to the skys for enemies as well brothers."
With that he ran out of the biunker to rejoin the assault. Firing as he ran.

Artos was covering Kraven when he noticed something odd. Something that awoke an instinct born of the hardest fight for his survival he had ever had.

He aimed his bolter carefully. If he didn't get this right, the consequences would be dire.

He was aiming straight at the back of Kraven's head.

Demos reached the edge of the open space before the gate first he stopped just shy of stepping into full sight dipping behind what little cover there was on offer. Scanning the open space before the gates he froze if he'd been a normal human he would have baulked but as an marine his battle mind saw his target, a Baneblade sat waiting the vehicle it's self too large to move through the buildings but as an obstacle for them getting to the gate it was impressive, moving round the baneblade were massing human, tau and other xenos forces. He stepped back into full cover before his presence became known.

"Rant, are you in position?"

A quick reply followed confirming that Rant was targeting the Baneblade. Kurtis, Artos and Kraven fell in step behind him and he half turned to them.

"Kurtis move to Rant's flank prepare to give covering fire, Artos remain here, Kraven get ready."

He moved taking aim with his bolter.

"Xenos Bane, confirm target lock."

"Co-ordinates locked, preparing lance strike."

"Fire."

Someone spotted him shouting out an Alarm he considered shooting the human but it could throw off the strike instead Kraven stepped round and fired dropping the man, but too late more turned towards them and started to fire in their direction their round doing little against their armour Demos watched as the Baneblades main gun slowly traversed towards them. He counted the seconds as the gun moved bringing them into it's sights tau had started to fire upon them too their shots more accurate, Crisis Suits and Broadsides were moving as the clouds above them parted and crimson rain fell upon the staging ground the first strike missed the Baneblade the flare from the impact blacking out his auto reactive lenses another fell followed by another and another the noise filtered from his audio feeds to nothing save the vicious vibrations hammering through his armour into his very core. There was a long pause before his vision cleared and he stood panning the weapon round he saw the chaos they had rained down the Baneblade was gone a crater all that remained of it, dead littered the space before him but still there were many more alive, most in stages of death their skin burned and armour melted.

"It won't be long before the armour and those in suits are fully recovered."

He broke from cover rushing the space, in the open and through the smoke he could see the walls had taken hits from the lance strikes but they still stood as did the gates and gate house, he let the bolter swing about him pulling his bolt pistol free he charged on smashing aside a recovering Crisis suit as it tried to stand up right, within a matter of minutes he was inside the gatehouse his pistol levelled as he made his way deeper Kraven on his heels

MArtell charged the gates with the others, firing the last few blasts in the multimelta at ambushing Crisis suits before dropping it and drawing his chainaxe.  A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention.  Turning, he saw the strange sight of Artos levelling his bolter squarely at the back of Kraven's head.  Martell's eyes widened as he remembered the other Marine's confession.  There wasn't time to think, only act.

"No, Artos!" he shouted as he leapt forward, the back of the axe head sweeping up to knock the bolter off-target and send the bolt whooshing into the air before interposing himself between the two.  The chapter symbol of the Paladins Benevolent, a black shield bearing the red Maltese cross, seemed very fitting at this moment.  He had just enough time to hear the beginning of the confused, irritated, but totally sane protest from his brother-marine when the hammer fell and blotted out all other sound and vision, shaking the ground under them so hard building foundations cracked.

When the autosenses cleared, he looked up at Artos again.
"My apologies, brother.  I misjudged the situation.  It appears that it is time to take the gatehouse - tell me as we work."

Drawing his plasma pistol for the close quarters combat they'd find within the massive building, he revved the chainaxe experimentally.  It whined loudly, hungering for victims.  The tone deepened to a happy growl as it bit into the first recovering suit, and he was back in his element...

He had been unsure of himself when he had first met his fellow Deathwatch, but his brief time apart from them here in the thick of the action had allowed him to come back to himself. It was irrelevant who he fought alongside just so long as he fought. A warrior's purpose was to make war, anything else was a betrayal of that purpose and For Laran is was a betrayal of all his forebears, those Brothers from whom he was made and who themselves had been forged in battle and it was a betrayal of the Divine Vitae that flowed through his veins, an endowment granted by the Emperor Himself so that His Chosen could bring fire down on the galaxy forever.

Laran shouldered Kah'Brosh and revved up his chain-hammer. In the confines of the narrow corridors it was not the best weapon, he needed to get out, to be unleashed. He sprinted up a flight of metal stairs, the thin sheets protesting as his armoured bulk stormed up them and then he was into another corridor, heading for the roof. As he reached the exit he kneed a cowering Tau sending the puny thing spiralling away like a rag doll. He laughed mirthfully at the site of its scrawny limbs as it went cartwheeling over the battlements.

He thumped across the roof as the lance strike hit. The beams of energy seemed to shiver slowly through the air for a fraction of a moment before exploding into magnificent life. It was a sound half between dry sand, and wet fingers being dragged over a balloon, the squeaking static filled his ears with the pure sound of destruction and dazzled him with the glare of carnage.

He jumped, using an exposed pipe to catapault up and over the lip of a wall that led onto a narrow ledge high above where their drop pods were still creaking as they cooled from re-entry. The sounds reminded him vividly of the hulls of ork trucks abandoned in the harsh heat of Armageddon's deserts. He remembered the men and Blood Axes he had lead, and remembered another mad sprint this time directly into a sea of orks. He remembered thinking that he would not survive that day and how he had fought to the sound of the Dorodnad Tenth Orchestra playing To Naarak. He thought he would not survive but he was still here.

He used his sound sytem now to belt out that glorious music, looping back into his helmet so that the booming drums and brass almost deafened him. He could see his Brothers down below laying into the enemy and some turned to look at what was making all the noise. The sight of the Deathwatch destroying the weakling Tau and the human scum that served them filled him with a furious joy. He remembered the orks on Armageddon again, they were very much like him and his brethren, they both longed for battle as an ordinary man longed for the simple pleasures of family life. He was beyond the need for such mundane, trivial things, battle and the company of good warriors was all he desired. As he reached the end of the ledge, the string section of the Orchestra almost seemed to count off his steps right into the air.

The chain-hammer roared and men yelped as his giant form flew down toward them. His eyes burned, the music bellowed, "Waaagh!" and then he was on them, feet first into some hapless individual who burst under the force and weight of him and then the chain-hammer was swinging, cleaving off heads, staving in chests and spraying gore everywhere. It was an orgy of destruction and as a Crisis suit lurched towards him Laran leant back, putting all his vast strength into swinging blow he didn't even see, his eyes shut tight with the effort. He opened them to see the machine thrown away, torn open like a tin can, the pilot pulped. The suit hemorrhaged sparks and its burst cannon sprayed the air as the pilot's finger jerked in his deathroes. Laran did not pause to savour his victory or to watch the machine die but waded deeprt into the enemy, hewing left and right, shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Deathwatch.

Artos worried for a moment after Martell knocked him down and the orbital strike started, but when he saw Kraven, moving forward and unharmed, he immediately began searching for his original target.

There, around three metres behind Kraven. The tell-tale shimmer and small puffs of dust.

"Watch, brother," he told Martell, then aimed and fired.

The bolt, which appeared to be aimed at Kraven once more, stopped well before hitting him. Instead, electricity began crackling around a hole in the air for a few seconds, before a stealth-suit fell to the ground, a hole blasted in its spine by the mass-reactive bolt.

"Enemies that consider themselves invisible will usually attack from behind, outside their target's arc of fire. Look for something resembling a heat shimmer and the dust kicked up by their movement."

"Very good, brother," replied Martell, as he downed a PDF trooper with a shot from a plasma pistol. "How do you know this?"

"My Chapter once fought the tyranids. My scout squad hunted licto-". His voice broke off as he hurled himself towards Martell's left side.

When the dust cleared, Artos picked himself up off the ground, revealing another stealth-suit lying in the dust, crushed by his weight.

"We can discuss this later. For now, concentrate on the mission." Martell nodded his assent.
"One last thing. Keep watching me, just in case. I'm still in control, but that could change." Martell nodded once more, and they strode towards the gate side by side, cutting down enemies as they went.       

Jumping back into the fray, Martell's lips curled back into a snarling smile as he saw Laran's charge and began to lay about himself as well.  The chainaxe lent itself well to long, flowing strikes that passed through more than one body before being redirected into the next strike.  Though massively bulky, Martell's armoured form moved with what could almost be called grace - at least, it could be called brutally efficient - as he leapt. span and twisted through the crowd, leaving a trail of broken bodies behind him and splashing his armour with red and blue blood.  All that changed as he reached the gatehouse next to Artos, Demos and Kraven.  The flowing movements were replaced with repeated chopping actions inside the confined space, though sheer mass let the Deathwatch plough through regardless.  Soon they would be through to the other side, and their objectives would be close at hand.

In a moment when there were no enemies in immediate sight, he idly wondered when the revered Dreadnought would be joining them.  They would be through the gatehouse just...
He slammed a foot forward into the next Tau to round a corner in front of him, bearing it to the ground and crushing it even as he stepped forward onto it to smash the head of the next with his chainaxe.  Two more fell in quick succession to his weapons voracious teeth.
About...
A Kroot and its strange dog-like creature were in the next corridor.  The hound leapt for his right arm but couldn't exert enough pressure to get through the armour and he smashed its head against the wall.  He felt a round from the Kroot's gun ricochet off the forehead of his helmet moments before he clubbed it to the ground with his pistol butt and crushed it's beaked face with a heel.  No sense wasting plasma on it.  Light streamed through a door behind it; he charged through into the sun.

Now.

Rant ducked under a Kroot's war-staff and shoulder-tackled the beast as it tried to bring its weapon back around. It squawked and fell down, and Rant stamped on its ribcage.

Inside, Rant felt like screaming.

Severely encumbered, Rant was at a terrible disadvantage. He could not react swiftly to the violent flow of close-quarters combat unless he threw down his weapon, and to discard his lascannon would mean that when the gates were closed, he would be less able to destroy their motors.

He was ill-suited to the close confines of the melee fighting befrore the gates, and his lascannon no longer had a place on this new battlefield.

This had to end, and it had to end now.

"Brothers!" Rant bellowed into his comm, pausing to make sure it was secure. "Gates!"

His brothers responded with a series of clicks in his ear, and Rant counted them off as every Deathwatch, even Commander Demos, acknowledged him. Soon, Demos and Kraven would be closing the gates, and Rant endeavoured to be in position for when they finally slammed shut.

Rounding the next corner at a run, Rant took one look at the enemy before him before putting his shoulder down and bull-rushing the cluster of Kroot as they raised their rifles. Bullets pinged against his armour, achieving little more than chipping the black paintwork as Rant collided with the Kroot. Several fell and Rant trampled them without a care, crushing their frail forms underfoot.

Something scraped behind him and he halted, turning just as a larger Kroot fell onto him and pushed him to the ground. Rant landed heavily on his back and he heard something crunch behind him. For an instant he thought that perhaps a mechanism in his lascannon's power supply had become damaged, but the numbers in his helmet's display stayed level.

The Kroot was a bigger concern. Older and larger than its kin, the Shaper was clad in battle armour like its Tau masters, and draped in robes that stank of alien pheromones. Rows of beads were threaded through the quills on its head, and the creature carried a Tau pulse carbine instead of its traditional rifle. In its other hand the Shaper held a jagged knife of stone and metal, and the Kroot clucked as it ran its keen avian eyes up and down Rant's armour, judging where to strike.

Rant never gave it the chance, and tried to throw the Kroot off of him. It dropped its knife and gripped his shoulderguard and his lascannon with its taloned hands and feet, and stubbornly refused to budge even as Rant rose halfway and smacked the creature against the wall with his shoulder. The Shaper barked in sudden pain before chittering in its odd language, and presently the hoots and clicks of at least three other Kroot responded from behind Rant.

The Iron Hand got back up and tried to crush the Shaper against the wall, but the slippery beast escaped and perched itself on top of his lascannon, cackling at him as his armour compensated for the sudden extra weight. Dimly, Rant noticed that it was holding its pulse carbine one-handed against his head.

The most obvious solution would be to drop his lascannon to dislodge the Shaper, but Rant sighed inwardly as he remembered its importance. He could ill afford to remove one hand and grab the Shaper, even without the extra mass, and the simplicity of headbutting the gun would pose the risk of a point-blank headshot, or a detonation within the gun, blowing Rant's head off.

Rant swung his lascannon vigorously about himself, as if trying to take aim at each fly in a swarm. The Shaper held on, but its aim was off and its pulse shot impacted on Rant's shoulderguard instead of his helmet. Before it could correct its aim, Rant had backed into a wall and swung the lascannon up to point at the ceiling, and the Shaper fell from the gun as its head collided violently with the wall, leaving a bloody smear as it hit the floor.

Before he could finish it off, the Shaper's reinforcements had arrived, firing as they ran up the corridor and putting Rant on the defensive almost immediately. Lowering his lascannon for a moment, Rant dispensed a pair of frag grenades. A precise throw from his bionic arm sent the grenades hurtling down the corridor and into the pack of Kroot as they ran, oblivious to the danger until it was too late to react.

Something sharp pierced the back of Rant's knee and he cursed as he turned to face the Shaper, blood running from a gash in its head even as it brandished its bloody knife. It leapt at Rant, its knife held high in both hands, but Rant was quicker and grasped the Kroot's throat in his bionic hand. It wriggled and kicked out as Rant held it out at arm's length, pinning it back against the wall.

"Die!" Rant snarled, noting with mild amusement that he'd left his vox on. The Shaper squawked in distress as Rant began to choke the life out of it, still trying to fend off the Iron Hand as its windpipe began to collapse.

With a thought, Rant activated his electoo inductor, which flared into life and overloaded the Shaper's nervous system with electrical energy. It died with a screech as its brain boiled, and lightning arced between the quills on its head as it shuddered before falling still.

Its corpse, smelling faintly of roast water fowl, flopped to the ground as Rant released his hold on its neck, picked up his lascannon, and moved on.

Laran could hear the agitation in Rant's voice and moved quickly to get through the gate. He had not known Rant for very long at all but he knew him well enough to act immediately upon his urgent tone. As much as the human soldiers needed to be chastised for reneging on their sacred oaths to the Emperor and for turning their back on the Imperium and as much as the Tau needed to be put sqaurely in their place wasting what precious little time they had on this rabble was a sin. Speed and efficacy were two things Laran valued and Rant was right to urge them on.

Turning back to the gate Laran silenced the rousing music and issued a few barks of impatient anger toward his enemies, rocking them on their feet, or hooves. Kah'Brash scintillated before his fingers even brushed over the weapon, scittering the dirt about his feet. He aimed at the nearest enemy and unleashed a moaning dirge. Kah'Brosh snorted and grunted, pulsing waves of sound staggering the foe. The other Deathwatch could dispatch them as they saw fit but Laran was content to simply disorientate the soldiers until the Marines were all on the other side of the gate.

There was a veritable sea of bodies, living and dead, fighting and running in front of him. Artos picked up a short sword from the body of a PDF officer. It was a good blade, around the length of his knife, with a single sharpened edge. He holstered his bolter, then pulled the hand guard off the sword's grip, allowing him to use it.

Drawing his knife in his right hand, he ran forward into the nearest group of enemies, a mix of tau and humans, led by a couple of kroot. He jumped over the heads of the first three tau, landing in the middle of the group. His blades flashed to the front, impaling a PDF trooper and one of the kroot, then ripped across to either side, each blade lodging itself deep in an enemy's neck. He felt his battle-rage come over him once more.

The second kroot, bigger than the first, threw its head back and let out an avian shriek, calling to its kin. He answered it with a cry of rage, his borrowed sword finding its heart.

As he wreaked more and more devastation, those surrounding him began to realise it was unlikely that they could stop him. More and more enemies began fleeing from him. Despite the fact that he was covered in scores of minor injuries, Artos fought without slowing. Suddenly, without realising, he began to laugh.

The tau who were bold enough to think about entering the fight against Artos started to back away as, laughing and roaring like a madman, Artos slew all the enemies around him, then paused, looking for another fight.

He saw a group of kroot advancing on Kraven, who was moving towards the gate. He yelled at them to get their attention, then charged into the fray once more.

Demos ejected the clip of his bolt pistol as he entered the gate control room, everyone inside was dead brought down by quick and rapid fire from himself an young Kurtis, looking over the room he went to the view port looking out over the carnage, he saw Sirus storm across the open ground up behind his brothers he stood towering over them a hail of death screaming from his assault cannon, turning to Kurtis he spoke.

"Close the gates, lets take their heart."

Kurtis was already at the terminal, somewhere along the way he and Kraven had swapped places it mattered little, his vox went live and he spoke.

"All elements, the gate is closing make sure you are on the right side. Give cover to Rant so he can make the shot."

Kurtis stood his work done the motors for the giant gates started to whine and close his boot crushed the terminal controls and the pair of the left, it took scant minutes for the pair to exit the blockhouse and join their brothers, those who stood before them were putting up a good defence forcing the marines to take cover behind felled crisis suits and burning armour, Demos strode to the fore dropping in beside Corvin and Hunrik.

"Phase one is complete, we are locked within their heart now there is only the task of tearing it from them."

The gates slammed closed behind them the loud echo drowning the exchange of gunfire for a second, as the sound dwindled a single las strike punched into the engine house and an explosion gutted the reinforced structure sending brickwork into the Tau and Human force. Rant dropped the Las Cannon the weapon finally spent and took up his bolter Demos offered him a nod and as one the Deathwatch stood facing the enemy. They faltered the realisation that they were locked inside. The Green Crisis Suit landed as Demos stepped forward his voice carrying over the din.

"Forward!"

Sirus reacted first his assault cannon screaming sent a wave of fire across the front line of the enemy dropping them in their dozens, Demos raced forward a vicious roar escaping his lips the power field of his fist left a trail in the air as he smashed it through man and xenos alike Corvin at his side twi swords flashing dealing death where they met flesh or metal, within moments of their charge the force had splintered and broke fleeing into the network of bunkers and storehouses, the Green Crisis Suit opened fire with it's plasma weapon scoring a hit on Demos as it leapt from combat followed by three lighter green suits of a similar configuration. He growled as he checked his armour and spoke to Corvin.

"The headquarters are yours, that green bastard is mine, push on, Artos, Rant, Kurtis with me the rest of you follow Captain Corvin."

He strode off in the direction the green suit had dropped.

With the gates now closed Laran fired a pulse of shimmering noise at the mighty hinges liquefying the thick metal just enough to fuse it solid on the outer surface. It was unlikely that the enemy would waste time trying to open them conventionally but if they did try it they would be completely unable now and would be forced to blast their way through.

Following Demos' orders he followed Corvin, the Ultramarine leading the way, his swords flickering. He chased after the Captain, scant feet behind him using Kah'Brosh like a saw to slash and cut the enemy. From a side corridor something blasted into his right shoulder with enough force to slam him hard up against the wall. He didn't see his attacker but a spear of sound blasted the corridor and no more fire was forthcoming.

There was a smouldering hole just below the pauldron that oozed a thick trickle of dark blood and his whole arm and hand were stiff. He shouldered Kah'Brosh, unable now to fully utilise the weapon and unholstered his bolt pistol. He flexed his arm experimentally and he could move it well enough if he had to and nothing felt sverely damaged but he did not know how long he would be impaired. Kah'Brosh was an instrument as much as a weapon and it would be pitiful if he tried to use in his current state. The pistol would have to suffice.

Checking the empty corridor once more he continued on after Corvin as they headed for the Command Centre.

Peleus ran from building to building killing traitors and xenos as he ran.
He spun round a courner and crashed straight into a startled looking group of gaurdsmen and other traitors carrying what looked like old databanks. He quickly cut down the traitor gaurdsmen then knocked out the civilians and stowed the data banks in the building next to them. H then memorised the location and started off again.

As he ran past the main pathway from the gate to the HQ he saw the green suited Tau and emptied his magasine at him to no noticable effect, then charged headlong through the next unfortunate group of worrios he came across.
When he next looked up he saw that the building that he'd stopped next to was the gaurd room. He put his ear to the door and heard  the sounds of a barricade being built and an officer shouting orders. He listened intently to the officer and heard, 'put them gainst the wall, execution detail shun, execution detail present arms, Execu...' At this point Peleus took 4 steps back then barreled though the door. His momentum carried him towards a barracade and to stop himself crashing into it hi lept up and on top of it. He tried to shoot the officer but with a flash of horror and shame realised that he'd not reloaded. As the first traitor shot him he dove forward cutting the 10 security troops who were there, after a short but bloody fight he looked around and saw 5 men stand up. As he reloaded Peleus asked who the men were. The leader of the prisoners answered. 'We...we're Alpha section 1 platoon Alpha company of the Klozian 5th. We were assaigned to protect the Lord Inquisitor, until half our regiment betrayed us and the other half were cut down.'

'Do you still wish to serve the Emporer?' asked Peleus and he was answered by a round of shouted, 'Yes sir,''s.

one moment, 'Captain Ive found 5 survivors from the objectives honour gaurd, they are ready and willing to assist in any way they can, what do you will? over.'

Demos halted dropping his aim.

"Peleus, if they are fighting fit arm them and have them conduct you to the holding cells to free the objective."

He looked round pulling his helm off he sniffed the air, looking at the marines what had joined him.

"That way, close order fire pattern."

He directed them to his left and watched as they moved past him weapons trained controlled bursts of fire cutting down the enemy, he went right breaking into a sprint those humans and tau that got in his way were smashed aside as he stormed past, reaching the end of the block he scaled the wall his powerfist tearing chunks from the wall as he climbed to the roof.

Surveying the area he could see other members of the team following Corvin and Sirus smashing his way through the buildings reducing them to rubble as he followed giving heavy support to Corvin and those following them, his eyes snapped round as his fist followed catching a crisis suit as it landed beside him a melta weapon firing over his shoulder, closing his hand he tore open the cockpit the tau inside ejected but he shot the fleeing xenos as it tumbled through the air.

Three more landed a short distance away on another roof and he was forced to duck behind the ruined suit and replace his helm, standing he fired and backed up several paced before sprinting forward and launching himself through the air several shots slammed into his armour but it held despite the warnings in his helm he crashed into the first of them dragging it to the ground at the close range he put a bolt round through the hull and rolled backwards twisting he destroyed a leg unit from another and tore an arm from the next the two suits too to the air and fled as something demolished the corner of the building he'd been standing on, as the roof cracked and crumbled he ran again throwing himself from the building he landed in a roll coming to his feet he rushed towards the Leman Russ switching his long strides to wide steps so he moved in a zig zag preventing the heavy bolter mounted on the front from getting a fix on him, he went down the side of the tank he fist obliterating the tracks as he went past it.

Moving beyond the threat of the main gun he stopped suddenly and sniffed again, even through the helm he could smell the green suit and he smiled as he moved slower now stalking, his combat map told him the others that had followed him were close by, moving but their life signs were strong so they were alive, fighting and more than likely pinned down, a twinge of guilt struck him for a moment having left them but the hunter in him called and the choice had paid off, the marines were pinned by crisis suits plasma fire pinning their position, they were led by the green suit, he dipped low watching the fire exchange.

"Rant, Artos, Kurtis toss a volley of frag grenade on my mark and get ready for a kill shot on the lead crisis suit."

He bunched up his body coiling like a spring, he would need to be fast now, faster than the enemy.

"Ready yourselves."

Artos, coiled up behind the scant cover afforded by a ruined wall, primed a grenade.
He looked at Rant and Kurtis. "Brothers, there is more than one crisis suit pinning us down. The main target is the leader. After you throw the grenades, I'll break cover and draw their fire while you take out the commander. I'll get behind them and try to ground them."

Rant nodded in agreement, but Kurtis decided to speak up. "This plan is dangerous brother."
Artos inclined his head. "I know. But the other suits will be able to pick you off without a distraction. My chapter trains in stealth. I will make the best use of cover and go for their sensors or jet-packs."

"Very well," said Kurtis. "But be careful."

"I shall."

Demos began speaking through the vox.
++Grenades in five seconds, brothers++   

"Be ready," said Artos.

They threw the fragmentation grenades over the wall towards the crisis suits.

Artos began to run.

'Very good captain' repliad Peleus before turning to the gaurdsmen and asking
'are you ready to serve the Emporer again', and was again gratified to hear a ripple of yessirs as they bent to pick up their weapons from where the traitors had left them.
'Where is the Lord Inquisitor holding cell?' asked Peleus
'We don't know precisle but we heard them taking him down to the interrogation room and individual secure confinement corridor, follow us we'll take you there.' said the leader before indicating to his men to advance down the corridor in a stagard file so they would be prepared to meet any counter attack. Peleus walked down the middle of the corridor half way back in the small squad and watched admiringly as the men who until just minutes before had been about to be executed while a battle waged outside and were now moving through the building with precision almost worthy of a newly clawed unit of lions.

After a few minutes of moving quietly through the ccorridors of the gaurdroom complex with only occasional contacts with small groups of Tau and traitors Peleus and his group mad it to a large door with a plasteel veiwing port. Peleus looked through and saw the objective in a chair with 4 unarmoured tau with 3 gaurds one of the unarmoured tau  was preparing a vial of some liquid for injection into the inquisitor. Peleus absorbed this in a micro second and let out a growl.
he stepped back looked at the sergent and asked.' how do you get this open?'
the soldier pointed to the small pannel next to the door and said,'you need a 6 digit code or an ID card, but they took ours and changed the codes.
Peleus again started to growl as he brought hispowerclaws crackling to lif looked at the locking echanism and stabbed his claw staight into it the twisting his hand cut it out os that he could pull the doors open.
As he pulled the doors open the tau gaurds opend fire killing one of the gaurdsmen and wounding another befor the precise voly of lasgun fire and shortly after bolter shelt swiftly dispatched them. Peleus streicked into the room slashed the tau preparing the injection before he had a chance to inject the Inquisitor, checked that the inquisitor was ok then swirlled round on the last two tau in the room who had been surrrounded in a courner by the remaining 3 gaurdsmen one of them had a sword drawn and wasa standing infront of the other, olderlooking tau who was holding an ornate staff. befor he could shoot the tau the one with a sword shoute in accented gothic, 'Leave this is our world you do not belong here any more,' Peleus merely laughed at this and tooka step forward and told them, 'This is one of the Empporeres worlds in one of His systems and you dare to accuse us of trespassing, ' and raised his bolter to shoot the worriorbut before h could pull the trigger the older tau started to talk,' I am Etherial Ji'oie and I suggest you leave now, we have called for reinforcements from our head quarters and they will be at our location very soon.'

Peleus laughed again and said,' Your head quarters is in no position to provide reinforcments or do you think I came alone, but I think we will leave and you will come too.
'we will not.' shouted the swordstau and started forward
'I didnt say you were coming,' Said Peleus as he shot him through the head moments before his body was riddled with laserfire.
'Sergent secure the prisoner.' Said Peleus as he turned back to the inquisitor
'My Lord it is time for us to be gone from this place.' He said as he cut the Inquisitors bonds and picked him up as he was still to weak to stand and he could only just manage a whisper of,'Yes, tell Seargent Tellken to look after the prisoner, I will look forward to repaying the debt of hospitality.' Peleus passed on the message then radioed the captain.

'Package seccure, have also found  a highranking xenos who the package would appreciate a conversation with at a later date,permission to head for the EZ and make it seccure over'

He started to walk up to the reception with Tellken on point the wounded soldier holding his pistol to the head of the prisoner next then Peleus and the 2 remining gaurdsmen one of the carrying their dead comrade the other gaurding the rear.

Demos bolted from his position running at the backs of the crisis suits he spotted Artos

"Artos Get back into cover!"

HIs voice roared over both the vox network and from his grilled helm as he charged into the back of the closest Tau his fist tore clean through it igniting the jump pack fuel cell and enveloping him in a ball of flame his fist continued into the next a trail of flame in it's wake punching into the back unit and through the tau inside.

Artos drew the Crisis suits fire as Rant and Kurtis peppered the leader with bolter fire he ducked and leap landing squarely on a Crisis Suit dragging it to the ground Demos kicked on out at another twisting it away from him he fired into it with his bolt pistol and then then turned, shot hammered into his armour and he growled as he swatted away another Crisis suit and pounced into combat with the Lead suit, the suit brought it's plasma weapons to bear and fired striking Demos in the face, he snarled and lashed out as he tumbled tearing the offending arm from the crisis suit, the damage sustained to the suit ruined the shield generator and shots from Kurtis and Rant brought the suit down it struggled to to rise and Artos finished it roaring in fury over his fallen Captain.

Artos turned to regard Demos his helm was ruined the left side melted away and shattered the skin under blackened and bloody, his eye snapped open a stark whiteness in the black he sat upright pulling the helm free he looked over it and tossed it to one side before standing.

"Good work, all of your. Confirm one Enemy command figure dead."

His vox crackled to life.

"Confirmed, all free brothers form up on Peleus and act as honour guard. Xenos Bane begin Extraction."

Artos stayed where he was.

"One moment, Captain." He stooped over the wreck of the tau leader's crisis suit. Tearing off its iridium armour plating, he revealed the shattered form of the tau Shas' El.

He unhooked his small brass grail from his belt and filled it with the tau's blood. Then, using his knife, he carefully removed the creature's heart.

"Captain," he said. "Will you drink with me and share my Chapter's customs?"

"I shall," replied Demos.

Artos removed his helmet and drank, cyan splashes covering his lips. He handed the grail to Demos, then began to build a small fire, using pieces of wood from a shattered building. He placed the tau's heart on top of the pyre, then knelt and kindled a flame.

As Demos watched, Artos bowed his head and murmured, "To you, my Emperor, the flesh of a worthy foe."
He rose and turned away, walking off to join Peleus and his fellow marines.

Peleus' group headed quickly to the prearranged EZ and encountered little resistance. When they were around half waay several large figures loomed out of the smoke ahead and within seconds Peleus had his bolter aimed at the lead one, but before he opened fire he called out, 'Well met Brothers,' and he relaxed as Brothers Hunrk, Martell, Simion and Laran joined the group of the Emporers followers.
'well met Brother, My Lord,' Hunrik sad in reply and acknowledgment of the Inquisitor.
'Lets go brothers the  transport will be here soon,' said Simion
'Agreed,' said Peleus s the started to move again with the  forming a ring around the others. 
They got to the EZ and Peleus put the nquizitor down and placed a beacon near to him to show the transport that they were in position. The others hhd already spread out into a defence pattern when he looked up and the gaurdsmen were in a smaer pattern around the inquisitor. When Peleus was satisfied that the are was secure he radioed Demos,'Captain i've lnked up with  the  others nd have secured the area we're just waitng for you, cptain corvn, Artos, Kraven and Rant, Over.'

Demos dropped his last opponent and turned.

"All units converge on the EZ, begin extraction."

He moved emptying his last rounds into the enemy and darted shots rang after him as he bolted round a corner, the EZ was on the other side of the command bunker and he was a good deal of distance from it, Rant joined him at his side turning expertly he fired the last of his own rounds into the ranks giving chase. stepped into view giving cover as the bolted past then joined the flight too, Demos' heads up showed him the route and he plotted a new course as he ran shouting out.

"Left."

As one the three marines turned left heading for a wall Demos hit it first his powerfist crumbling the wall his bulk shattering it as he charged through, the corrected their steps and carried on weaving, until they reached the EZ where the others stood in a defensive pattern, they slowed as the rest joined from other directions.

"Ammo counts?"

They all fed the information back to him and he sighed.

"Alpha, what is your ETA?"

"Seventy seconds."

Kurtis stepped up to him.

"A minute is a long time brother captain, especially when we are surrounded on all sides by the enemy."

Demos nodded and turned looking off in a direction.

"Sirus we could do with some cover."

+I obey brothers!+

Sirus crashed into view and charged into their centre his gun barked in rapid succession as it tore lines from the surrounding buildings cutting down the enemy as it swept his gun round wide arcs. Demos touched the connection node on the dreadnaught and pulled up his ammo count at twenty five percent the assault cannon would be dry in thirty seconds.

"Make you last shots count, show these xenos scum that we are Deathwatch and we do not fear death for we are it's reapers!"

He looked round as Rant passed him a bolt pistol clip and nodded his thanks slotting it home he looked at the enemy they were mostly tau firewarriors, Kroot and Vespid now, the human allies had fled or were preoccupied elsewhere. He joined his brothers in their last stand gunning down those foolish enough to charge them eager to rescue their Ethereal who cowered beside the Inquisitor.

A Kroot broke through the fire but Corvin ended the beast his powerswords making short work of the xenos creature, then the roar of engines came to his ears a moment before the rest heard them, Thunderhawk engines gunned in five of them in total they banked and laid down a hail of fire before one broke off from the wing and dropped to the ground.

"On board now!"

Demos watched as they all backed into the Thunderhawk Peleus making sure the Inquisitor and guardsmen still alive went first, they'd lost several during their last stand, After the majority of them were on board he ordered the take off and was the last to leave the world covered by heavy bolters and the weapons of the other thunderhawks, he took his seat and sat back a dull throb in his hip where a shot had impacted in the last few seconds, already his body was combating it when his vox came to life on a secure feed.

"Good work Captain Demos, how does the squad feel?"

He paused for a moment looking at the marines around him they were unaware of the voice he could here, when he spoke they looked at his slightly confused.

"They work well together, I could not ask for finer Brothers."

"Good because the situation your team was assembled for has taken a turn for the unexpected."

"How so?"

"I have a Stormhawk prepared for immediate deployment upon your arrival, Time is of the essence in this matter."

"We live to serve."

He looked round at the team and took in their states of armour.

"We have need of repairs."

"I have already assigned a techmarine to you, we awaits you upon the Stormhawk, likewise all your requirements await you as well as your briefing, I will follow with the Xenos Bane after my debriefing with the Lord Inquisitor."
 
"Understood."

The vox link went dead and he turned to the waiting faces of his team.

"We are being deployed immediately upon arrival on the Xenos bane, when we land board the waiting Stormhawk, I will brief you enroute to our next mission."

"No respite?"

One of them pipped up but Demos missed the source of the voice, Kurtis spoke his voice clear and full of zeal.

"The enemies of mankind give us none so we cannot allow ourselves any." 

"Well said brother."

The flight to the Xenos Bane lasted thirty minutes and it took them less than ten more to transfer them selves to the waiting Stormhawk designated Rogal's Might, five minutes later they were under way and ten after that Rogal's Might plunged into the warp en route to their next mission, Demos had stripped from his armour and sat within a private sanctum reading the briefing notes.

Artos and the others were in the main holding bay of the Stormhawk; waiting for Demos to return and tell them their next mission. Artos felt uneasy. He had not expected his next mission to be so soon, and his mind was still clouded by the battle.

To put himself at ease, he decided to go talk to Martell and Rant. He sat down on a bench opposite them and turned to Rant.

"Well done, brother. I have a feeling that we would not have lasted long without your help in closing the gates." He turned to Martell.

"I thank you for watching over me. I appreciate it, and it warms my heart to know I have help at hand. We of my Chapter are used to working on our own; for long periods of time if necessary." He looked to the door to see if Demos had arrived yet.

"I wonder what mission is urgent enough that we must be diverted straight to another battlefield? At least we have the aid of a techmarine to help us repair our armour."

"Find out soon," Rant grunted, checking the ammo for his bolter and noting with mild apprehension that he was down to four mags. He resolved to acquire a backup weapon in the event that he ran out or simply couldn't get the replacement bolts for whatever reason; his bolter, an older Thunderclap pattern, accepted only straight mags and those were scarce in comparison with the more standard, and larger-capacity, sickle and drum mags. Bolts were bolts, and Rant could simply replenish the magazines, but nonetheless, the newer styles were different, and incompatible with a Thunderclap.

"Can make preliminary repairs to armour before arrival," he offered, gesturing first at Artos, then at his belt, before drawing a small tube of repair cement. "Can at least make job easier for other Techmarine."

"I keep forgetting you have training," Martell chuckled from Rant's right.

"Probably serve better as soldier than as armourer," Rant mused, smearing some of the repair cement over the cracks in his greaves where the Hammerhead had shot him. "But still serve regardless. Serve as soldier, sent to new war zone. Can at least look battle-ready."

Laran sat apart from the other Deathwatch, not that he was really aware of their presence. The audio-senses of his helmet were set to emit white noise and the gentle hiss blocked out any conversations taking place. He was leaning back with his hands clasped and resting on top of his head, his weapons practically dumped around his armoured feet.

Inside his helmet, Laran was snarling, an involuntary reaction to the violent thoughts whirring through his mind. Anger and hatred were not simply emotions or abstract ideas that his Chapter taught its sons to utilise and call up, Hatred especially was a divine communion, it was the very stuff of the Emperor, living through their bodies, hallowed instruments of War created by Him and through which He enacted His Will upon the galaxy.

In his mind's eye Laran saw figures, they were silhouetted against the ruddy sky of a blasted landscape, never ending waves that came at him without mercy or sanity. He fought them, he killed them, in their thousands he killed them. There were always more and he welcomed them for even a legion of enemies could not sate his need to slay.

Laran was blind to the confines of the Stormhawk and as he imagined another shadowy figure rush towards him he struck out with a fist, punching nothing but air in reality but in his mind pulping a face. He acted out the motions of bringing down his hammer, empty hands gripping a non-existant haft. He swung over and over, killing his foe once was not enough and he saw himself crush the skull many times. Sitting forward, hands still gripping the invisible hammer Laran was motionless, seemingly staring at the floor, his violent thoughts comsumming his attention utterly and transporting him far away from the Stormhawk's bay.

"Indeed we can, brother," said Artos, now sharpening his combat knife. "Although, there is no shame in a little wear and tear. It simply shows we have been fighting hard. Perhaps our next set of foes will take it as a warning."

"Perhaps," replied Rant. "Or see as laziness."

"True," said Martell. "Of course, we may not be dropping straight in amongst the enemy this time."

Artos chuckled. "I certainly hope so. It has been some time since I have been able to use stealth-tactics. I miss the hunt."

Peleus walked to the stormhawks small armoury and replenished his bolter ammunition, He then walked over to the secure crate with his personal badge on it and open it. He gave his ump pack a quick check over. he thanked the emporer that he'd made sure it was operational efore the frst breifng as there was not the room or equipment here to do so and he may need it in the near future.
He remembered the last ump insertionn he'd lead. On Terax VII, against the PDF forces who had turned their backs on the Emporer. He smiled as he remembered that mission and his brothers. He noted that his longing to be fighing along side them had diminished since he'd seen his new battle brothers fight bu new that the Den would always be home. he replaced his pack in the crate then went back to his seat and started to pray to the Emporer in thanks that they had all made in back un harmed from the successful opertion. He then asked for the Emporers guidence in the upcoming battle, and that he protect his brothers both here and amoungst the Lions.