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Deathwatch Reborn - Dagare Crusade

Started by Necris, April 19, 2010, 06:28:36 PM

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Necris

Demos sat in near darkness a servo skull with a small spot light hovered over his shoulder as he worked in silence his fingers moving over the object in his hands carefully cleaning it with a selection of tools, he stopped and examined the objected his eyes narrowing and he carefully studied the item in his hand a weak smile crossed his lips as he stood checking his crimson robe before moving across the chamber the light of the skull following him he came to a halt before a table speaking as the skull hovered behind him a short distance.

"Illuminate."

The lights came on bathing the chamber in darkness on the table before him lay a suit of power armour the damage wrought to it repaired by the Deathwatch tech adepts, he looked down upon it and reached out a hand pressing the object onto the chest plate, his eyes moved over the suit resting in the heraldry of it fully restored to the Chapter it had once belonged, the surface was black with white markings save for the single silver shoulder pad on the right pauldron the suit was as it would have been on issue to a new marine. He removed his hand from the breastplate leaving the honourific in place, he move round the armour looking at the chapter markings a closed silver fist marking it as belonging to the Iron Hands, the name inscribed under the fist was Rant, he brushed a finger over it removing some rogue specks of dust, he had spent each day of their journey working the armour where the tech adepts had sealed the armour he had reworked the plates to their former glory, the black was polished to a dark sheen the whites brilliant and the silver glowed with a lustre of freshly forged steel. He looked over the armour his eyes lifting from the armour as the chamber doors hissed open.

"Apothecary Janus."

The apothecary stood in silhouette but entered the room his face was stern and creased with age he walked with a pronounced limp despite the bionic that had at some point in his past replaced his left leg. His armour like all apothecaries was bone white the rights arm deathwatch silver and his helm which hung at his waist was obsidian black, in regular service Janus was a son of Dorn a member of the Imperial Fists, he stopped a short distance from Demos out of respect.

"I have prepared our fallen brother."     

Demos nodded and a pair of menials brought in Rant's body upon a grav table the mechanism hummed with a deep throb as they bore him to the table which held his armour, Demos looked down upon the body Janus had done his best the, rends in his flesh had been sewn neatly together and the damage from the life eater had been masked and halted, looking at the damage from the life eater Demos' hand floated to his own side where he still bore the scar from his fight with Rant.

"You have my thanks brother, have the others been made aware?"

"Not yet I thought you would insist on that burden."

He nodded again pulling the sheet up over Rant's face.

"There are those who wish to add their own honours to mine."

Janus nodded and with a dismissive gesture sent the menials on their way before following them out leaving Demos alone with the dead he rested a hand on Rant's shoulder.

"You have the Emperor's peace. Stand proud at his side my brother."

He strode from the chamber uttering as he left.

"Darken."

The lights died leaving Rant in darkness, Demos strode through the strike cruiser it was home to nine task forces each allocated to a section of the ship, the strike cruiser acted as a staging point for each task force, it had been home to task force Demos for close to a month as they awaited their newest members Demos had requested replacements for losses and had selected a number of new marines to replenish their ranks, his walk took him to the private cells of his brothers to one in particular he paused in front of cell bulkhead his eyes drifting to the name stamped into the metal.

Artos

His hand rose to rap upon the door when a voice called out.

"Lord Demos."

He paused and turned to Matthias as he came down the companionway towards him, he held in his hands a dataslate he paused looking at the door to Artos' cell.

"Forgive my interruption my lord, but word has come from the Commander."

He offered Demos the dataslate and Demos read the words on it quickly his eyes moving rapidly as he took in the details.

"All nine, this is something big."

"It seems that way my lord, the other forces are already preparing for the briefing."

He nodded and handed the slate to Matthias.

"You have full access to the mission details within an my full authority to prepare the strike forces equipment as is required in the mission mandate, alert the rest of the force to assemble in the aft hangar in full battle armour for honour guard detail before mission briefing."

"Yes my lord."

He waited until he was alone again then rapped his hand on Artos' cell door, a growl came from beyond and he entered looking around the cell as he stepped through the threshold, the cell was in ruins Artos had withdrawn himself after the mission spending much of it in solitary meditation his anger at Rant's death had spilled out into the room his cot was shattered the walls marred by his fury and blood, only his armour stood untouched a perfect status in amongst the chaos within, Artos himself was hunched over like feral predator of old he looked at Demos as though he wanted nothing more than to pounce on him and tear his throat from his body, one the door shut he straightened his face still a mask of hurt and anger.

"Rant is ready to be returned to Medusa."

"I have yet to give my honours to him."

The voice was a low growl threatening almost Demos ignored the implied and promised violence and continued.

"That is why I am here, don your armour and attend your brother in the arming chamber, together you and I will walk Rant on the beginning of his last journey."

Artos stoo in silence and he touched his shoulder.

"We all carry the burden of his loss, but he died a Hero of the Imperium and stands at the Emperor's side."

The pair looked into each others eyes then Demos broke from the gaze and turned.

"I've ordered the rest of the task force to form an honour guard for Rant as we pass him onto his brothers from the Iron Hands."

He stepped from the cell letting out a slow sigh before heading for his own cell and his own armour.
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Swarbie

Artos stood there, staring at the sorry remains of Rant. The apothecary had done well, but nothing could fully disguise the great tears in Rant's flesh.

Perhaps nothing should, thought Artos.

He bent down and brushed Rant's scarred cheek, running his armoured fingers over a series of stitches. He pulled one out, and a thin trickle of blood flowed over Rant's face.

"You, once my brother, have sought to be by the Emperor's side. Long ago, He promised us that we would all be a member of a great brotherhood, not only brothers-in-arms, but brothers in blood also. I take your blood, so that you may live on as part of this. The life is in the blood. Your blood in me, your life in me, you will live on, through me."

Artos bent lower, so his face was by Rant's ear. "You will not have died to no purpose, brother."

He moved his head across Rant's face, then locked his mouth over the small cut. He drank, pulling what little blood had not already flowed out of Rant into his mouth. The rich metallic salt-taste of Rant's blood filled Artos' mouth.

He stepped back, and swallowed. He did not wipe the stains from around his mouth. To do so would be to dishonour Rant's last gift.

Artos swept the remaining blood off Rant's cheek, and used it to sketch a small fist on his own cheek. Later he would get one of the serfs to give him a tattoo.

He bowed to Rant, and looked at him one last time. "Goodbye, Matej Rant, ever faithful brother. You will be remembered."

Artos turned and walked into the corridor leading to his private cell.

He didn't look back. 
And I saw her body burning,
With it, my world
To dust returning

Heroka Vendile

Demos stopped short when he reached his own chamber, as stood waiting outside was Brother Hunrik in full battle gear, his helmet hanging from his hip.

"Captain." said Hunrik smartly when Demos came into sight, snapping to attention.

"At ease brother. Is there something the matter?"

Hunrik produced a dataslate which he handed over to the Captain. "I'm sorry to report that I have been transferred out of your detail Captain."

Demos nodded, slightly surprised, he looked down and scanned through the file. It definitely stated that Hunrik was to be transferred immediately, but under the section which would normally describe the reason and the new destination, a 'Strictly Classified' symbol was instead placed. The Captain frowned momentarily, but then sighed at the inevitable secrecy involved when working with the Inquisition such as the Deathwatch constantly did.

"Very well brother. When will you be leaving us then?"

"The frigate Warp Chaser will be collecting me shortly after the repatriation of Brother Rant." answered Hunrik solemnly. "I don't like to leave the squad at such a time, but I'm sure you understand that I don't have any say in the matter."

"Of course Hunrik, of course." Demos placed a hand on Hunriks shoulder, "It has been an honour to meet a hero of the Watch such as you."

"It has been my honour to serve you, Captain."

Demos nodded, removing his hand from Hunriks shoulder before shaking hands with the veteran. "The Iron Hands arrive in an hour. I'll leave it to you to inform the rest of the squad of your imminent departure."

"Of course Captain."

With that Hunrik bowed his head slightly to the Captain, then turned and strode down the corridor, Demos watched him go for a moment, sighing again as he entered his chambers, it was a shame to be loosing someone of Hunriks skill and experience from the squad, hopefully the newcomers would be able to make up for their recent losses.
It's all fun and games until someone shoots their own guy with a Graviton gun instead of the MASSIVE SPIDER.
The Order of Krubal
Rewards Of The Enemy

Kallidor

There was nothing to say, no words that could adequately express the significance of an Astartes death. Laran felt a curious mixture of emotions, regret, anger, joy and indifference. Stripped down of all memory, all thought and consciousness, to the very core of who Tane Laran was he felt nothing for the passing of this mighty hero of the Imperium and yet out of that eternal oblivion of the soul came emotion so pure and strong it could not be named, not described.

Stripped down to a waistcloth Laran did not need an augmitter to let forth a terrible, inchoate howl, a long mournful wail to send Rant to the other place. There was one final act left to do. Strung with beads Laran placed the polished jaw of the Broodlord around Rant's neck. Seeing the Iron Hand die he had known he had to secure the aliens skull for preperation. The spirit of the alien beast would be forever chained to Rant's soul and he would be able to present it as a trophy to the Immortal Emperor when he took his place by His side.
Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

MarcoSkoll

The shuttle was poorly lit, and the human eyes of the Inquisitorial serf could only make out the rough shape of the Space Marine sat across from him.

The warrior had changed out of the long robes he had worn throughout the rest of the journey, and instead stood encased within the distinctive armour of the Astartes. It was possibly the first time the serf had seen the Marine without the face obscuring hood, but the shadows that dominated the surroundings did an equally good job of hiding any facial features. Even that indistinct glimpse was quickly lost as the solider picked up the helmet that sat next to him, and fitted it to his head, obscuring his face completely.

Following on, he loaded his bolter, his hands moving with the practised motions of a bicentennial warrior, each movement a precise echo of the million times it had been done before. He pressed the loaded bolter to his right thigh, where a series of magnetic clamps engaged to hold the weapon in place. It was a design that allowed the apothecary to free his hands for his work, but it had its other uses.

The Marine then turned his attention to the parts of his Narthecium, which unfolded and shifted around as his armour responded to the mental signals carried by the black carapace. Satisfied that it was all in order, he looked up at the serf, the Narthecium folding itself back into its inactive position with a disturbing life of its own.

The human audibly breathed a sigh of relief when with a dull whine, the door of the shuttle opened, drawing the Marine's attention. Light washed in, allowing the serf to see the Marine's armour clearly for the first time.
While the soldier carried the equipment of the apothecary, the Marine's armour was not the pure white normally associated with the rank - it was largely green, with only a white helmet and the right shoulder pad bearing the normal red and white motif of the Apothecary.

However, the opportunity to inspect the bulky figure came to an abrupt halt as the Marine stepped out of the shuttle, leaving the serf still harnessed into his seat. He had seen Marines many a time, but this one didn't fit the pattern - something was different.

~~~~~

Stood within the hangar, Vifer D'Nim watched as the readouts from his medical auspex scrolled past, giving him an array of information transmitted from the armour of Marines in the vicinity. The majority of the numbers flashing past were unremarkable - within expected parameters for Astartes not in a combat situation.

Turning to the keypad on his left arm, he adjusted the readouts, bringing up more in-depth information on those around him. The new data scrolled up on the internal display of his helmet, highlighting various abnormalities as it went.

D'Nim's disgusted sneer went unseen, lost behind his helmet.
S.Sgt Silva Birgen: "Good evening, we're here from the Adeptus Defenestratus."
Captain L. Rollin: "Nonsense. Never heard of it."
Birgen: "Pick a window. I'll demonstrate".

GW's =I= articles

Necris

He strode into the chamber one last time, his armour had been polished and restored and he'd donned his chosen weapons, his power sword Tempest hung off his left hip, a bolt pistol on his right, over his shoulder he'd hung his own bolter while he carried Rant's in his hand he also held a long case in the other.
Rant still lay next to his armour and Demos strode forward he placed the case down on the floor and stepped up to the table with rant on it.

"It is time brother to arm you for your last journey."

He lay the bolter down beside the armour and looked to Rant, before silently moving the pieces of armour from the table fixing them around Rant's body locking each piece into place until only the helm remained, Demos lifted the helm and inspected it as the chamber door hissed open, Artos strode in full clad in armour his face hidden behind his helm he walked up to his brother and looked down on him taking the helm as Demos collected up the bolter. He watched as Artos slid the helm onto Rant's head locking it in place finally Demos linked Rant's bolter into his hands. Keying the activation panel on the side of the grav table Rant's body was lowered into the unit a screen closing over him as the stasis field activated.

"I have something for you Artos."

Artos looked to him as he moved to the case lifting it onto the vacant table where Rant's armour had lain he opened it sliding the contents out into his hands, he turned offering the weapon to Artos a finely crafted power axe, a long haft of obsidian inlaid with honourifics of countless battles.

"I fashioned this when I was inducted into the Blood Guard of my chapter, it has long sat in my personal
armoury unused since I was awarded Tempest when I became First Captain."

He tapped the sword on his hip.

"It is custom for us in the Blood Templar's to fashion our own weapons when we reach positions of rank, and tradition dictates that our weapons are an extension of ourselves and that we retain their possession, it has become customary though that should we see the potential for greatness in others that we pass on a weapon to inspire that youth to greater deeds, it is with this in mind Artos that I offer you Heart Reaper."

He let Artos take the weapon feeling the balance in his hand before he spoke again.

"Now take up that banner and lead our brother in his last march."

He gestured at a black banner of the Deathwatch which Artos took up in his free hand standing before the grav table he bowed his head and led the way as Demos walked behind carrying a second banner, his own for the Deathwatch long pennants hung from it each one inscribed with a name of those marines that had served under him during his many years of service, Rants was the newest added in brightest red against the black of the others there were only a few more names in red those brothers who had fallen in combat given the greatest honour of being first noticed, he followe as the grav table hovered behind Artos out into the aft hangar where the rest stood waiting Laran started playing Kah'Brosh the tones deep and mournful the rest of the force came to attention each one armed with a sword the brought them up in salute as Artos led Rant to the waiting transport, ten Iron Hands stood ready their weapons slung at their sides as they watched, three other marines stood to one side watching the display with mixed emotions their armour still of their chapters Demos recognised them immediately, he had after all selected them to join the ranks, Vifer D'Nim of the Astral Jackals Jopha of the Wings of Malice and Demetrios Ingaevon of the Blood Ravens. The marines stiffened as the procession finally came to a stop Atros standing before the Iron Hand Captain.

"We will take Brother Rant from here."

Artos nodded passing the banner to the Captain who in turn handed it to his banner bearer before resting a silver hand upon the grav table.

"He died well?"

"The best death any of us could hope for."

"I am glad then."

Demos stepped forward so he stood beside Artos.

"He did the Iron Hands proud and the Deathwatch it was an honour to serve beside him."

The captain nodded barking an order in old Medusan the squad of marines snapped to attention weapons held firm as Rant passed before them, they each peeled off following the coffin leaving only the Captain with the Deathwatch.

"Thank you."

"It was the least we could do."

"It is more than most would."

"I do not consider myself most."

The captain smiled and with a curt nod turned following his charge into the transport Demos stood watching as the ship prepared to launch drawing Tempest, at this signal the rest of the force formed a line splitting so Artos and he stood at it's centre.

"Deathwatch Salute."

He lifted the sword pointing at the transport before bringing his fist over his hearts, the rest of the force offered their own chapters salutes to their fallen brother as the transport departed, stepping from the line he walked to Hunrik and embraced him in a bear hug before releasing the Lone Knight and taking his arm in a warriors grip.

"Go with the grace of the Emperor Hunrik, show his enemies that even though you are the last of your chapter they still have something to fear."

Hunrik nodded his thanks and took the farewells from each of his brothers as Demos turned to the new comers.

"I am Captain Demos welcome to the Deathwatch, these are your brothers but introductions will have to wait as will you taking the black, we're late for a briefing."

He slid Tempest into it's sheath and led them off into the ship, the arrived in the stratagem a large command auditorium where the other nine task forces waited their captains sitting on the lowest levels while their brothers sat on tiered seating behind, Demos took his position looking round at the other Captains present G'Huk the Salamander Captain nodded in his direction as did Captain Dregos of the Space Wolves, Captain Pontus of the Novamarines looking in scorn at their tardiness while Captain Kurtz of the Sons of Calsipher scowled in Demos direction, the other four he did not know but he could see that they were from the Death Spectres, Crimson Fists, Red Scorpions and White Scars. A figure in black robes stood in the centre of the chamber and Demos knew this to be Raga the equerry of the Deathwatch Commander, a pair of Inquisitors stood to one side as did the Commanders second in command Gaius, he heralded from the Sons of Orar and with it came a pride and scorn for those who did not follow Codex tactics it was known that Gaius hated Dregos with almost as much passion as Pontus hated Demos.

The Commander himself strode into the chamber like a shadow Tisias formed his shape from the darkness his armour was black as midnight the long flowing black cloak only adding to the effect as he swept in taking the centre of the chamber, his skin was white like marble his eyes and hair dark orbs of obsidian as he looked around the chamber his face stern. The Raven guard looked at Demos the two briefly sharing a private moment before he spoke his voice low and threatening.

"The Dagare system has fallen to Ork forces under the leadership of Warboss Gutskab Headcrusha the Imperial Guard and local PDF despite their valiant attempts were no match for the vast forces Gutskab has mustered to his cause, currently eleven worlds have fallen and four more hang in the balance."

The hololith displayed the system before them it showed worlds fallen to the Orks in red and worlds contested in green, a mass of red objects floated between the worlds.

"It has fallen to the Astartes to tackle this threat already four chapters prepare to mount a crusade to wipe this threat from the Universe, their commander has requested the Deathwatch's aid and expertise in eliminating specialist targets to open up the whole campaign for the rest of our brothers to cleanse with fire and bolter.
I have agreed to this call to arms and with the backing of the Inquisition we have been sanctioned to take part in this crusade, as such our specific role will be hit and run surgical strikes behind enemy lines, each task force will be deployed to one world from there you will take out numerous key targets to disarray the enemy forces, the key to these missions is hit and run, strike and remain unseen the chaos we will sow into the enemy ranks will distract them from the coming storm of chainsword and bolter.

As such you will all be equipped with assault gear, closed combat and specialist weapons will be made available to you as will melta and demo charges, we're fighting a guerrilla war, one which my chapter excels at. I have tasked each of the captains with details of their targets but expect these to be updated when we better understand the nature of the enemy forces, yes Pontus?"

Pontus had raised his hand and stood to address the Commander.

"Are you saying we're going in blind?"

"Not entirely, Imperial forces were able to supply some information and key targets before they were wiped out but a cordon of Ork ships has made further investigation all but impossible, that is our first task, we're charged with punching a hole in the ork fleet that will allow our battle barges and strike cruisers enough time to rend the enemy ships apart."

"And how do you propose that?"

The Commander's face tightened as Pontus spoke again.

"We've identified six command ships and a rok, three of battle ship size three of cruiser size the task forces will be spilt amongst these ships to disable them once their propulsion and communication is isolated the fleet will be slow to react to our own fleet."

Demos spoke this time.

"And the Rok?"

"I will lead my own task force onto the rok there we will try and cause enough of a distraction that they Ork wont be able to react with much conviction the battle barges in our fleet are tasked with ending it's existence while the strike cruisers and Imperial ships deal with the oak fleet."

Demos nodded happy with the answer, Tisias was a formidable warrior Demos knew that much he had spent his first tours with the watch under his command before assuming a command of his own.

"Your mission specifics will be issued to you after the first strike while you're enroute to your assigned world, the Emperor Protects."

Tisias had always kept his briefing short trusting to the experience of those present to fill in the blanks he left each of the marines present repeated his last statement then he dismissed the gathered marines. Demos stood as Raga presented him with a dataslate looking over it he hissed in annoyance speaking to Raga in a hushed tone.

"You know of the distain Pontus holds for me Raga. His attitude will not help the mission so why have you assigned us to the same ship?"

"An oversight I can assure you Brother Captain, maybe you two can rekindle your special relationship."

Raga smiled with a sarcastic sneer as he spoke, the equerry had never liked Demos. 

"Damn you, you little worm."

Raga moved away quickly continuing to pass out dataslates Pontus' outburst was loud.

"You assign him to work along side my task force, his rabble are degenerates spawned from tainted gene stock."

It had not escaped Demos' attention that all of Pontus' marines were either of Ultramarine or Imperial Fist decadency

"Watch your tongue Pontus!"

Tisias roar was clear and filled with fury.

"I chose the assignments and my word is final, you will just have to swallow your pride and deal with it."

The two of them locked eyes and Pontus' mood darkened, Demos spoke loud enough for only his own to hear him

"With me."

He strode from the chamber heading for their armoury.

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

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Koval

#6
"A caustic display, Captain. Your opposite number evidently seems to place personal pride over actual achievement."

Demos paused, looking at the hulking Blood Raven. His helmet was off, and his craggy features were turned towards the departing Pontus, his countenance displaying his immediate disapproval; in spite of his apparent age, however, the Raven's service studs denoted only three decades of active service among the Astartes.

"You would be Brother Ingaevon?" queried the senior Marine.

Ingaevon nodded, his features softening.

"You already wear the black, brother."

"Does that bother you, Captain?" asked the Blood Raven softly. "My former kill-team was dissolved after the events on Tsuikelyon."

"You will have to forgive me. The details of your reassignment must have slipped my mind," Demos admitted. "Inquisitor Schwertwald's message was particularly vague. He declined to appraise me of your ... situation."

"She," Ingaevon corrected. "But you are correct, Lady Schwertwald tends to keep things as vague as possible. She isn't one for active field work."

"Tell me about Tsuikelyon," Demos offered, motioning for Ingaevon to follow him. "I heard rumours of Tauist secession."

"Tauist is right," Ingaevon confirmed, "though that wasn't the only complication. Governer Katayama wasn't our only enemy in that campaign."

"What do you mean?"

Ingaevon smiled sadly. "The stuff of nightmares themselves. A threat once thought to be just a folk tale. I lost two brothers on that operation, Emperor rest their souls."

"Chaos?"

"Not as we would know it," sighed Ingaevon. "There are some threats I would rather never stop to consider. At least with Orks, you know who your enemy is."

"I saw the reports of the Kronus campaign," nodded Demos. "You already have experience against the greenskins. It's a good sign."

"Kronus was not my finest hour," Ingaevon admitted. "But I would rather relive Kronus a hundred times than relive Tsuikelyon even once. But I suppose this is not the best time to discuss such matters."

"Indeed."

There was a pause as Ingaevon briefly remembered the events that had led to Kill-Team Mahisha's dissolution, before moving on swiftly.

"I saw the funeral procession earlier," Ingaevon remarked. "I saw the Iron Hands. I knew a Hand once. Viljem Teverel. We couldn't recover enough of his body for a funeral. At least you could do the same for your brother."

Demos tensed before realising that Ingaevon's tone was still soft and respectful.

"His name was Matej Rant and he was among the bravest Space Marines I have ever served with," Demos answered at last, embellishing the facts for Ingaevon's benefit. "He held off a genestealer swarm for long enough to let us evacuate. When he died, he died standing, and with the Emperor's name on his lips even as the genestealers overwhelmed him. I could not ask for a finer death against the Tyranid scourge."

"Emperor rest his soul," Ingaevon noted solemnly.

Necris

Demos smiled he liked the Blood Raven, though he'd always found a comradeship with the Blood Ravens, he turned looking back at the task force as he strode into their armoury, taking his position in his bay he stripped himself of his weapons and turned to them all.

"Listen carefully, Pontus is a hard follower of Codex Tactica he will deploy to the letter and move with stoic purpose, it leaves him predictable and in my presence even more so,"

Their target ship illuminated before him.

"Starmashas Krooza,"

He visably flinched at the crudeness of the words and continued.

"Telemetry indicates the origins of the ship to that of a Retribution Class battle cruiser, as you can see the ship have been corrupted almost beyond recognition."

The Krooza was long but fat like some bloated fish it spread out across space like a living thing of steal fins spread out forming vast launch bays and massive weapons batteries could be discerned from the surface of the ship.

"Our key targets are the forward communications array located here."

As would be expected with a Retribution the forward array was illuminated in green.

"The master weapons control."

Again a section of the ship illuminated.

"The enginarium."

Another section of the ship went green.

"And finally the bridge."

The last section of the ship turned green.

"Pontus will want the honour of the kill, he'll head straight for the engines with hope of setting charges on the plasma core to detonate from distance and he won't think twice of leaving us behind."

He let those last words sink in.

"We know our objectives, I'm not going to issue orders the nature of this tour does not require it, instead we will be a fluid unit if you have a suggestion speak up, if you have an order issue it, I trust in your experience and battle knowledge to ensure that our objectives are met with maximum force."

He looked round at the marines gathered.

"We'll be deploying via boarding torpedo and with that in mind I want us moving fast and light, combat and assault weapons only, I want us in amongst the enemy before they know we're even there, let Pontus draw the attention to himself with drilled advances I want us moving like surgeons cutting a cancer from a host. Consider your weapons carefully the companionways of a Retribution are designed for human not marine the orks will have cleavers which are not suited to narrow confines."

He sat in his bay and looked to Matthias.

"Powerfist, plasma pistol and bolt pistol please Matthias."

"As you wish Lord."

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

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Kallidor

Laran considered Demos' words and then began to speak. Fully armoured and with his helm in place his words were laced with a sonic wash that made every sylable curl into the air, guttaral and echoed.

"The bridge will be the most difficult location to assault, the ork Kaptin will be surrounded by his most poweful henchmen. If as you say Captain, this Pontus will leave us to burn along with the orks I suggest we ignore the bridge altogether, capturing it will gain us nothing if Pontus destroys the reactor and obliterates the ship."

"What do you suggest then brother?" Demos turned bodily to face Laran his body language challenging but thoughtful.

"We capture the weapons control systems. I would suggest we keep our presence on the vessel hidden for as long as possible, not unnecessary kills and those orks we do kill should be eliminated silently. Let this Pontus attract all the attention; if he is so hungry for glory, let him have it, he'll have to carve it out half the orks onboard once they learn of his presence.

"Once we capture the weapon controls we target the nearest ork vessel and open fire with whatever we can. Pontus might cripple the engines on Starmasha but if we can take the weapons and cripple another vessel as well, then we'll be able to really rub his face in it!"
Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Necris

He thought for a long moment then spoke.

"Agreed, we will capture the weapons controls and open fire on as many ships as we can, we'll either cripple them or draw their fire to us as they retaliate to Starmasha's sudden attack."

He looked around.

"Any more suggestions?"
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Koval

#10
Ingaevon grinned at the Prophet of Hatred's suggestion.

"Cut off the head, Captain, and the body will die. Their resolve will wane rapidly if we take out their leaders, and without a leader, they will be as busy fighting each other as fighting us."

Following Demos' lead, Ingaevon reached for a power fist, nowhere near as fine as the captain's, but serving a function nonetheless. Its armoured surface was devoid of ornament and as Ingaevon removed his left vambrace, he slid his hand into the oversized gauntlet. It locked into his armour with a hiss and Ingaevon flexed his fingers, balling his left hand into a fist and then relaxing again.

"Orks are a hardy and tenacious enemy."

He selected a plasma pistol from the rack, again plain and unornamented. Testing it for weight, Ingaevon's practised eyes noticed that the dial on the ammo gauge read only half-full, and he scooped up a handful of extra cells, depositing them into a pouch on his belt.

"But they are not intelligent. They prefer the direct approach and rarely consider such matters as strategy."

A flamer to clear tunnels should the enemy discover and rush them.

"And in taking out their Kaptin, we'll pit them against themselves and hide in plain sight of the warring factions."

A pair of demolition charges to take out strategic points, deny the enemy tunnels, eliminate bulkheads and barricades.

"Some will stay loyal to the Headcrusha. Others, to the Kaptin commanding the ship."

"Are you sure it will work?" inquired one of the other Deathwatch, a Destroyer by his markings.

"It worked on Kronus," Ingaevon answered, shrugging as he stowed his new flamer away alongside his bolter. "When the Waaagh is big enough, the nature of the Ork tends towards a common stereotype. They are strong with their leader and easily fractured without him, because he is the one holding them together."

"Suppose we can't assault the bridge?" asked the Prophet.

"Then we'll have to hope that taking the enemy fire control and provoking a counter-assault from another ship will lure the Kaptin out of hiding," Ingaevon grunted, shifting uncomfortably under the sudden increase in weight.

"One further question for you, Blood Raven," asked the Destroyer.

"Hm?"

Artos pointed to the barely stable pile of equipment accumulating upon Ingaevon's back.

"Are you sure you don't have too many weapons?"

Heroka Vendile

Brother Jopha of the Wings of Malice felt most uneasy. Over the past hour since he had arrived on board he had witnessed the repatriation of a fallen brother from the Iron Hands, the departure of a mysterious Deathwatch brother with no chapter insignia, the simmering hostility of Commander Tisias' main briefing and now a very unceremonious squad briefing and armoury session. The Wings of Malice may not be of natural appearance or codex-perfect in their organisation, but they were a highly reverent chapter, every detail was treated as important and ceremony played a huge part in their traditions.

And now he was stood looking down at his new Deathwatch shoulder pad. There was no pomp or ceremony, it was just sat there waiting for him in his alcove with a delicately written piece of parchment attached to it saying it was for him. The marine couldn't help but feel a slight disappointment. His chapter celebrated every promotion, helping entrench the sense of unity within the marines. The Wings had an everyone or no-one method of thinking, either all worked together, or none would last.

The shock of the accusations of Captain Pontus still reverberated round his head. Mutual respect was one of the most important tenants of the Wings of Malice, and to be disparaged in such a manner by another marine was a new experience for Jopha.

Lost in his thoughts, he simply allowed his enhanced mental functions to take note of all the missions details and the back-and-forth discussions between the other squad members. Now was not the time for his usual buoyant personality, now was the time for the business of the Deathwatch.

He chose a bolter, bolt pistol and chainsword from the racks, collected an appropriate mix of grenades and rounds, including two clips of stalker silenced shells. Returning to his alcove he regarded the new shoulderpad for a moment before turning and asking the Captain,

"Captain Demos, will there be time for my armour to be made proper for Deathwatch service before we engage?"
It's all fun and games until someone shoots their own guy with a Graviton gun instead of the MASSIVE SPIDER.
The Order of Krubal
Rewards Of The Enemy

Kallidor

Before the Captain could respond to the Wings of Malice marine Laran unceremoniously dumped a heavy cloth on the table which rattled as objects within were displaced.

"And what is this brother?"

"The Blood Raven wants the Kaptin to come out of hiding; this will achieve it." Laran flung the top fold over and revealed a banner of sorts. Tied with chains and beads and what looked like ligament were dozens of crude metal disks, some old, some more recent considering the relative amount of ware, each daubed with vivid colours and ork glyphs.

"Orks like to display trophies, one-upman-ship obviously but they also act as an indication of social rank. Beakie 'elmets make the best trophies naturally." There were several grunts of dissaproval, both at the thought and of Laran's use of derogatory ork terms. "However, should an enemy choose to make such a display, by showing off the amount of ork back plates he has accumulated, well, it drives orks wild.

"If we can access the ships communications and project a vidfeed to the bridge, then showing the Kaptin this, with a suitable taunt to help it along, will ensure he hunts us down; he will not be able to refuse such a blatant challenge or insult to orkish honour. And if he does, well, that will help us too; the nobs will not stand for such a show of cowardice."
Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

MarcoSkoll

#13
"You are a Space Marine, and yet you will lower yourself by following the Ork way? That you would even consider the idea is detestable. The concept that you already have is abhorrent."

Several heads turned D'Nim's way. It was the first thing most of the team had heard him say.

"That any of you will even hear this tainted nonsense makes my skin crawl.", he continued.

It was Demos who answered him:
"You have a better idea, Brother Apothecary?"
"It would take little for an idea to be better than that one... Captain."

He swung around to point at the hologram, gesturing to indicate the craft's length.

"A Retribution class battleship measures nearly eighty weiths from bow to stern. The craft can carry enough Orks aboard to make an entire company falter, and we scarce count as a squad. While the corridors will partially nullify their numbers, we cannot do anything to draw the greenskins to our position. We will have trouble enough without appealing to their war hungry natures."

D'Nim pointed at the bridge on the hologram.

"We must use subtlety and precision. I trust that concept is not beyond any of you degenerate rabble."
S.Sgt Silva Birgen: "Good evening, we're here from the Adeptus Defenestratus."
Captain L. Rollin: "Nonsense. Never heard of it."
Birgen: "Pick a window. I'll demonstrate".

GW's =I= articles

Swarbie

"Be careful what you say, Jackal. Captain Demos has earned the respect due to him," said Artos, his voice low and hoarse. "As for this 'tainted nonsense' you speak of, we are the Deathwatch. We face a multitude of foes, each as dangerous and cunning as the last. We must tread paths others would fear to tread."

He began sorting through the combat knives, picking out the largest ones with monomolecular blades. He strapped two across his chest and another four to his belt. Heart Reaper remained in his hand.

"Just because your Chapter would not use these tactics, it does not mean we will not. We will use every advantage we have. If you cannot accept that, try to get yourself reassigned to Pontus' squad."

Artos took a brace of bolt pistols, attaching them to mag-clamps on his leg armour. He slipped two melta charges into a pouch on his belt. For the first time, he turned to face D'Nim.
 
"As for subtlety and precision, my own Chapter specializes in such tactics. I agree that a certain degree of stealth must be maintained to carry out this mission. However, no matter how hard we try, we will eventually be discovered. At least Brother Laran's idea will allow that to happen on our own terms, and allow us to dictate the battle in the corridors."

Artos turned away again. "I suggest you get some good equipment before we take it all. You'll need it." 
And I saw her body burning,
With it, my world
To dust returning