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Akkad's heart sank as the life monitor above Vaidan's rune spike and uploaded an emergency action plan to the rest of the Squad.  It was now or never - the Kill Team had to become one body, one killing machine to destroy their foes by fire and bolt.

 

He readied himslef to become - as Sabaan would have put it - a cog in that machine.

//Exload...pending//File ref 1104//Delib-Asst-Plan//Execute.

 

+Blackthorn - on my signal...+

Grasping Sonnet in one hand, he brought Cadence off the floor with another.  The vicious Machine Spirit hungered to be unleashed.  Sonnet sat, biddable, in his left fist.  In a blur of hands and maglocks, his combat knife was stowed.

 

He reached out, bracing his Bolt Pistol and his native tongue whispered to the Emperor.

"Anu, Iksuda Nekelmu."

 

Lord of Heavens, destroy the Evil Eye.

 

He fired.

 

Akkad Takes the following:

Half Action - Squad Mode: Fire for Effect for 2 Cohesion, reducing Cohesion Score to 4.
Free Action: Holster Combat Knife.
Half-Action: Ready Weapon - Heavy Bolter.

Akkad also declares his Reaction for this Round: Standard Attack, Bolt Pistol.
Target: Genestealer B, in combat with Solastion.

BS: 52 + 10 (Range) - 20 (Combat) = 42.
D100 Roll: 98. Jam and Miss. :facepalm: FATE POINT from Demeanour...!
D100: 42! Pass!
Damage: 1D10 (2D10 Tearing) + 9 (Damage) + 2 (Mighty Shot)

All Damage resolved at Pen 4
Location 24 - Left Arm: 21 (RF Confirmed, Deathwatch Training) + 10 (RF Confirmed, DW Training) + 1 = 32.

 

MR.

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With what might have passed for a customarily contemptuous sneer from the Medusan, Sabaan surveys the scene of destruction in the ballroom, seeing the supine form of the Genestealer. Such weakness it displayed, still reeling after the Iron Hand's previous shot, still unable to rise and perform the task the Hive Mind had decreed in its construction. Such waste

 

The Techmarine's bolter fires once, conserving his ammunition, using the fewest resources for the greatest effect. 

 

Sabaan enters squad mode as a free action, joining the 'Fire for Effect' squad mode: 

Using his reaction on a standard attack against Genestealer 4: 

BS51 (-10, Prone Target): 37 (HIT) 

Damage: 1D10+9 (5,2): 5 (14 Damage, Pen 4)

Genestealer 4 has 6 Armour (2) and TB6: 6 Damage

Genestealer 4 is killed.

 

++Compliance.++ is the single voxed communique in response to the Astral Claw. 

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[[ Placeholder ]]

 

Actions:

 

Enter Akkads Squad Mode - Fire for Effect

Full Action Disengage (you are allowed a Half-Move)

 

Vaidan breaks out of Combat in a direction you choose: Move 3 metres to the right and above of Genestealer A (map North is top)

 

Free Action Holster pistol, keep your CCW out.

 

Free Action Ready Weapon: Flamer.

 

Wait.

 

Sorry on mobile can't do colours too well!

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Round 4 Continues: 

 

Daon Akkad: 

32 Damage against Genestealer B

Genestealer B has Armour 6 (2) and TB6: 24 Damage

Genestealer B is at -4 (Explosive) to the Arms:

 

The blast causes the target to howl in agony - he takes 1D5 (3) levels of Fatigue, is Stunned for 1 Round, and the limb is useless.

 

GENESTEALER A | AG60 (6 + 9) = 15 | WOUNDS 15 / 20

GREYSIGHT (SOLO) | AG43 (4 + 10) = 14 | WOUNDS 22 / 22 | FATE 3
NYCAX SABAAN (SQUAD) | AG43 (4 + 10) = 14 | WOUNDS 11 / 22 | FATE 2

KHYBER VAIDAN (SQUAD) | AG39 (3 + 8) = 11 | WOUNDS 6 / 15 (20) | FATE 1

DAON AKKAD (SQUAD) | AG45 (4 + 6) = 10 | WOUNDS 22 / 22 | FATE 2

GENESTEALER B | AG60 (6 + 3) = 9 | WOUNDS -4 / 20

SOLASTION ALBIKUS (SQUAD) | AG33 3 + 2) = 5 | WOUNDS 23 / 23 | FATE 2
Edited by Commissar Molotov
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THE DOOR SHARPLY buckled, then suddenly tore clean off its hinges under Greysight's relentless assault. The chamber beyond was a librarium or study. The room's parquet floor was inlaid in a herringbone pattern. Leather bound books and data slates lined the walls over two floors, connected by a mezzanine wrought of intricate iron balustrades and brass ladders. The entire chamber was lit by a series of recessed lum-globes and glass lamps that gave the chamber a soft, burnished glow.

 

Ahead, just off to the centre towards the study's northern edge was a large embroidered rug, upon which several large leather studded chairs were assembled around a low table stacked with yet more books and slates. 

 

Greysight padded silently towards the nearest chair. Clutching his boltgun with one arm, he slowly swivelled the studded chair with his free hand. Imperial Governor Orlai's lifeless face stared back at him, ornate power armour split wide open in several places and coated in still-dripping blood that appeared black in the study's dim light. He had been dead for just over a minute.

 

'Damn,' muttered the Storm Son.

 

And turned.

 

 

+++

Edited by Nineswords
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Vaidan (Reaction):

Vaidan fires his flamer as a reaction at Genestealer A: 

No BS test - all creatures in a 30 degree arc make an agility test or be struck by flame and take 1D10+9 (Pen 4) Energy Damage: 

Genestealer A: AG65: 83 (MISS) 

Genestealer A takes 1D10+9: 7: 16 Damage (Pen 4) 

Genestealer A has Armour 6 (0) and TB6: 10 Damage 

Genestealer A has 5 wounds remaining

Genestealer A takes a second Agility test to avoid catching fire: 17 (PASS)

 

GENESTEALER A | AG60 (6 + 9) = 15 | WOUNDS 5 / 20

GREYSIGHT (SOLO) | AG43 (4 + 10) = 14 | WOUNDS 22 / 22 | FATE 3
NYCAX SABAAN (SQUAD) | AG43 (4 + 10) = 14 | WOUNDS 11 / 22 | FATE 2

KHYBER VAIDAN (SQUAD) | AG39 (3 + 8) = 11 | WOUNDS 6 / 15 (20) | FATE 1

DAON AKKAD (SQUAD) | AG45 (4 + 6) = 10 | WOUNDS 22 / 22 | FATE 2

GENESTEALER B | AG60 (6 + 3) = 9 | WOUNDS -4 / 20

SOLASTION ALBIKUS (SQUAD) | AG33 3 + 2) = 5 | WOUNDS 23 / 23 | FATE 2
Edited by Commissar Molotov
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Rolling this out in the event that I roll 97+ and somehow still miss;

Solastion will attempt an all-out attack against the stunned Genestealer B in front of him - thanks Akkad.

WS46 + 10 (frenzy) + 20 (all-out) + 20 (Stunned) = WS96

All-Out: 1d100 37 vs 96 = 5 DoS; probably doesnt matter.

Tearing Damage: 2#1d10+17 25 21; 25 Rending Damage, Pen 3; so enough to kill the stunned Genestealer

 

He saw the genestealer start its swing, acting faster than he could react; he was fully preparing himself to grab the limb that struck him to lock it in place giving him the opportunity to bring his chainsword down onto its head. But as the talon started speeding towards him in slow motion, just as slowly, Solastion braced himself to the impact and readied his sword arm to retaliate. Then, in a sudden burst of bone, blood and gore, the arm exploded at the elbow. 

 

Seizing the opportunity, Solastion forcefully batted its head aside with his bolt pistol-clutching hand - skin, sinew and bone ripping and breaking as a result - and brought down his chainsword in a violent chop at its now-exposed neck; the adamantine-toothed chain meatily digging into the xenos flesh and violently tearing it apart as he sawed through it covering him in gore.

 

Taking a quick glance around for other targets Solastion saw and barely registered Akkads form in the distance, his bolt pistol aimed at where his most recent victim now lay. He also saw Brother Sabaan fire off shots into the distance and Brother-Sergeant Vaidan disengage from his target but more importantly, the singular genestealer left in action.

 

Solastion Attempts to snap out of his frenzy as he recognizes that there is only one enemy left and that he has other responsibilites.

Challenging WP to break Frenzy: 1d100 3 vs WP 63 = 6 DoS

 

The blood haze clearing from his mind just in time to see a gout of burning promethium engulf the only genestealer the Sanguinary Priest could currently see.

 

Thinking quickly, Solastion brought up his bolt pistol and fired off a quick shot at the xenos hoping to finish it off for good.

Solastion will use his reaction to fire off a single shot at the remaining genestealer.

Fire For Effect: 1d100 84 vs BS 49 is a nope.

Edited by Slips
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Round 5 Begins:

 

GENESTEALER A | AG60 (6 + 9) = 15 | WOUNDS 5 / 20

GREYSIGHT (SOLO) | AG43 (4 + 10) = 14 | WOUNDS 22 / 22 | FATE 3
NYCAX SABAAN (SQUAD) | AG43 (4 + 10) = 14 | WOUNDS 11 / 22 | FATE 2

KHYBER VAIDAN (SQUAD) | AG39 (3 + 8) = 11 | WOUNDS 6 / 15 (20) | FATE 1

DAON AKKAD (SQUAD) | AG45 (4 + 6) = 10 | WOUNDS 22 / 22 | FATE 2

SOLASTION ALBIKUS (SQUAD) | AG33 3 + 2) = 5 | WOUNDS 23 / 23 | FATE 2

 

Genestealer A: 

Genestealer A will charge Vaidan: 

WS65 (+10 to Charge): 65 (1 DoS) 

Damage is 1D10+12 (Pen 5): 7 (19)

Vaidan has Armour 10 (5) and TB8: 6 Damage

Vaidan attempts to parry with his combat knife: WS43: 39 (PASS) 

Edited by Commissar Molotov
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simulus ....

redacted

 

 

GM

 

Delaying action if Vaidan wants the glory of finishing the Genestealer ....

In case Vaidan misses or doesn't wish to take the chance:

 

Aimed shot (Head)

Edited by Xin Ceithan
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GREYSIGHT WAS KNOCKED over onto his back, breaking the parquet floor beneath him. He couldn’t move. Something was pinning him to the ground with crushing force, and it slowly uncoiled into the Storm Son’s field of vision.

 

The abomination was nearly twice as large as Greysight. A spectre of bulging musculature, scythes and claws. Whilst it was similar in profile to the genestealers, the thing that now pinned the space marine surpassed even the horrors assailing his brothers in the ballroom. An apex predator, whose vile physiognomy was formed from rows of fangs, dripping with corrosive saliva. Amber eye slits glittered with alien intelligence, a malevolent, depthless conscience that regarded Greysight with curiosity. It swayed, slowly, hypnotically, like a King Cobrid.

 

Then, with inhuman speed that belied its bulk, it struck.

 

Greysight turned instinctively, narrowly missing the wickedly scythed bone spur that no doubt had meant to end him. Faster than the eye could follow, he snatched his boltgun and depressed the trigger, firing three times at point-blank range. There was a deafening roar, the boom of the hellfire rounds detonating intermingled with the agonised screech of the abomination. It flailed wildly, the mutagenic acid of the rounds sizzling into the splintered chitinous hide and into the more vulnerable organs beneath.

 

He tried to move. Looking down, Greysight saw a corona of light, white heat like that of a supernova flare into existence. The apex predator stumbled backwards, its lower limbs clutching its ruined torso, and a clawed appendage shielding its eyes from the light.

 

It screamed.

 

Not the wounded scream of a beast in pain. It was a scream that eclipsed every sense in Greysight's being, overriding his transhuman physiology with an overwhelming, nauseating pain. Blood vessels popped in Greysight's eyes. His head boiled with undiluted agony. The light flared once more, then guttered.

 

 

Total, absolute darkness, colder than the void itself, rushed up to claim him.

 

+++

 

 

Greysight fires a Semi-Auto Burst (Hellfire Ammunition) at the Broodlord.

BS50 (+10 - Bolter Mastery) (+20 - Semi Auto Burst) (+30 - Point Blank Range): 17 (9 Degrees of Success - 3 Shots)

Shot 1: 10(+10+3) + 11 : 34 Damage

Broodlord dodges on AG60:

Shot 2: 9(+8) + 11: 28 Damage

Broodlord has Armour 8(0) and TB12: 16 Damage

Shot 3: 6 + 11: 17 Damage

Broodlord has Armour 8(0) and TB12: 5 Damage

Broodlord takes 21 Wounds

 

Broodlord emits a Psychic Scream: 1D10+8 (Shocking)

8+8 (16) to the Head.

Greysight rolls a Toughness test (-30) to resist Stunning.

Greysight has Toughness 42: 93 (FAIL)

Greysight is stunned for 5 turns.

 

Edited by Nineswords
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He was bleeding from a score of wounds - several of the injuries were proving too much for his Larraman Cells to slow his blood loss, he felt himself growing weaker by the second as the Genestealer battered him again. It was covered in burns from his flamer but unfortunately it hadn't caught fire entirely its alien agility proving once again how dangerous these things truly were in close quarter battle, knowing he was running out of time Vaidan moved quickly to the right and the monster leaned in to counter him but it was a feint and Vaidan suddenly spun around the left and plunged his combat knife towards the Genestealers back.

Actions:
In melee with Genestealer A
Vaidan uses Feint
Vaidan uses Standard Attack with his combat knife
WS 43 Vs d100 30 PASS + 1DoS!
Combat Knife Damage 1d10 = 4 + 10 (STR) = 14

Edited by Reyner
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Khyber Vaidan: 

Feint - 53 against AG43 (1DOF) against Genestealer's AG60: 18 (4DOS) 

Standard Attack: WS43: 30 (PASS, 1 DOS) 

Genestealer attempts to Dodge: AG60+10: 100 (FAIL) 

14 Damage (Pen 2) : 

Genestealer has Armour 6 (4) and TB6: 4 Damage 

Genestealer has 1 Wound Remaining

 

Nycax Sabaan: 

Half-action: Delay

Half-action: Standard Attack: 

BS51 (+10 Range): 22 (PASS) 

D10+9 (Pen 4): 10 (Righteous Fury, +1) = 20 Damage

Genestealer has Armour 6 (2) and TB6: 12 Damage

Genestealer is killed

Edited by Commissar Molotov
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A charred, charnel house.  He looked about and saw the butchery of alien claws, the tell-tale scorches and pock-marks of Imperial Astartes weaponry.  Bolt shell fragments, slivers of metal.  One part of the opulent, now desecrated sanctuary of the ballroom, was burning.  Low flames guttered and the people began to pick themselves up, finery stained with soot and blood.  Guards who were also medically trained began to comfort the wounded and dying.

 

In terror he had acted and now, in the solitude of his survival Vortis face had taken on an aspect of grim reality.  His world had been shattered and his sanctum invaded, his own flesh had been killed and he carried wounds of many sorts.  Akkad envied him - briefly - his human frailty, the exposure to that emotion, somewhere in him a raw nerve, once long ago.  As he checked for targets, he found none.  Khyber had not been able to finally put down the Stealer that been mauling him - he was prepared to fire himself, but Sabaan, in his efficiency made the final shot.

 

A rune pulsed shocking amber in his display.  Greysight: Incapacitated.  He knew no more - Solastion may, but for now, a man down was enough - the Storm Son had bolted after the Governor, most likely to his hold-out refuge or private rooms - which was not a mutually exclusive notion - and now he was imperilled.  His unease spurred him into action.  Cradling the Heavy Bolter and Sonnet still in fist, he ran, pinging and SOS to the squad, who he noticed had started to stiffen in anticipation as they gave heed to the situation as well.

 

The Storm Sons were brilliant flashes of Imperial vengeance, but some times, they struck the tallest peak - only to be earthed.  He forced his legs to move faster.

 

MR.

 

EDIT: Damn Typos begone!  Chopped up a bit to match Mol's post below.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Atratus waited, watching the servitor-like guardians pace. If they were not turned they would provide valuable protection to the tower while the astartes were elsewhere.

 

Such contemplation was interrupted by a sudden flash of warning lights on his display, status readings for his squad brothers turning suddenly from green to amber. No order was needed as the assault marines turned in unison towards the palace to join the fray.

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When the Storm Son finally awakens, the sensation is akin to a swimmer finally breaking the surface of the water, lungs aching for a breath of pure air, and the promise of more. 

 

Greysight finds himself in the ballroom of the palace, surrounded by the dead and dying - those nobles that were unable to flee from the genestealers. The tiled marble floor is slick with drying blood and the darker ichor of the alien. 

 

The Kill-Team maintains a watchful circle, akin to a pride of leonine hunters wary of reprisal after a kill. It is a welcome sight indeed to see that the assault element of the Kill-Team has returned; the Raptor inscrutable beneath his beaked Mk VI helm, Tyber's face grim as he converses with Akkad. Above him, he sees the ruined visage of Varvost, the labyrinth of scar tissue twisted into what might be charitably be considered a reasonable approximation of a smile. 

 

"You could have saved some for us," he says, as he offers a gauntleted hand to help Greysight up. Around you, you can see Solastion attending to the injured members of the Kill-Team - the Watch-Sergeant's chestplate is rent and torn; the Iron Hand seems irritated by the Sanguinary Priest's attentions.

 

"You did well to survive against the beast," Varvost continues. "It apparently fled before it could do you any harm."

 

You know, though, that that isn't the whole truth. You have the vague memory of the Broodlord above you, its weight pressing down on your armour, its breath misting against the display of your helm. The way its taloned hands seemed to caress you. It was a moment of infinite wrongness, made all the more outrageous by how utterly defenseless you were. 

 

More memories - the far-distant shout, as though at the other end of a tunnel: a voice that you might have recognised as Akkad's, the bark of heavy bolter fire and a tug that was as spiritual as it was physical, as something was torn from you - as though... 

 

 

+++

 

- Solastion will have the opportunity to apply healing to any within the squad who need it - Slips, feel free to work up the posts. Keep in mind the already-treated wounds Vaidan has suffered, and also that Sabaan has the autosanguine trait.

- Ryken will contact the squad and lament the death of the Governor and the fact that Syndalla's leadership has been eviscerated (literally) and there is no governor to rally the people.

- Squad will need to determine the next course of action. (Reyner, pay attention to objectives on Post #1)

- Steel, whilst Greysight was unconscious the assault marines have scouted the locality and detected no sign of the Broodlord or any trace of where it is now. 

- What are you going to do with the bodies of the Genestealers?

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The change of the colours of the runes on several of the squad members on Tyber’s HUD pushed him harder and harder to reach the palace. As he slammed down on a building across the street from the palace, the guards placed around the building seemed to be alerted to something going on inside, but they still seemed lax in their motions. From his position he could see that the dome over the center of the building was broken open, igniting his jump pack again, he launched himself across the street to the roof, then down through the open dome.

 

Slamming down on a fine marble floor, doing a quick scan around the room he saw that battle had ended, Solastion tending to those that had suffered damage, but mostly finding mortals in finery, clearly those that dared to stand above those that worked the land. But it was his brother by choice, inspecting some bottles that drew his attention; brining himself to his full height he pulled his helm from his head, locking it to his waist by his bolt pistol on his right hip. Taking a moment during his slow walk to Akkad, to adjust how the chainsword fit across his lower back, as he came up behind Akkad, Tyber found himself puzzled by the older Astartes’ action, opening heavy bolt rounds, cracking the primer and pouring more of the bottle contents into it. As he finished Akkad turned to face him, one such shell-cup in hand, “Ahu, come with me a moment.” He said, while passing several of the cups to him.

 

Taking a moment to sniff one of the cups, Tyber shrugged and followed his brother by choice, while they passed out said containers, but it was the final cup still in hand the two Astartes sat beside a fat old mortal in much finery, his skin pale in the light, slick with sweat, eyes wide with adrenaline, hands shaking, Tyber could smell the terror on him. This mortal’s presence irritated Tyber, a fine example of someone with something they did not earn and no regard to those around them no doubt. It was when Akkad took a sip of the concoction in the shell-cup before passing it to the mortal, that Tyber followed suit taking a sip himself, in a flash moment, fast than the mortal would’ve seen but slow enough that Akkad likely caught it, surprise at the concoction of flavors, the meaning of such a drink not lost on Tyber. Raising his cup, he offered a toast to the three that were at the stairs, “To the victors of the battle under the dome of glass, and brothers lost in the night.”

 

“I never want to see a crystal dome ceiling every again.” Bemoaned the mortal, Tyber could do little but smirk and give a slight silent chuckle.

 

Turning his head to look over the room better, the smirk fading from his lips, he asked to Akkad, “How did they manage to take us by surprise? But beyond that, I am glad that you are well Ahu, I think we will have need of your skill at the tower, the servitors there do not recognize the authority of the Emperor, Inquisition or Astartes… we will likely have to fight them and the prospects of facing power blades is not one I relish.”

Edited by Steel Company
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His helm removed and maglocked to his waist, along with his weapons, he awatied the report of the assault Marines.  When Vaidan nodded and gave the all-clear, Akkad let out a sigh he didn't realise he'd been holding.  He turned and looked around the rooms, noticing several wooden-framed bureaux that contained bottles of alcohol.  The stench of the scorched meat, rent flesh and burned propellant gave way as he tore the locked doors open - locked to keep the servants from thieving - and smashed the corked bottles open, to the stark scent of distilled alcohol.

 

He sniffed one bottle, tipped some into his lips, discovering it to be some kind of smoky-flavoured brandy.  It was not synthesised, that much his tongue could tell, but made from whatever fine materials could be found on a grain planet like Syndalla.  Pulling a writing desk upright from where an alien monstrosity had sent it careening, he worked Cadence's action 8 times, one enough for each Marine and deposited each heavy bolter shell on the soft green leather writing surface.  It reminded him of his father's own work desk, where he penned letters of state.

 

Carefully, he unscrewed the shells from each round and making sure the propellant in each was intact, slammed the primer cap on the corner of the table.

Crack.  Crack.  Crack.  Taking each bottle marked with the same label of brandy he poured the contents in to make large measures by even Astartes standards.  He smelled the aroma of burning heat and smoke from the liquid, tasted it and decided it would do.  A shadow loomed over him suddenly, but no alarm crossed his features, for this shadow was hulking at the shoulders and two long sweeping trails of darkness betrayed swords in scabbards.

"Ahu." The word was both greeting and relief at seeing the young Marine unharmed.  "Come with me a moment."  He pressed one of the makeshift tankards into the huge Marine's hand and took the others.  He moved over to Vaidan and, seeing the Novamarine being attended to by a fussing Solastion, kicked his foot gently.

 

The Sergeant's head snapped up, irritated and confused.  Akkad pressed another bolt shell into an upturned hand and moved on.

"More there."  He said to the room, pointing.

 

Sitting on the step, still grimacing, was Vortis.  He couldn't help but notice the approach of the two warriors, but in truth was too tired to move, or even acknowledge them.  Akkad smiled at Tyber and sat beside the mortal.  He drank a long draft and nudged Vortis, offering.  The human took a sip, choked, drank some more.  The cup passed between them as he told the tale of the fight to his friend.  Tyber supped gently and a quick look of surprise, there and then gone passed over his face.  Sincerely, the big Marine raised the shell-cup.

 

“To the victors of the battle under the dome of glass, and brothers lost in the night.”  Akkad looked up to him, pleasure and pride.  He tipped his own drinking shell in both agreement and salute.

 

Looking at Vortis and back to Akkad, the more plucky of the crowd to watch, gawping, heard the noble speak for the first time in an hour.

"I never want to see a crystal dome ceiling ever again."

 

He felt Tyber chuckle, more than heard him.  Silence descended a moment before they spoke again, a silence filled with groaning and the quick scent of counterseptic unguents.

 

They drank.    Tyber spoke again.

 

“How did they manage to take us by surprise? But beyond that, I am glad that you are well Ahu, I think we will have need of your skill at the tower, the servitors there do not recognize the authority of the Emperor, Inquisition or Astartes… we will likely have to fight them and the prospects of facing power blades is not one I relish.”

 

A grimace settled on the Astral Claw's stern features, his jaw locking and the cold mask freezing it over.

"I have my own theory on how they surprised us.  Possibly something to do with that hulking Broodlord that battered Greysight, but my Esru is on some traitorous bastard here."

He supped more, his eyes hard, like chips of emerald ice as he studied the crowd.  The fierce liquid burning in his Pre-omnor and the effects being easily dispelled by the Purifier.  After a moment he continued.

 

"Did you ask them nicely to open the door?" His mask fell and a slight grin stole over his features, before becoming stern again. "Failing to recognise the authority of the Astartes is a serious matter and one which must not be allowed.  We shall go to this place and we shall show them their error.  Together."

 

MR.

 

EDITED: With Tyber's interaction.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Solastion will indeed administer some first aid to his injured squad mates starting with the oft-injured Squad Sergeant:

Medicae 75: 1d100 11 for 6 DoS; healing for 2x Int Bonus + 1d5

enhanced healing: 1d5 2 for a total of 2 + (4x2) = 10 wounds bringing him back up to his current maximum of 15/20 unless extended care can be administered.

 

He was glad that these genestealers did not include any of the mutations or variant strains of the xenoform since it definitely made tending to his brothers much easier with the lack of bio-acid or matter-devouring micro-tryanid organisms that they usually employed.

 

"Well, Brother-Sergeant, this is the best I can do outside of having access to an Apothecarion for extended care to make sure all your injuries heal properly. As much as I commend you for leading by example and from the front, I would strongly suggest letting some of us who have yet to sustain any real harm take some blows for you. As for this" and he points to the circular puncture wound in his chestplate "You'll want to see Brother Sabaan once Ive done what I can to help what little flesh he has left." and he placed a reassuring hand on the Novamarines shoulder as he made his way over to the techmarine.

 

 

And does much of the same - somehow - to their mostly mechanical techmarine brother.

Medicae 75: 1d100 98 uuuuhhhhhhhh lets see if I cant use my Demeanor for a Fate point to reroll, shall we?

 

As he made his way over to the Techmarine, Solastion definitely felt like he was being pointedly ignored or that the Iron Hand was doing what he could to avoid him. Odd, but not unexpected given what he knew of the Chapter. But, the Sanguinary Priest wasn't going to let a patient - any patient - go unaided even if they felt like it was beneath them to be given such care.

 

So, he took his time with this one. He busied himself tending to some of the yet-living unfit and pudgy mortal nobility all the while keeping an eye on the Techmarine and waiting for the opportunity to present itself. And wait he did.

 

As the Assault Marines rejoined them and went to Vaidan for an update as well as Akkad and Tyber breaking off to do...whatever...it is they did together, had Solastion finally found his moment. When the techmarine went to the far side of the hall to confirm that the genestealer he had ended in that section of the edifice was well and truly dead, Solastion followed suit.

 

Walking up behind the Iron Hand, he got onto a private channel with the Mechano-Marine: ++A good kill, Brother. Very precise and well placed shot.++

++Though it seems that, they too, have gotten a good blow in.++

++Now, you might not very much like it, but I have a duty to perform and, until the day comes that you've fully ascended into machinehood, I would very much appreciate any cooperation on your end to facilitate this process.++ He states rather matter of factly; he had had similar issues with treating his own chapters techmarines when they took to the field alongside the rest of the chapter. In their own ways, they were all rather similar; probably why Mars preferred to have a near-monopoly on the training of new Techmarines.

 

Now, not too sure if this counts in any way but hey if it works, the FP reroll and whatever it entails will be in the spoilers below. Also, Xin, feel free to correct me if I've characterized Sabaan in a way youre not ok with.

FP reroll: 1d100 56 cool, so 1 DoS but thats all it takes.

enhanced healing: 1d5 4 + the baseline 8 from First Aid + Narthecium for a total of 12 wounds to bring Sabaan back up to 22/22

 

Treating a Techmarine was never a truly easy task, thought Solastion as he went to work on the Iron Hand he wasn't at all surprised to have found rejuvenanites in his bloodstream which certainly made this process easier for him. Blunt force trauma, lacerations and puncture wounds were what he encountered; nothing really out of the ordinary beyond the fact that these wounds would have instantly slain a mortal.

 

++All done Brother. Unless you have more inquiries, I shall take my leave. It certainly seems like your flesh is not all that weak after all.++

 

Otherwise:

++Hmm the Apothecary frowns It seems like whatever you have done to your body in addition to where youve sustained injuries currently leaves any treatment of them beyond my current capabilities when out in the field, Brother.++

 

Only once he has rejoined the rest of the squad does he get onto their shared channel to inquire about their statuses. ++Brothers, do any of you require my assistance? We've got a few moments to spare for me to tend to any injuries. Otherwise, we might want to pile up all these xenos and put them to the torch. Can't have these nobles get any ideas about what to do with biohazard.++

 

If possible, Solastion would like to inspect the corpse of the Governor to see if he can't find anything out.

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++Brothers, do any of you require my assistance? We've got a few moments to spare for me to tend to any injuries. Otherwise, we might want to pile up all these xenos and put them to the torch. Can't have these nobles get any ideas about what to do with biohazard.++

 

Akkad sent a compliant pulse back to the Crimson Knight.  The Son of Sanguinius had fought well and furiously.  His Lamenter Cousins would have been proud of him, he knew.  If Solastion would welcome that was a different matter, since the Lamenters were not...easy...for some to get on with.  At least he was in the right place to examine Greysight.

 

"Duty calls Ahu.  Let's pile these xenos filth up and have a nice campfire.  We can clean our hands on the expensive curtains after." He winked as he stood, something tapping at his subconscious.  He shook his head to clear it.  Dirty work needed doing.

 

MR.

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The beast fell away from him screaching in pain its eyes twitching in rage it roared at Vaidan with muscles bunching ready to make the final pounce and finally kill him - rows of sharp teeth and spittle flew from its mouth as Sabaan finished it off with a masterful shot blasting its head apart. Vaidan stepped forwards and fell to his knee the last Genestealer was a twitching corpse on the floor and he needed a moment to regain his strength.

 

++Solastion I require your aid once again.++

 

With that Vaidan sat down against the wall of the throne room as Solastion came over to him.

"Well, Brother-Sergeant, this is the best I can do outside of having access to an Apothecarion for extended care to make sure all your injuries heal properly. As much as I commend you for leading by example and from the front, I would strongly suggest letting some of us who have yet to sustain any real harm take some blows for you. As for this" and Solastion points to the circular puncture wound in his chestplate "You'll want to see Brother Sabaan once Ive done what I can to help what little flesh he has left." and he placed a reassuring hand on the Novamarines shoulder as he made his way over to the techmarine.

 

"Thank you once again Brother Apothecary I will try to let some of you take all the glory in the next encounter" Vaidan chuckled painfully and coughed.

 

In the meantime Greysight had been found unconscious and Governor Orlai had been murdered by the Broodlord. Meaning their Secondary Objective was partly met they knew his status now at least but they didn't have a way to ensure continued Imperial control, unless Lord Vortis could step up to unite the defence. The Broodlord had been here and slipped through their grasp it had known the team had split up and it had infiltrated the Grand Estates with some of its kin, it was either much smarter than previously thought or someone was a traitor to the Emperor of Man. Vaidan drank more of the brandy Akkad had given him it was good he made a mental note to get another measure once he finished this one and take it to Akkad whose quick thinking had very likely saved Vaidans life once again. What Tyber had told the squad about the servitors around the Astropaths Tower troubled him deeply - if they were refusing the Emperors Finest there was something very wrong and the Killteam would unite against them and show them the error of their ways.

 

Vaidan opened a secure vox channel to Interrogator Ryken who was organising the defence of the Templum district.

++Interrogator. Governor Orlai has been killed by the Genestealer Broodlord. There may yet be another soul who can unite Syndulla and rally the Imperial defences - the defences of the Astropath Tower are also against us but they will be dealt with presently.++

 

Vaidan got up, drained the heavy bolter shell and refilled it with another decent measure. Then walked over to Brother Sabaan.

 

"Well met Brother Sabaan - that was an excellent shot you made against that Genestealer I thank you for it. Are you able to repair my damaged armour? The aliens keep putting holes in it."

 

[[After the interaction with Sabaan, Vaidan will find Akkad and thank him for his actions and offer him another drink. Finally Vaidan will order the team to head for the Chimera and make haste to the Tower.]]

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He followed Akkad to the carcasses, beginning to heap them into a pile, the words his brother by choice had used to talk about the fallen Governor, a mortal in power armour, Tyber’s brow wrinkled in thought and disgust. Mortals in Power Armour, which they do not have a right to ware, only the Emperor of Man had such a right. He was doing everything he could to focus on the task at hand; he couldn’t help but think back to his training under Adavan, learning of some of the foes that they must be ready to face. It was always the Soritas that were considered those to be the greatest affront to the Dragons; for those mortals dare to be in power armour armed with bolt guns. Both of those items were trademarks of the Astartes since the unification of the Sol system, but their gall did not stop at just Bolt Guns and power armour, no it went much beyond that, Rhino APC were even found in their armouries.

 

Tossing another corpse on the pile, he took a moment to look at the beasts, inspecting their claws for the first time, he knelt beside the broken body, taking out his chainsword, to compare the sharpness of the claws to the teeth on the blade. Once done with his comparison, Tyber activates his chainsword to remove the hand from the body, as an idea came to him he hurried over to Solastion, hand in hand.

 

“Brother, before we destroy the carcasses, is there anything that can be learned from them? Ways to fight them better or perhaps track them easier?” He was asking in earnest, Solastion had made it clear before on the transport that he had experience with these things, but right now, perhaps Solastion could see something the rest of them do not.

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THE FIRE BLAZED, a glowing ball of fierce orange beneath the night sky, upon which the constellations of the Utrar Khanates lay scattered: to the north, Morgoi and Chono glittered like jewels. Alghusakh burned brightly in the west, but to the east, distant clouds had shrouded Arslan in its tumultuous veil. 
 
Glowflies lazily weaved and bobbed between silhouettes surrounding the fireside, they laughed and joked, despite the roar of the fire, and the omnipresent chirping of nocturnal insects. 
 
The hunting had been good. Excellent in fact. The southern plains were fertile ground for game in the winter season, when the frost had encased Sunsitai in its unforgiving embrace. Eight days had passed since the Feast of Names, and the newly-named initiates of the Khuu Arga were undertaking a celebratory hunt as a rite of bonding. Even after a week, the ward names of the chapter's future battle brothers were still novel on the tongue, names borne from the breadth of the Imperium, selectively forgotten through hypno-indoctrination, and replaced with the curious nomenclature of Nakaris. 
 
It was, as the zadyin arga commented, entirely in keeping with the traditions of ordu of Jaghatai, and, they emphasised, for our own safety.
 
'The Path of Heaven is as much a burden as it is a blessing,' remarked Jelserekh, twilight hued power armour catching the fire's light, as he pointed to the night sky. 'To wade in its shallows and draw on its gifts is to also attract the attention of the yaksha,' he spat into the fire before continuing, 'and they snare the unwary by learning one's truename.'
 
The initiates silently sat, rapt with attention at the stormseer's elaboration of the mystic arts.
 
'Many survive the Trial of the Mountain. We test your body. Your mind. We also test your soul. Few survive the Trial of the Storm. The hidden sins: greed, envy, ego and the like, all invite misfortune. You must be sound in soul and in mind to make use of the Emperor's gifts. Consider then, your ward name. It is not just your name in the ordus. It is a true reflection of your character, your future deeds, your purpose. We keep your former lives shrouded to deny the Enemy of All power over you. Simply put, your name safeguards your soul in the same way that your armour shields your body.'
 
The stormseer's face, craned upwards towards the stars, looked down again at the assembled neophytes around the fire. Some were amused, others quizzical. Others still furrowed their brows, deep in thought as they struggled to comprehend the Path of Heaven.
 
'Saraluzekh,' the stormseer called, pointing at the boy who stood apart from the others, beyond the fire's light. He stood, slowly stroking a knot of pleated hair attached to his hunting spear. 
 
'Lord?' replied the boy, quietly. The stormseer smiled.
 
'Do you know what your name means, Cloudwatcher?'
 
The boy chewed his lip, thoughtfully.
 
'I don't even like clouds,' he muttered. Some of the initiates burst into awkward laughter at Saraluzekh's response. The boy remained sullen and continued to stroke the knot of hair. The stormseer walked slowly over to him around the fire, the others scrambling out of the way to make room for the seer. Jelserekh casually snatched the boy's spear from him with astonishing speed.
 
'My name means Windwaker in the tongue of the Imperium,' said Jelserekh absently, his attention drawn to the strands of knotted horse hair. 'The zadyin arga knew it was my path to become one of them. Your name's meaning is obscured from me. It is not yet time for the Emperor to reveal His will to you.'
 
The seer grasped the hair with reverence and held the knot up to the group.
 
'Your sulde is more than a keepsake. Just as your name protects you, so does your sulde. Through it, the divine will of the Emperor judges your deeds in the protection of His domains and His Laws. It contains the essence of your brothers before you, and your brothers before them. So it shall be for eternity.'
 
Windwaker returned the knot to its owner. 'Fate calls, Cloudwatcher,' he whispered.
 
The fire died, and the darkness returned.
 
 
GREYSIGHT GASPED FOR air, as if breaking the surface of a depthless ocean he had been drowning in for eternity. 
 
He saw, and heard. Was that Akkad?
 
Above him was an unfamiliar night sky, upon which a diaspora of unknown constellations lay scattered. The Storm Son thrashed from side to side briefly but calmed when he saw the ruined visage of Vârvost looking down at him. They were back in the ballroom.
 
'You could have saved some for us,' he beamed, hauling Greysight to his feet. The Storm Son grunted in pain, residual nausea threatening to overwhelm him. More than that, however, was an indescribable sense of loss. A part of Greysight's essence, gone.
 
'You did well to survive against the beast, it apparently fled before it could do you any harm,' Vârvost continued.
 
'I injured it,' Greysight whispered. The others turned round to look at him.
 
'Brother Greysight's assessment is correct. I have acquired a trace of the Corporaptor Primus' spoor,' interjected the Iron Hand. The Storm Son nodded.
 
'It fled as we entered the Governor's study,' explained sergeant Vaidan.
 
'We have to find it,' stated Greysight, flatly. 'Find it and end it. It has taken something from me, and I want it back.'
 

 

+++
Edited by Nineswords
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