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Seeing the damage to the tower Atratus landed short of the clearing. The xenos were not moving overground, they would have been seen.

 

Scanning the area from elevation he searched for any sign of blood, disturbed foliage, or movement. The genestealers might be adept at moving with stealth but the thralls they brought with them would not have easily scaled the walls here, nor could they have travelled far in the short time that had passed...

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+I am going in, any who wish to join me, you will be most welcome support.+

 

The Astral Claw said nothing else.  Tyber was intent on expunging his shame - although he only carried it himself.  Akkad doubted anyone else would have done differently - he knew that he would not.  He reached for the Auspex and triggered it, then, an index finger pressed the stud on the Flamer, igniting the pilot flame, which burned to a blue heat in moments.

 

He stepped into the tower behind the huge Marine, who shifted his weight to get through the blown open door, avoiding the rubble.  Akkad stopped.  A heartbeat would have been found wanting in matching his speed.

 

His hand shot out, grasping the lower strut of the Jump Pack on Tyber's back - it was awkward, with the Auspex in hand, but the arrest was there.  It helped that although smaller, Akkad had a bit more in the bicep.  The Dragon pivoted slightly, as if to shke him off, then followed the Astral Claw's gaze.

 

+Krak grenade.  A pretty little bouquet indeed.+  Under his helm Akkad smiled.  Of course.  He was now a little more pleased that Tyber had not rushed in.  He marked the spot with a compass pip.  The larger Marine stepped over the tripwire and moved a few steps into the main room, eyes everywhere.  A nod of thanks and he hefted his swords in tighter hands.  Akkad smiled again.  If anyone was in this tower - and not Loyal to the Emperor, they were going to die.  Painfully.

 

Akkad will scan for more explosives within the tower.
Tech Use Test - Int =45
D100 Roll: 21 Pass, 2 DoS.

 

 

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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+How did they arrive unseen? How did they know to attack now?+

 

++That, Brother Tyber, is how Genestealers and, by extension, their cults function: Moving unseen and always attacking by ambush if possible. They knew, on some level, that if they launched an attack on us in the ballroom that we would have called for a regroup. We know that they are also psychically linked to their Broodlord which is how they coordinate in such a manner.++ recounted the Crimson Knight.

 

++Do not be discouraged by your lack of knowledge on the subject; after all, our being in the Deathwatch is, in part, for us to share such information and disseminate it amongst our own chapters upon our return.++ he concluded as he made his way over to the corpses to give them a more thorough examination.

 

+++

 

+Krak grenade.  A pretty little bouquet indeed.+

 

Solastion scowled underneath his helmet and stood up abruptly from what he was examining on high-er alter. That was sloppy. He thought, especially since he had just got done telling them that Genestealer Cults frequently used Ambush methods. 

 

++Its a good thing you have eachothers backs then. But yes, as I was saying, Genestealers and their ilk are ambushers first and foremost. Eyes Open, travel always in pairs if we have to split up. No heroics; I've seen genestealers rip through my Terminator-Armored brethren before.++ he sighed sadly. They had lost quite a few precious Terminator Suits in that catastrophic event in addition to the Geneseed he had been unable to recover.

 

He looked over to Vaidan in that moment. In his attempt to make sure the past didn't repeat itself he found himself taking charge more and more. Sure, they had voted for him to be second in command and he had...'personal history' with Genestealers but, that didn't mean he could gainsay their sergeant when he was present.

 

Forcing the scowl from his face he drew his weapons and made ready to enter the tower after the two marines once they had given the all-clear.

Edited by Slips
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He knelt, carefully, bearing in mind where all his equipment hung, so as not to vex the tripwire.  He laid down the flamer and auspex, pulling his combat knife.

 

Interesting.  Takes a little know-how to do this.

 

The wire was connected to all 3 grenade pins, not just the one, as was the usual mistake.  He carefully pressed three fingers into the steel rings and eased the knife across the cord.  It sliced through like silk, whereupon he maglocked the explosives to his belt and put the length of wire in a pouch.

 

He waited for Solation to finish his admonition and signaled for him to enter, picking up his gear.

+Trust nothing.+ he warned, moving to the left of the main staircase and holding outside a door.  He signaled to Solastion again, by tapping his helmet and through Astartes battle sign.  

/On/Me/

 

Varvost the Killer stepped in behind Tyber, matching his bulk, Axe and pistol in hand.  Akkad nodded to them both.

+We'll sweep the rooms, proceed to the top.  Death to the enemy.+  He sounded convinced and sure, but generally booby traps were left when no-one from your side would blunder into them and everyone had already moved out.  In truth, he expected to find nothing.

 

A quick check of the Auspex for more surprises, then reporting clear, with the Crimson Knight tucked up behind him, he applied his boot to the door in thunderous force.

 

The search had begun.

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Tyber, Akkad, Solastion and Varvost:

If familiar with the lantern-towers perched on the rocky cliffs to warn off sailing vessels, the Tower of Echoes might appear recognisable to you in its form. A narrow stairway spirals up higher and higher still. There is little opportunity for any of your opponents to ambush you - and as Akkad mentions, it appears the cultists have had their fill. 

 

When you reach the higher limits of the Tower, the stairway opens out to an armoured door reminiscent of a vault. The door itself lies open, the locking mechanisms sheared through. You can see a piece of industrial equipment, a heavy-duty saw, discarded on the ground beside.   

 

Passing through, you can immediately see the tell-tale signs of gunfire and combat. The corridors are spartan, in typical Imperial style and in marked contrast to the gaudiness of the governor's manse. However, you see the pock-marks of bullet holes and spent casings across the floor. 

 

It doesn't take long before you find the couches within which the Astropaths reside whilst sending their messages across the void. They lie empty, their many neural connections and ports hanging loose like fronds of hair swaying in the recirculated air. 

 

Varvost motions, the muzzle of his combat shotgun following his eyes as he indicates blood on the floor - drag marks criss-crossed, and bloody boot prints. Stacked almost like firewood you find the corpses of five astropaths in their green robes. They have been executed, shot in the back of the head. Clearly, they were unable to put up much in the way of resistance. 

 

Sabaan, Greysight and Atratus: 

 

It is the Raptor who notices it first -  a hatchway cover, the scrape of claw-marks against plascrete. It is a passageway into the subterranean sewer systems beneath the city. Wedging your combat blade into the crack and using it to lever up the hatch, you see a ladder descending down into the darkness, and far below you can hear the rush of water. 

 

The tracks of the attackers lead here, and it seems apparent that this is how the cult are navigating the city. 

Edited by Commissar Molotov
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Tyber’s shoulders slump, an audible sigh escaping his lips, stepping towards the bodies, but stopping short as Solastion’s repeated warnings fresh in his mind after the trap set with the grenades was found. Activating the squad level Vox, Tyber sent an image of the scene before him, as well as his words to Vaidan; +They are dead, Sargent, all five of them. It would seem we need a new way to contact the Death Watch or find a way off world.+

 

Placing his chainsword across the small of his back, while keeping his arming sword at the ready, Tyber began to inspect the room for something, anything that might be of use to them.

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He watched Tyber step around the room, his earlier pleasure at the big Marine remembering the term Lugal.  Easy to not notice a familiar word in a foreign accent now.  He sighed, weapons still held ready.

 

+This was not done by an angry mob, nor by the Stealers.  We are dealing with trained operatives here.  Traitor PDF, possibly a higher-tier unit like engineers or sappers.  This was a Kill squad.+  He quickly counted.

 

Five corpses, executed, but he suspected there may be another unaccounted for.  The couches they had lain in were not arranged in some random fashion.  The Imperial Tarot would have dictated their placement and the Astropathic currents would have been taken into account to maximise the "reception" so to speak - as least it had been that way on the vessels he had served on, although Kairos, the Astropath aboard the Herald, a human vessel under the Orduul Trader House had just lounged around and managed to Commune with the Master of Terra.

 

Such things were not his province.

 

But the couch - or casket - he thought harshly, at the head of the arranged couches, where the strongest voice of the Choir carried traces of blood where a head would rest.  None of the others did.

Solastion interrupted his thoughts with his own, given voice.

 

MR.

EDITED: Narrative coherence.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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++Traitor PDF...or Genstealer Cultists that had infiltrated the PDF? So far we've seen no sign of the great enemy here; just these xenos. Assume anyone acting against us is beholden to the Broodlord. Remember, apart from the hideously mutated, they are capable of blending in, and functioning, within Imperial Society for extended periods which is why rooting cults out is such a challenge.++

 

Mol, feel free to correct me if Im going into too much detail about Genestealer cults that Solastion might not be privy to.

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Slips: 

It's conceivable that after the losses Solastion's force sustained against the Genestealers he might've researched them further, especially with his secondment to the Deathwatch. That said, I don't think "traitor" automatically means "Chaos Worshipper." 

 

Mazer: 

Feel free to write up your questions narratively in character rather than out, and I will answer them.

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The Crimson Knight continued.

 

++Traitor PDF...or Genstealer Cultists that had infiltrated the PDF? So far we've seen no sign of the great enemy here; just these xenos. Assume anyone acting against us is beholden to the Broodlord. Remember, apart from the hideously mutated, they are capable of blending in, and functioning, within Imperial Society for extended periods which is why rooting cults out is such a challenge.++

 

The Astral Claw turned smoothly, adopting a poise and tone of moderation so there would be no further misunderstanding.

+I concur, My Apothecary, yet I did not think them benighted by the Great Enemy, just that anyone who turns his coat is a traitor, no matter the stripe he paints himself with - Traitor PDF or Cultist, those things are not mutually exclusive.+  He added a small hint of a smile to suggest he had not been clear, rather than he was correcting the other.  He swung back, chin fixing in a grimace.  He continued to lean in Solastion's direction, his helm tilted slightly to indicate he was still speaking to their Second-In-Command.

 

+What do you make of the blood on the Couch there?  And what of this - five bodies, but how many couches were in use?  Could you identify the Choirmaster from the dead before us?+

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Akkad:

You can tell that there are more than five couches available, perhaps even as many as ten, though it is hard to tell how many are in any sort of regular use. A facility such as this could conceivably have been built for a far larger astropathic choir, though Syndalla's relative obscurity and distance from the more civilised areas of the Taurelian Expanse means that the planet likely has few astropaths assigned to it. 

 

Varvost crouches, turning the corpses over so that they can be inspected. One of them, a frail-looking elderly woman, wears a robe trimmed in golden thread. 

 

"I'd wager this would be your Choir-master."

 

It is at this point your auspex detects movement within the chambers. A smudge across the screen, a smear of movement. It takes you a moment to localise the movement to a ventilation grille within the wall.

Edited by Commissar Molotov
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Blip.

 

Blip.

 

Akkad hardly flinched under his armour.  Any movement would be exaggerated.  He casually cast his eyes around the room, sighing loudly.  There.  The ventilation duct. Who or whatever was inside was observing.  Perhaps to trigger a relay-mechanism on an explosive device.  Some fanatic perhaps, wounded and chosen to remain behind.  Small signature though...+You are right My Headsman.+ Another affected sigh.  Niether Varvost, nor Tyber had line of sight - Solastion though, did.  The bonus here was his hands were hidden from the signal's origin as he turned away.

 

/Being/Watched/Await/Cover/Me

 

+I have taken some readings of the dead.+  The Crimson Knight nodded, barely perceptibly and his weapons gently eased up to where he could use them at a blink.  It took Daon 20 long seconds of as nonchalant wandering as he could manage, then when he was a good handful of metres away, his weapons slipped to his waist, his bolt pistol drew and with a bare protesting shriek of metal torn from clasps, he was wrenching off the grille covering the ventilation duct, dropping to his knees - all a blur of sable and silver ceramite.  His helmet lamp clicked on and Sonnet stared down the shaft in the powerful brightness.  In a heartbeat, the other brothers had taken positions ready to act, although their postures betrayed a mote of confusion - only Solastion - forewarned, stood with his bolt pistol levelled and solid.  Violence hung thick in the air with threat and promise both.  The Astartes on edge.

 

+What have we here?+ He challenged, not unpleasantly, ready to make the smile on his face nasty or benevolent at the result of his discovery.

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Immediately Solastion tensed.

 

/Ready/Waiting

 

Blurring into motion as Akkad forcefully yanked the tacticus-grade-alpha vent grille from its wall sockets as if it was nothing more than paper, Solastion halted behind the Marine, one hand free and ready to pull him away in the event something acted aggressively from within; the other with his chainsword drawn, the engine purring in the pregnant silence that followed the Astral Claws question.

 

++What have we here?++

 

He was curious to know...

Edited by Slips
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+What have we here?+

 

It had been an uneventful yet steady advance into the tower. After the Dragon's narrow brush with the improvised explosive device, they had disabled or circumvented several more yet failed to confront the enemy. While his brothers were debating the nature of treachery, Sabaan had pondered the probabilities of the attack on the Astropath node being the consequence of their recent a toons or in, more likely, their deployment had forced the enemy's hand. Securing or at least disrupting their line of communication was a very basic tactic, especially for an insurgent element. It was troublesome that the xenos and the treacherous scum that supported them had only now had attempted ( succeeded?) at it.

 

It came as no surprise then, that the Killteam had found the astropathic chamber and it's inhabitants dead. But again, their observations and the Apothecary's report spoke of their rather recent demise. There was the possibility of some of the choir being still alive...

Had they been taken against their will? Were the xenos and their following attempting to connect to the abomination that had spawned them and was even now searching, probing, hungering for the biomass awaiting it at Syndalla?

 

The Techmarine was as wary of the Empyrean and it's mysteries like most of Medusan Stock. The deeper they advanced into the Tower, the more the psychic residue made his skin crawl. There was no hair left on his Fleshform. Else it would have stood up on his neck.

Could these creature harness the gifts of the Astropaths as beacons for their xenos overlords? Or was it even possible that the cult had infiltrated the order of blind seers, subverting them so that now those who had been tainted by the foulness of the Genestealers had turned on their unsuspecting peers?

From what little he was aware of, an astropath was supposed to be "soulbound" to the Emperor's light. Was it even possible to disrupt that bound?

>> Others have turned... turned out...weak...broken.. NEVER TRUST<<

 

The unthoughts were rushing through his thoughtstream, whispering, reminding him of the Creed.

The Iron Hand stood in the dead center of the room, circling slowly. His Augur rang out and his multioptics scanned their surroundings, m fulcrum of black iron around which the others circled. He kept close to Vaidan. The Watch-Sergeant's Armour was still in perilous shape, it's spirit in anguish. His own warplate growled, hunting.

 

+What have we here?+

 

Sabaan stood ready. Yet there was a chuckling unthought ringing through his system.

 

>>Why am I postulating the extremely high probability that we are about to pick up another pathetic mortal?<<

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Akkad:

 

Blackness. Absolute blackness. 

 

A blackness that defeats your occulobe, even your helm's visual auto-senses, is all that greets you. 

 

It seems to take more time than it should for you to realise that the darkness is surrounded by pallid skin that surrounds empty eye sockets, and a face that wears its anguish plainly.

 

As your helm-lamp stabs into the shaft you see a wretched figure throwing up an arm in defense as though to shield its face. Strange, you think, when considering the hollow eyes. She - it is a she, you think - wears a green robe akin to those executed in the chamber. You notice that her robe is edged in white, though darkly stained. Her age is hard to fathom; she wears a scarf about her head that swathes her face entirely, making her seem all the more frail and fragile. 

 

The las bolt that sizzles past your head perhaps forces you to re-evaluate your assessment. 

 

"Stay back!" she says, her accent different to the flat Syndallan voices you have heard before. "You won't take me as well." 

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She had missed of course - he had known that as soon as the barrel of the Laspistol twitched and he just knew.  Empty eyes in the darkness, blackness in the shadows.  Here was what he sought - one of the choir, a witness at worst.

 

The las-bolt burned across the left side of his helm, blistering and burning down the paint to form a thin line of steel across the black.  Solastion laid a hand on his shoulder, ready to pull him back, but they both relaxed at the words that followed.

 

"You won't take me as well!"

 

Defiance....a good sign.  Her accent was different - an off-worlder perhaps, this too could be a boon, not being locally connected could have insulated her from the casual infiltration of the xenoform, their insidious familial nature lending itself well to passing between family members.  Alternatively she may have brought it with her.  Her allegiance was unknown and he would have it from her.

 

She could not be blinded by the light, but she was so close she could feel the heat of it. He accessed his suit systems.

//Increase Lumens, 100 Candles//  the stab of light became a lance.  The hand shielding her face drew tighter around her, hugging the scarf close, drawing it to ward off the sudden, uncomfortable heat.

 

+Are you Loyal to the Emperor?+ No mercy in that voice, just a demand.  He gave her no clue, no help.  She twitched and her body clenched, he could well imagine her face contorting, wondering what would happen if spoke wrongly.  The laspistol levelled again, but she was shaking.

 

Let us see if she is faithful as well as defiant.  He kept the pistol on target in case that answer was no.

 

MR.

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Seeing the scene unfold before him, Tyber pulls a fragmentation grenade from his pouch, stepping closer to Akkad, gently tapping his helm with it  while putting it slightly in his view; +An option should it not be on our side.+ he said over the squad vox.

 

Still what the thing had said, had it seen that those in this room are Astartes and it’s words may imply that it had seen other Astartes in this room, committing this act, or was it simply frightened, shooting before seeing so to speak, either option did not bode well for this thing in the vent.

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++Well, Brother Akkad, what is it that so brashly provokes Astartes and yet cowers in the vents? Has the Emperor smiled upon us and spared one the death its comrades suffered?++ he had a suspicion; no other mortals would be within the tower and it had cried out in fear at being taken as well.

 

Sigh Yet another possible mortal they would have to look after - especially once such as this if his hunch was right; it would be their only method of communication with the wider Imperium. 

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Three factors saved the mortal from instant and utter destruction. Well, four, actually.

 

One was the brutal training regiment and hypno-conditioning that went into Astartes training and resulted in a literally unnatural firing discipline. A yell. The distinct snap of a las bolt. Any other force in the Galaxy would have opened fire, probably indiscriminately and rather enthusiastically and reduced whatever thing was hiding in the vent to bloody mess. The Astral Claw didn't even flinch.

 

The other two, no...three factors were called Damon Akkad, Solastion Alkibus ... and Tyber the Rash.

>>As usually rushing in where ... more mythical angels..Well, nevermind. It is a surprising he hasn't been blessed by the Iron yet..<<

Their power armored forms blocked a quick, direct line of fire. So, the figure continued to exist. For the moment. Facing the inquiry of the Devastator.

 

Sabaan moved slightly, servos whirring, to cover the team's flank. Whatever remained or attempted to move from the vent would face three Astartes already. Or just might want to draw in their attention.... The Iron Hand continued his augury, prepared for another ambush.

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The smile under his helm did not change, not as the Crimson Knight questioned, nor as the Ahu gently handled a grenade.  He switched to Squad Vox.

++It is an Astropath.  The robe is the same, but there are some differences.  I doubt she hails from this world.  My Apothecary, in your opinion, did a laspistol execute the others?++

He again upped the power of his helmet lamp.  It was now as high as it would go and the heat was actually drawing sweat freely he could see from the small part of her brow that was exposed.  A sob escaped the frail body, but hardened spirit.

 

"Yes!" She blurted, her whole frame clutching as she expected at any second the fatal shot.  Akkad killed the light and she sobbed once more.  He doffed his helm and waved Tyber back with a smile for his friend.

 

He reached in with one arm and gently took the pistol, handing it out to Solastion.  He refrained from using his left arm, the claw tipped fingers of his left gauntlet would have sliced her open.  He offered his other hand to her.

"Come daughter, we are the Emperor's Own Space Marines.  You're safe now."  Mostly, he did not add.  Both her hands, tiny things, he realised grasped his fingers, and he pulled steadily, making sure he did not jerk her, lest she was wounded.  "Is there anyone else in there?"

A small shake of the head was all he received in reply.

 

A slight thing was birthed from the dirty and dusty shaft, falling into his arms with sheer exhaustion.  He turned to the Apothecary and nodded, indicating for him to follow.  He stepped over to one of the empty caskets and laid her gently upon it, stepping back so that the Crimson Knight could work.  He patted the young surgeon on the shoulder and smiled at him gratefully.  He nodded to Tyber, still clutching the bomblet.  "Ahu, disinfect that hole."  The look on his face told the younger Marine he didn't mean with soap.

 

Turning again, he tore down the curtains, green velvet held back from the glazed panels of the windows, armoured glass of course, for such precaution was essential - and laid it over the bodies, hiding them from the girl.  Only then did he let out a breath he forgot he'd been holding, pulsing an appreciative blurt of cant to the Iron Hand for his preparedness.

 

MR.

 

OOC: I apologise if you wanted something else to happen Mol, I will edit as you declare.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Solastion:

As the girl is dragged out of the ventilation shaft by the Astral Claw, you see that she is slight, almost ridiculously small compared to your armoured forms. Her green robe is stained - and, indeed, you see that a wound in her stomach is sticky and wet with blood. As the Devastator releases her, she puts a hand out to steady herself, before sitting. 

 

"The Emperor delivered? I had hoped..." you see the words are taking a great deal of effort for her. "Praise be." 

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Kneeling by the pod that the Astral Claw had laid the Astropath down in, Solastion placed a comforting hand on her shoulder - as comforting as an Astartes-sized gauntleted hand being placed upon a petite and frail mortals body could be - and spoke words of comfort as his Diagnostor Helmet and Narthecium worked in tandem to scan and diagnose the psyker. His voice came through his vox grille as low as it could before just turning into an inaudible vox-growl due to how low their voices were to begin with.

 

"Indeed, the Emperor has brought us to this world to see it cleansed and brought back into his light. Now, save your energy, we will bring you up to speed once you are in better condition." he said as he applied 1/1000th of a regular Astartes Tranquilizer so that he might work on treating her abdominal injury.

 

Solastion will attempt to perform first aid on her with his Medicae of 75 before other modifiers; at work so no dice rollers or anything but yeh!

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Tyber picked up the vent cover with one hand, while pressing the activation stud on the grenade with the other, setting a 3 second count. With a quick fluid motion he tossed in the fragmentation grenade while slapping the vent cover back in place. With a muffled thump of the fragmentation grenade doing it's work in a confined space, Tyber relaxed while watching with interest at the mortal that was being tended too.

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