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[Mazer Rackham]

 

 

=][= DEATHWATCH: SOLO PLAY =][=

 

=][= KILL MARINE: OPERATION MIDNIGHT =][=

 

 

The Halls approaching the Mirador, Watch Station Andronicus.

 

 

 

 

F

or forty years the Quarantine around Argoth, Kaggeran and Rheelas knew no outside contact except the cold, uncaring vigil of the Imperial Navy.  The millions of people below once belonged to The Unity, a Tau-led human alliance that ruled all three planets.  The Lord Militant, Sebascior Ebongrave decreed that there should be a total blockade, to starve the peoples, until such time as the hives, standing in the wastelands would be empty of seditionists.

 

On a mission to save the souls of the deviants below, a ship from the Ecclesiarchy, operating on the thinnest tolerance from Ebongrave, entered Argoth orbit to broadcast Imperial Liturgies to the lost.  The vox and hololithic transmissions lasted for a single day, until The Cardinal Virtues was shot down with all hands.

 

It was a disaster.  Watch Captain Procion of the Iron Knights laced his fingers as he listened to the reports come in via vox.  The direct transmission carried the panic and the screaming of the Imperial vessel as it plunged into the atmosphere of a hostile planet.  The environment of Argoth was inimical to human life and if the Soulship came down in the wastes, they were finished.  Usually, he would have no compassion for the people lost.  They had spent years petitioning Ebongrave and finally they wandered, unprotected into a warzone.

 

There was, however, a wrinkle to the issue which caused his thoughts to linger on the deaths of thousands.  Among them was an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos, along with their retinue.  Across the desk, folded into the deep leather chair opposite, sat a powerful, tall man wrapped in the red-black robes of the Inquisition.  His hood lay in a fold across his shoulders and at the meeting of the glance, his blue eyes looked away.

 

Procion could read the discomfort, even so tightly controlled.  He heard the deeply augmented tones of his own voice as he asked the necessary question.  "They were your people, Markus.  What do you want done?"

 

"Have we got anyone available?"

 

"All my Kill Teams are spoken for on the Greyhell front.  I have a new warrior diverted from Erioch."

 

Markus Hadrax smiled, the tension pulling around his eyes.  "Bring him in.  We'll see what he can do."

Edited by Mazer Rackham, 20 November 2020 - 12:49 AM.

[TechCaptain]

Journeyman Marfóir Lugh sat extremely still in his seat as the drop-ship delivered him to his new assignment. The trusted humans of the Deathwatch that operated their transports looked at him oddly, for they were use to marines. However, he stood out to them with his helmet off and an owl on his shoulder both so still that statues make more movement on a voyage such as they had been on. Little did they know his cybernetic eye that glowed a dark green and that of Avatre was recording various statistics of every person and object in their field of view right down to very precise measurements for reaction times. He wasn't being unfriendly just lost in the thought of another mission, and soon to be more rivets added to his armor. With a jolt they had docked, and with that his sudden movement to the door grabbing his helmet on the way startled those that had been working around him. Before they could gather their wits he was in the transfer tube between ship gravity and station gravity. 
 
He landed neatly before the station keeper who was checking manifests without a hint of sound. The station keeper asked for his name and checked his papers allowing Lugh on through. Without any fanfare he made his way to the office to which he was to report. In his mind as he walked he replayed the words of the Blood Seeker, a Master famed for his blood thirsty pursuit of foes. 

"Marfóir Lugh, you again operated outside the parameters of your seniors. We have a lot of leeway for getting the mission done, but this ridiculous. You don't pursue and have twice been ambushed because your brothers didn't know to watch your back. Well I have had enough, you are no longer 2nd Company until you can learn to work with others, other than that blasted toy of the Artificers. I don't know what the Hunt Master thought assigning you to my Company.  *sigh* You are to go on a long vigil. Don't bring disgrace to our Chapter. You have potential kid if you don't get killed first."
 
There wasn't much that could be said to that tirade, so he accepted his Master's words. But still his mind thought he accomplished the mission, further each of those ambushes he won even in close combat. Though he did lose his first hunting knife made of Damhán Alla Fang. Well that Durkari will come back into his sights sometime it was a matter of time. He was a patient hunter, besides he had something of hers as well. She will come to him and meet the Death that Xenos like her deserve. 
 
As his thoughts returned to the present he knocked on the Office door and was commanded to enter. "Reporting as ordered, Deathwatch Master. I am Journeyman Marfóir Lugh of the Bloodmoon Hunters, you have need of my services?" As he spoke, his eyes flicked to the Human Inquisition Representative in the room assessing him, just as he does all that enter his sights. A cold chill would have been felt by those under such assessment for it could be seen that he already was favoring his Chapter's mentality that all are prey eventually.

[Mazer Rackham]

At your sweeping entrance, both officers of the Deathwatch stand out of courtesy.  Procion appears unmoved, his blunt features a blank slate, betraying nothing except for piercing eyes.  The face of the Inquisitor is more animated as he studies you, giving you the impression he is committing all to memory.  He pulls the sleeves of his robes down and folds his arms under them.  Symbols of the Ordo Xenos sit boldly in golden icons hung from the belt at his waist.

 

"Welcome, Brother Lugh," the Iron Knight nods formally, sable power armour gleaming in stark contrast to the electro-bonded silver sleeve of his left arm.  "This is Inquisitor Hadrax.  Your arrival is fortuitous, since we have little time and the situation is...delicate."  Procion's eyes shift from yours to capture a glance from Hadrax.

 

"We will explain everything after you have sworn the Apocryphon Oath," Hadrax says affably, as if the Oath is a mere formality.

 

Procion frowns and it is clear he does not share the thought.

 

+++++

 

The Place of Oathing is deserted but for you, Watch Captain Procion and a serf from the armoury, the seal of the Watch on his robes and augmented flesh as he holds a sheathed Relic Blade.  The quality is evident from what you can see of the hilt and pommel.  The weapon is well worn, the metal and leather oiled to a deep, chocolate brown.  Dozens of purity seals adorn it with thick strips of vellum falling each, a tale of heroism every one.  Bareheaded, as required, you can smell the fresh ink on the seal Procion hands you.

 

"And do you, Journeyman Marfóir Lugh, scion of the Bloodmoon Hunters, swear your loyal service to the Deathwatch as long as needed?  Do you swear to stand tall beside your brothers, even as a single blade, to combat the Xenos threat - even though it cost you your life?  And do you, now and forever swear to uphold the secrets of the Deathwatch, or be cast out in disgrace as an oathbreaker?"

 

Procion waited.  The words should have broken and faded into the corners of that vast space, where angels cast in adamantine and chased silver stared down sternly, blades drawn in silent threat, but they didn't.  They lingered in powerful echoes, shuddering against walls with ten-thousand years of memory.

 

The silence drew on.  Heavy.

 

EDIT: I forgot to add a bit of direction - it might be at this point that instead of directly answering, we see a little bit of Marfóir's thoughts at this strange brotherhood, his expectations of his new duties and his perceptions of his dual commitments to the Deathwatch and Inquisition and the secrecy around it.  His antics have sent him here - does he relish the opportunity?  That kind of thing - go nuts!

Edited by Mazer Rackham, 23 November 2020 - 06:03 PM.

[TechCaptain]

The solemn heavy air settled as a great weight landed on all present shoulders but for Lugh it seemed no heavier than usual. His eyes gleamed in that room of history. This brotherhood was both nothing like his own and just like them in so many ways. More ways than Lugh really cared to think about in his mind, but that was not what steadied him and made him hold his tongue for just a moment. No, what made him hold the moment for just a bit longer was that he could feel this was to be a moment for teams and unity but there was none for him. Just like in the Bloodmoon Hunters, teams and connections were concepts that didn't really seem all that real to him. What was real however was the seriousness he was taking with the Oath.

"I, Journeyman Marfóir Lugh of the Emperor's Huntsmen, swear to uphold the long vigil's hunt for the prey of this galaxy in the form of the Xenos menace. Their blood shall drench the moons of many worlds and their hide shall become trophies of the legacy in which I shall serve until no longer needed. The secrets of this shall be buried under the bones of the dead and shall not leave my lips even upon the whisper of Death's embrace for I am one of Death's incarnate taking the lives of those that have been designated as my prey. I, Scion of the Bloodmoon Hunters, am here to serve as my Masters have bayed and will uphold the oath till time immaterial."

The Cyber-owl rested on one of the statues, nodded it's own affirmation of keeping of the oath as well. It was much more than a pet, it was an extension of Lugh as well as a weapon in his arsenal. They as a team were very solemn and neither the voice of Lugh nor the feathers and steel of Avatre disturbed the atmosphere, instead it seemed to intensify it in a way almost indescribable. Here was a Hunter born and bred avowing to hunt not in the name of his Chapter but in the name of the Deathwatch. His many talks with the Artificers of his Chapter has somewhat prepared him for this moment but it was different actually living the moment. The intensity of his gaze spoke of his nature as a sniper, and even as he locked eyes with his new Master, the Watch Captain of the station, one could see why it was a bad idea to be caught in his scope.

The Inquisition Representative was a mere side thought of Lugh's. For he was yet another man like so many he worked for in the shadows, the Deathwatch it seemed was much like his home full of secrets and secrecy. All are in service of the Omnissah or the God-Emperor, whichever his called at the time, but each has their own agenda in that service. He had worked with the Inquisition in the past, even have worked with sects of the Mechanicus, but this is the first time with Angels of Death that were not his brothers. He was suppose to learn teamwork and reliance but it seems he will get to do what he does best, figuring out things in his own way. Many new opportunities for Prey or to end up the hunted in this service.

Edited by TechCaptain, 25 November 2020 - 03:48 AM.

[Mazer Rackham]

The thoughts of an opportunity seized, new oaths and undertakings mixing with old familiarities bleed away as later that evening, you stand in the spinward dock of Watch Station Andronicus.  A ship awaits you, and piled around you are provisions and weapons, both for Astartes and humans alike.  The ubiquitous Deathwatch Chapter serfs, accompanied by trains of servitors load the vessel - a civilian corvette equal in size and apparent armament to the small monitors possessed by the Imperial Navy.  Upon the Hunt, you have come across several makes of warship, all built from the hallowed Standard Template Construct.

 

This is not one them.

 

The ship is angular, almost jagged in some of its construction.  Your eye perceives that the slabs of plating covering the vessel, which would provide deflection against projectiles, are nowhere near the amount of protection a normal monitor class would carry.  The hue of the metal is strange, almost black varying into purple, and there are no marks of fealty or association on the ship.  No proud emblems or defiant gargoyles.  Nothing, bar the fact that it is Imperial in origin.

 

Your familiar must likewise sense the oddness as the owl's tiny feet shuffle on your left pauldron, gripping the rim.

 

You recognise Inquisitor Hadrax as he sweeps onto the quay, his retainers in tow.  A squad of robed adepts, Stormtroopers and Mechwrights all spill in his wake.  He is armed and armoured for battle, a suit of polished silver powered armour, inlaid with martial reliefs.  The limbs of the suit are heavily fluted, providing protection whilst reducing weight.  In fit and shape it is more akin to the Sororitas than your own blunt, hardy shell.

 

At his hip are a hostered bolt pistol and power sword, although this latter is more in the style of a rapier and matches the dagger sheathed beside it.  His cloak is arterial red, much like his robes, and the gold symbols of office now drop from his neck on thick gold chains.  He makes straight for you.

 

"Journeyman," he nods, "what do you think of her?" he sweeps his hand up and down the vessel, a slight smile on his lips that is hard to read.

[TechCaptain]

Journeyman Lugh looked at the Inquisitor and simply raised his eyebrow at the pride of the mortal, but he obliged and looked around a bit more critically. There was no harm and taking his time in answering as he thought of ships past, comparing them to this odd one. The very lack of markings made it unusual but not alarming to the Hunter who has had to hide his own markings a time or two. With that same solemn deep voice Lugh answered the Inquisitor frankly. 

 

"I am no Artificer to talk on what little technical specifications a quick boarding would have provided me. From what I see this should be a fast vessel that would raise little fuss outside of Imperial worlds. On Imperial worlds I would worry more about not being identified but I assume your own comms could handle that. So it meets specifications of a mission for the T'au occupied space. Commendable for that fore thought."

 

He was obviously unuse to small talk or really much interaction beyond his scope but at least he wasn't unfriendly. He's response seems to be of someone focused again on the task on hand and very little devoted to factors that won't affect that task. 

[Mazer Rackham]

Hadrax smiles thinly at your pragmatism.  "The Accipiter Nihilus carries more than a little forethought."

 

He steps aside as a procession of acolytes in black and red robes marches past you both, bare feet making the odd slapping noise when flesh meets metal deck.  They are led by a tall serf carrying a stave terminating in a broad and gilded icon of the Inquisition, and censers droop from the stave, filling the immediate space around the hatch of the embarkation umbilical with heady smoke.

 

You can see that each acolyte is bound into a chain that wraps and fixes to the one behind, and they are muttering under their breath in unison.  The cuffs binding them to their procession are bright quiksilver and cut deeply with sigils of warding.

 

"We have made room for you in the chambers below mine, towards the bow.  All areas of the ship are open to you, Journeyman - except Grey Deck.  Make no footfall past bulkhead Seventeen."  It is clear that Hadrax is not making a threat as he waves to his entourage and follows the procession in.  As you come inside behind them, you cannot miss the meltwater stirring as you pass, the frost vanishing into rivulets that puddle at your feet.

 

From this point on, we are going to assume you are underway and the files concerning Operation Midnight have been disclosed to you.  The Ecclesiarchy ship, The Cardinal Virtues was carrying an Ordo Xenos strike team led by one of Hadrax's most trusted acolytes, on a secret mission to the surface.  The objective was asset recovery - of an item that could shape the efforts against the Tau in the Canis Salient.

 

Life beacons have been detected in the wastes around the crashed Ecclesiarchy ship, one of them matching Inquisition signals.  The status of the mission and the team is unknown.  It has now become a two-stage mission of Rescue (Secondary) and Recovery (Primary).

 

Most if not all examples of the Deathwatch arsenal have been brought aboard the Accipiter and you should consider this the opportunity to engage in the Arming Phase, which is where you requisition the equipment you will need.  Please refer to the Discussion Thread to see how this will work.

 

Of course your character is still free to ask questions of Hadrax or explore the ship in the interim.

[TechCaptain]

" As you wish, Inquisitor." Lugh responded to his restriction from bulkhead seventeen. As soon as he was dismissed from the Inquisitor's sight he immediately went to his quarters and began reviewing all revelent data of the mission, including but not limited to technical specifications of the downed ship. life pod specifications. beacon information, terrain, population reports, weather pattern, etc. Lugh reviewed everything and he did this as he cleaned and organized his weapons and ammunition. It was well known among the intelligence types that the T'au possessed strange advance technologies that are heretical but knowing that he could prepare with his weapons. Direct confrontation would need to be avoided. Those beacons were likely to be traps even if they were legitimate distress calls. As far as he was concerned careful planning was needed. 

[Mazer Rackham]

A quick transit across the perilous Jericho Reach is uneventful, but you are provided with refuges from the many helots that serve upon the Accipiter.  The first is the Armourium Magna, a a grand name for a mere weapons room, solely for use by Astartes.  Festooned with devices and equipment of many and varied patterns, such as the Combi-Bolter and Astartes Shotgun now in your hands.  The well-worn gear has a history of many hands.  You ae not the first Marine to be here.

 

Pouches filled with ammunition and tools, you have zeroed the weapons in the dorsal spine passageway, an area frequented by none who would observe you.

 

A chamber put aside for your use is the third refuge, surrounded by the trappings of your beyond-human, warrior existence.  The Owl watches your every step and pace, augmetic lenses making the faintest purr and click.

 

Four days later, you are summoned to the bridge by a chime in your cell.  Collecting your cyber-familiar you tramp up to the control centre of the ship, to find Hadrax and the Ship's Captain waiting for you.  On one of the screens turns a world in torment, both in the literal sense and deep in it's soul.  The aural reports from sensoria aboard Accipter demonstrates howling and gunfire, mass rioting and a world in collapse.  The visual feeds show the silent planet rotating under a canopy of grey cloud, the skin of the world, just blasted rock and ash, unbreathable air outside the crumbling hive cities and habs.

 

On another panel, you can easily determine the Argoth Blockade Task Force.  Defence Monitors, fat and wallowing pass nearby the hololithic replica of the ship that harbours you, along with cruciform formations of Sword Frigates.

 

One relay picter reveals the last resting place of The Cardinal VIrtues, a Defiant-class frigate, her Voss Forgeworld prow and body broken into three places at the head of a scar in the ground.  The Inquisition cyphers emanate from a crashed pod some eight kilometres from the nearest hab-slum, and sixteen kilometres from the crashed vessel.  The decaying Imperial conurbation has a section exposed to the elements on a high bastion, which could provide entry.

 

There are no clear life signs reported at any of the locations, but scattered comms-traffic floats across the bridge, encrypted signals from the blockade fleet, other life-pods and the last messages in binharic from the Ecclesiarchy vessel herself.  Other, indistinct traffic of a xenos runeform is being analysed by acolytes.

 

Hadrax turns to you. "We have an armoured Argus Lighter that will carry us and a detachment of Stormtroopers to the surface."

 

He extends his arm to direct your attention to the hololith showing the zones of interest below.

 

"Where shall we land, Journeyman?"

[TechCaptain]

Lugh leaned towards the screens as he examined the possibilities. Here was his moment to make some educated guesses, in his mind he reviewed numbers and geography to match the data. A world in turmoil was actually better for this kind of mission. " Inquisitor do you have the drop ships to spare as decoys? The Tech Heretics of the T'au are known for their sorcery with tracking and use of technology. I suggest that the stormtroopers and I take the approach of recon on the ground some distance from the life pod nearest the entrance to the Ship. Clearing that of probable traps will give us a ground location to work with."

[Mazer Rackham]

Hadrax rubs his chin thoughtfully and nods at your suggestion, the slight smirk on his face matching his appreciating glance as he inclines his head in reply.

 

"Regrettably, we have no powered craft that could mimic our landing," he pushes a finger through one of the hololithic runes, bringing up another list of materiel. "But we could seed the zone with torpedoes.  Null warheads, explosives replaced with Screamers."

 

The solution isn't perfect, but will mask your presence on the surface from any basic surveillance devices and possibly cause confusion.  He finalises the plans with the Captain of the Accipiter and the Lighter is made ready.  As you stand in the hangar bay, the Techpriests are busy welding slabs of ablative armour over the reinforced hull, the extra weight will make the ship drop like a rock, but you gauge that it will hold up to anything short of a direct hit by a light defence laser.

 

At least you won't die to a flak shell.

 

Hadrax shows you the proposed landing zone.  Two kilometres from the pod nearest the carcass of the Divine Virtues, it rests in a depression among a triangle of rocky outcrops.  It is easily defensible and partially hidden in the wastes.  As you study the map, the Stormtroopers march in, their normal black outfits hastily coated with ash-grey paint.  They carry nothing shiny, their carapace armour dulled with Nullflec.  They handle their Kantrael Hellguns confidently, the weapons well-used.  Among their number, one hefts a meltagun, but that is where any disparity ends.  All of their faces are hidden behind hostile environment gear, and could have been squeezed from a press-mould.  Their power-packs hum in a similar harmony to your own warplate as you move.  The subtle electricity enough to set teeth on edge.

 

The Techpriests finish their ministrations and hurl blessed oils upon the vehicle.  The amber lights of disembarkation flare into being.

 

"Journeyman, if you have any last business to take care of aboard ship - now is the time."

 

Hadrax speaks to you, but looks at the owl on your shoulder, wings parting and closing as it shifts.

[TechCaptain]

Lugh shook his head. "I am done here, the Hunt has begun. Be sure to spread out the charges to confuse their directional search otherwise they will know to look away from the distraction. Maybe a few torpedos of actual explosives against soft targets to create more uncertainty of where we are going will help. Troopers, remember we don't have the numbers for direct conflict so hold fire until there is no other choice once we are down there. Stealth is our ally." Lugh closed his own helmet and headed directly for the transport with little emotion showing but his eagerness for the Hunt was showing in his stride and stance. Under his helm his face held a feral grin of anticipation as his mind went over the situation and possible reactions of his opponents. Part of his abilities comes from putting himself in the mind of the enemy. He assumes they are at least as smart as him and otherwise assumes all his plans will fail and makes sure there is always a contingency. 

[Mazer Rackham]

Hadrax acknowledges your orders with a curt nod to his troops, and the one at the end of the line throws up a salute as you pass, to fall in behind you in perfect formation.

 

The controls of the Argus are immediately taken by one of the troopers, who breaks off to run past you and mount up.  Hadrax himself affixes a power armour helm into place, his communications suite appending to your Deathwatch cyphered channels and subnets only.  The rest of your augurs report no intrusion.

 

Once in, the Lighter is sealed.  No-one speaks, clamping their weapons into the racks.  Whether they do not speak because of your order or if merely out of habit is unknown.  Likewise Hadrax says nothing, instead accessing a strategium link, which illuminates the troop compartment of the very spartan and claustrophobic re-entry vehicle.  It displays the situation in hololithic brilliance, illum-picters matching the activity of the Accipiter with what you can see through the armoured glass portholes.

 

Several long silver needles break from the bow tubes, angled to fire on the world below.  They scatter broadly, the pattern easy to see even to those without a head for orbital bombardment.  Some merely drift on low power, others speed away like sharks on the hunt, a feeling all too familiar to you.  These are marked by crimson runes, indicating live explosive warheads as you suggested.

 

+Confusion will be maximised, Journeyman.  First the bang, then the noise across several spectra.  The falling torpedoes will also mask our Lighter's descent.+ the vox cuts off cleanly, the Inquisitor not expecting a reply.

 

As he speaks, the pilot tilts the nose of the cramped shuttle towards the broad beam of thick clouds that hide the grey slab of poisoned rock beneath it.

 

++++++++++++

 

The descent is interrupted by the briefest of augur warnings, before the alarm dissipates to nothing.  Thumps of defence flak explode well off to Starboard, easily missing the Argus and proving your precautions valid.  A missile streaks down, no doubt searching for the offending turret.

 

+We're five minutes away, lord+ advises the pilot as he begins to swerve towards the landing zone.

 

The Argus settles down in the pre-agreed defensive location and the troopers unfasten their harnesses.  The hatch at the back blows out with an expulsion of oxygen rich atmosphere, to be replaced by the harsh, cold wind.  Your armour detects the toxins present, and whilst you could breathe for some time without your sealed suit, thanks to your gene-forged implants, it would be exceptionally unpleasant.

 

Hadrax joins you in your vigil of the immediate terrain, the soldiers waiting for your lead.  The tactical display uploaded to your helmet shows the relative position of the life pod you requested to be settled beside.  Two Kilometres, northeast.  Behind you the soldiers pull tank netting over the Argus to camouflage it.  Soon the sand and grit build up will hide it from all but your sensors.  You set off, wide boot prints displacing the millennia old dust beneath your heavy cleats.

 

+++++++++++++

 

TBC.

 

MR.

[Mazer Rackham]

The salvation pod was once proudly polished and stamped with symbols of both the Imperial Navy and the Ecclesiarchy, but the conditions of the planet Argoth have scratched patches of the ceramite coating back to bare, dulled steel.  There are footprints in the wake of the churned soil from the pod's forced landing, although almost buried, they are visible to your enhanced senses.  The letters on the pod are scuffed and burned by re-entry, but the ship it belongs to is all to clear.

 

The Cardinal Virtues.

 

You are on the right track.

 

You may make a Hard(-20) Perception test, with Degrees of Success providing more information.

[TechCaptain]

Lugh was ready for a trap as soon as they landed for no other reason than the enemy had to know they were up to something. Quickly however he calmed his mind with a focused mind on the mission at hand. Up he sent his owl to scout the surroundings as he took a closer look at their immediate location. Bending down Lugh used his ancestry as a hunter growing up on the Toxic and Acidic homeworld of the Bloodmoon has made him especially aware of even the smallest signs. At any given moment back then death was an old friend with spiders and toxins inhabiting even the most unlikely of places. Even Space Marines have a hard time living there. 

 

Either way he examined the soil, the surroundings, and even flipped to various visions to include thermal and scoped sight to the area allowing the StromTroopers and the Inquisitor about securing the current Operations area. If this was a Bloodmoon Hunter Operation his team would be setting up traps in the area but in this case it was up to the Inquisitor what he wanted. 

[Mazer Rackham]

Hadrax and the Stormtroopers make way for you as you cast your eyes about and trace small patterns through the muddled sands and shale.

 

There were three survivors from the salvation pod, they took the water and corpse-starch emergency rations.  Your eyes are not tricked by the shifting scene.  It looks like one of them wandered away from the pod, towards the wreck of the Ecclesiarchy ship, then turned around and came back, only to move away again.  Their footprints are more prominent the second time, determined.  Perhaps an argument took place.

 

Another tracker would have missed the earlier imprints, but a Bloodmoon Hunter is no such ordinary man.

 

The two other survivors remained steady, waiting, then one set of disturbed tracks for two people leads toward the Hive city, their heelprints mere thumbholes in the earth.

 

Hadrax carefully steps close to you, awaiting the decision from your deliberations.  He remains silent, letting you think and observe.

 

And then you see it.

 

There is an area completely devoid of marks, yet the ridges of built up granules run contrary to the wind, a shallow furrow caused by the displacement of something that didn't touch the ground, but definitely was controlled.  The subtle trench heads after the lone wanderer, towards the hulk violating Argoth's abrasive skin.

 

+Which way+ Hadrax finally asks, his voice across the vox the only noise but for the wind.

[TechCaptain]

"Depends, Lord. Do you want to focus only on the primary objective or split up and try for speed on all objectives?" Lugh in his kneeled form pointed down the path with the dual set of tracks. "That way two of your survivors has gone to be the decoy against the enemy. " Then he pointed to the double tracked single path, "This I believe is a true decoy path as he walked over his own steps. Your Acolyte is good. Very Good. This should give us a lead on any other trackers." He finally pointed in the 'not path', "If you look closely one went this way which is what makes me think the one who double tracked his steps actually went this way. With the importance you have emphasized, I believe this is your Acolyte and this is the path I will follow. But know our own tracks will be visible which will make his attempts to hide his path moot unless we take similar precautions. I suggest at least some of the Storm Troopers get the decoys before they get themselves killed." 

 

Lugh sat back on his heels at the last of his words and looked up to his bird, syncing himself to him. Looking through the owl's mechanical eye Lugh directed the owl to search the path they plan on going looking for ambushes and the survivors. Further to get an eye for how far away various other groups maybe. His mind taking the information on what is seen to plan their movements and how to cover themselves. 

[Mazer Rackham]

Hadrax flicks his arm, and a squad of three Stormtroopers sets off after the two survivors from the pod who walked together.  He begins to follow the direction you indicated, the lone wanderer the quarry they sought.

 

Only a few hundred metres on, and there is a more recent mark easy to see.  A broad, cloven-hoof print in the ground, several inches across.  It matches no Imperial tank tread, Dreadnought foot or Sentinel Walker step.

 

Beyond, several kilometres away, the hulk of the Cardinal Virtues is revealed through gaps torn in the curtain of sand and grit.  Her Voss Shipyard prow still proudly pointing towards the stars as if trying to rise from her terrible grave, but otherwise she is still.

 

+Lord Hadrax, Journeyman,+ the vox crackles with atmospheric distortion, +we have found the others.+

 

The voice of the anonymous Stormtrooper is heavy as you stare at the unmistakeable boot print of a Tau Stealth Suit.  Th earlier signs now make sense.  The aliens have been travelling on jetpacks to mask their presence.

 

+Journeyman, we are in your hands.  What do we do?+

 

There is a strange electric buzz in the air that makes the skin of your armour tingle and your augurs detect ghostly returns.

[TechCaptain]

Lugh said a single word in a gravely whisper, "Trap." Without much fanfare he lifted his Bolter/Shotgun into a ready position. His hands without really looking readied it for the fight he knew that was to come. "Your Acolyte is followed by Stealth Warriors of the T'au. And we just walked into their rearguard. Defensive positions." This was the bad part of any hunt when one falls into one's own hubris. Though due to his paranoia they had walked carefully to this spot so he wasn't caught unprepared. Using his bionic eye he flipped through spectrums to find any inconsistence in the space around them as he waved the men to defensive positions. Hopefully they haven't alerted the rearguard yet. He tried to judge the age of the tracks to determine how much time they had prepared and to correspond his level of reaction, he wanted to eliminate them silently if at all possible otherwise speed is going to become even more important.   

[Mazer Rackham]

Your instincts have served you well.  Without thinking, you have naturally gravitated to a small dip in the landscape which would serve as a covered, yet hasty fighting position.  Around you, the Stormtroopers and Hadrax do the next best thing and drop to their bellies, facing in every direction.

At least they aren't fools.

 

Taking a moment to scan the tracks for age reveals they are some hours old and continue on for some way.  In response to your defensive posture, there is a shimmer .  Water, heat, whatever: it is a flex in the picture of the ash waste, and accompanied by the whine of gravitic motivators.  A small disc shaped object, with oddly organic telescopic features, twitches into being and hurriedly makes off as fast as it can towards the crash site.  It is joined by another.

 

At this point we'd roll into initiative, but we're going to try and keep it lighter.

 

It is obvious to you that the route taken was monitored by Stealth Drones, no doubt supporting the battlesuits, to warn of interlopers.  If you want to try a silent elimination the targets count as small and running, a cumulative -30 to hit them with firearms.  However, the wind is a factor against the small Drones, and this will reduce their speed to 20 metres a turn.  Drone A is currently 25m away, and Drone B behind it at 20m.

 

​There are no penalties to detect them as their stealth fields are inactive, choosing flight over deception, but they cannot be too far from their masters.

[TechCaptain]

With a crooked smile hidden in his helmet, Lugh handled his sniper Bolter and tweaked the windage of the telescopic scope on it to account for the near range. Loaded with normal Bolts for the moment that would be rendered near silent by design, he aimed carefully. He was aware however he had little time luckily he was a Sniper and a Master at the Bolter. With precision borne of practice and natural talent, he fired shots at each of the drones. There was no point trying to out race them and tip their hands. But at the same time it bothered him they would try to race like that, so his suspicious mind knowing they have been there for at least an hour wondered if there was more to this for that is a long ways back for a rearguard even drones. Decoy's are a thing, so while he was taking his shots his bird flew ahead to take a similar look to about an hour ahead of them based off projected speed of their enemy. The wind hindering the drones, actually helped his owl as it gave him lift. 

 

Shot Flat Roll: 26 (Distance is not much of a factor with his rifle yet.)

Edited by TechCaptain, 20 January 2021 - 11:16 PM.

[Mazer Rackham]

I'm going to consider the attack roll as against both targets.  They are close enough by minute-of-angle if not distance for your attack to strike both.

 

The cyber-owl soars upwards as your Stalker rifle barrel swings up in tandem.  Two predators, two prey.  The sight picture is not vexed by the conditions and your eyes and helm augurs synchronise.  As the heart thumps in your chest, so you feel the bob and weave of the targets, expecting where they will go by hunter's instinct.

 

The rounds crash out, a quick double-tap that find the fleeing drones.  The mass-reactive rounds bury in the flimsy, almost plastek like casings of the flying discs and pop them open with a disappointing crack.  A shear of metal and circuits dies in the wind and Argoth claims two more carcasses to rot and rust in the forgotten waste.

 

Hadrax picks himself up from the ground and gestures to his men to spread out in an arrow with you at the tip.  The three men who followed the other pod survivors return bearing a las pistol, barrel detonated from use, and the ID tags of two Ecclesiarchy helots.

 

+You were right Journeyman, the sole survivor must be my agent.  We must press on.+ He gestures for you to lead off.

 

The downed ship lies but a few leagues away.  As the bird spies it, he elicits an eerie call only you can hear, signifying something of import.

 

And as Argoth's sun sets, there is the wink and no more, of Imperial weapons firing in the dark and slashing grit.  It would appear the ship's corpse is not quite dead.

[TechCaptain]

With a grunt, Marfóir picked up his brass and pushed the still heated metal into spots on his armor that described in code Bloodmoon Hunters stats on T'au. The brail like writing on his armor was an ever growing set of notes on sniping and his enemies. Lugh then looked to his cyber-owl syncing his sight with his owl pausing only for a few seconds to settle the double vision as they moved out. The cyber-owl made best speed to the shooting as Lugh maintained their careful pace towards where the trail led. His eyes sharp for more Stealth units looking for the smallest disturbances in the air or on the ground. +Careful now, when these drones fail to check in the enemy will be alert to an attack from the rear.+ 

 

Marfóir's mind cycled through the knowledge of the two drones, marking where their corpses fell in the map being built by his suits array of equipment. If it wasn't for the need of the mission he would recover what he could of the fallen for study back in the Deathwatch station. To know one's enemies, is to know one's self. T'au were some of the most advance techno sorcerers around even their heretical ways could be studied to find patterns and methods to make him a more effective hunter of their kind. But with an Inquisitor close at hand he didn't even want to suggest such in case he was one of the more Puritan Sects of their elusive kind. Either way though his excellent memory took note of where the shells had landed and the maneuverability of the drones as they tried to flee. Much was learned by even that small assassination of rear guard equipment. 

 

Use of Drones in Stealth and use of Stealth suits for a pursuit of what should be known as Imperial Survivors is a bit extensive for what would be considered Routine for even the Astra Militarum speaks to the possible intelligence ramifications of the hunt. Do these Xenos Scum have some knowledge of who they are hunting? If not why the precautions against pursuit? There was more to this even now than meets the eye. Further his logic spoke to him the Inquisitor knows something of this and is hiding it for this to be a surprise. A larger military response is likely if this isn't handled quietly or quickly. +Inquisitor, when we get your man, we are going to need quick evac of him. And probably more misdirection help from the blockade. 

Edited by TechCaptain, 21 January 2021 - 11:17 PM.