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Jagged Tooth Grin
10-10-2004, 08:58 PM
Mud splashed on the heavy robes of the dark figure as he stumbled again. Picking himself up, and trying not to think about what he tripped over in the darkness, the robed man moved off. He could hear them chasing, the rusted metal of the pipe he was travelling echoed the sounds from a fair way off, and while not close, he knew that they would catch him soon. The pipe was as dark as the starless night on the surface above, punctuated occasionally by the patchwork of light from a grating or small holes from the rust. In the distance he could hear an inhuman cry, and shivering, he hurried along. In his hand, Levinus carried the final message of a dead man. The old man, who to Levinus had always seemed a titan of humanity, unstoppable, lay on the end of the tunnel from which he was now fleeing, torn apart by twisted shapes. Soaked in blood, Mud and sewage, Levinus finally came to the grate he was looking for, and with a heave, he kicked the rusted metal off its hinges. He could hear his pursuers were getting closer, and as he dropped from the pipe he landed awkwardly and stifled a cry of pain. Hobbling down the passageway he paused briefly to throw a small present for his followers in the pipe. A frag grenade on a thirty second fuse, knowing full well it wouldn't stop them. Levinus offered a brief prayer to the Emperor, hoping that the small explosive device would at least slow them down long enough to complete his task. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light in the passage, he limped down the corridor.

Ramon Hapethess sat upright in a shot, awake instantly, mumbling to himself he lay back down on his pallet bed and prepared to sleep. An explosion in the bowels of the palace where he now slept, a punishment for falling out of favour with the governor, was hardly a new occurrence. Boilers blew at least twice a week, this week had been especially bad, thought Ramon as he prepared to sleep, that was the seventh in as many nights.
But Ramon's silent reverie was broken by the noise of a sharp knock on the door. 'Who could be calling at this hour' he muttered under his breath before calling out.
“Who is it disturbing an old mans sleep?”
The only immediate reply was a loud bang as the door shook on its hinges, after a brief second a voice called out
“Open the door this instant or I will take it off at the hinges!”
Ramon picked his way across the floor in the pitch darkness with practised ease before unlatching the door.
“Identify yourself, or I shall call the palace guards” he stated to no avail as the intruder swept past him and slammed the door closed. He heard rather than saw the flickering of a candlewick being lit, and began again to protest this intrusion as the unknown figure began dragging the pallet bed across the doorway
“Who are you? And why have you forced yourself into my chambers at such a late hour?” he inquired again, this time with slightly better results.
“My name is irrelevant, you will know me only as Inquisitor.” Stated Levinus with much more command than the young apprentice felt, before trusting a signet ring into the hands of the old astropath.
Ramon's sightless eyes widened upon feeling the rings symbols
“I apologise my liege, I did not know. You sound young for one of such a honoured profession”
“Any further questioning of my age or status will result in your execution, now do as I say and relay this message” Levinus barked, anxious that his minor ruse hold out, he may only be an Inquisitorial acolyte, but his message and mission are both that of a fully fledged Inquisitor, one who died just minutes ago to send it, and he would not fail now. Handing the bewildered astropath a small plate with engraved code. “Be on with it!”
Ramon could not understand any of this coded message, but he did not need to in order to be able to relay it, and so he began, opening his mind up to the warp and reaching out towards those whose only job was to listen to such calls. A process he had done many times before today, but this time was different, it felt as though something was blocking his calls, pushing him down and drowning out his cries. Struggling against this unseen force he persisted.
So deep was his concentration, so disconnected from his body was his thoughts, that he hardly heard the small shrine to the emperor being dragged across to further barricade the doorway, the sound of the scraping on the door barely noticeable at all. Then there was a tearing sound and a screech of metal warping and twisting, before the roar of Levinus' bolt pistol, then there was a scream. Detached as he was, Ramon neither heard the new intruders, nor did he feel beyond the faint tug at his chest before spiralling into darkness.


Some Time Later, Location Classified
The Terratis Listening Station sat silently and unknown in empty space, not listed on all but the most highly classified maps, and even there it is listed simply as a single symbol. Within the station (which was little more than a large Lander craft attached to a meteor whose path had been altered to fill the needs of its occupants) there was virtually no movement. The single squad of imperial Storm troopers sat at their posts, unmoving and attentive, despite the dull routine. The fact that any approaching ship would be picked up by the scanners long before being close enough to launch an attack was irrelevant, since these men and their masters knew full well that ships weren't the only dangers to this outpost. So they stood and watched. Further into the station, a round room, with 12 pods around the edge, cables snaked from the pods to central computer banks. The pods occupants, hooked up to the life support machines and computers via their pods, lay staring emptily into inner space. Without warning one of the psykers sightless eyes twitched a little, then the readouts on the central banks began to churn out data and the three attendants began to crosscheck information slates. The station commander, a grizzled Colonel stood impassively watching his charges, his expression hardly changing when the bases klaxons began to sound. Outside, a series of slim, jagged shapes shifted into material space and opened fire. The astropath who was receiving the message let out a faint gurgle as blood began to well up from his throat, the closest attendant hurrying to wipe it away. Outside the heavy doors of the inner sanctum lasfire could be heard, as the storm troopers began engaging the hostiles. The astropath coughed blood once more and died, along with one of the other eleven, one of the attendants nodded silently to The Colonel, signalling that the message had arrived, The Colonel looked down at his display and grimaced. There was no way the station was going to survive this attack, but such a fate did not worry him, he knew his duty and would give his life willingly, as would every other man on Terratis. He ordered the ten remaining psykers to begin transmitting, as he readied his laspistol and prepared to sell his life as dearly as possible.
A brief flash of blue light, and suddenly there were 5 warriors standing inside the sanctum, tall and lithe, their armour adorned with spikes and hooks, and trophies of their victims, they raised their rifles, which like them, where long and slender, and began firing into the pods, their occupants screaming as they died to the slivers ripping flesh from bone. The Colonel fired at one before ducking behind his console, and had the satisfaction of seeing one of their warriors fall to the ground gurgling from the throat wound, before his console was peppered with a mass of jagged shards. Another flash of light, and The Colonel found himself staring at another warrior, this one was wearing one of his men's faces over his helmet, the flayed skin still fresh and dripping, in his raised hand was a bulbous pistol like device, which spat dark energy, engulfing him. Fire burned throughout The Colonels nerves, as he began to pass out, unsure if his message had been relayed successfully, but knowing he couldn't allow the stations data to be captured, he tried to reach the self destruct protocols, which had armed as soon as the first alarm rang. But his arms wouldn't move, paralysed by agony, he swore at the leering flesh-clothed tormentor and with his last bit of strength bit off his own tongue and swallowed it. As he choked, unconscious from the pain, the warriors surveyed their spoils, pleased with their prize. But then The Colonel died, and with him, the stations final safety device clicked over, and Terratis detonated.
In a small unmarked sector of empty space, a small meteor blossomed with fire, and began its new journey into the unknown, its occupants, destroyed in the blast, would not be mourned, for they never existed to begin with, and those who would learn of the truth would know their sacrifice was necessary.


A Brief Time Later, Ascillia Prime, Pacificus Sector
The Ork bellowed, straining against its shackles as it tried to lunge at the robed man observing the display impassively. The greenskin's spittle flecked the air and its large jaws snapped open and shut mere inches from the cowled head of Lord Inquisitor Jonas Gabriel. The Inquisitor examined the Ork from under his hood, his gaze as cold and calculated as the glowing red eye, unblinking, in his left socket. To the right of him, a smaller man in grey robes watched the display timidly, carefully avoiding the thrashing prisoner. The Ork, who, despite the shackles and restraints still dominated the room with its sheer size, showed no signs of stopping his bellowing, despite having been captured and held like this for over five hours now. Lord Gabriel turned to address the assistant, who twitched slightly at his name.
“Initiate Caine, please administer the test substance, starting with 20 units, and then adding a further unit every minute, be sure to note when this brute stops its incessant howling, and when it succumbs, calculate how large a dose it had tolerated.” Gabriel motioned to the vials of bluish liquid on the table. “We shall find a use for this pathetic wretch yet.”
With that, the Inquisitor strode from the room, taking one last look at the Ork, captured in the last wave a little under six hours ago. The Ork, belonging to one of the many clans that have proven to be a menace in this sector of space, was one of the few survivors of the ambush. The warboss had died to a sniper round to the head, and while the loss of such a premium specimen was considerable, Lord Gabriel considered it a job well done. The invasion had been stemmed, and the threat to the planet had, for the moment, subsided. As he stepped out of the hab-structure, hastily converted into a laboritorium, and into the bitter ice winds of Ascillia, he showed no sign of the cold.
The glacial fields stained with blood, both human and Orkish, although, the Inquisitor noted with grim satisfaction, a lot more green corpses littered the ice than human. Off towards the left flank there was the sound of battle, as another batch of greenskins threw themselves piecemeal into the guns of the imperial Guard defenders. With the warboss dead, the Orkish hordes had lost whatever little coherency they had once had, soon infighting would erupt, and the survivors would kill each other off. An explosion punctuated the screams of fallen Orks, as one of their crude vehicles stalled and crashed on the ice flow, its occupants burnt alive.
Jonas smiled and watched as a grim looking man with a sheathed power sword approached, carrying a dataslate under one arm. The colonel proffered the encrypted data to him silently, and then waited while Jonas read it. After decrypting it with his signet ring, the Inquisitor examined the report, apparently there was more resistance in the amber sector than predicted, and although it would slow down the reclamation of that block, it would not halt the removal of the green tide from this world.
Whilst reading this report, a hunched figure hurried out of one of the smaller buildings in the encampment, “Lord Gabriel, there is a most urgent matter that you must attend too, its Mother.” The savant babbled, falling over his robes in the deep snow. Mother, was the coded designation for Lord Gabriel's personal astropath, which suggested she had received a private message. Jonas nodded to the Colonel, acknowledging the good work, and hurried off to see what was the matter.

Mother was a young girl, no more than 17, and due to her service of the Inquisitor for around 3 years; she was much wiser than she looked. She sat cross-legged, some sanctified candles burning to purify the air and ward off dangerous spirits while the young girl meditated. Despite being blind and concentrating hard on her ritual, she head Jonas enter and offered him a seat next to her, which he took. Then she relayed the message she had received. After listening to the orders silently, Jonas stood solemnly; he turned to Mother as she awakened from the trance needed to decrypt the messages safely, and began blowing out the candles.
“I'm afraid I have dire news,” Jonas said, “Prepare to leave, I will go gather my men, dust off will be in 2 hours, we have dark matters to attend too” with that he swept out of the room, pausing only to issue a few commands to the waiting savant, who hurried off to start preparing the Lander for the imminent dust off. Lord Gabriel stepped into pace alongside the Colonel, as they walked over towards the main bunker.
“It appears I will not be able to stay and assist you in the final cleanup, more pressing matters have been brought to my attention, though I am confidant you will be able to handle the rest of this operation, and my report will reflect your men's efficiency and resolve. My men and I will be leaving within two hours, and we would appreciate some supplies from the stores.”
The Colonel nodded, and thanked the Inquisitor for his help, before heading into the bunker to finalise the day's reports.

Magos Oedipus heard the Inquisitor approach, his augmented hearing able to pick it out over the humming of the engines.
“Inquisitor, how goes the specimen?” he inquired, his attention never diverting from the small data readouts spooling across the mini dataport inlaid into the engine base, a few brief tweaks, and the engines humming stabilised into a dull roar.
“The Specimen is progressing well as yet, but I'm afraid we must leave now, the research will have to continue in our absence. Please prepare for departure.” Jonas struggled to be heard over the engines, although he needn't have bothered, Oedipus heard everything quite clearly.

As expected, Malius Hellen was found right where the fighting had just been fiercest, despite being stationed to defend a section nearly a mile away. The penitent commissar wiped the flecks of gore off his chainsword on the back of the decapitated Ork, and suppressed a grin.
“Sir, I felt it was my duty to provide moral and physical support to the brave men who were under assault.” He explained.
Jonas new full well that a member of the commissariat is well allowed to use their discretion when it comes to postings in the front line, but he suspected that the young man, not quite a fully fledged commissar, simply wanted to kill more greenskins. Of course, he thought with a smile, that's exactly the dedication he needed, and precisely why he had requested this particular commissar to his retinue.
“Well, please try to pay some attention to your posting next time. But right now I need you to collect the men of the Cadian 7th 7th and the Styxian 3rd 38th, and bring inform them that we will be leaving this campaign to attend other matters in just under 2 hours now.”
The young man looked vaguely dejected at missing out on a chance to purge amber sector, but agreed, and went off to find the 2 squads of stormtroopers, attached as the personal vanguard of Inquisitor Gabriel.

Once safely onboard the orbiting mothership “The Hammer Of Righteousness” the Inquisitor addressed his navigator. Sabin Resic had declined to go to the planets surface, instead preferring the relative peace and quiet of space. Once he finished greeting his lord, he was quickly and concisely given directions to put the ship on a course that would take her out to a safe jump distance and then join the rest of the crew in the briefing room. Stepping silently, out of habit, his footsteps in tune with the ships air purifiers, he set off to do just that, and then, hopefully find out what was so important that an Inquisitor of Lord Gabriel's status would need to be pulled out of an ongoing operation to address.

The holo-display flickered slightly then stabilized, the wire frame representation of the planetary system cast a green glow across the room. The display zoomed in on one of the three planets; two moons orbited the largish planet. Next to the display, Lord Inquisitor Gabriel stood on his podium, surveying his crew sitting around the display port. Two squads of stormtroopers sat at rigid attention, the young commissar took notes on a dataslate. Sabin stood over next to the door, while the Tech Adept sat hunched against the back, his Servo arm making him appear nearly twice the size he really was. Mother sat in on the briefing, even though she could not see the display. She didn't know what was coming, outside of her trance she could not recall the messages, a safety feature the Inquisition insisted upon.
“This is Sidivus Major. Only inhabited planet in the Sidivus System. It was a high yield mining world until around two hundred years ago, when the ore wells dried up. Both moons, however, are high in these same ores and are being mined. The ore in question is highly valuable for the creation of certain components in the subsystem manoeuvring drives on the larger freighter ships. The planet itself is nearly entirely barren rock, the cities are built on high ridges to protect them from the sandstorms.” Jonas paused as the Display focused on the largest of the cities, Sidivus Prime. “We have reason to believe that the planet may have been infiltrated by an insidious Xenos threat. We recently received a message detailing the presence of dangerous mutations, however the message was incomplete and lacked the appropriate authorisation codes of a sanctioned Inquisitorial agent. None the less this is a threat we cannot ignore and as such we must be vigilant. We will be arriving under the guise of an Imperial Guard General and his staff, until I need reveal myself you will know me as General Ostalan. We will arrive at the system in two days warpwise, so use that time to train, rest and be ready. This is your enemy.”
With that Lord Gabriel strode out of the room, but not before he set the display to show a vicious figure, hunched over and malicious, its four arms poised to attack. A Genestealer.

SW Freak
10-11-2004, 03:53 PM
Abraham stared impassivly at the holo gram for a moment before leading his squad away. They marched smartly through the hallways until they reached the armoury and adjacent training hall.
"Check 'em, clean 'em and stock 'em. Be assembled in the hall by the time I finished taking off my armour."
The squad members saluted and then turned and began to follow out their captain's orders. As they began to test fire their weapons in the mini range in the armoury, O'Shea strode into the training hall. Working quickly, he stripped off his armour, leaning each piece against the wall. Finally the helmet came off, and Abraham glared around at the other soldiers in the hall with his one good eye. Then the helmet went to the ground and O'Shea straightened up, brushing imaginary flecks of dirt off of his plain white shirt and khaki trousers.

His mech arm groaned slightly as he moved it. A couple of close hits had notched the metal and the gaping hole a knife had made still glared at him accusingly. He placed a hand on his shoulder and began to rotate it around in a circle. Then he straightened it out and flexed it. He wiggled his fingers just to make sure and shook his arm swiftly. The foot long combat knife hidden within slid out one a well oiled machine. He shook his hand again and it began to slid down his forearm, spinning until he could grab the hilt in his hand. He swung it back along the connecting hinge on the base of the hilt until the stud in the center of the hand guard clicked into place and it spun back until it was hidden again. O'Shea nodded and then looked up as his men trooped into the room, weapons slung across backs or resting in holsters.

"Well, well...how nice of you all to join me," he said sarcasticly, a mischievious glint in his eyes. "Oh, I know! Line up, ladies! Spot check."
The troops supressed groans and lined up with the ease of practice, each one removing his helmet and holding it under his arm. The captain strode along their lenght, expecting each inch of their armour minutly. He was slightly impressed, but he'd never show it. Despite the fact that each and everyone of his soldiers had formerly been speckled, and in one case covered, in blood (All someone else's), they were spotless now.
"Congratulations. You've done well. Now, how about we focus on close combat? I noticed you were all a little slack when it came to crushing greenskin's heads with your bare hand. Who wants to spar?"
The troops looked at one another, as frightened as it was possible for them to be. They had fought practically every enemy of humanity, and knew what kind of deaths could be impossed upon them. But who knew what "Ace" O'Shea was capable of? Sometimes it seemed he could break bones through sheer will power.

Finally, one of them was nominated by unspoken agreement. He stripped off his armour as O'Shea began to tap his foot.
"Come on, come on. What's wrong, Troyton? Afraid?"
Troyton, veteran of almost as many battles as O'Shea, bridled at the accusation and stepped forward, ready to fight. The two men squared off and circled each other for a moment. Then they both moved forward. Troyton threw a punch aimed at O'Shea's jaw, but the captain dodged back with surprising speed. His hand shot out to catch Troyton's wrist as he threw a second punch. A worried look passed across the trooper's face as Abraham slid his leg around him and kicked his feet out from under him. Troyton hit the ground with a thud, struggled to get up and was slammed down again when O'Shea placed a foot on his ribs.

"Too bad, Troyton. Looks like you just weren't lucky today. Okay, my lambs! Pair off. Let's see how well you can handle yourselves," shouted Abraham, helping Troyton up.

Abraham then leaned against the wall as his soldiers sparred. It was, he thought later, like watching two birds peck at each other. He'd have to teach them a thing or two about hand to hand fighting at some point..."

Master Chris
10-11-2004, 07:11 PM
Malius had listened intently to Lord Inquisitor Gabriel's briefing and, his young face remaining impassive, had stared into the jaws of the Genestealer the Inquisitor had left on the display as he had left the room.

Malius usually yearned for battle, he had found he possesed an aptitude for the craft of war. Yet, this was one foe he had never encountered before.

He had heard tales about the Genestealer menace, monstrocities of inhuman strength, agility and tenacity.

The young Commissar did not quake in fear, nor did he hunger for the impending conflict. Presented with one of the many greys in a universe of black and white, Maluis Hellen dismissed his confusion and strode to his quarters, where a tome, "Codex Commisserat", waited for him. The wise words of the Imperial religion would soothe his anxiety.

SW Freak
10-14-2004, 01:02 PM
"So...what do you know about these bugs we're going up against, sarge?" asked Troyton innocently as he picked himself up off the floor once more.
Though there was no change in their movements, the sparring soldiers of the Lucky Number Sevens all listened surreptitiously to the conversation.
"Never you mind, Troyton. Keep your mind on not getting decked again."
"Oh. I see. Nothing then."
O'Shea bristled at the comment. He was a proud man at times and preferred to think of himself as all knowing.
"Hey! I never said that. I know for a fact that the freaky bastards are like a disease."

The rest of the troops had given up every single visage of fighting and were listening intently to O'Shea. Both pleased by and disapproving of his audience, O'Shea carried on.
"I never fought them, but the captain of one of my former squads did. Gave us all the info in mouth watering detail while we were hold up in a trench dodging greenskin shells." Abraham's eyes misted over slightly as he recalled the captain's words. "They were ruthless, and almost too fast to believe. Every time you took one down, and that wasn't easy, another two would take its place. Eventually they had to just blow the infected city to hell, scrapping any chance of finding survivors. Even then the biggest of the bugs didn't die. They had to enter a tunnel system beneath the wreckage and flush it out."
Several of the shocktroopers shivered with anticipation. It sounded like this was going to be a mission worthy of their gunfire.
"So, do you figure there are any survivors at the LZ anymore?" piped up one of the younger troops.
"Which would you prefer to hear, Shanis? That there are and we get to be heroes or that there aren't and we get to blow **** up?"
"Either suits me, sarge."
"Good. Now get that armour back on. We're going to be running some target practice. Your aim on the field back there was terrible. Now move it! Double time!"

Sabin
10-18-2004, 05:48 AM
Sabin cocked his head and gave the Genstealer picture a studied look.

You’d think he could have acknowledged it was me that gave him that bloody picture.

Resic silently removed himself from the briefing room and started his pre-jump checklist. Sabin studied the critical parts of the ship for any sign of instability or sabotage. Ever watchful, he knew first hand that enemy agents could be anywhere.

Insidious Xenos threat eh? Is there any other kind you pompous clown?

Satisfied with the ship’s status, Sabin visited the head then went by the mess to pick up a little sustenance for the trip. The detour brought him by the Stormtroopers’ firing range so he stopped to look in on their work.

Apes and thugs all of them. No finesse, but brutally efficient in their own way and hopefully better than the meat shields I’ve had to rely upon in the past.

Sabin moved on to the bridge and prepared himself for the voyage. When everything was ready he folded himself into the navigation capsule, sealed the hatch and secured his harness.

“The Hammer of Righteousness”! What a pretentious name for a ship.

Resic removed his helmet and his three eyes blinked a couple of times as they became accustomed to the unfiltered light. The eye in the middle of his forehead stared beyond the confines of the capsule into another place. When all was ready he punched in the launch codes. Ready for the Inquisitor’s command.

The presence of dangerous mutations. That’s discrimination that is. I’ll show him a friggin’ dangerous mutation. Now, where did I leave those Imperial Guard codes?

Jagged Tooth Grin
10-21-2004, 08:42 PM
Mother sat still, unable to see the holodisplay, she still didn’t know what exactly they faced, but from the way he had spoken, she had a good guess. None the less, it would be foolish to rush off without knowing what the enemy was, so she waited, listening to the crews talking amongst themselves as they left, then she caught the word she had been expecting with growing dread. “Genestealer.”
Lord Gabriel often did this kind of thing to her, showing things rather than saying them. At first she thought he simply forgot that she was blind, an easy thing to do given her prescience allowed her a degree of mobility and perceptiveness quite unlike a normal blind person, and, if she concentrated she could see the psychic energies of things, like residual heat. But then she decided it was his way of training her, teaching her to be even more introspective, and for that she was grateful. She knew some Astropaths grew despondent and weak, crippled by the loss of their eyes, but not her, her will was too strong, and besides, as Lord Gabriel had taught her, there are more things to see with than just eyes.
She hurried back to her quarters, knowing she would need to complete the ritual before they entered the warp. Not that psychic powers wouldn’t work in the warp, quite the opposite in fact, they tended to be amplified quite significantly, but they also attracted a lot of attention, and that was something to be avoided at all costs. Sitting in her small room she opened her mind to the psychic energies around her. In the centre of her room an eclectic selection of candles burnt, the faint smoke being sucked away into the purifiers. While not quite a substitute for the great bonfires she had trained with as a child, the flames would do. Taking her bone charms in one hand she removed her clothes, performing the ritual as she had been taught on her homeworld, spiralling tattoos covering the bare flesh as she closed her eyes and began to chant, singing praise to the great god on his throne of power, and imploring him to lend his sight to her task. Once the chant was complete she reached into a pouch by her feet, withdrawing a series of rune stones she cast them onto the ground by the fire, and began to examine them. To a normal human, they would seem like flat smooth stones, but to her she could see the faint aura of power around them, and in the centre with blazing intensity she could read the rune etched into them, burning bright in her minds eye. She studied the runes intensively for several minutes before making a reading. The runes spelt danger, as they almost always did, and they spoke of a powerful threat hidden away under the earth. Fairly typical of a Genestealer Cult, she thought to herself. Nothing terribly unusual there I guess. She knelt over and blew out the candles, cutting the link to the stones, and hurried to get clothed again.

Phalon
10-25-2004, 02:22 AM
Magos Oedipus felt the stirrings of excitement. Tyranid strains! The genestealers were always a pleasure to examine. Due to the rapid evolutionary nature of tyranid bio-organisms there was always more to study in each specimen. Especially if they came from distinctly different Hive Fleets. And Genestealer scout broods were thre most entertaining of all. The way they subverted human DNA through generations with a single purestrain specimen was fascinating. He would love to get his hands on a few of the hybrids that would inevitably be available on thre planet. A live purestrain was probably too much to hope for. He wished that the Magos psyker strain hadn't been deemed to dangerous for live capture. Such specimens were unique to each infestation, and he had simply loved the opportunity to examine the corpse of one fifty years ago. He hoped they could get their hands on the corpse of the Patriarch this time. Unfortunately, the last one had been destroyed when the Deathwatch Marines were forced to overload the local powerplant rather than let it escape.

But better it be destroyed than risk it further contaminating the subjects of the Machine God. A thought occured to the Magos and he moved off to look for the Inquisitor as he heard the ship powering up for warp travel. As he passed the barracks he saw the Storm Troopers practicing combat manoevers, and an idea crossed his mind. He turned and spoke into the room.

+++CAPTAIN, IF YOU OR ANY OF YOUR MEN BRING DOWN A PURESTRAIN SAMPLE AT ANY TIME, BE SURE TO BRING ME AT LEAST A LIMB WON'T YOU?+++

And with that he moved on. He caught up to the Inquisitor as he entered the grav lift to the bridge, and joined him there.

+++GENERAL OSTALAN, I WOULD LIKE TO REQUEST THAT WE TRY AND CAPTURE THE CORPSE OF THE PATRIARCH OF THIS INFESTATION. AISDE FROM THE PERSONAL KNOWLEDGE IT WILL GRANT ME THAT WILL HELP YOU IN YOUR DUTIES, THE BIO-WEAPONS DIVISION IS ANXIOUS FOR ANY SUCH, AH, 'ELDER' SPECIMENS OF THE PURESTRAIN GENESTEALER GENUS AS THEY CAN GET THEIR HANDS ON. IF WE CAN RECOVER THE BODY OF THE PATRIARCH AT THE CONCLUSION OF OUR MISSION, I'M SURE THE ADEPTUS MECHANICUS WILL THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE. THIS IS OF COURSE ONLY A REQUEST, AND THE SAFETY OF THE EMPEROR'S SUBJECTS COMES FIRST. BUT I REQUEST YOU CONSIDER IT IN YOUR MISSION PLAN+++

And with that, the Magos sat back and waited for the Inquisitors reply to his humble request.

Jagged Tooth Grin
11-05-2004, 08:32 PM
"Certainly I will request that the men try to recover the remains of any creatures we encounter, any chance to further our understanding of the enemy should be engaged with vigour." Stated Gabriel, clearly pleased with the Magos's enthusiasm.
"Unfortunately I am fairly confidant that as hardy a beast as a Patriarch is, anything we get will prove fairly mutilated. None the less, I shall try to get you your samples."
Gabriel nodded to the Magos, their bionic eyes locking onto each other for a second, before he turned away to survey the tactical readouts. all weaponry was in working order, and after its recent repairs, the armoured panels were in excellent condition. As he observed the data silently, he felt the gentle tug in his gut that meant the ship had entered warpspace. They were well and truly on their way now. It would not be long before they reached Sidivus, he prayed to the Emperor that when they got there it would be a false alarm, despite feeling certain somehow it would not be. There are always more Xenos scum looking to cripple humanity, the war was never going to be over until they were all destroyed.

Jagged Tooth Grin
11-13-2004, 05:53 PM
Lysander Caine was jolted awake, partly by the movement of the ship and partly by the storm that always engulfed his sleeping mind.  His small cell was littered with texts on gene stealers - and several hand drawn pictures of them.  He had spent the previous hours researching the tyranid race in general and the gene stealers in particular - what he had learned about the new foe did not allow him to sleep peacefully.

  Words and phrases from the xenobiological texts and from various holy writings danced through his mind.

  Infestation can be initiated by a single gene-stealer.  Human hosts.  Rapid evolutions.  Undetectable. LET VIGILANCE BE THY SHIELD. At peak efficiency a gene-stealer infestation can spread across an entire planet in a matter of weeks.  Early elimination of the infestation is considered vital.  BLESSED EMPEROR FORSAKE NOT THY CHILDREN. Children as young as 3 have been infested, according to a study by Mlores... Gene stealer cults.  Human cultists.  BLESSED EMPEROR LET ME PROTECT THY CHILDREN..  Attracts the main Tyranid swarm... Considered to be one of the most insidious threats facing humanity.  THOU ART THE SWORDS AND TOOLS OF THE EMPEROR - DOES THE SWORD QUESTION IT'S MASTER OR FEAR HIS ENEMIES?  NO, AND NOR SHOULD THOU... Described by the poet as 'demons in human form."

    "Demons in human form".  Caine's mind dredged up a long lost image of Inquisitor Nero - standing over a troubled young boy placed in his care.  "The darkness inside you compels my misdeeds as does that of thy brethren."  Nero drew the infernal circle on the slate floor of the chapel.   As rest of the order piously traveled to Terra to sing their own praises, Nero and his depraved brethren would gather the children and force them to complete the dark rituals.

  Nero knew Caine was psychic.  The Inquisitor always let his thoughts flow to the boy - let him know exactly how he would cause him pain and delight in his suffering.   

 Then he drew his necromantic implements and to these powerless children the demon revealed its true form.

 

     Caine returned to the business at hand.  The threatened planet hosted Millions of inhabitants. Many of them children.  Caine closed his books and picked up his gun. 

      "Blessed Emperor, let me protect thy children..." 

SW Freak
11-14-2004, 07:10 AM
As the ship jolted in motion, O'Shea dismissed his men. They trooped out, laughing an joking with each other. Abraham himself slid down to a sitting position against the wall. He always had misgivings before a battle, and his instincts were screaming that this would be a big fight. He found that he always got all the anxiety over with before the fighting and was able to simply do his job when the time came.

But this time something was wrong. He didn't know what. All he was aware of was a wailing discord in the mission. He couldn't bring it to the inquisitor; he'd be dismissed for having nothing more substansial than a feeling. With a sigh, he stored his weapons and armour in the armoury before wandering around the ship. Well, he thought, whatever's wrong, I'll recognise it when I see it. It'll work out. It always has...

Master Chris
11-14-2004, 04:40 PM
Malius had read all the imperial texts he could stand, it was time to leave the confines of his quarters and do something constructive.

Perhaps the resident Storm troopers could do with an inspection? Instill some morale, reinforce discipline, it would help the soldiers and, no doubt, calm his own nerves.

With as much precision as he could muster, Commissar Hellen marched over to the barracks, and entered without warning. Much to his surpise, as well as pleasure, the immediate response to his entrance was:

"Ten-hut! Officer on deck!"

Jagged Tooth Grin
11-16-2004, 10:21 PM
The stormtroopers stood to rigid attention, their armour, in contrast to the Cadian 7th 7th, was nearly entirely black, their right shoulder pad was split with a red stripe, inside the stripe, the numbers 3rd 38th were stencilled in white. Malius stepped down the line of troops, their weapons held tightly across the shoulders. All the soldiers wore their battle helmets; the red autosensors glowing faintly, the sergeant was the exception to this. He wore no helmet, and his rebreather hung by his neck, clearly showing his ebony skin, and the 3 ceremonial dreadlocks, each signifying a full campaign within the Imperial Guard. The sergeant smiled at the Commissar, his white teeth gleaming.
“Good Evening Sir, would you care to join us? I was just about to order 5 hours of close combat drills.” With that, the rest of the squad let out a groan.
“Stow that lip Soldier.” Sergeant Beakman snarled playfully “If you wanted an easy life you should have joined the Navy!”
“Oo-Rah”
Malius thought carefully, as a commissar he would often be required to win the respect of his troops, usually by besting their leader in combat, with that in mind he issued a challenge to Beakman, which the black man gleefully accepted. Squaring off the two combatants circled each other; Beakman unclasped his armoured chestpeice and threw it to the side, where the rest of the soldiers were forming a ring around the two men. Malius was surprised how large the sergeant looked, he seemed almost feral, surrounded by chanting warrior, his thick dreadlocks swinging down his back. This was, of course, not terribly surprising, life on Styx was rife with crime; the arbiters there were some of the toughest in the galaxy. The planet Styx was big black, and violent, and so were the men raised from it.
Beakman circled, content to let his superior size and weight do the work for him, slowly edging towards the smaller man, only to be surprised when the younger warrior lunged straight at him, the fierce swing connecting with the side of his arm, the trainee commissar swinging his elbow towards the larger mans face. Reacting quickly Sergeant Beakman pulled his head backwards and rolled out of the blow, taking a heavy swing at his opponent's head, Malius ducking out of the way before striking back at the Sergeant. For several minutes the two fighters fought, both looking for an opening, Beakman blocking or soaking the damage, Malius dodging the punches before jumping right back into the fight with ferocious attacks that the larger man seemed to simply ignore. Finally Malius spotted an opening and swept his leg around, knocking the Stormtrooper to the ground, as he followed through, the prone soldier swept his hand around with shocking speed, slamming the commissar's head into the training mat. Helping the slightly dazed man up, Beakman smiled.
“Don't take it too hard son, you did a whole lot better than any of these ladies would have.” He then turned to the rest of his squad “Speaking of which, I don't remember giving you guys any shore leave, get back to work!”

Jagged Tooth Grin
11-24-2004, 06:49 AM
Sidivus System, two days later

Grecus City appeared from orbit like a dirty grey smear along the surface of Sidivus Major, in the outer wastes great winds blew dust storms against the protective barriers, the winds battering against the giant plascrete walls as though the planet was trying to rid itself of the black parasitic growth. The city itself was in disarray, above the storms, the Hammer of Righteousness slipped into sight behind one of the orbiting moons. The Hammer swept past the moon and towards the fat tan planet, silent and nearly invisible against the inky sky. Inside the ship, Lord Inquisitor Jonas Gabriel sat watching the bank of monitors, and listened intently to the vox chatter from the planet below. Slowly a pattern emerged from the hectic reports from the surface. Frowning to himself, Jonas stood and walked to his quarters.


Warning klaxons wailed as the crew scurried about preparing the Lander for the final decent. Sergeant O'shea and his men loaded ammo drums into the Landers Autocannons, the Tech Priest Oedipus blessed the navigation computers to ensure a safe journey.
The hanger doorway hissed open and Lord Inquisitor Gabriel strode out. If he had been imposing before, he was awe inspiring now, clad in ornate powered armour, purity seals and Inquisitorial iconography laced his armour, the seal of the inquisition across his breastplate. Trailing behind him hovered the two servo skulls, Aequitas, and Veritas, their sensors glistening as they continually scanned the room.
“There have been complications. Sidivus is in disarray, from what I can gather from the comm chatter, the entire planet is at war. Most of Grecus City is secure, with only the outer segments engaged in fighting, but both the Hephetos and Meniar hives are engaged in heavy fighting. If this is the result of our enemy, we do not know, but either way it is our duty to protect the Imperium, subtlety may not be needed here.” With that, he chambered a round into his boltgun, and pulled the hood of his red fur cloak up over his head.
The men of the Styxian 3rd 38th stood to attention, while Sergeant Beakman paced up and down the line, a fat cigar hanging from his lip. “Right then girlies you heard the man. We are dropping straight down into the fiery depths of hell, where miscreants and lowlives will try to tear us limb from limb. Just like Home. So lets get that gear packed, we drop in one hour, and anyone who isn't ready by then is walking, do I make myself clear?!”
“Sir Yes Sir”


As the Lander plummeted towards the planets surface, there was little time to reflect on the implications of the crisis. Could it be that the reported menace was not only here, but also in sufficient numbers to cause a rebellion already? Perhaps the violence was unrelated, but even if so, any of the foul Xenos brood would surely take advantage of the ensuing chaos and disorder. Most worryingly, have they turned up too late?
The Lander rocked to the side as Sabin swerved to avoid incoming flak, the threatening stream ending as a shell from a Leman Russ Demolisher hit the tower and did what it does best. The tower crumbled to rubble, killing the occupants. Which side controlled what was unclear, but the result was the same. The air now less perilous, the Lander sped down towards its landing zone, on the palace itself.


Two squads of stormtroopers filed out of the Lander's doors, standing along either side of the plush red carpet strip, their weapons at attention. A brief fanfare announced the arrival of General Ostavan and his staff, and the Governor and his court milled about, seemingly oblivious to the sounds of battle in the city below. The only concession to the violence was the larger number of palace guard in the area, their golden helmets and trim standing in stark contrast to the practical and grim uniforms of the Inquisitorial stormtroopers. Jonas Gabriel stepped from the ship, his armour, while obvious, was concealed beneath his cloak and offered no hint as to his true authority.
“What exactly is going on here?!” bellowed the Inquisitor, the congregation cowered slightly. The Governor stepped forwards, and after a brief discussion with his cowled adjutant, he cleared his throat.
“I'm sorry you had to arrive at such a unfortunate time. Rebels have attempted a coup, although I assure you everything is under control and will be resolved soon. You have no reason to fear, General.”
Jonas looked around the room, and smiled.
“Everything is under control is it? There is a war outside that offers a contrary position. One, which I am inclined to take. Everything is far from under control. At least, certainly not your control. Your city is falling, as are the other bastions on this world. And they are falling from corruption and weakness. Weakness that you have done nothing to stop.”
The Governor looked startled at this, his large frame wobbled slightly as one of the small servitors swept the crumbs from his last meal away from his robe.
“You have grown fat and complacent, and your troops have grown lazy while you gorge yourself. This violence is your wake up call, and yet you continue to ignore its danger, sitting here in your throne ignorant to the plight of your planet. And for that, you will be punished.”
“You insolent worm!” yelled the Governor, shaking with rage. “How dare you suggest such a thing! Who are you to judge me?!”
“I,” Jonas snarled, “am the Inquisition, and I speak with Their Authority” with that he raised his Combi-Boltgun from under his cloak, and fired at the Governor's Adjutant. The roar of the weapon startled the gathering, which backed away in fear as the hooded figure jerked twice and collapsed, a piercing scream escaping its lips as it died. Both stormtroopers and Palace guards drew their weapons on the other. Suddenly cowled figured within the court leapt at the soldiers.

SW Freak
11-25-2004, 02:19 PM
"Sevens! Forget the guard! Hit the newcomers!"
O'Shea spun to face the cloaked figures as orders similar to his were being bellowed throughout the chamber. Abraham sighed along the barrel of his hellgun and pulled the trigger, realising a short burst of high powered energy. The attacker who had attracted his fire collapsed with a shriek as O'Shea turned to find a new target. A relativly slow moving projectile, a simple bullet, pinged off the shoulder plate of his armour, causing his arm to involuntarily jerk. Behind his mask, the captain of the Sevens gritted his teeth and took aim again. A second assailant fell to his aim while all around him laser fire streamed through the air and bolters roared like thunder.

Master Chris
11-25-2004, 08:21 PM
Malius had hesitated for a moment when the Inquisitor had killed the adjutant. He had assumed that, for the duration of the mission, the Inquisitor would be working in conjunction with the Governor in eradicating the vile infestation. Not so, it seemed. Here was another example of corruption at the highest levels of authority. When would people learn that servitude in the name of the Emperor was the only path? So be it. Malius heaved an inward sigh as he drew his pistols and began searching for the first target of opportunity.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

A trio of bolt shells perforated their target and subsequently exploded within the heretic's chest, all but ripping the mangled corpse apart.

Another heretic sought their final resting place, lunging towards Malius while gibbering in tongues and snarling like a common beast. Without hesitation, Malius sent him to his judgement and sidestepped the newly dead body as its inertia carried it forwards only to land with a bloody smack upon the plascrete behind Malius.

The Commissar then proceeded to empty the remaining ammunition of his Bolt Pistols into the surging crowd before holstering the pair and drawing his Chainsword. After all, it was the duty of the Commissar to lead by example, without mercy of fear.

Calling out to the Storm Troopers around him, Malius waved his Chainsword in the air and charged into the fray:

"Smite the Heretics in the name of the Emperor!"

Jagged Tooth Grin
11-25-2004, 10:51 PM
As the smoke cleared, near thirty fallen bodies littered the room. The fighting had been brutal and quick. Several members of the palace guard had fallen, their ceremonial armour offering little protection against the violence that had unfolded suddenly. Many members of the Imperial Court lay dead or wounded, caught in the firefight, and when the hooded assailants opened fire without caring who they hit. The surviving palace guard had bunched around the Governor, protecting him. Inquisitor Gabriel stepped over the bloodstained carpet and pulled the hood off the dead Adjutant.
“You have been deceived. The whispers you heed came not from Imperial wisdom, but from the tongues of foul heretics. Behold the true nature of your council!” with that he lifted the corpse, revealing a third claw like arm and heavy brow. Turning to address the palace guard who had their guns drawn warily, Jonas roared.
“Guards of the holy Imperium, your duty here is to me, stand down or I shall kill you where you stand for your sins.”
Suitably respectfully, the guard stood to attention as Jonas strode over to the cowering Governor. “Any last words Heretic?”
“I… I had no idea! I would never accept these deviants knowingly, please believe me!”
“These creatures have killed an Inquisitor, and, knowingly or otherwise you have assisted their treason. Incompetence is no excuse for your failure.” Turning to the few survivors of the Guard and the Imperial Court, he raised his plasma pistol to the head of the simpering ruler
“Those of you with your lives, be thankful and witness the Emperors divine Retribution!”
the blast disintegrated most of the Governors head and shoulders, leaving a burnt smear on the plascrete tiles behind him. The corpse twitched slightly before falling to the ground, a hush descended over the gathering, the only sound the faint ticking as the vented hood of the pistol cooling.
“This world is now under the command of the Inquisition. Sergeant Beakman, take your men and secure the rest of the palace, take any guard you need. The rest of you are with me. We have a war to fight.”

Phalon
11-27-2004, 06:59 PM
Magos Oedipus had heard the fighting from in the ship. This suggested to him that the infestation was further along than had previously been thought. Knowing the stormtroopers outside were trained to deal with this sort of thing, he finished securing the Lander before exiting. Of course by then it was all over, and the courtyard was littered with still smoking corpses. He saw the Inquisitor bend over one in particular.
“You have been deceived. The whispers you heed came not from Imperial wisdom, but from the tongues of foul heretics. Behold the true nature of your council!” he heard the Inquisitor say. Oh dear. If the xenos had already infiltrated this far... He wandered over to the body in question, bending over to examine it as the Governer's head was vaporized behind him. He was a little dissapointed, but not entirely surprised, when it did not turn out to be the Magos. But the body was disturbing nonetheless. This was at least a fourth generation hybrid, and could be anything beyond that. Which suggested the presence of additional purestrains beyond what he had been expecting as well. Most disturbing. He had to tell the Inquisitor. As the Inquisitor marched into the palace, he hurried to his side. Mosdulating his voice so that only the Inquisitor would hear, the human ears' tympanic membrane was fascinating, he spoke.
+++LORD INQUISITOR, THIS INFESTATION IS MUCH MORE ADVANCED THAN EXPECTED. PUTTING ASIDE THE WIDESPREAD REBELLION AND INFILTRATION OF THE UPPER ECHELONS OF THIS PLANETS GOVERNMENT, THE GENERATION OF INFESTATION IS GREATER THAN WE HAD SUSPECTED. THAT ADJUTANT YOU KILLED WAS AT LAST FOURTH GENERATION, AND PROBABLY HIGHER. tHIS SUGGEST TO ME THAT WE ARE LOOKING AT HUNDREDS OF PURESTRAIN SAMPLES, IN ADDITION TO THOUSANDS IF NOT MILLIONS OF BOTH HYBRIDS AND INFECTED CITIZENS. THIS ALSO SUGGEST THE PATRIARCH IS OF ADVANCED YEARS. WHILE THIS ONLY RENEWS MY REQUEST FOR ATTEMPTS TO RETRIEVE THE CORPSE, I WOULD ADVICE CALLING IN REINFORCEMENTS RIGHT AWAY. I WOULD SUGGEST A KILL TEAM TO HUNT FOR THE PATRIARCH, BUT ALSO HIGHLY RECOMMEND SENDING FOR AT LEAST ONE CHAPTER OF THE ADEPTUS ASTARTES, IN ADDITION TO ANY LEGIONS OF IMPERIAL GUARD IN THE AREA YOU CAN REQUISITION. ALSO, WITH YOUR PERMISSION, I WOULD LIKE TO CONTACT MY BRETHEREN ON THE PLANET AND SUGGEST IMMEDIATE EVACUATION OF ALL NON-COMBAT PERSONEL. IF WE ARE NOT ALREADY TOO LATE, THEN WE ARE ONLY JUST IN TIME, LORD INQUISITOR.+++

Jagged Tooth Grin
12-09-2004, 08:04 AM
Jonas nodded and spoke softly, while he could not alter his speech to prevent eavesdropping, he could speak softly enough that no one without the Magos' enhanced hearing could understand what was being said.
“While I agree that reinforcements are essential, especially given the probability that much of the PDF will be under the control of the hated enemy. I fear that evacuating the planet will serve only to spread the cancer further into the Imperium, and unfortunately we lack the resources to accurately judge who is or isn't afflicted. For now at least we must err on the side of caution, you yourself coupled with Lysander should be able to ensure the purity of any medical staff we encounter, they can then take the first steps at arranging an exodus, but until I am sure that no threat or reinfestation exists, no one is to leave. Be warned Brother Magos, even your brethren are not immune to the Genestealers kiss.” Jonas solemnly spoke, more to convince himself that what he had to do was right. No matter what transpired, many citizens of the Imperium of man would die here. But it was a cost that had to be paid, and by the Emperor he would not shy away from it.
“With regards to the reinforcements, I will order any Navy ships in the area to create a blockade, and request any Imperial Guard regiments assist us, if a chapter of the Astartes should be able to respond all the better. As for Tthe Deathwatch, they have already been informed of our mission, and have a Kill Team waiting on our confirmation.”With that Jonas pulled one of the Palace Guards aside.
“Where is the Astropath Suites?”
“Uh.. Up on the fourth level, I'll take you there if you wish.”
“Very well, I will also need a Vox operator so I can contact whoever is left of the military staff.”
“Certainly sir.”

SW Freak
12-09-2004, 12:34 PM
O'Shea shifted uncomfortably, eyes scanning the room.
"Lord Gabriel, how many enemies can we expect? I don't want my men to be unprepared for what may lie ahead?"
His men weren't nervous, nor was he, but he accepted that there was always a risk that one of them would mess up. When they messed up, there was never a second chance.

Jagged Tooth Grin
12-23-2004, 07:31 AM
The Inquisitor looked at his retinue as he prepared to move off to the Astropath Suites, they were right to be concerned, and at this stage, Intel was sketchy at best, but if the insurrection had progressed this far, and the presence of such an advanced hybrid confirmed that, they were in serious trouble.
"At this stage I can't be certain, but a lot. Certainly more than we expected. Send a message to Beckman's Squad, prepare for possible ambushes, but be careful not to attack citizens. Then move out towards the central armoury, we will assemble the troops there once we can contact loyalist forces in the area. From there, we can push out and ensure we have the palace grounds secure. Then our task is to secure the spaceports, to effectively land reinforcements."


A Few Minutes later, Inquisitor Gabriel, flanked by Oedipus and Hellen and being led by the palace guardsman, stepped into the antechamber to the Astropaths Quarters, the Cadian 7th fanned out, guns scanning for intruders. Although as yet none had attacked, the lack of armed presence outside the Quarters was disconcerting.
With precise formation the Cadians swung open the doors and covered each other as they swept into the room, alert for any hostiles. They needn't have bothered. The corpses of the Astropaths lay strewn about, gored and disembowelled. Behind him, Lysander stifled a gasp, nearly overwhelmed by the reverberations of the violence committed here.
"Sir, the bodies are still warm" one of the 7th exclaimed. Guns snapped towards the air ducts and entryways, but no one challenged the group.
'Well, that's just great' mused the Inquisitor to himself 'I just hope Mother can get the word out.'

Master Chris
12-23-2004, 07:06 PM
Malius had felt the urge to retch for some time, he wasn't prepared to face the foes he now hunted. However, there was no time to dwell upon the enormity of the cultist threat, the soldiers were, understandably, shaken by the brutal murder of the astropaths. One soldier voiced what the others were probably thinking:

"Screwed man! We're screwed!"

O'Shea let him have it:

"Stow the belly-aching, you're a Storm Trooper and we aint got time to whine and cry over some spilt milk."

The commissar decided to add his own thoughts to the soldier, it was easier to act tough when there were other people's lives on the line:

"Worry not, brave soldier. The Emperor's divine grace will light the path before us and aid us in our time of need."

A few of the nearby troopers interjected:

"Amen."

That dealt with, Malius Hellen turned to the Inquisitor and asked:

"Lord Inquisitor, shall I have the Vox operator relay your message to Beckmans's squad now?"

Gabriel nodded, so Malius marched over and started transcribing the necessary message to the Vox man...

SW Freak
12-24-2004, 06:46 AM
Abraham sighed and kneeled beside one of the still smoking bodies. Lifeless eyes stared in horror at him. He placed the butt of his gun on the ground and reach out with his free hand to close the astropath's eyes. Then, brushing the blood off his knees, he stood.
"Sir, we should move to the armoury and secure it as quickly as possible. If the enemy gets there first, or have already gone in as I suspect, then we have to find out. We may be able to catch them as they leave the armoury."

O'Shea turned as he heard a sound outside. A quick inspection revealed nothing, however.
"I don't like this, sir," Troyton muttered into the radio.
"Neither do I. Lord Gabriel. I request we move out now."

Phalon
01-25-2005, 03:33 AM
Oedipus strode past the guards towards the bodies of the astropaths, noting as one of them slid the eyes of one closed. It hardly mattered, he thought, they couldn't use those eyes even when alive. Plus, it disturbed the bodies and affected the examintaion. He knelt over one body, examining it carefully. If he was right, these rends and tears in the flesh were consistant with those made by the claws of a purestrain. He loked over at the air ducts, his eyes whirring as he zoomed in to observe the edges of the grills covering them. Definately claw marks. Most troubling. He needed to contact his brethren here and warn them of how advanced the infestation had become. He srode over to the comms panel which was also marked with rends from the claws of the purestrains. He extended an interface panel to the board after making sure he was unobserved, then quickly downloaded a compressed and encrypted message to the outpost of the Machine Cult on the planet. Hopefully this would forewarn them of the inevitable attempt that the cultists would soon make to steal the precious machines of the Omnissiah. Then matters of more immediate security took precedence over other matters, and he strode back to the side of the Inquisitor.
+++MY LORD, THIS WAS THE WORK OF PURESTRAINS.+++ He did not bother to modulate his voice, deciding it prudent to let all nearby aware of his findings. +++IF MY THERMAL SCANNINGS ARE ACCURATE, THESE BODIES ARE DEAD NO MORE THAN FIVE MINUTES. THIS SUGGESTS A 72.3% PROBABLILTY THAT THE PURESTRAINS ARE STILL SOMEWHERE IN THIS BUILDING. IF THEY ARE AWARE OF WHO YOU ARE, WHICH I RATE AT A CHANCE OF 86.7% DUE TO OUR PREVIOUS ENCOUNTER AND THEIR TELEPATHIC ABILITIES, THEY WILL NO DOUBT USE THESE CREATURES IN AN ATTEMPT TO NEUTRALISE YOU BEFORE YOU CAN SERIOUSLY AFFECT THEIR PLANS. I ADVISE WE MOVE WITH EXTREME CAUTION.+++

SW Freak
02-13-2005, 05:11 PM
There was a feral, much drawn out scream in the halls outside. All guns in the room snapped towards the doors.

"Troyton!"

"Sir!"

"Seal the entrance! Sevens, I want a gun on all possible points of entry! Leftovers, eyes to the door!"

"Door secure!"

"Roof vent secure!"

"Window secure!"

There was a tense silence as the Stormtroopers' guns pointed at their designated targets. Then something hit the double doors with a solid thud, knocking the hinges slightly out of their holdings. Troyton stepped back hastily and kneeled, gun leveled at the doors. A second thud knocked lumps off the wall and nearly took the doors down.

"Nobody fire until you get the order. Keep an eye on those vents." O'Shea wasn't shouting now; he didn't have to. The eeire silence meant that his voice could be heard by all.

There was a third and final thump and the doors flew off its hinges, crashing to the ground two foot away from the frame.

"Open fire!"

Lasers hissed through the air, tearing the first beast into the room to shreds. The second one got no furthur before exploding into a mass of blood as it was hit by a burst of bolter shells. O'Shea didn't spare a glance towards Malius, but he acknowledged his fire. Three more fell soon after.

"Reloading!"

Troyton dodged in front of Shanis as the younger man slammed a new clip into his Mk I Hellgun.

"Still lookin' for that mark 2, sir!" shouted Shanis.

"And you won't get it if you keep blabbing!" replied O'Shea, moving forward in a crouching run. He and Troyton had the only Mark 2s in the squad. He would have to remedy that if they made it out alive.

The last of the purestrains leapt through the smoke and blood, flying straight for O'Shea. The captain swung his gun up but was knocked to the ground as the creature barreled into him. Its two right limbs had been blasted off, but that did little to slow it down. It drew back its left claw and then stabbed out with it. Abraham's mechanic arm snapped out and grabbed it. There was a groan from O'Shea's arm as the palm was split open and a crack from the creature's claw as its chitinous armour began to split.

I'm gonna crack first, thought O'Shea as the claw inched closer to his face.

A boltgun roared and the beast's head exploded. It slumped and toppled off the man. O'Shea grabbed its wrist and pulled it out of his palm.

"Thank you, Inquisitor," said O'Shea, retrieving his gun. "That won't be the last of them, I don't think. I reiterate; we should go. Now."