A Device of Infinite Complexity- Mechanicus Deathwatch Cell (IC)

[thebothan]

"Thought for the Day #149568: Truth is subjective, victors write only that which helps themselves. Only he with the strength to reject the insidious corruption of such fact-falsehoods can truly claim to know the truth."

Such is the 2,893rd piece of Mecanobabble that emitted from the servitor seated across from you inside the tiny craft hurtling through the heavy atmosphere. A single person drop-craft, departing from your chapter ship, far far away above the planet of Polimus Scar, your new protectorate for the duration of your stay. This craft had arrived on-board the vessel almost immediately after your ship reached the drop-off point. You had been sent aboard, only to find no living being aboard to brief you. Nothing inside the small, cell sized room except the single servitor, draped with a red robe, its face a mess of wires, lights and pict-capture lenses. It had watched your every move since you entered the craft, and had no answer to your questions save the occasional propaganda line it would spout from the vox synthesizer mounted inside the throat cavity. What you would give for a window, or some object to focus your attention on.. perhaps a clue about your mysterious Deathwatch Vigil, or why the armor you were given is not painted the traditional black, but rather a Deep Brown, the armor is a true mystery to you: it lacks the traditional marks of chapter pride on the right shoulder pad, but instead features a single Cog, crafted in Black with a metallic luster. It also lacked many of the features to which you were accustomed... Why the devotees of the Machine God would ordain to deny their allies the strengths of technology puzzled you, especially to deny it to a space marine.

*ping* Thought for the Day #149569: Blessed are the Emperor's Children, and most blessed are his closest Sons within the Imperial Millitary, for by their tireless service, we may live.

The servitor again interrupted your train of thought. These thoughts were getting closer and closer together. But more importantly, the familiar lurching feeling in your stomach tells you the drop-craft was nearing impact with the ground.

Remain Calm, Adjusting Trajectory.

With a scream of binary the machine jerks off to the left, you remain strapped into your seat. Evasive maneuvers, without the dull sound of incoming fire was not a typical action for travel craft. Either way, you think-as the vessel slams into the ground, this trip can't be over soon enough. The servitor sitting before you has sustained significant damage in the landing, the organic components are almost melting off the frame, a combination from friction buildup and the jarring of impact. The necrotizing tissue begins to fall from it, and you are quick to unstrap yourself and stand before the doorway.

*ping* Arriving at Destination, Parting Thought: Fools rely on luck and circumstance. Heroes create their own.

The door falls open, and you find yourself standing on an orbital landing platform, built in an octagonal pattern radiating from the side of a enormous space vessel, though you are thousands of miles above the planets surface, you can feel the fabled gravity of Polimus Scar dragging you downwards. Two similar craft stand on landing platforms, smoke billowing from the craters left by the smashing impact of your craft while shadowy figures slowly emerge from the doorway. Making slow progress towards your craft from the body of the ship, a procession of red robed hunched figures shuffle onwards.

It will take about two actions for the figures to reach you, feel free to describe yourself and get introductions done.

[cybric]

As the drop craft screams towards its target Brother Warden Andros recites the Catechisms of Hate while running final combat checks on his armor and weapons.

"While vile mutants still draw breath, there can be no peace. While obscene heretics' hearts still beat, there can be no respite. While faithless traitors still live, there can be no forgiveness"

As the craft smashes into the ground and Andros watches the servitors face melt off he steels himself to the task at hand. Andros chaffed at not being able to proudly display the colors of his chapter. By Throne on Terra he was a proud son of Sanguinius, a Blood Warden of the Scarlet Lions, it was not their style to hide who they were from the enemy. His armor usually a deep scarlet lined with vibrant yellow had been replaced by the deep and dirty brown of the mechanicus. While his chapter marks had been removed he still kept his holy wargear as was his right as a Warden and son of the emperor

His holy exsanguinator a tool of his trade for healing and mercy was fixed to his left gauntlet. The light of the systems star glimmering off of the metal of the drill and saw blade. He had used it so often that he often thought of it as a extension of his own body. Even name of a battle brother who had received the emperors piece and paid the chapter its due was etched into the gauntlet and Andros carried the names of ever battle brother he had sent to the emperors side. Afixed to the gauntlet was also a piece of metal taht would look out of place. It is a fractured piece of a red grail held in esteem by the chapter.

Those who would look upon him would notice the color of his armor, and the eltritch runes carved into his armor, but they would also notice the plum of red hair junting from his helm and falling befind his back but most a suredly they would notice the grisly skull helm first. The helm was shaped to resemble a human skull a symbol of humanitys mortality as much as a symbol of his office. Many would call him a chaplain others a apothecary however in the Scarlet Lions Andros was called to be both to his brothers. Many had fought the change in the chapters structure saying that the sanguinary priests and the chaplains should remain separate. However the chapter master Gaius Trilant had seen the wisdom the move. He knew that the war the Lions fought was not simply a war against the enemy. It was a war against themselves. The Rage and the Thirst was consuming the chapter. Either battle brought more brothers to the death company and the tower of the lost. Gaius knew the the war was one of the soul as much as genetics and so the scientist mystics of the Wardens were born.

But in this moment the histories did not matter. In the moment there was only the righteous hate, the pull of the blood and the holy duty to slay in heretic and enemy. With that thought Andros held his winged power sword, Lions Fury, aloft and called to his brothers and allies.


Space Marines, sons of the holy emperor come forth and form up. It is a good day to bring the emperors wraith is it not?! Brother Andros, Blood Warden of the Scarlet Lions calls you to action. Our purpose is clear, our cause just, let nothing cloud your heart, let nothing stand before you. Whilest the enemy draws breath our work goes unfinished. Stand to brothers and be known!

[Yrvin]

Feliks' eyes dart over the marine in the same ochre armour he himself now wears. The sword clutched in his hand bears wings, a shattered chalice adorns his gauntlet and the ancient title is one only a fellow descendant of Sanguinius would use. A comrade to share the burden with or a pair of spying Eyes, lent the Captain? Not that it matters, the Chapter will not find me wanting. The other one lacks any signs of identity as far as Feliks' inquisitive gaze can tell, he too wears the same colours and ensignia as the rest of them. Shrugging of his unease at the mysterious gathering, he steps thoward and hefts his glaive in resposne to the Chaplain.

"Codicer Feliks Sierzant of the Feathered Spears greets you Brother Andros! The blood of our shared father runs strong, and it does not allow a Hussar to refuse his cousins' calls, be they to revel or war."

[Malthan]

This galaxy runs red...

Staring at the robed figures draped in crimson, Marcus kept a stoic and distant look on his face as the two fellow brothers of Sanguinius made their acquaintance. Even for a marine, the warrior that had once belonged to the Iron Hands was without mirth or joy. Duty, hate and steel were his destiny. It was all that he knew.

"Good or bad, every day demands the Emperor's wrath. And I intend to deliver it.

He said, his voice devoid of passion but edged with barely suppressed disdain - directed at himself, at his circumstances and at everyone around him. He expected no companionship or kindness from this galaxy and would do his best to refrain from giving either.

"Marcus Verus. Iron Hands. Designated Assault Specialist."

The grating metal staccato of his voice and his burst fire syntax matched his own efficient movements, as his iron clad helmet turned to scan the two blood brothers.

"Your vital signs are impressive. I expect you to perform admirably. Do not prove me wrong. "

[cybric]

"Is war not revelry enough Brother Felrik? The chorus of cannons, song of the blood pumping in your veins and the symphany of the blade do these not fill your soul with merth and joy same as any bland song? Lift your revelry high to the Emperor friend and let him hear your joy then for it is the joy of battle. For he has given you a gift, the gift of his touch upon your mind and soul. To learn what your brothers cannot know to fight foes that they cannot see that is your burden and that is your joy. Guard yourself from the taint brother and place your faith in the Emperor and he shall protect"

Andros spots the thrid member of their cell and wonders who else could have come. Tactical information streams in his helm however there is no chapter id coming from the new comer same as it was for Felik. Three space marines against whatever was inside Andros wasn't concerned and as the thought entered his mind he offer a prayer of confession the sanguinius for his hubrus. Pride must be guarded against and ever encounter should be treated will care until the last moment when the fury of the angel could be unleashed without reserve.

"The fury of the angel sings in our blood Brother. The enemy will be driven before us and his lamentations will be made into a offering. You sword arm is welcome here and you shall be the conduit for the emperors wrath. We shall all perform more then admireable. We are the emperors children brothers let us go remind these wretches of that fact."

[Yrvin]

"Would it be so that all wars were as entertaining to warant the title of revel! Far too often the enemy simply scater under the fist of the Imperium, fleeing like the scum they are, and what joy can be had in slaughtering the weak and deluded. No, leave them to the guard or navy, and let us serve as we were intended. We are the lance that hungers for the foes heartblood, and will never be content simply wounding him."

Not to mention when the battle brings madness and dishonour Cousin...

Burying the dark thoughts for a time again, Feliks responds to the cliped speech of the Iron Hand.

"The Emperor shall not find me wanting, which I hope will suffice in your eyes too, Brother Verus."

[cybric]

Indeed to battle then. Brother Felik, Brother Marcus, let us attend to our business

[thebothan]

The Mechanicus procession has reached your landing pads, the 13 priests are all dressed in red robes, the front 3 carry banners of antiquity, marked with the gates of Holy Terra, The rusty red sphere of Mars and the Symbolism of the Priesthood of Mars. Once they reach the pad the other tech priests bow deeply, and form a column, through which the final techpriest marches. He reaches directly in front of you and drops to one knee. Greetings, Astartes. The Magos Tertius of this ship, Itrenus Coritn welcomes you to the Service of His most Holy Deathwatch. After a moment of respectful silence, the priest of Mars rises from his knee, then bows deeply I am Cogitor Didorian, regrettably the Magos Tertius was unable to make the trek to see you had landed.. His duties require him to remain aboard the vessel. I will act as your guide to your quarters. Please follow me. The magos turns around with another bow, as you walk with him the tech priests carrying the banners form a group around you. Your procession meanders through the long stretches of docking bays, refueling ships and defensive promontories. As you walk the Cogitor rattles of factoids about the ship ‘345643624MARKII’: A Venerable Excorcist Class Grand Cruiser, one of the largest ships that occupies the Mechanicus conglomerate of ships. It is run by the Mechanicus High Magos, of who Magos Tertius Coritn is a loyal servant. Upon entering the mighty vessel through a bulkhead large enough to carry a squadron of Thunderhawks, you see the hallways before you cleared with but a single word Returning Party, quickly moving darkly clothed humans scamper the hallways to avoid your group. Now, you have been set up in the storage rooms immediately below the officer quarters. The walk lasts almost an hour, the tech-priests begin to slow nearing the destination, a non-descript door labeled S001. The heavy lock on the door has an large hand scanner.. The tech-priest who had been walking with you makes a coughing sound as he clears a piece of irrelevant data from his vox-implant, My lords? If one of you would be so kind as to scan your gauntlet, it will only open for you.. No one else on this ship is cleared to enter.. not even the Inquisitor.

[Malthan]

"Of course, adept."

There was the hint of reverence in Marcus' voice, although his monotonous tone kept such pleasantries hidden beneath the surface. He had watched the tour intently, piously bowing his head as he observed the holy traditions of his chapter. Such responses had seemed almost automatic however, a plain adherence to a metallic past that had prohibited passion and fervour.

"Your security systems are commendable."

He said in approval as he lumbered forwards and placed his gauntlet into the scanner. It was a blank statement, with years of bloody experience behind it. He had always paid attention to the military side of things as a matter of principle, although his technical experience was limited to how best to maintain or molest such defences.

[thebothan]

Placing a gauntlet on the panel, a healthy green glow emits and the door chirps open.

As the door swings inwards, you see a luxurious room, furnished with little in the way of luxuries, but with a wall of display boards, video feeds, four charging stations for armors, plus a great deal of sturdy furniture (6 chairs, Two long tables and 4 long lounging sofas) as well as tapestries, murals and devotional iconography of Mars around the room. On each side of the room are 2 closet sized doors, closed for now.

The techpriests who had followed you step to the side, not looking within the room. The Cogitator bows deeply again. Thank you Lords, with your permission we will let you adjourn to your quarters. I will return shortly with your first assignments.

[Yrvin]

Seemingly ignoring the subservient Tech-priest but still listening intently, Feliks enters the room and places his heavy crate of personal objects on the closest table. He then scans the videofeeds and display boards for information.

[Malthan]

Inspecting the room carefully, Marcus noted the presence of a spare power armour charging station.

He lingered for a while, admiring the machine art and ergonomic efficiency of the room. He then began to pray, chanting soulless verses that betrayed no enthusiasm.

Finally settling down, the warrior entered a restive stance and meditated in a standby state that was practically synonymous with sleep.

[cybric]

Andros glanced over the room. It was effective but like much of the mechanicus is lack any soul or human aspect. The chapter chambers on Baricus the homeworld of the Scarlet Lions were all adored with iconography to the Emperor and Sanguinius. It did the soul good to see such images regularly but here there was only steel and power. Such things were necessary for their mission but left much of the soul lacking. Andros kept these thoughts to himself and instead thanked the Cogitor before moving to secure his section of the room. He had brought meager possessions with him and did not have much that would stand out other than a large drink container. If someone was to take a swig they would taste the metallic flavor of blood.

[thebothan]

With a little exploration, you can explore all four side rooms.. Behind each door is a small room, which contains a small statue of the Emperor, a small cot (clearly not designed for a space marine) and along the back wall sits a large dais, upon which rests a stone throne, imbedded with wires, power jacks and up-link cabling.

After about 15 minutes of silence, there is a knock on the door. The display monitor shows the red robed Cogitator who had walked you through before, he holds in his arms a large bundle of data-slates, scrolls as well as a number of personal cogitators. Beside him hover three servo-skulls also burdened with large tomes, data-slates and a number of bulky scrolls.

[Yrvin]

Feliks observes the Tech-priest through the monitors for some time. No use leting the servants belive that they can dictate the schedule.

Unfastening his helmet he calls out to the other two.

"Our host is back and he has brought papperwork with him."

Without waiting for a response Feliks strides to the door and yanks it open with one hand.

[cybric]

Andros hears the librarian as he takes off his skull helm. The hiss of his armor depresurizing rings for a moment.

oh how my heart leaps for joy at the thought of paperwork. Bards will sing of triumph over the dreaded scourge of data slate number 3327. Andros shouts over his shoulder as he sets his helm down.

knowledge is power though as our brothers in the librarious are fond of saying. Let us see what they have to offer

[thebothan]

The Techpriest reverently bows again at the door being opened. This is your first assignment. With a quick chatter, the servoskulls around him fly into the room and land on the table. He holds out the stack he was carrying out to Feliks You will find all the pertinent information you could possibly need to complete the goal. There is an introductory letter from Magos Coritn on top.. The Magos explains what is expected of you. Whenever you have completed the task simply issue a Grade 3 Security Update from the terminal there... the passcode is TruthnotCreed. With another deep bow the Techpriest turns and leaves you alone again.


On top of the pile of papers, dataslates and cogitators is a large envelope. Inside the envelope sits a large piece of paper, written in a smooth, precise hand is a message from your as of yet unseen leader. It informs you that an Inquisitor on board the 345643624MARKII has informed him recently that the Imperium needs additional soldiers in their battle against the Alien and the Heretic. He finds himself in an awkward position, for he recently observed the beauty and grace with which the forces from Krieg composed themselves.. They in fact out-preformed his Skitarri across the board and have been the subject of much speculation and research. They are currently trying to recreate the unique disposition of the soldiers. However, they lack a pool of candidates on which to recruit. Normally they would simply round up the dead and upload servitor protocols, but given the current need for outstanding performance in order to restore the Mechanicus' place as a military power. To reach this end you have been granted the crew roster, test subject lists, dreg crews and the brig contents, as well as a full roster of field findings about these individuals and the facilities of this vessel. A method of recruitment should be determined and any notes you could give on the topic of recruiting humans would be appreciated.

[cybric]

Hmm seems the Magos' Skitarri forces were recently out performed by a guard regiment from Krieg. He's trying to figure how to recreate their performance in his own troops. We're to devise a method of recruitment that lets the magos best achieve that goal. Hes even been so kind as to give us a roster and readout of canidates.

Andros places the dataslate on the table gently and slides it to the middle of the table with a flik

As if a readout can tell you the metal of a mans heart. Fighters are more than just muscle and sinue. They need to have soul. They need to be tested and forged. What do the two of you think of this?

[Yrvin]

"That recreating the zeal and determination of Kriegers are a fool's errand, especially of you don't have twenty years to do it. I had the questionable pleasure of serving alongside them and they are a singulary dour group. Fanatics all to willing to die, and not at all appreciative of the finer things in Life."

He picks up one of the many scrolls at random and leans back, studying it's content. Nothing more then a list of crewmembers, including age, name, rank, and nine point list of "measured aptitudes".

"But if you must try, select from the best and most determined. Ignore the scum and focus on the crew, if anything they will atleast be used to obeying their betters. If possible use volunteers, otherwise you'll just end up hanging half of them for desertion. Then train them, arm them and feed them. It's hard for men to fight if they are dellerious from hunger, something Guard Commanders rarley seem to grasp."

Feliks moves over to the next scroll; more lists.

"But I would advice against immitating the Deathkorps version of training. Atleast if the Magos don't desire ninety percent casualty rates before deployment."

[Malthan]

Studying the long list of statistics and comparisons, the cyborg found himself questioning his own value as a military consultant. He had of course a long, if chequered past of personal service but his brief stint in a command role had ended poorly.

If they have such precise data on even the guard, then what elaborate records they must keep on each of us.

Scanning and searching for correlations and causations, he cast his mind back to his own experiences with both. Equally relentless in their pursuits, unquestionably loyal and certainly beyond the average in regards to mortal human forces.

Finally speaking after his two comrades had given their piece, he evaluated their responses, recording his voice so that he might send his thoughts to the Inquisitor as well.

“The guard exists but to do and die, brother Feliks. We cannot allow our warriors to err on the side of caution when our enemies are so vast and relentless. Fanaticism is a powerful tool. It allows these Death Korps to match enemies that by the Skitarii’s own logical calculations, should have slain them.”

Turning to face Andros, Marcus continued without pause.

“And while fighters are certainly more than muscle and sinew, it would be remit to place one’s own soul before the Emperor’s or the machine’s. Heretics and sorcerers have the monopoly on the sea of souls, damnable as it is. We should beware of praising ego above ergonomics, lest we ruin the selfless tradition of both the Skitarii and the Korps.”

Finally coming around to his own conclusions, Marcus spoke with engineered fluidity, a monotonous sermon or lecture on the fundamentals of war. Yet his tone was softer than usual, perhaps laced with respect for the Guard whose lives had passed onto the Emperor or more likely a morbid match to his chosen topic.

“Fearless, ferocious and unforgiving. These are all common denominators in the Krieg regiment. They are equally ruthless with both the enemy and themselves. Their nihilistic abandonment of personality marks them out as true servants of the Emperor. Perhaps it is in fact their contrasting faith and apathy that has made them such dangerous opponents. While the Skitarii worship their own cybernetics and material value, the relentless Kriegers worship only the inevitable victory of man. Their uniquely strong willpower is what I believe marks them out as the superior servants of the Imperium.

Even though the Tech-Guard know little of fear, they are perhaps overly interested in self-preservation or at least the preservation of their finely engineered arms and cyborg enhanced bodies. By comparison, the Kriegers have the redundancy and robustness of an effective army, with multiple platoons sporting similar tools to accommodate losses while relying less on certain uniquely enigmatic mechanical warbands that alone have the potential to swing the tides of victory. The loss of a unit to the Skitarii has proven instrumental on at least pages 117, 342 and 480. In comparison, the Kriegers are prepared for such contingencies. In fact they count on it. They are willing to sacrifice bishops to take rooks while the Mechanicus is concerned with salvaging and retaining their extravagant pawns.

The Death Korps have shown a willingness to bombard their own units engaged in unfavourable close combat. Their use of overwhelming and uncompromising explosives, nuclear armaments and heavy munitions is far in excess of the more conservative tendencies of the Mechanicus. They send entire platoons out to die so that a favourable engagement elsewhere may be the spark that ignites into total victory. They abandon their weaker and less equipped squads to serve as distractions, to tarpit the enemy elites so that their own armoured strike force might execute the enemy warlord. They would sooner die to a man than give up a void shield embankment, industrial factory or anti-air battery, knowing that retreating from such objectives could easily cost them the war.

That is what modern war is, brothers. Sacrifice. A man’s life has little value in comparison to the destruction of an enemy’s irreplaceable anti-void batteries, the annihilation of one’s own regiment a worthy trade to purge the single heretic who binds the forces of the warp. These warriors of Krieg follow the proud tradition of your own Primarch and the likes of Ollanius Pius, brave martyrs who would lay down their lives for the emperor, who would wage war no matter the material cost, who know that conservative restraint is punished with not just death but failure.”

Stopping briefly to collect his thoughts, Marcus at least reached the conclusion of his argument.

“If you were to ask my advice, I would recommend the application of this doctrine. Recruitment should be from as wide a range as possible, for although the men and women of this Krieg unit are fine specimens, they were simply the survivors of the brutal training of the past, with dense raw materials entering but only the tempered leaving such a foundry. These currently unfit and despondent individuals of the brig and dreg crews might very well be inspired by my recommended and revised indoctrination techniques while these elites might buckle and fall to their own untested will to survive.

However, the training itself must be harsh and uncompromising. Extended endurance and survival training should be the beginning of such a routine, to prevent unnecessary losses when the more dangerous aspects begin. Preparation is key. Before sending them out into the wild, ensure that the cubs know how to hunt. Aiming, running, lifting and discipline are the foundations of a front line soldier. Have them excel at such things and then test their convictions. And test them without mercy or respite. Drive them to the edge so that their mind’s muscle might be toned or utterly destroyed. For if they should break before the enemy, the spark of heresy or worse cowardice might be founded. Such things cannot and will not be tolerated.

Stimulation chambers, the likes of which my own former chapter deploys to train our initiates are certainly I believe at Mechanicus disposal. Refit them to display the same battles that the Kriegers were engaged in, where the only possible victory is one’s own glorious sacrifice to the cause. Such experiences will also increase aim, reactions and faith. Thus, they will not balk when the time surely comes in their future. Balance this training with physical activities for best results.

That is my recommendation.”

[Yrvin]

"Your tone makes me doubt that I can convince you, but I feel compeled to temper your judgment.

Your evaluation on the Skitarii formations faults are on many points highly insightfull, but I would lay the focus not on the Korp's impresive tenacity and willingness to suffer, but on their greater ability to execute the orders of their leaders. An ability the Skitarii chiefly seem to lack thanks to the low density of men on the battlefield. No matter how well trained and hardy, one Soldier can not do the work of ten, and the cost of raising a Skitarii regiment is far to great to let field commanders keep propper reserves.

I must also criticise the Deathkorps for the same sin. There is little value in forming such a loyal trooper as a Krieger, just for the usual duties of infatry. If not for their need for repentance, the Deathkorps would surely been dissolved long ago.

No, deploy far larger formations of more easily wrought Soldiers, and let the Commanders spend them without worry that they can not be replaced. The greater numbers will allow for reserves and more specialised formations, which gives more options for the comanders and comanders is a place where the Skitarii seem to far outpace the Deathkorps. For where the Coronel relies on experience and tact-maps, a Centurion has access to both does things and much more. The centurion's enhanced mind can make the single indivdual to his own hub of picfeeds, simulations, logs from past battles, coginator aided calculations, logistics information and dynamic objective prioritising.

To follow your analogy; ensure that the player has as many pieces, both pawns and rooks, he needs to overcome his oponent with his own supperior skill. As long as the pieces are trained and equiped enough to fulfill their predetermined role the skilled player will have tools he can trust and control. Any more is a waste of resources better spend on fielding more pieces.

As such only the most specialised units need exstensive training and fortitude. A line company that breaks can always be replaced with formations held in reserve for just that kind of eventuality.
Every part of the force must be trained for competence in their own role, not excellence. Tank hunters should not be expected to fight light infantry, nor the light infatry Armour."

[Malthan]

"You are right. You do not convince me."

Marcus stated, his tone constrained as if he was holding back an insult.

"I do not believe this is merely a matter of numbers. In fact, if perhaps you had studied the material with more diligence and respect, then you might have seen several references to the comparative skill and effectiveness of the Kriegers."

He paused in order to briefly quote the literature, citing how "the beauty and grace" was observed and that the Guardsmen "out-preformed his Skitarri across the board".

"Furthermore, we are tasked with deriving the 'unique disposition of the soldiers' rather than simply telling the Mechanicus to recruit more. Indeed, the material claimed that we are searching for a way to replicate their 'outstanding performance'. Or perhaps you skipped over the part where they stated that otherwise they would simply create additional servitors out of the dead if they just wished to flood the battlefield like the savage orks?"

Marcus breathed deeply, his will drowning out his urge to lose his temper.

"Besides, you contradict yourself. First you claimed that they should ignore the scum and focus only on volunteers. I believe that this would be foolish for the same reason that you then later called for larger deployments. Numbers are important, which is why a large pool of recruits should be brought into the training programme. Some penal units, such as the Last Chancers, have proven to be exceptional assets to the Imperium. Such scum might find inspiration in the holy discipline of the Emperor and if they are lucky, redemption in death. With the used of indoctrination chambers, tests of faith and careful observation, their loyalty might be accurately gauged before deployment. If they should be found wanting at the end of their training, then have them used in live fire exercises by the successful candidates."

The irritation in his voice was palpable as he continued.

"And forging warriors as loyal as the Death Korps is always valuable. If we were in a kinder, simpler war then perhaps your calls for civility and the appreciation of 'the finer things in Life' might be acceptable. We do not live in such times. We do not have such luxuries. We must appreciate the finer things in death. Loyalty to the Emperor is our greatest weapon and its failure our greatest downfall.

Every day is a struggle against the temptations of traitors and heretics. A single coward, a single traitor and an entire operation might be compromised. Both of our legions have suffered due to a single man's monstrosity. Do not forget that the potential for the Great Enemy to twist our trained yet disloyal servants into their own pawns. Mankind once massed a mighty host of knights and bishops and conquered many castles. But a full half of such pieces turned upon their own king. We cannot allow such a tradition to be continued."

His sombre tone was almost accusatory in nature.

"In any case, you exaggerate how costly such training would be. If you are not familiar with the technology, stimulation chambers and virtual vats simulate battlefield scenarios and allow them to experience death without fear of their service to the Emperor ending. It is a remarkable tool, and one that I know the Mechanicus possess. My chapter...my old chapter makes great use of them and their efficiency and loyalty is without question. Compounded with more traditional training and field exercises, as well as the aforementioned tools of indoctrination, and the Mechanicus might hope to replicate their abilities."

Cooling down, he sighed and reaffirmed his position.

"I believe I have used the data to display exactly what unique disposition the Death Korps display and have extrapolated how best to recreate such training in a new generation of Mechanicus soldiers."

[Yrvin]

Feliks smiles, all while contemplating challenging the phillestine to a duel to the death.

"Yes, I must admit your proposed action will indeed grant results similar to those of the Deathkorps. I am just to arogant to not give our new masters advice on the use of such an analogue, which is in most situations inferior to a less indoctrinated and perhaps less loyal formation, due to cost and scarcity of sutiable stock.

As for contradictions, I fail to see one. If one accepts, for the sake of argument, that the fundemental qualities of a regimet lies in organisation and cost efficient training, chosing those who are willing, and thus easily trained, and those who allready live within a regimented structure, and thus used to both obeying and giving orders, becomes cheap and understandable."

[Malthan]

"The contradiction lies in the fact that you call for a larger unit of guardsmen while simultaneously discarding the value of conscription. On the one hand you recommend increased deployments while with the other you would deny the Mechanicus the means to do so.

The Death Korps do not care for such matters as personal choice and free will. Their debt to the Imperium is the same as many of these dregs who have committed sins against the Emperor. Death is motivation enough. With the superior tools at the Mechanicus' disposal, profound indoctrination within a short amount of time will be possible. Using implants, virtual reconfiguration, mass propaganda and other tools that they would use to accelerate the creation of their own Skitarii, many of these scum will prove fit for service. They can and will be broken, as all Kriegers are, upon the bedrock of the Emperor's service. With vat-training and simulation programming I believe they can be reprogrammed to become weapons of righteousness. If they should still prove unworthy, then they may be refitted as servitors.

Given the brutal methods of Krieg training techniques, it is important to have a large number of candidates. There will be casualties along the way, and some of your volunteers will fail. Their convictions will flicker and die or their bodies will cry out in pain and be utterly extinguished. You do not know a man until he is covered in sweat and wracked with pain. Many of these conscripts will surprise you. Their will to survive will reach its apex and their soul will cry out for repentance, for even now it knows that it has not served the Emperor with due conviction. In time, such conscripted men will see the errors of their ways and they will be thankful for their opportunity to seek atonement in death.

And if we deny them this opportunity, if the Mechanicus enlists insufficient raw material, then your fears about the potential soldiers being outnumbered will become a reality. We are not in a position to merely accept volunteers. Eternal war demands a continuous stream of soldiers, from all walks of life.

I must say Brother, it is unusual for a Space Marine to question both the righteousness of conscription and the value of loyalty and discipline. It is unnerving, to be frank. Many astartes initiates are pulled from the barbaric gangs and prisons of hive cities, following in the footsteps of the Emperor's own policies. Would you say that this tradition is wrong? Many are too young - or too foolish- to understand or accept such a responsibility as ours. They can, and are, made to see his holy light. The conversion of such souls is not only possible but absolutely necessary and indeed fundamental to the war effort. Choice and personal freedom have no value in comparison to the necessity of our service. "

[cybric]

Andros held is words as his brothers exchanged barbs and strategums. They talked and talked, it could last days, he had seen arguements over tactical superiority last for centuries between brothers and as a whole the unit and therefore the chapter suffered for it.

You both present fine opinions brothers. I suggest a two prong approach. One we find a short term immediate solutions to raise the effeciency of the Skitarii. This can take many forms but it will most likely have to be found using materials at hand. Two, a long term solution for a sustainable and effective regimental structure. This solution will have more room for us to bring in the more "esoteric' and 'exotic' technologies of the mechanicus.

Personally brothers I have seen what that these forms and papers can tell me but I need to know these Skitarii. I want to see how they fight personally. We should watch them train and how the operate in the real world not just down on paper.

As for whether or not conscription is a valid option brother we must disagree on that point. I'm not familar with how your chapter selects those worthy of joining your chapter but I chose the Lions. I dreamed of fighting amongst the stars and I fought for the chance to walk amoungst them. I have seem aspirants strive to out do each other and I have seem that struggle make them better. We want soldiers not slaves. But I'm not afraid to put your conscription theory to the test.

Let's see what your scum will fight for and what lies in their hearts.

With that Andros makes for the chamber door and inserts his gauntlet into the fixture openning the door.

Either of you care to join me?

Andros signals over a adept that he finds in the halls and says with a growl Which way to the brigs?

[Yrvin]

Feliks throws his head back and gives an joyless laugh.


"A diplomat among us it seem. I will take this chance for a reprive and see the quality of the men with my own eyes. I will just offer the defence of my and my chapters honour now with Words, so it will not need to be regained with the blood of a distant brother."

"I do not dissregard the value or need for conscription, but simple hold that it's expidient to chose among volunteers and the semi-trained first. If there is a lack of able men and women willing to serve, then you can fall back on pressgangs. Practicality, not conviction. Every man must repent, and the one which reaches for it is the man I will save first, not the scum who have already fallen much lower.

As for the casulties during training, a regime as the one you propose would certainly demand far to many lives to be satisified with volunteers, while the regime I propose would make it possible, if not likely.

I say that the time and resources spend on forging a Space Marine is so large and rarely made, that rebuilding a lowlife is not a high aditional cost. The man he was before becomes a vessel for that which is righteous, and his past only shapes his future zeal and excellence. My chapter has always valued élan and so choses the best soon-to-be knights of or homeworld to undergo the transformation. When it is over we might still use and appriciate the skills and traditions of the Hussaria, but our souls are as those of our borthers in all Chapters. I will not question other Chapters choice of initiates for the same reason I would take offence on an insult to my own Chapters traditions and philosphy."

[Malthan]

Rising slowly, Marcus flexed his motors and muscles, releasing his pent-up frustration. He was growing weary of the two Blood Angels, their unknown sleights against his own past leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. For all their talk of chivalry, they could not see that they had slighted his own honour. And so there was an anger in him, an indignity that he could only suppress with cold discipline.

For now, he was unwilling to reveal his own personal past as a slave, a conscript and a sinner. But no matter how hard he tried, dark thoughts permeated at the back of his brain. The reviled whispers that had made him strong, that had made him an outcast, that had made him whole - they lingered in him even as he spoke.

"Very well, if you insist on first hand data then let us see these subjects."

Scum.

"But know this Brothers. This is an unusual assignment. Indeed, this entire arrangement is unusual. Even as we go to observe others, it is likely that we ourselves are under watch."

Lowlife.

"Still, I have confidence that my interpretation of the results is sound. I also do not think it is wise to overlook the potential of a penal legion or any who must be shown the Emperor's light by force. And for the record, the potential losses will be reduced if stimulation chambers are used to supplement more traditional life-risking assessments. In addition, those who fall in my recommended training may still be salvaged as servitors, so the cost of imitating Krieg training routines will be not leave us at a particular disadvantage."

Slave

"Regardless, the will to serve and the will to survive are not so different. Metal has no choice when it is sent into the furnace but it is forged regardless. These villains may not be fit as of yet, but they have not yet truly forsaken redemption."

Not yet...

[thebothan]

The adept prostrates himself and rapidly indicates the journey you should take. It takes you through long winding corridors and expansive halls, dotted with people, who quickly move aside, or stand awestruck at the spectacle of your armor.

Upon reaching the brig, you find a short man decked in a cloak marked in the insignias of an Inquisitor standing in discussion with who you assume to be the on duty guard. They seem be discussing some recent prisoner transaction, where someone was sent from this vessel to the planet. Upon hearing your mighty frames moving down the metal grille, the figure turns around and fixes stern glare on you, made all the more effective by his get-up, deep facial scarring and mechanical eye alongside other augmentations. Greetings... I don't believe we have had the pleasure of making you acquaintances.. Pardon my surprise but it is not very often one sees the angels of death in the halls of a research ship. Kindly explain yourselves..

[Malthan]

"Greetings. I am Marcus Verus of the Death Watch. We are here to inspect the prisoners and to determine whether they are fit to be conscripted into a penal legion."

Marcus paused and seemed to analyse the worth of the human standing before him. Stepping forwards and lowering his voice, the marine spoke softly to the man who appeared to be a prison guard.

"Tell me, what is your assessment of these scum? And what are your thoughts on the use of slave soldiers in these dark and trying times? We have come into something of a...disagreement over the recruitment and training of the Death Korps guard regiments. Speak freely but answer truthfully."

[cybric]

Andros moves to greet the Inquisitor. He had thought it strange that they had not met one yet while they had arrived and it struck Andros as even stranger that he did not seem to know that they were aboard ship. The more and more that Andros sees of this assignment the more and more it strikes him as odd. The mechanicus have no need to consult the Astartes. They have whole divisions dedicated to data analysis and thousands of years of data to draw from. What insight could three individual Space Marines bring. The tactics and strategies of the Scarlet Lions would not be of use here.

While the Scarlet Lions lent there forces across the galaxy against a variety of foes they primarly fought the enigmatic Eldar. Thousands of years hunting the craftworlds and raiding parties of that abominable and capricious race had made the Lions patient hunters. Thier energies best spend holding back untill the best moment to strike when all of their bent up fury and rage could be leverage at a single moment.

Brother Andros Blood Warden and currently seconded to the Deathwatch. We have been received a assignment to be sure. The Magos of this vessel has asked us to help him raise the fighting effeciency of his Skitarii forces. Apparently the Death Korp of Krieg outperformed them at nearly every metric and the Magos does not like to be out done. It is a strange assignment to be sure Inquisitor granted that the mechanicus have provided us with a, exhaustive trove of information regarding both forces. I would assume that the Magos could draw his own conclusions and it is not like the mechanicus to bring outsiders into their internal affairs. It also seems a miss use of Astartes might to use us as a think tank of sorts. Stranger still is the fact that you didn't know that we were here.

This Magos seems a strange sort to be sure. Have you had much experience with him?

[Yrvin]

Feliks remains silent, content with the Wardens introduction and it's implications. Suprise after suprise have been grating on Feliks' nerves. Suspicion and thenfore silence is begining to seem as an approriate atitude in the face of unusual assignments and unknown masters.

[thebothan]

The Inquisitor simply stares at you his bionic eye shifts a few color shades as filters and lenses are applied. How intriguing.. I run the deathwatch on this vessel and I was not informed of any new recruits being shipped in.. We are currently at full functioning capacity.

Upon hearing your assignment he chirps a string of binary at the figure behind him. The man bows, and shuffles away, not responding to your question. This man is not certified to act on such a question Astartes. I do not know the answer to your question, though I am quite familiar with its circumstances but I would assume whatever yields the best result is what the Magos has in mind. Still, I was not made aware things had gotten so dire we were drafting the xenos filth into the corps..

He seems about to say something else when a beleaguered and breathless adept rushes from a side hallways, a stack of papers under his arms. Cogitator Didorian bows deeply to the Inquisitor and you each in turn. His respirator unit wheezing as the effort of movement overcame the strength of his machines Inquisitor Nihilus*pant*, dispatch from Magos Coritn.. Apologies that it didn't reach you sooner *pant* total cogitator failure in department 003. Those responsible for this dispatch unfortunately died in the failure. He passes the papers to the Inquisitor, These marines are Deathwatch candidates *pant* undergoing tech-priest screening on this station because they lack clearance to gain access to the hallowed halls of Mars itself.. Details are in the documents sir.*pant* They are being screened for tactical knowledge through a estimation of the necessary qualities of a guard legion. To fulfill this, we were going to examine the qualities of their enemies. The cogitator began to breathe deeply and the wheezing of his respirator goes away. Please pardon my show of weakness, but I was called away from my charges here, in order to amend this egregious error to your person.

[cybric]

So it was a test. Techmarine screening? Andros didn't mind that he had been considered for another role but it would have been nice to have it said plainly and without needless deceit. That part angered him yet he kept is anger in check. It would not be right for him to be angry with this lowly techpriest, his displeasure he would save for the techpriests masters.

If the creation of a guard regiment is a means of screening us techpriest your masters could have merely sent us the data instead of diverting Astartes efforts to bring us here. We could have written our recommendations and been done with it and still directed our efforts at prosecuting the Emperors wars.

Andros was visually agrivated. He was not here for training to tend to machines. He already tended to the souls and bodys of his brothers. He had been told to keep relations with the mechanicus open however this was another matter all together and would detract from his really mission here.

Well inquisitor it seems there are surprises for all of us today. Our screening was not revealed to us and was presented as a assignment as part of our seconding to the deathwatch. We shall serve however the emperor deems best but having us at a round table debating seems a waste of that which we are.

As Andros finishes he peers behind the inquisitor. I was led to believe this was the brig Inqusitor. Why are there zenos back there? he breathed a snort of disgust from his nose The Zenos is a afront to the genetic perfection of Mankind. Their use in the emperors war could not and cannot be tolerated unless it is to learn better ways to purge them from our galaxy. Is that the purpose of this cell block? Research?

[thebothan]

Cogitator Didorian flinches at your words, but quickly recovers. Yes... among other things, the brig serves as a holding cell for xeno specimens captured by allied forces in the crusades at the edge of this sector.

[Malthan]

"Ours is not to question the methods of the Magos or the Inquisition. Still, I would see that our report and concerns on the nature of the guard, which I previously recorded, be handed to whomever might best benefit from it, though I believe it was Magos Coritn who assigned us this test. Whatever other necessary examinations or assessments should be carried out post-haste, so that our work in this system might begin in earnest."

[cybric]

Agreed, we should move past this assignment as quickly as we can

There appear to be not enough a of conscription population here for out needs. I imagine that the Skitarii will yeild just as much useful information. It seems brothers that we are back to hyphotheticals as we were before

Andros did not like the situation but there was little he could see that he could do.

moving back to the deathwatch chambers Andros puts the question to his brothers.

We have talked about over arcing strategy. We have put forth training chambers and reorganization and several other improvements that can be made however we can not agree on many topics. I ask you then brothers what is the best single improvement that we can make the guard? Is it better rifles, better armor, improved training. What is the one thing that the guard are missing? There must be a singular weakness that we can address

[thebothan]

As you walk the hallways, the cogitator priest follows you, interjecting at some moments, he seems quite relived as you walk away from the Inquisitor. I only seek to help, my lords. Fear not, finding a physical population, the mechanicus is more than capable of creating a population to meet whatever qualities and attributes you deem necessary for successful regiments. As he walks with you he reads over the data-slate We can do this.. It may take some time, but it shall be done. He hands the data-slate to the large figure of Brother Verus, I have forwarded the data onto the figures responsible for drafting... The council appreciates your insights.

Once you reach your room, he once again waits outside while you walk inside. He leaves you with one final thought. It has been determined that you should speak with Magos Coritn in order to clear the air around your arrival here... as well as prepare you for any further interactions with select members of the ships crew. He will visit you within the hour.

[cybric]

Andros listens to the cogitator as he walks along side him Very well cogitator. We'll reconvene and have some recommendations. Although I shall say that we will put no more effort towards this till we meet with the Magos and have this clearly explained to us.

[Malthan]

Waiting patiently, Marcus ignored the others and began to meditate again. He felt weary and uneasy in this new environment, with the mute voices in his head beginning to cloud his judgement. It was important for him to keep a calm and cool head when not in active battle.

[Yrvin]

Feliks ignores the Cogitator and position himself infront the pictscreens. They show roughly the same sort of imformation as before. Hoping to glean some knowledge about the coming and goings around his new quarters he locks his eyes on the videofeeds from the nearby hallways. With practised ease he settles in and obsereves, still like a statue but in some way still semmingly hulking and moments from motion.

[thebothan]

After twelve minutes of silence, the lights and monitors inside the room begin to flicker. The monitors go black, and the lights blink back to their normal. One of the monitors suddenly turns back on, showing a room that though simple and utilitarian, is truly massive and opulent for a Mechanicus chamber. You cannot see who sits on the dais at the back of the room, but in front of it you can see the departing form of the Inquisitor. A crisp audio bit flicks on as well, As I have explained to you Inquisitor, this is all the result of a tragic misunderstanding. I realize you don't believe in such things, and the stress of your position is beyond even my understanding. So please know that I am terribly embarrassed about this whole arrangement. I commend your logic and strength to bring this to me. I will be sure to make a report of such things to the sector lords. Go in the light of the Omnisiah. The inquisitor departs through the door, and as it closes the fourth door in the room opens, and you find yourselves in the prescience of the Magos Teritus of this vessel. He looks to each of you in turn, his mechanical eyes scanning your forms absorbing all the data and knowledge your form presents. My apologies Marines. Your accidental meeting with Inquisitor Nihilus has triggered his own presumption that his recent falling in position has led to the Mechanicus seeking to replace him.. not that such a inquiry wouldn't be partially true. As much as the intrigue it was necessary for precisely this reason. Your respective chapters have a hope of developing a relationship with the Mechanicus, and for this reason you were called in to serve the Mechanicus. In exchange for your service, we have agreed to provide leverage in future tasks. As for you Brother Marcus, your chapter needs no such arrangement, but your tasks here are of a similar caliber. Now, lets get down to the real business at hand. You have already met Cogitator Didorian, consider him a personal assistant in any task you undertake on this vessel. Though your work will not often allow you to remain here. We were not lying when we enlisted you for a vigil. However, you won't find it listed on any paperwork, nor does your service here remove your chapter from the obligations of sending marines to the deathwatch. He pauses and again looks to each of you Nor will you be allowed to tell anyone of your missions or what you see here. Not your chapter master, not the inquisition.. Not even me. You preform tasks that the Mechanicus has deemed a top priority, vital to maintaining the security and safety of this sector. You already have full security clearance, and in the pursuit of your mission you will find no door will be barred to you. However, secrecy must be maintained at all costs, if anyone is aware of your activities and poses a threat to your work. Kill them.

[Malthan]

Marcus bowed his head respectfully, responding with the only word he could possibly say to such a request.

"Understood."

The word came through his helmet's vox grills in a guttural growl, controlled and uncompromising. This was what he had expected. To fight in the name of the Emperor is to kill in the name of the Imperium. He would do what was necessary to ensure the cause of humanity was kept strong, safe and if necessary, secret.

"My only concern Magos Teritus, is who we are to answer to. I presume our missions and assignments will be fed through Cogitator Didorian. Will we be expected to report back to him as well?"

The thought was unsettling for the marine. He'd gained a dim disdain for the Cogitator, bumbling and unimpressive as he seemed. Still, he did his best to hide any emotion from his voice, although he feared that the Magos might hold the analytical tools to discern his increased heartbeat or any other such indicator. It was a challenge to balance his respect for the Mechanicus with his own personal feelings but the battle must always be kept internal.

A slave must not be seen to question his master...

[cybric]

Brother Andros eyes narrow as the vision of the Magos appears. Secrecy, deceit, these were the ways of the enemy not the Astartes. Andros considered what this man had asked of him. For Andros it meant there would be a part of his life secreted away from his Brothers and his chapter. A part of him that would not be reach able by them even in his hour of need. Yet the Magos was right. The Scarlet Lions were dangerously low on technical knowledge. In fact nearly all of their machines were maintained not by Techmarines but by the preisthood of mars.

His chapter needed the benefits that his increased relationship with the Mechanicus would bring them. Not only war materials but more importantly knowledge. Knowledge that they could turn to their advantage in combating the rage and the thirst. He could help his chapter. He could change their fate.

You are correct Magos. The Scarlet Lions do have need of the Mechanicus' support. And we are...appreciative of the opportunity to stand vigil alongside the Mechanicus. As a blood warden though my brothers are my life, my calling, and my pride. I chose many of them as aspirants to follow us to the stars and fight in the Emperors name. I have heard their sins and know their hearts and yet once this is done I will have to conceal a part of myself from them. When they ask me to tell the tale of my vigil at our feasts I will have not but silence for them once I agree to this. Is there no other way

Inhaling Andros lets out a slow breath

what must be must be then

[thebothan]

The Magos turns to the Iron Hand, Your missions and assignments will arrive encoded through the hands of Didorian, but he will have no knowledge of your mission, his programming will cause him to suffer momentary memory loss after he delivers it. You report to me, and you answer to the Omnisiah, and those he chooses to represent him. He then turns to Brother Andros, Wonderful, we are in agreement, your chapter will indeed benefit from such an arrangement.

[Malthan]

"Of course, Magos."

Marcus stared at his two brothers. They might not appreciate the honor of such a vigil. Already Andros had found reason to complain, an issue that would most likely expand in the line of duty. With innocent lives on the line, the two sanguinary brothers would have more to struggle with than their bardic duties. Could they kill for the sake of the clandestine? It was a troubling thought, that there might very well be division even before the squad had been formally deployed planetside.

"When shall we be deployed in earnest? I long to test myself against the enemies of man."

And to test the loyalty of my new comrades...

[thebothan]

The magos calculates for a moment, You shall depart soon enough marine.. Cogitator Didorian will soon arrive with your first mission. In the mean-time, I wish to personally inform you of a crucial factoid. From beneath his red robes, a single manipulator emerges, clutching three icons on a string. These are Cogs of the Dragon, any tech-priest or civilian carrying them is to be considered a top priority for your protection, anything that befalls them in your presence will reflect poorly on your conduct. Take these to use around the ship, so you may be recognized even without your armor as a servant of the Omnisiant... These are not petty trinkets to be taken into battle, they are not authorized to leave the ship.

[cybric]

Understood

What else could Andros say. Marcus seemed eager to join the action which was good it was just as a Assualt Marine should be. The fevor and zeal would be useful when they deployed. There was still much that erked him about this vigil with the Mechanicus. The Lions needed the Mechanicus that was a unavoidable fact and they need more than standard support could provide.

We'll make sure to keep aware of anyone carrying a Cog of the Dragon. We shall not fail in our Vigil, Though this vigil has been shrouded with secrecy and our first encounter with each other has been been mistrusful I believe that we are truely united in our desire to see that enemies of Man brought to heel.

Andros would be relieved to have a mission to focus on

[Yrvin]

"The secrets of the Omnissiah and his servants will remain. Both my and my chapter's honour now demand it, and I will let niether be stained! Give us a foe, and it shall fall."

Secrets and lies, two things that can easily lead a man to damnation... And two things I have had a long time dealing with.

Feliks takes one of the cogs and wieghs it his armoured hand. He tries to shake the grating iritation that uncertainty brings. To many suprises in a day.

"When the Cogitator loses his recollections, does he still have the means to supply us with equipment, information and transport? I would loathe to question the mettle of the Emperors chosen, but even Space Marines need tools to conduct the fight against the foul and unholy."

[thebothan]

The magos lets out a small chuckle, Fear not. The Cogitator will simply have a stock memory inserted, where he files away your mission inside a filing cabinet, no recollection of your existence will exist in his mind. His ability to preform his duties will never be altered.

[Malthan]

Marcus accepted the cog graciously and kept silent. Prioritising the lives of such symbol bearers would be simple, and he needed no further clarification on his duties. He suspected that the Magos would prefer that the marines keep silent anyway, thus requiring as little maintenance as possible.

[thebothan]

The magos simply bows his head, and steps out from the door he entered. As he does so, the main door opens and Cogitator Didorian walks through the doorway, upon entering his bionic eyes flicker into a red hue, he bows respectfully to you as the door closes then begins to speak My lords, up until two weeks ago, Magos Biologicos Furillin had full sanctioning by the Governor Himself to lead a delegate of tech-priests in the depths of the Venomous Growth, tile set 14572, in order to create a new method of plant removal. The eyes of the cogitator project an image of a robed figure, crouched, and looking around in an animalistic fashion. His form is largely mechanical, but a heavy, crude design, each arm and leg ends in a wide variety of tubes, probes and a pair of heavy manipulators. In actuality, his team was documenting and observing the native population. However, recently the Magos has...shall we say.. gone native, or at least more than he already was. Furillin has abandoned his original project, failed to report in, and joined the separatist forces.. He has dug himself into a native tribe and aims to dare the Imperium to come after him. The projected image shifts, now showing a massive expanse of vines, thorns and acid pits, the traditional landscape of the Venomous Growth. Before he has time to inform the Imperium of his defection, you will pacify the natives and his research team. The image zooms in slightly, showing a fortress, covered in vines, and fire slots. Built in the fashion of an Imperial bunker, it seems to be built without much knowledge beyond that gained from seeing an image. You will be dropped in the growth, a ten minute march from the bunker, your primary target is of course Furillin, and any of his staff who crosses your path.. But don't worry about destroying the structure, our behavioral models of savage behavior if a large structure remains the beings will remain within the walls, and it will give us a constant supply of servitors. However, our military strategists have indicated that keeping the structure will have long term military implications for the natives.

[cybric]

Andros watches the Magos as he shuffles around the growths seeking and probing for whatever it is that he is hunting for. Animalistic, savage, it reminded him of his brothers lost to the black rage in a way. No longer wholly human in spirit. As he watched this Magos Furillin more and more but also pitied him. It appeared as though this Magos had chosen this behavior chosen to give up a part of his human nature to these savages. Andros' brothers in the death company had no such choice. Once day the rage took them as it would most likely take him as well. The movements of the Magos were a dark mirror of what Andros himself might become should the rage take him.

Andros considered the structure.

It seems we have a fairly straight forward first mission. Do we have intelligence on the fighting disposition of the natives? I assume the research team would have brought Skitarii troops for protection correct. I seems to me that they and any on the research team that chose to fight us would be the greatest threat unless the natives have some how acquired more advanced weapons.

[Malthan]

"Indeed, well-armed traitors from the Imperium are often the greatest threats. You mentioned that a delegation of tech-priests were sanctioned to leave alongside this Furillin. Any indication of whether they similarly intend to defect? Are there any notable members who might possess these Dragon Cogs or who might otherwise complicate the mission? I presume that unless they are of any value you to your...our... organisation, we are expected to leave no survivors."

Pausing, Marcus considered the possibilities of what would drive this descent. The Cogitator had expressed that the mark had a disposition to the feral but could it be more than that?

"Are there any indications of the taint within these separatists? Traitors and heretics are old bed fellows."

[Yrvin]

To Feliks eyes the crazed magos Furillin looked like a dangerous opponent in his own right. While imposible to tell from the video, the metal limbs could have place for everything between Dreadnought worthy servos or integrated meltas and plasmacutters. His new behavior also spelled problems, as the newly minted heretic was clearly searching his surounding with animalistic vigor.

"Would it be possible to obtain a list of the magos' implants and augmentations, or atleast the abilities they would confeer? The Machine Gods' gifts are powerfull weapons in the right hands, and I have seen even humble enginseers rend men limb from limb and lift tanks. The havoc a Magos' with unkown capabilities could work is immense."

[thebothan]

The cogitator continues to show an image of the fortress, Data on the natives is speculation and propaganda from the local guard regiments... According to the regional primer it says the natives lack an understanding of modern technology, and rely on ambushes and surprise against imperial regiments... They also note that the planets fauna pose a much larger threat. Streams of data roll across the image, then slow as the Magos browses searches the stream for any evidence to answer your queries. There were 5 other members of the Magos' team, no evidence has been amassed to indicate they are present in the structure, they also seem to lack any standing in the Mechanicus beyond recently inducted. Security detail information is also unaccounted for.. They had 2 squads of Guardsmen assigned to them. Part of the local armies, a conglomerate of 14 different local guard detachments. Roster information is not kept up to date.. most of these soldiers appear recently KIA or shipped out for training... 3 Specialists, 2 Sergeants, 2 Ogryn and a Ratling... The other 12 were standard guardsmen. Kits varied between standardized gear to some esoteric stealth gear.. 14 running violations for breaching standard kit maintenance rules. Detail largely runs as a demotion for soldiers. Chaos incursions in the area are not uncommon, though our data is insufficient to make any strong statement about the radicalism of the renegade. As to survivors... The psychological analysis indicates survivors will not be able to spread any coherent stories of your existence. The map of the region is minimized into a smaller box, and a new diagram of the renegade Magos Furillin appears, showing the general layout of his bionics It appears the Magos was something of a tinkerer.. he filed a dozen writs of augmentation, all of which were passed. He ascended to the status of Iorn-Hide, then passed into the Crucible of the Sacred Flame, and seems to have at least five additional modifications made to each of his bionics... more than likely carried out by his own hands. However, this list hasn't been updated since he left the planet, and I can only speculate about his current proximity to the Omnisiah's True Form... However.. The image zooms in suddenly on the Magos' brain, and a few small file packets are extracted and placed in a side view. He was given a Writ of Creation only a few months ago, but it was never confirmed fulfilled and declared nullified.. Exactly what he was building seems to not be mentioned in the documents.

[Malthan]

"Interesting list of adversaries brothers. Primitives, beasts, cyborgs. I hope you are prepared to test your skills against such a menagerie."

Marcus sounded enthusiastic about the prospect. No real malice existed in his tone, although there was a competitive undercurrent. He briefly considered the list of enemies and data, before realising that killing might not be as simple a solution as he had hoped

"What are the chances that we will encounter enemy amour? As a techpriest and a former member of the mechanicus, you would assume that he would possess some vehicles under his command. I am not equipped to fight heavy infantry, let alone transports or tanks."

He said, noticing with some annoyance that he had the most simple equipment out of the three marines.

[thebothan]

The cogitator simply begins to search and further documents appear on the image before you. Magos Furillin did make a request to the Imperium to reinforce his position with a force of Chimeras and a sentinel detachment, since the guard forces have not yet been informed of his betrayal those forces were sent, but they will not arrive for another day. Hopefully there will never learn of the betrayal.

Actually, an Iron hand would be familiar with a writ of creation, its the process by which a member of the Mechanicus applies to be allowed to create an entirely new object, to be manufactured on worlds across the galaxy..

[Malthan]

"We will make sure they do not. When do we deploy?"

Marcus stated with confidence, eternally eager for war.

[thebothan]

You are scheduled to deploy in thirty minutes, the launch ships will meet you where you originally landed. With that, the cogitator turns about and walks out of the room. As he leaves the red light on his head goes away, and he shakes slightly.

[cybric]

Thirty minutes was more than enough time. Armor yourselves brothers let your faith in the Emperor be your shield as you are his sword and this Magos, this traitor, will stand no chance. Attend to your battle rites should you seek a benediction I would be happy to guide you in that rite. Let His vision guide your hand, and let his grace stay it until the proper time for his wraith to be unleashed upon this traitorous scum.

Andros heads over to where he stored his helm and retrieves it. He then begins to the battle rites of the Scarlet Lions. Prayers stream from this lips as he checks is bolt pistol, power sword, armor, and readies his soul to do the Emperors work in battle. He stands with the Emperor thus none can stand against him.

The battle rites of the Lions were designed to prepare the marine for battle. In particular the Lions teach the path of the patient hunter. They have fought the devious Eldar for centuries and that time has made that cautious but not passive. The xenos is a liar, the heretic is a abomination, what else did Andros need to know other then how best to kill them. The battle rites prepare Andros to stay his hand until the perfect moment to strike, to hold in receive all the rage and blood lust that his inheritance from Sanguinius calls for until it can be directed and focus to a diamond point. The gift of the primarch must could be a powerful weapon but it was a twin edged blade that he knew would claim him someday. For the sons of Sanguinius there was either death or the rage fortunately there was honor in both ends while it they served the emperor.



If Marcus does not come over and ask for battle rites from Andros he will most likely come over and offer them again as well as to know how much of the marine is still flesh and bone so that he can better heal him during battle if he needs to.

[Malthan]

"Very well brother. Some preparation is indeed in order."

Marcus said, though he did not truly realized what he had gotten himself into. As with all chapters, religion and benedictions played a role in the Iron Hands chapter, although they were usually more of a discussion of strategy and military advice than an emotive sermon. He sat uncomfortably, listening to the words of Andros with polite silence. It was an unusual experience that he was unaccustomed to, the speeches and poetic phrases confusing his logic servos but still tolerable in their own way, as a symbol of his brothers commitment to the cause.

Indeed, he was more comfortable when the lion asked to examine his mechanics and equipment. With supressed eagerness, he displayed the heavy skeletal limbs which had replaced his good arm and legs. They were robust and cruel looking devices, built for efficiency rather than comfort. Like carrion draped in battle armour, the limbs stood as foreboding testaments of the marine's own unique devotion but to the Omnissiah or the Emperor or one and the same, one could only guess. Showing how one could properly treat or maintain his cyborg aspect, the Iron Hands went into clipped, manual like phrases and the two Blood Angels might have detected an aspect of pride in his ironclad form. In turn, he asked them routine questions on their own equipment and training.

While Andros went over his form, Marcus felt it suitable to input of his own.

"With all this talk of the guard, we have by comparison neglected to discuss our own structure. As I stated earlier, I have specialized in the use of chain and blade although my skills with a bolter are far from neglected. As I see it, you both carry effective melee weapons as well. Therefore, it makes sense that as a unit we should be aggressive and confident in our skill to carry out our duty in close quarters combat. However there is another issue at hand."

He paused and ran a few simulations through his head on how best to phrase what he was to say next.

"I have found, in my experience as a warrior, that in the grind of battle, especially in hand to hand, morale and quick decision making are of key importance. Not only for courage but for efficacy of movement. Therefore, I believe we should nominate one of our number as leader, if not a formal position then a colloquial one. A representative to help provide unity. Of course, we must all obey the Mechanicus as a priority, but in conflict, tactical decisions can often take priority above spiritual and ethical concerns. Therefore I would suggest one with experience leading and making tactical decisions be selected as leader. From what I have observed, this would be Andros."

He turned to look at the champion. Cold metallic slits stared through the man as if continuing to assess him even now.

"I recommend this purely for pragmatic reasons. Make no mistake, if you were to order an illogical command or betray the Mechanicus, I would not hesitate to disobey. But if we are to serve at our best, a field sergeant would be preferable. If you believe otherwise, speak you piece."

[Yrvin]

Feliks remains mostly silent trough the Chaplains benedictions and the equipment round up. The thight deployment orders does not inspire him with confidence, but he chooses not to voice his wories to his more enthuastic brothers.

Preperation is everything. It's a shame that we have not had more time for it.

The arming rituals conclude quickly, designed as they are for efficiency. Holding his glavie in one hand and his pistol in the other Feliks feels strangly naked. The time is too short to don the customary lining and wings, but he swallows the disquiet he feels about having to march to battle without his chapter's heraldry proudly displayed.

"I concur in your assessment brother Marcus. The members of the Librarium has many duties, but leading our Brothers on the field are rarley one, and so I will gladly acquiesce to the good Chaplain's command in matters of tactics and speed. However, just as you hold your reservations, I must insist that the both of you heed my council if we are confronted by the forces or servants of the warp. Unlike many of my fellow Librarians my powers can do very little to shield you directly from the horrors of the Immaterium, which only leaves my knowledge and foresight."

[thebothan]

And with the exchange of a few tactical notes, the great Angels of Death, the God-Soldiers of the God-Emperor, turned and left their command room, shutting the door behind them. As they did so, much anticipated security readouts appear on a data-screen. With a grin, the hooded figure used an augmented hand to confirm the message, then input credentials. A grainy security photo of the hulking armor suits appeared before them. And most importantly, a name. A brief grin could barely be made out under the hood, finally, answers to solve this winding puzzle. Turning to face the other figures in the room, the hooded one spoke, their words instantly law of the highest priority.Pilot, download everything you can find on Magos Pollis Franks.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your armored boots make an impressive sound as you walk again down the landing deck, the thick atmosphere of Polimus Scar whipping around you. The craft you originally took from your respective chapter vessels are gone, taken below decks by teams of servitors. Instead, resting precariously at the end of the walkway sits a solitary drop pod. It looks ancient, riddled with battle damage, and rusted and corroded paint giving no indication of whose it once was. The interior is overgrown with moss and thorny plants which wind themselves around the mechanisms, and cover even the seats.

There are 4 seats, for the sake of convenience consider them to face the four cardinal directions (so if you face N you will sit in the S seat, and to face E you sit W). Please tell me which seat you choose to occupy. It will somewhat matter as this craft falls to the planet.. There may be some mechanical failure.

[thebothan]

The familiar roar of the drop-pod quiets your nerves as it drops from low orbit. The seats are comfortable, and the webbing of the harness absorbs most of the shocks and bumps as the craft hammers through the thick atmosphere. The small percent it fails to account for is easily absorbed by your armor. After only ten seconds your craft reaches optimal velocity, then three seconds later, the crafts engines kick in, then a microsecond later, it hammers into the vines of the Venomous Growth of Polimus Scar.The craft warps and bends as it continues to hammer down through the canopy. Finally, the craft rests heavily on the ground. three doors fall open, revealing a hellish landscape of green vines, red and yellow thorns and a lazily drifting haze of spores and miasma in the air. The North facing door remains closed, the severe warping of the craft causing it to fail full extension. With a few sputters, the engines use the last of the fuel in the craft and the running lights turn off, a few shatter from gas expansion. Without the power cores humming sound, the Growth enters into a calm serenity, punctuated only with the occasional call of a hidden jungle creature.

[Malthan]

Bursting from his seat like a caged animal clad in ceramite, Marcus immediately dragged out his bolter from it's mag-locked sheath. Staring down the sights he surveyed the forest with a camera's blank suspicion. His experience with such a wild and natural environment was limited to hellish conflicts and simulated scenarios using data taken from Catachan logs.

These and the briefing had done little to give him a favourable view of such a landscape and so through impressive gunmetal slits his visor took in the data and audio-receptors listened for the presence of whatever creatures were calling in the distance.

[roll0] vs 46 Perception, Awareness +0

"Brother Feliks, Andros - status report. I am ready to move."

He issued the statements into the vox with terse eagerness. There was much to do and they would all need to be ready and committed to face whatever perils this planet had in store for them.

[cybric]

The pod crashed into the jungle with a bone jarring slam. Lesser men would have been crushed by the extreme forces working through the drop pod but this was a Astartes operation there was nothing ordinary about what they did. As the pod door burst open and Andros restraints broke away from him he drew his weapons with practiced precision. He brings his bolt pistol level with the jungle and holds his power sword which crackled with energy and fury in a striking pose. The clearing protocols not even needing to be spoken as they were a matter of course. Marcus was already out and scanning the area. He was swift and quick to action. Good traits for a assault marine but it made him rash too it seemed. Andros stores Marcus' actions and traits away along with appropriate sermons on the Emperors patience for later review.

Andros, strike ready. Felik status? The crash should not have been a problem for the marine however Andros did notice that one of the pod doors had failed to deploy properly. Once we're green we'll move forward to the fortress. Take note of what you see and hear on the way brothers. As Marcus noted we're not geared if we encounter armor. We should scout the situation as quickly as possible. Once we've confirmed the Magos' location we'll shatter their defenses and deliver the Emperors justice to this traitor. Kill the Heretic, Purge the Unclean.

[thebothan]

Marcus: As your eyes scan the terrain in front of you, the sensors in your helmet filters out targets with its usual enthusiasm, filling your vision with green outlined lifeforms, and lighter green trajectory patters, anticipating the glorious moments of combat. The overgrown region before you holds plenty of danger, but none of the small mammals your helmet highlights seem to hold much potential for harm. Small mouse sized primates, each of which cling to spaces between the large arm sized thorns and spores filtering through the air. Your lungs do however detect hints of toxin in the air, even with your helmets filter it still remains in the air, though non lethal, you can tell long term exposure would not do your physical form any favors.

[cybric]

As Andros scans the environment he tastes toxins in the air. Nothing for a Astartes to be concerned about but enough that mortals would be effected. He assumed that any forces that the magos had brought would either be augmented to withstand the toxin or have equipment to deal with it.

With the members of his squad presented it was time for them to begin the operation.

Squad form up. We'll be making our way to the fortification on foot. Once there we will assess the enemy and then bring there doom to them. Elimination of the Magos is the primary objective. If possible we will infiltrate into their ranks and cut off the head of the snake before they even realize that we are even there and by then it shall be too late.

Andros turns to Marcus and nods his direction Marcus you shall be the vanguard. I believe your file mentioned that you had talent at avoiding detection which will be very useful here. Scout ahead and report if you encounter the enemy. Brother Felik and I shall follow

[Malthan]

"Acknowledged."

Marcus vocalised, respecting Andros' attention to detail. He had suspected that his service was to be done from the front lines regardless, so his place in the squad was not a surprise. It was hard to resent a punitive position that he'd held since his failures had left his squad decimated.

Setting off into the jungle, he moved in more or less the most efficient path towards the objective. He kept a decent pace, making sure that his brothers could track him accurately by using his blade to mark rudimentary patterns in the trees, as per the codex. However, visually he kept to a stalking prowl, hoping that the underbrush would disguise him from enemies.

[roll0] vs 40 Agility, Stealth Trained = 40

He also kept his superior astartes senses engaged for any potential threats. The world was filtered a solid shade of grey-green, his augmented visor perceiving the world with a degree of clarity that he knew would be all but impossible in the dense undergrowth were it not for his cybord fitted thermal vision.

[roll1] vs 46 Perception, Awareness +0

[thebothan]

Brother Marcus passed through the undergrowth and weaved his way between the massive vines. After five minutes Marcus came across a beaten track, leading off to the left of his position.

[Malthan]

Marcus, as per his instructions, stayed to the side of the beaten track rather than simply travel along it. Clinging to the thick vines and dense jungle, he attempted to stalk alongside the path, following it as a bank follows a river. He would not blunder into his enemies sight without at least attempting to maintain secrecy.

[roll0] vs 40 Agility, Stealth Trained = 40

[thebothan]

As Marcus stalks ahead, three minutes pass, he slowly gauged a vague shape through the vines and spores clouding the air. About 500 m away some large shape, easily as tall as an imperial bastion, and lined like a castle wall. From you position the shape appears to be a side, and a single promontory can be seen jutting from the side. Behind the shape lies an even larger shape, a hazy outline of hundreds of vines and plants, practically dwarfing even the outline of the barracks. As you see the shape, a single fire report can be heard. A vine near your left shoulder ruptures as a bullet passes through it, spraying a thick paste of steaming caustic fluids onto the marines neck plate.

[roll0] vs 35 BS.. The paste is largely harmless.. fear not.

[Malthan]

Unflinching even as the bullet seared past him, spilling the bitter blood of the local flora onto his newly coated armour, Marcus immediately burst into action. It was as if the shot had signaled some primordial and violent race, the marine's olympian bulk advancing through the undergrowth towards the heaviest cover he could find and reach. Simultaneously, he drew his bolter rifle from its mag-lock, breathing an empty promise to the straining machine spirit.

Soon, it would be unleashed.

[thebothan]

Taking refuge behind a vine, Marcus disturbs a small family of previously unseen eight legged lizard beasts, who scatter from underneath their hiding place, some leaping into the air and unfolding large flaps of skin showing bright purple colors, before landing again off in the dense growths, the color disappearing. Unperturbed by this event, your helmet bursts to life, a red tracer follows the frantic movements of your eyes, sometimes delaying as your armor analyzes the environment seeking out any sign of the shooter. Despite the great distance, your helmet picks out three figures whose faces can be seen protruding from the building off in the horizon. Your armor runs some return ballistics but doesn't implicate any of the noticed forms as the shooter. It does notice however, the personnel carry magnoculars and a one, located on an upper parapet seem to be dictating something to a figure below.

Awareness: [roll0]: vs 46.
Additionally, Common lore (War) [roll1] vs 31.. Ah power armor, how great is it? Especially when it has some personality, yours has a little spark in it...

[Malthan]

Threat runes framing his vision, Marcus peered down his bolter sights, seeing a world veiled in red. He did not seek vengeance, as a fellow brother from the emotional and sanguine Clan Raukaan would. He sought to eliminate high value targets first. The dictator would die first.

Giving a guttural half breath, pausing mid-exhalation, he pulled the trigger and let his weapons machine spirit breathe for him.



Aim and standard attack on the one on the upper parapet, dictating orders.

[roll0] vs 41 BS, + 10 Aim, + 10 Standard Attack = 61 BS

He watched impassively as the bolt flew through the air, the meticulous aiming and logistic report from his armor outdone by the distance of the target. The shot sailed dangerously close to the man but failed to impact. Marcus and his bolter shared a collective moment of furious shame, suppressed in a moment of focused hate. Crouching back into cover, he thumbed his vox, unwittingly tapping into his armour's previously unknown potential. This spirit seemed almost as abrasive as his bolter, though it seemed more eager, practically straining for the marine to descend upon his enemy with blade and pistol, an urge that he suppressed with dedicated focus. Instead he dutifully contacted his allies through a muffled vox filter:

"Brothers, I am under fire. Three enemy targets spotted."

He blurted out a binary mess of coordinates and attack algorithms, his cybernetically augmented psyche from the Ferral Mallis procedure promoting a certain awkwardness around words to compensate for the readiness with which he wielded weapons. The deep growling voice betrayed a certain lack of grace that one might associate with a muzzled hound, leashed by human invention and yet ultimately still brimming with wrath.

"Requesting attack protocol 23, enemy locus estimated at 0.3075.098, ballistic analysis placing targets at 433m range, estimated-"

Even if the data and tactical analysis was difficult to comprehend and hastily structured, one thing was made clear: Marcus wanted to launch an all out attack.

[thebothan]

As Marcus' bolts leave the bolter they find purchase in the walls of the building. In response to your actions, you do not hear any gun retort, nor do you see any sign of the figures that before were standing on the wall. Your armor scans furiously, angered that the objects of your rage have seemingly escaped.



Squad:A voice suddenly enters your vox channel Oh dear, I see Fort Doubtless just registered a three point security alert.. I also see they are sending out a signal into the surrounding growth. However, it is indeed fortunate you found the Fort.

[cybric]

Following Marcus's trail of markers Andros moves towards his battle brother. His armor's machine spirit a silent and sullen thing was doing little to aid Andros as he hurried towards the battle. His movements required more strength to accomplish than other suits of armor but he knew that when the time came his armor would give him the power that he needed when it really mattered. When Andros felt he was getting near to the combat zone Andros unsheathed his power sword and offered up a quick prayer of thanks for the battle that was about to begin.

As Andros nears Marcus's location a voice chimes in on the vox channel. "Unidentified vox user I demand that you name yourself in the name of the Emperor"

[thebothan]

This is Analyst Vespis, I was assigned to monitor your communications, and cross reference them to all known frequencies we pick up from the station, to inform you of anything of potential interest. You did not assume the Omnisiah would simply leave you in the wind on the combat field. We are monitoring everything from a secure line.

[cybric]

Andros moves as swiftly as he can to Marcus's location. "Analyst Vespis. We are unaccustomed to nonastartes vox coms during strike operations. Your intel will be well received however and as a mechanicus you would now their next move. Presumably a level 3 alert would trigger reinforcements to be sent to this location. Can you trace their comms to show us their locations?"

Brother Marcus what do you say to enlightening these fools about the fate of those that turn from the Emperors light? We should take this fort before reinforcements arrive. Strike fast strike hard.

[thebothan]

A Level Three alert would cause a cycle of all off duty sentries to become on duty sentries, and the internal defense forces would be scrambled to repel invaders, as well as strike team formation to take the fight to the enemy. The signal they sent out hasn't gotten a response yet, but I will let you know as soon as any response is made.

[Malthan]

"Compliance."

Marcus advanced forwards, moving from cover to cover with cybernetic speed. His automated, ironclad boots crashed against the undergrowth, the sounds of snapping branches and whirling rivets heralding his approach. The thought of violence overwrote the importance of stealth and caution, the crackling dialogue from the vox barely filtering through his perceptions. He would not rest until the targets were eradicated.

As a full action: moving forwards into cover.

[cybric]

Andros turns his attention towards the Fort. The Autosenses of his armor scanning the area surrounding it trying to determine the best approach for his assualt but as usual the machine spirit of his armor was remaining silent on the matter but Andros was certain that the machine spirit would offer up another route as it always did. "Emperor be with you brother let their allies know your fury by the carnage you leave. No forgiveness No respite!"

He gathered his rage, the birth rite of his chapter, the gift passed down from Sanguinius himself implanted in their blood. The Scarlet Lions tried to be exemplars of Humanity when the could but the time had come and this was no time for compassion and humanity. This was a time of war and rage and domanance. As Andros approached the clearing where the fort was located he started to pick up speed pushing his armor harder and harder till he was running through foliage and plants. His fury and rage begin to raise towards the old familiar peak. The time had come to unless the animal inside him on these foul traitors. With a sharp in take of air he let out a bone jarring mighty rawr through his armors enhanced speaker grill "RAAAWWWRRRR!!!!!" he was coming for these traitors and nothing short of their lives would suffice.



Full Move: sprint towards ememies

[thebothan]

The bastion sits silently far off in the distance. But your keen senses pick out the thin wail of a siren from within its bowels, from the walls you hear three retorts, a subdued flash from the upper-parapets marks out the relative location of three mortars, as a white trailing behind the round arcs into the sky. Hmmm... It would appear the fortress is attempting to flush you out, those should be the standard issue local flora removing rounds, no mortar rounds were ever issued to this command station, they should pose no threat to you. Still no word on the messages recipients.. no conformation has yet been given.

Due to the range, the mortars take 2 rounds to reach you, they will make impact next turn at the end of your initiatives. They follow rules for an anti-plant grenade.
For accuracy: [roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Malthan]

"They think to kill us with farming tools."

Marcus growled, staring upwards at the arcing shapes as he ran. His sensors scanned the shapes, the deforesting design of the mortar shells flashing across his visor. The enemy's intention became clear. The marines were being herded from their cover.

"They think to bring the forest down around us. Request to continue assault?"

He voxed to Andros, his machine spirit informing him that the trajectory of the mortar shots were off point by a significant margin.

Amateurs.

Full Action - Charging ahead with Andros, going for the same enemy position, only difference is cybernetic legs.

[cybric]

Request granted brother! Show the cowards the Emperors righteous fury! Let none stand before you! As the words flow from Andros' lips his speech becomes more urgent, more gutteral as the fury and righteous zeal inside of him continues to rise.

They underestimate our power and fury!