What Hides In Darkness (40K)

[SirNitram]

Mal is again travelling light, with only his heretical loadout from before, with the only change being a collection of frag and krak grenades. The gunfighter shakes his head. "The Russ, if nothing else, is three self-propelled heavy bolters through portions of the mine, and a cannon wherever more walkers show up. We are not the Emperor made flesh, we can use the firepower against another of those."

[Pcm979]

Rause looked up from performing one final diagnostic on his Narcathium and followed Crassiros into the Thunderhawk. He appeared to have kept much the same gear as before, except for swapping his Stalker shell equipped bolter for a more traditional pattern, with a slightly larger magazine, and taking a backup Bolt Pistol in a thigh holster.

[GeneralTacticus]

Once again, Halima was last to arrive in the launch bay, with the preparations for departure nearly complete. Her equipment loadout was very similar to the last time; however, her ammunition supply had a strong bias towards Hellfire and Kraken rounds, and she’d brought along a full-fledged Storm Bolter to supplement her pistol.

The rest of her staff appeared to have the same idea: same again, only more so. Theda had swapped her hellgun for a bolter, and Federov had replaced his two destroyed combat servitors with half a dozen more – four carrying heavy bolters, and two with lascannons.

In addition to the five Vessorine Janissaries still capable of fighting, there was a full company of Inquisitorial Stormtroopers embarking to establish a landing site and support the incursion. And, for psychic support, six of the ship’s most stable Astropaths, and whatever Sanctioned Psykers the Lord Inquisitor saw fit to assign them from his retinue.

Hopefully, it would be enough.

[B4UTRUST]

Gravin left the briefing in a hurry. Sadly most of his own personal retinue was incapacitated from their last encounter or dead. Damien and Pvt. Dyson were all that were left. Lt. Calad was injured and in the medbay having his leg repaired.

With a few terse commands issued through his vox his men armed themselves and met him in the hanger. He was happy to see Damien's lascannon was ready to go. He himself had rearmed and grabbed as much extra ammo and gernades as he could carry. He was vastly underarmed and undermanned. But he was an Inquisitor by the Emperor and he would bring the holy wrath of the Inquisition upon the Xenos for their transgressions.

Seeing Inquisitor Toran arriving shortly after him with a company of Stormtroopers and the Janissaries in tow he smirked to himself. Yeah, he was seriously undermanned for this op. Stormtroopers were great forces to have at your back. But, he thought to himself, it might be better to have someone who was more familer with the planet itself.

He made his way into control room against the far wall. Inside he activated the cogitator. Using his badge of office he accessed the higher level systems and issued forth an order to the planetside Imperial Guard. He issued his official request for personal reinforcements in the form of a small company. He made two additional notes to this, informing them that any available high end weapons were to be issued for this as laspistols and lasrifles seemed to be mostly ineffective except for sustained fire. The second note was an additional order to mobilize troops to blockade any routes into the mining facility itself. It wouldn't do a damned bit of good to route the xenos threat out of the facility only to have them run right into the cities. Best to have some form of defense in place already.

He logged out of the cogitator and left the room and headed back to the group readying to depart.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

Crassiros sat in his accustomed seat in the thunderhawk, litstening to its pilots complete their pre-flight rituals and invocations. They were by necessity, brief and functional rituals, that mostly involved brief checks of the ship’s systems. When this was done, they pressed the launch readiness button, and the ship was ejaculated from the forward landing bays on magnetic runners. Two such runners extended from the fore of the Burden of Judgement, like most stike cruisers or black ships, allowing thunderhawks and assault boats to be launched with increased initial speed on an insertion profile. The displays in the cockpit showed a ninety degree rotation was necessary, and so they did so, the orb of the planet’s horizon shifting with them as they returned, with arrow-like swiftness, to the facility on the planet’s surface, the atmosphere blazing against the blunt vessel’s windows before finally clearing as it cruised in towards the null field.

[GeneralTacticus]

“I was planning to follow the Astartes.â€

[B4UTRUST]

"I agree and disagree with that. The Astartes will be busy dealing with enough problems that we and our sizable force would possibly do nothing more then get in the way and result in unfortunate friendly casualties. While our psychic abilities may benefit them, the situation may not be overall beneficial to us all.

"I honestly am torn between trying to find another entry point and covering the facility in a two-pronged attack or moving in with the Astartes. I suppose the easiest situation then would be to follow them in and then if it proves to be burdensom to them with our forces in the way we shall be able to break off and split away to cover more ground."

With that Gravin boarded the inquisitorial shuttle and waited for the others to board and strap in. Then they could get off this ship and planetside. As it was they were already behind the Astartes.

[White Haven]

As the Thunderhawk's ramp slams down, a black blur emerges, skidding to a momentary halt at the base of the ramp before vaulting up into the air with a scream of abused boosters. Brother Grayson will make his attonement to their machine spirit later...for now, he flips around to brake his headlong leap in mid-air, hanging for a few seconds before plumetting back down to the ground.

"LZ appears clear, brothers."

Not the most scientific recon...but it has the advantages of surprise, an overhead perspective, and a chance to draw fire. When taht sort of a maneuver doesn't, that's usually a good sign.

[B4UTRUST]

The transport filled with the Inquisitorial retinues touched down a few moments later. The ship had brought them safely from the ship to the planet with relatively little turbulance and no incoming weapons fire. Gravin wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. He would make up his mind on that one later he supposed.

As the ship touched down, doing so a lot more gently then the Astartes-laden Thunderhawk, the ramp descended. Gravin unfastened his restraints and stood. Motioning to Damien and the others he stepped smartly down the ramp and into the sunlight of the world.

[Charon]

Brother Vibius dropped down onto the ground and quickly scanned the area, no movement. Hefting his bolter he began moving away from the ship, keeping his eyes watchful for hostile movement.

"I would not doubt that they know we are here again though Brother Grayson."

[SirNitram]

"That's a guarantee." Mal said as he emerged from the Thunderhawk and surveyed th LZ. "There are likely not enough Marines with a psychic-null sufficient to evade detection in the whole Imperium. Still, we use every tool."

[GeneralTacticus]

Halima’s shuttle touched down, and the Inquisitor stepped out into the refinery, warp senses alert for any sign of nearby enemies. Around her, the rest of the landing force touched down, platoons of Stormtroopers disembarking from transports and securing the area with practiced efficiency. They didn’t bother establishing anything permanent – odds were, they’d be moving on shortly and such efforts would be wasted – but if anything approached before they left, they’d be ready.

Meanwhile at the edge of the refinery, work on the landline had resumed under the supervision of more Inquisitorial Stormtroopers.

[Cynical Cat]

The xenos sensor mast was clearly visible to the landing parties, but there appeared to be no other alien presence on the refinery roof. Now that they were inside the null, the psykers could much more clearly sense the warp disturbance. Its origin in real space lay ahead of them and below, somewhere inside the mountain that the mining facility had been boring into.

The psi-web, on the other hand, was absent

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hand Leader !Klilik watched the sensor data through his helmet autosenses. The high warrior caste of the humans had returned. He regretted the change of plans that had prevented him from posting air defence batteries on the roof, but there was no use worrying about that now.

He signaled his troops, moving them into defensive position. The enemy had been able to overcome drone soldiers and Vanguard myrmidans. Now they would face Praetorians and soldiers of the Race.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

“Even brother Grayson is not as obvious as a thunderhawk landing,â€

[Cynical Cat]

A boom echoed through the air as the battle cannon shot severed the sensor mast. It fell to the roof with a tremendous clatter. The roof top cargo bay was filled with the remains from the ferocious conflict earlier in the day, but unguarded. Aupsexes carried by the Deathwatch and the Inquistion registered no nearby xenos, but stronger energy readings further away. Comparison with plans stored in a cogitator revealed that these were the transport corridors connected the mining operation burrowing into the mountain with the main facility.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

“Now that,â€

[Cynical Cat]

The main access way was over a kilometer long and wide enough for a pair of Leman Russes to pass each other in the middle and had sidewalks on either side. Drone soldiers hid in niches, behind support beams, and behind wrecked equipment. The bodies of the dead and broken equipment and vehicles gave mute testamony to what had happened earlier.

Two humanoid Vanguad battle robot stood in the center of the passage, holding the line as the remaining forced fell back and began to secure another strong point. With endless paitence they waited for targets to appear.

[Charon]

Vibius followed closely behind Crassiros, as he pulled out the storm shield he had acquired for the mission and thumbed the activation switch. In his other arm Vibius held his bolter at the ready, a clip of hellfire rounds prepared and in the chamber. On his shoulder hung his powersword, sheathed for now but ready for combat.

[SirNitram]

"So much for bringing a tank to soak up a little fire.." Grumbled Mal as he followed the Deathwatch down the hallway, his two pistols in his hands and active.

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

"You're welcome to send for it, we should have vox contact now that it's inside the null field," Crassiros voxed, sprinting up a set of steps and letting his helmet's sensors cut through the gloom, before dropping his bolter onto its strap and peering at an auspex. "Contacts. Numerous. Ahead... Something blocking our way, possibly the dreadnoughts..." he said, holding up a hand for any members of the inquistorial teams not wired into the vox network.

"Brother Mal, get the tank..."

[Pcm979]

Siaides bit down the urge to politely request radio silence, settling for powering his Lighting Claw up to standby mode, a high-pitched whine quickly climbing out of human auditory range as the unit's systems heated up. He raised his Bolter and aimed it over Crassiros's gigantic shoulder, covering the other posthuman.

[Cynical Cat]

The Leman Rus rumbled into the main transit tunnels, heading towards the Space Marine positions as the Astartes and Inquisitors made their plans. The tank's commander, a short but deceptively strong man named Iridan Vult activated his vox on the other side of the null shield. "Tank Emperor's Mercy has pierced the null and is advancing to rally point."

[SirNitram]

"A pleasure, Mercy. I am Brother Mal, of the Duskguard, and I am assigned to assist you. We will be taking point. We have detected at least two dreadnought-type targets."

[Cynical Cat]

"Understood Brother Mal," Vult replied. "Mercy's ETA is 5 minutes. We bring the Emperor's wrath with us."

[White Haven]

The light beginning to stream from the head of Damon's halberd betrays his own eagerness, his partially-controlled gifts swirling around him. He stalks down the center of the passageway, twisting from left to right, scanning the access corridor back and forth, over and over again. A plasma pistol occupies his free hand, training along with his gaze as he waits for a target to present itself.