Chapter 7.0 - Calling in the Coroner - IC

Ashmon silently agreeing with Grimnir moves off with him, because no battle brother should be by themselves in this hell scape of mashed together ships that had survived the warp. He felt bad for the crews of the ship, all except the xenos....they can all burn.

Lucius does a double take as Ashmon, the most unblooded of Draco's newest cohort, apparently cares not for orders. Grimnir and Khol, as the group's scouts had their roles and Grimnir's included being a point man.

He patches through to Ashmon privately. "Brother Iron Hand, your standing orders were to provide cover. How copy?"

Ashmon replies in a monotone voice, "You want to dig though xeno filth to be enlighten, that is your choice brother. The order was clear, I am providing cover for a brother. I don't leave people behind."

"I think you mean Brother-Sergeant, Iron Hand. You'd do best to adapt to this environment, or the Thule will eat you alive. Your high-piety may have served you well in the past, but it doesn't mean much here. Intelligence gathering and working cohesively is all we have in here."

Lucius steps in very close to Ashmon. The Tyrannic War Veteran made sure to meet his eyes.

"And if your inability to follow simple orders endangers this team, like giving away our Wolf Scout's position to satisfy your pride, I guarantee you that the Thule will eat you alive."

Lucius awaited a reply if there was one, and then re-conferred with Sapiens.

Ashmon replies blandly, "Piety means everything SARgeant and if you think you are insulting me, you are wrong. You are the one who wants to go off mission. I serve in the Emperors name."

Steps around Lucius and moves to the tunnel Grimnir went down and goes on overwatch.

Lucius gives a snort of a laugh and sighs.

The Iron Hand was as petulant as a child. He wondered if it was a gene-seed defect or a gift from their Primarch.

Maybe both.

Sapiens was not surprised at the Iron hand's reaction. All those he had met had a...brittle quality about them, like toy soldiers made of glass. He looked onto the orkish works and started analysing.

Give me a minute. This appears to be mostly technological, so I should be able to get something.

Sapiens find little value. The eldar structure holds no real clue to its past value besides the design itself.
It appears that this was once an area for a leisurely walk. Now it resembles more of a quarry pit. The orks here were harvesting wraithbone, for what purpose one could only guess.

The area was well lit thanks to the orks crudely bolting incandescent lights every 3 to 8 meters. Towards one exit there was a motorized contraption that suited the small orks. Behind it was a cart filled with piles of claimed wraithbone.

***

Grimnir moves towards the receding orks. The pathway twisted through the Thule's contortions so that walkways had been constructed out of corrugated sheeting and plasteel panels. The construction was shoddy, and Grimnir could feel its construction tested under his feet.
The grots were outpacing him, but they couldn't hope to get away.

Soon, he heard a commotion ahead. Peering around a corner, he sees a dozen of the grots running about a group of the larger ones. These orcs seemed ill prepared for anything. Some were cleaning their guns or sharpening their blades. A few were napping. Some of the grots move further back towards a large hunk of machinery covered by a tarp.

One thing Grimnir could easily tell was that the arrival of the excited grots and what they were telling the bigger ones who would listen was getting their attention.

If he had to guess, they only had a few minutes before this group would rush Draco for orkish "fun."

Cassiel watched the interplay between Lucius and Ashmon and smiled to himself. Forging a united team from each of the various chapters was no easy feat - but well worthwhile. Iron alone is brittle, but forged with carbon it forms steel. Draco was an Alloy - stronger together than any chapter was alone - but it meant changes in the way one thinks about one's own chapter and ways. One would think the Iron Hands would be more open to working with others based on their history with the other shattered legions, but Cassiel was in the same position only a short time ago. He clicks over to a private channel with Ashmon.

"A hand functions best when each finger recognizes they're part of the same fist. Unity of Purpose is a requirement for successful operations, as is Unity of Command. It may chafe to follow orders when you think you know better - I know that perhaps better than anyone else here - but if you think you know better you should state your objection and then defer to your commander."

Cassiel didn't expect Ashmon to bend easily - it wasn't the way of the Iron Hands - but gentle firm pressure over time could reshape even the most stubborn ore. It was a start.

Ashmon responses to Cassiel over the private channel in a dull voice, "Thank you brother Dark Angel for your incite."

Grimnir's voice comes over the vox. He was keeping his voice low so it was difficult to make through the static.

-The small greenskins found some bigger ones to play. If we don't move we're going to have company soon.-

Indeed, the orks were rousing each other into action every minute.

"Dey's fightin' to be 'ad boyz! Sphece mareens!" one says as he kicks a sleeping ork to his feet.

Lucius gathered some of the larger stones into a drop bag and advised Sapiens do the same. Those they could not reasonably carry he placed around the tractor-vehicle. The orks wanted them for some reason, and so they would be denied.* When Grimnir's voice came through he began relaying orders.

"Fall back and lead us out, Brother Wolf Scout. Don't forget the Iron Hand either. We might still need him," Lucius quips with a smile.

"Khol, leave a surprise for the orks when they get in here. If you can deny the enemy, all the better. Draco, we're moving out. Cassiel, you're on rearguard if they decide they're smart enough to catch up. Let's move like we have a purpose."

Lucius stayed where he was while Khol went to work and Grimnir/Ashmon returned. Once Khol was done, they would make haste out.


*Edited after initial post.

With the combination heavy bolter/heavy flamer, Cassiel knew that he could hold off an army in a narrow passage. He waited for the rest of Draco to exfiltrate and he followed walking backward so his weapon remained trained on possible pursuit.

Khol works quickly, setting a grenade with a 20 second fuse in place under the promethium tank. When the thing blew, it would spay the area with tractor debris, heavy stones, shards of wraithbone, and fire.

It should slow down the orks long enough for them to lose your trail.

Sounds of approaching grunts and war cries echoed from the hallway Grimnir had moved down.


Where was Grimnir?

The wolf had not returned from his scouting foray yet. Lucius had no qualms about his survival, but time was beginning to run short.

"Waaaagh!Waaaagh!Waaaagh!"

"Are you done yet brother Khol?" Lucius asked.
"Not yet. That blasted chanting is giving me a headache." Khol responded as he clumsily tried to set the explosive in such a confined spot under the promethium tank.

"Waaaagh!Waaaagh!Waaaagh!"

The orks were just seconds away now. Cassiel, holding a last ditch guard at the rooms exit, let his heavy bolter slide thunk heavily into place, loading the first of many rounds into the chamber.

Sapiens had already started towards the exit. Lucius taking slow backwards steps behind him, his bolter leveled at the chanting corridor. Khol still putting the finishing touches on the IED.

"Waaaagh!Waaaagh!Waaaagh!"

Something new could be heard. It was mechanical. Perhaps it was one of those heavy armored leader orks, a meganob? Whatever it was, the thudding of its footsteps meant it would be trailing the main group.

Suddenly, Grimnir had entered the room at a full run.
"Time to go." he said, slowing down as he passed by Khol, tugging at his armored collar.
Khol let the wolf pull him back, and set the fuse on his grenade.

You all move towards the door at your full pace.

As you do so, the first of many orkls file into the room, loosing off a few shots for fun.
They slow down, the first bunch stopped chanting as they had expected a fight upon entering the pit. All they found instead was some dead runtherds and a few dead grots.
The chanting had not stopped, but the volume was now a dull roar instead of a deafening one. More and more orks piled into the room and started to wonder which corridor the Sphece mareens had used to getaway.

***

Running from the pit, you hear a distant explosion. It was muffled but the chanting immediately stopped. Now the loudest noise was the consistent footfalls of Hydrako. For a good 5 minutes you keep moving. The orks couldn't possibly have all been killed with that blast, but it stopped them long enough for you to make clean an escape. A protracted fight with orcs here was not a good idea. Battle would only cause more and more to arrive before eventually they would overrun you.

There were no no signs of pursuit, but that could easily change......

Lucius clicked over to Grimnir and then Khol. "A dramatic last-second exit? Well done. Take point and get us moving. Khol, excellent work."

They had gathered what they could, blew the rest, and killed some Orks in the process, all with minimal use of supplies. It had gone as smoothly as it could. Now they had other priorities.

While Securing this Archaeotech device and ridding the threat of the Mortis Thule from this system was of primary import, Lucius' hearts were set on finding Draco's lost brothers.

Hold strong, Kor'sahn and Caedmon. We're coming.

He held his position while Grimnir made his way to the front and walked the line to share a word with Cassiel and Bleda. He then made his way back to the front, giving a small gauntleted fist bump to Hydrako in his terminator armor near the front. Khol and Ashmon could hold the line the middle of the formation. Given their loadout and specialties, it made the most sense for them to be able to respond to the front and rear with equal speed.

When Grimnir had a trail for them, the order to move out was given.

Leading deeper into the hulk was easy for now. The hard part was avoiding the amped up ork activity. Many  times Grimnir has to halt the progress and back track to avoid ork search parties.

Their stink was everywhere. It clung to the walls and detritus. It was like the whole place was coated in ork urine.
It removed one of Grimnir's most powerful and underestimated tools.

More and more your path was being blocked off by hastily constructed barricades. They would be easy enough to force your way through if you didn't have the search party gaining on you.

Only too late did Hydrako state what was going on.
"They're hearding us into thier own kill zone. Orders?"

Lucius had not expected the Orks to be this cunning, but was excited for a challenge. Their first encounters with them thus far had been as expected: Kill Team Draco had made them look foolish and torn them apart. Twice. He would give them the small mental honor of surprising him.

But he would not play into their hand.

"Draco hold position at the next barricade. Sapiens, get us through it ASAP. You didn't lug those shears for nothing. Hydrako, assist if necessary."

The Novamarine replayed the terrain they had passed by up to this point, noting all of the kill-zones of their own they could make for anyone following them. All of the vantage points and covered areas came to him and rang out orders.

He put a heavy bolter on both ends to cover each flank. Grimnir and Khol were situated midway in order to deliver their specialized ranged weapons to maximum effects. He and Bleda took up similar positions, behind the bolters but ahead of the lascannon/sniper rifle.

With that, he took a knee and waited, hesh bolter at the ready and the smell of Ork piss fresh in his nostrils.

It was good to have the helm off.

Sapiens pulled out his melta-drill along with the shears, both Integrated to his servo-harness.

I'll try to get us deeper into the hulk. Take care, this may induce decompression.

With the melta-drill, he made a small hole and started working on it with the bulkhead shears.

"Roger that," Lucius responded. He pulled his Mk VII helm from his belt and firmly secured it to his head.

The stench of Ork Piss would have to wait.

Bleda takes a knee next to Lucius as instructed and waits as his brothers position themselves or got to work on the barricade.

Sapiens makes short work of the barricade with all his extra equipment. You find the corridor beyond a bit lacking. It was small, possibly once just a maintenance corridor.

It was too small for everyone to get a good line of fire, and it meant that you would have a limited field of view to the orks. Only 3 would be able to get good firing lines, or be placed to receive a charge, while 2 could safely throw grenades overhead. As the corridor was dark, letting them pass might also be a possibility, but only if they did not spot you as they were running by.

You pile into the dark hallway and wait for the approaching orks. It was cramped, and the large bulk of Hydrako's terminator armor did not do much to help the situation, nor did Sapiens servo-harness.

The orks file past you. They had slowed down considerably as they neared whatever trap they had set. They appeared cautious, you would expect them to simply charge at whatever they wanted to fight. The trap itself spoke of a more clever bunch than you would have thought possible. This kind of strategic savvy was usually only seen in the leader types: the psykers, techpriests, and the warlords (or whatever thier ork equivalents are called)

They pass you without incident. Now is the time to make your move.

Round 1

With a silent order, you flank the orks from the behind.
They fill the hall from side to side, it would be hard to miss them being so tightly packed and so close.

However, your move into the hall was not silent. Before even the second marine was in the hall they were starting to turn and face you.

"Deys dey ah!" someone shouts. By the time the second marine was in the hall 5 had turned around; by the 3rd, 15. With each passing orc more spoke, and even more turned.

Grimnir scanned the green tide looking for priority targets; he easily picked out the orc boss and the weapons specialist. The boss was armoured so more suited for Khol. "Khol, I'm targeting the weapons specialist" he said over direct comms.
He lined up the shot, it was difficult with the jostling crowd of orcs and as he squeezed the trigger about to put a bolt through the orcs eye another of the green scum blocked the shot. Grimnir tried to adjust but it was to late. The bolt fired, it still hit but deflecting off a piece of metal from the offending orc it turned his shot from a mortal to only a critical wound. Grimnir snarled, if he got a chance that orc that got in his way would be his second target.

Bleda spreads his arms wide and for a moment there's shivering in the air before him before a wind strikes out with the force of a howling storm against the Orks. Taking hold of the Xenos forms the wind tears at any loose part of equipment and pushes them backwards. Several of the frontline orks stublem back over each other like drunken morons in a backwards parade. Evern the 2 that stood out could not fight the gale that swept them down.

Seeing the relatively open (if cramped) terrain of the hall, Sapiens projected out the servo-arm with his fyceline torch, adjusting the aperture for a wide spray. A 30-degree, 20-meter cone of explosive flame spread out, the finer ficeline-based fuel burning like a thousand suns. It clung to their rough armor, burning far longer than one might expect and cutting through them...

Ashmon IC

Hydrako IC

The obvious leader was decked out in heavy armor plates dabbed in gaudy camouflage. He bellows something approximating orders:"Go git'em Boyz! Make 'em pay!" as he himself lets lose a volley from his heavy gun. Chunky bolts spit out, they weren't aerodynamic or even rifled, but at that range they rip and tear into Juros. For his part the devastator takes most of the hits without incident. One round, however, tears a chunk out of his less-armored neck plating. Stunned, he brings his hand up to his gorget to see copious amounts of blood. on his hand. He was bleeding out, but it wasn't life threatening.
Or, at least it would not be had the orks not followed the Nobz order and rushed forwards. They wash over you like a tidal wave of green.
Hydrako stands tall. taking most of the hits without effort. His terminator plate withstands anything the orks could throw at it.
Juros, already wounded and dazed, was not so lucky. Once he is hit by the orks he disappears in their mass.

Once Grimnir announced his target, it was obvious what Khol needed to focus on. Though orks were in melee range of Khol, his focus cannot be broken once set. The sights on his lascannon zero in onto the warboss with the assistance of the Signum Link, aiming at the head.... And fired.
The red beam lances through the air with superlative precision. Orks too close to the beam felt the heat, if they'd had hair, it would be singed. It strikes the gut of the leader Nob. Melting striaght through his plate armor, it cauterizes the flesh beneath as it cuts cleanly through his lower right quadrant. He stumbles as he grunts in pain. Somehow, even with a hole in his torso, he managed to stay standing.

Lucius sees Juros go down and immediately radios Hydrako, Draco's resident Tactical Dreadnought. "Hydrako, get to Juros. Pull him out." He then moves to take advantage of the opening provided by Khol. Astartes took the heads off the snakes first and foremost, after all.
He burned his Jump Pack, expertly smashing through and passing by the horde before striking out with the relic power sword in his right hand.
Unceremoniously, the head is removed from the shoulders and falls to the floor. The body, unaware that it is without a nerve center, stands in defiance of its gristly wounds before collapsing to the ground as well.

Cassiel ignored the buffeting from the orks around him.  His heavy bolter would clear a path.  He unloaded on the Heavy Shoota.  "You'll be honored to learn more about Imperial Dakka you Xenos shitstain," he muttered to himself.  
The xenos shitstain could only let out a single squeak as several high caliber bolt rounds rip it to pieces. It was a bit overkill and Cassiel's first shot had blown apart its head in a heavy red mist.


Battle rules:
Shooting the nob or heavy shoota requires a -30 BS test w/o range or aim modifiers. Making your way to them requires a -20 WS test w/o modifiers. Failure on these tests mean you do not get any futher attacks, but a +10 if you attempt the same action again on your next turn. Passed BS tests inflicts an attack immediately, a passed WS test means you will make it to the enemy through the throng.
Current horde modifier (0)

Grimnir saw Juros go down amonst the green tide, the pup was to far for the wolf to help but he could aid Hydrako in getting there. Snarling at the orc closest he ripped his chainsword free and took its head with the same motion, leaping into the space he tried to carve a path that the shark could take advantage of.

With their heavy hitters dead and no one qualified, as far as the term went, to lead. The orks panic. At first it was to Hydrako's grenade, then more ran after Ashmon's salvo, after Sapiens fireburst that was it. Grimnir cutting more down as they ran was just icing on the hate.

They ran down the hall they sought to trap you in.





Battle rules:
Shooting the nob or heavy shoota requires a -30 BS test w/o range or aim modifiers. Making your way to them requires a -20 WS test w/o modifiers. Failure on these tests mean you do not get any futher attacks, but a +10 if you attempt the same action again on your next turn. Passed BS tests inflicts an attack immediately, a passed WS test means you will make it to the enemy through the throng.
Current horde modifier (0)

Hydrako heard the order to retrieve the fallen Juros, and began to make his way through the press to drag the devastator out by his gorget, when suddenly the press of bodies suddenly relented and the greenskins began streaming away from the Astartes. He watched their backs as the writhing mass of kicking legs and swinging arms disappeared down the corridor and away, reticles in his HUD winking out as targets vanished. When none were in sight, he turned and tramped over to the fallen marine to inspect the body. Unworthy he hissed over the voxed before turning away, the slain promptly forgotten.

Lucius made his way over to the Devastator. He unclipped his helmet, saying a quick thank you to the armor for its protection. While the Novamarines were not overly superstitious, tradition and thanks still meant a lot to them.

Seeing that the Marine was indeed gone, he started voxing out orders.

"Ashmon, retrieve the Geneseed. Anyone without a Signum Link, come and equip his. Take all weapons and ammo. We will leave nothing behind. Sapiens, mark the body if you can for future retrieval."

He pulled a box of hellfire and kraken rounds fitted for a heavy bolter off of Juros and handed them to Cassiel.

"Grimnir, take point and get us through that side alley and deeper into this place. Draco, we are on the move as soon as we can be."

"Yer think our fallen brother unworthy do you Hydrako." Grimnir spits back over comms "Reckless for getting in over his head aye, but the fortunes of war mean anyone of use could get gunned down in the chaos of the melee."

He grabbed the signum link and slammed it onto his battleplate and moved off scouting without a backward glance.

Hydrako listened for a moment, as if considering his answer. Yessssss. Unworthy, he hissed again over the vox. To be felled by this rabble of orks? His teeth would be left in his corpse were he a Carcharodon. Forgotten and discarded. Hydrako's own teeth flashed against the dim light of his HUD. You were quick to adopt him as brother for someone who prides himself on being alone. Curious. He followed in Grimnir's wake, being the bastion between any foes and the rest of the squad.

Cassiel accepts the shells from Lucius, indifferent to Juros' fate. Cassiel knew he was slow to warm up to new companions but he was pretty sure that no amount of time would have been sufficient for the prickly Imperial Fist. The loss of another active shooter during a firefight hurt more than the loss of this particular individual - but Cassiel was prepared to lay down all the heavy bolter fire the team would need.

"Ready to move on your order, Hydrako."

Cassiel looked down the way the greenskins had fled - he didn't expect to see them make the mistake of coming back this way any time soon.

Lucius listened and kept cover of the hallways the Orks went down. It had only been mere seconds, the Astartes moving quickly and efficiently, but the decades of muscle memory never went away.

The talk surrounding Juros' death wasn't so surprising. Not everyone was as accustomed to Hydrako's Carcharadon ways. They would learn. It wasn't that he agreed with his Blooded-Brother necessarily. The loss of an Imperial Fist made both Draco and the Imperium weaker. Even still, he pondered.

Juros was the newest member to the team, and thus had spent the least amount of time in combat with Draco. Perhaps it was no surprise he had fallen. Hydrako, Bleda, Cassiel, Khol, and Sapiens had been through the ringer together. Even Grimnir and Iovanus had fought through hell and back with Draco against the Necrons and the forces of Chaos.

He cast a glance at Ashmon as he retrieved the geneseed.

"Let's move out, Draco."

The shark had it wrong. "Open yer fecking eyes and see beyond those metal teeth of yours. At what point have I shown any comradery with any of you, eh. Juros was unworthy cos' he took a blow he couldn't avoid and went down amongst the tide? You've a stunted yard stick for measuring a warriors worthiness."

"Perhaps anyone could have been gunned down in the fortunes of war, but only one among our number was.  It is hard to argue that with a little more care he would be alive yet today.  A foolish error that anyone could make, but still a foolish error that nobody else did make.  All that said, the fact remains that he has fallen and there is nothing but to transport his geneseed back to his chapter and continue on.  Hydrako can consider me unworthy if I, too, should fall - as long as he doesn't let his opinions in that regard lead him to poor choices."  

It was no secret that Cassiel struggled not to deem every son outside of the First Chapter and its successors as falling short in one regard or another.  The Deathwatch tried to instill that there were many ways to fight and achieve success and none was inherently better than another as long as the same results were achieved, but thousands of years of pride in the great deeds of his forebears still made it easy to assume that the Dark Angel methods were 'more equal than others'.

Listen to him snap and bark! Hydrako chided as they stomped through the bodies. Cassiel is correct. He fell due to his own weakness of mind and body. Poor abilities and poorer tactics saw him in that position. It is a pity if the Carcharodon's yard stick is considered short. Time in the Outer Dark should not have seen it deviate from standard doctrine that much...He paused to regard the commando nob as they passed. Do not fear though, Lone Wolf. I like you and will not let the same fate happen to you.

The reaction to the fall of their brother was not something Bleda found encouraging.

"Let us not speak more of Brother Juros' demise. He served in the Deathwatch and fell in its service. There's precious little need to remember or say much else now. Focus is on our mission."

Grimnir wondered how Juros' actions caused him to draw fire; it could have happened to any of Draco. The wolf had ended many an enemy with a bolt from a thousand feet that his vitims could do nothing about. It was as well that Bleda spoke wise words, so he let it drop.

"My heart swells with brotherly love that you like me." he replied with hint of sarcasm "I'll try and return the favour."  

"Bleda is right," Lucius said as they finished distributing weapons, ammo, and gear.

"Get locked in and focus. Everyone."

Once Ashmon had retrieved the geneseed, Lucius placed Juros' hands across his chest in the sign of the Aquila. The team had no Chaplain, so he decided to say a quick word in accordance with the customs of the Novamarines.

"Brother Juros fell in service to Kill Team Draco and the Imperium. His revenge has been had - his killers killed. His name will be etched on our banner alongside Tychon. His weapons will continue to bring death to the enemies of the Imperium. We salute the fallen."

It was a rare thing for a member of Draco to fall, and Lucius hoped in his hearts that Juros would be the last.

Khol listens in onto the conversation about the red ass as he covers one of the passageways. He didn't have much attachment to the bloody sod. Juro came off cheeky, which in the end made him come to a sticky end by his own hands, Khol thought. Khol decided to keep quite and try not to stir up anything. Just because they're in the clear now doesn't mean the enemy won't try to come back with a bigger force and this isn't the place to stir anything.

"Agreed, we need to bug out chaps before we get into a kerfuffle again."

Ashmon collects Juros' geneseed. The whirring of the monomolecular saw and the whine of the pointed srill bit was a grim reminder of what laid ahead for every astartes. The battle plate cracks like a ribcages as Ashmon inserts the pincer tipped forceps. A vacum on the narthecium starts up and the glass tube attached explodes with viscera and the geneseed as it makes its exodus from the dead brother.

Finished, Ashmon fills the tube with a stabilizing fluid. The geneseed was now suspended in a thick, greenish-blue bath and Ashmon removes it and sets it into a storage berth on his belt.
His hands now coated in the blood of a fallen battle brother, he nods that it was time to move on.

The action had only taken 3 minutes, not long in the grand scope of things. But it was anyone's guess when the orks would show up with reinforcements.
Getting bogged down in a numbers game wouldn't help anyone here.

Moving down the recently opened side passage, you move on into the depths of the dreaded mortis Thule.

***

The hulk was quiet as you move further on, deathly quiet. Moving only at 2 abreast through the small corridor you move into the innards. Though it was impossible to tell your direction or even your destination, Grimnir leads. He didn't know where he was going specifically, but he had a penchant for exploration and knew that sitting in one spot while getting your bearings was a bad idea, especially with numerous orks running amok.

Up ahead, the passage opened up into another corridor. Checking the blind corner, Grimnir motions for everyone to enter the passage.
It was clearly another ship as there were subtle differences in the design of the bulkheads and conduits.
The halls were also very wide, through strewn with debris and wreckage. It was dark, the emergency lume globes were so dim that they could be said to hardly be on at all. And the floor was filled with what seemed to be water, sloshing around with every footstep. It was only halfway to your knees, just a minor hinderance. To the right and left each hall ended at a t-intersection in the distance.


Save for the water, no sounds could be heard.

As they move through the silent halls Cassiel observes "the orks we fought were Blood Axes, known among their kind for what could be considered tactical brilliance. Trying to goad us into a trap makes sense for their filth, and it's possible they'll try to track us and catch us at a moment of weakness." Cassiel wasn't particularly concerned, nor did he expect his brothers to worry overmuch. The galaxy was filled with enemies hostile to the uncountable host of humans and their legions of protectors - it was because of these dangers that the Emperor's Angels were created - to eliminate them and make the Galaxy safe for mankind.

"Copy that, Cassiel. I suppose it's good to know that hiding in side corridors is their weakness." Lucius surveyed the area as they walked through it.

Sapiens and Grimnir were the metaphorical eyes and ears of Draco right now. They were being entrusted with getting the Kill Team to its destination.

"Sapiens, are we headed in at least some semblance of the 'right' direction? Grimnir, what of the intersection ahead?"

The Flesh is weak. Ashmon will remember Juros, just like he did with the other fallen battle brothers.

Grimnir knew a bit about the Blood Axes, but he had nothing extra to add over what Cassiel had said so he stayed silent. It was good to know ones enemy. If he'd liked people he might have gave Cassiel a nod but he didn't.

He surveyed the change of scenery and particulary the water which would make moving quietly challenging but he supposed that might also be the case if any other combatants were in the area. As he considered how he'd proceed he answered Lucius "A new ship. Imperial as far as I can tell. Shin deep in water." he clipped back.

Lucius took in the surroundings while his brain started trudging through years of Imperial Naval records he had studied as an recruit. Given the Novamarines heavy involvement in policing and traveling the Halo Stars, Imperial Naval doctrine and history was required reading, so to speak.

I know this ship.

"It only looks new, Brother Wolf," he clicked back with no sarcasm in his voice. The Warp and this damnable Hulk had kept its condition mint, aside from the water damage.

"This is a Lunar-Class Cruiser, specifically the [/i]Magna Laculum[/i]. It was MIA during the great scouring after the Heresy. This ship is nearly 10,000 years old, brothers. The Hulk and its foul Warp travel have preserved it. Let's make our way to the bridge, see what we can gather. Sapiens, I imagine you will want to see some specific areas. Priority search for intel and materiel, preserving whatever we can for ourselves and the Watch."

Lucius moved toward the front with Grimnir as the layout of the lost ship named "Great Lake" came to him, ready to move out.

You make your way through the murky water towards the bridge.

Debris floated on the water causing obstruction but nothing major blocked your path. It was easily removed with some applied force. The water was cold, like from a fresh spring. Nothing smelled out of place, even to Grimnir's keen nose.

After 10 minutes of making your way towards an lift tube, Grimnir halts the party. Floating on some debris in front of him was a phobos pattern bolter with half an armored arm attached....


The casing was red, unadorned, plain. The gauntlet was black, also unadorned and plain. Looking into the gauntlet you can see the meaty remains turned to waterlogged mush, white in color with all the blood having seeped away over the years. An astartes enhanced radius protruded from the watery flesh, the Ulna was no visible from this angle.

Grimnir ahead by thirty metres or so held up his fist, a sign for the squad to stop. He regarded the black astartes armoured fist and the bolter for a moment; both were a from a mark he didn't recognise. Only the Ravenguard he knew wore black from the loyal chapters.

He silently pointed out the find before moving forward, taking up an advanced position to cover the kill team.

Lucius approached and waved forward both Sapiens and Bleda. "See what you can find out about the weapon and the fallen Astartes. I want everything. If it is untainted, we will take it back with us."

Sapiens went to the remains, inspecting them closely.

Phobos pattern bolter...to my knowledge, only a few million where produced, before the end of the unification wars. This is, quite literally, pre-imperium tech. No identifying marks. Should be recoverable, though unless it contains ammo its unusable for now-it uses an exclusive .70 caliber bolt, compared to our standard issue .75. It will be an honor to restore it when the time exists.

Sapiens turned to the armor.

Maximus...great crusade era. Most common astertes armor at the onset of the Heresy. The color...is not very informative. Black was common among the Dark Angel, though admitedly they favored complex iconography even then, and there's none of that. The Iron hands and the Raven guard are possible. Brother Apothecary, might there be any signs of cybernetic enhancement? Could be from the numerous blackshields. Its also possible these are the remains of a more recent technophile. We lack data.

Cassiel added, 'not Dark Angel not that it matters one way or the other. I'd say it's amazing that it's so well preserved, but it wasn't so long ago we found a whole marine in stasis.' Cassiel gave a meaningful look at one of their number. As remains go it didn’t merit attention or burial - even Lucius had lost both arms in combat and it was pretty clear that he didn't miss them. Sapiens, too, knew the flesh was weak. "Why it remains unspoiled is a mystery that we won't unravel without the logs." While he had a burning curiosity to lay hands on any weapons aboard he recognized that knowledge was power, too.

"These remains carry no Warp taint that I can feel." Bleda did his psyhic investigation of the remains. "Bring it or leave it, I'll leave that decision to others."

Lucius nodded at their quick work. "Collect it all, Sapiens. Grimnir, get us to the bridge."

Lucius stayed with their point-man. As his brain had unraveled the exact specifications of this ship, he relayed that information to the Space Wolf.