Chapter 7.0 - Calling in the Coroner - IC

Lucius took up a position near the front, knowing that Grimnir and/or Khol would cover point and began sweeping the area. He left his helmet on, of course, which was no doubt an odd sight for those that had served with him for any protracted period.

He quickly sent out two Vox bursts in Draco Cant: "Grimnir, Khol - how are we looking? Sapiens, do you have any idea on where we should start looking for our objectives?"

His bolter sat calmly in his hands, but he could tell it was hungry. He didn't much care for the overwhelming adoration the tech priests gave to the machines and their spirits, but here and now he could feel it.

As they headed further into the ship Grimnir would change weapons as the terrain warranted; stalker bolter for when there was ample room and distance to use it or chainsword and melta pistol for shorter corridors or any cramped areas.

"All is quiet" he responded to Lucius "No signs of what happened to the crew" Grimnir then speculates "If they were lost in the warp then perhaps thats no surprise."

"Something evil happened here a long time ago. I can tell so much through my gift."

Bleda follows along with the rest of the Kill Team and ever vary of the slightest ripple in the Warp that could give a hint to hostile actions.

Deeper into the ship you head. The ship was a bulk hauler and the more interior you head the more corrosive damage you find. In some places the bulkheads had been worn to orange-brown flakes that were piled along the floor. The air also had a heavy chemical smell. Sapiens' auspex chimes with warnings of excessive toxicity in the air.

It was no threat to you, but your armor would take damage at a faster rate in such an environment.

"They say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, but I'd like to see a beholder who finds this beautiful."

Bleda sweeps his eyes over the corroded enviroment they were traversing.

"I wonder what could have caused this result?"

Iron and Metal wrote:

" Sapiens, do you have any idea on where we should start looking for our objectives?"

I can provide general vectors based on energy and matter density density. Give me a few seconds.

Sapiens started scanning to determine the way forward. He held limited interest in the local machines, their spirits diffuse and likely corrupted by the warp.

Life of a soldier hurry up and wait.
March in silence.
The people on this ship are long dead and not worth our time.
Looks at the standard. We will honor the chapter.

Lucius waited and covered his sector while Sapiens did his thing. He was eager to be moving out of this section. He feared not for himself, but rather the tactical disadvantage of having the structural integrity of the team's armor put into jeopardy was something to be avoided at all costs.

"Give your best approximation and let's get moving. Grimnir you have point. Khol, keep us covered. Bleda, I want to know if the Warp farts. Anything out of the ordinary. Everyone else, maintain tactical spacing. Let's move like we have a purpose, Draco."

With such crowded corridors ahead, he was already on the move to cover the rear like as though he read Lucius' mind. "Roger that chap." Managing blind spots the best he can with a lascannon. One thing for sure though, he would turn them into a real dogs dinner.

Grimnir was always careful but he did push onwards through the corrosive area as quickly as possible as it played havoc with his heightened senses. If anything he was more concerned if it would mask an enemy. While in the area he gave more focus to his sight and hearing to detect any foes as he tried to blot out the stink of the place.

Cassiel marched in silence with the rest of Draco, passively observing the chemical burns. Over countless battlefields he had seen corrosive gas and the effects it had - and this hulk could have been here for centuries slowly rusting away. By itself it wasn't particularly alarming - but whatever the source was could be an enemy...or a weapon. Walking in silence Cassiel remembered the companions that had been left behind the last time he walked the Mortis Thule. If they still lived they could be thousands of kilometers away, or unseen and unseeable behind a bulkhead only a meter away.

"Lucius, what does the Codex say about broadcasting a covert message when we're certain it'll be intercepted by our enemies when trying to connect with allies behind enemy lines?" Cassiel knew the Codex almost as well as the Novamarine, but wanted to plant the seed of an idea.

"Affirmitive, Squad Leader." Bleda responds to Lucius.

Not wishing to waste more time in this seemingly dead hull, you push on.

Following Sapiens directions you proceed towards the holds of the ship where The Argent Ultima choir leader insists is an exfil to deeper within the ship. How he knows such things is up to anyone's guess.

Proceeding deeper, the ship walls are even more corroded here than they had been towards the outer decks of the ship. Many times you simply walk through armored bulkheads that had been reduced to bits of orange rust on the floor.
Even your armor was starting to degrade. At the edges of your hallowed plate, flakes of paint were starting to slowly peel away, leaving consecrated silver ceramite beneath.

After 20 minutes, you arrive at one of the holds on the ship. It was a disaster. Large round containers of what appears to be promethium had been eaten through. The air here was so toxic as to be foul and whatever additives were in the promethium was surely the source of the extensive corrosive atmosphere. Above the liquid containers was a series of rotting catwalks you currently find yourselves on. The only was off of this ship and deeper into the mortis was through the holds.

The footing is treacherous, the air is deadly, the fall is the end.

Cassiel scanned the room noting the rusting supports. In Power Armor team Draco moved like liquid metal, but they were still heavy, hulking objects that the room could barely support. Cassiel made sure to find a place that was well supported away from the rest of the company, then climbed to it. Once on a secure perch he ignited the jump pack that was new for this mission to sail across the room.

He landed on the far side on a relatively solid piece of ground, which was good, because he hit harder than he intended. The others had practiced with Jump Packs extensively and looked graceful - flying through the air with a heavy weapon he looked more like an Ork Rokkit - but fortunately he didn't explode.

Lucius scanned ahead and clicked to the squad, "Try not to die here, Draco. That would be embarrassing."

He quickly scans where he is going to go. Looked fine enough. With a couple quick movements he was in the air, not igniting his jump pack - as it was unnecessary - but hurling himself toward the most secure landing. Once secure, he climbed with the agility of a simian creature, no doubt making Hydrako jealous.

He was easily able to navigate his way across. Once safe, and with Cassiel covering, he began relaying directives to the team as they crossed - giving them an extra set of eyes for safe passage.

"Will try to avoid dying."

Bleda doesn't wait for long before he makes his way across the treacherous metal, finding safe spots to support his weight and keep the momentum going.

After he has reached safer ground, Bleda takes a position to provide cover with his bolter in case of unwelcome company.

True to form, now that Hydrako was no longer the squad leader he drifted to the periphery of the group and went silent. Though he was clad in terminator armour he still managed to lurk around the edges hold while they embarked towards the Thule. However, once aboard, he fell in towards the front of the squad, behind the scouts, in order to present a wall of adamantium towards any dangers they encountered. His shoulder mounted grenade launcher tracked along with the side to side motion of his head as he took in the sights and smells of the hulk as they marched. From time to time it would break sync and jerk towards a particularly deep set of shadows or in the opposite direction down a corridor before going back to its previous tracking pattern.

When Draco reached the catwalks, Hydrako knew he was going to have to go slowly. Given the weight of his armour, he decided going last would be best. There was no sense in collapsing the gantry and leaving Draco to find another way while his carcass dissolved below.

When the rest of the squad had made it across, Hydrako carefully placed each foot in the footprints of the others. The awkwardness of his bulk meant that he also had to tear away any low hanging debris as he went, which further increased his chances of failure. He began to miss the mobility of his jump pack at this point...

Ashemon took his time crossing the perilous catwalks and girders. Each step was methodical and executed with forethought. Unfortunately, he had misjudged the level of corrosion to a girder. As soon as he stepped on it is snapped like a twig. He tumbled to a dubious catwalk on a lower level, but his leg had violently hit something on the way down, causing the leg to go numb.

Bleda, as he was crossing, made it to a spot where he was jumping gaps. As he jumped one of them, the catwalk snapped and sent the destroyer librarian plummeting into the goo had he not reached out and grabbed a support beam. The action, however caused his arm to wrench as the sudden falling weight strained his enhanced musculature to the breaking point.

Sapiens blitzed across the landscape without much of a sweat, if he even had any body parts that still did such things. He crossed some large gaps by using his servo harness and making his own footholds in the bulkhead.

Lucius surveyed the area closely before moving forwards. He missed a weak spot in the floor though, and before he had gotten started his left leg suddenly found itself buried in the floor up to his upper thigh. Able to fight off the minimal pain, he removed his leg from the hole and was able to cross the hold with no further problems.

Khol was making good progress as he crossed, outpacing the others; until something above him gave way. Debris begins falling on him and he is knocked to the ground by a heavy I-beam. His 3 lungs begin breathing harder as the wind had been knocked out of him. Removing the beam, he takes a moment to catch his breath while the others begin to pass him.

Cassiel took the easy way. Any gaps he needed to cross he simply used his jump pack. Like Khol, he had to contend with falling wall panels from some deck way above. But without any real issues he was the first to cross the hold.

Hydrako took a very different approach. Trusting him terminator plate to withstand even the highly corrosive much, he heads down to it. Grudgingly relying on his helmet once again, he walks into the muck. His HUD turns red noting the toxic danger. Ignoring it, Hydrako's armor helps him navigate the semi-current as he walks across the bottom of the hold. He notes that in many places below the liquid there were holes in the floor, indicating flooded decks beneath you. Slowly making his way across the hold, he emerges from the sludge, toxic vapors rising from his chemically heated terminator plate.

Juros was making good progress considering the heavy gear he was carrying. He stepped onto a solid piece of metal and its support crumbles and the floor suddenly became a slick incline. Unable to regain his balance, all he could do was let gravity have its way and he crashes hard onto his arm at the end of the dive. His HUD shows a bruised Humerous, nothing serious.

Grimnir, being the clever and patient wolf he was, was glad to test his muscles against the terrain. He swings from I-beam supports on a lower route and haps along freestanding struts without any effort at all. Somewhere above him, a plasteel sheet was freed from its anchors with a sharp snap. He didn't have enough time to get out of the way as its solidly connects, knocking him to the gangplank he was on. He feels a sharp pain as a rib cracks and distantly heads warning Klaxons go off, telling him he may be concussed. With a grumble he gets to his feet again, shakes his foggy head and keeps moving.

Iovanus, not used to such endeavors, found himself more than able to cross the dangerous obstacle course without incident. A few times he noted falling debris nearby. To himself he thinks that even the fumes here were strong enough to corrode the structure on the upper decks. He arrives shortly after Cassiel.

Eventually, everyone makes it across the toxic holds, some in better shape than others, but everyone clearly combat capable.

Khol gets up from the floor, still winded. As he watches the rest of his chaps do their own moment of opportunities, he continues to catch his breath. The moment allows him to cover what is now behind them, make a head count and to reform back into formation. He thought to himself how easily it is to get hurt in unfamiliar places and tries to solidify this as a learning curve for not considering every option.

"Team Leader", Cassiel voxes, Recommend we assume a wide formation. Standard ordnance in this area may result in significant structural deterioration. I don't see signs of habitation, but this would be a good spot to launch an ambush - especially since retreat from here would be challenging.". Of course, Cassiel thought to himself, if anyone did follow, this would be a excellent spot to waylay them. But there were no obvious signs of pursuit.

Annoyed at himself for some showy display which had cost him, Grimnir still stands at the ready. He cursed his heritage which drove him to such petty glory.

Cassiel spoke some truth, they did have their backs against it. Grimnir calms his internal rancor and projects his senses onwards, seeking out any possible foe.

Lucius watches as the others more or less succeeded in getting across. He also wasn't able to do so without some fault, but he didn't take any damage.

He checked his HUD - a rare opportunity to do so given that he didn't often don his helm - and made sure Draco was still in good shape. The readouts came back mostly fine. Grimnir had gotten it the worst, but he was already moving, so Lucius didn't make a thing of it.

They were all dedicated enough to the mission to get aid if necessary.

He clicked back an affirmative to Cassiel.

"Do what you can to stay spread out, Draco. Grimnir, take us out of here."

Ashmon takes out his narthecium and walks up to Khol and mutters, "Flesh is weak"

Grimnir stands in line behind Khol and takes his 'flesh is weak' medicine from the Iron Warrior. Ashmon would have known the wolf had binonic primary heart and lungs if that mattered a touch, not that Grimnir thought about it nor would he have cared. Nevertheless the was grateful and gave Ashmon a nod in thanks.

Once they were ready at the go from Lucius he eagerly pressed ahead.

Ashmon looks over Grimnir, a half smirk flashes across his stone face as he scans him with the narthecium.

"The Flesh is weak brother. But you already know this. May this help you in the Emperors name."

With the fuel holds behind you, you begin to make your way forward. Soon the constant warning levels on your armor begin to die down with distance.

Slowly, the halls begin to twist, contract, and contort. Many passages are blocked off. This could only be where this ship merged with the hulk proper. Your only way forward was down a steep, twisting passage of jagged metal and sheared bulkheads. Climbing down single file, claustrophobia would cripple lesser men if that term could still be applied to you. Grimnir, taking point eventually find the path blocked at a wall.

The wall, however was not imperial in design. Grimmnir punches the was with his armored fist. It was thick, but not so thick it couldn't  be removed without some effort. Soon enough Grimnir had ripped a hole in it wide enough for an astartes to crawl through.
On the other side of the wall, you find yourselves on a xenos ship. Most likely some Eldar design, The walls were smooth plasteel-like material, wraithbone. Inlaid oblong stones decorated the walls and support struts in a regular and planned manner.

The ship was not silent, however. Echoing down the empty hall was sounds of industry - heavy industry. Not something you would expect to hear on an eldar ship.

"Grimnir, stalk forward and see if you can get eyes on that noise. Be cautious of xenos-traps." Lucius trusted Grimnir to be silent where the entire squad might not. Meanwhile he patched through to the rest of the team who had all read or experienced Draco's last action on this Hulk.

"The last Eldar we encountered here were... friendly... more of less. Another short term alliance could speed our objectives along, if they still live. Designating Eldar life as hostile-minoris unless they prove otherwise."

In other words, Eldar were not to be killed on sight. Parley would be more beneficial. But the sounds of heavy industry gave him the sense that they were perhaps no longer in this section of their ship.

Sapiens shook himself out of his reverie...he wasnt fond of space hulks, despite the wonders they might contain... He knew too many in his chapter who had fallen from such an obsession, and more often than not these places corrupted and damaged what might be worth it. It distracted him.

The alien location restored his focus.

Brother Bleda, does the wraithbone still sing? It will take some time for my own sensor to detect its decay.

Hydrako wrenched off the cloying embrace of the helmet as soon as he was able. He needed to feel the movement of air across his skin and pull it into his nostrils. Anything less was suffocating.

As they broke into the Eldar vessel, he was transported back to the fight against the genestealers and their Broodlord. They were battling a brood of genestealers last time. We should be ready for an ambush again, he hissed into the vox. He tightened his grip on the storm shield the grenade launcher continued to scan around him.

Bleda tries to hear any kind of psychic activity from the Eldar structure.

Lucius follows suit shortly after Hydrako, removing his helmet and giving his blood-brother a wide grin. "The Broodlord was a hell of a trophy."

It was good to feel the "air" on his face again.

At the order to venture further ahead from the kill team Grimnir grins beneath his wolfhelm. Even if it was only for a reconnoitre it gave him a chance to hunt and to be in his own space for a while. "Gladly" he responds over comms, you could sence his eagerness. He reaches up to his right pauldron and activates a strange translucent device that had been attached to his armour. A moment later his armour is surrounded by a stealth field that bends light around it, he would be almost invisible if you didn't know the now transulcent form stood before you. To the wolfs delight it also masked sound which more than compensated for the fact that he wore his battleplate instead of scout armour. Despite the Tau field being a xeno device Grimnir did marvel at what it would allow him to achieve.

He moves off down the corridor and is soon lost from sight.

Bleda hears nothing. If these walls once had lifesong in them, it was all gone now. It was just an empty shell of its former glory.

Grimnir creeps down the empty corridors towards the sounds. It was an easy thing to hide himself, but he didnot rest on his laurels. Too many foolish pups had met their end due to arrogance. Besides the sound, the first thing he notices is the stink. It was the smell of heavy BO and sweat.

Orks...

Peeking his head around a corner, he sees a literal horde of the weaker vermin - grots if he was correct on vernacular. They were dismantling the decks, taking the wraithbone as if it was plasteel. Piles of the jeweled wall decorations lay about the pit. The pit itself went down 3 decks and there must have been at least 100 of the runts scurrying about. Among their number were also the taskmasters. They went among the little ones as a giant among sheep, occasionally whipping ones it saw as lazy. The bigger ones were the real threat in terms of strength, but the sheer numbers of the little ones could also cause problems too.

"I sense nothing from the xenos construct. This wraithbone is dead, cold and empty, Brother Sapien."

Grimnir was unimpressed at the forces before him, even if there were a hundred of them what was that to a kill team. Still he remained cautious there could be other greenskins out of sight. There were ways past which he could easily take but not his brothers he thought, there would be an argument for circumventing the foe and not wasting resources on them.

"Greenskins, mostly grots but some Orcs are dismantling part of the ship. I doubt the whole squad can pass without alerting them." he reported over comms "Kill the task masters and the little ones will flee I'd wager." While he waited for any reply he readied his stalker bolter taking a moment to bring each orc he could see into the weapons sights, aiming for eye sockets, back of heads or other exposed areas.

"Roger. Sight the leader and Draco will get into positions for an ambush."

Lucius relayed orders to the rest of the team. All of them knew how to deal with the Ork: kill the big ones first. In this case, ambush from a distance. And if they couldn't, well that's why they had a Carcharadon in Terminator Armor.

"Move out, Draco."

Cassiel hid his glee with the order given. Draco excelled at close-quarters fighting, but Cassiel knew the benefits of flinging massive ordinance from beyond range from personal experience. It would be nice if they had a chance to use their superior firepower before the foolish enemy closed the distance.

Once it was announced that there's enemy contacts ahead, Khol activates the stummer on his hip and hides within the shadows. He looks through his sights, ignoring the mass of greenskins and awaiting for something bigger to shoot at.

His hiding spot would soon be given away by the others so Grimnir sought better ground, an elevated postion or at least one away from the corridor with some cover. He stalked forward looking for the most advantageous spot.

Grimnir finds the high ground and looks over the 'pit' in which the gretchen mobs worked. After taking a close look at the proceedings, he spots 4 of the taskmasters making rounds among the roughly 100 to 150 runts.

They carried an assortment of crude neural whips, nets, and heavy slug throwers. They had the thick musculature of all ork kind. They wore leather breeches and on their torsos wore leather straps with small flakboard and wraithbone plates. Every time they cracked the whip, electrical sparks erupted with a loud crack of discharge.

As for the small ones themselves, they wore breeches if they wore anything at all, many of them were nude. Most, but not all, had comically oversized slug throwers that barely fit their tiny hands.

Lucius moved forward with Draco as they all took up positions. He could barely see Grimnir, a testament to his skills. Activating a stud within his gauntlet, he sent out a series of short clicks across the squad comms.

In position. Select targets. Engage.

With the aid of the signum, he could see through the Hesh Bolter's sighting system that the shooters had targets painted. He picked a taskmaster and sighted on the flesh of the side of its green head. Waiting for the millisecond of space between his heartbeats, he squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession.

Ashmon moves as close as possible. On hearing the bolters of his brothers fire, he charges in to keep any xeno slime from escaping the pit with his chainsword swinging!

"DIE green filth!"

Simultaneously shots ring out frpm above targeting the taskmasters.

Grimnir and Lucius' targets heads are completely removed in a red mist. The body jerking and falling to the ground with subsequent shots blowing chunks of flesh from the corpse.

Cassiel took a different approach and simply hosed his target down in heavy bolts. It was no less a gruesome display.

Sapiens opted to melt his target to goo. A massive smoking and hissing crater was left in its torso and a empty look in its eyes.

Once the shooting starts, the grots screech excitedly and scurry off towards any exit. Ashmon pelted them from afar with bolter fire with extreme predjudice.

Once the killing grounds were clear of anything living, you can see that the orks had turned the pit into a quarry. They were obviously harvesting wraithbone. For what purpose only the xenobiologis would care. Piles of the jeweled forms so often seen in eldar architecture were scattered about the floor. Obviously they didn't have a use to the orks as the wraithbone itself.

You could search the area if you choose, but its highly likely the grots would alert the bigger forms to your location...

"Good kills, Draco. They'll be back soon with their bigger, stupider friends. But we should at least be thorough and see what this is about. Heavy Bolters on general overwatch. Grimnir and Khol on surgical precision if we get company. Sapiens, with me. Let's see what these filthy buggers were up to. Tell me what we're looking at and if anything is worth taking."

With that, Lucius jumped forward relying on his jump pack to swiftly and quickly control the terrain.

Cassiel moved to cover the position the snotlings had run down taking care to measure the distance for his firing line. If he could hit them as they rounded a corner he didn't have to worry about anything with greater range - but with these primitive Xenos that wasn't likely, anyway. The bolter was ready to spit death on an unimaginable scale. And if they get close enough, we'll have a barbecue, Cassiel thinks to himself.

Lucius and Sapiens make their way into the pit, still hearing distant ork noises from the exit tunnels.

The bottom of the pit was pilled with ork garbage: plates, scrap and piles of detritus. Approaching the piles of wall jewel decorations has no visible effect on them. They were a deep red and the size of an astartes fist. They were clearly bigger than the ones the aspect warriors wore on their chest. The golden trim they had been set in was already removed, leaving just the oblong shape.

The walls themselves had been extensively damaged. Panels that were more like jointless slabs of material has been forcibly broken and removed. From what you can tell, the wraithbone was old and dry. There seemed nothing special about it....

Not having been given any specific orders Bleda settles in with his bolter, ready for action in case the Greenskins would return before they were done here.

This is a waste of time and a intellectual risk to the mission, and greater purpose of the Vigil, the Librarian thinks to himself.

Khol continues to cover the area with a Lascannon from his current position as members from the kill team investigate the area. If anything shows up, he'll be the first to know.

"We waste our time here Lucius." there was irration to Grimnirs voice "I'd love to split greenskin heads all day like the rest of you but we've bigger game to find." Without prompting Grimnir moves off "I'll find a way through for us." not caring for orders the wolf did what he did best, he disappeared at some point to the squad as he navigated through the orc lair to see what was beyond.

"Noted," Lucius says with a slight smile on his face as the grumpy wolf moved past to get on point and give the team eyes where they needed them.

"Sapiens, what are your readings? Let's be quick about this." Lucius studied the jewels intently, looking one over to see what his hypno-indoctrination would reveal...