Samael rocks from the force of the blow inflicted by the Raven Guard, but quickly stands up in the face of the oncoming danger. He winds back and swings a heavy-fisted punch towards his attacked, the force of which that would have cleaved a normal man's head right off his shoulders. Whether the effects of the krak missile were still in effect or fatigue was beginning to set it, Samael's effort goes wide as the Raven Guard steps calmly to the side, avoiding the blow completely.
Inquisitor Alaunus remained down for the count, searching through her mind for something to hold onto. Swimming through the power of the warp had driven her to the ground and it looked as if that is where she would stay for the time being. She clenched her teeth, eyes closed, bearing the weight and strain put upon her tiny body by the power of the Immaterium.
Mac lets out a triumphant jaguar yowl as he mulches the elbow of the Alpha-traitor with the crippling teeth of his chainsword. The teeth bite solidly into the arm, much better than the Eagle Knight expected. A grim, satisfied smile comes to his lips as he watches the scene unfold before him. With an assortment of unnatural, wet ripping sounds, the arm of the Legionnaire flies free of the body, trailing blood behind it in a crimson arc. The Alpha Legionnaire fell, fatally wounded and bleeding profusely.
Greeth doesn't hesitate, and as soon as "Alpharius" goes down he is on him. He rips off the Legionnaire's helm and scans the mangled scarface with his reductor. "This may take a minute Mac, neither heart is beating. The sudden loss of blood has caused hypovolemic shock. I have to revive his Larraman's organ to keep his arteries in his shoulder from hemorrhaging." He pulls out a capsule from his sanguinary priest items and crushes it in his hands. He pats the arm socket with the white powdery substance to facilitate INR reduction. Reaching back into his gear he slides out an injector and jabs it carelessly into his neck, pushing a bluish liquid right into the neck muscles, which then bulge slightly as they spasm. With the blood coagulating he pulls out another injector and locates the jugular vein on the neck. Sliding in the needle, he pushes a clear yellow fluid in. He had to struggle the whole time. The urge to rip the traitors body into tiny pieces of gristle was a strong urge to resist, the blood was everywhere and it made his nostrils flair in anticipation, even through his helm's filters. With the chemicals administered he gets off of the body, soon to be victim. Creatia was a savage place, and the flesh tearers were a savage lot themselves. He saved this sadistic torture only for the most vile of enemies, even killing them twice did little to satiate his bloodthirst. He pounded on his chest with a fist to get the adrenaline pumping and the traitors eyes shot open as he spewed blood from his mouth onto his own face. He sees his death looming over him, "What is this then?" the traitor asks with a deep, raspy voice. Greeth stares at his victim and pulls out his combat blade. He would not corrupt his exsanguinator on such filth. "I wanted to make sure your death was more painful then all imagination. Tell your primarch that we are victorious today," he hisses as he plunges the blade just below the sternal notch. He cuts the skin and plunges his fist in the open wound....searching. With a gasp from the victim he knew he found it. He grips the geneseed of the filth and rips it out in a gushing torrent of visera. The victim makes a moanful, gasping sound that was like a holy chant to Greeth's ears. Greeth stands and watches. The moaning grows louder as the victim goes into massive organ failure. The blood, black now from kidney death, starts to flow from the arm socket again. It spews from his mouth with every breath, and his shallow breathing becomes gurgled as his lungs fill with blood. The hemoptysis doesn't stop. Every agonizing second was burned into Greeth's memory as pleasant. Finally the victim gives a last breath and dies again. Wasting no time, Greeth brings his bloodied combat blade out again and decapitates the body. Pulling out some leather cord, he adds the bloody head to the gristly trophies hanging from his belt.
Not missing a beat, Fulrik drops his Soundstrike, pulls out the poisoned knife of his former honor brother and sprints to the position of Sam and Bertram. It was all coming to a head. And quickly.
Bertram tilts his head slightly at Sam's wild punch. "Who are you, really?" He whispers over the external vox. "No true son of Corax would willingly keep such company." Keeping him occupied, the Raven Guard cursed the need to keep him alive. While unlikely, there was the slight chance Sam would know of other infiltrators in the Watch.
Samael 16; Heavy Bolter [95/125 Bolt][119/125 Metal Storm]; has taken 2 critical explosive damage
Mac 15; watching Alpha A's second death; has taken 4 critical damage [squad mode]
Inquisitor Alaunus 15; next to Kal'vek with her Force Sword drawn and kneeling on the groundAlpha B 14; Legion Bolter [15/24]
Fulrik 13; close to Sam and Bertram; Soundstrike [6/8 Krak]; Bolt Pistol [3/14 Kraken]; has taken 15 wounds [7/22] [solo mode]
Kal'vek 12; Bolter [25/28]; unconscious [0/20][2/2 FPs remaining; 1 burned] [squad mode]
Bertram 8; defensive stance against Samael [squad mode]
Greeth 7; covered in blood and gore; has taken 13 wounds [10/23] [squad mode]Alpha A 6; in melee with Greeth; Chaindagger out; has taken 4 critical damage; fatigued (5)Alpha C N/A; has taken 6 critical damage; Fatigued (3)Alpha D N/A; has taken 14 wounds
Fulrik barrels through the melee of Bertram and Samael. His former honor-brother had thrown a lazy punch that the fresh Librarian had dodged with ease. Quite literally pushing Bertram aside, uncaring of the ire it will draw from the Raven Guard, Fulrik smashes a fist into Sam's chest armor, again and again, forcing every ounce of strength in his being into the blows quite literally trying to smash the ceramite and adamantine plate apart under his fury.
After the sixth blow, he throws Samael up against the door that he was so eagerly trying to open and snarls into his face, "What are you doing, Sam? Sam... is that your name? Who are you? Answer me!" Fulrik smashes his bare head into Sam's, feeling a bloody wound open where his flesh connected with the traitor's helmet.
Samael was silent at first, looking through his helmet and into the eyes of the Space Wolf that he had called brother for a time. He pondered the best way to answer the questions presented to him, knowing that he must eventually speak.
"What must be done, Fulrik. What must be done..." He breathes out the words in ragged breathes, tired from the exertion of battle and the wounds inflicted upon him. "Do what you will with me, I will die knowing I did my duty for him." He trails off on the last word, leaving it hanging in the air.
Fulrik wants to explode, wants to scream and yell and rip apart Samael for this betrayal. He pulls off his ruined helmet and drops it to the ground, looking his former honor brother in the eyes one last time.
"You are a liar and traitor," Fulrik's voice is a whisper. "If there ever was any honor in you then this is for that. I won't let the Eagle take you alive."
Fulrik doesn't wait for a response and drives Sam's poisoned blade into his throat with all of his might, pinning the "Raptor" to the stone wall.
Samael smiles in the split-second before the tip of the blade courses its' way through his neck. He knew it was the end and he was completely content with that, knowing that despite his failure in this mission, he had served him well in this life. The blade breaks the skin and plummets through his neck, pinning the Alpha Legion operative to the wall of the mine. The poison flowed through him, crackling down the veins and shutting down his nervous system.
After a few short moments, Samael died.
Fulrik turned and walked away and didn't stop until he was at the lip of the cavern, staring down into the seemingly endless mine. He didn't care about the wrath of his squad leader and how this put a damper in his plans. Nor did he care how the others in the squad viewed his "lenience" in granting the traitor a swift death.
An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. He did it the Fenrisian way - the way of the wolf. He wondered if Samael had been counting on that, knowing better than anyone else on the team exactly how Fulrik would react when encountered with the truth of betrayal. In that way, no matter what his mission - success or failure - he knew the Wolf would deal with him quickly and coldly - no chains, no interrogations, no chance to spill any secrets...
It didn't matter. The All Father made it very clear to the Wolves of Fenris when it came to dealing with traitors. Fulrik sank to his knees at the edge of the precipice, his hands on his knees and sorrow, fury and regret plastered across his features. He yearned for Fenrisian Ale - to drink away the torment of losing a brother - of never having a brother to lose in the first place. Knowing that no Ale was in his future, he decided that he would drink his own fury and hatred instead.
The giant, feral Astartes sat in contemplation for a long while, caring not about what lay behind the door, nor the Inquisitor who had tasked them with retrieving it.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Inquisitor Alaunus stands from her reverence next to Greeth and Kal'vek, who has now become fully conscious once again. She watched as the Space Wolf moved over to the lip of the mine shaft, a look of slight compassion on her face. She knew all to well how one would deal with traitors. A glimpse of the past touched her eyes as she saw the members of her first team of Acolytes. The screaming, endlessly screaming in her mind. She had put them to the torch and she would never even dare to assess the Space Wolf's decision. It would always have come to this...no matter what...
She moves further towards the bodies at the front of the cavern door, in the shadow of the Flesh Tearer. She passed him as he removed the gene seed from the fallen Raptor...Alpha Legionnaire...whatever he was, and moved to the entrance of the antechamber. She peered inside for a quick moment and then pushed the door fully open, the Alpha Legionnaire's having provided a quick entry to the chamber.
She walked inside, feeling the eschewing presence of the twisted warp patterns within the room. At the back of the chamber stood the most unholiest of altars, dedicated to Chaos Undivided and wreathed in the many symbols and sayings of that blasphemous, traitorous denomination. The tome sitting atop the altar radiated a sickening, contaminating essence, but the psyker was up the task. As always.
She moved to the back of the chamber, fighting off the voices from the Immaterium, the warnings and whisperings from beyond. From her pack, she removed what to many looked like a regular steel container, but of course it was not. This dampening container could hold even the most horrifying of artifacts and dampen their connection to the warp. Upon placing it on the ground, she removed a pair of not-so ordinary gloves as well, pulling them over her hands. The soft red glow of the room seemed to pulse with her movements, wary of her and yet powerless to stop her from stealing the artifacts.
After removing the tome, a part in the ground opened up to reveal a long chest, which the Inquisitor picked up as well and placed inside a containment device. After completing her work, she moved swiftly out of the chamber, aware that staying too long might break down the finely tuned psyker conditioning of her brain. It was not safe to stay too long in the presence of an altar dedicated to Chaos.
She moved outside once again, making mental notes in her head.
"Kal'vek must be attended to, and with great care. Bertram if you would and any that wouldn't mind assisting him. He is in great need of care at this moment. We will need to send in a team to dismantle and destroy this section of the mine. Unfortunately it must be closed in this way, despite the protestations of the planetary powers. Kill Team, I believe it's time to excuse ourselves from this planet. I will instruct the Inquisition as to what has transpired. Flesh Tearer, if you would please retrieve the gene seeds of the fallen here, it would be much appreciated. Those who wish to may take their trophies. I do believe the Eagle Knight requires a great deal of medical attention as well. Once all is prepared, let us ascend this wretched mine and be done with it."
"And the Guardsmen? What of them? What of the Ork invasion?" Fulrik does not look back. He asks from his still seated position.
Mac finally speaks up, apparently drained after falling out of his zealous fugue, "We have answered their prayers with the violence of our insertion. Now it is up to the people to prove their worth to the Emperor now that the swine are on the back foot. I believe that Steig and his progeny will see them through in the coming years, if they are to last."
He stops at the threshold of the altar room, "Was it worth it, Inquisitor? Was that vile codex worth it all? Is the Inquisition to sit upon this temple of the Enemy rather than raze it?" Before she could answer, he turns and starts walking out of the mine. "The Eye of Heaven has witnessed our deeds this day. Pray it looks favorably upon you, atlacatl."
The Eagle Knight marches out of this den of depravity, and back into the embrace of the sun.
Fulrik gets up and walks back to the headless body of Samael. He unplugs the ammo feed from its place on the backpack and lifts the heavy bolter from the ground. Just because Sam was a piece of trash didn't mean the sacred weapon was. It was issued by the Deathwatch and it would be returned to the Master of Arms. Carrying it by the top handle with one hand, Fulrik walks back to his Soundstrike, the Fyrie Wyrm. He sets the heavy bolter down and instead picks up and mag locks the Soundstrike onto his own back. Hefting the heavy bolter once more, he starts walking out of the mine before waiting for a response from anyone else.
The Inquisitor walks behind them. It wasn't her job to be liked and she knew this crew would take many missions to ever show her any form of respect. Especially the Space Wolf. Damn near killed me...even if he held back...But as all Inquisitors knew, it sure as hell wasn't a popularity contest.
"The Imperial Guard will see to that mess, Space Wolf. Once we attain contact with the Inquisition, they will see to it." She answers Fulrik with a calm tone, devoid of much emotion in the light of the strain this mission had put on her.
"I do as the Inquisition asks, and sometimes it asks a lot. What must be done, must be done. As to what the Inquisition does to this place, Squad Leader, that is entirely up to the powers that be. I have no say in it," she says, exhausted with the effort of ascending the mine once again. "I can only speculate..."
The sun illuminates the mine shaft as the wary and disheartened Kill Team makes their way back to the surface. The sun beats down on the black armor of the Astartes, as all stop at the top.
Bertram wondered why the Space Wolf was the only one who felt the need to extract vengence personally. No matter how close the two may have been there was still the matter of Samuel, assuming he was truly a Raptor, despoiling the line of Corax. The only thing holding his hand was the fact he did not doubt Fulrik would not restrain himself if he stepped in. Watching the body fall he shook his head, the chance for answers gone. Walking behind the Inquisitor he stops at the door, grimicing beneath his helm at the pyschic waves pouring from the alter. "This place should be destroyed." He muttered, pushing against the tide of voices in his head as he watched Alaunus work.
Returning his sword to his hip he moved to Kal'vek. Reaching down to help him up Bertram sighed. "You are lucky Nocturne breeds such hardy warriors." Looking over to Greeth "After Sam's geneseed has been examined, the Librarius will take possession of it."
Raven Guard Librarian
Mac responded to Bertram, "Negative. The geneseed is ours by right of battle and by the betrayal of brotherhood, and ours to dispose of. Once the testing is complete, we will see to it that it is properly done away with."
Having recovered consciousness, Kal'vek silently observes the proceedings. He had considered whether he might be dead, but the decided lack of violence against enemies of the Empire or singing of a heavenly host dispels that thought. The cold calculus of whether planetary defenses can hold against the ork invasion and whether a handful of Astartes can decide the fate one way or the other is not a part of the Imperium he cared for. In agony, he forces himself to his feet. Pulling off his helmet he forces a smile, though it is clearly a pained grimace. "I'm not sure how I'm alive, but I feel good. Really. We can stay a few extra days until this infestation is properly exterminated. Just the type of rest and relaxation the Apothecary ordered, I think".
"You would insult them with the geneseed of a Traitor? The line ends with the Traitor, the seed is irrevocably tainted by association. They will never be burdened with the shame of his fall, if he was truly one of them, by the Deathwatch's wall of silence, but I will not have the blood of Traitors running through the veins of a new generation. By the bonds of the most ancient brotherhood, we owe them that much."
Kal'vek looks aprisingly at Mac. Talk of ending a line of traitors reminds him of the suspicions cast on the Eagle Knight chapter. Rather than joining the argument, he decides to sit back down - rest and recuperation are the order of business until the team engages the ork menace.
Fulrik makes his way to the top of the mine and stops by Kal'Vek. The Space Wolf must look something fierce, hefting both a heavy bolter and the Soundstrike missile launcher on his back. And, as always, going without the confining helmet.
"How do you fare, son of Vulkan?"
"I am alive and I have breath. As long as that is true, I would help these people. I am well enough." Fulrik doesn't need heightened senses or medical training to see that Kal'vek is much worse than he claims. The fact that he is alive is miracle enough - the best medical care in the Imperium has brought him back from the edge, but he is still precarious. A heavy coughing fit might be enough to put him down again.
"As would I." Fulrik sets the Heavy Bolter on the ground once more and offers his hand the Kal'Vek to help him rise; one god of war to another.
Kal'vek accepts the proffered hand and rises. With conscious effort, he walks without staggering. "I suppose we must deliver the cargo before enjoying an afternoon taking in the local color?" The reference to cargo clearly indicates both the artifact and the Inquisitor.
Fulrik looks back over his shoulder, seeing the Inquisitor toying with some fancy new boxes of something or another and shrugs.
"The Eagle is still running the show," he says with a jerk of his head to Mac. The Eagle Knight was battered but still stood tall and proud, looking every bit the part of the proud Astartes warrior. "I will wait for his orders, although I am sure the Inquisitor will have something to say."
He picks up the Heavy Bolter and begins walking up and out of the mine as the evil room behind him is reduced to ashes by Bertram.
Bertram nods at Greeth's words once the Salamander was on his feet again. "The Flesh Tearer is right, though the geneseed will need a psychic analyses if it is to be released. Assuming it is pure Raptor." Turning he walked back to the room, grabbing Sam's body on his way. Tossing it in he whispered an ancient oath of cleansing before tossing it in the room. Opening his hand he let loose a torrent of cleansing flame, burning the body to ash and setting objects around the alter aflame as a thin coat of frost spread from his feet. Closing his fist with a shudder he turned and walked back to Kal'vek. "Do not think you are the only one with a grudge, the Alpha Legion owes my chapter and all son's of Corax more then you can imagine." This was the first time Bertram's voice showed any real emotion, taking a hard edge audible even through the vox.
Mac looks out on the city, and growls, "We cannot stay long, our mission has been completed..." He looks down at the ground, and then off to the mid-morning sun.
He turns to the party, "Twelve hours. We have twelve hours to do what we can against the Orks."
He points at Fulrik with his chainsword, "Wolf-brother, tell Steig he has us until nightfall. I want us coordinating with the locals on this venture."
"Hawk," he pointedly looks at Greeth, "I would have the Warbosses head for the skull rack."
To Bertram and Kal'vek, "Raven and Caiman-son, are you ready for a boar hunt?"
Kal'vek gives an affirmative pig call, "soo-whee!"
Fulrik nods and immediately gets on the Vox to get a sit-rep from Steig.
The Inquisitor sighs and looks around at the gods of war. There'd be no stopping this bunch. A smile plays on her lips as she listens to them speak to one another.
"I suppose we could always mention that the rescuing happened quite later on in the day...Alright, well I trust Kal'vek and Bertram to aid you in your fight against the Ork Warboss. I will lend my hand if need be, but I know not to interrupt Astartes when they are on the hunt. You may have my services if you wish to take them."
After a few moments, the vox crackles a bit and Steig's friendly voice comes over the transmission.
"Whew, glad to hear your voice Fulrik, glad to know you boys made it out in one piece from everything that's been going on. The orks have been held in most quadrants of the city, with tidbits of fighting here and there. We are holding our own, but still no sign of the head of this snake. They seem to be stalling for some reason, our best guess being to gather up strength once again. I can send out a few scouting parties to find their leader, with no guarantee of when or if they will return. Meet me back where we originally met and I am sure that by that time I will have something more to give ya. The Emperor Protects, my lords." The vox crackles a bit, Steig waiting for any more questions or comments from the Space Wolf.
"Have you been hit again by any of the Ork forces? Also, what is your current manpower situation? How many men do you have at your disposal - specifically, how many heavy weapons teams? I have a weapon that could be put to cleansing this planet of Orks, but no ammunition currently. We will be en route shortly. The Emperor Protects," Fulrik says bitterly.
"We have had a few skirmishes here and there, but my boys can handle themselves pretty well. Still got the tank if that helps, but running low on heavy weapons munitions at the current moment. Not many of them to begin with, what with being militia and all. We got about the same as before, couple hundred men scattered throughout. Not much more though. Be careful and stay frosty, lords."
Fulrik growls, audibly at Greeth's attempt at humor.
"No, Flesh Tearer. I was leading the charge against the traitors while you were running and diving for cover. Did you get that out o-yer system finally?"
He looks toward the settlement and waits for the rest of the Kill Team to get situated so they could begin moving out.
He looks Greeth over and adds, "You look like shite."
"The orks have much to answer for." Bertram said simply, tilting his head at Kal'vek's noise. "Though I will not risk the tome. Inquisitor, I insist you find the most secure location till we return." The chance to take revenge on the orks for those lost on Targus after frying the Alpha marines was fighting with his sense of duty. He didn't add the Inquisitor's current condition would make her more of a liability then asset to any combat operations. Listening to the Wolf and Tearer bicker he rubbed a hand across his sword's hilt, mouthing a litany of vengeance.
The group set out back the way they came, through the stagnant and dry desert, the sun beating down on their black armor as they step solidly through the sand. It took not time at all before they reached the edge of the city and made their way back in through the gates.
The Inquisitor voices her concerns. "Bertram, forgive me, but without you two by my side, what would be your best advice as to where I should go? I could always stay at the military encampment with the IG militia, I suppose. I believe the Administratum building might be unsafe without the two of you by my side."
She waits for a response from the team before continuing.
Mac grunts in irritation, "We still have a mission. The encampment would be the best place for us to arrange the Inquisitor's safety until extraction. Inform Steig of our impending rendezvous. We're moving out."