"Lady if may, I sugest we run abandon this planet. Then see if we can come back with more forces" As Jarah said this he knew it would never happen, they would be killed here, the space port would be over-run. He noticed her armour wsa off and looked away blushing.
"We could try to get into the jungles, i have lived on this planet for a long time, we could easily vanish and then regain our strenth".
He looked at the man, who had helped her up, he was a witch. Great, "If we were to stay her the food would only last so long, we could try the sewers, an outlet leads into an river whihc flows out into the jungle, we could all go" Jarah said sadly.

He has hated witches, ever since the insident with the Tyranids, where the witch was with them and on a routine patrol began to scream, writhing on the floor there was in inhuman screach as he dissapered below ground in a flurry of claws.
Jarah ran he legged it, they were wearing pheromone packs they were suposed to hide there smell that phsyker must have been transmitting drawing the attention of the hive mind, he ran sprinting across the tundra there was a scratching of claws behind him, he kept running.
The noise stopped, he did to and then ducked, had he been an average man he would have lost his head, he leveled his lasrifle and squeesed the trigger, the shot hit the beast in the back fo the head it dropped, dead.
Witches were not to be trusted, the were horrid things which preyed on the weaker of mind, he would kill him if he tryed anything, his master seemed at unease with him too, so he would be safe.

"I vote we head to the jungle, via the sewers. Then we could try to find the others"
that pirate in particular he still needed to be seen too.
"So whats the plan?"

Helbart looked spent.
"I was hoping you'd have the plan, Karn. Well, we can't go through door number lasgun - I say we move through the bridge you just burned. I doubt anyone will have stayed in that hellhole, so we'll have a clear run through."
Helbart moved to the door, felt the doorknob. It was still cool. Good sign. He twisted it slowly and crept in, needle pistol raised. Flames were licking all around the spacious room, but there was still a path through. Helbart padded through, slowing only to check his angles. He reached the door at the opposite side, and opened it. To the right were large double doors - the main entrance. To the left, an intersection between two lengthy corridors. The corridor to the left led to what could be a living room, or a waiting room. Closer down that hallway was an open door with a flash of movement through it: it was the bodygloved warrior, leading his charge away. Helbart lost all sense and moved to chase them. As he reached the crossing of the two hallways he was fired upon from further down the other hallway. He dodged back.
"Karn, give me a quick douse down that corridor so we can get after those two!"

Karn nodded. He dashed towards the intersection, but as he hit the corner, he lost his footing, falling out into the line of fire. As he fell, he squeezed his trigger in panic, and luck was with him as he happened to be falling while pointing towards the hostile fire, which had not yet had time to recover from the surprise of a large pirate collapsing into view. Flame engulfed the corridor as Karn's head hit the polished flooring. He blacked out for a second, returning to consciousness, muttering "Ugh, we'll forget that happened shall we?" as Helbart hauled him back to his feet with surprising strength before setting off after their quarry.

Karn attempted to clear his head with a vigorous shake as he took off after the rogue at a sprint. He caught up inside the room the two had dodged into, where Helbart was struggling with a door that looked barred from the outside, and through a window Karn spied the warrior and, just about, a cloaked figuring hurrying towards the trees. "Goin' through!" Karn bellowed, charging towards the door, which cracked and broke under his momentum, leaving his shoulder with a few lovely splinters for the trouble. Karn regained his balance as Helbart hurried though, and the two sprinted after the figures in the distance, Karn grunting "S'not a good day to be us, eh?"

He woke on a cold metal bench, the pain in his left temple throbbing like a jet. He pulled up his hand to feel his head, finding cold metal as he ran his fingers over the substancial dent in his helmet. It was dark, but his visor was down. He slid it up and looked, bleary-eyed at his surroundings. He was lying on a bench, with an unconscious guardsman opposite him, across a grilled walkway beneath then. The ceiling came down in slopes, and a hatch lay in the middle. Directly above him he could see the butt of a Lasgun. A Chimera. He was in a Chimera. He slid of the bench, finding a sharp pain in his right leg, at his thigh. He looked down to find a hastily applied field dressing. He didn't remember that. He shambled over to the door. He plucked his long Las from were it lay, propped up against the wall. He checked his side arm, finding an empty holster. Crap.

He fell onto the door release. It hissed as the pneumatic pistons folded the door downwards, forming a ramp. He could hear the shouting of thousands, and the distant crack of Lasfire. He wandered down the ramp into a courtyard. A motley group of Guardsmen stationed at the palace stood around the gates, staring at it, like it was a dam about to burst. They had no idea how true that was. He saw on stormie checking his hellgun. He suddenly found a lot more respect for his ilk, after that short yet ferocious battle in the square. The lady stood, talking to the other inquisitor. The less mental one. The Eldar freak stood nearby. He limped over. They were discussing escape routes. He thought that right, now they should hold and defend. There had to be more Guardsmen on this planet. And they had to have some air cover as well. There was no way citizens could take them out.

Right now, an airlift would surely be the best option. The Rouge trader must have shuttles. He reached for his comm. He found only the swollen mass of his ear. Feth.

He continued forwards. He heard the talk of sewers. That didn't seem like a good idea at all. Especially if he was minus one side arm; a Long Las wasn't exactly a close combat weapon. He arrived as the Freak asked what their course's of action were.

'We need an airlift. We need to call Helbert'

The lady swung her helmeted head at him. Her voice sounded distorted through the radio. 'I think he is somewhat... preoccupied'

Jessica turned back to the other inquisitor, "I will never abandon a world of the Imperium to the alien and the heretic, although if we become immobile we may hold the palace, but lose the planet."

She eyed the gates thoughtfully, "At the very least we should send a request for reinforcements to our master in orbit and order the 14th Infantry regiment to return and secure the city. This rot runs deep, and the Order of our Martyred Lady is honor-bound to come to my aid when i order it. they could burn this heresy out of the shadows."

"In the meantime, we should try and assist Helbert and the pirate, they are no use to me dead. neither are you corporal."

She plucked a las-pistol from the belt of a nearby guardsman and tossed it to the sniper, "That should do for now, make other arrangements if you must. but do so quickly, we must ensure the palace is secure before we move."

One of her stormtroopers tapped the NCO on the shoulder and offered him his helmet and comn back, then gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder and marched after his mistress, who was now bearing down on the guardsmen with a determined stride.

"No it's not, Karn - but it's looking up."
Helbart sprinted after the two retreating figures, both pistols spitting death at them. His aim wobbled with each step; needles and bullets struck leaves, boughs, the ground and the air. One needle shot even struck the warrior's hip, but the weak projectile pinged off his sleek armour. The warrior turned and raised his massive weapon again.
"Watch out!" Helbart screamed, and dived.
High calibre bolts chugged through the air. Large craters were torn from the ground around Helbart, then the brute turned and followed his companion into the tree line.
Helbart pushed himself to his feet and renewed the chase. He was faster than them; the cloaked figure seemed particularly unsuited to flight, and his guardian was forced to slow his pace. Helbart broke into the forest encircling the house. He only had time enough to wonder what he would do when he caught these two - clearly more dangerous than he - when he was fired upon again. The warrior had clearly realised that running was no longer an option, so had crouched behind a log and waited for his pursuers.
Now would be the final and most vicious chapter of this debacle.

"You had to bloody say it didn't ya?" shouted Karn as he hurled himself into a natural ditch, earth and bark flying overhead. He flipped himself onto his back, watching as bolter streaks whipped through the air, always followed by the full boom as they blew apart unfortunate trees. The ditch was only shallow; sitting up would result in getting his head blown off. He risked raising his head to look at his belt, an arm reaching up to pat around.
"Must be something useful, let there be a grenade. Smoke would do." Karn suddenly paused.
"No smoke without..." he trailed off. No. That would never work. Although his flamer did only spew flammable liquid. If he lowered the pressure... Suddenly cackling, Karn grabbed his flamer, putting out the igniter, and fiddling with its valves. He pointed it skyward, angled towards the source of the gunfire, and squeezed the trigger. Unlit promethium spewed out of the ditch, arcing beautifully before splattering all over the area.

A bolter round exploded.

Whumph

Karn roared with laughter as he stood up to survey he handiwork. "Burn you bodygloved bastard!" he yelled, then paused. He had got him, right? There was no way they hadn't been within the area of destruction, but maybe they'd found a damp spot... he glanced back at Helbart. Well, at least he wasn't on fire.

His question was suddenly answered as the tree behind him exploded, sending them both scuttling for cover.

"Oh for feth's sake!"

Karn, who had been hurrying over to Bosch, nodded. He turned towards the still-smouldering clearing, where he could see the cloaked figure once again on the move. He carefully unslung his burner and dropped it beside Helbart.
"Look after that for me"
And with a bellow he set off, charging through the undergrowth towards the figure roughly a hundred metres ahead, quickly making up the ground between them, the figure requiring time to traverse logs and avoid ditches while Karn just hurdled the logs and jumped the ditches, fuelled by anger and adrenaline. As he neared the figure span and threw something silver. Karn didn't have time to dodge if he wanted to and the blade embedded itself in his shoulder. A glance showed him an elegant handle, too fluid to be human standard. He paid little attention as he yanked the blade out of his shoulder with a growl of pain, disregarding proper medical procedure in his anger.

He took the next log in a bound and hurled himself onto his opponent, his injured arm hanging limply. Something whipped out of the folds of the cloak and struck him. With a grunt he instinctively reacted, punching the creature's head region with his good arm, producing a satisfying crunch and causing it to go limp. The arm that had struck him, now that he had time to examine it, was not human. It was the wrong colour, for a start. Karn grinned.

He stood up, hefting the limp figure over his unstabbed shoulder as he activated his comm.
"This is Rift. Me an' Bosch are at a large house at Saint Celestine's, both injured, him pretty badly. We got a live 'un, looks like a Xeno, will let you lot unwrap 'im and find out what he is. Requesting medical support and extraction. Over."

He reached Bosch, and dropped the unconscious form unceremoniously onto the ground as he grabbed his burner and surveyed his friend, applying pressure to his by now rather bloodied shoulder.
"Got the bugger, though 'e did a number on me arm in the process. Called in for evac, too. How you doing?"

"I think something inside me imploded, but I'm just glad this is all over. Scratch that - almost over."
Bosch relaxed and his eyes glazed to a thousand-yard stare. This particular nightmare should be over soon - and on to the next one.

He plucked the laspistol from the lady's and stuffed it into his holster. He grinned at the stormie. He suddenly had found a lot more respect for them. He heard the big pirate grunt a request for evacuation over his comlink. He wished he could obliged. He strongly wished for air cover, for vultures and valkerines, to come and rain fire on the maniacs hurling abuse and fire bombs at the gate. It wasn't long before they tried to blow it, or force their way in, and this turned into a point blank gun battle. He was used to being surrounded, however, he was a drop trooper. They were supposed to be surrounded.

He surveyed the front of the palace for cover and sniping points. A million windows presented themselves to him. He could certainly discourage them for a while. Blow some heads off, scatter a few. Hold them until the rest of the guard and, emperor granting, air cover. He made for the entrance of the grand palace. As he approached two soldiers armed with pikes and obscenely ceremonial uniforms blocked his way.

'It is forbidden to enter the palace without the governor's express permission.' The first said.
'Oh crap... listen, I'm with the inquisition. Do you know what that means? It means I get to blow your head off if you don't stand aside. Now is not the time for petty tradition and bureaucracy. Let me inside. I need to get a position at the windows. At lot more people are going to be entering without the governor's express position. So let me through, or I will let myself through. Understand?' Jercius found himself pitying these guards.

So mired in tradition, that even with the wolves at the door, they stopped their own saviours at the gate. They seemed to ponder. They stood rigid. Unmoving.

'Move. Now.' Jercius' voice was rising. 'Fething do it'

They remained unmoved.

'MOVE!'

'No-one enters the palace without...'

The guards reply was cut short as a laspistol butt broke his nose and sent him reeling. He stumbled over his own pike and reached for a concealed las. Jercius shot him in the knee. He fell over, gasping. His comrade had tugged his free and was starting to issue an order when Jercius swung his arm, flinging up the pistol and catching it by the barrel; he drove it into the man's jugular. He dropped his gun and fell to his knees, gasping. He got a knee in the face. His metal, frilly helmet clunked onto the stone floor. Jercius stepped over his unmoving form.

'Fething tradition...'

'This is Kasson. We've pulled back to hold the spaceport. The boss was on the horn a moment ago' Kasson said, leaning back against the peeling, charred corpse of his vox-operator and firing his laspistol with his left hand, the mouthpiece held between his shoulder and neck as his right wound a bandage around the reddish-black maw of an autogun wound to his shoulder. 'The naval fighters are unavailable, and we can't put atmospherics down until we've repaired the spaceport. We're on our own, Ladies and Gentlmen. Now' he grunted, giving the bandage one, final tug to ensure it held in place. 'I've got heretics to kill.'

He stooped, lifting his grenade launcher and sighting it out of the warehouse window...

The ship tore out of the confines of the warp into real space well outside of orbital range of Chromos IV. It was the Demetrius, and Imperial Dauntless class Light Cruiser. It propelled itself into a holding position over the world with a great deal of speed, but without any real indication of haste.

Inquisitor Lord Ven Garrus stood on the observation deck of the mighty ship and watched as the world slowly approached him. The place looked peaceful from up here. Then again, they always looked peaceful from up here. One the ground it always a different story. Always.

"So, this is the place, eh?" Garrus turned his head to direct his attention to the source of the comment. It had come from Lucius Rollins, an Ex-Cadian Kasarkin that was wearing a suit of well-worn Carapace Armor. His head was shaven and he had a well-trimmed goatee on his face, which currently had a grin on it. "So it would seem," the Inquisitor responded. His voice, while carrying expression, was oddly metallic and hollow as a result of his trademark helmet. "Those filthy Xenos the Tau aim to capture this world by corrupting it from the inside with their faulty doctrines and false promises. We will make this place a bastion of the Emperor's devotion that cannot be taken by any enemy of Man."

Garrus turned around and put his back to the glass window overlooking space. In the room with him was his retinue, his most trusted agents. In addition to Rollins there was Selene Erris, a psychic untouchable with a heart-shaped face and amber-colored hair. She looked fairly innocent and delicate, but was capable of more than she let on. Closer to the back of the room stood Burre, a Techpriest of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and Krys, a death-cult assassin with raven-colored shoulder length hair clad in tight segmented armor. A tall hunched figure in a black cloak also stood in the room, but it's presence was never acknowledged. Just as well, for it did little more but simply follow anyway.

"Come," Garrus began, "We will go to the bridge to find out what's going on down there so we can form a course of action." He began walking toward the door of the observation room, the end of his heavy leather duster covering his finely crafted Arcifier Armor trailing on the ground. He strode through the corridors of the mighty ship with confidence, his retinue following closely behind. The ship's crewmen were careful to keep their distance from the group as they walked, weary of their very presence. As soon as the assembled group reached the bridge of the Demetrius all hands immediately stood at attention.

With a gesture of his hand as he walked, he motioned them to be at ease. "Captain, can you appraise us of the situation?" Looking up from a data slate in his hand, the ship's captain turned his attention to the faceless Inquisitor in front of him. "The Demetrius is holding just outside of orbital range of the planet. There is a small handful of other Imperial ships above the planet, and as of yet none of them have hailed us to ask our intentions. We've been trying to open a channel with anyone on the surface, but it seems like it's a mess down there. Colonel Drash of the Vostroyan regiment on board has asked me to inform you that his men will be waiting on standby should you want them to land on the planet." Garrus took the data slate into his hand and began reading the report over again. It troubled him that contact with the surface is yet to be made.

"Can you try to open a channel with the surface again, Captain?" The Naval Officer looked the Inquisitor in the eyes, or at least the rectangles painted onto his helmet to act as eyes. "We've been trying, My Lord, but so far there hasn't been..." The captain was cut off in mid-sentence as an Ensign turned around from his console and yelled "Sir, we've made contact with the surface! I've been told that an Inquisitor Trackard is being requested to talk to you." Garrus walked up to the Ensign at the console and pressed a few buttons, putting the open channel on over the bridge's speakers. The entire room immediately fell silent as everyone stopped what they were doing.

"This is Inquisitor Lord Ven Garrus of the Ordo Hereticus. Please identify yourself and appraise me of the current situation."

The reply came almost instantly, "I am High Lady Trackard, Ordo Herticus,the situation is dire, i am under seige inside the governor's palace along with Inquisitor Lars Lykto and only a handful of guardsmen to hold the walls. the people are in open revolt and i have agents isolated and in need of medical attention somewhere in the city. I believe they have acquired.... information on our true enemy."

There was a pause, in which the bridge crew could hear her yelling orders, probably at the guardsmen under her command, then she returned.

"We can hold the Palace for now, but my agents are wounded and at risk, recovering them is vital. May the Emperor Guide your hand."

The voice on the other end of the line sounded stressed and haggered. From the sound of it, the defenders didn't have much time. "I have a guard regiment with me. We'll begin landing in the capital at once. Be sure to spread the word and watch the skies for our arrival. May the Emperor protect you until then."

With those final words, the com channel degraded into static. The signal with Trackard had been lost. Garrus looked around the bridge and carefully studied the worried and panicked expressions of those in the room. "Ensign," he began "can you please open the channel for the ship's PA system?" Quickly and wordlessly, the nervous Ensign pushed a few buttons on his console and handed the Inquisitor a vox horn.

"Attention all hands, this is Inquisitor Garrus. We are currently over the planet of Chromos IV, a planet now in open revolt in defiance of the God Emperor. As I speak heretical minds are plotting this world's downfall and they have pushed what few defenders there are to the very brink. Your countrymen are down there, praying to the Emperor for salvation. You are that salvation! We will descend onto this world and purge the traitors from it's very surface to show them that no one is exempt from His judgment! They will learn this day that the Imperium does not bow down in the face of it's enemies! They will learn this day that we are the servants of the God Emperor, and we are not afraid!"

His speech done, Garrus handed the horn back to the Ensign. "Captain, I want the Vostroyans ready for an orbital landing as soon as possible." The Inquisitor didn't wait for a response, as he was already exiting the bridge with his retinue with the intent of deploying alongside the guardsman several decks below.

The atmosphere on the muster deck was one of chaos. An entire Vostroyan Firstborn 42nd regiment was assembling into their respective platoons and were boarding their landing crafts. Even in the close confines of the muster deck the guardsmen were careful to keep their distance from the Inquisitor and his associates. As they walked through the crowd, Garrus finally found Colonel Drash. Upon seeing the Inquisitor, Drash turned his attention away from his officers. "My lord, we're ready for a combat drop into the capital city. Our reports from the surface say that a large heretic mob is attacking the Governor's Palace. We can land and deploy farther into the city behind them. We'll have the element of surprise and we'll have them trapped against the Palace walls." With a quick nod of agreement, Garrus spoke. "It's a good plan, Colonel. I need a ride down to the surface with your men. Inquisitor Trackard has agents stranded in the city and I plan on finding them. While I'm busy with that the mob is all yours. Don't kill anyone unless they force you to."

With those parting words, Ven Garrus and company strode onto a nearby troop lander and sat down in the remaining empty seats. As soon as he was situated and strapped in, the door to the dropship raised up and closed. Under his breath Garrus began to utter a prayer of protection to the Emperor. The landing on Chromos IV was beginning, and odds are that is was going to get bloody.

"By the Emperor, we will hold" replied Kasson. "Consider the Spaceport secure. All the defence guns have been knocked out, and all the PDF fighters are scrap. No Xenos personel or equipment sighted. No daemonic influcence apparant. Death Korps detachment out"

The ride down was abrupt. Rapid deployment with a decent pilot did that. As soon as the lander was in range Garrus brought up the Imperial local channel. Some of the chatter was frantic and incomprehensible, but amidst it he was able to catch a few precious morsels of information. There was a report from a Death Corps officer who's name he didn't catch. It sounded bad. No defensive emplacements, no air support. The Spaceport was being held, which was good. Ferrying armor and supplies down from the Demetrius will be much easier thanks to their efforts. He'd have to commend that officer later on when he finally met him.

As of yet, there has been no reported Tau presence.

Garrus also caught another message. It was garbled and hard to understand, partly from the connection as well as the speaker's rough accent. He picked up a few things. The man called himself Rift. Something about medical assistance. Celestine's Way. Xeno. It had to be Trackard's missing agents, but what did it mean?

The bumpy ride came to a very sudden and abrupt halt. Everyone was violently shaken in their seats and harnesses as all feeling of movement outside seemed to stop. They had made planetfall. The ramp on the lander unlatched from the ship's hull and noisily fell onto the ground outside. With practiced movements the Vostroyans on board unlatched their harnesses and charged out of the lander, assembling with their brethren outside. In complete contrast to their sense of urgency, Garrus calmly rose from his seat and strode out of the lander with his accomplices close behind.

They had landed in a city square of some sort with close to a dozen other landers. Looking up at the night sky Garrus could see the lights and engines of other drop ships descending from orbit looking for a place to drop off their tenants. The guardsman around him were assembling into their platoons and squads and began to run down the streets and alleyways in the direction of the Governor's Palace, carrying equipment and un-deployed weapons emplacements with them. These men were experts at urban combat. Every last movement movement and tactic was done with a purpose. He would let Colonel Drash take on the mob. He was more concerned with finding these stranded agents of Trackard's and seeing what this evidence they found really was.

"You, Sergeant!" Ven Garrus's distinct metallic voice boomed as he pointed the finger of a white gauntlet-clad hand at a nearby Vostroyan officer. "Your platoon is with me. Let's move!" He didn't hear his reply of confirmation over the commotion of the assembling troops, but he did see the Sergeant's gestures that got the point across. With a motion of his hand, Garrus instructed the platoon's vox officer to come over to him. Taking the vox horn from his caster, he tuned the set to the local channel. "This is Inquisitor Garrus. We are on the ground and are moving in towards the palace. Any stranded Imperial personal in need of assistance need to respond."

With that being said, Inquisitor Lord Ven Garrus turned toward the assembled guardsmen and drew his Force Sword, raising it in the air above him. "Praise be the Emperor and strike down his foes!" Turning on his heel, he put his back to them and pointed his sword at the empty street in front of him. "Forward!"

They ran down the street. They ran towards the Palace. They ran towards their countrymen. They ran towards those that wished them harm.

Karn was sitting on a log, beginning to feel light headed, when a voice crackled on comms. He nearly fell of his log as he jumped, but managed to recover and tried to cover the movement with a cough. He hoped Bosch hadn't noticed.

Activating his comm, he replied. "Garrus Sir, this is Karn Rift and Helbart Bosch. We're stranded at St Celestine's and in... need of medical support and extraction. No immediate enemy presence but we 'ave a captive an' we got a few bumps and bruises. We set a few things on fire securing this Xeno, jus' follow the smoke."

He glanced at his arm, it was drenched in blood. Maybe it was a bit worse that he thought.

"Feel free to hurry boss."

Bosch heard the exchange and suddenly felt much safer. He looked around conspiratorially and then gestured to Rift to come closer. He pulled two thin tubes out of his jacket pocket.
"These, Mr Rift, are the finest stogies in the sector. From Tenebar IV. Mannheim's. They're worth more than their weight in gold: it cost me my cut of a good haul to get fifty of these things - and from a man whose life I saved the day before! I always keep two in my pocket for celebrations. I'd say surviving this day is worth a celebration."
He gave one to Rift and produced two matches. He lit his and puffed deeply.
"Ahhhh."

Karn lifted the cigar to his eye, a reverent look on his face.
"Sod this rescue bloke, you're my new favourite person Bosch."
He grinned, taking the second match and lighting his own. He put it in his mouth and scratched his head with his good arm, sighing with satisfaction.
"I suspect that fire and burning just makes things better. Flamer, very good. Enemies? Set em on fire, no longer a problem! House? Makes it much warmer. And plants. Roll 'em up, set em on fire, and you get one of these babies."
He took another puff.
"Better than Promethium."

They had reached Celestine's Way. For a while the assembled group was following the signs of the city streets, but the smoke rising from the roaring flames acted as a obvious enough indicator that they weren't necessary anymore.

The fifty man Vostroyan platoon rushed into the smoldering clearing, weapons raised with the intent to kill. It wasn't needed. Whatever fighting that was meant to take place here has already come to it's end. As the guardsmen fanned out, Ven Garrus surveyed the scene. The property, obviously belonging to a citizen of great stature, was in ruins. The manor was burning from within with several very large holes from the firefight that had taken place here. A small part of the clearing outside the house itself was also ablaze. Whoever did this was sloppy and overzealous, but they got the job done.

"Sir, survivors!" The call came from a guardsman near the edge of the burning clearing. In addition to the easily recognizable Vostroyans there were three figures, none of them looking like they were in particularly good shape. Field medics attached to the platoon were already there tending to their wounds. With his associates following closely behind, Garrus came to greet the two agents.

Crouching down in front of a gruff looking man with a wounded arm, Garrus extended a hand and spoke. "Ven Garrus. Nice to meet you." The conversation was interrupted before it could truly even begin as the voice of Colonel Drash crackled over the vox. "Lord Inquisitor, my men are in position behind the mob. Orders?" He didn't respond, not at first. His black and white helmet turned away from the wounded agent as he fixed his gaze at the ground, as if deep in thought. The moment that passed was brief, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime.

"Judge them in the name of the Emperor, colonel. Judge them all." After a pause Drash responded to confirm his orders. Moments later the sky in the direction of the Governor's Palace lit up. Massive volleys of unnumbered lasguns and heavy bolters all melded together into one massive roar. The fighting had begun.

"So." Ven turned his gaze back to the agent. "There are close to 12,000 soldiers of the Imperium unleashing His divine wraith on the populace of this world. Would you care to enlighten me as to how the situation on this planet degraded to the point where this was necessary?"

Helbart's wounds were being tended by a not too gentle field medic. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out - something inside was surely wrong, and this corpsman was no gentle, buxom nurse. On the bright side, perhaps this injury would put him out of commission for the rest of this planetary witch hunt. Karn seemed fine - his wound would be nothing worse than sore in a few days.
Helbart met the gaze of the Lord Inquisitor.
"The official report will be that a citizen mob was whipped into traitorous rebellion by ringleaders supposedly working under the direction of xenos."

This one didn't look so bad, for an imperial high-ranker. Karn nodded as another medic applied something to his arm and bandaged it up, muttering something about it healing easy due to being a clean cut.
"Aye. The group turned vicious damn quick, we didn't have the time or force to pacify 'em. Helbart here followed one of their men to this place, where we figure we met some of their ringleaders. Pretty well equipped for yer standard rebels, big bugger with a bodyglove and a bolt pistol for a start. An', more interestingly," Karn stood up, ignoring the medic, and walked over to the cloaked figure on the ground.
"We found this guy. Still alive, too, ain't I great? Whatever he is, he ain't human. I didn't look too close, figured unwrapping 'im would be your job. He threw this at me."
He fished out the blade from his pocket and handed it to Garrus.
"What do you think?"

"Oh, and I'm Karn Rift, and that one over there is Helbart Bosch." he shook Garrus' proffered hand, frowning as he noticed Helbart wasn't looking too good.

Garrus took the blood-tipped blade that Karn offered and tossed it over to Burre. With great analytical interest, the Techpriest took the weapon into his mechanical hand and looked at it closely. After a brief moment he spoke in a voice that was far more machine than man. "The weapon is of xenogen origin, My Lord. The symbolism on the hilt is of Tau design. This weapon is most likely intended to be ceremonial, as the Tau have particularly poor close combat skills and prefer ranged combat." With a brief nod of conformation Garrus turned his attention to the figure in the robe laying on the ground. He crouched down and carefully lifted the hood off of the figure's head.

Grayish-blue skin. Flat face. An indentation going down from the forehead to where it's nose should have been. There was no doubt about it, it was a Tau. Probably a member of the Water Caste making deals under the table, but with who?

"Garrus, you should come look at this." The cry came from Rollins, who was standing a few feet away examining another body. Getting up off the ground he pointed at Krys and then at the xeno on the ground. "This creature does not leave your sight. Understood?" With a coy smile and the bangs of her hair covering half of her face the Death Cult assassin nodded and placed a hand on the handle of one of her swords.

With Selene and Burre tagging behind him, Ven Garrus walked over to his agent and the body he was taking interest in. "What's wrong with this picture, boss?" Rollins pointed at the body on the ground. "Doesn't this guy look a little too well equipped to be your run-of-the mill rioter?" He had a very good point. This man was a guard for the meeting that was taking place. He was wearing a flak vest under his coat and still had a las pistol in a holster at his thigh. Next to the body was an autorifle. Garrus checked the clip and found high caliber armor piercing rounds. "This is all Imperial issue equipment," Garrus observed. "Hell, the Minitorium stamp is still on this rifle. They didn't even bother to file it off." Garrus unholstered the pistol from the dead man's thigh and looked at it closely. There was still a Minitorium stamp and an Imperial Aquila on the gun. The metal was still shiny without any blemishes. This weapon wasn't picked up second hand, it was newly manufactured.

The masked Inquisitor stood up and pocked the pistol as evidence. The gunfire at the Palace had died down. What was left of the mob was scattering out of fear and running back into the streets, or at least he hoped that was why it stopped. It was more likely that the mob finally broke through the Palace gate and the Vostroyans hadn't advanced to engage them yet. Either way, they couldn't stay here any longer. "Team, let's get a move on. We're headed towards the Governor's Palace. Someone help Bosch on his feet so we can get moving." With that order being said, guardsman started scrambling back into formation. One of the field medics was helping the wounded Rouge Trader to his feet. "Krys, bring the prisoner with us." The assassin nodded and then flung the unconscious xeno over her shoulder. Looking around at the group, Garrus spotted the fifth member of his retinue. The tall slouching form in the black robe simply stood and stared at the ground, nervously swaying back and forth. Whatever the figure was, it was clearly making everyone around it nervous and uneasy. "Selene," the Inquisitor began as he gestured toward the cloaked figure, "Make sure he doesn't stray too far. I may need him later."

The grounds of the governor's palace were almost unrecognizable, the ornate fountains and flowerbeds were now bunkers and trenches, the soil now piled up around the chimera to cover it's weakened frontal armor from anymore grenades or heavy impacts.

Jessica was laid up with her staff beside the tank on the highground before the palace entrance, their weapons ready and pointed towards the gate at the far side of the courtyard, as were the lasguns, auto rifles, and heavy bolters of the nervous palace guard, their ceremonial Armour now mud-stained and filthy after assisting their PDF brethren in fortifying the area. Lady Jessica had made sure that any disagreement remained unvoiced. She would have prefered to be on the walls themselves, but she simply didn't have enough men to cover all of it.

The inquisitor lady threw aside the vox-mic she had been speaking into moments before and cursed inside the safety of her helmet, she knew that the vox-operator had worked miracles to make this squad level set reach orbit, but her frustration at being cut off just as she made contact with reinforcements would not be abated so easily. she had no idea if her message had even got through.

"the Emperor protects, mistress." her scribe muttered, sensing his mistress's unease, Jessica nodded.

"I know." she replied

Suddenly, the finely carved stonework of the gate way exploded inwards in a flash of blue light and the mob was through, firing from the hip as they ran towards the exhausted Imperials.

The Loyalist returned fire, their pre-ranged shots tore holes into the charging mob. but there were too few of them, and the mass of heretics were gaining ground, heedless of their losses in their desire to kill.
Lady Jessica raised her pistol and fired, watching the single shot rip through three men before exploding like a grenade inside a forth, while behind her the vox-operator was yelling into his mic that the walls had been breached before abullet blew his face off.

"sniper on the walls!" a guardsman yelled, before another high-power shot tore through his chest and he fell backwards onto one of Jessica's storm troopers. he was pushed gently aside.

"Supress that shooter!" Jessica ordered, drawing her hammer as the chimera sprayed the walls with it's multi-laser, and the crowd drew even closer.

"For Ferosia and the Emperor!' she bellowed and charged down the marble steps with her bodyguards beside her.

The Long Las cracked as the sniper fell backwards, a smoking crater in his chest. He disappeared over the wall, collapsing a lump of flailing limbs and smoke. Jercius ducked and ran, reloading as he went. He slammed a low power pack into the housing with a click and came up by a smashed window. He gazed down his scope at the charging mob. He fired three times, and three heads disappeared in a puff of red smoke. He ducked and scooted once again, as high calibre rounds tore the ornate panelling behind him to jagged splinters. The concentrated mass of fire on the gate was immense, but yet they were breaking through, as the clambered over walls and over corpses. It would appear they had nowhere else to go, as the Vostroyans closed in behind them. They had to hold. He glanced a sniper. Nestled on a wall, no-one could see him. He had a bead on the 'Lady. The frigid bitch. He could let her die now from a perfect kill-shot, and be rid of her and her zealously.

A las cracked. A head vaporised, and a corpse slumped to the ground. Weapons clattered across the floor, as the rebel broke upon contact with a statue, twisting in ways life could not sustain. He grimaced. What an opportunity...

It went bright and loud quickly, and Jercius found himself on the floor, looking up at the bottom of an Armchair worth more than what he had earned in his lifetime. Broken glass and splinters were everywhere, and a large hole had appeared in the wall. He suddenly became aware of a sharp pain. He found a six inch splinter between his armour plates, imbedded in his flesh. He groaned. He pulled himself up, wincing as hot blood flowed down his side, under his clothing and then through it. He collected his rifle. The blast had blown a nail into the scope. He tore it off and threw it aside. He really needed a new one now. He brushed powdered glass off the Long Las. He glanced over the wall. A volley of rocket propelled grenades had blown the defenders into disarray, and the rebels were swarming in. He saw several charge in through a newly-opened doorway below him. He took aim but fell back, gasping. He could no longer hold himself that way. Fresh blood flowed down him. He let his rifle clatter to the floor. For the first time in many years, it was useless. He drew his newly-found sidearm, and clicked te safety off. Leaning against a thick pillar for support and cover, he raised his left arm and took aim at the stairwell.

This was gonna go bad.