Just wondering, did this RP die again, or are we waiting for more people?
PrinceOfShapeir hasn't been online for 11 days according to his profile, I'd guess it's on hold until he's back from whatever's keeping him busy. Hopefully things will start up again soon.
Alright, who's still interested in this? My hiatus is at an end and I'm ready to start this.
And my axe.
Good to have you back.
Alright, excellent. ToxicPiranah, Ultrajoe, just catch up with us if you're still in. I'll have the opening up by the end of today.
The Harbinger of Putrefaction was an ugly ship, if you could really call it a ship. It was a vaguely hammer-shaped craft, a massive chunk of debris with a long spar sticking out of it, the long spar being one of the few craft recognizable as being a ship, in fact it looked almost entirely intact, and was supplying the thrust to the vessel right now. The ship was vaguely needle shaped, a silvery gray spear fifty-one kilometers from bow to stern. The rest of the Hulk was less elegant looking, here and there you could see chunks that looked like the armored bow of an Imperial Navy warship or the delicate, flowing lines of an Eldar cruiser, the graceful beauty marred by the mastication of the ages.
The Thunderhawk carrying the Deathwatch Squad began making its approach on the Hulk, going towards an airlock that looked to have once been part of an Emperor-class Battleship. Within the Thunderhawk, Brother-Sergeant Malchus secured his helmet and readied Calthian's Inferno. "Secure your armor and prepare for battle, Brothers." Although he had already done so a dozen times, he checked the fuel levels within the massive flamer, then waited by the hatch, flexing the fingers of his chainfist. He keyed his voxcaster.
"Vox check. This is Malchus."
One by one the other Marines secured their equipment and returned the check, taking up positions by the hatch. The Thunderhawk slid into the airlock and landed with surprising gentleness for such an ungainly vessel.
"Well flown, pilot. Once we are at a safe distance make your exit, we will inform you when we are ready to leave."
"With me, brothers. For the Emperor!" The hatch dropped open with a clang and Malchus charged out onto the deck, revving his chainfist, his finger twitching on the trigger of his flamer.
There was nothing there. He looked around what was plainly once a hangar deck. Fighters and bombers were scattered here and there, all having been stripped of most of their parts by scavengers. Here and there, deck plating was ripped up, and scattered all over were corpses preserved by the vacuum. Many were Human, but many more plainly were not, their bodies twisted and several having extra limbs.
"On alert, Brothers. There is likely a Genestealer infestation aboard this Hulk."
Malchus began moving forwards, something having caught his eye. A plaque on the wall, coated in dust. He brushed it off, revealing,
The Emperor's Holy Lance of Judgment
For the fury of the Emperor is such that all perish that evoke it.
"This is an unfitting tomb for such a ship. It will be well when this Hulk is destroyed."
A sensor within the Terminator armor began beeping at Malchus. He raised his head and nearly lost it, a set of massive claws scraping along the top of the helmet and leaving deep scratches. Malchus didn't wait to try and see what it was, he activated his chainfist and raised it, parrying the next attack by severing the creature's arm, then followed up with a quick thrust that simultaneously impaled the creature and flung it back against the wall. As it stilled, Malchus' fears were confirmed.
The vacuum rendered everything outside their helmets silent, but all the Marines knew the horror of the Genestealers, and in their minds they could all but feel the chittering, the clinking of the claws on the decking as the Genestealers made their approach. All around them, doors began tearing open and wall panels ripped off, Purestrains crawling out of seemingly everywhere to descend upon the warriors of the Deathwatch.
Baniel had the left flank. It was a position where he was most comfortable, behind the squad but not so far away from the battle that he didn't feel an active part of it. Truth was, he was just as active as every other member of the squad regardless of where he was positioned. Being behind the squad posed no problems with friendly fire for centuries of practice had made such a thing a non-issue, especially in open areas such as the hangar bay. He followed behind the squad closely, never standing side-by-side as if he were a pariah, a ghost watching the squad. He preferred it this way, they did their job and he did his. No one had to interfere, especially because Baniel, and only Baniel, had the left flank.
A few steps into the hangar bay itself, Baniel stepped on a human corpse. He wasn't even sure it was human because all that remained was a collection of various gibs. Upon further investigation it wasn't human, or rather it used to be. The only things that could have more than two arms on a Space Hulk were...
Baniel steadied his aim and selectively fired his concussion missiles onto the left hangar bay doors. There was no point in waiting for the genestealers to claw them down; the sooner they eliminated them the better. They wouldn't all come at once and even if they did, he would be ready whether or not the rest of his squad was. It was Baniel vs the Enemies of the Imperium.
"Left Hangar Doors coming down, concussion missiles launched," Baniel announced over the vox. He thought of it more as talking to himself than making an actual announcement. He only did them because he had found that the rest of the squad, especially the leader, found it annoying when Baniel didn't. As long as he was in his flank, Baniel did not care.
As long as it was Baniel vs the Enemies of the Imperium, he did not care.
Ramziel landed on the metal floor of the ship, hearing the metal thump as the vacuum of space rendered every other noise as loud thumps and scrapes. He looked around, seeing the destroyed mess of fighters, bombers, and eventually the corpses. They were held in the reduced gravity with their innards spilled, limbs cut, and slash marks across their bodies that reminded him of the horrible Tyranids. Still, he was in no mood to reminisce of the past and marched forward with intent on killing whoever set foot on such a holy ship.
He lurched forward, claws ready to rip until he heard a loud scraping, and soon a vox on the comms.
Ramziel's presumptions were confirmed as the Xeno started to tear their way out of the metal hull. A panel near Ramziel was torn free and a Genestealer lunged towards him with a thirst for blood but the Genestealer already made its first mistake. Xeno or not, one doesn't challenge a Black Templar to a melee fight.
He reared his left hand and brought his fingers to make a sharpened point with his claw. The genestealer's lunge was interrupted as Ramziel's claw forced itself down its mouth. Ramziel opened his hand and the creature's head and neck was cut open inside out. Ichor was released into the vacuum and with this foe down, he looked for another.
Ramirez had been waiting for a long time. Waiting for this assignment, waiting for the ship to dock, waiting to obliterate any unholy minions who lay dormant inside this vile spacecraft. To be the last out the gunship and head into a completely still hangar, completely silent, completely dead...
He took to revving his assault cannon. Ensuring the barrels spin freely, ensuring that there will be no jam. Something to occupy his mind while he waited for action, craved it, hungered for it. He was not insane, he had no Blood Angels-like geneseed flaw, he simply had an... Itch...
He mimicked the Black Shield's movements, covering the right hand flank and making sure a Terminator-clad marine was covering all points, allowing the more melee oriented Power armour marines to be free to focus their attentions in the centre of the action.
The whole room began to shiver and wretch and move. As a volley of concussion missiles were sent towards the left hand bay doors, Ramirez took his cue to cover the right side doors, however his attention was immediately taken by two xenos leaping straight towards him from a duct in the roof.
He planted his feet, steadied his body, raised his weapon. The beauty was already spinning at full speed, he loved this assault cannon. The voice of Dorn roared silently into the vaccuum, shuddering the marine's whole body to the core.
Xenos ichor and chitin fragments bounced harmlessly off his armour. Barely a husk remained of the aliens as the high caliber rounds blasted straight through with tremendous force.
"Right hand bay door under the Emperor's holy protection!" he bellowed into his vox while sending short bursts towards any enemy movement. He muttered to himself "Come Xenos, give me a challenge..."
Epistolary Lemaseus followed the hulking terminators into the landing bay of the hulk, reaching out with his mind for any hint of the horrors he hulk would undoubtedly contain. He could sense the chaos of the warp had permeated the hulk, but that proved little, with such corruption being commonplace among derelicts of this nature.
His concentration as interrupted by a cry of "Purestrain Genestealers!", and his focus snapped back to hangar, to see foul xenos converging upon them. His bolt pistol fired as the creatures rushed him and his brothers, but still the creatures came forward, so he raised his mace and leapt to meet the first of the oncoming creatures. "Hate the alien!" he cried, slamming the mace into its chest, "Kill the Alien!" he finished, bringing the mace down upon its head, spikes of psionic energy driving into the creature, ending its life. But this was only the first of many, and he braced himself, gathering his powers to do the work of the Emperor.
Two more rushed Ramziel from an airduct above and he jumped up to meet them. He swiped his left claw at both of them and nothing but blood and gore remained. But a second longer then he would have been dragged into the floor as more Genestealers burst from the floor panels, hungry for human flesh. Ramziel opened fire with his bolter, propelling him towards the airduct. Once he reached it, he planted his feet and pushed downwards towards the Genestealers. He landed on one of the Xenos and his claws decimated the rest.
"Watch your feet, brothers!" Ramziel spoke into the comms, hoping to warn his brothers of the growing threat. The number of Genestealers were growing by the minute but Ramziel didn't fear it but he looked out for his fellow brothers and the more they had, the easier it would be to clear the ship.
Servius held his plasma pistol in one hand and Verum in the other, the blades twin was strapped across his back it's handle in easy reach. He followed the hulking terminator clad forms of his fellow deathwatch brothers. The Genestealers cry that came across the comms set a fire ablaze in Servius's hearts. Pointing the master crafted pistol the champion unleashed a searing beam of plasma energy into the mass of attack aliens. The shot was perfectly aimed, taking 3 genestealers at once. As he advanced into the fray Servius kept up a relentless rain of fire. The light from the searing energy throwing the ghastly shadows of the genestealers across the airlock.
"For the Emperor!" He entoned as he lashed out at a leaping nid with Verum. The energized blade cleanly cutting the alien in half. Without pausing Servius holstered his pistol and drew Pars Virilis the twin to his other blade. The aliens around the Ultramarine were slaughtered as he threw himself into the full frenzy of combat. His blades blurred as he moved faster and faster out moving the Genestealers in a deadly dance.
The ruthless, devastating strength of the Deathwatch rapidly turned the tide against the xeno swarm, as a whole flank of them was quickly turned into a spray of chitin and foul meat by Baniel's missile barrage. Almost as quickly as they had emerged the Genestealers made their retreat, pursued by the fury of the Marines fire as they made their exit out the far side of the hangar bay, pouring through the gaps.
"Hold, brothers!" Malchus raised his hand to them. "Do not pursue. The Genestealers are more clever than they appear, they will lead us into a trap." Malchus was covered in Genestealer ichor up to his shoulder on the arm with the chainfist, while his other was coated in a thick layer of soot.
He glanced around and felt a swell of pride in his breast at the valor and skill of his brothers. In a battle that had lasted perhaps a minute they had slain dozens of the foul Genestealers, each Genestealer alone a deadly threat. "Given that there were dead hybrids here, there are likely more up ahead. And we cannot discount the probability that this Hulk contains a splinter of a Hive Fleet."
Malchus raised his flamer and began to move towards a second exit from the hangar, leading to another section of the ship. "With luck, we can take them from the side. If this path leads further away, though...well, that will allow us to take the element of surprise when we fall upon them again."
Baniel was disappointed they didn't choose his route but the squad leader had a good point, they were likely setting up a trap the clever xenos. Perhaps clever was giving them too much credit, too much respect. They were cunning, and that was that. His death would not be at the hands of the mindless bugs the Tyranids were. He would die against an enemy worthy of dying against, whatever that could be. Baniel followed the squad down the hangar to second exit, Missile Launcher still at the ready. If they were to launch a counter-attack, he would be the first one to know and therefore responsible for such a threat. The rest of the squad had enough to worry about, they didn't need more.
Baniel gave one last look at the door he blasted open and continued walking, reloading his missile launcher while doing so. It seemed safe enough.
Lemaseus followed as the squad advanced deeper into the depths of the space hulk, wary of any trap that the foul xenos dwelling within might attempt. He was confident that any ambush would be foiled by the combined strength of the Deathwatch squad, but taking precautions never hurt.
The path they had chosen was tighter than the hangar, but he was confident that this would be to their benefit, depriving the genestealers, and any other creatures within, of any numerical advantage.