Ansgar hated flying, there was nothing he could do while in transit. Doubly so considering the Thunderhawk they were in, in question, wasn't even armed. He had been mildly surprised to see an unarmed Thunderhawk when boarding the craft, considering the things were weapons as much as ships, as far as he had been aware. Then again, his experience with anything not based on the ground was extremely limited, and anything outside what was loaned to the Guard itself was even more limited in knowledge. Pretty much, he recognized the Thunderhawk and that was it, anything specification wise was beyond him. But a military craft that was unarmed was strange to the Krieger. Thinking on the flaws of the current craft he was on was not doing him any favors, considering he did not appreciate aerial craft to begin with. Sister Aviza mentioned being strapped in due to the expected lack of smoothness in the landing or descent, for that matter. Lovely, thankfully the ever present rebreather mask he wore at all times, no one would be able to make out his expression of distaste with the statement, rather, all that was visible was the ever omni present lack of expression, grim as it was. "Understood ma'am, harness and kit remain secured."

It was about the time that the power and, with it, the lights cut out that prompted Ansgar to sigh quietly. This, this was why he hated flying. One thing goes wrong, you cannot just get out and march the rest of the way, unless you could fly he supposed. Which he doubted anyone, barring perhaps the Psyker, present here could do. Which meant they were completely in the hands of the Emperor now, and whether they would die or not was firmly out of their hands. Not a comfortable position to be in, and most experienced enough soldiers could likely agree with the sentiment. However, beyond a firmer grip on his gear, nothing overtly changed with the Krieger. He really could not do anything about the situation, as much as he would rather be able to do something at all, so he resisted the urge to break his professionalism regarding the situation at hand. Keeping an ear on the Sister as she spoke on the given situation, bracing the moment before actual contact with the ground happened. There was no sense closing his eyes, it wouldn't help if they were doomed anyways, but he kept looking straight ahead as they finally came to a halt.

"Still in one piece, ma'am." Ansgar had gotten the harness keeping him in place off and was on his feet, checking over his gear. Type XIV Heavy, functional and undamaged. Explosives, at a glance, looked fine, none of them were sensitive enough to warrant concern due to the rocky landing. Nothing was missing otherwise, seemed like everything was in order then. Good, the Krieger thought as he followed the Sister out of the crashed Thunderhawk as she dispatched orders. Taurox Primes, they were not popular with siege regiments too much, the Primes mostly were the territory of proper Stormtroopers, not regimental Grenadiers. However, they were faster and heavier armed than average Chimeras. Problem being, of course, was the minor fact they were more fragile and, therefor, more interesting targets for hostile forces. Either way, there was little that could be done to fix the problem, so he began the march for the twin linked autocannon Taurox once the rest of the group was moving, sweeping their surroundings constantly for trouble. "I'll take the gunner's spot upon arrival at the Prime, make sure the weapon systems are not damaged beyond repair." Benefits of being an Engineer prior to assignment to the Death Korp Grenadiers, was a familiarity with a wide range of equipment employed by the Guard. Which meant it was also easier to tell when something was broken or about to break, and how to quietly patch things up to prevent it from breaking down, even though the Cogboys hated that kind of tinkering and quick patch jobs.

Well this wasn't the most favorite type of activity. She generally had bad memories of planet entries, including the one where they had eldar raiders on their tails the entire time her transport was crash landed. That didn't leave a good memory, but this rocking craft without any weapons reminded her of the old day to a point. She just waited patiently in her seat, strapped with the belts for protection, waiting for them to land.

“You must be damned kidding me.” She mumbled as the Thunderhawk lost power. Did they get hit by a lightning strike that fried the electronics!? The warp, did this craft doesn't have protection against such things?! 'I still have that bottle of brandy... I must finish drinking...' She thought as the craft was heading ever so closer to the surface. It was a small thing, but hey for her it was important! It took forever to find proper alcohol!

Then the impact came and the impact ended. Everything in her head was spinning and it took her a good few moments to gather her bearings, struggling to get up and head to the exit of the transport. She could hear the rain hitting the hull.” Still here...” She stated, unbuckling the belts and pulling her small case of tools with her. She took it just in case she had to repair anything and judging by the landing, she was going to have to repair a lot of things by the end of this mission.

“Roger...” She mumbled when she was told her group, making note of their transport.” We are lucky it's raining...” Vala stated quietly, just stretching her right arm a little to get rid of the numbness it had from the impact earlier.

“I will check up the engine of the Taurox... this kind of landing could cause leaky fuel connections or other small damages that could be catastrophic... Don't want to have a disconnected pipe or something that starts spilling fluids and renders the vehicle useless after some use...” She stated as they were moving.

His head covered with his Arbites helm, only his near constant scowl could be seen. As a Judge, he was used to riding and piloting various types of vehicles in his relatively long career. However, flying happened rarely, and he had never ridden in a Thunderhawk before. He was not overly fond of the ride, and though he did not complain, he growled when he heard they were in for a rough landing on the mountains.

"Emperor's Mercy," he complained, and held on as they hurtled towards the planet and skidded across the ground like a thrown civilian. Herold gritted his teeth and held on with all of his considerable strength, though he bucked and jarred until they completely stopped. He thanked his patron God when he realized the Thunderhawk remained in one piece, at least for now.

He stood up rigidly, and despite the hair-raising landing, moved methodically as if it was all routine. He collected his weapons and met the Sororitas when they were all prepared. He was ready to get out of here to say the least, mostly because of the capacity for an explosion from the Thunderhawk.

"Ma'am," he acknowledged, and hefted his Combat Shotgun as he advanced towards the Taurox, fully intending to man the Hunter Killer Launcher. However, if his co-pilot did not have experience driving a Taurox, he supposed he would need to. He'd always had a calm and steady hand in tense situations. Then again, that might be what was best for the weapon of large destruction they would be driving around. "Drive or fire?" he asked Adrianne as he marched.

Sitting in one of the heavy seats of the darkened and grimy interior of the Thunderhawk would be a towering, ominous figure; clad in a loose set of gothic plate armor and tattered cloak above a dark brown bodyglove. It occasionally stared across the insides of the Thunderhawk at the other passengers through the grim skeletal skull that adorned the front side of its helmet; a dim, purple light barely visible at the center of its hallow, dark sockets.

There were two other skulls were positioned on either side of the figure, currently attached to a duo of sockets in the Thunderhawk's interior. They were a pair of dormant servo skulls, easily confused as part of the interior in their deactivated state.

Yet, behind the grim facade of the mask, Adrianne felt borderline giddy, and barely able to contain her excitement as they were headed towards the planet's surface! The Psyker had always enjoyed the thrill of the flight! Although she would much have preferred to be in the pilot seat, she still enjoyed the sense of weightlessness and feeling being shifted in random directions as they flew through the storm, the heavy metal Thunderhawk being thrown haphazardly in random directions by the storm!

"Do not fear,"

Adrianne finally spoke, her voice sounding robotic through the skeletal mask as she looked out across the other passengers in the Thunderhawk.

"I have foreseen our safe arrival on the planet's surface. The tides of woe will not greet us until our boots are firmly on the ground!"

Although she initially felt a little quizzical at how the other passengers were feeling so uncomfortable at flying into a violent storm with little to no visual of what was happening on the outside, the Psyker eventually supposed that their inability to foresee their own safe landing might explain their discomfort!

Either way, it provided a small bit of amusement on their way to the surface.

The landing was rough, but Adrianne; being firmly strapped into her seat; only experienced a light bounce as they landed! Although the padding of her seat was only minimal, one of the benefits of being more than just skin and bone was that her own butt made up for some of the lackluster design, and the whole experience could be borderline described as a comfortable landing! ... if you already knew you weren't going to immediately die, that was.

"Do not use the weapon without my clearance, we are to remain hidden for the time being and meet up with the Imperial Guardsmen

"Whaaat? I wasn't going to!" Adrianne complained, already sounding a little accused by the remark as she unbuckled herself and got out of her seat. With a faint whirr, the empty eye sockets of the servo-skulls behind her suddenly lit up with two pairs of haunting, red lights; as the two servo-skulls detached themselves from their sockets and began to float around the Thunderhawk's interior as they accompanied the Psyker out; their long, robotic spines hanging and floating behind them in an almost snake-like fashion through the air!

Walking outside, Adrianne could immediately feel the droplets of rain fall on her helmet and armor. Due to the heavy storm, it was difficult to see very far, the wind, rain and darkness obscuring much of her view.

However, as the servo-skulls came out the Thunderhawk, she could see her own vision through the visors of her helmet become enhanced as the servo-skulls own pict sensors became synchronized with Adrianne's suit, giving her a slightly more digital rendering of areas of her vision that were otherwise obscured or darkened by the storm.

"Drive or fire?"

"Oohhhh!"

Adrianne's senses suddenly jumped to at the line of questioning, barely able to quiet her own little gasp as she looked back down at Herold, and she already knew the answer!

"I'll drive, you shoot, Arbites! Given we're in Greenskin territory, I imagine the number of traffic laws to have been dramatically reduced anyway!"

She said, as the Psyker's pace suddenly dramatically quickened; Adrianne now traversing across the ground in long, purposeful strides that might almost forced Herold to run in order to keep up! And the reason for this? Adrianne almost never got to drive! If she got the chance, there was no chance in the warp that Adrianne would let it go, as she hurried towards the location of the Taurox, her long, white ponytail flowing over her tattered cloak behind her as she marched with rapid succession!

Their Taurox had fared not quite as well as that of Aviza's own, one of the wheels being halfway buried in the mud as the whole vehicle was slightly tilted!

Adrianne, unwilling to waste a single second, suddenly grasped forward; the air around her suddenly growing tense for a moment; before violently pulling her arm back, using her powers to give the large, armored vehicle a tug that was enough to pull the tire out of the hole and right the vehicle!

"This is Dark Raven, we have located our vehicle and are preparing to mount up, over!" Adrianne spoke through the vox box built into her helmet as she pulled the heavily plated door of the Taurox aside and nearly jumped into the driver's seat, motioning for Herold to quickly follow.

The servo skulls on the other hand snaked around the vehicle, each of them finding a spot on the Taurox's exterior where they latched themselves onto the vehicle, where they could maintain a better overwatch than from the limited and cramped confines of the vehicle's interior!

" - lead the way, we,- hurry up Herold! ,- we'll follow right behind, out!" She continued speaking as her fingers clutched the steering wheel, a clear tone of excitement audible in her voice!

The windswept, some would say inhospitable, plains of Chogoris – known in Imperial records and to off-worlders as 'Mundus Planus' – stretched out before him as far as the eye could see. Livestock of varying types, some as small as goats and others in the form of majestic but stubby Chogorian ponies, were being rounded up all around him by whooping horsemen in their hide breeches and fur-bordered hats, men and women using lassos to ensnare the wild creatures; after their capture, they would be used to breed and multiply the population of four-legged animals that outnumbered human presence on the steppes.

Beyond the grasslands, this close to the boundary between the so-called Empty Lands and what had once been the Palatine's empire before the heresy of the Warmaster, mountains soared upward until their peaks touched the sky.

A sky so blue, so clear, a cloudless and never ending sky that went on forever...and those mountains...mountains...mountains...

Nergüi snapped out of his revere with a sharp snapping up of his head within the interior of his beaked helmet, flashing HUD runes illuminating almost everything within the Thunderhawks interior, feeding back to him all the information that he would need to both heal and to kill those around him; luckily for him and his modest pride, as far as they were aware, he had been watching them all the entire time.

So, it appeared that they would be making a hasty landing then! This would not be his first 'hard landing' after all, for he was as used to the gunship around them as he was to his own body – far from causing any sort of apprehension within him, the fact that they were possibly going to die thrilled him. Within his veins was the blood of a hunter, as with all Chogoris nomads, his twin hearts beginning to pump faster and his fists the size of a man’s head clenching there fingers as Celestian Aviza (skilfully for one not trained in the piloting of a Thunderhawk, or so he assumed) yanked on the joystick and levelled them out.

At least they wouldn't be dying.

"I have foreseen our safe arrival on the planet's surface. The tides of woe will not greet us until our boots are firmly on the ground!"

Valenthin, Adrianne, flashed the Gothic runes orbiting the frankly oversized feminine frame, twenty-four standard Terran years, Sanctioned Psyker. The runes continued to list off some of her more notable achievements and actions, being very impressive for a girl of her comparatively few years in existence.

Unlike some, from what he had observed of psyker-human interaction in the past, he felt not hostility toward her, and was even oddly comforted by her prediction. The White Scars had their own holy men upon the plains before even undergoing Astartes enhancement, these Stormseers being the very figures that chose Neophytes from the tribes, as well as the Chapters ferocious variation to most Chapters' librarians.

Ignoring the impact of the Thunderhawk striking the ground, one hand pressing the release catch upon his drop-throne while the other pushed him into a standing position, he listened intently to the orders of his current superior – the Deathwatch having released him to this party due to his medical expertise on all manner of life, from transhuman Astartes to the smallest mortal child.

Hunter-killer Taurox Prime, confirmed.

Before he could make his way out of the gunship, the psyker and member of the Adeptus Arbites, his jaw set grimly beneath his helmet, were already heading toward the Militarum APC with a swift pace.

Some may say that he, a member of possibly the most mobile Astartes formation in the galaxy, should have been given the drivers seat of the Taurox Variant. Some may believe that a superhuman raised on a planet of horse-lords and mounted civilisation may have been a better choice. Truth be told, Nergüi gave a small grunt as he heaved one of the side doors open and slipped inside the vehicles interior, the space made for members of the Guard and therefore causing him to squat within the restricted confines.

“Apothecary Nergüi secure, let us proceed.”

While waiting patiently for her squad to take their seats inside of the Taurox Primes each of them had been assigned to, Aviza checked over the internal systems of the armored personnel carrier she had chosen. From what information she could gather, the Taurox Primes had weathered the crash very well, they would at least make it to their destination in one piece. Actually bringing them into combat was a whole other matter though, and part of Aviza hoped that they wouldn't have to.

As soon as the last member of her squad informed her that he had taken his seat inside of the rear Taurox Prime, Aviza pressed her left foot down against the vehicle's accelerator. For a moment nothing happened, then the APC lurched forward, breaking free from the mud and earth it had dug itself into. For such a strange looking vehicle, it held quite a bit of power behind it and had a number of other tricks it could put to use if the circumstances called for them.

The journey from the mountain range to the massive forge city in the distance would be a short one, due in part to how 90% of Tarson was covered in some sort of industrial complex. This gave Aviza just enough time to make contact with the Imperial Guardsmen who were hopefully still alive somewhere inside of the city. Her first request to make contact with any Imperial forces upon the channel of her vox failed to produce any reply, though the second attempt proved successful. "This is Ophelian Celestian Aviza Norea of the Order of the Argent Shroud, requesting to speak with whoever is currently leading the remaining Imperial forces upon Tarson." The sound of someone trying to make contact could be heard, though static and interference made it almost impossible to hear what they were saying.

"This is First Lieutenant Nova of the Imperial Guardsmen upon Tarson, I am currently in charge of all the remaining forces upon the Forge, all other higher ranking men are dead or missing in action." The voice of a female came from the vox inside of everyone's helmets or earpiece. "I was not expecting reinforcements in such a short amount of time. If you approach from the south western edge of the city, you should be able to bypass the Orks for the time being and reach our position." Aviza was quick to change her course and was now heading towards the South Western entrance of the city. "We will arrive shortly, keep an eye out for us and be ready to open the gates as we arrive." The voice of Nova came back once more, "As you wish, I will be in the headquarters awaiting your arrival, apologies I cannot meet you myself at the gate."

Within a few moments, the Taurox Primes would arrive at the large metal gates. Above them were heavy bolter turrets that had been apparently moved from elsewhere to ensure that the forces inside would not be flanked. Aviza carefully drove the APC through the gates and once everyone was inside, they would shut behind them. A number of Guardsmen would run past the vehicles and immediately move to the cargo crates behind towed behind them. The contents inside of them would be found invaluable to the resource starved and short manned Imperial Guardsmen that somehow still held off the Ork forces.

Aviza turned off the Taurox Prime and stepped out of it, the sounds, smells and sights of war surrounding them instantly. A couple Imperial Guardsmen stopped what they were doing to look at the newcomers, a look of relief spreading across their worn out faces. The one sight that threw them off the most was the sight of Apothecary Nergüi, there were countless wounded and his services were greatly needed.

The large Imperial complex that stood in front of them was heavily reinforced and guarded, stretching out for miles in every direction. It was no doubt the main facility for security upon the planet. A younger looking Imperial Guardsmen who looked as if he had been awake for days on end, quickly moved to Aviza and saluted. "Ma'am! I was ordered to bring you and your squad to First Lieutenant Nova, please follow me." The man quickly turned and started to walk into the facility. Aviza was quick to follow, motioning for her squad to follow her. It only took a moment for the Guardsmen to show them to Lt.

Nova who was bent over a large holographic screen that showed a large number of information about the planet and everything going on around them. "Thank you for coming to help us, we could really use your help." Lt.Nova glanced up at Aviza then her eyes moved to Apothecary Nergüi then to the rest of the squad. "If you do not mind, I need to put each of you to work immediately, once those tasks are done we can regroup here and discuss the larger issue at hand." She would bring up a map of the facility and start pointing at a number of areas informing them of the issue that needed to be handled in each area.

"I need someone medically trained to handle injuries in the infirmary, we have many wounded who need the assistance immediately."

"After an artillery strike from the Orks using our own weapons, part of our facility has gone into lockdock and we are unable to reach the supplies behind a bulkhead door. I need someone with knowledge in engineering to override the bulkhead door and help secure said supplies behind it."

"The same artillery strike caused part of the facility to collapse, cutting off our path to armored and heavily armed vehicles that we desperately need. If the Sanctioned Psyker can move the debris from the said area and give us access to the area once more, we may actually have a chance at this."

"I need two people to man the heavy defense turrets on the front of the facility, no one else seems to have the balls to man it and mow down the Xenos. The weapons on the turrets are heavy bolters but also have built into grenade launchers. Someone skilled enough can push the Orks back and give us some breathing room."

"As for you Ophelian Celestian Aviza Norea of the Order of the Argent Shroud, I need your help planning our next major plan of attack and then I would like to request that you help boost the moral of the troops via vox communication. Knowing that you are all here will greatly help."

Aviza nodded her head in acknowledgement, "Alright everyone, you know your areas of expertise, carry out your orders then report back here once they are finished." She then motioned them to move out immediately.

"I can deal with the debris! Mere material obstacles hold no sway over anyone who transcends reality!"

Adrianne answered with an enthusiastic tone, holding a clenched metal glove up in front of her as her eyes briefly shimmered with purple, warp energy from behind her skeletal mask. Then a pause.

"So... where actually is that cave in?"

"Bzt... " One of the red robed, half robotic tech priests chirped as she looked up at the tall psyker.
"The structural collapse occured in hallway B89 Echolon of the Varastrium section on the northern Supply Ban,-"

"Could you just phrase it in standard Gothic, please?"

The Tech Priest looked at her for a moment through his heavy metal faceplate beneath the tattered red hood, a heavy tube going out from where supposedly his mouth was. Or her mouth. Or its??

"Tzzzp.... 01110011 01101001 01100111 01101000, yes. Take to the right, head down the stairs. Walk 50 steps forward, taking your leg length into account. Then walk in the door marked Ministorum, go through, then head to the right whereupon,-"

"Eeeehhhhhh... why don't you just show me instead?"

"Tzzip *Crackle*. That may be the optimal solution."

*

Almost 40 minutes later, after having had to march through the endless gothic halls and dusty, ramshackled labourites of the complex, Adrianne finally arrived together with the tech priest and an accompanying guardsman to the area where the collapse had happened.

"Alright, I recommend you guys take a step back. I need some room to work. My powers are very dangerous, and I do not want any of your craniums to suddenly implode... " She said, giving a short pause to change a glance over at the tech priest walking silently next to her.
" ... or for your circuit to short-circuit."

"Wait, cranium implosion?" The guardsman named Frank who was accompanying them suddenly said, taking a moment to pause his nose-picking.

"Bz. It is the will of the machine spirit that I am still cursed with a brain of flesh and blood. By the will of the Omnissiah, my head cavity will be replaced with a glorious central processing unit come the end of the next moon cycle... also, we have arrived our destination, Madam Psyker."

"Hold on... what was that about cranium implosions!?"

"Great! Now just how much rubble are we dealing... with... "

Adrianne ended up eating whatever she was planning on saying next as they entered through a heavy blast door to see the large, open hallway, appearing to be part of some manufacturum where the central hallway had been totally collapsed as mounds upon mounds of bent steel, blocks of concrete and a heretical amount of dust and dirt had created a massive, 50ft tall, almost 100ft wide wall of debris in front of them.

...

"... emperor, fuck me!"

Herod's body shuddered involuntarily as the vehicle bumped and bounced along the ragged roadways that led to the complex, his armored hands fixed to the turret controls. He didn't know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that they met no Xenos along the way. Good they had a safe trip and found themselves in a defensive position, but he was never shy from slaying the enemies of the Emperor. Thinning the herd was never unwelcome either.

When it was time to step out of Taurox, a murmur rose among the guardsmen from all of the 'colorful' characters that exited. The Apothecary received the most praise, but many shied away from Herold's broad frame as his booted feet stepped onto the dirt. No doubt some of the guardsmen had witnessed Judges in their duties on their native homeworlds. The crackling shockmaul at his side certainly did not help ease their fear.

Lt. Nova should have been an odd sight to him, until he realized the majority of his squad was female. It bothered him none. Meat for the grinder.

He made his way toward the Heavy Bolter Turret at the front of facility. The heavy thuds of his boots reverberated across the stairway as he made his way up, and set his equipment down beside his chair as he began to man the turret. He flipped open the ready switch and placed his hands on the control, taking off the safety precautions and making sure the turret was loaded. Thumbs now on the trigger, his squared jaw moved as he spoke through the vox.

"Ready."

“Fix bulkhead, get supplies... got it.” Vala stated with a nod as she grabbed her toolkit and quickly nodded to a guardsman to guide her in the direction where the artillery strike hit so she can assess the damages. This was the first time she actually had to participate in ground siege warfare kind of action. She was more of a space child than anything, hell she was both born and raised in space ships and stations so she did felt a mot more at home out in the unforgiving stars than on ground.

With a calm cold expression she followed the soldier until he led her to the bulkhead she needed to open.” Well... I've seen worse.” Was her simple statement to the pretty frikin huge bulkhead that had scorch marks from the impact and a lot of scratches, dents from shrapnel. It didn't actually take long to locate the sources of the problem as of why there was a lockdown going on and no way to stop it. The whole section seemed pretty much cut off from the rest of the base. The artillery had severed a main circuit path that once struck pretty much assured this whole section would not be opened.” Well no amount of overriding this would help... Bring me cables... as many and as long as you can find.” She stated quickly moving to the bulkhead control module that while looked powered had no input or output what's o ever. They were turned to lockdown and the override controls were cut. This was going to be done the old school.

She took a a screwdriver and using a hammer quickly got a nick into the controls before hitting it again to pull off the entire panel, revealing an astounding amount of wiring behind.” Here be the pretties~” She whistled, quickly pulling and preparing cables for replacement and reattachment.” Oi... you there! Take off the panel on that wall over there!” She shouted, and pointed to a metal panel on a wall all the way beyond the damaged parts of the circuits. Basically she was simply going to bypass the bulkhead local controls and grant complete access to the main control unit while utilizing the local interface as a adapter! She had a sly smile on, bypassing connectors, connecting wires and making pretty much a joke of hte entire system that was set in place to protect the technology from being tampered with! One didn't fly on independent merc ships and be their engineer without learning how to override or bypass imperial tech safety limitars and the like.

Compared to everyone else getting out of the pair of vehicles, Ansgar might as well as have been invisible. This hardly bothered the Krieger at all, after all, the average Guardsman was used to never being noticed anyways. Between the Arbites, the Astartes, the Sister, hell, even the Psyker or the mercenary, another Guardsman, even a Krieg born one, might as well be run of the mill. This suited the Grenadier just fine, really, he wasn't here for attention, or glory, or any of that business. He had a job to do, and that meant seeing it done, regardless of whether he was recognized or not. Really, it was easier for him not being noticed than it was being noticed, that tended to make him more uncomfortable than it did anything else. After all, being noticed made one important, and importance was a bulls eye on the back. It was a common misconception for Kriegers to be death seekers, they merely had no qualms sacrificing themselves for the good of the Imperium. Even if it was as unpleasant as getting cut down by enemy weapon fire to drain their reserves that much more in anticipation for the final push.

The sight of a female commanding officer for the Guard forces didn't even elect a blink of surprise from the Krieger, though no one would have noticed either way. A superior was a superior, regardless of birth, gender, or personality. They gave the orders, and the rank and file followed, it was a simple clarity of purpose that many regiments seemed to lack at the best of times. Of course, orders were handed out and, per the Celestian's instructions, each of them knew their area of expertise. Considering the mercenary went to take care of the engineering job, and the Psyker took the demolition job? That really left him and the Arbites to man the heavy weapons. Ironically enough, he probably had the least heavy weapons experience comparatively to your typical heavy weapons team, or Guardsmen for that matter. Not that he didn't know how to operate such things, that would be incompetence bordering heresy, but he wasn't much of a heavy weapons operator, by personal preference.

Orders were orders, however, and without a word Ansgar fell in step after the Arbites, approaching the heavy weapons position that wasn't taken first, and began checking it over. Relatively unscathed, fully loaded with krak grenades and heavy bolter rounds, well maintained all around. Praise the Emperor for this blessing, Ansgar thought as he manned the heavy weapon post, loading the initial rounds in each heavy bolter and preparing the grenade launchers. Krak would be reserved for vehicles or armored Orks that shrugged off bolter fire, as disturbing as that thought was. Otherwise, one word was spoken, both to alert the Arbites on the other turret and all allied forces in general that he was in position and prepared to engage.

"Heavy weapon position manned and prepared to engage on your word, Arbites."

Nergüi enjoyed the ride to the fortified headquarters of the Guard on Tarson immensely; in spite of being shoved inside of the rear of the Taurox like a canned food product, he was a White Scar and all of his Chapter enjoyed going at speed. So much so was he enjoying it that he began to feel a pang of yearning for his own Assault Bike – a mechanised replacement for the steeds that all nomadic warriors on his planet would treat like one of their own family.

They filed out of the nearly twin vehicles in an orderly fashion once they had come to a stop, the members of the Celestian's task force crowding around her to be taken into the interior of the fortress and into the presence of the highest ranking officer still left in command. Although the Apothecary received his fair share of stares, some Guardsmen and women even kneeling as he passed, he took such things in his stride and simply ignored them for the most part; this was not out of any malice toward them, not at all, but he had gotten used to such reactions on Armageddon and now these quaint customs of unaltered mortals barely even registered.

Lieutenant Nova of the Tarson Guard was a woman quick to look them over and even swifter to give orders for their most useful dispersal, the look of relief upon her face most evident indeed, her eyes glancing briefly up at his towering form before focusing on the remainder of the unit. Although his helmet has been looking toward the rear of the room, the HUD and sensors registering and recording all it could for a later time – even target locks flickering into life around every biological life form present – his organic eyes looked down at her from within, and a smile twitched at the side of his lips.

"I need someone medically trained to handle injuries in the infirmary, we have many wounded who need the assistance immediately."

"Alright everyone, you know your areas of expertise, carry out your orders then report back here once they are finished."

“I request a guide to the infirmary,” boomed the voice from within his helmet, a nearby Guardsman sequestered temporarily for his purposes without much of a fuss.

They made good time, the guide – who had introduced himself as “Private First-Class Niells” - obviously knowing the layout of the complex better than most. A layout that was mapped by the sensors of the White Scar, up until and including their arrival to the doors of the infirmary.

“My thanks, Private.” It was a small platitude, but the bald-headed Niells seemed to have been emotionally uplifted nonetheless.

It appeared that the field surgeon and his team of exhausted aides was not to be so easily amused, the bearded and grizzled doctor glaring up at the towering hulk with narrowed eyes the colour of a stormy sea, his thick, hairy, arms crossed tightly over his chest and apron as he approached the Astartes.

“You can't fool me with your airs and graces, Marine. I fought beside your kind on Ebascos Eight! These others may never have seen one of you bleed,” he almost bellowed, “but I've seen your fellows die.”

With an almost casual movement, causing the doctor to take a startled step back, Nergüi removed his helmet with a hiss and attached it to his hip in one smooth movement. Revealed then was a craggy face and wispy beard of aged grey, two dark and deep eyes taking in the man but betraying nothing of his feelings, his mouth moving into a smile seemed more threatening – coming from the over large transhuman face – than comforting, the ritual scarring of his homeworld doing nothing to ease the nerves of any present.

“What colour was their armour?” He asked in a voice like the deep bass boom of a gun or trumpet, wisdom etched into every syllable, but also the clear feeling that he meant no harm.

“They was dark blue,” replied the doctor, quite taken aback, “blue with a white dragons head on their shoulders, and a silver aquila.”

“Your memory is good, Surgeon,” congratulated the savage-looking Marine, “and those were the warriors of the Star Dragons, neither kith nor kin to my own but loyal and steadfast for all that.”

His eyes now swept past the chief surgeon and into the infirmary – a fancy name for a room of sterilised equipment, simple beds and plastic curtains, a room of piss and blood and screams. There must have been dozens of dying and wounded in that one room alone, damage of every sort visible in a glance, it was good to be here.

“Will you be able to mend the wounded in that?” Questioned the surgeon with incredulity, his tone one of serious scepticism, a hand gesturing at the power armour.

“Find me tools, and I shall save as many lives as I can.”

With a quick glance behind him, where Private Niells was still standing and had not moved, Nergüi chuckled deep within his belly and pointed the man back the way they had come, “please inform Sister Aviza and your Lieutenant that I am here and preparing to assist the Guard in any way I can.”

After Ophelian Celestian Aviza Norea's squad had departed to complete each of their assignments, Nova and the Sister of Battle were left in each other's company. There was a short momentary silence before Nova spoke, she did so while walking back over to the table with the built in holographic projector. "Are you fully aware of our situation upon Tarson, Sister Aviza?" Aviza nodded her head slightly, "For the most part I am, but I assume you have additional information for me?"

Nova ran her left hand along the outer rim of the metallic table that sat before her in the middle of the room, her eyes drifting away from the Sister of Battle for a moment then returning to her. "There are only a couple hundred of Imperial Guardsmen left upon Tarson while the Ork's numbers are well over five million. I do not believe this is a battle we can win, unless some kind of miracle occurs." For a moment, Aviza was silent, but then responded with a question. "Are you sure those are the Orks numbers? Have you seen the Warboss who is leading them?" Nova motioned at the holographic image of the city then pointed with her left index finger at the main cities forge.

"Gutwrencha, he was last seen here, trying to break into the Titan foundry. Our guess is that he wants to acquire or destroy the Titan within. The issue is that we cannot reach for forge on foot for a number of reason, first off being that they have created a barricade to keep us out, beyond that there are a number of traps that have been laid and it is also being watched by mortar teams. The only way to get to the forge is by Valkyrie but the Orks also have full control of the anti-aircraft weapons in the city, and we simply do not have the numbers to take them back at the moment." Aviza looked at the map of the city and studied it before reaching forward and motioning towards a couple markes that represented the anti-aircraft weaponry.

"The main anti-aircraft weapons seem to be positioned at each corner of the city, with a few near the forge. I saw a number of Basilisk Artillery Guns set up around the facility. With simple coordination, we can call down an artillery strike upon each of the anti-aircraft weapon positions. My squad will mark each one then I will give the order to fire, once we are clear." Aviza was about to say something else when Private Niells came running into the room, "My apologies for the interruption, I was ordered by apothecary Nergüi to inform you that he has arrived at the medical bay and is preparing to assist the guard in anyway he can."

"Thank you for the information Private Niells, I myself and Nova are relieved to hear that the apothecary has arrived and will began attending to the wounded shortly. Take a moment to regain your composure while we discuss our next move." Aviza turned back to Nova who then spoke. "If you and your squad think you can accomplish what you have in mind, then I will do everything in my power to see that it is successful. Private Niells, go inform the Basilisk Artillery guns that we will have a fire mission for them shortly, inform them that their targets will be anti-aircraft weaponry at key points around the city. Also inform them that they will hold their fire untill Aviza sends them the all clear."

Private Niells saluted the two of them before swiftly leaving the command room to deliver yet another message. Aviza turned her gaze away from the holographic table to the Guardsmen who had left, then turned her gaze to Nova. "He cannot be over the age of twenty four, how long was he stationed here?" asked Aviza. "He arrived a few months before the siege, he was stationed on the other side of the city when the Orks attacked. I am unsure how he managed to survive both the first assault and his trip across Ork infested grounds."

Aviza's eyes narrowed slightly behind her helmet, "A single guardsmen fresh from training managed to survive the front of an Ork assault then somehow managed to find his way through millions of Orks, only to arrive unscathed at the Imperial Guardsmen headquarters. Either he is truly blessed by the emperor or something more is at play here. I will find out all he knows, and much more once the anti-aircraft weapons are down." As soon as she had finished speaking, she reached down to her data-pad and entered a number of important messages, forwarding them to Strike Cruiser Erathell. within a few seconds, a message would be sent back to Aviza. "This is Strike Cruiser Erathell, we have received your orders and are pulling back to the local star system to resupply and acquire additional support for the Ork invasion. Our return will be in one week, may the emperor watch over you."

"Can we hold off for a week?" asked Nova, Aviza was quick to respond, "Of course we can." Nova nodded her head in acknowledgement before adding, "My personal quarters was built to hold twenty officers and to keep them comfortable, as much as one can be upon a forge world. It is yours to use as you see fit for as long as you and your squad would like. There's a create of MRE's with enough food to last years inside of the room as well, and everything else someone of high rank, or alive for that matter, might find useful." Aviza thanked Nova for her hospitality and took the offer.

Pressing a button upon her data-pad, Aviza checked on each and every member of her squad to see how their assignments were going. "I have new orders but I want to know how each of your assignments are currently going. Have they been completed yet?" By now, three hours had passed since each of them had left with their own assignments, and hopefully they would be completed. "If they have been, you are to report back to the command room to await orders on our next course of action, if not, I advise you to work swiftly. That is all for now, carry on."

Three hours it had been...three long and gruelling hours of subtle and cautious work, something that Nergüi was unused to but not incapable of. An Astartes could come through most things, a bone merely needing to be reset before it healed, or a wound simply closed by any means necessary for the bleeding to stop, but mortals such as the one he now peered at upon the metal table were fragile things so easily broken.

“Corporal,” murmured the Marine, his oddly fatherly eyes looking into the wide and blinking ones of the young man beneath his scalpel, “you have fought well and the Emperor knows your name, he bids you go to his right hand. Would you like that?”

Corporal La'shard had been cloven by an Ork 'choppa', his wound was mortal and would have become infected even with medical aid, his uniform – once so neat and clean – was covered in his own blood, his trousers filled with his own excrement, his flesh as white as ivory. Still, with what strength was left to him, the soldier managed to give a nod of his head and in doing so accepted his fate.

“Good, then rest now; our Lord shall welcome you with open arms.”

The scalpel, which looked like a sewing needle in the huge fists of the living weapon, moved in an almost leisurely motion to end the Corporals life and drag him into the void forever. No, not forever, for the Emperor called all those loyal to him to his side...or so many believed.

“How many are left?” Questioned the Apothecary, having heard the Doctor coming from across the room, his eyes remaining on those of the dead Guardsmen even as he spoke.

“We're nearly done here, and more will live because than would not have – I'd say it's a miracle.”

A slight twinge moved the Chogorians mouth into a grimace, “it is no miracle, Doctor, you and your assistants need only believe in yourself and you can do as I have done.” While this was not entirely true, if it caused the medical staff to work more proficiently and with greater determination – facing the ravages of fatigue and self doubt head on – then he would say anything.

“There was something else?”

“Aye, it seems your chief is asking for you, she wants you back at the command room.”

There was a small grunt and a stretching of oversized limbs from the Astartes, a curiously human gesture for one who did not truly tire, “she is not my 'chief', Doctor. My only chief is Khajog Khan and the Great Khan himself.”

Although he had no idea what any of that meant, the Doctor gave a nod as Nergüi made to leave the infirmary – the route between there and the command centre implanted firmly into his memory – watching as the helmet slid back over those almost feline-like features and silently wishing him luck before he went back to his patients.

---

“Sister Celestian,” he stated by way of greeting, his targeting runes flickering over the battle-hardened form of the Sister before him as he closed the gap between them, “I assume you have new orders for us?”

It was true that he was an Apothecary – one who had to save lives rather than take them, who was sworn to protect his brothers and to bring the progenoid gland home – but since his inception into the Deathwatch, a casual glance at his blackened gauntlet reminding him of that, he had had to slay things that many alive today did not even know existed. Some of the things he had seen...some of the things he had done.

Inside he was still a hunter, a son of Chogoris and a warrior, and that same thrill now began to run through his veins; he sensed there would be action of a sort, could feel it in the air as a cat or dog could sense impending disaster, and it excited him as alcohol intoxicates or drugs stimulate.

On the outside he was as calm as a cup of water, but within he was what he had always been, a weapon of the Emperor of Mankind and an Angel of Death.

"VORTEX OF DOOM!"

Adrianne's voice shouted out through the metallic confines of her skeletal helmet as she lashed both arms forward and towards the literal wall of junk and debris!

A low but powerful deep churning sound could suddenly be heard emanating from within the pile, as rocks and pieces of the heavy metal support structure began to shift and turn. It was as if the very pile that was blocking off the hallway was beginning to come to life, moving about as if it had a life of its own, and pulled by unseen forces!

"By the Emperor, what is this?" Sounded the concerned voice of the guardsman who by this time had taken at least ten steps back. The Tech Priest, who's facial expression was as indiscernible as ever through his metallic face plate, simply clicked and whirred as he observed the current events.

For every second, the churning simply grew louder and louder, until the wall began to visible pull inwards to some hidden point; large slabs of concrete rubbing against giant steel struts as they were being pulled inwards. With a terrible crack of breaking rock and concrete, and a loud, almost deafening metallic screech of a large strut being bent at an impossible angle, the center of the debris wall would give way to what seemed to be a swirling cavity of sort centered around a small, dark, purple bead no larger than a football!
A swirling cloud surrounded the black vortex, as dust and debris was pulled into it with increasing force! A 20ft long and thick steel support beam dipped partially down towards the swirling vortex, only to suddenly gain a violent reaction as the entire beam was crumpled like a piece of paper in less than a second and pulled into the vortex, disappearing entirely!

A powerful wind was now starting to pick up in the hallway! An audible pair of 'clanks' could be heard from behind Adrianne as the Tech Priest activated his magnetic feet, his tattered and oil splattered robes now flying in the wind as they were being pulled towards the center of the vortex up above! The guardsman had huddled further behind, grabbing ahold of a metal fence and clinging onto it for his dear life as the pull of the vortex reached further and further out!

What had once been a towering, complete pile of debris capable of blocking the almost cathedral sized hallway had now been sucked into the voracious vortex in the center! Huge blocks of concrete and massive steel struts had been swallowed up by the vortex without leaving as much as a single trace behind of their existence! A heavy mining cart was lurched towards the center of the vortex, only to let out another ear-bleeding metallic screech as it too was crumpled up and torn apart at the atomic level by the vortex! Swirling clouds of dust now flew across the room, as the vortex easily picked up the centuries of dust and grime that had gathered in the facility; and even began to scrape off some of the ancient paint off the walls!

And then... in a single motion of Adrianne's arms, the vortex stopped spinning, and in the blink of an eye; was gone, leaving whatever little junk it had not already swallowed to simply fall away in the hallway.

"That solves that." Adrianne remarked with a satisfied, if tired, smile beneath her skeletal mask as she observed her handiwork.

The hallway; which had previously been littered with various pieces of tools, carts, machines and the huge pile of debris that had caved in at the center; was now completely barren! Every single object that had not been bolted down had been swallowed up by the vortex, and even some of the machinery that had been bolted down had also been swallowed up by the vortex due to their close proximity.

"This is Adrianne speaking!" Adrianne activated the vox com in her helmet, reaching out to the rest of the squad, though stopped halfway through the sentence as she noticed something.

*Drip*
...
*Drip-drip-drip*

It was beginning to slowly rain. Inside the hallway, seemingly out of nowhere.

Tiny, crimson droplets fell from somewhere above in the ceiling, landing on the steel and concrete floor to paint them red. In fact, upon closer inspection, the small red beads falling on her red armored glove were in fact, blood.

It was raining blood.

"Interesting." Sounded the monotonous and impassionate voice of the tech priest as he casually observed the strange phenomenon, the droplets of blood that fell on his already crimson mechanicus robe hardly making a difference.

"Ehhh... sometimes it happens." Adrianny said simply, before returning to her voice com once again.

"This is Adrianne speaking. The obstacle in the hallway has been cleared, and the passageway is now ready for use. Everything's going fine on my end, no problems to report."

"THE BLOOD OF THE DAMNED IS RAINING ON OUR HEADS!" Sounded the now terrified voice of the guardsman as he crept out from his cover.

"I said, things are fine!"

*Urk*

Adrianne gave a warning glare as she raised two fingers towards the guardsman, causing him to suddenly grasp at his own throat as he was seemingly unable to either talk nor breathe, and the Guardsman fell to his knees!

"I'm heading back now, Adrianne out."

And with that, Adrianne turned off her vox and marched back from where she had come, releasing the cursed hold on the guardsman as the Tech Priest followed casually after her.

*

A while later and one more journey through the impossible maze that was the facility that they were in, Adrianne would step back into the command center.

The job itself had taken little more than five minutes. The actual journey of going to and back from the place had taken up the majority of her time, and Adrianne could already feel her legs being sore from all the ceaseless walking!

As she stepped into the command center, she could already see the hulking figure of Nergui conversing with the sister of battle.

"I'm back from my assignment!" Adrianne announced proudly as she stepped towards them, raising a hand as her staff rested against her shoulder.
"The job turned out easier than expected, but the infrastructure of this place is a mess!"

The 7ft tall psyker was now caked from top to toe in now dried blood, making it look as if she had just returned from a particularly busy day at the slaughterhouse, her skeletal mask bloodied, and the normally white, long ponytail trailing behind her now featuring a heavy shade of crimson!
The blood was less visible on the tech priest that came trailing behind her, but was still visible in the more rustic look that his cybernetic implants were not sporting!

With a smile on her face, Vala worked with immense passion! She cut cables, connected new ones, pulled connectors and bypassed systems. As the passage of time continued, the whole hallway had been covered with cables, with almost the entirety of the sections' systems being directly tied to the main controls without any pesky middle stations. She even took the time to rewrite part of the command code to add a patented boost to it, making it work a quarter faster!

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE, CHOP CHOP! MOVE AWAY FROM THE BULKHEAD!” She shouted, waving a hand to the people who were about.” YOU THERE MOVE AWYA FROM THE CABLES! DO YOU WANT TO BE DEEP FRIED!?” She continued until it was finally time to put it all in practice!

“Vala here, I'm about to connect the damaged section to the mainframe! Prepare for immediate warnings!” She called over the radio as she flicked the big switch she had tied everything to. With the distinctive hum of energy surging, everything in the hallway came to life. Lights lit up, the cable's signaling devices also lit up to indicate power. The warnings systems booted right again since the time they were frozen during the attack, but with some quick button fiddling the alarms fell silent as the huge bulkhead started opening!

“Welp, that's done finally~” She said and took a deep breath, gathering her tools.

“What is this...?” A voice came.” The machine spritis!!!”

“Ehhh...” Vala made a confused sound and shrugged, taking her tool case and simply leaving the hallways before she was discovered, heading back towards the celestian.

“Job's done! Supplies are secured and the whole cut of section's once more under control!” She reported a job well done(in her own personal opinion that was).” All sensors and the like should be back up too. Just don't have people walk and step on the cabling... the cables will survive, not sure about hte humans who step on them though.”

Three hours at the controls of a quad heavy bolter turret, with auxiliary launcher systems, tends to give man perspective. Not the right one, mind you, considering he knew how proper dangerous an Ork horde could be. Then again, sitting perched up on a wall, well and truly out of reach of all but their longest reaching weapons, tends to put just about anyone to the size of an ant, another very dangerous way to see thins. He had been sweeping along the center to left, leaving the right and that half of center to the other manned turret and other member of the retinue. He had enough to worry about, as he checked the links of the ammo crates leading into the heavy bolters themselves, considering it seemed the greenskins intended to push towards his side, again. Particurally ragtag group, this one, if the optics could be trusted, seemed they were running out of shit to throw at the walls for now. They'd regroup, of course, but this was a stalling tactic, minimize the amount of attrition suffered in exchange for maximum damage towards the Ork ranks.

"Probing force, far left. Another test of weapon traverse, engaging." As if punctuating his sentence, the heavy bolters opened up, roaring out a torrent of .998 caliber high explosive bolts right into the ranks of Orks charging and moving with the rag tag looking vehicle. He knew better at this point, despite appearances, the things could weather a rather impressive volume of fire at the worst of times. Keying the launchers, the staccato thuds, near lost in the chattering heavy bolters, sent a screen of krak grenades out as well. Quite a few missed their marks, due to the nature of firing precision weapons in such a manner like this, and as far as the Krieger was concerned? Ordnance as as much precision as it was raw power. Volume of fire had its place though, and considering the rapidly shredded ranks of Orks and the countless vehicles and corpses strewn about the area before the wall? It had been used to a very effective sense.

His methodology and focus had done precisely what was ordered, coupled with the methods of the Arbites watching the other half, the Orks retreating en mass. Normally, this would be the time for a breakout assault and continue the momentum against the breaking forces, but considering what was seen thus far? There were not enough forces here to maintain such a breakout action, so the respite would have to do before the Orks rallied and came again. Emperor willing, that would be enough time to be ready for the next attack. However, with that done, he heard a rather disconcerting clunk as one of the heavy bolters stopped firing. Glancing at the weapon, sure enough, it was jammed, but spotting several tech priests as he stopped manning the heavy weapon position, waving them over. "Jammed heavy weapon position, maintenance required. I am required elsewhere." With that, he unslung his Type XIV (Heavy) before marching his way back towards the command post, leaving the heavy weapon position for the techpriests and other guardsmen to do with as they saw fit.

Arriving back at the command post, Ansgar noted the fact that the psyker was coated in blood. Apparently moving debris resulted in copious amounts of blood, raising an eyebrow beneath his rebreather and helmet, briefly before returning back to his normal expression, not that any of this was apparent beneath the rebreather. "Ma'am, you might want to at least rinse the blood out of the clothes, or at least your hair at the next opportunity. Getting caked blood out of both is not a pleasant experience." How he knew both of these things, well, story time for another day, as he turned to the Celestian and offered a curt salute before reporting. "Orks repelled and suppressed for now, ma'am, Arbitrator should be along presently. Ready for next assignment." The sight of the Angel of Death was getting an abnormally low amount of attention from the Krieger, but considering his past experiences, it was hardly surprising.

"Xenos" Herold spat with disdain as he saw one Greenskin far off in the distance through his scope, raising its choppa and rallying its troops for an assault on the walls. It looked a bit more purposeful than the normal boasting of an Ork Warleader. Though he doubted that was the Warboss. He fully expected a brute of monumental proportions, and the one he looked at now seemed like an up-jumped Nob with the support of a few thousand of his eager fellows.

With a guttural cry, the Ork horde that had hunkered down on the front lines suddenly lifted themselves up and charged. Gretchins leaped up with them. The Ork's smaller cousins gnashing their teeth and wildly shooting ramshackle pistols into the air. The bigger Orks loped with a heathen ferocity, brandishing their weapons and firing whatever guns they had forward, though most didn't even have the range to hit the wall at their distance.

That was when Herold and Ansgar unleashed hell, the Krieger troop informing Herold of the sweep to the left. "Right secured," Herold replied, ripping through green flesh and bits of hammered metal with the intense reign of fire he was sweeping over them. He had not used a Heavy Bolter in years, but it was still familiar to the Arbites sensibilities. He hardly ever smiled, but he had a very grim satisfaction that so many Ork Xenos were perishing under his watch.

The hours counted down, and when three were up, the Orks had seemed to have lost their fury at the moment. The Nob that led them lay dead, along with a few hundred of his fellows piled around him. "Ammo needs refilling," Herold told one of the approaching tech priests, and he stepped off the turret once he received news of the briefing they were to receive. He reported in, echoing Ansgar's information of a failed Ork incursion.

As soon as Adrianne walked back into the command room, Aviza had her eyes locked on the blood soaked Psyker. "Psykey Adrianne, would you mind explaining to me why you are soaked in blood?" There was a momentary pause before the Sister of Battle spoke once more. "Don't' answer that, it's better if I do not know." said Aviza, turning back to the holographic command table in front of her. After bringing up an image of the surrounding city, Aviza pointed key locations where anti-aircraft cannons were located. "Here is the situation at hand, the Orc Warboss leading the assault upon Tarson is known as Gutwrencha. He was last seen here, trying to break into the Titan foundry." Aviza pointed at the foundary in the middle of the city with the index finger of her left hand.

"Our guess is that he wants to acquire or destroy the Titan within. The issue is that we cannot reach for forge on foot for a number of reasons, first off being that the Orcs have created a barricade to keep us out, beyond that there are a number of traps that have been laid and it is also being watched by mortar teams. The only way to get to the forge is by Valkyrie but the Orks also have full control of the anti-aircraft weapons in the city. This is where we come in, as a team we will head to each of the Orc anti-aircraft cannons and mark them. Once they are marked, we will return to the command center and the Basilisk Artillery Guns will take care of destroying them. Our next move will be to take a Valkyrie and arrive at the foundary, then use its defenses against the Orc horde, hopefully pushing them back and giving us enough time to find something of use against the Warboss."

Aviza paused and turned to her squad, "There is one more thing though, Strike Cruiser Erathell has departed from the star system to regroup and gather additional support, they will return within a week. In the meantime, we have officer living quarters to use untill that time comes, are there any questions?"

Adrianne was about to respond but simply nodded with her head towards Aviza as the Sister just changed her mind, the Psyker's motion enough to cause more than a few drops of blood to spill down from her skeletal mask and onto the console in front of her.

Looking around at the rest of the gathering team, the Psyker could hardly say that they had had any noticeable difficulty with their assignments. Aside from herself, Nergui was the only person that seemed to have become a little bloodied from his latest assignement, the towering Astartes's ornate armor carrying some specks of blood. Although she knew Nergui was an apothecary, she knew that the blood on his suit might just as well have come from the surgical table as well as from the space marine giving a lesson in unarmed combat to an Ork in the wrong spot at the wrong time.

Granted, the Apothecary still hadn't taken a literal blood shower, unlike Adrianne and the tech priest.

Listening to Aviza fill them in on the mission, Adrianne would remove her skeletal helmet, the helmet emitting a slight hiss as it was removed from her torso armor, and Adrianne peered at Aviza; her skin and top hair being noticeably more clean and less blood splattered than the rest of the Psyker.

"Actually... " Adrianne started, raising a finger as she looked at Aviza and the rest of the group.

Waiting until she had gained their attention, Adrianna's hand would shift back, to point at the two skeletal servo-skulls hovering in the air behind her, their long, snake-like metallic spines writhing in the air behind them. The blood covering their skeletal and robotic parts made it look as if they were literal human skulls that had torn their way out of their host bodies and taken the spines with them, and they constantly eyed the group with the red, shimmering and unblinking light of their auspex scanners built into the dark of their skull sockets, which looked like glowing red eyes.

"I think my Servo Skulls would be better suited for this mission. They can traverse the rough terrain of this forge world better than any pair of human legs, and thanks to their small size, they will have a much easier time staying hidden from the enemy's view than any elite team, especially if said team features an Astartes."

Adrianne commented, her passing one purple eye over at Nergui, the towering, 8ft tall Astartes who could best be described as a human tank. Trying to sneak him through Ork territory unseen would be akin to trying to smuggle a bolt pistol into a nightclub when you yourself wore little more than a body glove!

"Just give them the frequency to fire control, and they will locate and mark out the Ork anti-air positions in a fraction of the time it would take us. In the meantime, we could prepare for the real mission with the Valkyries."

Ansgar didn't consider the fact that his comment on the psyker's current state was ignored as insulting or anything, it really wasn't anything unusual. However, that was not the concern, as the Celestian started giving out the next assignment orders. Firstly, spot for Guard artillery to bring down Ork AA. This would clear the path for them to be able to relocate by air to the foundry and hold the line there. From that point, they would have to find some sort of weapon or method capable of pushing back against the Orks. Breakout efforts were usually vital to besieged forces, however, there was a problem of manpower. Breaking out without the means of remaining secure accomplished nothing except use up resources, be they bodies, munitions, or otherwise necessary supplies. He was not the one in charge though, so that was well and truly above his head.

The psyker spoke up, waiting needlessly for all eyes to be specifically on her before she laid out her plan. Send the skull probes, let them target, and have them sitting around waiting to prep for the follow on mission. Glancing at the probes, Ansgar considered the problems with sending two unarmed machines out. Guard forces used human spotters for a good reason, and he calmly pointed that out after she finished her bit. "With all due respect ma'am, I must disagree with said plan. So, we assume the Guard forces here can even interpret the encoded burst transmissions they would use, which if they are anything like our kit, they cannot without some modifications that would make the cogboys very angry." Ansgar paid no heed to the cogboy that had accompanied the psyker as he spoke, it was common Guard slang that he never paid it any mind.

"Utilizing servo skulls as spotters would take a very specific set of tools, assuming yours are equipped as such already, and if they aren't the modification time would not save us any time to go out ourselves. Secondly, spotters not only relay coordinates but report on effectiveness of the barrage. Third, terrain navigation isn't nearly as much of a problem as you might think. If deploying the entire team is that much of a concern for you, I'll go. This sort of operation is typical of sorties into a no man's land, spotting hostile AA or heavy weapon positions for effective fire, and slipping away again. I would rather go than rely on servo skulls not purpose built for the mission." Ansgar had his arms crossed over his chestplate now, turned to face the psyker squarely while he spoke on his misgivings for the suggested plan. Servo skulls could be used for scouting, he reckoned, but spotters used a very specific set of equipment and broadcasting methods, including the type of fire that would be most effective. Merely receiving coordinates would not optimize the Basilisk's artillery strikes, meaning wasted rounds. Going off this situation, they could not risk wasted rounds.

Hence why the Krieger volunteered. Grenadiers were the closest the Krieg regiments had to stormtroopers, and were drawn from the rank and file of the regiment, trained in house, and kitted out nearly as well as the stormtroopers themselves. His background as an engineer prior to Grenadier would ensure he could operate the necessary equipment, and raids like this were precisely what the Grenadiers did, alongside being the first ones out of the trenches and charging the enemy line. Gloryboys and Grenadiers had their differences, deployment methods for example, but they could operate as the vanguard none the less, targeting specific high value objectives or moving through enemy lines to take out targets prior. Solo operations were a rarity, but he could do it if necessary. If they were offering alternatives, than he had offered his, mostly in rebuke to sending servo skulls to do the job of proper spotters.