[IC] Dark Angels: The Argyos Heresy (Warhammer 40K)

[HeySeuss]

Erinyes
St. Julia Astronomic Shrine Compound
Day 67 of the Siege

They're wearing down... thought the Captain; the 4th Katis Dianid Regiment was a strange thing in the Imperial Guard -- all female, highly fanatical and from Katis, a world where the skills of chivalry lived on. Their faith in the Emperor was so absolute that the Adepta Sororitas often recruited the best for into their order to become Sisters of Battle, but the average Guardswoman of the regiment did the Guard as a whole proud. Here, they were standing against superior odds, though they held the St. Julia compound. Holding it alone wouldn't account for how long they'd held out, but the grim resolve of their defense was a testament to the regiments that Katis sent to the Emperor's service.

But this Xenos threat was unlike anything they'd ever dreamed of -- the plasma weapons that spat fury at their positions managed to take out Colonel Eurydice and much of the staff, though there were still commissars and their Ecclesiarchy-assigned priest to keep their spirits up, and the positions were weakening. The enemy wanted multiple breaches so they could make multiple assaults with their strange robot-armors, like Imperial Walkers, but It was a deadly cat and mouse -- the Xenos wanted this Astropathic Shrine destroyed, but to do so, they had to break the defensive like of the Dianids. Knots of fortification with bolters and lasguns built into an escarpment on Erinyes, with the shrine itself atop it meant that they were Queens of the Hill, and the enemy learned that a close assault meant fighting the Dianids hand-to-hand.

The Xenos, with their strange monocular helmets and incredible energy weaponry were not the equal of these women with chainswords and shotguns, and the Dianids themselves could not make the assault of the enemy, who had such superior firepower that they'd easily cut down assaults on their position in the earliest days of the siege. The bodies of their comrades still sat in the barren gray sand of Erinyes, their uniforms and fallen banners fluttering forlornly.

Sooner or later, the supplies would run out or the Xenos would bring in enough reinforcements to take the citadel;

The Dianids did not waver in their duty to the Emperor; they grimly said their prayers every new day and hoped for the opportunity to kill more Xenos. How, who, why didn't matter anymore.

All the same, they had the astropathic choir, and could only hope that something would hear their plea for help.

"Erinyes base, this is Frigate Repentance. Prepare your forces to provide fire support on the western side of your siege lines. Emperor be with you, we come."

--

Up above, an orbital drop pod rattled into the atmosphere, ancient technology with a singular purpose; to fire the finest warriors humanity had into dangerous situations before an enemy could even be aware of such a thing, much less able to respond. The rattling was initially atmospheric reentry, but then it changed to something else; the telemetry indicators into their helmets told them that they were well past the point of re-entry, and yet the turbulence was something else; hostile fire.

Whatever Xenos were firing upon them, they clearly had the advanced technology to bring anti-aircraft weaponry to bear. That wasn't like the Orks, and the Eldar didn't tend to hold to a fixed position in such a way, but rather preferred to lure their enemies. This pod had decoys along, and they were being burned out of the sky by some sort of fire. The occupants couldn't see that; they were strapped in and the drop pods had no viewports. Still, it had been designed for such contested landings, armor plated and eminently survivable, and the occupants within were also armored and sealed against atmosphere, though the planet they were landing on had an oxygen atmosphere that was tolerable even for unaugmented humanity.

Uriel used the time to go over the mission briefing; they'd been en route to Scorpio when they'd gotten the request for aid intended for the Sisters of Battle, and were close enough by to render assistance -- the chapter did not tolerate heresy and was particularly eager to root it out, partially in response to the way that ever member of the Dark Angels was inundated with tales of hunting traitors, and partially, as he knew as a member of the Deathwatch, because any trail could lead to the pursuit of the Fallen.

The battle brothers took the news of their diversion stoically -- cryptic orders from the top were not unusual and almost never questioned openly. Their was a culture of taciturn obedience and stoic devotion to duty.

He'd spent the hours before the drop in prayer and maintenance rituals of his weaponry. There were only four of them, but four Space Marines was a lot. If they could save the astropaths, so much the better. If not, they could at least find out what the Inquisitor died for; her effects were down there, including datafiles that she'd compiled of her investigation.

They weren't alone -- they had the 12th Brimlock Dragoons prepared to land in support of the Dianids, but it would require securing a landing zone, a suit for which the Adeptus Astartes were considered ideal.

Whilst the drop pod burned through the atmosphere, its cogitator directing it to the western side of the siege lines where the Dark Angels were tasked with securing a drop zone for the Brimlock Dragoons' relief force, Uriel ran through a litany of prayers. The other veterans in here had seen service in other grim and desperate fights, and they were confident in their-Emperor given abilities.

There was a momentary jolt of the pod as the reverse thrusters tried to brake the impact of the pod with the ground; the impact would have killed a normal human but was considered only bruising for Battle-Brothers. A moment later, the restraints that held them in place released and the machine-spirit advised that the massive walls of the orbital drop pod were coming down -- in seconds -- even as the Deathwind missile launcher came online.

The doors came down with a massive clamor of metal and the missiles fired in multiple directions overheard as Uriel stepped out with his bolter already firing, identifying the targets with the auto-senses attuned to his weapon; monocular helmets, armor made of square segments and carrying strange, boxlike rifles. They were uniformly wearing a slate gray camouflage broken up by three yellow bar markings on their helmets.

The particulars were interesting to Uriel, but irrelevant in the sense that it didn't matter -- they died under a storm of missile and bolter fire as the assault began. He hurled a frag grenade right into the nearest trenchwork; it had barely exploded when he dropped in among the enemy, finishing one with a gauntletted fist pummeled through the thing's helmet. He withdrew a hand dripping with xenos blood, bluish-purple on his dark green gauntlets.

"They are off-guard brothers, press the assault for the Emperor and the Lion! Never forgive! Never forget!"

[Reialgo]

It was a strange sensation for the space marine Hakael Caim, sitting in the undermaned hunk of ceramite hurtinling itself planetside. No, not his mode of transport, he had been lucky enough to live enough centuries to learn to love the harsh rattling of the drop pod, no it was the small squad size that originally threw him. They had been making for a rendevous with other chapter brothers, but at the last minute their helmsman had intercepted desperate astropathic comunications from a planet well within their projected course, and the sparse marines inside changed their course bearings without batting an eye

Hakael tightened his grip on his bolter's handle as the craft continued to rock violently well past the point of turbalance, not out of fear, but of anticipation, these impacts were from gunfire signalling a vicious landing ahead. As the final moments of the pod's flight occured, Hakael couldn't help but ponder on the scale of the inquisitor's investigations that had led to such a heavy retaliation, seemingly from a foe that rarely pushes contact this hard.

As if to ward off his distracting thoughts, the pod lurched violently, once, distinctly, it was the reverse thrusters kicking in to stop the drop pod from smahing into oblivion. Perhaps the timing was from the pod's very machine spirit, a pat on the back to straighten thoughts, Hakael was grateful for it and firmly planted his feet to the ground as his restraints sprung loose, pushing himself to his feet in the same moment as the drop pod'd door clanged to the ground. He had done this countless times before, as had his 3 other battle brothers, their timing was down to the milisecond. Hakael's super human senses allowed him to make out the entrenched foe as he burst from the pod, they were spindly, even in their battle armour, perhaps it was made of weaker matarial to aid in movement, their rifles were long and their actions precise, almost as precise as the marines, almost.

Achknowledging the bellows of his sergent Hakael barreled towards the nearest hastily made entrenchment, his bolter roared a few concise bolts to pin the defenders to their own cover before leaping into the position crushing one of the xenos into the ground with his own weight. His accompanying chainblade roared into life and shreded 2 more, as he thought there was little resistence. He took advantage of the intimidation from his agressive breach to gun down the remainder of the xenos squad that had survived the deathwind barrage. Of course he didn't expect the remaining aliens to go down so easily, but he was ever eager to doll out righteous fury on willing recipitents, and on the plus side he earned solid ground, "Position secured" He growled into his comm unit before training his sights on the next gunner.

[Sarpedon]

Marbas was excited. He had been excited since the very instant he had learned that they would be dropping into combat once again. Of course, his excitement amounted to a whole lot of nothing, at least outwardly. Inwardly, he was jumping for joy, happier than a child being taken to a candy store. The only thing that dampened his spirits was the urgency with which the squad had dropped. There hadn't been time to refit with a plasma cannon, there had barely been time to bomb-up the sheer number of magazines he demanded. That was all right, though. He had his bolter, and his righteous rage, and a whole lot of ammunition and grenades. He was not at all worried about the upcoming battles. No, he was happy. Very pleased to rain down fire and brimstone on the enemies of the Emperor. Even if his equipment wasn't ideal. But when he considered the number of enemies they were supposed to be facing, perhaps his equipment was a little more ideal than he wanted it to be.

Either way, there he was, rocketing downward through space toward a planet covered in heretics and xenos, while anti-aircraft artillery batteries stitched up the air around the vessel he was riding in, and there nothing to do but wait. Wait, and check all of his gear for the tenth time. "All callsigns, this is Marbas, vox-check, over." he growled into his helmet. The little sensor pinged positively and he assumed he was good to go. He couldn't remember the last time someone had answered his vox-check, but it wasn't for them anyway. Then, interrupting his thoughts, a line of small-arms fire ripped up the door in front of him, making plenty of noise but not doing any damage. He chuckled at that, readying his weapon. They were getting close, he could feel it. And then he really felt it, when the reverse thrusters kicked in, flaring to violent life. The jolt brought a grin to the marine's face and he hefted his boltgun in one hand, tucking the stock under his arm so he could fire it with just his right hand. His left hand was busy holding two plasma grenades. They were primed and ready to be thrown, only their continued proximity to their owner holding back the violent detonation.

Very suddenly, they weren't just close any more. The pod ended its plunge by smashing violently into the earth. The jarring end to the vicious descent was every bit as satisfying as the warrior had hoped it would be. The doors blew at the same instant they hit ground, and even before the doors had struck the ground, Marbas was lobbing the plasma grenades he had readied, and simultaneously firing his bolter at a completely different target. There were trenches everywhere, all of them full of hostile aliens. He couldn't make out what they were, but it didn't matter. The grey-clad warrior didn't care either. They were the enemy. "For the Lion!" he bellowed over the roar of his bolter. The grenades he had thrown went off an instant later, vaporizing a swathe of ground and xenos, leaving behind only a smoking crater. Meanwhile he had yet to release the trigger on his bolt gun. Being used to handling heavy weapons, the superhuman simply walked his fire from one target to the next, his supreme reflexes dictating when each enemy would be hit by a round, and moving on even as it happened. There was no need to wait. A single, standard bolt round easily slaughtered whatever these aliens were. And even one handed, he had absolutely no trouble with that. But it did help to have two hands guiding the Emperor's fury, and his left hand joined his right as soon as it could.

He didn't bother triggering his plasma gun, thanks to the frailty of his enemies. As much as he liked the stuff, there was no need to waste it. However, there was a need for more firepower. Sergeant Uriel said something about the enemy being off guard, and then he thought he heard Hakael spout something about his position being secure. The marine didn't care. Sure, there might be no aliens within their immediate vicinities, but there were still plenty targets on his heads-up display. He would continue fighting stoically, seeing no reason to distract his battle brothers just yet. Finally, the massive drum magazine he had fitted to his weapon ran dry, and the boltgun made an angry click, reprimanding him for his lack of focus. He dumped the drum and fitted a new one faster than most might had been able to react, reloading as he changed positions. Taking two strides forward, Marbas planted his left foot on a pile of rubble, and deployed the bi-pod on his rifle. Propping it on his knee, the Dark Angel resumed firing, using his more stable perch to reach out further and mow down more of the foul xenos.

"Off-guard, perhaps, brother, but still coming." he observed to Uriel. He didn't know what it was like on the Sergeant's side of the drop pod, but clearly he had gotten the side that faced the bulk of the enemy, a thought that thrilled the warrior to no end. His boltgun roared ceaselessly as a pack of filthy aliens poured out of a trench, rushing the Astartes for some madness-driven reason. Two dozen or so bolt rounds ended that notion swifter than most could think, spraying blood and earth in all directions as the enemy was cut down like grass before a scythe. So violent were the explosions, that despite the distance between the combatants, Marbas still found his grey armour painted with new and interesting patterns in xenos blood. "I think I should have brought more ammunition." the marine observed over the vox. He was only partially joking. He surveyed the rather interesting scene before him, returning fire as he did so. There really were a lot of enemies out here, and that would explain why there was so much difficulty here. Xenos could defeat anything if there were enough of them. He thumbed the selector switch on his botler and shouldered the weapon once more, bracing his left elbow on his knee to steady his grip further. Conservation of the Emperor's wrath seemed only fitting now. As much as he loved the roar of a boltgun on automatic, such a thing could easily prove wasteful until the xenos began to swarm in earnest. Marbas began picking his targets, watching limbs and heads explode as he reacted to each shot directed at him. He was used to being the Emperor's hammer, but it seemed that this time, he would be serving as the very tip of His spear. That called for a change in tactics, but nothing drastic. Nothing that couldn't be fun if he tried...

[Grothnor]

"Fortitudo Imperatoris benedictus, qui docet manus meas ad proelium et digitos meos ad bellum."

Rayvius Skalterion mouthed the prayer in the drop-pod, affirming his oath to battle in the Emperor's name. The reverse thrusters had just kicked in and he knew the time to wage war was once again at hand. He checked his bolter for the seventh time and curled his hand around one of the grenades at his waist.

"Inclina caelos tuos, Imperatoris, descende: exquisíta in omnes voluntátes ejus."

The drop pod slammed into the earth of Erinyes, the hatch opened with alacrity as Rayvius surveyed the immediate situation. Their enemies were Tau, xenos renown for their overwhelming firepower, their foreign strategy and their deluded zeal in the heathen belief in a 'Greater Good' other than that of the Emperor. There were six tau fire caste 'Shas'la' in front of him and one 'Shas'ui', accompanied by a Gun Drone, a heretical piece of techno-heresy; a semi-sentient and thoroughly alien interpretation of the ancient Men of Iron. They were severely disoriented by the concussive force of drop-pod's landing, and the blue spatter covering most of the alien squad hinted that one of the xenos had been crushed by the pod itself.

"Fulgura coruscationem, et dissipabis eos: emitte sagittas tuas, et consumerem eos."

He let fly his grenade, perfectly cooked, into the cyclopean helmet of the xenos sergeant, shredding him and his gun drone into gore and mechanical components. He fired five rounds off in rapid single shots; the shells blew off limbs and heads, and opened chest cavities to air in sprays of blue mist. His immediate surroundings secure, Rayvius took a brief moment to survey his surroundings beyond the first dozen meters. Lasfire arced from his right and blue pulses riposted from his left.

"Libera me et eripe me de manu filiorum alienorum, quorum os locutum est vanitatem, et dextera eorum, dextera iniquitatis."

He turned to his left and located the closest xeno, eliminating him with a precision bolt between the shoulders. He repeated this again and again and again. He could fanitly hear cries of exultation from behind him.

"Beatus populus, cui Dominus est Deus Imperator."

[HeySeuss]

"Keep pushing brothers," he told the squad over the vox as he pushed forward, coordinating his bolter fire with Marbas'; the other marine stopped firing to reload, Uriel gave the Xenos a new barrage to think about, but then the firing slowed as the Xenos did.

They were caught in a trench system now, and had a moment, though it was a fleeting one, to regroup.

"Imperial Stormtroopers," the vox cackled with a female voice; she clearly did not understand who her saviors were, "this is Captain Agatha Kostas of the 4th Katis regiment. You are just in time, the Xenos have managed to disable the anti-aircraft defenses covering the western sector of the shrine. Your landing craft dropped you in proximity to xenos staging area for their heavy support craft. You need to neutralize those support craft or we will be cracked open by their missiles. They are currently not operational, but I advise haste. If those vehicles take off, they will doom us." Calm voice, but female, reading off the facts, "the targets are northwest of your position, and the landing pad is ideal to mark for reinforcements."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Have faith, we are not stormtroopers. We are Battle Brothers of the Dark Angels. We will accomplish the mission," Uriel advised over the vox, even as he indicated the direction for them to take, "Brother Rayvius, you are point. We seek a landing pad with Xenos support craft."

[Grothnor]

The order was given, and Rayvius strode forth, picking his targets and bringing swift death. Within seconds, he had racked up a dozen more kills. He could hear the cries of those he didn't kill outright, and smiled: one of the wounded tau was crying out to a his squad, betraying their neatly hidden position behind a ridge. They were obviously trying to ambush his Battle-Brothers once he passed. A frag grenade over the ridge saw an end to that. He jogged up to finish off the survivors, but spotted a much more deadly threat just over the ridge, and called it out to alert his Brothers.

"XV88! Get down!"

It was one of the newer models, the one that carried a single railgun in both hands, a more deadly threat than the older model with the railguns mounted on its shoulders as the pilot could aim its primary weapon with more accuracy. Rayvius ducked as the ridge top exploded in a shower of dirt, followed microseconds later by the hypersonic crack of the projectile's passing. It took only one hit from those to end even an astartes, and were some of the most deadly tools used by the accursed tau. Ray leapt clear of the explosion, unharmed by the railgun, but dogged by Broadside's shoulder mounted plasma rifles. The twin-linked railgun began to whine as it readied a second shot. Rayvius dove into a nearby trench as the hypersonic crack followed him in.

Rayvuis was unharmed, but his choice of cover was occupied by tau. He dropped his boltgun and drew his bolt pistol and combat knife, assessing threat values in split-seconds. The xeno sergeant was first to go with a bolt between the eyes; his plasma carbine could be wielded with much more dexterity in close quarters. A handful of the fire warriors charged him, using their long rifles as clubs to little avail, only buying time for their comrades to flee. Combat knife and bolt pistol saw to their end. Another hypersonic crack rang out, this round not aimed at him. He retrieved his boltgun and readied himself for the next crack, preparing to lay down fire on it after its next shot.

[Reialgo]

Hakael was swfitly joined by the rest of his squad as they were allowed a brief moment of respite, he noted that Brother Marbas had already expended one of his extensive bolter drums, he wouldn't be surprised if a majority of the bolter sounds from before was from his gun alone. His voice splutered into life and he couldn't help but crack a smile under his coned helmet as Uriel delivered the good news, the defender's reinforcements were more than they could have wished for.

And thus ended their pause, with their new orders given, Brother Rayvuis vaulted over the trench they were holed up in, plunging straight back into the fray with his brothers close behind. Again blue bolts of plasma flew towards them but while the volume of firepower was impressive, it was lacking the precision required to pin down the armoured targets moving tactically through the battleground. Unfortunately for the xenos, the Space Marine's return fire was the opposite, short bursts of deadly accurate bolts were release from the four boltguns each landing precisely where they needed to, each killing with unbelievable efficiency. While Hakael could not engage in the flury of melee thanks to opposing firepower, his aim made up the body count.

However it seemed the Xenos had quickly reacted to the marines behind the scenes, and decided that if handheld plasma rifles weren't working, then their attack required a bigger gun. Thanks to Brother Rayvuis keen gaze the cannon fire's surprise was thwarted, but it was an impressive show of force regardless.Hakael threw himself behind the biggest nearby piece of cover, a ruined wall that looked like it would survive 30 seconds of targeted rifle fire at best. Unimpressed he stood back up and peered over his flimsy protection to see the large suit striding towards their position, grimacing at the fact that it sported shoulder mounted plasma rifles to boot, less powerful than it's massive mainhand weapon, but more than enough to deal with a marine. At best they had uriel with his grenades, but that would require closer range than the suit was currently allowing. It seemed momentarily confused at the loss of it's previous target and Hakael took advantage of this to let loose a torrent of bolts, though his target's heavy plating shrugged it off as if it were nothing. "It's almost like a walking tank" He noted over his vox before rushing from his previous cover as the battlesuit's gun destroyed it and a fair amount of rubble behind it. It was clear that Hakale could not last long if held under it's red glare, but the suit's cannon needed some sort of cooldown, plenty of time to make a move.

The xeno seemed spurred on by the appearence of their walking tank and renewed their attacks with increased vigour, if Hakael had to admit one thing, the creatures knew where to find damn good ground. He rushed towards the nearest source of gunfire, a few long barrels poking out from a much sturdier clump of rubble, and rounded the corner before the battlesuit could fire upon him with a clear shot. His bolter silenced the first, and he pushed the limp body into the other two warriors who were lined up for the slaughter, forcing their backs to the ground. Stomping his heavy foot upon the small squirming body pile, he pointed down and fired with impunity.

[Sarpedon]

Marbas advanced as the order was given. Uriel declared that Rayvius was on point. A good decision if ever he had seen one. He watched as Hakael followed the leader closely. The last in line was always Marbas. The marine refused to let anyone fall behind, his sense of brotherhood was strong. That, and he really liked having nice long firing lanes; being used to heavier weapons did that to him, and old habits died hard. He scaled a little pile of rubble that gave him an even better view and rapidly, even violently, emptied half a drum on semi-auto. But every shot was a lethal one, despite the fury in his marksmanship. He had his bolter firmly by the pistol grip, and the left leg of the bipod as he fired, giving him a nice stable grip on the thing for firing on the move. It was also ideal for longer shots given the lack of stable platforms about. With only his iron grip, he made do. Unfortunately, in making do, he had lagged behind just a little, and he dashed to catch up. Thankfully, however, he hadn't caught all the way up when he realized that there was a Tau mech rushing the rest of his brothers. The thing had crested a blind ridge. Rayvius called it out in a timely manner, of course, and the astartes acted immediately, mag-locking his bolter to his thigh and grabbing a pair of blind grenades, which he lobbed as hard as he could toward the thing. The first one burst nicely right in front of the machine, providing a thick screen, and temporarily blocking its sensors as the thing tried to light up one of his squadmates. The second grenade went off in mid-air, bursting just as perfectly right in front of the mech, screening its advance. The thing was blind now, and the clouds were small enough that its location was easy enough to discern, even though it was completely obscured by the cloying mixture of smoke and chaff that hung steadfast in the air.

Everyone was scrambling for cover and doing their best to ruin the pilot's day, and Marbas was no exception. However he wasn't in need of cover just yet. The Tau walker hadn't gotten a bead on him before the grenades had gone off. That hadn't stopped it from trying to light up both Hakael and Rayvuis, though. Both warriors had wisely taken cover before getting blown to pieces. And now its targeting systems were having an awful time, so it was time to strike, time to show the pilot who was in control here. There were still plenty of regular firewarriors about, though. Their counter strike had to be swift and merciless. Marbas would start them off with the first thing that came to mind. With the battlesuit waving its guns about, cutting through the cloud that had stopped it dead for an instant, he had to do something. That something was toss a plasma grenade toward its feet. Then he made the critical realization that the big guns had lured him to where the smaller guns could light him up quite happily. Not so worried about the small-arms fire that was chewing up his breastplate, the marine took a knee and returned fire before the enemies more serious rounds found their way to his helmet. He stayed still for just long enough to clear a nearby shell-scrape so he could avoid getting any kind of backlash from either the grenade he had thrown, or the battlesuit that had to deal with it. Neither sounded particularly pleasing, though he'd tangle with plasma long before he would let the xenos get away with anything.

The Tau who had to give up the trench were obviously not pleased. It was understandable, though. The four of them each got a bolt round to the head. The proximity of the xenos to the astartes, however, meant that the rounds didn't even have time to explode before they were through the squishy alien skulls and into the ground. The kicker charges rammed the bolts right into the brains of the firewarriors, and the rockets ripped them the rest of the way through. Burnt blue blood and fried xeno brains now thoroughly coated Marbas and he chuckled. So much for camouflage patterns. He was almost certain that the machine spirit was chuckling with him. It liked to see the xenos and the heretic die as much as any astartes. To add insult to mortal injury, the fresh corpses were crushed under his weight as he combat-rolled into the trench, poking his head out the other side to provide more fire support to the squad's flank. The last thing they needed was a surprise attack while a battlesuit rampaged around in between them.

Indeed, a small group almost pulled it off. Not that they could do anything. A small group of Tau, leading about the same number of drones was trench-hopping to get into position. Marbas chuckled, smiling as he picked off a few of the drone operators. Then, firing his bolter one-handed, he fiddled with a blind grenade with his free hand, tossing the thing toward the group. He netted four more kills before the explosive went off, scattering haywire chaff and infrared blockers everywhere within the cloud of smoke. Only two drones were left, if the explosions inside the cloud were anything to go on. Machines really didn't like that stuff. But they disliked the Emperor's fury even more. The last of the warrior's drum ripped through the air where the enemy had been. There was nothing left of that attempted ambush, and the marine turned back to his brothers, hoping all was going well with the battle.

"How's it looking, brothers? Are there going to be more of those things?" Marbas would be happy to redistribute some ammunition on the fly if they were going to be facing more of those things, or even other nasty targets. If it had occured to him, the space marine supposed he could have just tried out a drum of kraken rounds on the battlesuit. He supposed he still could if it was going to be a problem. No sense wasting them on regulars, though. The Tau's armour wasn't designed to stop much more than a slap, it would seem...

[HeySeuss]

Uriel moved with Hakael, hurling a frag grenade when it became necessary, and hopefully clearing the fire warriors from covering the battlesuit -- he intentionally spread himself at the flank a bit to try and turn the armor and give a battle brother a shot with a krak grenade. It was a high risk scenario, and he knew that he would be in for it when a couple of the fire warriors picked him as their target. However, his armor was better than their armor -- a singed pauldron or two was all he took while the bolter fire he gave in return left more bodies in the wake of the squad as it engaged.

In the distance, he could see their objective, the one the Imperial Guard assigned them. They just had to kill this robotic armor suit quickly; they could have called naval bombardment down from the Repentence, but that would have destroyed much of the landing area that they intended to use for the Imperial Guard -- uneven ground, blasted into superheated glass, would not have been a very good option for a landing, which meant that they had to push a little more.

On the other hand... "Firebase, you need to feint an attack now," he told them over the Vox, "as we have the objective in sight, and are about to destroy it. But you must provide some distraction for the enemy and draw their forces off of us in order for us to complete the mission. Fire whatever you have, even if it requires that you expend your last ammunition, but let it all fly."