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Post by Jara Hellhammer on Jan 16, 2024 9:40:06 GMT
The Terminator oversaw the work of the medical probes. It was a sight that he had seen too often both on the battlefield and on home soil. He wanted to avoid his allies getting injured whenever possible, but sometimes it felt inevitable.
At the Psyker's thanks, the Salamander made a dismissive gesture.
"Your gratitude is appreciated, but unnecessary. You can express it via aiding our investigation."
Jara's gaze then followed the Psyker's staff to the heretical corpse as he listened intently to the mutant's words.
"This heretic knew of an auto-cannon? That's something."
He whirls back around swiftly as he observes the mutant's handling of the Lho stick. The improper way in which it is handled brings about confusion with a hint of disgust from the Marine.
"Hmm... Sounds like locating and apprehending the heretic's master could prove worthwhile..."
Saited with the requirements of presenting an informal approach Tetradymite could only agree with their companion. Anyone involved would requiring addressing, preferably via their methods, than Brother Jaras'. Under any circumstance the Divine light shining into darkness was the greatest victory they could expect, they were 93.675% sure of it.
"Orders - Proceed to suspect & point of exchange. Brother Jara to lead tactical approach." The calm voice came out of the deep red and black hood.
Tectotum Cognistigon Tetradymite - Factotum Grade LXXVIII of the Adeptus Mechanicus - Savant Grade XIX of the Inquisiton
It was at that moment that they could all hear the stomping of boots on the ground, multiple of them, all hurrying towards them from multiple alleys that they were surrounded by on the outside of this chapel. They all could hear the hurried steps of people nearing closer and closer to them at this chapel. Something is wrong here. Was it enforcers that had come to investigate the noise? Or perhaps someone else having heard the commotion wanted to see if they could scavenge what was left?
Who it was became apparent as they would hear the sounds of auto guns and and Lasguns loading from outside, whispered voices all speaking to each other. An assault was impending and the three men needed to prepare for what was about to come. Time wasn't on their side as they would then hear the sound of the boots all rushing again, quickly there were several men breaching the chapel in which they were residing at the moment. But it weren't foe! It seemed that these were Guardsmen, all bearing armor to that of Corinthean Guardsmen. They seemed out of breath and distressed, rifles raised and aimed at the men inside as they stood in the front doorway to the chapel. The lead man spoke out, gasping for air.
"My lord, thank the Emper-"
A shot from a lasgun pierced the mans head, cutting his sentence short. The other 3 men that had breached the room were then torn apart as they stood in an open doorway, heavy ballistic rounds from some sort of heavy gun tore one man in half while the other two were gunned down by lasgun fire. Shots were raining into the chapel from the outside but were inaccurate and missed all the other men inside, leaving just the guardsmen dead. Suddenly all the fire stopped, the initial barrage had stopped and now it was silent. The men inside the chapel might deduce that this is the work of organized criminals in the underhive, aside from the fact that everything that had just been fired was heavy and from some sort of Astra Militarum weapon. Perhaps those assaulting them were the culprits behind some of these stolen weaponry and ammo.
A few moments later, footsteps could be heard. Then, a voice.
"Check inside, this is where we last picked up on his location."
It was a rough voice and this time there were even more footsteps approaching the chapel. Now was the time to prepare.
Post by Kel'sab Melnath on Jan 18, 2024 3:27:04 GMT
"Of course.. my lords. This wa-"
He cuts off as soon as stomping rumbles on the horizon. Aside from the religious experience of the two who had just shown themselves to him, not a single person of authority had ever set foot on Kel'sab's streets in his lifetime. A fast moving, jack-booted crowd meant one thing: Someone was about to die.
The thick phlegm in the back of his throat is the only thing that stifles his surprise when the first group is suddenly mowed down. Kel'sab had been in the middle of fire fights a hundred times, but nothing of this magnitude. He'd never stood up against anything strong enough to pierce an unusually thick door, and now he may as well be in the kill-zone of a guard company.
No sooner had the Tech-Priest mended his wounds, than he gains a couple new ones. *CLINK* a bullet pierces his shoulder plate, and a las blast sears his forearm. The mutant falls to the ground like a dead heap. He barley looked alive on the best of days, and he had no concept of dignity or pride to stay standing and present a "stern and imposing front." Kel'sab is a desperate rat in a gutter and, staff still in hand, he waited on the ground, hoping the gunmen would be foolish enough to get closer to "make sure he's dead."
At no point does he think about the fact that he's the third wheel to a duo of walking death machines.
Post by Jara Hellhammer on Jan 18, 2024 8:44:01 GMT
The Terminator had just grunted in affirmation to the orders given out by the Tech Priest when the heavy footfalls caused him to keep his eyes laser focused on the doorway.
With a swiftness that had been honed over many years of service as well as constant practice, Jara prepared himself for the worst. He readied himself for any enemy that was to come through the doorway and watched the location like a hawk.
Then he found out that it was allies... Allies who didn't last longer than a sentence, which sadly Hellhammer was accustomed to. He thanked the men for their service and declared that their deaths would not be in vain for he shall deliver the wrath of The Emperor upon their slayers.
He turned to the mutant on the ground and shook his head before his focus went to the Tech Priest.
"Get ready for combat. Multiple enemies incoming. And deal with the mutant..."
His sentence finished, Jara headed to the doorway, Melta Gun in hand.
The Tech-Priest moved swiftly, faster than an un-augmented human, but no one was faster than Brother Jara, and unfortunately also a lasgun blast. They moved between the line of fire and Kel'sab, bolts of energy and small calibre fire. An invisible forcefield outlined as it deflected the incoming attacks. All done with no thought to anything but the unshared data on the heretics they'd been in pursuit of.
"Motivation - To die without purpose is not a service." Holy words to some, to others, in such a moment, perhaps empty sentiment. "Orders - Get up, provide service."
This time the Medicae Mechadendrite moved towards the incumbent form with no care, a large injector stabbing into Kel'sabs neck. A cocktail of combat and medical stims flushing into their system. The ingredients based on what was found within Arco-Flagellants injector rigs, but in a lower concentration. Tetradymite had felt accomplished the first time their combat serum had a surviving test subject, and since those days they'd worked to improve the survival rate, if not the after effects. Weak flesh could, after all, be replaced.
Rotating on their midriff, multiple Mechadendrites readying to purify more Heretical filth from this Underhive, they focused on their Tactical Display. Sharing potential target locations obtained from their Auspex to both their own and Brother Jaras' tactical heads-up.
"Confirmation - Engaging" and with that their Flamer reignited, sending Holy Promethium to start the purification, a cacophony of screams it's response. "Observation - Doorway clear, target rich environment"
Suddenly the load cracking of an Autocannons fire pierced through the screams of the impure. Rounds spanging near to the Psyker before finding their mark on his cover. A heavy burst, with multiple shots being taken by the invisible field, but not all of them. Loud metallic cracks coming from the Tech-Priests bulky form.
"Update - C-c-combat E-effectivness at 64.7 th-THR-RE-REEEEE two percent. Humour - It's only a f-f-fle-sssh wound" For once some semblance of humanity coming over the Vox.
Last Edit: Jan 18, 2024 18:43:59 GMT by Tetradymite
Tectotum Cognistigon Tetradymite - Factotum Grade LXXVIII of the Adeptus Mechanicus - Savant Grade XIX of the Inquisiton
Post by Kel'sab Melnath on Jan 19, 2024 14:55:38 GMT
Kel'sab does not think tactically, he reacts with feral survival instincts. Play dead, pretend they got you with their shots; they'll move on, or they'll get closer, either way they make a mistake.
The stench covered cockroach of a man's survival instincts, however, were developed to a survive a thug or two in dark alleys, not volley fire in a full blown battlefield situation.
Unlike Kel'sab, Tetradymite does understand the battlefield. Unfortunately for Kel'sab, his deception was effective against his ally. Veins bulge and a violent roar gurgles up his throat.
The mutant's head is lifted several inches by unrestrained lighting blasting from his eyes but such "gentle" after-effects are instantly forgotten. *CRACK* A twisted body is twisted even further as it levitates a meter into the air and snaps backwards; back of the skull nearly striking his heels. Shafts of crackling light spew continuously from eyes and mouth, doing nothing to impede a gravel and muck filled scream.
Thoughts race through the warp, exponentially beyond the speed of light. He can't cling to any coherent idea, only flashes of intention: LIGHT, FEAR, HUNGER, BLOOD, RESISTANCE, VIOLENCE, RETRIBUTION, RETRIBUTION, RETRIBUTION!
Kel'sab snaps upright again, still hovering, chaotic sparks of violet lightning splattering off his body. The veil cracks: malicious whispers fill the air, the walls begin to melt and a thousand clawing hands and screaming faces are outlined trying to push themselves through. Hate, rage and bloodlust are all he is in this moment; the psyker's will is the only rail to direct the unstoppable flow of energy and he retains a single guiding light: The Emperor.
"BURN FOR YOUR SINS!"
With no idea who his targets even are, Kel'sab unleashes a maelstrom of pink and violet lightning down the hallway. Unable to see how many he kills, there is always the possibility of "more left," so he does not stop. Roiling masses bubble up beneath his skin and begin sizzling and trickles of blood leak from eyes, nostrils and ears. *POP* Boils burst, blood and hardcore stim cocktail dripping from inside his coat. Fingers blacken and burn, nails melt away, the sleeves of his coat catch fire. The levitation stops *SLAM* the mutant's knees hit the ground and he falls forward. Smoking hands catch his fall and he begins hacking up sticky globules of blood mixed with yellow-green goop.
Still everything tells him to keep going! Bloodshot eyes, widened into perfect circles snap up to the hallway. Are there more shots? Does it matter? Warp craft exhausted, he intends to charge!
Post by Jara Hellhammer on Jan 19, 2024 16:30:32 GMT
Taking cover near the doorway, Brother Jara chuckled upon the rare spark of humanity coming from the Tech Priest. He had not expected such a jest from them, given that they weren't really that human.
Using the data from the Tech Priest, his own battle-honed instincts kicked in and he began tactically delivering the Holy Flame of his Melta Gun in short, focused beams across the enemy lines.
"Feel the righteous flames and pay for your heresy. You won't be killing anyone else on my watch, heretics"
Once again taking cover, he turned to the Tech Priest and light-heartedly let his amusement known.
"A classic joke. Didn't think you had it in you!"
Having said that, he found himself having to dodge fire from Kel'sab. Sighing in annoyance, he turned his attention briefly to the mutant.
Despite the initial impacts of fire Tetradymite stood firm. They knew what their limitations were in function, and what had been damaged wasn't critical to effective fire. The Astartes compliment one of the mirad or reasons Tetradymite preferred the Angels of Death as accompaniment in the field. As a Salamander they may even get the double-punchline, but these were inefficient thoughts and needed addressing. Pausing only to internally administer some basic combat stims they turned to the cause of the ire.
Following Brother Jaras' field of fire coverage, they covered the opposite. This time adding Plasma and Melts to the bursts of Promethium, the oversized axe ready for any closing interlopers. Targets were acquired, engaged and neutralised, their souls not even worth a moments prayer.
Concentrated Melta fire, high volumes of light weapons fire, and now the Psykers lack of trigger discipline was leaving their cover some what sparse. It was time to move, Tetradymite plotting a charge into the surrounding enemies. Looking to close the distance and put themselves, or rather Brother Jara into close quarters with whomsoever stood in their way.
One last thought before backing up the Space Marine in the charge was they hoped at least one survivor would have knowledge of the artillery shells and the associated smuggling.
Tectotum Cognistigon Tetradymite - Factotum Grade LXXVIII of the Adeptus Mechanicus - Savant Grade XIX of the Inquisiton
Post by Jara Hellhammer on Jan 19, 2024 19:09:10 GMT
Jara was most effective at close range. Using the beams of heat from his Melta gun as cover, he moved swiftly from cover to cover in order to close the distance between him and the adversaries before him.
As the Tech Priest provided additional cover fire, he nodded before heading the charge into enemy lines.
The rather manic lightning strikes from the Psyker proved to be an obstacle, a bit of a hindrance whilst also occasionally hitting their targets. Hellhammer had to dodge and weave away from the strikes a few times as he made his move.
When he breached the enemy lines, he unleashed hell upon the heretics. He was a close range combat specialist, having honed his skills over his many years of service and facing off against him up close was a fools errand.
"Time to bring the hammer down. Judgement time is now."
Having said his one-liner, Hellhammer switched out his Melta gun for his Thunder Hammer. Systematically, he began tearing through the grunts with heavy swings of his hammer, the shockwaves dealing with those not crushed beneath the blows.
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