A slightly smaller Mess

Charles: powerful in many ways, weak in others. My connection to the warp, the fact that if I do not keep myself fed properly i degenerate into a wild beast, weakness to things like pariahs and blanks, ect.

Mac: "Ain't loosin you after dragging you outta there."

Za'Thun: "It is your decision to make, lieutenant. But i would council restraint."

Logen launches himself bodilly at the primus, chainsword revving.

Jax: "Good to know. Didn't know we had kreigers aboard"

DID SOMEBODY SAY ULTIMATE BEING

.

OOC um himfea
there's things keeping him there
remember

OOC brb

OOC: I know, but I’ve been wanting to post that for ages

OOC: Hehe, he does!

OOC: Hehehe, well he is the ultimate being. Maybe he doesn’t need fat

OOC: Heh

“Have you got anything planned around the dockyard?”

OOC: One day I’m sure

Anne: Is that caring I hear in your grizzled old voice *chuckles*

Noctis: ordinarily, you would be right. But this is cult territory. We know the cult is far enough along to have spawned a primus. At this point, anyone in their territory, even on the borders, and likely even in areas outside their borders, is under their sway. And as much as it pains me, they cannot be saved.

The reivers keep murdering

Kreiger: you do not. Just me.

Mac: "Old? Fourty's old now is it?"

Za'Thun: He simply nods. "A purge indeed. You are correct in your convictions, Lieutenant."

Logen's jump pack roars as he powers down towards the primus, with the intent to pin it to the wall with his bulk. Before he can strike, with unnatural speed, the xeno dodges to the side, leaving the marine to slam into the wall, cracking the rocrete and sending up a plume of dust. Under the impact, bolts shear their heads, and the gantry shifts. This movement knocks the xeno's aim, blunting its retaliation, as needle rounds impact the thick armour of logen's shoulderplate instead of his head.

Jax: "Another of the inqusitor's Waifs and Strays, hm?"

Anne: in the imperial guard. Penal legion too.

Noctis: It is tragic... but we are given no choice.

murdering occurs

Kreiger: So it would seem. My regiment was slain on the planet below. Dishonourably torn apart by xenos cultists.

Mac: "Guess it be, at that. Make the years count lass, cause i tell you. They do not last nearly bloody long enough."

Za'Thun: "It is a mercy, in his name we carry it out. Understand me, Brother, i was never in doubt, i meant to test your conviction."

Metal screams as the gantry comes crashing down, slamming into the one below, then that ones bolts shear, and both drop together. Logen lunges towards the primus, as he scrambles backwards, Ceramite fingers grasp at his ankle, missing by inches as they fall together. The primus swings widly, desperately with his bonesword, the blade striking logen, with the very tip, in the head.

Jax: "Genestealers. Wish we'd be let loose on them."

Serah: "Quite so. We have been jailed too long."

Anne: you're damn right there.

Noctis: My conviction is strong, brother chaplain. You need not worry about that.

The Reiver Sgt has been watching the fight as he continues to kill cultists, making his way closer to the struggle.

Kreiger: Jailed?

Mac: "How old are you? Twenty something?"

Za'thun: "So is theirs, strength is important, direction is vital." *he raises his storm bolter to vertical.* "So, once more, we go to slaughter."

The gantry slams into the floor, sending up a wall of dust, and flaking rust. When the dust clears, moments later. The primus has been hurled clear, and is struggling to his feet, while Logen lies face down, ripping at the mangled steel pinning him to the floor.

Jax: "Inquisitor got us under house arrest. But that, i reckon, is above your pay grade."

Suddenly, the shabby nature of the sister's armour begins to take on a far more sinister image in the kreiger's mind

"Twenty nine"

Noctis: aye, that we do.

The reiver Sgt sees logan's predicament and, using his grav chute for a boost of speed, places himself between logan and the primus, his blade ready.

Kreiger:... I see.

Mac: "Got plenty of good years in you yet"

Za'Thun: "Your orders are awaited. They will notice us soon."

The gantry screeches as logen tries to push himself up, and the pile of steel atop himself. The Primus appears somewhat dazed by the ordeal, and places a clawed hand to his forehead.

Jax: "Best you don't ask."

Anne: we'll see

Noctis: Advance. We find the Magus, no matter the obstacle.

The sgt signals one of his men to help logan, as he charges the cultist

the kreiger nods

mac: "Aren't plannin on dyin on us, are ye?"

The chaplain nods. and presses on.

As the sergeant closes, he realizes the deception, as the primus lashes out with his bonesword.

Jax nods towards the door. "Off you go."

Anne: not up to me eh?

*advancing happens*

He was ready for this however, a shock grenade already primed in his hand. He parries the blade, before tossing the grenade at the primus' feet, using his grav chute to get out of the blast radius just in time.

Kreiger: Pardon?

Mac: "Well, my way of seein things is. man who gives up, dies a lot fuckin faster than if he holds on for dear bloody life."

as they move out into the marketplace. Mass panic erupts. A few of the crowd draw weapons, but most are unarmed.

Logen frees himself from the mangled steel as it detonates, and ignites his jump pack once more, charging into battle with renewed vigor, and no small volume of vengeance in his heart.

Jax: "Door's there. You were just leaving right?"

Anne: I aint givin up yet.

on noctis' order, the marines open fire.

Seeing this, the reiver deferrs to logen, stepping back and leaving the now stunned primus to him.

Kreiger: Not yet.

Mac: "Thats the spirit lass." *he grunts, as he forces himself to sitting.*

The bolter fire shreds the crowd. Over penetrations are common, without any form of armour, the flesh of a single human does not always arm the explosive charge. Shrapnel shreds through the bodies, and they fall like flies.

Logen catches the primus' neck in his outstretched hand, ceramite fingers closing around its throat, he lifts it off its feet, and slams the xeno into the ground. To finish the creature, he stomps on its head, crushing it immediately.

The heavyset guardsman crosses his arms. The kreiger sees on the augmetic's shoulder, is a scuffed and faded symbol in black paint. A winged laurel wreath surrounds a planet, with a one, in negative space in the planet. Written beneath is the word "KARASOV" Thick scratches make some letters hard to decipher. "You sure?"

Anne: guess so.

They continue to advance, cutting a path through the cultists and hybrids. Many of those unarmed throw themselves wildly at the astartes, attempting to slow them with their lives. it does little good.

meanwhile, the primaris have dealt with the rest of the cultists.

Kreiger: My weapon still requires some attention.

Mac: "For the emperor and so forth.... aaaah ye bugger." He swings his legs off the bed, and down onto the ground. "Wheres me boots at."

The tactical marines, and za'thun, elect to preserve ammunition, and simply dispatch them in melee, knives and fists suffice.

Logen's helm is cut along the ridge of its respirator, blood leaking from the cut. "Well fought..."

Jax: "Hop to it then guardsman." His tone is firm and flat.

Anne: where are you off to?

The primaris for the most part do the same.

Reiver: Are you alright, brother?

The kreiger pauses for a moment, before getting on with it

Mac: "Should check on... people. Way i heard it, Hera nearly blew her damn self to bits."

By the end of it, every man is covered, near head to toe in blood.
Za'thun: "Dark work, but necessary."

Logen: "I have survived worse blows." The large crack, from his cranium, through his eyepeice, and down to the rim of his helm speaks truth to his words.

Jax watches him for a moment, then turns to Serah, they talk quietly, but if the kreiger strains, he can hear.
Serah: "Was that necessary?"
Jax: "He's a Kreiger. They're fanatics. Not the type who would understand us."
*Serah gives a wordless grunt of semi agreement*

Anne: I'm coming with you.

Noctis: may the emperor bless the souls of these poor men and women. They deserved better than this.

Reiver Sgt: Glad to hear it, brother.

the kreiger doesn't seem to react.

mac: "... Can ye walk?"

Za'thun: "Their souls left long ago."

Logen: "We should move, support our brothers."

Jax: "Come on, lets have that chat with the inquisitor."
Serah takes her bolter from the table she was working on it at.
"Indeed, it has been a long time coming."

Anne: we'll find out eh?

Noctis: aye, that they did. *he seems somewhat sad*

Reiver sgt: Lead the way, brother.

*charlie boy's on the bridge*

mac: "Or... wheelchair?"

Za'Thun: "We will return, and burn their bodies, brother. The taint shall not linger." He puts a comforting hand upon noctis' shoulder

Logen pauses, and looks over to the rockgrinder, where Dar'asn is kneeling with the fallen marine, who bore the squad's flamer. "Brother Dar'asn...Vel'Jat ?"

Dar'asn: "He endures, brother, but he requires the apothecaries art, the xenos toxin is virulent."

Jax and Serah walk to the bridge doors, and are presumably stopped by the guards

Anne: maybe.

Noctis: agreed.

one of the reivers speaks up
Reivers: With your leave, brother, I will return him to the ship so he can receive treatment.

*the guards let em pass*

Mac: "Wait.... Ahah..." *he reaches under the bed he was on, and pulls out his boots.* "Gotem."

Ter'san: "Lead on, Lieutenant."

Logen: "No. We all go. Genestealers will take a lone astartes, Like we take orks."

The pair walk in, and serah speaks up. "Inquisitor! A word, if you may."

Anne manages to struggle to her feet while he's sorting that out

The lieutenant orders them to continue to advance

Reiver: you are certain, brother?

Charles: Ah, Serah, Jax, of course, what is it?

Mac pushes a wheelchair over to her, he has one of his sawn off double barrels in his right hand, pushing the chair.

As they move through the now eerily silent, cavernous space, they hear the sounds of claws on metal, shearing, tearing.

Logen: "The brother captain and Chaplain are capable. Our help is not required, we have a brother here who needs it."

Serah: "How long do you intend to keep us penned up?"

Anne: I... I think i'll be fine Mac

Noctis: careful. Shoot anything that moves.

Reiver: as you say, brother.

Charles: Ah! *reacts as if in realisation* yes! I have been meaning to revisit this, you must forgive me. Been rather busy of late.

mac: "Aye, but i need to lean on it, and i'll look a right tit pushin an empty one."

Ter'san: "Purestrains. Form cordon, flamers first."

Logen kneels down, and lifts his brother, fireman style onto his shoulders, awkward as it is with his jump pack, forcing him to bend his neck down, and look at the floor, he takes off his helmet, and clips it to his belt, for the extra inch of angle it allows. His face shares the scar of his helm, a ragged scar from scalp to chin, cutting across his nose and mouth, curling his lip into a permanent sneer, and leaving his nose a ruined stump. "Now move."

Serah: "Trying times." Her voice has a hint of sarcasm in it, aimed, should charles be reading her mind, towards not, deploying all possible forces.

Anne sighs and sits in it

Noctis: agreed. Agressors, watch your corners.

they do infact move

Charles: You are familiar with the term strategic reserves, yes?

Mac: "Alright... there's no stairs between here and big 'ol boss's room is there?"

The tactical marines continue to hold the rear, a staggered line, with the two flamers first, and Za'Thun taking the center, to present a barrier to the xenos.

*welp they return to the ship most likely unmolested, as the hive will be falling back and consolidating, namely to the location of Captain Raevens... less than subtle attack.*

Charles feels serah's mind snap closed like a beartrap, layered mental walls springing up, forcing him from it. "I am."

Anne: don't think so.

they continue to advance, their formation rigid and strong

*indeedy*

Charles: you have something to say? *he raises an eyebrow*

Mac: "Good, or we'd be right fucked." *he starts wheeling the chair out.*

A single purestrain genestealer drops from above, claws outstretched, and obviously reaching for Noctis.

Serah: She glares daggers for a few moments, and, dispite a calming hand from jax, placed on her arm. She speaks with a tempered voice. "Yes, one, do not read my mind, and two, i believe you two be lying."