V.
The rain was finally easing somewhat, though the skies remained as dour and grey as the sodden ashen earth. Garanthe removed his hat, shaking the accumulated grimy water from its surface before replacing it upon his head. He ran one hand through his short white beard and cleared his throat before addressing his team;
'Aurelius has identified our target', he began. He conjured a hololith map from a device he pulled from within the depths of his coat. The model of the nearby compound resolved before them showing towers, piping and a mass of large cargo containers and walkways. 'Here' he indicated a spot on the map, 'there is a communications array atop this structure' the indicated building was skeletal, myriad stanchions and access ladders provided a route to the top but on the whole it was open without a great deal of cover. The surrounding towers however, granted a plethora of sniping positions.'We can tap into that relay and retrieve any messages stored.' Garanthe continued, 'Emperor willing one of them will provide a clue to Alistae Carn's location.'
'Ulo, Ulk,' he continued, 'you will head forward to the array. Scout the area and eliminate any opposition. Your objective is to secure the tower, quietly. Grummond, you will circle round to the rear by this piping. Provide them cover.' The Squat paused wringing his beard for a moment and grunted his assent.
'Dolf, you'll be with me. We will take up position by these containers. Once Ulo and Ulk have given us the all clear we will move in and I will use the data thief to access and siphon the messages. Andrukas, you will accompany us but remain by the containers in all cases, we may need you to cover our escape. We all meet back here once the data is retieved. The Inquisitor switched off the map and the grid disappeared, Aurelius, I will need you to interpret the data, so stay here with Deathshead until I return. Honoured Astartes, you will be our backup. Defend the Savant, he is vital to this operation.
'This was not the agreement' Deathshead rumbled. Even with the volume on his external helmet speakers lowered it still seemed terribly loud. 'I was promised engagement with the Xenos, yes?"
It was true, the whole reason that Garanthe had been granted use of the Deathwatch was that he had petitioned the venerated Ordos Watchmaster. Approaching the ancient warrior he had explained at length the nature of the Xenos threat, the importance of combating it and the glory that could be had. The Watchmaster's impassive face may as well have been carved from granite for all the expression he showed but he deigned to assign two Deathwatch Battle Brothers to the Inquisitor's resources. Deathshead was one, the other was back on the Fist of Makius. Brother Parius was an Ultramarine, but there was no really difference between the two Astartes. Garanthe found the Ultramarian warrior to be the more garrulous of the pair if anything and slightly more grounded, but that was about it. In combat they were evenly matched. Garanthe had watched them duel multiple times. Parius was the more measured and practiced of the two, a steadier and more deliberate fighter. Deathshead in contrast was unpredictable and more inventive, constantly looking to unsettle and surprise Parius, to test his Battle Brother's stout defence. Together they would be a formidable foe, he had been loathe to separate them. They were born for combat, not to be idle.
'Patience, Deathshead,' he pleaded. 'I would see us avoid engagement at this early stage. This is recon and information gathering only. You are here in case things go wrong. I pray your Battle Prowess will not be required at this time'.
'Then you shall not mind if I pray for the opposite, Inquisitor. Yes?' the Marine responded with a slight incline of his head. Garanthe didn't respond, he knew it wasn't an actual question, the inquisitive inflection was just a part of the warrior's speech pattern. The Inquisitor gestured to Dolf and they both crept down the slope leading to the compound and the sea of cargo containers. The two Canid mutants darted a quick look at the Squat and darted off in the opposite direction. Aurelius stared impassively at the disappearing figures, muttering to himself as his styli scribbled and scratched, had anyone been paying attention they would have heard him say 'Be careful Simeon'
Not far away, hidden in the upper reaches of the tower of stanchions and buttresses, wary eyes scanned the approach to the Complex through a pair of mag-noculars. Javia Wren muttered to herself and adjusted the settings on the device, improving the illumination. She could swear she had seen something, something moving, a shadow, a shape. There it was again. There was definitely something moving out there and it wasn't any native animal. She tracked the object as it ducked behind some piping and headed in her direction. The Holy Magus, he had said they would come, the infidels, the Imperium's lackeys. He had said so and so it had come to be. Of course it had, a thousand shames on her for even a moment's doubt. She lowered the Mag-nocs and reached for her Lasrifle, priming the charge. At a glance she sent Seb who had been standing patiently at her side, to signal Krysa in the opposite tower. Their ambush would be perfect. Her order's were simple; eliminate the outsiders.
She remembered the moment well. She had been summoned (telepathically - there was no need for a physical message/messenger) to stand before the Holy Magus. Javia had trembled slightly as he conferred his blessings upon her. She had listened, rapt, as he told her of the invaders that were going to come. The lapdogs of the Emperor must be destroyed, he had intoned. There had already been intruders, and though they had been dealt with, there would always be more ever more heretics, unbelievers that would never know the love of the Yellow King. More enemies looking to prevent the Yellow Day and usurp His glory. The Magus's fiery rhetoric had filled her with a righteous fury. She had been chosen, he said. Chosen to defend the Brotherhood and see the Yellow King's will done. Consumed with divine purpose and pride she had selected her team and prepared her ambush.
She snarled as she raised the rifle and sighted through the scope. The interlopers would be destroyed. Nothing would interfere with the blessed Yellow Day, nothing could be allowed to. They were too close. Every sermon from the Holy Magus was more intense, more frenzied, more righteous. The galaxy was theirs, they awaited only the divine moment to strike. Nothing could stop them, nothing could prevent their ascension. Their destiny was ordained, she would lead this ambush and become favoured in the eyes of the Yellow King. This was her moment, her time. She located her target, breathed out, and pulled the trigger.
