The first mission

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Dec 9, 2019 6:32 am
OOC:
While I ask you to make sure to acknowledge (or ignore, as you wish :p ) your squad leader gesture, I'll start the next phase at the same time
After the long day of new Oaths and new duty, you are left alone to prepare for the hardship to come. As you are confronted to the reality of swearing to stand shoulder by shoulder with new Brothers, You do what you must to be ready for the challenge.

On the next day, you board the Wild Tarot a small and swift courrier vessel bearing the colors of the Deathwatch. Many days of travel lets you ample time to strategize, talk or meditate as needed before you arrive at your destination, the world of Treyan.

The ship lands a short distance of a fortified Imperial Guard Garrison and lift off as soon you disembark. You notice three squads of Imperial Guard standing beside their armored personal carrier in makeshift defensive position, looking in your direction with confused looks on their faces. Quickly, one of them order them to stand down and jog the distance toward you.

"Please forgive us Lords, the solar flares... communication around here can be unreliable and your ship must not have been able to reach the command center. I'm Sergeant Rob. Please follow me, I'll lead you to the station and again, apologies for the reception."

Sergeant Rob leads you, half running trying to follow your armoured pace, to the fortified station. The area around is barren and dusty, mark of explosive and lasgun fire can still be noticed here and there in the terrain. The Station itself is seem decently fortified, if you exclude the lack of sufficient numbers of defenders for any serious assault. As you enter the Station, the Guardsman gives you a wide berth and respectful stares. Sergeant Rob bring you all to a waiting room at the heart of the fortress and politely suggest that you wait till he contact the Adeptus Astartes in place.

After about half an hour, a unarmored Space Marine with a gloomy expression enters the room. He is big even for a Space Marine, he wears bloody research suit and you notice a necklace with a skull and the inscription "Woe betide!" on his neck. He looks at you all and acknowledge you with a stern nod before walking the the table to insert a data slate. A map appears over the table you see a region around a mountain chain with coordinate placing them in the eastern hemisphere of the planet. The Space Marine point on the map : " Here and here." You can see clearly that the vegetation is dying on both side of the mountain chain. The timestamp indicate the image as been taken only three days ago by aerial reconnaissance.

"We have a Aquila Lander outfitted for Power Armour transport and sample collection. Its for you for the next days, after that, you ask us or work around our schedule. Its in the east hangar."

The man looks at you, waiting silently for acknowledgement, questions or a nod to send him back on is way.
Dec 9, 2019 2:16 pm
Ar'Mat leaned forward over the map, his senses taking in the details in a moment and his mind working out what he is facing.
"A lair in the mountains. Likely underground, out of reach of anything short of orbital bombardment. How fast is the infestation spreading?"
That would give an indication on numbers. The Tyranids devoured biomass to add to their numbers. If it was limited to the mountain area it might be in time for the Astartes to purge the spawning pools before the numbers or more dangerous bioforms would make it impossible.
Dec 9, 2019 2:18 pm
Cloten responded appropriately to Petrix's oath order/request, holding his own fist out. He smiles broadly, heart pumping at the thought of battle with his new brothers.

During their voyage he makes sly jokes, telling inappropriate stories from days past, while going over his power armor carefully. Every inch, every joint is inspected and tested. His movements are sure and practiced, his eye keen. Of course, he finds nothing wrong today. His weapons are also given the same loving care, cleaned, tested, tightened. The heavy flamer is tested several times, the weapon's history read and reread.

On planet, the assault marine is all offense. First out the door, securing perimeter and site lines, with the energetic motion revealing his eagerness. Heavy Flamer stowed on the back of his armor, chain sword and bolt pistol locked in hand.
Dec 9, 2019 4:56 pm
Elyas hesitated before reciprocating the gesture, unsure what else to do
Dec 9, 2019 5:22 pm
Petrix spent his time before and during the flight watching and leading the squad drills of his squad. He was especially focused on ensuring that the nonverbal signals of battle-language hadn't suffered linguistic drift between chapters. He wound his squad in complex, carefully timed patterns around the corridors surrounding the target range, with nothing but hand signals, flanking and bracketing their hapless targets.

He focused on the basics, of fire discipline and trigger discipline, of movement and position, not because he did not have faith in his Squad's ability to execute them, but because he did not want to oppress them. This would be their first deployment as part of the Deathwatch, their first deployment as a squad, and there would be a certain breaking-in period before they were all comfortable exercising their strength to the fullest. He wanted to remind them, and reassure himself, that for all their individual combat doctrines, and the various idiosyncracies that their chapters encouraged, they could count on each of their brothers to act with initiative and decisiveness.

Upon their arrival, he walked off the cramped transport with purpose. His scarred armor was flanked by his squad, and he was given pause at the sight of an unarmored Marine. He squinted behind his visor, uncomfortable at the Marine's lack of battle-readiness, scanning him for signs of injury or unwellness. But he held his tongue.

Petrix stepped forwards and slotted his cartograph into the holo-table to absorb the data. He leaned forwards, looking over the reconnaissance photography, comparing it to the map. Perhaps now he could define the operational area...
OOC:
How big of an area are we looking at here?
Dec 9, 2019 10:12 pm
Nodding firmly in response to Brother Petrix, Kenshen acknowledges his leadership for this deployment in the gesture, and to his question and reassurance to his battle-brothers. It was decided, and with gear requisitioned and oaths made, they prepared for transport. The next days were short, routine hours of intense drilling with long spans of relative inaction. The stillness numbed at the senses and disquieted Ken’s mind. Rarely did the Storm Warden wander far from his heavy bolter and feeder-pack filled to the brim with standard-issue seventy-five caliber diamantine-tipped explosive ammunition. His gear painted with fresh woad markings, in the runes of his tribe back on Sacris. Ken again makes no attempt to engage the others, beyond the vital team tactical communication.

He wondered with detached whimsy if the girl he had once known as a lover was likely long dead, or perhaps a wrinkled crumbled over statue still clinging to life. How long had it been? He did not remember anymore, and it had been the death of hundreds close to him since he had last considered the distance from those beautiful summer’s eve.

By the time they hit atmo his helmet locked, scanning the readouts, and as they hit the tarmac, Kenshen fell into position near the rear of the group with both hands upon the massive machine gun. Moving in step with the others but when the reached the building Ken stops outside. An hour and a half of watching the movements of the base, he moves only to keep his joints from settling, only moving inside while giving the Vox heads up as the unarmored Marine was on approach. Standing to the back, but with an angle to the map, his helmet enables a thorough enough readout from there, let their leader do his job. It was too much of a planet for this shit, he thought to himself, wondering just what this was about.
Last edited December 9, 2019 10:21 pm
Dec 9, 2019 10:24 pm
The big Space Marine manipulate the data slate to overlap images of multiple passage over the area. The first signs of deterioration were subtle but can be observed as far as 7 weeks ago. On the image dated 4 weeks ago, the deterioration becomes obvious although no clear sign of an abnormal cause. There is attached document of analysis report of some sample, but the results are summarized as inconclusive. Starting that point, the survey became more frequents, with a new image every 3 to 5 days.

A summary look shows that the main affected area seems roughly 30 miles in radius, growing very slowly and unevenly. You also notice no sign of settlements, habitation or other presence of civilisation.
Dec 9, 2019 11:15 pm
Stein raises his fist to the others, with a grin as wide as Cloten's. "Nothing better than a good hunting to test the bonds between brothers...", Stein elbows Cloten and winks, "especially when you don't know if you'll be the hunter or the prey...."
In the days after that, Stein makes sure to try to know everybody, but stays careful during the exercises, not to unleash the beast within.
Once on the ground, Stein removes his helmet, starting right now to get used to this planet's smells...
Inside, with the yet unnamed brother, Stein tries to smell if the blood on his clothes seems fresh. And if it smells like human blood or not...
OOC:
Not sure what test I need to do. So I'll roll a d100 and you choose what characteristic or skill I'm using...
(Heightened senses (smell) is taken into account)
Per 54 / Awareness 54 / search 54 / tracking 64
Edit: at least 3 degrees of success
Last edited December 9, 2019 11:16 pm

Rolls

Unknown skill - (1d100)

(21) = 21

Dec 9, 2019 11:42 pm
OOC:
We're nowhere near the area yet, right? Let's not play 3 scenes at once.
Ar'Mat appraised the progress and the area. The lack of any sort of human population was good. If they were indeed dealing with Tyranids, as it looked to be, then denying them any readily available source of biological material was preferable. That, and Ar'Mat genuinely cared for humankind as all Salamanders did something few space marine chapters shared in lieu of looking for honor and glory. It mattered not, for all true Astartes served mankind in their own way.

He pointed out an area on the map and proposed an approach.
"We can land here, march twenty kilometers to the outer area of the deforestation, and ascertain we are indeed dealing with a Tyranid infestation. From there, we can track the foragers back to their hive where they bring they spoils, and purge it with flame. The mountainous terrain will be to our advantage. As long as they can not swarm us, we should be able to make a steady advance."
Dec 10, 2019 1:53 am
OOC:
Nowhere near the area. It is actually on the opposite hemisphere and will take approximately 18 hours in Aquila Lander to get there. Roleplay atm is catching up The departure from Erioch Fortress, the travel in ship, the arrival on Treyan and, of course, the current meeting.
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Dec 10, 2019 2:18 am
Stein points to the blood smears on the unnamed space marine, "Any info you can share from the Lictor you just dissected ?"
OOC:
If the space marine ask how he knows, Stein will simply tap his nose...
Added a Fel (with +10 bonus from mk5) roll just in case
Edit: 4 degrees of success
Last edited December 10, 2019 2:22 am

Rolls

Fel 56 - (1d100)

(14) = 14

Dec 10, 2019 3:48 am
@Stein
OOC:
Seems to me like a inquiry roll and the Mark 5 bonus does apply. Still a success, but considerably less than 4 degrees ;)
The man look at Stein a moment before answering :"Its one of the rarer genus that was found on the planet. Its most relevant feature may be its chameleonic scales, they seem to have the potential to adapt their color even in the infrared and the ultraviolet." Then he goes back to waiting silently.
OOC:
Stein gains a Fate point (up to his maximum) for acting out the Sons of Russ demeanour
Dec 10, 2019 12:38 pm
"Good news then, it seems they can't adapt their smell..."
Stein makes a predatory smile that, for those that hadn't seen it yet, shows beast-like fangs...
Last edited December 10, 2019 12:42 pm
Dec 10, 2019 8:26 pm
OOC:
Feel free to came back to this scene if we skipped anything or if you want to add/change things on the next development. In the meantime, i'll start this off with my understanding of the consensus.

Edit : For ease of reading, please use the red color for the roleplay and correction of before or in between scene.
Having answered your questions and made sure you had all the relevant informations, the unnamed Adeptus Astartes head for the door. Before exiting the room, he turns to you all, gives you a respectful nod and says in a solemn tone :"May the Emperor be ever watchful for the moment of your death.".

You recuperate the data-slate for further reference and finish discussing your approach strategy. You find Sergeant Rob waiting outside the room, acting as your self-appointed liaison officer. He offer his assistance for whatever business you have to take care of and takes you to the east hangar for your ride.

The Aquila Lander comes with its pilot, which is good for you since the cockpit and control are not sized for a Power Armour. The interior as been mostly stripped bare, leaving strap in the wall and ceiling to leave as much room as possible for a team in Power Armour. The VIP section as been refitted for secure sample or cargo transport, a small stasis field generator as even been connected to the Lander's power source.

During the 18 hour flight, there is a few hours of disturbance in the vox-system making it almost impossible to communicate. The pilot informs you that it is caused by the solar flares of the nearby star and that long range vox communication in particular can be difficult.


After an otherwise uneventful flight, you land at Ar'Mat suggested coordinates. The pilot informs you that he can stays for about 6 hours above the site before needing to go back to base for resupply and being relieve by another pilot. Before you, the area is sparse vegetation until the mountain about 40 km away. About half way there, you can see in the distance the change of coloration in the affected region. Aside from the wind, the low rumbling of the Aquila Lander engine and the metallic creaks and clangs of your Power Armour, the place is completely silent, not a single bird or insect to be heard.

What do you do?
Dec 12, 2019 4:39 am
Petrix leaned forwards on the table, seeming to contemplate the map, but giving his squad time to feel out their surroundings, and their host, and pose their own questions. Though not a whole mountain range, the swath of desolation was still a vast area, one he was uncomfortable scouting on foot. The closemouthed nature of their host also disquieted him. It was strange that he did not volunteer his name or his Chapter. He was not sure he liked the ways of the Inquisition.

After the lander had refueled, Petrix instructed it to conduct a low-altitude flyover of the area, to conduct basic visual reconnaissance. If they saw nothing, Ar'Mat's landing zone would do, but he did not want to waste time if he could cut to the heart of the enemy.
Dec 12, 2019 6:14 am
His helmet turned sideways toward the Salamander, internally cutting off his view-scrawl. The terrain was theirs if they were, but better the high ground than in the pit. "... That... is a big ‘if’, brother." Again his accent heavily exaggerating the vowels, but keeping in a so-call proper tongue. His comment was not constructive he knew, but as he said it, he could tell he was feeling... unnerved by their reception and this mission.

As the unarmored marine steps out, Ken follows him, stopping just outside the door to watch the marine exit. Being spotted and addressed by the Sergeant outside, the Storm Warden ignores his offer to 'assist him' and returns the room. Securing the door, so that the brothers may continue to speak in relative privacy, Ken was waiting for orders. Kenshen eyed Petrix from behind the opaque viewports. Surely the Raven would have a more cautious plan. If they found a nest they could bomb it maybe, but this one Kill Team was not equipped to take an infestation of any real size. As beautiful as she was, two hundred and fifty rounds was all she had, even if he had to cheat on her and use the sidearm, that only left fourteen rounds before he’d have to drop put her down to reload, and if it was that hard they’d better have something better in mind than 'twenty clicks out'.
Last edited December 12, 2019 6:23 am
Dec 12, 2019 5:54 pm
You pass a few times in low altitude over the affected area. The vegetation is slightly worst than the last picture. The trees and bushes are dry and dying, both side of the mountain chain. But no signs of of any xenos presence.

If the xenos are here, they are well hidden. Your vigilance does not waver, of course, because you know the vile xenos can be as devious as it is deadly. You find solace in the knowledge that you carry with you enough blessed firepower to raze a small army and in the fortitude forged from the experience of hundreds of battle fought in the name of the Emperor.

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Dec 13, 2019 5:08 am
As they made their pass over the blight, he glanced towards the mountains. He clicked his Vox, instructing the pilot over intercom to change the landing zone to the north side. He indicated a few extraction sites in the radius around the mountain, to observe if they needed evacuation.

He noted the crevasses in his cartograph, and leaned back, contemplating their mission on the approach. He contemplated, for a brave moment, jumping directly onto the site, but without more close-in reconnaissance, or intelligence of any kind, that would have been a criminally reckless act.

Petrix did not quite understand the game that was being played, and it made him deeply uneasy. They were but a half dozen marines. Not a magna-melta warhead, nor a company of Storm Troopers. They were not equipped, indeed, unable to wipe out a Tyranid invading force. The most he could expect the squad to do was to find and report. Bring down a structure? Certainly. Kill some kind of alien beast controlling the horde? Definitely. Insert or extract some person or thing from enemy territory? Absolutely. But to put bolts through the skulls of every Tyranid likely swarming under their feet? He could not do that. He would not ask his men to do that.

But someone wanted him to do that. Someone who did not understand warfare, and the role of Space Marines therein. That made his lip curl.

He silently stalked down the ramp as the lander alighted. The loitering shuttle was as good as gone - they would hardly be inside enemy territory in six hours, unless things went south, fast.

"Marines, we make for the mountain. There are caves there. The Lander has enough fuel to cover our approach, but not our operation. We will approach in stealth, look for signs of Xenos on the surface. Our immediate objective is to secure a base camp with a visual on these crevasses." He held out the cartograph for the others to see, the crevasses and caves he had seen on the north face of the mountain. "We will observe surface activity in a concealed camp until the relief shuttle arrives. Once we have an extraction vehicle on the deck, we will, if necessary, explore further."

"Our primary strategic objective is to observe the enemy and gauge its size and disposition, and determine if we are equipped to exterminate it, or deal it a significant strategic blow."

"Understood?"
Dec 13, 2019 5:30 am
Cloten had a rough trip. With nothing to distract him, the dreams circle his mind, replaying that awful impossible memory over and over. By the time they arrive he is ready for anything. He'd charge a tyranid horde with just his chain sword.

Still, Petrix's words drive home. Duty. Honor. Glory. His brothers needed him, and he would do his best to ensure they all survived.

"Sir, yes, sir."
Dec 13, 2019 5:25 pm
Elyas took a mental note of what was happening to the ground, immediately turning to Petrix "Sir, yes, Sir...although we may want to at least take a scan of underground. I believe that something is using the vegetation somehow. If it's Tyranids, they may be using the bio-matter to multiply."
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