The gently shuddering of the Thunderhawk was therapeutic to Aethon as he checked his pistol and chainsword, again and again, the habit coming from a deep-rooted obsession for perfection. A quiet whine, not consistent with the background noise, permeated his ears, seconds before a huge explosion consumed the front of the vehicle. Aethon stood, and then promptly was thrown off balance and back into his seat as the Thunderhawk tilted downwards. Numerous alerts were thrown up on the lens of his helmet, and then a third explosion punctured the hull right next to his seat, the explosion ripping a ragged hole the size of a door in the wall. Looking out, the Astartes quickly made the decision to jump out of the falling vehicle. Gunning his jetpack engines, he flew out, but became immediately entangled in the jungle-growth. He was still high when his foot caught and spun him into a tree.
Aethon Tev came around quickly, and saw debris and rubbish litter the ground. Looking around, he saw himself looking at the shadowy, smoky silhouette of a vehicle about fifty feet to his right. ‘Corax’s Honour,’ he thought disbelievingly, even his Astartes intellect shocked by it, the sheer destruction that had been wrought upon the blessed vehicle. ‘So many times ...’ Shaking his helmeted head, he came out of his reverie.
++Seargeant Korvis, sir? Squad Korvis?++ he said into his comm unit, trying to raise anyone. All he got was static, so he cut his comm on. “Dammit,” he muttered, checking the motor on his chainsword by revving it gently.
++Korvis Squad? Repeat, Korvis Squad++ A doomed attempt, he knew, but he felt it was necessary to try. The dense jungle terrain pulled at his Mk. VI armour, almost as if it was actively resisting his attempts to mobilise himself.
Remembering his training, Aethon set his helmet to scan the surrounding terrain for enemy movements and also ran a status check on his armour, ensuring he was fully protected against whatever was out there. An alert blinked on his screen, a message screamed across his neural receptors. In an instant, he was on his feet, processing the scene and battle-ready. Endorphins ran through his body, and the thrill had him on the balls of his feet, seeing everything and processing it even quicker than his adopted physiology usually allowed. Aethon made his way to the rest of the squad, gathering his wits and coming to terms with the fact that some of his brothers wouldn’t live to fight again. ‘Three of them ... Three.’ The thought didn’t seem to process, no matter how many times it raced through his head.
He heard Korvis’ order, and it shocked him out of his reverie. “Yessir!” he responded, far more enthusiastically than he felt, before moving to the broken body of Kai, quickly stripping him of his armour to remove the geneseed. “Emperor be with you,” he murmured, before doing the same with Reynon’s, leaving Lenux, the only dead squad member that Aethon wasn’t really close to, for Korvus to tend to. Whilst his hands didn’t shake as he did so, the process caused an unusual sense of numbness to settle over the Astartes body. He started to think back to previous engagements -
Aleron XIV ... Aethon lay on the ground, stunned by a shot to his helmet chest, rupturing some primary systems that had forced him to reboot his systems. A platoon of cultists approached cautiously, and he anxiously awaited his systems to start up, ready to kill them. And then, just as they reached him, lasguns and various heavy weapons primed, the sound of multiple blasts, bolts, resonated through his helmet, and then the whir of chainswords, revving as they tore flesh and armour, hit him. A grim smile crossed his face and he got the message - System Performance - 52% (Suitable) - and climbed to his feet ...
Proximity Alert - Hostiles - 2 Miles. The message flashed across his visor and through his brain, and again, shook him out of his reverie. He checked his monitors, and gathered the clips from Reynon’s and Kai’s bolt pistols. He then started moving off into the depths of the jungle, trying to do so as stealthily as possibly, constantly checking his sensors and scanners.
EDITED: IS THIS STILL OK?
Malochai von Carstein; Terror of Hunger Wood, Lord of Lichenhof Tower
Last edited by Malochai; 06-18-12 at 06:13 PM.