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Ia! Ia! Cthulhu Fthagn!
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Seven weeks have passed since the plea for aid from battlefleet Zermund was received. For seven long weeks half of the 4th company sat idly while the ork menace only grew., until the Crimson Dawn finally came out of the Warp. She was supposed to be greeted by battlefleet Zermund but the scanners could not find any trace of it, like it was not enough already scanners showed ork activity on the planet Ulzor IV already, the Crimson Fists were late, but not to late. At first it was recommended to bombard the whole plant as it was not of high importance but then a transmission from the planet came.The transmission came from space marines, remnants from battlefleet Zermund. The marines informed the Crimson Dawn that many civilians were still alive on the planet, but before finishing their report the communication was cut. This campigen was already marked with bad luck from the beginning. Captain Ardias Syth commander of the Crimson Dawn and this half of the 4th company gathered his soldiers in the hangar to make a pre battle speech to raise moral. As all the marines gathered in the hangar area Ardias spoke, "Brothers, today we shall bring the fight to our hated enemies!", many impatient marines cheered. "The Waaghh! must be stopped before it gets out of control and overruns the whole sector. We as the Crimson Fists have a bloody history regarding the orks and today we shall strike at them just as they did it time past. Brothers you have little time to prepare, remember There is only the Emperor", and everyone yelled out "He is our shield and protector!"

All of you return to your business after Ardias have finished his speech. You continue doing whatever you were doing before. After about ten minutes you all get a message from your sergeant through the vox to gather in the barracks for a quick briefing of the mission ahead.
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Brother Ramirez - You and Brother Laertes , are training in close combat in one of the several barracks on the ship. You both decided that you would use only your combat blades to test each others worth and skill. Ramirez you are younger and more eager then Laertes but he on the other hand is far more experienced. After a brief battle you are interrupted by Captain Ardias's call. Once Ardias has finished his speech you see Laertes nearby. Will you ask him to continue the training or will you go someplace else. At any rate after about ten minutes you get a message through the vox to come back to the eastern barracks where you will be briefed on the upcoming mission.

Brother Orthus - You are the shooting range with Brother Kalon and Brother Lestron. You are training on normal targets with Kalon while Lestron is training on heavier targets which wont be destroyed as easily. You are interrupted by the call to gather in the hangar and all of you go there to hear Ardias's speech. Once you have finished you have pretty much free will of what to do but after about ten minutes you are being called to the eastern barracks to be briefed on the upcoming mission.

Brother Apothecary Ferenski - Ferenski you are in the medical lab, treating some people who claimed to have headaches. They are probably just faking it to get away from work. Its your choice to either confirm their "illness" or decline. At any rate once you have finished with them you are called to the hangar to hear Adrias's speech. Once he finished feel free to roam around the ship or do something but alas after ten minutes you are called to the eastern barracks to hear a briefing on the upcoming mission.

Brother Kalon - You are training on normal targets with Brother Orthus while Brother Lestron is training on heavier targets which wont be destroyed as easily. As you finish firing your last bolter ammo you hear a message calling everybody to the hangar. You arrive there to hear Captain Ardias's speech. Once he have finished you are free to do whatever you want, but after ten minutes you get a message through the vox to come to the eastern barracks so you could be debriefed about the mission.

Brother Lestron - You, Brother Kalon, and Brother Orthus are in the firing range. You are practicing on heavier targets while they are practicing on normal ones. You fire your melta gun destroying the heavy targets with ease even though they are harder to destroy. You are still a little new to the weapon thus you are missing a bit but its nothing serious. You here a call for all marines to gather in the hangar and once you arrive there you listen to your captain's speech. Once the captain finished his speech you are free to do whatever you want but after ten minutes you are called to the eastern barracks to here a briefing on the upcoming mission.

Brother Laertes - You and Brother Ramirez, are training in close combat in one of the several barracks on the ship. You both decided that you would use only your combat blades to test each others worth and skill. Ramirez is younger and more eager then you are but you are far more experienced then him thus probably giving you the upper hand. After a brief battle you are interrupted by Captain Ardias's call. Once Ardias has finished his speech you see Ramirez nearby. Will you ask him to continue the training or will you go someplace else. At any rate after about ten minutes you get a message through the vox to come back to the eastern barracks where you will be briefed on the upcoming mission.

Everybody: Express your thoughts on the upcoming mission. How do you think you will fare on the battlefied and what do you feel when you hear your captain's speech. How did the bad signs effected your thoughts on the upcoming campaign?

OOC: I hope you will enjoy this RP, I will try and make it as interesting as I can. For any question feel free to PM me, or ask me on the MSN ([email protected]). Im sorry of its a pretty weak start but I hope youll tolerate this as Its one of my first tries to GM. Cheers and good luck :victory:
 

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Laertes parried an eager thrust from the young Ramirez, anticipating the move as he had seen it many times before.
"You possess a lot my potential my brother," he spoke as he blocked another thrust. "One day you will learn the importance of planning and patience." As Laertes spoke, he quickly side stepped Ramirez, punching him strongly on the cheek, knocking the surprised Ramirez down. "Remember you have your fists, brother. Use all your weapons wisely to better destroy the enemies of man." He offered Ramirez his hand. "Try and surprise me this time!" He said with a small wink.
As they continued to spar, they heard a call over the intercom to assemble in the hanger before Ardias. Suddenly more serious, Laertes nodded to Ramirez and they made their way to the hanger. He felt a growing sense of hope that they will finally be tasting green skin blood. As he reached the harbour, Ardias began his speech.

"Brothers, today we shall bring the fight to our hated enemies!", many impatient marines cheered. "The Waaghh! must be stopped before it gets out of control and overruns the whole sector. We as the Crimson Fists have a bloody history regarding the orks and today we shall strike at them just as they did it time past. Brothers you have little time to prepare, remember There is only the Emperor", and everyone yelled out "He is our shield and protector!"

Having been silent throughout the speech, Laertes allowed himself a smile. To finally be able to slaughter the most hated of enemies and bring glory to his chapter was something he could not wait for. He felt excitement for the first real time since entering the warp. He offered a quick prayer to the Emperor and Rogal Dorn, brushing the tattoo of his father on his arm lightly.
He felt nothing of the bad signs upon their arrival. He had expected as much from the greenskins.
His tactical side knew it wise to engage the greenskins from afar, but his primal instincts wanted to test himself in the bloody melee against the foul horde. He decided to trust in his sergeants decision, and either way he would be prepared to deliver death to his foes.
As he left, he thumped his right hand against his chest in salute, and turned to march out of the hanger.
Just before he left, he noticed Ramirez, and gave him a respectful nod.
 

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Brother Apothecary Alberic Ferenski Checked His so called “patients” for any sigh of illnesses. No man should be fighting under Optimum strength. He began by checking with his first patient, who kept complaining about his headache, with his medical scanner and a quick blood sample. As an apothecary, He had all the medical files of the personnel of the ship and its occupants. Alberic took his data and walked back his patient, who was Still Complaining, and sent him off with a slap on the back and said “You’re Fine! If it gets any worse I would, as your medical doctor, ask you to check with the librarians to make sure it isn’t Daemons plaguing your mind! Have a good day!”


He called his second patient who claimed to have a headache. Alberic rolled his eyes and did the same tests. If the next patient claims to have a headache then I’ll be slightly irritated He thought to himself. The patient was also clear and Ferenski Shouted “Next!” Unsurprisingly to Alberic, He also claimed to have a headache. Ferenski looked outside of his medical lab and asked who else had a headache. They all raised their hands but became rather embarrassed when they realised what Alberic was getting at. They all left and he went back to his private medical studies.


After about five minutes, Captain Ardias Syth commander of the Crimson Dawn and half of the 4th company, which Alberic was attached to, requested the company to meet at the Hanger. He sighed, shut down his Terminal and proceeded to the hanger. As all the marines gathered in the hangar area Ardias spoke, "Brothers, today we shall bring the fight to our hated enemies!” many impatient marines cheered. "The Waaghh! must be stopped before it gets out of control and overruns the whole sector. We as the Crimson Fists have a bloody history regarding the Orks and today we shall strike at them just as they did it time past. Brothers you have little time to prepare, remember There is only the Emperor", and everyone yelled out "He is our shield and protector!"


Alberic Felt uplifted from this speech and fell into a cheerful mood. He walked back to his Medical lab and was surprised to see a scout without a hand. With a slight smile pulling on his lips, Alberic asked the scout “need a hand?” The scout looked back with Annoyance in his eyes and Snarled “yes”. Alberic Gestured for him to come and He sat down behind his desk. “Before I can give you a bionic hand, I must ask you how did you lose it?”


The scout breathed a heavy sigh and Told Alberic that “One should not juggle newly sharpened Combat blades”. Alberic tried very hard not to burst out laughing and Searched among his various Shelves for a suitable replacement. The scout frowned and asked, “wait, you needed me to tell you what happened but not my name to report it?”


Alberic, With a bionic hand in his hands, Replied with a hint of laughter “who said I was going to report it?” The scout swore and moved towards the surgical table, looking very annoyed. The operation took about Seven Minutes and The scout left, still annoyed. As soon as he left, Alberic started laughing and slapping his desk until a voice penetrated through his ear. “Brother Ferenski, You are to report to the eastern barracks immediately.” Alberic gave a slight chuckle and made his way to the barracks, humming quietly all the way.
 

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Ramirez threw another strike at Brother Laertes as it was batted away, his skill and patience a tempered steel. "You possess a lot my potential my brother," Laertes spoke as his next strike was parried away. "One day you will learn the importance of planning and patience." Frustration was beginning to build in Marcus as he sent a strong horizontal slash which was calmly sidestepped. Soon after a stiff blow struck Ramirez like a stone in his cheek sending him tumbling to the cold floor. The punch seemed to break away his frustration forcing him to keep a sharper eye. "Remember you have your fists, brother. Use all your weapons wisely to better destroy the enemies of man." Laertes grinned a bit outstretching a friendly hand to the young dazed brother. "Try and surprise me this time!"

"Seems I lost focus for a moment brother," Marcus let out a bit of a laugh taking his arm and raising to his feet, "thank you for the gentle reminder." Swiftly attempting to sweep Laertes' leg, Ramirez changed his grip on the blade striking out with his free fist sending his opponent back on his heels. The brother regained his footing lashing out at Marcus' exposed throat freezing close enough to feel the cold steel of the blade. Ramirez smiled slyly gently tapping the flat of his blade that he had slipped under his guard at the small of his back. " Excellent lesson," Ramirez let out with due respect " i do believe I'm starting to catch on." The loud bark of the intercom interrupted telling everyone to gather in the in the hanger. They made their way Ramirez catching his breath, the fight had taken more out of him than he would have hoped but only leaving a sore cheek and a bruised ego.

Captain Syth began promptly."Brothers, today we shall bring the fight to our hated enemies!", many impatient marines cheered. "The Waaghh! must be stopped before it gets out of control and overruns the whole sector. We as the Crimson Fists have a bloody history regarding the orks and today we shall strike at them just as they did it time past. Brothers you have little time to prepare, remember There is only the Emperor", and everyone yelled out "He is our shield and protector!"

The playful nature of the sparring match was washed away, replaced now with a raw seething hatred. The Captain's speech lit a fire in Marcus that would only be quenched by green skin blood. At the mere mention of the name visions of their horrid nature filled his head. Their rotten stench choking his nostrils. Marcus thought of all his fallen brothers, his chapters history and his own bloody encounters with the green menace. Hatred flowed and swirled within him. Giving a strong salute Ramirez fallowed his brothers out preparing himself for the battle ahead.
 

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Orthus smiled as he drew his gunsights across target after target, two bolt rounds eliminating each target in turn. Two, switch targets, repeat, until his magazine runs empty. In a blur he swaps magazines, fires until his magazine it emptied, and discards his bolter with his left hand, quickly drawing his sidearm with his right and planting a single round in the "head" of the final targets before safing his weapons, a litany of thanks for the war-spirit of each weapon on his lips.

Orthus looks over to Brothers Kalon and Lestron, both eagerly and systematically destroying their targets. Kalon's bolter flares and targets shatter down range, and Orthus appraises his comrade's skills. Quick, ruthless, and disciplined. Everything he expected of a fellow Fist.

Lestron is even more thorough, and Orthus can't help but show a little reverence for the venerable weapon which his brother wielded. A glance showed his range strewn with heaps of slag and warped "corpses" of adamantium and armor plating fit for a Predator tank. Lestron himself was thorough in his endeavors, and Orthus didn't try to suppress a grin at the thought of enemies of the Chapter and the Emperor burning away under it's fury.

When Captain Syth called for the 4th Company to gather, Miguel quickly returned his bolter to the armorium, rearming his pistol and stowing it on his person. He saw Kalon and Lestron on their way from the range and followed them to the hangar. As the marines of the 4th gathered in the hangar area, Ardias spoke: "Brothers, today we shall bring the fight to our hated enemies!” Orthus joined in the eager shouts of his brothers. "The Waaghh! must be stopped before it gets out of control and overruns the whole sector. We as the Crimson Fists have a bloody history regarding the Orks and today we shall strike at them just as they did it time past. Brothers, you have little time to prepare. Remember there is only the Emperor!" The assembled Astartes yelled out, "He is our shield and protector!"

As the congregation began to disperse to their duties, Orthus made his way back to the armorium, intending to consecrate his armor for the conflict ahead, arm his weapons and appease their spirits for battle, and take his compliment of grenades and melta charges. After, he intended to see the brother-sergeant about deployment.

As he reached the armorium, he saw members of his squad presenta, and made himself readily available to discuss the impending conflict. He was looking forward to ending the wretched greenskins.
 

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The Emperor Protects
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Kalon sighted the bolter down the range and systematicly but a bolt round through each target as they came in his sights. He barely felt the Bolters recoil and easily kept it under control, and fighting the urge to set it to rapid fire. Kalon was used to the large destructive Heavy Bolter, its full auto setting and larger calibre rounds. The Bolter by comparison felt almost small to him, which was far from true, the power of the standard bolter being more than enough to take on most foes. To his left Orthus quickly dispatches his targets with ease and quickly drew his Bolt Pistol to neately finish off the target with a aimed shot to the head. To his other side Lestrons meltagun let off a fiercesome blast of heat as it destroyed his target, while still fairly new to the specialist role of a melta weapon, Lestron still looked more than capable.

The slide of his bolter locked back as he sent his last round off down the range. He was about to make off to the heavy weapons range when the vox sounded off ordering them to the hanger for Captain Syths brief. He left with his brother marines add made his way to the hanger. They soon arrived and fell in with the rest of the company as the Captain began his speech "Brothers, today we shall bring the fight to our hated enemies!" Kalon cheered along with some others, punching his bionic arm into the air "The Waaghh! must be stopped before it gets out of control and overruns the whole sector. We as the Crimson Fists have a bloody history regarding the Orks and today we shall strike at them just as they did it time past. Brothers you have little time to prepare, remember There is only the Emperor" as one all gathered yelled out "He is our shield and protector!"

With the speech over Kalon made his way back to the Armoury where he collected his Heavy Bolter. Kalon was trained in all heavy weapons the Astartes could bring to bear, but the Heavy Bolter was his favoured weapon. This particular one having been with him since the day he was first inducted into his first tactical squad. The weapon was covered in flowing script on almost every surface, prayers to the Emperor and Dorn, quotes, proverbs and names, the largest and most plainly stylised script being "The Emperor Protects". He began to dismantle his weapon for cleaning when the vox again announced he was to report to the eastern barracks for the squads mission brief. Setting his weapon down he made his way to the barracks. When he arrived their he saw many of the squad already their. "Boys! Whose ready for more fun and games courtesy of the greenskins!?" he boomed out to them grinning.
 

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As he left the hangar, Laertes went to the armoury and readied his weapons. His gladius combat blade, which he had crafted himself whilst a scout. Its edge still sharp and keen for blood. His Bolter, the pinnacle of the Angels of Death, death tally markings of his most difficult and biggest kills skillfully crafted into the weapon. His knife, which had slit many throats when there was a need for stealth. And lastly, his krak grenades. Just incase, he thought to himself.
He meticulously blessed each weapon's machine spirit, and offered prayers to the god-emperor and Dorn for guidence. He had no need to clean them as he did this as soon as he finished using them.
He wondered how many kills he would tally. The thought of filthy greenskin blood dripping endlessly of his gladius was an image that never failed to please Laertes. He sheathed his weapons, and began meditation in preparation for his oncoming battle.

Just as he finished, he heard the call through his vox to assemble in the barracks. He left immediately. He arrived along with his other squad-members.
As Kalon arrived, he boomed "Boys! Whose ready for more fun and games courtesy of the greenskins!?" .
"I hope you are Kalon, I won't be behind you to save your arse!" Laertes replied with a massive grin on his face, as he embraced Kalon in a bear hug.
 

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As he was walking to the barracks, He slapped his forehead in stupidity. Remember man! Where are your weapons? Alberic Thought to himself. He took a turning to the armoury to wear his weapons would be, greeting a fellow apothecary along the way. Alberic Strolled up to his Weapons and Took his Bolt pistol. Fond memories of times he has hand with his side arm flooded his mind. The first shot of this weapon saved Alberic’s life due to an ork just about to slice him in half. Since then, He has made sure the pistol was in top condition. He holstered the pistol in the pouch on his right leg and patted it. He drew his Three foot long combat blade which glistened in the light. Along the blade were the words “Death comes Swiftly” marked boldly. Alberic Put the blade into his sheath and put a couple of frag grenades around his belt.

He continued back to the Barracks now that he had his weapons. He hoped he wasn’t late due to his own stupidity, and to his immense pleasure, he wasn’t. He quickly checked his Narthecium and reductor to see if it was working well. He heard Brother Kalon Shout “Boys! Whose ready for more fun and games courtesy of the greenskins!?". "I hope you are Kalon, I won't be behind you to save your arse!" Laertes replied. Alberic Judged on whether he should enter the conversation but decided not to. Don’t want to spoil the mood He thought to himself. He sat down quietly and steeled himself for the battles to come.
 

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Marcus made his way to the armory after the vox call to the barracks. Suiting up he let his mind calm. He took a moment to stretch, his power armor was still fairly new to him but felt like a second skin. It was time to inspect his weapons. Carefully picking up his long combat blade and running his hand down the blade, flawlessly balanced and razor sharp ready to flay even the toughest ork hide. Marcus sheathed the blade as always across his lower back able to be drawn in an instant. He practiced this movement a few times till it was second nature. His time in the scouts stressed the importance of knowing when stealth was called for, to think of what was best for his brothers. He thought of his most recent lesson with Brother Laertes, to temper strength and rage with patience and forethought.

Finishing his brief exercise he lifted the holy bolter for its inspection. Marcus had also been taught to keep his weapons in absolutely perfect working order. "We as warriors live and die by these weapons and i promise you, if you neglect them your days as an Astartes will be short." The words of his grizzled old scout sergeant echoed through his head. As always the bolter was pristine aside from cosmetic nicks and scratches from vicious combat. The name "Reaper" scratched into the side, a gift from a fallen brother. With this holy instrument of death he will reap the lost and damned that are humanities enemies. With this thought he armed himself with a few grenades and made his way to the barracks where the others had already gathered.

He heard Kalon shout out with thunderous enthusiasm, "Boys! Whose ready for more fun and games courtesy of the greenskins!?" Marcus grinned taking his place among the others. It was good the moral was so high. Bear hugging Kalon, Laertes let out,"I hope you are Kalon, I won't be behind you to save your arse!" Marcus laughed along with the others waiting patiently for the briefing.
 

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Orthus wandered over to his squad brothers and slapped a hand on Laertes shoulder. "Better be sharp or it will be your arse in the fire, brother!" he finished with a bark of laughter. "I assume the brother-sergeant is on his way? I'm rather looking forward to getting into the wretches." He made a show of clenching his crimson left gauntlet before the assembled Astartes. "My weapons thirst for the blood of the foe, and the orks do not wait to wage war."
 

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Ia! Ia! Cthulhu Fthagn!
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Sergeant Uriel Hoth was on his way to the armory, he expected that every single squad member will be there. As he arrived he saw Brother Kalon shouting,"Boys! Whose ready for more fun and games courtesy of the greenskins!?". Soon Brother Laertes joined the rest of the squad and said, "I hope you are Kalon, I won't be behind you to save your arse!". Hoth grinned and then the final member entered, Brother Orthus, he slapped his hand on Laertes's shoulder and said, "Better be sharp or it will be your arse in the fire, brother!". "I assume the brother-sergeant is on his way? I'm rather looking forward to getting into the wretches. My weapons thirst for the blood of the foe, and the orks do not wait to wage war."

"No, they don't." Hoth stepped out of the shadows, his bolter on his back, his pistol strapped to his left leg and his combat blade clean and in perfect shape strapped to his waist. "Orks don't wait to wage war, they are already there as far as we know.", Uriel Hoth stepped in front of his squad looking at each one, they were all eager for the fight, each one in an other way. "OK, form up in a half circle pattern and Ill brief you." Once the squad formed up he began briefing them. "This time we wont be dropping by a stormbird as it attracts to much attention and we want the element of surprise on our side. We will be dropping by drop pods.", some of the squad sighed when they heard that they will be using drop pods. "Yes... I know that its your favorite matter of transportation. Now listen we will be dropping near the city from where we received that transmission from the remnants of the battlefleet. We will take this orks by surprise and crush them to dust!", Hoth said, slamming his fist against his power armor. "If you have any questions, ask them now, if you don't have any go and prepare yourselves we have less then forty minutes until drop. This will be your free time, after this forty minutes meet me at the hangar where we will commence the attack along with several other squads." After answering the questions that were raised Hoth turned and marched out of the room leaving his squad to prepare.

Everyone: You have forty minutes now to prepare yourselves, with the time left feel free to do whatever you want. Interact with each other if you wish or just simply prepare and wait for the time to pass. After this point there is no turning back to the ship, so do what you want aboard the Crimson Dawn because you probably wont have another chance.

OOC: We are going to war!:drinks:
 

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Laertes nodded to his Sergeant as he walked off. He wanted to take the fight to the Orks now, the longer he waited the more chance that Imperial lives were being lost. He was not one who sighed at the drop pod notice. Unlike many of his brothers, he loved drop pod descents. Just the pure adrenaline rush, and the thought of landing in the midst of the enemy, having to slaughter his way out of the drop pods doors simply exhilerated him beyond measure.
Turning to his assembled brothers, he asked "So who is going to try and kill more Orks than me then?" In a joking manner.
 

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Orthus smiled. He missed drops from Thunderhawk by jump pack, but his days in the assault squad were over. He'd have to make do with a storm of gunfire as he disembarked from the drop pod.

"So who is going to try and kill more Orks than me then?" Orthus turned and saw the smile on Laertes face, replying, "Ha! I'll do just that brother, and with blade alone! Try to keep up once my bolter is drawn." He chuckled as Laertes glanced at him like he was crazy.

"With the forty... nay, thirty-five minutes left, I intend to make ready my wargears' spirits, as well as my own, in the reclusium. Anyone care to join me? I'm sure the Chaplains are as eager as we."
 

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Lestron aimed and fired. The blast from his meltagun sent slag flying from the target's center. The kill was rather enjoyable, though it had taken him more shots than he had wished. The weapon still felt new in his hands, but he was becoming far more accustom to it. He glanced to his brother's ranges. Orthus was reducing his targets with an accuracy and determination of a veteran. Kalon was using a boltgun, something that Lestron had seen him practice with before, instead of the mighty fire of his heavy bolter. Seeing both brothers on the field of battle was something he longed for.
Lestron snapped a new melta canister into place. It still took to long in his mind. He needed to be able to wield his new weapon with the skill and precision of his bolter. As the marine raised his weapon again the vox called for all brothers to assemble. Lestron placed his weapon quickly back into the armory and made his way to the hanger. He finaly pulled his helmet free as he entered. The scent of incense filled his nostrils.
Ardias's words filled his ears. Lestron smiled as he added his voice to the chorus of his brothers. His Captain finished, "Brothers you have little time to prepare, remember There is only the Emperor." "He is our shield and protector!" was the reply.
Lestron's heart was lighter as he left. A smile was upon his lips. He would return to his weapon. There was time for one last target. This time his hands moved quickly. He locked in a canister. The vox sounded. Leston fired. Slag melted from the side of the target. Leston smiled, it would have been a kill. He quickly moved to the barracks, and waited for Sergeant Hoth to arrive.

Lestron watched as the sergeant left. The thought of being hurled into battle by a metal pod navigated only by a small machine spirit made him a little anxious. He knew from his time as a scout that the element of surprise was a formidable weapon in itself. Already he knew there would be praying until he finaly placed his feet on solid ground again.
"Ha! I'll do just that brother, and with blade alone! Try to keep up once my bolter is drawn." Lestron laughed. "But what will you brothers compete over when the gretchen are gone," he asked in jest. "Perhaps you can follow the trail I shall blaze through them looking for something with a little more metal than skin." He could already feel the sharp glances.
"With the forty... nay, thirty-five minutes left, I intend to make ready my wargears' spirits, as well as my own, in the reclusium. Anyone care to join me? I'm sure the Chaplains are as eager as we." "I will join you brother," Lestron quickly replied, "as soon as I have gathered my full wargear." And, he continued in his mind, once I've finished my last target.
His arrival is almost 15 minuets and two targets later.
 

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"I will carry out solitary meditation, Orthus. I will see you in 35." Laertes thumped his hand to his chest in a salute to his brothers, and walked off towards his private room.
As he reached his room, he knelt onto the ground, and placed his left hand against his forehead. He began to quietly hymm the same words he had spoken since his full ascension to Astartes before a battle against the Greenskins. He spoke litanies of hate, sorrow, remorse, and vengeance. He vowed to give no quarter, and slaughter his bodyweight tenfold.
As he finished speaking, he had 20 minute left. With the last 20 minutes, Laertes performed some quick bolter and close combat drills, making mental notes where he was not perfect so he could better prepare himself later.
With 5 minutes to spare, he carefully engraved the name of the below planet into his Gladius, and walked towards the drop pods.
 

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Alberic Stood up and nodded to the sergeant. With his mind focused and ready, He walked to the Medical lab and sat down behind his desk. He decided to store his latest medical files he was researching into his compact data pad and clipped that onto his belt. As there were no patients to attend to, He Dissembled his bolt pistol and cleaned each and every part. To some marines, it was considered a chore, to others, an important part of their lives. To Alberic, he just did it as it took his mind off past mistakes and losses. He did his job best he could but every time he failed to save a brother’s gene-seed, it felt like it was his own fault for failing.

Alberic sighed, reassembled his bolt pistol and holstered it. He decided to throw up some images of forests and mountains to admire and ponder. For some reason, Whenever Alberic looked at the images; he felt an inner peace and calmness. Alberic checked the clock. Twenty Minutes left… Hope nothing bad happens soon… Thought Alberic. Taking down the images, He turned off the lights and left his medical lab to stroll through the Crimson Dawn.
 

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Laertes was the first to reach the drop pods, where he stood in silence awaiting the rest of his squad. His frame of mind had changed entirely within the past 40 minutes. Laertes changed from the charismatic, joking man into a merciless, brutal, and tactical warrior.
He steadied his thoughts on the coming battle, checking his weapons once more and making sure they were secure on his person. He quickly rubbed off a large smear of gore that covered the chapter insignia, as whenever he fought an enemy he wanted them to know who it was who killed them.

Laertes remained in this frame of mind as he awaited the rest of his squad.

OOC - As a tactical squad is 10 men, are you going to have these as NPC komanko? Or are we an under-strength squad? Also, does the squad have a name?
 

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Orthus remained contemplative throughout his pre-battle meditation. The Chaplain had led them in the most appropriate liturgies of battle, invoking the Emperor's protection over his bravest sons who descend as steel rain. Upon finishing the consecration of his weapons, he turned to leave. Pausing only to salute the figure if the Emperor at the alter, fist to chest, he strode from the Reclusiam and proceeded towards the drop bay.

As he walked the halls of the Dawn, he crossed paths with Alberic on his way from the apothecarion. "Ready for battle brother? Sergeant Hoth awaits us. Let us get to the launch bay with haste. I am all too eager to meet the foe." Receiving a nod in return, he led the way to the drop pod hangar, bolter locked on his power plant, pistol at his side, and blade sheathed at the small of his back.
 

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Brother Lestron knelt quietly as the liturgies were spoken. He had arrived later than the others, but had joined without interruption. Many of the litanies he knew by heart. The first time he heard many of them seemed like centuries ago in another life. Lestron could still see the faces of those men who spoke them. Some he had brought food and water too, others he had carried extra clips for. He was sure they had all died upon the anvil of battle to forge the worlds they had fought for. They were surely heroes of the Emperium. He stepped forward, as did all the brothers, to have his weapons blessed and consecrated.

After the preparations had been done, the blessings made, and the litanies were spoken each man set out for their task with new fervor. Lestron turned to the altar. He saw Orthus salute. The memories flooded back his father, his time as a scout, and all the brothers he had seen on the field of battle. Lestron’s face twisted as his thoughts changed. There was no longer fear of the drop, or thoughts of the ill omens that had already shown themselves. His mind was steeled for war, his only thought was to bring swift and unyielding wrath to his enemies. He bowed before the statue and saluted as he had seen his father do so many times, as he had done so many times.

Lestron held his weapon proudly as he marched to the drop pod. There was no fear in his mind of this voyage; there was no room for it. As he stepped to his position he whispered to the machine spirits within his wargear. He promised these spirits of war true enemies, not the simple targets that had been used over the long voyage.

He smiled as he waited rigid as a statue. They would be dropping into a war zone. Into the forge of battle and the chaos of conflict they would fall. Lestron felt more at home already.
 

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Marcus sighed as the sergeant left the room. "Drop Pods." he thought, never liking the idea falling out of the sky like a meteor. Making his way out of the barracks and down the halls and corridors to the hanger he prepared his gear and himself for the mission ahead. No matter the disorganization or crude nature of them the green skins were not to be underestimated. There was something to be said of an enemy that would consider crushing you under the weight of their own dead a victory. None of this scared Marcus only honed his focus. Arriving at the hanger seeing the others gathered there Marcus took his place among them and looking over the drop pod and feeling a bit of nervousness creep along him. Letting out another strong sigh as he strapped his bolter tight across his chest and giving his gear one last once over. Letting his eyes fall on the drop pod again he couldn't help but speak with a nervous laugh, " Dorn help me i hate these damned things."
 
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