The warp was a raging maelstrom of chaos and destruction, full of daemons hungry for mortal souls and treacherous winds ready to blow even the largest ships wildly off course but the Boros Paladins Strike Cruiser Candle of Faith stayed true to its course. It was a vessel of the space marines, the finest warriors humanity had ever known and the direct sons of The Emperor, the father of all humanity and the greatest man to have ever lived. So great was he that he forged the Imperium of Man for the shattered and broken worlds of the soft and lazy Human Federation. They were destroyed by their own sins and were plunged into Old Night but The Emperor decided to redeem them and sent forth his space marine legions to reconquer all that he had lost. The Boros Paladins were the descendants of those legions and today they were at the start of a great adventure. The ancient space hulk Tomb of Madmen had been found just a few light years from the Progressio system, the home of the Boros Paladins. Now its ancient secrets were open to discovery, its holy archeotech ready to be claimed by anyone strong enough. The Imperium had planned a holy crusade to secure and scour the space hulk and the Boros Paladins were to be the vanguard in this great endeavor. The Imperial Navy had already arrived and was securing the void space around the hulk. The flagship of the fleet was the INV Indefatigable, an Overlord Class battlecruiser with enough firepower to undertake an exterminatus by itself and this was the Candle of Faith's destination.

With a great rift of violet lightning the Candle of Faith exited the warp and entered realspace. Librarian-Captain Simus Psyrakon disconnected his mind impulse unit and freed his mind from the ship, relaxing into his command throne with a single exhale of relief. Guiding a ship through the warp was always difficult but it was particularly turbulent in this area, likely due to the space hulk's unholy influence. Simus could feel the eyes of many demons fixed upon the ship while it was in the warp. Hungry, merciless eyes that all wanted his mind, the mind of a psyker with the body of a space marine. He was the best of prizes to them, like a starving man would single out a perfectly grilled steak among a pile of fatty beef. But the daemons also feared his power. They knew to antagonize him would be to bring a swift and agonizing end to their existence and if they did somehow materialize to feast upon him he and all of his comrades would bring the creature death before it could say "Tzeench."

"Helm, report." Simus called out in his usual soft-spoken manner, now relaxed within the confines of his own mind.

"We have arrived brother-captain." A space marine said over the vox casters in the bridge. "The Tomb of Madmen is one hundred thousand kilometers ahead of us. The Imperial Navy has established a cordon around the vessel with the INV Indefatigable at the center of the formation."

"Very good." Simus said. "Take us within ten kilometers of the Indefatigable and request docking clearance on the port side."

"Aye captain."

Simus still wasn't quite used to being called that. He was a librarian, a lore-keeper and explorer for the chapter. A space marine captain's only business was leading men and setting an example and they alone commanded each company. The Codex Astartes had made that very clear and Simus agreed with the reasons but, as he had learned, war can create some unusual necessities. The 4th company had been left without a leader during their ill-fated drop on Bad Landing and Simus took the initiative of command. Captain Virgil Baldwin, head of the 1st company and acting Chapter Master decided Simus was worth to keep the position and gave him the rank of Captain-Librarian. Simus had argued that it was improper, that it went against the Codex Astartes and that he did not have the proper teachings of a captain. Baldwin argued that Simus had proven upon the battlefield that he knew all that was needed to lead a company and reminded him that the Codex was a set of rules, not laws. Reluctantly, Simus agreed.

A few minutes later the two ships were docked and a docking tube was fitted snugly over their airlocks. Simus disembarked from the Candle of Faith and boarded the Indefatigable with two sergeants in tow. They were greeted by a squad of Imperial Navy guardsmen who immediately knelt in reverence. Their commander, a sergeant, stood to address them.

"Greetings my lords and welcome aboard the INV Indefatigable. If you will follow us we will escort you to the bridge. Commander Elisa Mortwich, the ship's Master of Ordinance, is expecting you there along with Admiral Thomas Quinn, commander of the fleet. The commanders of several other elements are also in attendance, including the Imperial Guard, Adeptus Mechanicus and two other space marines."

"Quite the gathering." The sergeant to Simus' left said.

"Indeed brother." Simus replied. "Thank you armsman. Please lead the way."

"Right this way my lords." he said, leading the astartes through the corridors of the massive ship. A few minutes later they arrived, all eyes falling upon them.

Looking up from a data lectern from which she had until moments before been discussing with the logistician in its seat, Commander Mortwich quickly took stock of who had entered the bridge before continuing the conversation with the aide. Annoyed that a member of the crew would easily be distracted by the presence of an Angel of Death, she began to tap repeatedly on the cogitators casing breaking the spell that seemed to hold the crew members gaze and finished the conversation.

Putting away a data pad as she unplugged the neural inlays connecting her to the ships weapon feeds to better allow greater mobility and freedom across the bridge, the Commander took her place next to the ships Admiral whispering into his ear which even to those with enhanced hearing was barely audible. Straightening her uniform, Commander Mortwich stood at rest next to her commanding officer awaiting the beginning of the briefing.

While she was no stranger to most elements a vessel of the Imperial Navy might transport or have the honor of escorting, she was wary most of the Astartes. She knew from her rigorous education that they were supposed to be the best yet knew that what made them super human also removed a key part that made any servant of Terra unique, free will and their memory of what they once were. Not that she would ever say it aloud, she held a rising amount of disdain for their guests which even surprised her but kept her face neutral instead opting to watch the trio of Angels walk amongst them.

With an occasional 'tsk' or condescending downward nod of her head, Mortwich was even more disgusted by how quickly the room seemed to now revolve around the Astartes. This was the flagship, the center of the formation and held the best of the best, she had made damn sure of it and it offended her that despite years of training and decades of experience to the point that combined the ship had over nine centuries of service in the void, that they were reduced to children worshiping a toy. It was not normal, and it was an insult to the pride of the Navy...yet she held her tongue before her temper got the best of her. It would all be over soon, no matter what their guests wanted, if it proved to be what the Navy feared, she would destroy the Hulk herself if she had to and had already made the preparations at the Admirals behest to have enough charges sent with the third infiltration team in the event the space hulk was to be destroyed...

Drip....Drip....Drip....

Within the darkened halls of a long forgotten vessel, once gloriously sailing the sea of stars, now rotting forever in the void, the tedium of existence continued as it had, uninterrupted, for time unknown. The worn bulkheads creaked and moaned, as they drifted along in the massive conglomeration of lost wreckage, dubbed as the Tomb of Madmen, the pressures of vacuum once again thrusting themselves upon the massive hulk. Within the black expanses, the labyrinthian corridors and passages, silence had assumed it's dominance upon the scene, as in the depths of this mausoleum, nothing, not living, nor dead, stirred.

That this would change, came as an almost sudden realization, as within the length of a passage, a faint ripple was felt in the air, it's passage felt as the air within was stirred for the first time in mortal memory. This weak wave was soon joined by another, a fraction more imposing, and another, growing even beyond that, the focal point of these anomalies taking on a sudden change in nature. A warmth permeated the air, as the rising temperature heralded a faint tempo, a beat, a rhythm that seemed to whisper it's tune into the darkness around it. Yet, within seconds, even the darkness was banished, as faint glowing lights soon formed, like embers being kicked up by some unseen flame, their pinpricks of illumination expanding by the moment. The tempo had increased now, it's volume like that of a mortal's humming, as the chill in the air was lost, a warm sensation manifesting, as all the while, the ripples continued, faster and faster. The lights took upon shapes, their ghostly light casting an unholy radiance on the metal of the walls around it, as they faded in and out of reality, seemingly at will. Upon the cold floor, a glow joined the rapidly pulsing sigils in the air, as the gleaming metal deck spawned a circle of heat, that swiftly began expanding. The strange song continued to sing, as it's rhythm grew more and more erratic, and unpredictable, shifting and turning, pitch rising and diving, volume always increasing, strange symbols burning in the air, as jolts of power flung forth from theme. And still the rippled came, each beat echoing against the halls around it, the circular pool of melted metal upon the ground increasing in size as the hellish melody carried on. With an infernal burning light emanating from the spinning, jolting sigils that spun and floated through the air, with a circle of melted metal that continued to shape itself upon the deck, and with the constant pulsing of shockwaves through the air, the music reached a crescendo, climbing up into a magnificently terrifying climax.

And that was when the screams began.

Mournful wails, and agonizing shrieks burst through the thinned veil of reality, as the scene was bathed in a corrupted light from another plane of existence. For a moment that would carved itself into eternity, this forgotten hallway, unseen in millennia by mortal eyes, would bath in the radiance of the realm of madness, it's essence pouring into the material like a damn burst. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the lights were gone, the sigils faded off, and the music, echoing off the walls until it was lost to the silence once more.

_____

Where this fell manifestation of chaotic sorcery had made itself known, kneels an unmoving figure. His armour is onyx black, gleaming like the the glistening shell of some abominable insectoid creature, as the last rays of light die out from the heated metal below. Not a single movement comes from the stranger in the hulk, as if the vessel itself commands the intruder to remain paralyzed, forcing it's constant silence upon it. And yet, after what accounts for ten beats of it's heart, slowly, the being rises up from it's kneeling, to stand tall in the darkness.

Within his helm, The Adonis checks the HUD upon his visor, blinking away several warning runes of extreme heat, his armour still steaming from the passage he endured. The being would roll it's shoulders, feeling a burst of burning pain flow through him, where armour and flesh no longer existed as separate entities. It welcomed this pain, letting it's mind be enveloped in the sensation of agony, hellfire scorched burns focusing his mind, granting it a keen edge. This process was endured in silence, as the traitor marine would finally let loose a breath, turning his helm to gaze about his surroundings.

The area looked to be what he'd sought, where he'd been sent, yet, he could not be entirely sure, not with so casual a glance, for the mess of Space Hulks meant this could be almost any ship lost to the Warp, and to assume it was simply his through sheer luck, would be a foolish mistake. Thus, his first priority was established, to locate a means of identifying the vessel he'd entered into, checking to see if it matched with any of the identified ships within his mission information. As the first thirty seconds of his mission concluded, The Adonis would take his first steps forward with the Tomb of Madmen, striding down the crypt like hallways, each footfall without sound, each movement measured. For while the horrors of the Immaterium had blessed this fell place with a burst of it's power, The Adonis knew this galaxy had further menaces that dwelt within it's dark places. And until he had a plan of action, he had no wish to disturb them.

_____

Within the darkened halls of a long forgotten vessel, once gloriously sailing the sea of stars, now stirred a creature all too alien to those who had once sailed it. As it's predatory eyes slowly peeled open, it's claws would relax from it's grip, it's muscles, stiff from slumber, would stretch, and it would stand up from where it had been resting. Pausing for a moment, the monster's mind would be growing with activity, as around it, the sounds of other shifting forms would be heard, it's siblings waking from their own dreamless comas. Peeling back it's lips, razor sharp teeth would part, as the creature let loose a single, menacing hiss into the air around it, it's mouth slavering, one thought focusing on it's ever hungering mind.

Prey.

Drip....Drip....Drip....​

Crunch

​

The Tomb of Madmen. It was a conglomeration of multiple space craft all jammed into one, degenerate filled nightmare. A scene of unmatched aggression and violence unfolds within the confines of one of the hulks numerous bays. The room, perhaps a hangar at one point, was now littered with dilapidated containers, crates, and wrecks. Adorning said mess are the bodies of toothy mawed, many limbed beasts. They beasts lie broken and battered whilst the sound of conflict rings out from above. The cacophony of sounds are ever repeating. A snarl at first, a hiss second, the sound of a heavy thud, a wet splat, and finally, a brutish laugh. This repeats itself over and over as bodies pile. One became two and two eventually became four.


" Now dis...Dis is a proper dust up! AHAHAHAHA! "


Standing upon a catwalk is an Apex Predator. A creature that has plagued mankind for ages. What stood triumphant was an Ork and a Nob at that. A rather big one. Wide shouldered and possessed of an inhuman physique, it holds a massive axe with both hands. Its slouched, and just under eight and half feet frame was clad in a heavy suit of plated armor. Dripping from said armor was a vile concoction of black ichor and deep, red blood. The wounds inflicted upon the Ork, while deep, were placed in superficial areas. Taking a hand off of the axe, the Ork allowed it's free hand to hit the floor of the catwalk knuckles first. It braced itself there as it scanned the area, it's burning red eyes scanning for further fights.


" Join da Waaagh dey says. Fighten and Looten dey says. I says I has both right 'ere! "


Having been stranded upon said Hulk for an indeterminate amount of time, this particular Ork has had nothing to do but fight for his life. The Greenskin promptly lifted his hand from the ground whilst shifting his weight back to his feet. His feet made a heavy footfall as it went whilst his lumbering form sauntered toward the exit. Fighting a small group was simple when the proper sort of cunning was applied, even when it came to greenskins. Larger groups would be problematic, even for an up and coming Nob. Keeping the axe held with one hand, the Ork draws a crude, two barreled firearm from it's belt. The weapon was large enough to fit perfectly in his off hand. The ranged weapon would assist in the up and coming corridors that proved lethal to many.


All in all, it was shaping up to be a good day. Or night. Not that it really mattered to the Ork. All that really mattered was finding another fight.

"We should not be here. There's no refuge here."
A cursed, once proud, Astartes lamented. Matteus stalked behind Raug like a lost child, eyeing every crevice and corner like something would jump out in attack. They had banded together in the Eye for survival with other renegade marines. Now they were only two left, trapped in the hulk. At least for Matteus it felt like they were trapped.
Raugs' fearsome power axe crackled with foul power, his heavy boots stomped down one of the many hallways of the space hulk. He was starting to question how such a pathetic excuse of a space marine had ever survived for so long. Corruption had rotted Matteus' proud mind to the point of pathetic sad fate.

"Did you not hear me? We are all that's left of our band, we wont survive here for long."

He spoke again at Raug, slight fear amounting in his hearts. Raug stopped in his tracks and Matteus almost bumped into him because of it.

"M-my lord?" Matteus stuttered.
"Others thrive, others get trampled." Raug said with a chilling voice without turning around. "You are one of the latter."
"B-but we have come so far..!" Matteus took trembling steps back, starting to figure out what his mighty lord was implying.
"I've heard enough of your mewling. You're of no use to me." Raug turned around, his sunken eyes glowing with diabolical light. He grabbed Matteus by the throat and held him in place. The pathetic figure attempted in vain to escape Raugs' grip.
"Nothing but sustenance."

Matteus' screams of horror and agony echoed in the dark hallways as Raug the Cannibal indulged himself. After his dining was done he wiped black corrupted blood from his nigh nonexistent lips. He kicked the carcass aside and resumed his prowl, appetite sated. For now.

"Approaching desired co-ordinates captain Uhasi" the main astropath said, his aged voice sounding as if the mere act of talking was a task. "Very good Vikus" the giant of a man replied. Kaelo Uhasi looked out into the expanse of space in front of them. He noted the massive form of the tomb of madmen immediately in front of them, and the numerous imperial ships circling it, and, be noted specifically an astartes strike cruiser. "Officer!" He barked to one of the men sitting by various view screens, all of which displayed a seemingly endless screen of scrolling text, information that the pilots and technicians on the ship needed to ensure that everything worked to near maximum efficiency. "Officer tell me which chapter that ship belongs to. I don't recognise the symbol". The man that Kaelo had been speaking too consulted his cogitators for a few seconds before turning and replying. "The boros Paladins sir". Kaelo cocked an eyebrow quizzically. He had never heard of such a chapter.

"Open a vox channel" The astartes told another crew member before speaking.

"Attention all imperial ships. This is Captain Kaelo Uhasi of the Burning fists fourth company aboard the battle barge Prayer Of Fire. I wish to speak to all and any commanding officers" He said before nodding to one of the crew who cut the vox immediately. "Alert me when we receive a response" he commanded before striding out of the command bridge, his golden-yellow cape billowing behind him.

Another journey through the Warp, another seemingly endless nightmare.

Rumon as a Night Lord knew better than almost all that fear was always there, be you mortal or immortal there was always fear.

Within this cursed Hulk, Daemons played their games, they seemed to be mainly distracted by the more numerous Xenos within the Hulk allowing Rumon some respite from the worst of it. Twenty long years of cowering within hell from innumerable enemies.

"Fallen out of the Warp, finally." Rumon stated blandly to himself, he rarely noticed it anymore. It was the only way to have any kind of company, sometimes his voice echoed back to him. Did his voice travel the whole vessel to tell him he was alone? Impossible, but after twenty years with the Hulk seeing only his own reflection in shattered glass and blasted Xenos it started to feel that way.

"Wonder how long we have before we go back into Hell itself." Rumon began pacing around, Tyranid screeches could be heard echoing back and forth, too far away. "Genestealers." Rumon hissed, with what seemed like multiple lifetimes upon this place had taught him they were far enough away.

This place, it used to be the engine room or what passed for it of a lowly transporter for the Imperium. It's generator has long since died off, it did make a nice quiet place to settle for a bit and maybe even a bit of salvage could be gathered to keep everything of his running. Unlikely though.

Rumon checked his helmet's chronometer then noted another day passed, keeping track of his age, date he arrived and last saw any of his Legion.

He knew he had to keep something grounded and close to him, mustn't forget himself. He'd seen too many madmen in his time, in the end they all get put down, regardless of their age or importance. Rumon stared at his Night Lord heraldry as he remembered the Primarch's death.

Shrugging off memories of the past, "Best investigate where this nightmare has taken us now." Rumon spoke with a grin as he began to stalk the halls for some way to find out where the hell he was this time.

Holy Terra...it's the space marines...
The Adeptus Astartes...on our ship...
Emperor's Light...we are truly blessed...
I can't believe I'm actually in the same room as an astartes...they're so tall!
They'll crush everything on that hulk...it's already ours
We gonna get to kill anything with them around? Look at those guns!
Space marines...thank the Emperor

The thoughts of the Indefatigable's crew floated through Simus' mind. Every man and woman they passed, from brand new sailor to veteran officer had the same thoughts of awe and amazement, many of them mixed with hope, fear or anxiety. Simus took the few necessary heartbeats to listen. To gain an insight into the lives of these people. This was what he enjoyed most about being what he was. To be able to connect with ordinary people on a level his brothers never could. All of the fears, all the hopes, all the desires of everyone on this ship Simus could find and feel at any given moment. A little snapshot into their lives that told him exactly what to say to calm them down or comfort their grief. To spur them to action or to cow their foolishness. Even to expose their lies if necessary. This connection, he felt, gave him a better bond to the Imperium's people, the people he protects. The people he and all of his brothers used to be. It help him stay a little more human.

When they got to the bridge the thoughts changed somewhat. Everyone took notice of their arrival but they were less awestruck. Less amazed with disbelief. They held onto their discipline better and recovered their focus quicker. That was good. That meant they were well-trained and had good leaders. The admiral's mind was remarkably calm, giving off nothing but calm anticipation of the briefing. He was clearly a hardened veteran of the void and his body, what was left of it, was a testament to that. Both of his legs, his left arm and his left eye had been replaced with cybernetics. Compared to his natural limbs they were rather bulky but they clearly served him well and were all plated with beautiful gilded gold polished to an almost mirror shine. His eye was particularly striking, looking like a circular ruby in a golden frame. There was a thick power cable running from the left side of the eye to behind the Admiral's head, making Simus suspect a concealed hot-shot pack. The Admiral's nose and mouth were covered in a silver-plated rebreather with thick cables running to an armored plate on his chest, indicating damage or cybernetics to his lungs. Despite this rather grisly appearance Simus couldn't help but smile. Here was a man who had given his career, his freedom and much of his lifeblood to the Imperium and did it all without complaint. He was a true servant of the Emperor. He and what appeared to be his executive officer were finishing up a quiet conversation about weapons readiness as Simus and his brothers approached. He sensed an unwelcoming aura from her and her thoughts even went so far as to be disdainful of his arrival. She clearly didn't want him here. Simus wasn't sure why but she was doing her best to keep professional so he expected it was for personal reasons, which didn't bother him. It wouldn't matter anyway, so long as she did her duty.

"My Lords." The Admiral said in metallic but clear and authoritative voice "Welcome aboard the Overlord-class battlecruiser Indefatigable. I am Admiral Thomas Quinn, commander of this vessel and the fleet it leads. This is my executive officer and Master of Ordinance, Commander Elisa Mortwich. You honour us by your presence here."

"Librarian Simus Psyrakon, Boros Paladins 4th company, and and honor is mine Admiral. I have studied your service scrolls and you have borne the years well. I hope you are proud of your service to the Imperium. You have a lot of reason to be." He gave the admiral a wide, sincere smile and the man looked shocked. He had clearly never expected an astartes to smile at all, let alone in recognition of him.

"T-thank you My Lord." The Admiral said, slightly flustered. "You honour me with your kind words. Now, according to your last message you and your men shall be leading the push into the Tomb of Madmen?"

"That is correct." Simus said. "The Boros Paladins will the vanguard of the expedition into the space hulk and clear the way for the Mechanicum and Imperial Guard elements to secure and catalog the vessel. We will be working closely with your own boarding teams so I must speak to your ground team commander as soon as possible."

"That will be Commander Mortwich My Lord. She will be coordinating all naval fire teams as well as any Imperial Guard elements she deems necessary. I have complete faith in her judgement so there is no need to consult anyone but her on such matters. Now if you shall excuse me My Lords I have much to do. Additional elements are arriving from all over the segmentum for this crusade and they must be coordinated."

"Of course Admiral, tend to your fleet." Simus said, never losing his smile.

"Thank you My Lords. We will speak again soon and, again, welcome aboard." The Admiral made ready to bow in respect but Simus offered him a handshake instead. The Admiral accepted, surprised at just how gentle the librarian's touch was, and then headed off to the rest of his duties, but not before discreetly passing by his first officer and giving her a quiet warning of "Behave yourself."

Simus politely pretended not to hear and turned his attention to the Commander, offering her the same gentle handshake he gave the Admiral. "It is a pleasure Commander Mortwich. I have also studied your service rolls and I commend you for your service to the Imperium, and against the Tyranids. It takes a truly exceptional woman to face those beasts and survive to fight another day. I hope you realize that. You look quite well considering your years...

"Attention all imperial ships. This is Captain Kaelo Uhasi of the Burning fists fourth company aboard the battle barge Prayer Of Fire. I wish to speak to all and any commanding officers". The blaring vox message came through every speaker on the ship and interrupted their conversation but the Admiral gave them a hand signal indicating that he was already responding.

"It seems we have more allies on the way." Simus said, never breaking eye contact with the Commander. "I am ready to discuss your fire teams now but we may wait for the Burning Fists to join us if you wish."

As they were talking the Admiral was busy handling the comms. The arrival of two space marine companies from two different chapters at once was surprising to say the least but the Admiral wasted no time to respond.

"Captain Uhasi, this is Admiral Thomas Quinn, in command of the fleet aboard the INV Indefatigable. Take your strike cruiser and dock with our starboard side. The Boros Paladins Strike Cruiser Candle of Faith is on our port side and their captain, a Librarian Simus Psyrakon, is already in attendance. Please join us as soon as possible. Quinn out."

"Captain Uhasi, we've received a response from the INV Indefatigable, they request that we dock on their starboard side and that you join them ASAP" Kaelo Uhasi heard through his suit's own Vox systems, the space marine smiling as he heard the news. "Very good. Bring us alongside the Indefatigable and begin docking procedures, tell the rest of the crew to prepare and alert my honour guard that they will be accompanying me onto the Indefatigable" He spoke, hearing a crackle of vox-static before an "Orders received and understood captain".

Kaelo Uhasi retired to his quarters to prepare himself for the meeting, ensuring that his power armour was in pristine condition, he was, after all meeting a fellow astartes. a librarian no less. Now was not the time for cutting corners. He took a second to look into the mirror on the wall in front of him. A pale-skinned figure stared back at him, one of his eyes, the right one to be exact, was covered by his shoulder length mane of dark hair. His features, were surprisingly soft, his chin wasn't as square and rigid as that of most astartes, and his face seemed surprisingly narrow for a 7 foot tall man. He took a moment to chuckle, he was nearly the opposite of his brother and chapter master Veneriah Uhasi, who did have the square and rigid jaws of an astartes, he was a man who looked as if he had been chiselled from the toughest stone known to man. It truly was amazing how different brothers could look.


Kaelo was awoken from his reminiscing by a loud metallic thud that reverberated throughout the ship. "We must have docked..." he mumbled to himself, placing the red helmet that he had been holding in his hands upon his head and strode out of his quarters, heading to the main airlock of the ship. "Bruchiel, Davorn, Viterrus, Torvatan and Avilis meet with me at the main airlock and prepare to board the Indefatigable" Kaelo spoke through his suit's vox, receiving a quick message from the squad leader, Viterrus telling him that they had received his orders and were en route. 'Good' Kaelo thought as he made his way to the chosen meeting location, the journey took only a few minutes and before long Kaelo was striding into the Indefatigable surrounded by five gloriously adorned astartes in red and yellow power armour.

"Stay close to me, this is just a meeting between commanders but still, be on your guard" he said to the other squad members through suit vox, the rest of them nodding in response. Kaelo then strode into the Indefatigable, crew members greeting him as he did. "I understand the situation soldier, at ease" he said to one of them before heading towards the command bridge where he assumed the others were. And sure enough they were, gathered Veneriah saw a few non-astartes men, which he assumed to be Admiral Thomas Quinn, along with some members of his crew. But the one that stood out was another astartes, a librarian of the Boros Paladins. "Greetings Admiral Quinn" he said, nodding to the man before addressing The librarian. "And Captain Psyrakon, I assume?" he said, briefly looking the two over.

"I am Kaelo Uhasi, Captain of the Burning fists fourth company, and behind me you see my personal honour guard. I believe that we have battle plans to discuss..."

Commander Mortwich listened with professional integrity but visibly winced as the Astartes mentioned the Tyranids, her arm instinctively reaching for a hidden scar and her expressionless face for the quickest instance, almost as if it had never happened flashed with rage and regret before returning once more to the calm, mirror like reflection of a cool-headed officer. It was probably the last thing she ever wanted to speak about and even more from a psyker. Having to deal with them was problem enough but having one that could read her thoughts was almost unbearable.

She was dissapointed that she had not expected this sooner and later and began to steel her consciousness like she had been taught in the Schola burying her thoughts underneath layers of scrap thought, like a flower that had bloomed now cradling itself back into a bud. However, her thoughts rippled like a calm body of water bombarded by several stones at the unwelcome announcement which was relayed through her head by the implant and she closed her eyes as her mind projected the message mentally across her eyelids as she read the transmission.

With an internal sigh at the fact they had failed to make the meeting on time, the Commander made a mental note regarding the disposition of the new arrival of the fleet element and its commanding officer which she would take care of later even as she sent mental pings to her officers to ready for boarding. It was as she dreaded that they would have to enter the hulk and to make matters worst, Segmentum had dispatched one of the infamous Commissars, most likely as a scapegoat in case something untoward happened to the crew under her command. She had not met the man in person but knew of the man in passing. His name flashed across her mind briefly, Tiberius, along with pangs of guilt and regret.

There was no love lost for the Commissariat even as she recognized their duty as a noble and honorable one at least in theory but the arrival of his presence would be a thorn in her side no doubt. She would have to be wary of his motives as she lined up in her head the strike force that would accompany her in the first wave. Of one thing she was certain, the explosives and deep range transmitters had to come with them in the event they became cut off from reinforcement and the second wave would have to consist of more security forces and most likely medical equipment in the event they had to make temporary base further in...it would be a nightmare mapping the vessel as she remembered how quickly even the combined auspex readings of the fleet gave back ghost signatures and she didn't want unnecessary casualties as they advanced.

It would be a very slow advanced, regardless of what anyone might say. Let those who are ignorant of the threats run ahead into the slaughter, I will return no matter what. I refuse to let this floating scrap heap by the end of me. Yet her thoughts were becoming unnecessarily brooding, to the point even her mental fortitude would fail to hide them from a probe from the Astartes commander and she didn't want them of all people to be asking as to why she would be carrying warheads onto the hulk until it was time. Even her own officers except for the Admiral had been left out of the loop.

Blinking away such memories, she turned her gaze as the doors opened to reveal the late arrivals whom she took in with equal measure of disdain and remorse. The simple appearance gave off warnings to her and as soon as the man opened his mouth she knew that their would be many complications to iron out and braced herself for what would be a long meeting of lunacy...