[OOC: Sorry for the long delay in replying. It's been a crazy busy weekend.] <In the Forge, Prior to Latest Mission> "I'll do just that, then, Uncle. Drop by anytime," says Draconion, setting down the melta pistol casings and turning to leave for his corner of the forge with a wave of his hand. Ensconced in his little nest of creation once more, he settles down in front of his draughtsman's easel, laying a out a fresh blank sheet under a stereographic imager and sketching with feverish energy as his creative muse wakes. Replicating Feron's designs from a copy of the original, he quickly fills in the blanks spaces with blowups of his own designs. In the hollow spaces of the three horns, he builds in a comprehensive C3 suite of advanced design, incorporating wide-band comms gear, orbital uplinks, a teleport homer and - his pride and joy - a prototype of a miniature multispectral auspex array based on the legendary Explorator Augury Web. Lacking both the range and raw power of the full-sized version, it is nevertheless peerless in its efficacy-to-weight ratio, and capable of networking with the auspex gear of in-theatre allied vehicles, borrowing their output and cogitative capacity to boost its coverage, penetration and resolution. Proceeding to work on the metrics of the helmet shell itself, he opts for a ribbed, layered organic design, inspired by the lamellar shells of deep-sea crustaceans to design an intricate geometry of inner tensegrity and outer obliquely-abutting plates to deflect and shear off incoming force, ensuring that most incoming blows glance off, and that the ones that do hit flush bounce rather than crumple the shell. As he sketches the mouth, he grins mischievously and quickly adds a series of blowups that soon overwhelm almost an entire quarter of the draught paper. The confusion of drawings would make little sense to anyone not well-trained in the sciences of Mars, but the labels, "Thermobaric Shock Projector #1, #2, #3," offer some clue as to their purpose. Finishing his plans, he triple-checks them for errors. Satisfied at length with his work, he scans the sheets into the nanolathe's cogitator and hits the large, red button marked 'FABRICATE'. The crucibles, frame and nozzles of the nanolathe hiss and hum to life as they begin weaving shape, order and purpose from molten adamantium and ceramite. Turning to the completed schematics of a Heresy-era Pyroclast Flame Projector, Draconion pores over his own notations and additions to the design for a few minutes before nodding in satisfaction and unfurling another blank sheet on his easel. This time, he begins to sketch the schematics for what appear to be major modifications to a cybernetic arm and hand. Blowups labelled 'CRYSTALLINE PSY-MATRIX', 'SOLLEX-AEGIS POWER FIELD GENERATOR', 'PSYCHIC BLEED CAPACITOR', 'PHASED DISCHARGE MODULATOR' and 'PSYCHOTHERMAL ENERGY CONVERSION ARRAY' soon litter the schematics. The aesthetics of the redesign are equally dramatic, apparently an advancement on the theme of his right arm design - sloped, serrated plates in lamellar configuration reminiscent of the adamantine scales of great drakes, lethal, flanged metacarpals making for macelike fists, and fingers tipped with short claws geometrically optimised for maximal mechanical strength and hard surface penetration... <Bridge of the Angelfall - Mission Briefing> Draconion makes his entrance on the bridge, still soot-stained and smelling of heated metal and plastic. A febrile light burns in his baleful red eyes, his creative energies still vibrating throughout his entire frame, begging for release. Even so, he manages to stand at statue-still attention and listen to the briefing in silence to its very end. When the ORBAT is discussed, he blinks in utter shock as Tempestus suggests he - Draconion - be appointed Chief Librarian. Speaking up the moment the ancient falls silent, he says, "My lords, I have not the temerity to take such a post, particularly passing over one so venerable as Ancient Tempestus. I am far too young in years and experience to be exalted thus. If Lord Mamarmoth is amenable, I am content to remain in my de facto role as principal ops officer, and share whatever Librarius duties with the Ancient Brother as he sees fit. As for our relief mission on this world, I should like to express my heartfelt support for it. Quite apart from the material support we stand to receive, it will be a vital stroke in our propaganda war against the Archenemy - if we can build a contemporary legend for ourselves as heroes unlooked-for and help unasked to the Emperor's faithful, the Unholy Alliance's stooges will look that much more dishonest trying to paint us as traitors. Regarding the disposition of our forces on the ground, I strongly recommend concentrating our remaining forces as a high-mobility strike force held in reserve for use against high-value targets. We simply haven't the numbers for large-scale battles by ourselves, and should leave frontline engagements to allied troops already in-theatre." He pauses to join his hands together in a gesture of earnest petition just shy of begging. "If I may make one small request, I should like to be deployed as part of the Salvation's crew this mission. I would very much like to assess the effectiveness of the modifications we have been making to her functionality under actual field conditions." The look of sheer earnest hope on his face is almost painful in its youthful naivete and sincerity.
"You two speak as if we have truly abandoned the Emperor." Icelos scolded in a harsh tone. He made himself known, approaching the rest with his helmet in his hand. He was previously had been reading a thick book. Few others knew what it had been. After Icelos made himself know, he spoke up with pride in his voice. "Do you not remember who we are? The Emperor's Angels of death. To protect humanity in his name at all costs. I like to believe we are here to help them and nothing more, it just happens that the world can also benefit us with our our main objective. I would like to follow this path. But I do have a question for you Chaplin Marmaroth. What must one possess to become your Champion?"
"Well spoken brother" as he spoke he looked at the two who had spoken so far "we may wnd up fighting these penal troopers, and as so would you have rather not have been warned" the dreadnaught then turned to the captain "no problems ocoured while you rested, if you ever need i will stand watch on the bridge again"
<Sirius Jules> "Seems like the Codex did well to your mind." The Apothecary said with a wide grin and nodded toward Icelos - confirming that he spoke well.
<Feron> "Settle down Brothers, settle down. We do not even know the disposition of ground forces. For all we know we could be entering a scenario where only a single city yet stands and we'll be the only bulwark left that could hold it. Conversely things might be excellent on the ground but space on the brink. I don't doubt for a second we'll be needing groups for boarding actions, defensive duties and lightning assaults. Until we've further details we can only sit and wait, though not for one moment will we abandon this world while we can help it. As the Chaplain has said it is a chance time to resupply and rearm and penal legions don't concern me, their thieves, heretics and scum that can be ground down or blown apart but I doubt they'll be so stupid as to try and fight the Emperor's Angels of Death while Greenskins are ramming blades and spiked clubs up their rectums. Assuming I'll have charge of deployment Sirius your request will be granted, you'll be wherever are brothers are fighting in the thickest of it to ensure you are abound where actual casualties may take place. Draconion your request will depend on the situation, I can't toss you into a Land Raider to anchor a civilian block when your talents would be better in seeing our team through a krooza assault. Amraphel in regards to assassinating the Warboss I believe that has always been in the plan, never a wise move to do anything but behead the Orks of their command. " Crossing his arms he looked about their council of warriors, the case for Jannika's new Inferno Pistol anchored firmly at his side by a mag-lock.
<Amraphel> "Let me propose the following plan: To kill the greenskins warboss, we will first need to find the beast and I think I have an idea on how to achieve this. The best loot gained by Orks will always be claimed by their Warboss, so why don't take advantage of that. Leave something of value to the orks, the best thing would be some kind of brutish yet powerful weapon. But before we let it slip into their hands the weapon will be equipped with a small homing device, which will let us track it's position. We will have to wait some time, but once we notice that the weapon has not been moved for a while, we will know their leaders location. We should then procede to deploy the most heavy forces available to us to take the target out. All the while some of our assets should help the local defenders hold the line and also draw ork forces away as a distraction. Those are my suggestions"
<Sirius Jules> @DeranVendar "I would like to emphasize that my duty is to keep our forces intact, therefore I will rather drag one of our men out than save a hundred penalty legionnaires. And even then, I will rather save an Astartes of ours than a regular human." He turned his gaze to Comissar Strauss. "No offense, but an Astartes, especially in our situation is worth a thousand of your men." He turned back to Feron. "The Codex dictates that information is key to victory, we should setup proper communicaton up. I doubt they would even be aware that we are Renegades, let us appear as Imperial Reinforcements in the name of the Ordo Xenos who just were nearby, or even deceive the local troops by telling that the Ork leader is some sort of bounty target in the eye of the Inquisition, which is why a Kill-Team had been dispatched. We assume control of the world by claiming control and take whatever we need and desire. If the world falls, we can retreat with supplies. If we can stop the Orks, then they will be grateful and we get supplies. No matter what happens, we win." The voice was ice cold as the crew was used to and his suggestion was cold calculation. Perhaps it was to test the team further of how far they were willing to go, perhaps he was simply the rational mind that there were measures to be done in order to fulfill their duty.
<Feron> "I'll leave matters of how we appear and interact with the locals off the battle field to our Chaplain and those better suited to it Sirius, secondly I wouldn't suggest lending your medical expertise to any but our own, or others when it is convenient but never as the express and only purpose. Once again Amraphel, we do not know much or anything of our target, there are only a small handful of near guaranteed truths about the Orks, one of which is indeed about killing the head but we don't know how this Warboss acts, anything of his personality or tactics, xenos come in as many flavors, if not more, of personality than ourselves."
<Sirius Jules> "Then I hope that our dear Commander will do the right choice and what is best for our survival and the most ideal option to reach our goals. Especially given that we cannot save an every soul. At least I will get the opportunity to avenge some of my fallen brothers from Armageddon - either way." The Apothecary shrugged before crossing his arms, only waiting for the briefing to conclude, he was to be deployed and his duties had been cleared already, so what else of interest was there for him, given he was not in a command position?
