Xerxes has, of course, seen these parts of the ship many times before. Even so, as Seventh squad enters the hangar, his emerald eyes sweep the assembled troops and staff - Legionary and otherwise - instinctively pickingg out patterns within the chaos. Akar's interaction with the veteran Havoc trooper was but a microcosm of the whole. All across the bay, similar indications of unwillingly fractured brotherhood revealed themselves to his eyes, buried pain and denied resentment plain as day to him. The Sergeant's blows of correction were but a pale shadow of the iron fist of the Primarch's heartless discipline, and the Legion was still nursing its spiritual wounds from the Decimation. He also takes note of Akar's little gems of wisdom, particularly the bit about growling and yelling at Army auxilia to move and otherwise leaving them to their task. As a perpetual outsider, he had never acculturated to his Legion's blunt and uncompromising ways - not truly - but he regarded the ability to take on the shape of such as instrumental to meshing properly with his new tribe. When Akar briefs them further on their duties, Xerxes acknowledges with a chest-thump salute. @DeranVendar "Acknowledged, Sergeant. This one requests also further permission to commandeer and directly supervise Army sapper teams as necessary - we will need all shovels working in synchrony to cover our sector in time." As his brothers banter back and forth, he listens in silence to the sounds of growing brotherhood, of hopeful bravado and youthful naivete, in stark contrast to the bitter, bloody-minded determination of the veterans. Perhaps time would wear them down, ruin them, make them ragged and bitter like the veterans. Perhaps not. For now, at least, these seemed like as decent a lot as any to be thrown in with. He might never truly be accepted as their brother, but if they could all get along well enough to work and live together, that would be good enough for him.
Herchel stayed silent, Still observing and watching mechanically, He took in the sergeants Gem of wisdom and made note, of using growls and possibly threats, It was good thing he had a flamer, the thought of a fiery death could make anything want to move or work faster, As he entered the bay he looked to all the other squads and made note of there sergeant using a type of signal to another marine a Iron havoc, Maybe they had a past or were both iron Havocs?, No matter it mattered little at the moment as it would not aid them much in the mission. "Ready to proceed at any time." Herchel said breaking his silence.
"As necessary Xerxes, your primary duty still stands to focus on the greater coordination of the whole. As for you Herchel, I'm quite ready to move out as well but we're slaved to the pace of this ever so graceful hulk of iron. So make yourselves busy for a bit longer, I'll be back ten minutes before we board. "Akar turned away and began lugging both himself and plasma cannon over to the havoc he had acknowledged earlier. Left to their own devices the squad would find that the next thirty odd minutes passed at fair speed. Somewhere near the fifteen minute mark the first impacts began to reverberate through the ship. The void shields outside became visible beyond the environmental barrier sealing the opened hangar port from the void, ripples of blue-purple manifesting where the overwhelming amount of solid xenos weapon fire managed to skim near to the ship. Akar returned to them as the orchestrated chaos dominating the area previously was replaced by the drilled efficiency of the Iron Warriors forming up and embarking their transport. Engines roared and pummeled the room with intense heat as Wrath Starfighters jetted out and into the void war. "Seventh squad! Sixth Squad! Embark!" A voice both new and familiar commanded their attention, causing Akar to sigh out through his nose with what might have been frustration. Having entered the hangar with his own squad was Captain Brumdar. Olympian born son was replete in his full panoply of war. Proudly maintained ceramite of a MK III 'Iron' suit girded his form while a power axe almost as long as he was tall was gripped in one hand and a bolt pistol with a virgin casing lacking any battle scarring or signs of wear was bound in the other hand. The leering helmet lingered on them only for a moment as they hastened to their seats in the craft, attention demanded elsewhere in multiple places at the same time. At their commander's side was a figure of arguably greater repute, and a somewhat divisive figure in his own right: First Lieutenant Arkon Grundier, Terran born and former Captain of the company. Torn from his previous position after Perturabo tore through the legion command and its soldiers both, he was replaced by the young Brumdar Hale. As a gesture of good faith and respect the new Captain had seen it fit to keep Arkon in upper command of the company, valuing his experience. It was little secret that Lieutenant Grundier had jumped on the opportunity with the sort of enthusiasm reserved only for the desperate. A blow to his pride and the respect his soldiers had toward him. Rumors weren't kind about his new thirst for more of his old power either. Both figures would climb into the Stormbird, Talon of Hadon, and join their comrades destined for the ground. Ramp lifted and sealed them all in, hold briefly pitch black until their eyes adjusted and the deep crimson of the lumen strips filled the hold. Everything lurched as they were cast from the hangar and out into the void and a world made up almost entirely of enemy gunfire. The orkish defenses and counter-aggressors were putting everything they possibly could in flight at the legion and army space craft. Slugs found in hand guns were racing alongside shells the size of battle tanks toward strike cruisers, mad arcs of lightning and lance fire vaporized hull space stained with splattered grots and snotlings that had been fired from the same cannons that fed high explosive shots into space. None of it could touch the Talon of Hadon though, void shields sparing them the worst of the fire. Even as they entered the atmosphere and began facing the brunt of the anti-air fire from massive forge-bastions below them, they would not fall from the sky, their legion pilot the sole master of their trip. When the Stormbird touched down and ramp fell with it forty two Iron Warriors disembarked. Three squads under the leadership of the Captain and First Lieutenant would set foot on the blasted ashen soil of an LZ scoured by orbital bombardment and immediately launch themselves toward a nearby ridge line, leaving Akar and his Seventh squad in the dust. Nearby other transports were touching down with every minute, a second Stormbird delivering the other thirty legionnaires to partake in immediate combat duties along with a number of Rhinos that would act as instant, mobile fortifications while the primary base was established. Other ships bearing the deaths head insignia of their army auxiliary came down as well, hundreds more boots hitting the ground as mortal troops were deployed and equipment off-loaded. The landing zone had been chosen well, as was to be expected with astartes at the head of the operation. A combination of lance strikes and dispersion blasting had been used. The latter had effectively obliterated every trace of what had been a xeno shanty town, the former had established a rough perimeter of sorts. Blackened furrows carved into the ground that still gave off gusts of embers encircled the area that had received the explosive treatment; a framework for the first of the trenches and their boundary lines for the first of many defensive layers. It wasn't the smoothest outline, yet the fact that such molding of the landscape had been accomplished before they even touched down was a testament to the prowess of the Iron Warriors; the mathematical expertise of logistics personnel and the discipline of vessel gunners. It was not just well prepared though! The terrain was in their favor as well, the base located on a large plateau penned in by a number of rocky outcroppings and crags that presented only a handful of passages into their location; while a steep slope that dominated a large part of the southern LZ allowed for immediate access to the low lands and acidic waste marshes between them and the first of the orkish settlements that would require purging. Speaking of the greenskins... Enemy forces were already enroute to their location. Dozens of oily clouds climbed into the sky as ramshackle vehicles pressed toward the Imperial forces. They had begun the ride to war before any transports even touched down, ashes and embers still fluttered through the air from the bombardment and the orks had sallied forth to try and catch them as they landed. Massive long guns already had a bead on them, the thunderous retort of what had once been mighty Imperial cannons now bastardized by Ork meks split the skies. The Thunderbirds gave off an electric hum that rattled the teeth as they idled in place, power diverted to void shields to shelter the Iron Warriors from any shells that actually managed to find their mark. As the first chain of explosions tore apart the earth several miles west of them the Imperial Army set to tearing up the soil themselves. Shovels, blasting charges, and support vehicles began to erect the most basic of their defenses, refining the scarring left by the lance strikes into proper trenches. With several hundred men and women already present and more coming down by the second it was obvious that Seventh squad hadn't been given an easy task. Busy work or not they had been entrusted to get a fortified base up and running, and that they must do; the legion, and thus Perturabo, demanded it. With the greater part of their company having made to engage the most pressing thread directly south of them, it would be up to Seventh squad and co to deal with any secondary threats encroaching on their turf. Akar immediately set to deploying them to their strategic layers. Of the handful of Rhinos that had been landed with them, the Sergeant ordered they idle in the center ready for rapid re-deployment until they had a better idea of where to expect the enemy. Heavier machines and engines of war would be landed once the skies could be brought under control by either the fleet or their own AA emplacements. This was of scant comfort to the army, whom unlike the legion, had already lost a number of transports. Fiery comets that tumbled through the sky like spilled organs from some leviathan’s stomach. Search parties would not be deployed till later, if at all, even then it would be to collect valuable resources, not battered flesh. Any survivors would likely be found by opportunistic Ork scavengers first. Within the first hour of spreading out to oversee the establishment of their defenses the alarm went out. A mass of Ork light vehicles and transports were riding toward them from the north-east at a blistering pace and would be upon them in mere minutes. With only a few layers of trenches dug and some elevated earth works manned by heavy weapons teams their protection was decidedly insufficient and Seventh squad would reinforce while making sure no one dared slack in the construction effort just because of a skirmish. “Heavy units with me. Find sturdy firing positions with open fields of fire. “Akar’s orders came in clean, clipped bursts throughout their vox channel. “Tacticals down into those trenches, Xerxes I want a full diagnostic report on what we’re engaged with. Assaults make yourselves comfortable and engage on my order. I want two of those Rhinos brought up and parked length-wise around the nearby Hydra emplacements. This is it Seventh squad, do not fail. When I give you orders I expect the matter to be considered done, you will succeed, and failure will not be tolerated. “There was a pause on the line and for a moment only the sounds of a line bracing to receive a charge was heard. The Rhinos ground into position, the rattling of further razor wire coils being un-spooled, the clicks and clacks of weapon checks and a great many boots pounding solidly against packed earth. Akar spoke following the buzzing snap of an electro-whip being cracked in mid-air. “Death is not an acceptable excuse men. You do not have orders to die. Iron Within, Iron Without!” It was odd, there was some hint of inflection in it that almost made it seem like the Sergeant was trying to actually inspire them, rather than relay a simple threat. Must have been a trick of the mind. When the greenskins finally hit them it was with all the savagery that the young marines had been taught. A war trukk with a wrecking ball trailing behind its bed fell apart as a stream of heavy bolts drilled through its engine and right into the driver's compartment. Driver turned into a messy pile of gore in squig leather seats while vehicle careened off into a wall. The disgruntled passengers were already throwing themselves out to start running when the trukk went off course. A wall of las-fire met them like it did the others and what bolts didn't turn into chunks, was simply blackened and burned. The carcasses were ground into a paste by the many vehicles following behind. Akar and his unit wouldn't need to get involved until the press of armored chassis and stubborn bodies at last allowed the enemy to close the gap. "Assault units, deploy!" Order came as a trio of War Bikers came speeding straight up the center, spiked tires pulling them over the torn up earth while noisome engines drove the light vehicles right over the first row of trenches. A thick black smog was belched from their multitude of exhaust pipes obscuring those behind them and throwing off the fire from the army units. Compounding this thread was a fresh delivery of Orks to the field by a wide bodied trukk. Lacking in weapons and much armor, it made up for this with a massive engine, a lot of wheels, and plenty of transport capacity. Even as it stormed straight into the fray a Nob and his attendant mob of boyz spilled out and hit the ground running and rolling, all of them spoiling for a fight with some space marines. As the trukk rolled over the first row of trenches it managed to catch a krak missile to its underside, blowing it into two flaming halves that skidded and corkscrewed off along the lines. It was going to be a busy day. Tides of War: Seventh Squad and Imperial Army (Lead by Sergeant Akar) VS. Ork Speed Freaks (No Leader) Advantage: Neither Seventh Squad: Seth: 10 Xerxes:10 Vilhelm:10 Herchel:10 Wilson:10 Marcus:10 Dyzek:10 Grunvil:10 Akar:15 Conditions: None Speed Freaks: War Bikers: 3/3/3 Ork Slugga Mob:30 Slugga Nob: 8 (Kombi-Burna) Conditions: Attacks on Ork units at range receive -1 to hit due to smog cover while bikers are alive. Mobs/Hordes put out a number of attacks equal to the first digit of their health (rounding as appropriate if there is a ones digit) each turn. @Redthirst @BruticusTheGoreHound @Vlayden @Grall_Stonefist @Draconion @Colapse @Vulpas @Valonox
<Planetfall> Piling out of the Stormbird, Xerxes immediately strides out towards the most elevated ground he can find to start surveying the LZ and its surrounds with both magnoculars and Mk II (Astartes) Eyeball. Even before he deploys his psychic abilities, he can already see the advantages offered by local geography, and the basic steps required to take advantage of them. With a blink-click, the antennae on his vox-caster pack extend and unfurl, powerful encryption generators spooling up to handshake with the local tactical network and maintain informatic security as he logs in. "Attention all Imperial units deployed to LZ XX - this is Battle-Brother Xerxes of 7th Squad, 5th Company. We are now on station and taking command of LZ security for op duration. All Army unit commanders - stand by for security deployment priority updates. All Astartes units - broadcasting channel ID for live sitrep exchanges. For the Emperor. Iron Within, Iron Without." His last utterance - uttered in his characteristically laconic tone - coincides oddly with Sergeant Akar's own motivational mantra. He has no time, however, to dwell on vicissitudes of fate as he snaps open his entrenching tool - a model with a longer, telescoping handle - and buries the spatulate blade in the earth. Using it as a mental focus to connect his mind to the earth, he begins working with the data he has already gathered through mundane means, calculating attack vectors, guesstimating incoming enemy force strengths and compositions and - where available - double-checking his assumptions through reports across the battle-net. As the equations of war tick like gears in his mind, he begins reaching out to local Army commanders - either on the radio, or else physically accosted as they have the misfortune to pass him by - and directing them to guard key locations revealed to him by his mathematical prognostication. Both the obvious ones - such as the chokepoints at the crags and the southern slopes - as well as some less obvious ones. Immediate needs met, he proceeds to cast his mind into the earth to speed ahead where enemy forces approach the LZ. As best as he can, he narrows his focus to gain a clear picture of the incoming Orks. The obvious taken care of, he sweeps the narrowed scope of his senses thrice around the LZ like a radar pulse to pick up anything he might have missed. All the while, he keeps up a rapid-fire series of reports back to Sergeant Akar in the SALUTE* format. Global concerns taken care of, Xerxes dutifully marches into the middle ground to join his brothers and the Army sappers in building the trench lines. Casting his mind into the earth, he notes its composition and density across the defensive zones, calculating its resistance to cutting, impact, boring and detonation, as well as likely patterns of shifting and settling in response to the above, not to mention hardening and weakening in response to packing and undermining. Relaying his findings to his brothers and surrounding Army sappers, he himself lays into the earth before him with a will, each stroke of his shovel guided by his Immaterial senses to cut, heap and pack the earth in the most efficient manner possible. As per doctrine, he first digs his own personal foxhole, complete with an equipment and grenade sump, as well as a firing rest made from packed earth. [Possibility Shield alternating with Remote Viewing, since this interval is before the start of combat turns] * - Size, Activity, Location, Unit, Time, Equipment <Combat> As the first wave of Orks for the day appears in line of sight, Xerxes ceases work on the trench he has been digging for almost the past hour and leaps into his foxhole, there assuming a prone firing position with his bolter on the firing rest. Taking a few seconds to assess the enemy forces and their patterns of movement, he once again mentally recites the equations of battle, their unceasing iterations clicking through his mind like the workings of a vast and infinitely intricate machine, all calculating the most expedient solution to bring ruin upon the enemy. Peering down his scope, he has not far to look as he sights the massive Ork leader with its patchwork weapon and its hissing pilot light. "Brother Xerxes to squad. Ork Nob identified as key target. Sighting to engage with ranged fire." [Possibility Shield; Sergeant Akar nominated to receive bonus]
Herchel boots on the ground already began moving forward into the trench and took off his belt a Trench shovel he had been given in the armory, a Token and symbol in his legion of there duty, Beginning to dig he moved with a energy in his motions looking to do a precise job but not a sloppy one. As Herchel suddenly heard orders and the sound of xenos getting near he put the shovel to his belt and took up his bolt pistol for at the momment he still only had and the orks weren't in range for him to use it yet. Taking aim from the trench Herchel began letting off rounds from his Bolt pistol at the Ork bikers aiming to destroy them first due to the clouds of smoke they were Emitting and how harder of a time it was making his shots into the larger ork group. "Engaging Xeno light Vehicles," Herchel said over the Vox to his squad as he began firing. OOC Full on attacks on Ork bikers with bolt pistol.
Wilson's dead silence gave him the edge of being able to examining the battle field, he didn't much care for inspiration, just the tactical thinking and calculations on who what and when to kill. Thus examined the most deadly threat at the present time. His eyes locked onto the horde, but then saw the bikers and realized they would be the greatest threat in the long run, thus he set his Bolter onto the one seeming to be leading the pack of the bikers. (OOC: Firing Bolter at leading War-biker)
The recruit didn't waste any time in switching off the safety for the boltgun as he saw the incoming greenskins, bringing the weapon to bear and waited for the foes to come closer - the smog caught him slightly off-guard though, Marcus stepping back one as he looked about for the Warbikers. His helm's auto-senses kicked in as he aimed for the bikes, firing numerous three-round bursts; if anything he'd hoped to deal with them and get this blasted smog out of the way, even getting to one knee to keep his aim steady. "Get the Bikers," he called out through the vox-link. "And make sure the damned greenskins don't kill our workers." His combat knife was still ready at his leg, fortunately; just a split second away should he need it. OOC - Shooting Warbiker-2, all out attack w/ boltgun
@Draconion @BruticusTheGoreHound @Redthirst "Roger that Xerxes. Try to light him up a bit, I'll be there shortly," Seth replied to his Brother while opening private channel to Vilhelm and Dyzek. "See if you can ease up some pressure from me while I engage the Nob," he asked (not ordered) his new Brothers, since Akar gave him some sort of a small lead he might as well do what a proper assault leader would do and tie up the biggest enemy asset while also asking his comrades for support - Dyzek due to him being an Assault oriented specialist and thus most likely he'll jump in with him and Vilhelm because his weapon might cause the greatest destruction in the Ork Mob. Saying (almost) everything he intended, Seth activated his jump pack and headed straight towards the Ork leader, intending to descend upon him on the wings of fire. "Assault assets deploying. For Perturabo," he spoke into the vox, making sure Akar got that before wading into the Orks. He also planned to slam right into the Nob or somewhere close to him, but to properly catch the Greenskin's attention so the Beast would engage him in a duel or something, hopefully preventing other Xenos from opening fire on him in the process. For that, he also had a taunt in store when he would arrive. "Hey ugly, look up!" OOC Balanced attack with jump pack > chainaxe move (and trying to stay in melee), while defending myself with the very same axe.
From his entrenched position Grunvil looked over the aproaching horde, not too many orks, but their vehicles where spouting out great amounts of smog, it would do well to get them turned into stationay wrecks sooner rather than later, "Taking aim at the warbikes," he said over the vox as he loaded in a frag missile, though krak was better for armour killing, these ramshacle bikes would break if hit, and a frag would secure the kill on the driver and take out and orks stopid enough to be close by, they needed to thin out the horde going againt them, as long as orked lived they would be trouble. (OOC firing aimed frag missile at a ork warbike)
