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Deathwatch RP Thread 1

"Combat simulations lasted more than usual," Deimos replied to the old warrior, his already powerful voice amplified further by the vox-speakers within his helm.

"Imperial Fist," he gives a brief neutral acknowledgement.
 
I turn to the Terminator looking it over before putting my hand over my heart and giving a slight nod of my head as a sign of respect “Captain” I say as I continue to try of hold my excitement back.
 
With the swivel of his Hayreddin's sight makes contact with the Terminator's presence, a sluggish nod motioned as he returned to focus with the Commander's digest of their missions.

"Our confidence, and strength, grow by the pound added into our force's ceramite weight."
 
Several other acknowledgements follow from the Watch Captain to each member of the squad, only stopping for a brief minute at the presence of the Marine Malevolent, before moving on swiftly.

"I will not bother you with trivialities, nor do I possess any rousing speeches for any of you. As select elites, I expect you to be all up to standards. I make it perfectly clear from this very moment I will not tolerate weakness. I do not require your respect, nor you mine. That will be earned, in good hope, in these coming weeks. I only need your compliance. That will be all that is necessary to finish our job. Commander," he turned to the old warrior. "I will expect my full report already delivered."

"Of course. Your ride is waiting for you already. Give them a full rundown."

"Emperor willing, see you next time, old man."

The Captain turns away from the Commander, crossing through the gate once more, clearly expecting to be followed.
 
I follow the Captain, I had noticed his reaction to the Malevolent not that it wasn’t warrented, “I just hope the piss colored bastard doesn’t do anything stupid that will lose him his head” I think to myself as I move along.
 
The Gila Monsters Astrates motions forwards with the pack's steps. With a quick glance to the wider kill-team the organic telescopic of his dull brown tinged eyes scanning the superhuman specimens before him from height to weapon to the livery that found itself etched to each of their shoulders.

The words "Ravens, to Wolves, to Crusaders, and a fellow lizard in the fold. Tenuous is the least of words to describe how this operation will proceed." Crossing the roads of his mind, soon shifting his sights back to the front.
 
"In but a moment," he says to the Malevolent, as he directs the group to a massive elevator shaft. The mechanism looks more suited to carrying heavy armor and artillery rather than people, and so it is quite spacious. "We have a ride to get to. I'd rather not leave it waiting for longer than necessary."
 
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Considering they are all, especially the ceptain, wearing heavy armor, the elevator seems more than adequate for their trasport.

The Imperial Fist waits for the elevator to arrive [or if i read wrong and it's already here, he gets in]
 
Jaeger steps on the Elevator waiting for the rest as he ponders the types of foes he shall face on the Planet.
 
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The elevator descends downward into another docking bay, this one possessing yet another Corvus Blackstar. Yet it can be swiftly deduced that it is not the same from the markibgs across it's frame.

The Captain leads you into the craft, his sheer bulk preventing him from standing fully erect. He crouches down instead, situating himself for the duration of the trip.

"This is as good a time as any for the debriefibg I suppose."
 
I get into the ship and upon hearing the Captains words I prepare for the briefing.
 
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Nobel subsequently enters and sits himself in the iron caress of the Blackstar's seating. The Astarte's eyes distracted by the silent self assessing of his equipment's condition though with keeping ears, attentive, to his commanding officer's word as they prepare.
 
"Over 4 months ago, we received our last transmission from Kill-team Thanatos. It's leader, Thanatos Cepharion, was a brother won in battle of mine, and one of the deadliest men I've ever met. They were sent to the wretched Hive World for the express purpose of acting as an infiltrator squad for a presumed Genestealer Cult uprising. They were doing their culling job well, until what you all now know. Our express purpose is to investigate what has befallen them, excise the problem should we be able, or communicate it to Hecate and Imperial High Command should we require reinforcements."

"You've all been selected to make this team as diversely deadly as possible. The nature of our foe is for all practical purposes unknown to us. No mere cult could down Thanatos or his squad, I bet my arm on that much. What we face will almost certainly be of greater danger than such a triviality."

"Of course," he says, pointing to the display screens within the Blackstar. "I need not inform you this is still an infiltration mission. We will require a vessel of rather small size still."

You see approaching a gargantuan mass of steel and death. Gun decks and armor plating littering a boxy shape more massive than most mountains. The black titan skims through the waves of the vast nothingness of space like a ironclad predator. It's presence would be enough to cow most normal words to fear and compliance.

"This is the Hunter-class destroyer Defiant Will, and it will be our mode of transport."
 
Ignore the Ultramarine logo, it's just meant to give you an idea what it looks like

Hunter-Destroyer.png
 
"Didn't you say small ? That is the opposite of small."

Grimal points out in a typical Imperial Fists fashion, as he still admires the craftmanship of the essentially floating fortress.
 
"Relatively speaking," Deimos replies dryly.
 
"I trust you've seen a battle barge before, Fist. This destroyer is like a fish before a whale of Old Earth when put to a comparison," the Captain replies with the same dry tone.

The craft is speeding toward the ship, as hangar bay doors open.
 
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"I do have seen vessals far larger, though i question the practicality of using a transport of that size for infiltration."
Grimal responds as he watches the ship arrive.
 
The diminutive Veteran perks up to speak

"Louder, but ultimately more trouble in the long term. Corroborating the Fist's tactical concerns, flippancy in his speech aside."
 
"Well, it's not as though a smaller option can be supplied. Warp travel requires a very large engine, a lot of power, and thus, a large ship."
 
"A solemn truth, undertaking more conniving tactics in battles past, however, have made me averse to traveling within anything larger than a Carnifex."
 
"I assure you the ship is equipped with sufficient technology to cloak and evade if the need arises. As it stands, stealth will not be a priority. Officially we are on a diplomatic mission, or so the world's officials have been told, to ensure the continued compliance of the populace," Deimos says, perhaps a ghost of chucklesome amusement in his deep voice.
 
"An affirmative then if so, will be less reserving with my more combustive weaponry."
 
The Blackstar lands finally inside the still quite spacious hangar bay of the black Hunter, as the massive doors are closed, the air being restored quickly as the outside void is sealed. The Captain emerges first, clearly uncomfortable to an extent sitting inside the relatively small vessel, or at least looking out for the quality of his armor, as pistons and joints squeal in protest.

"Your quarters have already been assigned, and should be uploaded to your armor's cogitators already. The serfs aboard the ship will tend to any needs you have. This journey will take approximately 5 weeks, given optimum Warp travel charts. You are free to do as you please. However, I have but one request for you: meet me in the combat simulation room in approximately 2 hours. This is compulsory for all of you. Until then, I have matters to attend to."

The lumbering bulk of armor then turns, moving away with surprising speed and grace despite it's form.
 
I move out to my quarters hoping that this ship has some kind of alcohol to make this journey bearable.
 
[Warp travel bullshit says 2 hours have now passed]

You all more or less arrive at the training cages on time. There aren't many of them, as befitting of a smaller ship, and they don't look much used. A variety of blunted weapons line the walls. Serfs labor around the room, seemingly cleaning dust from equipment. A Tech-priest or two can be seen applying sacred oils, basic maintenance and prayers to mechanisms seemingly long unused.

There is no sign of the Captain yet.
 
Take one of the weapons on the wall to prepare, something akin in shape and feel to a Thunder Hammer.
 
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