Editing Republican Commando (section)

===(16) A Stranger I Remain===
<div class="mw-collapsible-content">Morale on the Blade amongst the living crew is high - a mighty blow was struck against Nidhoggr on Hylios. Though a frigate bearing the sigils of the Inquisition arrives too late to study the decomposed Magma Corer, the Commandos still are content. Cyril sets his corer plate in the trophy room, posting a 'do not touch' note and a pair of Scyllax to enforce it, but angrily rebukes Brynjol after he hacks and slashes his way through the defenses to touch the plate anyway. 

Without a current project to work on, Cortain heads over to the newly-opened O'Malley's Bar and Grill near the Blade's bridge, Temur following close behind, quite curious at the Squats' establishment.  Squats all around are trading out their combat gear for regular work gear now that the battle is over, and gathering for a drink at O'Malley's. Placed across from the Sector Holomap is a large book. the size of a squat, with a number of names written within.

"Can I get ya anythin', beardling?" O'Malley asks.
"Two parts Motor Oil, one part Antifreeze, and maybe one part Recaf-Liquer," Cortain states, pulling up a stool and grabbing some peanuts, "Hopefully, the antifreeze might inspire me."
"Aye," O'Malley nods. He sticks out his hand, and summons a cup with telekinesis. He reaches under the cupboard for his industrial supplies, and preps the desired cocktail. Cortain takes a moment to look up as he takes a long drink, at the pict-caster above.

"...nd in other news, MAGMA CORERS! The terror of the Tyranid Splinter Fleets, halted! 
>An image of the Commandos cutting themselves out of the Magma Corer is broadcast.
The Republican Commandos have done it again! And now a word from our sponsors..." 
The pict-caster fades to commercial break, advertising the new collectible Republican Commando Action Figure line.

Temur, however, inspects the book curiously. Within the book are a number of names. Some are squattish, some human, some clearly xenos, One name, circled up top in bold letters, is impossible to miss - "Korst'la."
"What is that giant book you have installed near the holomap?" Temur asks.
"Hmm?" O'Malley grunts, "Ah. The Book of Grudges. Everyone who's ever wronged us, who's done poor by us, gets put in that book."
"I see," Temur nods, "The Storm Brotherhoods keep a similar great roll, that the Khan may choose a worthy foe for each great hunt."
"Aye. Only way ta get off the Book is ta make things right," Rockfist adds, having some stronger stuff, "Usually it means we get a throng of the lads together and bash some skulls in."
"There has not been a new great hunt called in some time though," Temur muses, "I am hopeful it will only be so after I am done my duties here so that I may take part..."

Cortain raises Thexus on Vox after taking finishing his drink. "Honourable Paragon, what can you explain about...Cyber-Familiars?"
"TINY ASSISTANTS TO THE COVENANTER'S WORK. THEY WOULD HANDLE SMALL TASKS, ADJUST TOOL POWER, AND AID IN FORGING OF WARGEAR. DO YOU REQUIRE ONE?" Thexus asks.
"Would it perhaps be possible...to convert a Servo-Skull into one?" Cortain asks.
"IF THAT IS WHAT YOU REQUIRE, IT SHALL BE DONE. I SHALL ACQUIRE A HELOT'S SKULL AND MAKE THE NECESSARY UPGRADES. I SHALL RETURN MOMENTARILY."
The vox channel goes quiet.
"....Wait, I have a servo-skull I could offer instead!" Cortain swiftly replies, but he gets no response. Cortain feels a foreboding most ominous...

"So, where to next?" Rose asks, sipping her own drink, "I've had this weird headache ever since we got here, so I'm kind of eager to leave."
"The Shadow in the Warp?" Cyril asks, "Perhaps Nidhoggr is not so thoroughly vanquished here as Rockfist thought. The station is more pressing, though. The Inquisition desires that station's secrets, and I want them out of Tau hands."
"I don't know what a shadow in the warp is," Rose shrugs, but my headache stopped when you guys got back."
"I feel a particular interest in seeing this space station," Cortain suggests, "I only worry about what the Black Caste has planned..."
"All right, lad, we'll set it as our next destination," Rockfist says, leaning over and loudly barking orders at the bridge crew down the passage way. The Blade enters the Warp, on its way to Tempestus Solaris. The Commandos spend much of their time in O'Malley's for now, sharing ideas of what to carve the corer plate into, while Brynjol can only wonder why there is so much Mjod about. O'Malley can only shrug, while Cyril and Cortain remain quiet about how much they bought back on Studio 69.

05:42, 13 June 2016 (UTC)[[Special:Contributions/24.205.112.238|24.205.112.238]] 05:42, 13 June 2016 (UTC)
Meanwhile, in the underdecks of the vessel, a Squat is walking along whistling. Then he hears a clanging, and sees the massive Executor Thexus clanging towards him. He stops whistling. A single tear rolls down his cheek as the claw swiftly approaches his face...
05:42, 13 June 2016 (UTC)[[Special:Contributions/24.205.112.238|24.205.112.238]] 05:42, 13 June 2016 (UTC)

"So, these Tau..." Rose begins, "You seemed pretty upset last time you encountered them. Are they that bad?"
"The last time I faced one..." he traces his abdomen. "I nearly got bisected. I intend to enact something equally violent upon them."
"They usually-" Cyril turns down his armour speakers. "They usually die quickly and easily, provided you know when, where, and how to strike. This 'Black Caste' is an anomaly."
"The Black Caste in particular are extremely militant and a fanatical devotion to...something, almost above their Greater Good."
"Oh..." Rose sighs, "There were a number of alien species we encountered when we had begun our colonizations, most seemed friendly enough. It's somewhat sad."
"Aliens often seem friendly," Cyril points out, "They have invariably betrayed humanity."
"Every single time?" Rose asks, "That hardly seems possible."
"The Age of Strife is exactly this," Cortain explains.
"They must all be purged, but galactic threats like the Tyranids come first," Cyril adds, "This Black Caste is more aggressive, though, and well worth our efforts even if they were not occupying a valuable void station."
"To be fair, your Age of Strife corresponds to our Age of Trade," Rockfist notes, "But it also leads to the Age of Wars."
"Many names were added to the Books of Grudges those days," O'Malley sighs, "Never trust anyone but yer kin an' yer brotherhood."
Rose dejectedly finishes her drink as the day winds down. While the week is quiet, and Thexus is surprisingly nowhere to be seen, the loud tearing of the veil between Materium and Warp alerts everyone to the fact that warp travel is complete.

The Blade has entered the Tempestus Solaris system from the top, and the Blade's augurs pick up the faint communiques of Imperial Navy vessels long since departed.The Commandos are, however, getting a communication herald on augurs, which Cortain accepts.

"Commandos...I would advise silent running as you approach."
"Deepthroat," Cortain recognizes as Cyril orders it so.
"Very good. You took your time this time, it seems," Deepthroat rumbles, "You are, however, in luck, the Black Caste are still here."
"What have they accomplished thus far?" Cyril asks.
"This station has served as an outpost from which they strike at your Navy maneuvers. With increased presence elsewhere, the Navy does not realize that such an outpost has been established within their own system. However, their own agenda has been slowed, though I cannot say if this bodes well or poorly for you."
"Understood," Cyril answers, "Have they devoted any efforts towards unearthing any secrets of the station?"
"Indeed. I am already aboard, scouting out potential landing zones," Deepthroat continues, "The Tau have...awoken something. I do not recognize it, but the entire station is on high alert. A fleet is returning within a few standard hours to reinforce."
"We should probably infiltrate in before they arrive," Cortain notes.
"I advise caution, as there are many crossfires and battles within these halls currently."
"Infiltrate?" Brynjol laughs, "Surely you mean hack and slash!"
"Brynjol, how many Tau have you faced?" Cyril asks, "Infiltration is a solid plan, and I, for one, support it entirely." 
Brynjol claps Cyril on the back. Ceramite creaks. "I was joking, you humourless tit," he points at the wolf-skull grin on his helmet, "Couldn't you tell?"

"Briefing appreciated, Deepthroat," Cyril states, "Is there anything else?"
"I will transfer a series of access points I noted to you. Be warned, this place is strange. The Tau did not build it...but neither did you humans. It seems far older than both. I do not trust it."
"How narrow are the internal spaces?" Temur asks, "If we are to deal with these xenos, I would prefer more information on our battleground if we have it."
"You should be able to fit, Commandos, just as the battlesuits patrolling the halls do," Deepthroat hints ominously, "I advise something small for transport, larger vehicles will draw the ire of the defenses the Tau have co-opted."
"Sounds like a Storm Raven," Cortain realizes.
"I shall contact you further if necessary. Deepthroat out." The Blade's augurs pick up a message - a number of three-dimensional waypoints, all deep within one of the gas giants in system.

"Lads, don't worry about us, we'll pilot the Blade into the gas giant, and enter silent running until you give the word," Rockfist says, "They won't find us."
The Blade approaches the Gas Giant on the outskirts of the system, dipping into the heavy cloud cover. Heavy winds buffet the battleship's hull as ferromantic runes of invulnerability are charged.

As a team, the Commandos collectively requisition a maniple of Vorax, arming them with bio-corrosive rounds to act as a distraction. Brynjol arms himself with a combat shield, while Cyril and Temur pick up jump packs for themselves. Cortain acquires a cyber-familiar, delivered by Executor Thexus - the cyber-skull is of impeccable quality, though Cortain wonders why it seems thicker and wider than a normal human skull...

The Two Urists take the Storm Raven out, the Commandos aboard, through the heavy yellow clouds that comprise the gas giant. Flying low, the Urists pull up, and the Commandos finally see the station ahead. Bright polished silver in color, with blue energy conduits pulsing throughout the superstructure, the station is thicker at the top than it is at the bottom, many bits protruding. Two of the waypoints Deepthroat pointed out are in the thicker middle of the station, while another is an extrusion towards the top.

"Can scans tell us anything about the internal structures around the waypoints?" Cyril asks.
"Lad, we're not getting anything," Rockfist laments, "I don't know what that thing is made of, but augurs can't pierce it."

The station is floats amongst the clouds. Below, a storm rages. Cyril spares a few minutes to dump half a bucket of Tau blood over each of the ten Voraxes' heads, before conferring with everyone to select a landing zone. Getting closer, the station doesn't seem to be one solid piece - it's made of at least five different components. It comproses the central body itself, and four fins orbiting it, tens of meters away. All entry points, however, are on the central body. Two mid, one top.

"Emperor guide us..." Cyril takes a deep breath,  "Eeeny, meeny, miney, moe..."
"Mighty Vorax, there you go..." Cortain joins in.

The Commandos ultimately select an exposed platform near the top of the station, with a number of flat surfaces open. They command the Vorax be dropped on a lower level to better make a distraction. Brynjol leaps out, axe in one hand and sword in the other. He looks mildly disappointed not to be knee-deep in Tau immediately, but contents himself with an Oath of the Wolf King to mess up any Crisis Suits the Commandos may encounter.

"Beardlings, today you are the sword of the Imperium," O'Malley voxes, "Be silent and swift, and you can quell this without incident."

Above, thick yellow clouds flow, while below the storm in the gas giant rages. Looking around, the landing zone seems somewhat empty. However, the Commandos can see an access point in one of the structures that leads into the facility. It seems there are indentations, as if things would fit all over. The patterns that the Commandos see in the flowing power conduits, though, are unfamiliar. Cortain approaches the door first, and he finds it seems to open automatically with a hiss, the glass and metal sliding into the structure. He signals everyone in as the Commandos raise their bolters.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAgLsG48lec

Cyril strides ahead of Brynjol, resettling his camo-cloak over winged pack. "I am the stealthiest, even without this equipment. Let me take point, brothers, and we will surprise the filth."

Entering the Landing Access Hallway, the ground rings with every step for now. The blue conduits on the ground pulse with every step. Steam leaks from the occasional pipe as the Commandos see another door ahead, which opens automatically as well.

Sneaking ahead, the Commandos are ninja as they enter a large assembly point. The three Fire Warrior Strikers on station patrol the corridor, two walking a route while one stands watch. Their Jet-black armor gives clear sign as to their allegiance.

Considering the best path is to reach them unawares, the Commandos take position. Cyril sneaks forward, and blasts the two Strikers on the ground, while Brynjol overcharges his jump pack, charging the one on watch. Brynjol cuts his jump pack on the descent, landing surprisingly light-footed and bisecting the Fire Warrior Striker with a hard, choked swing with both hands. The giblets of the former Striker fall off the edge of the station, into the gas giant below.

At this point, however, Cortain gets a sudden *BEEP BEEP* on his Graviton Data Codec. He hesitantly opens private comms.

"Contractor..." Deepthroat begins, "We have something for you to do while on your mission."
"And here I thought I would actually forget about this deal," Cortain sighs.
"The House never forgets."
"State the terms."
"We will start simple. Somewhere on that station, we've detected a cogitator bank, where they control the defenses. Find it, and open a hole in their security systems. We will take care of the rest."
"Sounds perfectly acceptable."
"We have reasons to believe that it is towards the lower levels of the top floors. Keep your augurs open. Deepthroat out."

Ahead, Brynjol can see the floor is made of blue energy. There are boxes and containers on the floor, moving along the paths of the energy. Some containers contain unrefined plasma fuel, it seems, while other containers hold only air. One path moves backwards, towards the staging area. Another moves deeper over an open air bridge into another part of the station.

"Deeper in, I suppose."

Heading along the Fuel Packaging Facility, the Commandos come to a large door which opens with a bright blue pulse. Here, they see a ramp that leads down, into lower decks of the station's protrusion. The other leads up, to the station's bulk proper. With every step, blue pulses head across the floor. Brynjol prods one of the blue pulses with his axehead warily, creating more pulses, as he impacts the ground.

"Downstairs, then?" Cortain suggests.
"The lower decks might hold something of interest to the Inquisition," Cyril states, "But I suspect their Kor'o will be found further inside the station proper."
"Perhaps we might find a security terminal there?" Cortain adds.
"Perhaps. I can scout in..." Cyril nods, "Bryn, you are leading us. Your opinion?"
"I defer to your judgement on this, Cyril," Brynjol grins, the gesture mirrored in his wolf mask, "You are, after all, our sneaker."
"Temur, any thoughts?" Cyril asks, :The station will need a thorough purge in any case, but I would rather press on after the Commander than tarry trying to find it."

"It would depend greatly on the function of the station, and how the designers laid it out," Temur thinks, "For all we are aware the control center could likely be at the bottom. Clearing this level seems prudent to begin with."
"Are you certain you could interface with this station even if we were to find what passes for a terminal here, Cortain?" Cyril asks, the final doubt on his mind.
"I have confidence," Cortain states flatly.

Heading downstairs, there is a smaller door that leads off to the side. It opens into a long glass-lined hallway that leads outside the station for a bit. Looking down, there are clear signs of battle down below, on a far lower deck. The Vorax are fighting the Tau, heavy battlesuits deployed to this new problem. Most, however, see a third party. The fight is a three-way. There are figures in white armor, that look somewhat spindly, fighting both the Vorax and the Tau. White components float around them, similar to how the four structures orbit the station. Their weapons are bizarre, shooting orange and yellow shards. Their outer shell, it almost seems like Wraithbone.

Cyril suggests moving in to assist, but Cortain barely remembers reading about such things in the archives. Half-seen synthetic constructs the Squats reported only once. "Eldar?" he thinks first, before he realizes that they're too fast and...mechanical. It becomes rapidly clear who built this station in the gas giant.

"Armiger Soldier constructs. They are of Old One construction," he states, "They seem more interested in the Tau.  Let the Vorax manage the case."

The Commandos don't quite understand, but accept Cortain's wisdom and move on. Passing the hallway, the Commandos come across a large storage area, more boxes of armaments laying about. Brynjol, however, hears a faint humming.

"Everybody get under cover," he suggests, "Something wicked this way comes."

Sure enough, a veritable cloud of Gun Drones fly overhead. The battle probably has their attention, however, and they are just chugging along. The cloud does not notice the Commandos, who choose not to engage. Having been passed by undetected, the Commandos resume their mission. 

Within this area there are two doors - one beyond the boxes forward, and one off to the side, to the right. The one forward is smaller.

"I would not like to repeat the previous errors, brothers," Temur states, "Let us clear side passages first, and be thorough."
"The smaller door might well be the 'side passage' in the twisted psyche of whatever beings made this place," Cyril shrugs. 

Nonetheless, the Commandos select the smaller forward door first, finding a small room overlooking a hanger. There's a hastily-assembled cogitator bank of Tau construction in this room. Cables extend out, into the hangar below, and further. The hangar is blocked off by an energy field similar to a Tidewall. There are a number of Tau in the hangar bay. You can even see battlesuits. The security station, however, is left empty, most likely due to the Vorax and Armiger Soldier problem being addressed.

"Those Crisis Suits will be tough," Brynjol notes.
"We should kill these tau and use their own cogitator for cover," Temur suggests, "they shoot back they wreck thier own equipment."
Cortain, however, has another idea. Accessing the cogitator and breaking past its simple initial security systems, he can see that this is a security node, one of many spread across the station to monitor anomalies. Cortain realizes it can be disabled and cycled from here, and does so. He puts in the codes, and the security systems stop. The screen then flickers, and he sees "Establishing connection..."

After a minute, "Connection Established," and the hangar shield goes down. While the Tau in the hangar are confused, the Commandos hear a dull thrumming. Purple transport ships suddenly decloak, spraying pulse autocannon fire everywhere from turrets. The landing craft deploy numerous Tau and Dark Eldar teams, who take the Tau in the hangar by surprise, before moving on.

"We should move somewhere less conspicuous," Cyril suggests.
Cortain scoots on out, mildly amused. "To the Commander, then?"

Leaving the Phantomfish and House Detachments behind, the Commandos take the larger pathway, which appears to be a narrow tube with a flare in the middle. The hallway pulses blue with every step, and reaching the central flare, the Commandos find enough room to stand and maneuver, as well as a blue Torch adjacent to a large box of what auspex readings identify as unrefined plasma.

"Got a selection of good things on sale, Stranger..." the Merchant rasps.

As a team, the Commandos manage to get Ion Shields for their VF/SS fighters. Cyril gets a Memorance Implant to better assist in his arts and crafts. Brynjol FINALLY gets his hexagrammatic wards for his armor. Temur throws caution and protocol to the wind, acquiring a Conversion Field. Cortain, however, gets himself a Djinn Skein, to better control the flow of battle and assist the other Commandos.

"Heh heh heh...thank you." The Merchant walks behind the plasmabox, disappearing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HgiI3fXnqM

The hallway rises higher into the core of the station itself. Arriving at the top of the hallway area, The Commandos see a large central area. It's clear maintenance was done here, but it is only recently that the Tau were the ones maintaining stuff. Small constructs flitting about, the same type of wraithbone material as the constructs earlier, buzzing around and repairing the station superstructure. The dull thrust of jet engines breaks the Commandos out of their observations, however, and while Cyril and Temur conceal themselves amongst the boxes and machinery, Cortain and Brynjol stand in the open, ready to challenge the three XV-8 battlesuits who have landed a little ways from them.

Brynjol immediately charges, yelling litanies of hatred. Each battlesuit appears to have a plasma rifle and a cyclic ion blaster, and Brynjol realizes it is going to be tough. He realizes it's gonna be tougher when the Tau utilize the abilities of their brand new formations to Supporting Fire each other. While Brynjol's Rosarius protects him from a number of plasma and ion shots, some get through. Brynjol takes heavy damage, but utilizes his new Wulfen Crozius to smash down a Crisis Suit. Temur leaps up to try and assist, but the Battlesuits detect him, and are able to dodge his grav cannon. Cyril them pops up, and kills another battlesuit with repeated storm bolter fire. The final battlesuit sees how spoopy he is, and actually fails its fear test, unable to approach, providing the perfect opening for Cortain to finish off the final battlesuit.

Brynjol grunts, rising from the corpse of the Crisis suited warrior, heavily favouring his augmetic leg. He moves to apply medicinal herb to his wounds as the rest of the Commandos move to explore the area. Finding a rounded elevatus, pulsating with energy and connected with a jury-rigged control panel, Cortain and Temur board it while Cyril leans in, taking an arm of the dead battlesuit pilots and having a nibble, letting the memories flow.

05:42, 13 June 2016 (UTC)[[Special:Contributions/24.205.112.238|24.205.112.238]]
The Crisis Suit squad is being deployed down from the roof.
"Affirmative, Kor'O Ky'Monat, we shall hold them off," one crisis pilot says.
"Good," a female voice says, "We have enough problems. These constructs, and now the House and Imperium are here. I will prepare everything from here. The fleet is almost here."
"We understand! For our lost honor! For Aun'o O'res'nan!"
05:42, 13 June 2016 (UTC)[[Special:Contributions/24.205.112.238|24.205.112.238]]

"Anything of value?" Cortain asks. 
"Eat one Tau and you have tasted them all, but their flesh is satisfactor-" Cyril halts, "Oh, the memories. It seems their Air Caste leader is above. It ordered them here to hold us off. It is a female."

The Commandos are in agreement - their quarry is above. Cortain sees the control panel, and presses the up button. The elevatus shudders, and begins to move up, slowly but surely. As the Commandos ascend, a voice echoes through the station's voxnet.

"Your reputation precedes you..." a familiar female voice says, "We're cut from the same cloth."
Cyril calls for silence, and everyone hunkers down.
"We're all alone in this sector, adrift, sometimes we even questioned our purpose," the voice continues, "Don't try to deny it, I know. You wondered if being dispatched here was a bad idea."
Checking their ammunition counts, the Commandos huddle up in formation.
"Let me tell you..." Ky'Monat continues, "Here, I found purpose, ideals to fight for, not Expansion or Caste, but something more, under the Aun'O O'Res'nan. Do you understand?"
"That was before we found a ship full of fabulous technology to make it worth something," Cortain admits, "Now I ask, what IS the Black Caste's purpose?"
"Shhh - it might not be speaking to us," Cyril suggests, "Let us maintain surprise if possible."
"Our purpose...we failed once before. But we looked inward, strengthened ourselves, fought for our own ideals now," Ky'monat replies, "Such things are not foreign to you, are they, Gue'ron'sha?"
"Okay, definitely speaking to us..." Cyril sighs
"That voice is going to get a boot in the arse!" Brynjol yells, swapping his Wulfen Crozius.
"Your ideals of your failing Imperium, your sector crumbling under its own momentum?" she asks, "You still fight for your ideals, do you not?"

The elevatus finally reaches the roof of the station. The Commandos are exposed to the open air, the roof of the station providing a clear opening. Something fast zooms by at incredible speeds in the sky.

"If you would kill for your ideals..." Ky'monat laughs, "Then surely you are ready to die for them!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-rj8HVW3PQ

"Come at me, boys!" Ky'Monat laughs.

Behind Ky'Monat, a Horde of Drones assembles, ready to provide cover fire. The Air Caste Commander, wearing a variant XV-0 class battlesuit, thin gossamer wings carrying her through the air, is armed with a pair of unique Ion Rifles with no stocks. Brynjol immediately charges forward, breaking through her shield and catching her before she can dodge with a hit from his Wulfen Crozius. But much to his surprise, Outsider links her Ion Rifles together into an ionized flexible staff. She then begins spinning, like a tornado. The wind at her back, she leaves an energized trail as she rolls into each of the Commandos, who manage to dodge, parry, or shield in equal measure. Landing, she separates her ion rifles and unloads into Cyril, who, out of dodges, is brought to criticals in a storm of ion fire. 

Temur fires his grav cannon, and though four shots are shielded, one shot breaks through. Though her armor is weak, and the damage is low in comparison, Outsider fails the stun test and falls beond line of sight, opening things up for Cortain and Cyril to thin out the drones surrounding them. The few remaining drones turn themselves into suicide bombs and rush forward, but the Emperor is with Cyril, and his armor tanks the drones barely.

The Commandos realize that what they need is speed. They hastily force themselves into Squad Mode, and get Brynjol going with a Tactical Advance, putting him into melee range of the stunned Ky'Monat. he then triggers his own Squad Mode, Wolf Pack tactics, to start beating the shit out of her. Though two hits are shielded, she takes inordinate damage, especially from a lucky fury. But she's not dead yet. Her stimulant injector kicks in, unstunning her, and she reclicks her Ion Staff together. She releases a set of lightning attacks, though only two hit. Brynjol shields the two, content.

But then, he asks if he can parry one instead despite the shield. That's when things get weird.

"Can you handle this?" Ky'monat laughs.

Brynjol sticks his arms out, and to his shock the Ion Staff wraps around his arm. Commander Outsider charges forward, dragging the very confused Brynjol around. She charges Temur, swinging Brynjol at him. However, Temur draws his power sword and tries to parry Brynjol. He actually succeeds, and suprisingly goes for a Counter-Attack. Brynjol shields the counter-attack, deflecting the sword directly into Commander Outsider.

Commander Outsider stops, staggering backward, blue blood leaking out, she begins to smile.
"You were wonderful..." she gurgle-laughs, "I see it now. Your ideals, perhaps they're stronger..."
Brynjol lands nearby with an anticlimactic thud and crunch.
"The rest of the H'esav'geka, will...enjoy you..." she falls, "I've studied...your dialects. I've...found one I'm quite...partial to. Ce fut un honneur de vous combattre...Je meurs sans douleur..."

The Commandos, however, are arguing over how to split the pieces of Ky'Monat when the air rumbles with a loud KABOOM, the Failsafe Detonator going off.

"Not... Again..." Cyril mutters.
"I WANTED A BLOODY SKULL TO TAKE BACK!" Brynjol cries.

Her twin-ion rifle staff falls to the ground. It may not be the best or most desired trophy, but it's something. Brynjol moves to cover the fallen Cyril, but the Two Urists in the Storm Ravens swoop in low.

"Lads!" Rockfist says, "We got a problem."
"The fleet?" Cyril asks. "No time to deal with the House forces, then. Urists, we need pickup at - oh. Good."
"Got it in one, lad. There's a Tau fleet in orbit," Rockfist says, "I advise leaving for the next objective. The Navy can deal with the fleet."

Brynjol plugs an interface lead from his armour into one of Cyril's chest ports as they head to the evac, monitoring his vitals as the Storm Ravens transport the Commandos and what is left of the Vorax Maniple back to the Blade. Cyril is in heavy need of assistance, as Brynjol delicately removes melted armor and flesh so he can perform some basic first aid.

"The plasma burnt straight through my breastplate. It needs removal for repair," Cyril sighs, "As much as I've had to have the armoury repair it, I will have an Artificer breastplate before long..."

As the Commandos leave, they see a white doglike quadrupedal construct walk on the roof, staring at the Storm Ravens depart. Cortain merely stares at the Old One Crawler as the Storm Ravens leave the operational area.

"Are they so numerous, Rockfist?" Cyril gasps through surgery,  We were to claim the station for the Inquisition."
"The inquisition has no knowledge of the station, actually. We simply needed to acquire new materiel before you may or may not have chosen to blow the station up. Do with it as you will. I will be in touch if I find out more about the H'esav'Geka. Deepthroat out."
The Commandos are slightly annoyed at being blatantly used, but reason that a greater threat was removed, so it makes it okay.

During the return trip, the Commandos decide that sending an encrypted message to the Inquisition about the station is in order, both to purge it and to gain intelligence of the constructs aboard it.  Arriving at the Blade, Rockfist and Thexus stand ready. While Brynjol orders Cyril to the medicae deck, Cortain and Temur are taken with Rockfist and Thexus to the bridge to manage blockade breakthrough operations. Cyril, not wanting to miss anything, crawls his way over to an elevatus that will bring him to the bridge.

"LEGIONARIES, WE CURRENTLY HAVE THE ADVANTAGE OF STEALTH WITHIN THE GAS CLOUDS. THE XENOS DO NOT KNOW WE ARE HERE," Thexus points out, "I ADVISE A DECISIVE STRIKE AS WE LEAVE."
"My thoughts exactly, Thexus," Cyril nods.
"So be it," Cortain commands, "Strike what remains of Ky'Monat's fleet."
"I am in agreement," Temur walks over to the weapons bays to review combat capabilities.

"DO YOU PREFER SPEED OR OFFENSIVE FORCE?" Thexus asks.
"We take them by force," Cortain states, "Their morale is shattered without their commanding naval officer."
"ACKNOWLEDGED. CHARGE THE ARC REACTOR AT YOUR LEASURE."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHbjDAfe40I

The Blade engages its engines, charging forward through the gas cloud.
Cortain enacts the rites that will Arc Charge the Blade's Arc Reactor, diverting all energy to the Accelerator Cannon.
"Atomantic Arc Reactor charged, lad. Accelerator Cannon primed. You may fire when ready," Rockfist says.
Ahead are a Protector Cruiser and a pair of Emissaries, with numerous Castellan support frigates behind the front line. Brynjol locks onto the largest target, the Protector, while Cyril sits in the gunner's seat, aiming carefully. 

"We make the Black Caste rue the day they ever set foot on the Emperor's Domain!" Cortain yells.

Cyril's aim is true. The Accelerator Cannon turns, splitting its three prongs and focusing its titanic energies. A massive lance of energy strikes forward at the Protector Cruiser, catching an emissary in the wide beam as well. The accelerator cannon burns its way through the two vessels in a monstrous flash of Atomantic Energy. Raking across the sky, a number of smaller ships are destroyed by the beam as well, as the Blade of the Long Watch makes its way out of system. The remainder of the enemy Tau fleet, deemed inconsequential, is left for the Imperial Navy based at Tempestus Solaris. As the Accelerator cannon goes to cool down, the Commandos have created enough of an opening to break through into the warp, and head towards the call for assistance at Ravenforge.
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