The Last Defenders of Watch Fortress Enoch

Cinnamon Roll Meme

Deathwatch

“What does he know that should keep us from cutting him in half, the second we see him, Inquisitor?”

This time the quietest of the bunch had spoken up. The one clearly a son of Corax if not Raven Guard by his shoulder pad not identifying him as such. It happened to be the wrong color a plate mail metallic rather than the white of the Raven Guard.

“If the traitor is so dangerous, it would be better to silence him forever, than to keep him around. If you know something, now is the time to share. You are expecting we, of this brotherhood to trust you, to see you through this. It is time to start earning that Inquisitor. Unless you enjoy feeling very alone over there.”

The Astartes nodded to this, agreeing with their brother’s sentiments. It was as plain as the black armor they wore, that she was isolated over there, with a killteam that had been together for Emperor knew how long staring her down. She was the outsider, this Astartes was offering that to change, but she would have to earn it.

“Machiavelli is correct Inquisitor.” Came the rasp and thick accent that accompanied his long, once stark red beard. It was a clearer marker than he was a Space Wolf than even his should pad or axe. He looked considerably friendlier towards her than the others too. “You may not have sought us out, but here you are. Lean into the blow, not away from it.”

‘Unless you enjoy feeling very alone over there.’

The subtlest twitch of her eyes narrowing was the only betrayal as to how effective the statement was. Verit let out a sigh, doing her best not to be overly irritated at their questions. They weren’t Grey Knights, they were Deathwatch - they weren’t just going to follow her orders, or literally read her mind to get the answers they needed. 

“It is not fair for you to gang up on me.” The quip is accompanied by a slight smile, more trying to ease her own tensions than theirs. Her hands go to her hips, though her shoulders slack as she shifts her stance.

“Heretics rarely work alone, if they want to be successful in their goals. Our target is no exception. While my immediate goal is the artifact, due to the danger it presents, the uprooting of the group willing to unleash such a thing on hive worlds is my long-term mission. However, despite my best efforts to identify more associated with this sect, and where they may be operating from, our target is the sole contact I have been able to positively identify, connect, and track down in the past three years.”

Not for lack of trying. She heavily suspected the group had agents among the Arbites and Administratum on worlds they operated on, concealing their activities. If she could get a live member to interrogate… maybe there’d finally be some headway. But if he died, she’d have to start over. If they failed in this entirely… well. The Inquisitor didn’t want to think about that.

Kree, with a broad smile, stroked his beard and looked at the Inquisitor. “You come to the wolf pack and don’t expect to be ganged up on?” There was a chuckle that reverberated between all of the Deathwatch Marines even Ezikel.

“She will do, Ezikel, if she lives.” Kree looked back at his Watch Sergeant and nodded, which gained a nod of approval from him. She had dropped the wall and now all the Astartes moved a few steps over, and she seemed to have been drawn into the ring of them.

“If I had better supplies I could” Aestra complained, pushing the rag around with one foot. This rag is so threadbare it’s practically vapour. If you see fit to supply me with something better this floor would shine like glass.“

It had been several months since her disastrous run-in with the deathwatch and she was taking it with her usual grace. Spared the bolter, they had quickly found work for her. As obnoxious as she was, the former slave-turned-archon was a hard worker, and ego prevented her from doing a poor job. Thus this criticism filled her with annoyance.   

He returned several minutes later with what looked like the disassembled parts of a servitor meant for cleaning. As he was now carrying a mop and bucket in one hand and a bundle of cloth rags attached together. Dropping them in front of her.

He looked at the stain again. “I stand corrected, that’s Traitor Astartes blood. Must be from that break in a Terran month before we captured you.”

Unfortunately for Aestra, her snarky vox work had been easy to track. The team had descended upon her and in an act of calculated brutality, liberated her from her former life. Upon sparing her, they found her very useful. The traitor‘s that had appeared from the Great Rift had ruined much, most of all, all of their maintenance servitors, which meant that they had needed a replacement and Aestra Khromys had made a good one.

“That should do you a greater service, so long as you put your effort into it.”

He turned on his heel and marched off deeper into the unwelcoming metal of the Watch Fortress Enoch.

Kree, for his part, shook his head and pushed, gently, Spero ahead of him. “Don’t mind the Watch Sergeant. He’s never been the most cheerful Astartes, but he’s always been specific on time. Especially since we ended up alone. Just because we’re alone, doesn’t mean the requests for aide or mission files from the Ordo Xenos stopped coming in. There’s only us and precious little time to waste on anything that isn’t an objective or getting to one.”

They soon came upon a briefing room where three other marines stood. Ezikel set his stormbolter down and gestured to the mortal. “This is the addition we’ve been saddled with by direct request and favor. Don’t let her get in your way, but try to make sure she lives long enough to complete her objective.”

An Astartes, pale of skin and dark of hair pointed at the mortal. “What is she doing here anyhow?”

“Who in the Ordo Xenos is stupid enough to think that’s a good idea, much less want to record one of our missions?”

It was an honest question if a little crass. The Watch Sergeant simply shrugged. “No idea, but they do, so here she is.”

He turned and looked back at Spero. “Two things, first, introductions. You already know me and Kree Wolfbane of the Space Wolves.”

He pointed at the one that had asked what her purpose here was. “This is Machiavelli of the Knights of the Raven.” He then gestured to indicate the one who’d just spoken, the Templar. “That is Gottfried of the Black Templars.” He pointed to the last member of killteam. Though he was fair of visage and quite good looking, a son of Sanguinius in purity, but, he radiated a sense of danger, barely contained. “Last, but certainly not least, Flan of the Flesh Tearers.”

“Kill mission.” Simple words, but changed the tone.

“Kill mission.” It was repeated by every member of the Killteam.

They all looked at her, five sets of eyes peering into her soul, or so it seemed. Zek took the lead again. “Tell us about this item you’re looking for us to secure?”

Parameters had changed and now so required the knowledge they needed. Ezikel didn’t like this back and forth game too much but knew it was necessary. At least for now. The Inquisitor would tell his team what he needed to know, because now, whatever they were extracting was potentially worse than a host of Genestealers; the mission had changed to wasting her contact and taking the item as he was a tainted threat himself. Unless she made a damn good argument as to a reason they should bother not just cutting him in half with bolter fire. 

The Inquisitor didn’t like the sound of ‘kill mission’. If the man died, as much as she claimed it to be preferable to his escape, there was to be a significant source of information lost. She set her jaw, doing her best to ignore the piercing stares of the Astartes. Her side of the table was feeling awfully small and lonely.

“The artifact itself is, as far as I am aware, some sort… data-storing pyramid. If the information I have is reliable, it is capable of emitting a signal to act as a beacon through the Warp, and to potentially transmit information in that manner. However. This beacon attracts the servants of the Ruinous Powers, and weakens the Veil significantly, moreso over time. This is the function the sect likely wishes to use it for.”

This time the quietest of the bunch had spoken up. The one clearly a son of Corax if not Raven Guard by his shoulder pad not identifying him as such. It happened to be the wrong color a plate mail metallic rather than the white of the Raven Guard.

“If the traitor is so dangerous, it would be better to silence him forever, than to keep him around. If you know something, now is the time to share. You are expecting we, of this brotherhood to trust you, to see you through this. It is time to start earning that Inquisitor. Unless you enjoy feeling very alone over there.”

The Astartes nodded to this, agreeing with their brother’s sentiments. It was as plain as the black armor they wore, that she was isolated over there, with a killteam that had been together for Emperor knew how long staring her down. She was the outsider, this Astartes was offering that to change, but she would have to earn it.

The torch in question was mounted to the Veteran Watch Sergeant’s shoulder and shown brightly, illuminating and blinding the Guardsman in the deep darkness.

It had been backed up by a boltgun being pointed at the male intruder. It wasn’t entirely likely he could see the weapon pointed at him. A harsh metallic sounding voice came from the Marine.

It was no lasgun, and that was all that mattered to him.  He wasn’t planning on running out and getting killed by the orks anyway. He knew his place in a field full of Space Marines; out of the way so they could do their job, watching the sides and picking off targets of oppertunity while basically just hiding. Perhaps not the most…courageous thing. But he had not survived this long by being a fool. 

He handed the hellgun to the Guardsman as Kree walked pass and practically knocked the mortal over with a hearty pat on the back. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just a blowhard. When the bloodlust and battle drunkness hits him, stick near me little one. Flan has been known to not pay attention to his targets.”

For a guardsman, a Marine was almost as good as cover. They were beefy and moved fast, and enemies tended to focus on them, not the squishy lightly armored normal human. He’d worked with the Star Ospreys before; the “quarterbacks” in front with the larger linebackers behind them and then lines of Guardsmen firing over their heads with long las and rockets. It worked pretty well. 

Hadn’t done that same tactic alongside such notiriously vicious Marine members though. This was going to prove interesting.

Kree didn’t argue this, lying to the infantryman now, wouldn’t really do them any good. They were going to try and kill a Warboss and then extract. While it might be just another day at the office for a killteam of the Deathwatch, it wasn’t for the squishy soldier standing amongst demigods of the Emperor’s wrath.

Kree spoke up at that moment. “You mean you his extraction is essential?”

Ezikel had caught it too. None of the brothers were wearing their helmets and his eyes were harder than even the Templar’s. He looked at her with a penetrating gaze.

“I suggest you now fill us in on what you’ve been keeping. I won’t walk into a mission that can be solved by a few simple lance strikes. Why is his extraction being prevented, when his extraction was our initial mission? What aren’t you telling us, Inquisitor?”

Verit blinked, before realizing her mistake. To her credit, at least, she met Ezikel’s gaze evenly while deciding it best to explain. “Apologies. Preventing his extraction via his own allies is essential. It would be ideal for us to capture him ourselves, but should it come down to his escape or his death, the latter is the acceptable outcome.”

“While I would love nothing more than avoiding the danger and solving this mission with ‘a few simple lance strikes’, as you so kindly put it, there is a high chance that such a solution will only cause further complications. If everything in the area is obliterated, then a positive identification is impossible. Determining if he has already passed off the artifact, impossible.”

“Kill mission.” It was repeated by every member of the Killteam.

They all looked at her, five sets of eyes peering into her soul, or so it seemed. Zek took the lead again. “Tell us about this item you’re looking for us to secure?”

He turned on his heel and marched off deeper into the unwelcoming metal of the Watch Fortress Enoch.

Kree, for his part, shook his head and pushed, gently, Spero ahead of him. “Don’t mind the Watch Sergeant. He’s never been the most cheerful Astartes, but he’s always been specific on time. Especially since we ended up alone. Just because we’re alone, doesn’t mean the requests for aide or mission files from the Ordo Xenos stopped coming in. There’s only us and precious little time to waste on anything that isn’t an objective or getting to one.”

They soon came upon a briefing room where three other marines stood. Ezikel set his stormbolter down and gestured to the mortal. “This is the addition we’ve been saddled with by direct request and favor. Don’t let her get in your way, but try to make sure she lives long enough to complete her objective.”

An Astartes, pale of skin and dark of hair pointed at the mortal. “What is she doing here anyhow?”

“We will insert via airdropped Razorback, from there we will take this sub-highway route to your target’s last known transmission. Lighting up everything that isn’t Imperial that moves along the way. Emperor being with us, we’ll make it there before the spider at the center of the Genestealer Cult’s nest can rally his filthy kin against us. The last thing you or your target want is to be fighting every Emperor damned Genestealer in the area and then the Patriarch itself to accomplish this mission.”

Ezikel’s ceramite encased finger traced out the route of their travel.

“Since they are currently still engaging the local PDF and Militarum forces, if we do this right, that shouldn’t be a problem. As for you personally, you’re to pick a Veteran and stick to him like epoxy. We will keep you in the center of our formation and once we reach the target, you will extract your contact or lead us to where ever the idiot mortal bedded down. All the while, I suggest you pray. Fervently.” 

Oh.

There’s a twist of nervous pain in her chest as her heart threatens to skip a beat merely at the idea at being airdropped in. Now was likely a bad time to mention her fear of heights - oh well. She’d have to deal with it to get her job done. It was fine. She’d be fine. Right?

The Inquisitor focused on the plan, memorizing the route they were to take as Ezikel traced it out. Her gaze flickers up to the squad, briefly flitting over the options she would have. Which one was least likely to be annoyed by her presence? She didn’t know them well enough to be able to gauge that. Likely Ezikel himself.

Ezikel had caught it too. None of the brothers were wearing their helmets and his eyes were harder than even the Templar’s. He looked at her with a penetrating gaze.

The torch in question was mounted to the Veteran Watch Sergeant’s shoulder and shown brightly, illuminating and blinding the Guardsman in the deep darkness.

It had been backed up by a boltgun being pointed at the male intruder. It wasn’t entirely likely he could see the weapon pointed at him. A harsh metallic sounding voice came from the Marine.

It was no lasgun, and that was all that mattered to him.  He wasn’t planning on running out and getting killed by the orks anyway. He knew his place in a field full of Space Marines; out of the way so they could do their job, watching the sides and picking off targets of oppertunity while basically just hiding. Perhaps not the most…courageous thing. But he had not survived this long by being a fool. 

He handed the hellgun to the Guardsman as Kree walked pass and practically knocked the mortal over with a hearty pat on the back. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just a blowhard. When the bloodlust and battle drunkness hits him, stick near me little one. Flan has been known to not pay attention to his targets.”