To my reviewers, I realize Kovash is a Tau name. I was not thinking about this when I wrote it. I was thinking about the Inquisitors full name: Mikal Gregor Kovash the III. See, it sounds less Tau now. N. Kage
Shaking like a leaf in the wind, the Thunderhawk plunged through the atmosphere, heat shields glowing red. Inside its armored hull sat a score of Space Marines, and a group of Inquisitorial followers, as well as one Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor. Their objective, as still obscured by distance and severe cloud cover was not visible from a porthole. Occasionally, lightening would split the sky, and illuminate the dark, night sky.
Sergeant Erasmus calmly checked his bolt pistol, making sure the magazine was inserted correctly, and that the machine spirits were properly placated. As the Thunderhawk pitched over another thermal, he quickly put the pistol back in the grox hide holster on his side. Having loaded weapons out and about during a rough landing was a good way to shoot someone, especially those damn Inquisitorials. There were three hard-bitten Imperial Guard veterans, two chanting Ecclesiarchy Priests, and one…something. It looked like it was formally a man, but something else was inhabiting the body. It was draped in heavy chains and wards, and would occasionally scream in an unnaturally high voice. Erasmus almost shot it when some of the chains it was bound in began to move on their own. Now, he tried not to look at it, but instead thought about the mission details. They were to land about one kilometer south of the Temple, fight their way into it, destroy the alter, and escape, meeting another Thunderhawk two kilometers east of the Temple on a plateau. Aerial pic-steals had revealed numerous ork war bands in the area, possibly inside the Temple. Survivability was rated as low. Erasmus smiled to himself; it was just another day as a Space Marine.
"Fifteen seconds to landing," Came the serf-pilot's disembodied voice over the intercom. The Thunderhawk was shaking badly now, one of the Priests vomiting all over the bay, splattering the Guard veterans, who cursed loudly. Inquisitor Mikal Kovash quieted them with a hard stare. The veterans just cursed under their breath, as they tried to clean the vomit from their matt-black carapace armor.
"Alright, Marines,' began Sergeant Topes, 'we all know how important this mission is, so I expect you all to do your duty. Praise the Emperor."
"Praise the Emperor!" bellowed every Marine in the bay, crashing their right fists over their breasts.
Erasmus felt his grav-harness tighten, and he braced himself for landing. With a bone-jarring jolt, the Thunderhawk touched down with a shriek of landing thrusters and the whoosh of super-heated air. With a clang, the hold's door shot open, the explosive bolts set into the frame functioning perfectly. The grav-harness's holding open the squads shot off, and Erasmus lead his squad out first, following the attack plan.
Even with his occulobe, Erasmus had trouble seeing in the pitch black, raining night. Only when lightening opened the sky, and thunder shook the air, could he see well. Several shapes flickered in and out of cover about one-hundred meters to the front. Silently, he motioned Topes forward and pointed out the direction of the movement. An acknowledgement rune flashed on the retinal display in his helmet. The dark green armored Marines moved forward as silently as possible, their armored feet barely disturbing the puddles of water. One of the Marines paused a moment and wiped the water from his helmet visor. Just as the squad was approaching where Erasmus saw the movement, a dozen muzzle flashes lit the night.
"Damn green skins were waiting!" Erasmus heard Topes curse into the vox. A melta gunner in the squad fired his weapon, and the thermal beam cut a swathe through the firing green skins. At least four were killed, instantly and painfully turned to fiery ash. Both groups were firing; the muzzle flashes so bright Erasmus felt his retinas involuntarily snap shut. Squad Topes charged forward, Topes at the front, his chainsword squealing. Erasmus could see little of fight, but another rune flashing on his display told him that Topes had finished the filthy beasts.
"Inquisitor, we have secured the site," Erasmus glanced back into the Thunderhawk as the Kovash strode out. He was wearing a full length, black storm-coat, lined with flak plates; his hands in tharr-hide gloves and around his waist sat a holstered bolt-pistol and some form of sword. Silhouetted against the light of the bay, he struck an imposing sight. Around him, the Priests huddled close, as if afraid of what the darkness might hold, while the Guard vet's kept an eye out.
The Inquisitor spoke, his voice a clarion call over the peals of thunder, "You all know the plan and the objectives, so I need not repeat those to you. Those who fall today shall always be remembered in the Inquisition as heroes. Do your duty to the Emperor." It was a short speech, but it cut home, even to Erasmus.
Squad Erasmus and Squad Topes fanned out in a diamond formation, with the Inquisitorial band in the center. Few orks were in the strike forces way, and those were easily dispatched by bolter, chainsword or combat knife. Erasmus consulted his auspex after twenty minutes of rapid march. According to the screen, they were within half a kilometer of the Temple, but Erasmus did not trust the technology, for auspex's had failed him before.
A sudden, bright muzzle flash caused him to drop to a crouch. A chattering autocannon of some sort had opened fire on the advancing party and was sending thick chains of fire at Squad Topes. Erasmus reacted quickly, flanking through a river bed that was choked with run-off. He jogged forward, every sense on overdrive, closing in on the position. A group of orks cut him off, armed with crude rifles and stick grenades. He raised his bolt-pistol and opened fire, the bolts shrieking through the air to kill two of the foul beasts.
"Purge the beasts, Brothers!" he shouted over the sound of the rain. Gunner Morenas used his flamer to flush the green skins into the open, where the bolters of squad felled them all, the orks blood turning the river to a sick, green color. Swiftly, Erasmus ran forward. He was to the right of the gun, the shear brightness of the flash causing his retinal display to darken and blind him. Cursing, Erasmus wrenched the helmet off. He could see the two ork gunners clearly, feeding the crude autocannon belts of heavy shells. He motioned Jorres to the front. The plasma-gun armed Brother needed to orders. He raised the ancient weapon to his shoulder and opened fire, the balls of glowing plasma immolating the crew and igniting the ammunition, lighting up the area like a torch.
"Advance Brothers, even a blind man would see this." Two clicks in his vox bead alerted him. He put his helmet back on and felt the seal hiss. A rune flashed on the display told him it was sealed perfectly. Squad Topes and the Inquisitor rejoined him. A quick head count told him no one was injured.
Before they had gone two hundred meters, the gigantic Temple loomed. Erasmus motioned everyone down and zoomed in his display. The image was out of focus for a moment, but cleared. He could see dozens of orks milling around a larger figure, who was gesturing towards the flames behind the Inquisitor, while firing his crude pistol in the air.
"We may have been spotted. We need to hook left to avoid them, and them we might be able to gain entrance to the structure." Erasmus said hurriedly. They would do the Imperium no good if they let a planet die.