Editing Republican Commando (section)

===(38) The Princely Arts===
<div class="mw-collapsible-content">
The living crew is quite quiet - most are unsure over whether or not to call the previous mission a victorious one. Some may have taken hits to their self-respect as well. One must reconcile who they believe they are with what they did on Iniega. But the past is the past, and the worlds of the Imperium still cry for help. The Knight World of Paramara is still under siege from the Tyranids, the infestation growing ever greater. Meanwhile, the Tau have begun a new push on Sors Natio - the blockade taking heavy damage, and patches are beginning to be seen.

Brynjol leans on the holodeck table, stripped to the waist. The heating in his quarters is far too high above absolute zero.
"So, our options. A stand-up fight, or another bug hunt," Brynjol announces, grinning, "I vote for the bug hunt."
"I won't lie, lad," Rockfist nods, "Any strike against the ancestral enemy is a worthy one. Jus' give the order an' we'll be on our way."
Cortain is holding his vote, as he is doubting the wisdom of his actions. Brynjol slaps him on the back.
"Emperor-cursed bugs! Let's do it!" he yells excitedly.
"Agreed, the tyranids will be much harder to dig out and eradicate the longer we leave them in place," Temur concurs. Brynjol gives the order to depart as fast ast possible by means of expansive hand gestures.
"Aye, lads," Rockfist says, a spring in his step, "We'll set out immediately!"

Leaving the immediate space around Iniega, the Blade is on its way to the steamy, hot jungle world of Paramara, home of Knight Kshatra. 

Cortain heads to the hangar to analyze and verify the new deliveries. In the Launch Bay, a number of Squats are hauling around a bunch of secondary weapons for the VF/SS's. One looks like a big missile bank, which he can identify as an ADMM system, while another looks like a two-pronged lance with a projector within. He can pretty much identify it as the mass-produced version of the Excalibur TLS.  The last set...a bunch of heavy missiles, eludes him. The invoice lists them as "SWBMs" and anti-air, but as for anything about them, Cortain is drawing a blank. He reviews sector archivae to determine expected combat forms, and finds he can expect them to field the normal Hive Crones and Harpies, as well as heavier organisms like Harridans if things have gotten real.

Temur idly checks Thexus's forge at the Manufactorum, and can see a number of new things being worked on. They seem to be tiny components, bearing connectors that look like the slots in Vachir. Scrutinizing the pieces further, it looks like there's at least three augments, maybe more, while Vachir only seems to have two slots. At least one reminds Temur of a shield generator, while another is reminiscent of an auspex. Something else catches his eye, however.

There's an old, yellowing sheet, from a pict-recorder. He can faintly see images on it. The colors of the pict are quite heavily faded, but Temur can still make things out. It's Thexus, chest skull looking grim as ever. There are also a couple of space marines near him. One is in deep blue, looking deathly serious. Another is in white and blue, walking off. One is in white and green armor, laughing jovially, his hand on Thexus's side. Other forms appear in the back. They appear to resemble battle automata, but it is impossible to tell - the background is too faded. Sensing potential plot, the Commandos walk over, teleport, coalesce, and in general make their presences known nearby. Only Cyril remains in his quarters, in restful sleep.

"Thexus had friends?" Brynjol says in shock, "By the Emperor..."
Behind the three Commandos, a clang echoes as Thexus drops some raw materials near his forge.
"PRAETORS, WE SHALL ARRIVE AT THE TARGE-"
He stops, however, as he sees everyone clustered about the old pict-print.
Brynjol turns to Thexus, with the pict in hands, "...Old compatriots?"
"REMNANTS OF...HAPPIER TIMES, PRAETOR. WHEN THE CRUSADE WAS UNSTOPPABLE. WHEN OUR DIRECTION WAS CLEAR."
The Commandos all note Thexus seems a little less...yelly
"WE WERE ALL TOGETHER THEN, THE LEGIONS, THE EXCERTUS, THE MARKED...THE PICT YOU HOLD IS ANCIENT, PRAETOR."
Thexus carefully grabs the image with a mechadendrite, with care uncharacteristic of the forceful Executor.
"Have you considered laminating it?" Brynjol asks, releasing the pict. The Wolf Priest is lost for words.
"MORDICUS...OLD FRIEND..." A mechanical wheeze echoes forth, almost like a sigh, as Thexus's chest skull focuses on the laughing figure, "THERE WAS NO WAY TO KNOW..."
"I can do rites of pict restoration," Cortain begins, before he realizes the Paragon is lost in memories.
"THERE IS LITTLE POINT, PRAETOR. THE DAMAGE OF AGES IS DONE. COLORS OF KODACHROME FADE WITH TIME," Thexus blasts, then turning to Brynjol, "SHOULD THAT PICT ONE DAY DISINTEGRATE, IT WILL BE AS YOU SAID, PRAETOR - TIME TO MOVE ON."
"The brotherhoods have a saying, Executor. no warrior is turly lost so long as his stories are told," Temur offers, "Perhaps sometime you might wish to share them with us. I would be interested to listen."
"PERHAPS I WILL, WHEN THERE IS TIME, AND THE NEXT TARGET DOES NOT APPROACH AS FAST AS IT CURRENTLY DOES," Thexus yells as he places the pict in an armored pauldron compartment.
"Very well then," Temur gestures to the parts being worked on, "I would also inquire as to these another time."
"THE DIN OF BATTLE, THE ROAR OF BOLTER FIRE, THE BURNING OF PHOSPHEX," Thexus says, "WE WERE MIGHTY BECAUSE WE WERE RIGHT. BUT SUCH THINGS CAN END SO QUICKLY."
Thexus begins to adjust the components.
"THEY WILL BE READY SOON."

Cyril's rest is bizarrely stormy.

As the Blade begins the transition to the Materium, the emergency alart begins to blast. Rockfist, in full battle armor, stands at the bridge. Rose is also in her armor, though she is popping aspirinatus from the medicae deck like water. All Squats have arrived at battle stations.

"Are you planning to help fight?" Cortain asks.
"Lad, ye know I won't dare miss any action against the Great Devourer!" Rockfist says enthusiastically, "Especially when their bioships are comin' right at us!"
Brynjol arrives next, calmly removing the bottle of aspirin from Rose's hands
"You have a human liver. Look after it," Brynjol scolds her, "Otherwise you won't live-r very long!"
Brynjol laughs uproariously, as a squat on the bridge collapses from an anyeurism.
Cyril lumbers onto the bridge distractedly, even his spess physique unable to get good rest. He facepalms with a clang. "Why did I get up for THIS?"
"Ye didn't lad," Rockfist says, pointing out the window, "I think ye got up for THEM."
Cyril turns his head to the view. "Oh, yes. Nidhoggr. HA HA!"

In the inky black void of spess, a large Bioship and a number of Biocruisers are on approach, tentacles, claws, and teeth flowing in the winds of spess.
"Battle stations," Cortain yells, "Oh, how I have been waiting to see a bioship!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6SylRSSk1g

Ahead of the Commandos, a Devourer and Hive Ship approach, the former offset at a 2VU diagonal. On each side, a Razorfiend cruiser approach from the port and starboard direct. The Commandos decide that, as always, a lightning strike to disable their best offensive capabilities is in order. Turning port and advancing, volkite implosion spheres from the grand bombards burn away the spore clouds from the hive ship, allowing Temur the perfect shot as Cortain Arc-charges the Accelerator Cannon.

"The Accelerator cannon is charged!" Rose yells, as she rubs her head and reaches for some water.
"Take the shot, Brother!" Cyril yells.

The Accelerator cannon splits into three rapidly spinning prongs. The weapon begins to cycle its enormous atomantic energies, before splitting the sky itself with an all-consuming nuclear lance. The fury of the Emperor know no bounds as, despite lances of light not having mass particles, the recoil from the gargantuan Accelerator Cannon actually lists the Blade to the side. Even the toughness of a hive ship cannot hold, as it and the Devourer disappear under the surge of energy. The Accelerator Cannon begins to vent, smoke drifting into the Winds of Spess.

Cyril rocks with the unexpected motion, magboots anchoring him to his command station as he barks, "How close are those Razorfiends?!"
He does not have long to wait, as the two Razorfiends twitch a bit, now out of synapse, and immediately charge forward for a nibble. Cortain is surprisingly giddy at seeing the beastly bioships up close. His enthusiasm cuts as the Blade is pummeled by pyro-acid, scalded by bioplasma, corroded by spores, and bitten by one of the Dauntless-sized bioship, damaging the hull and the engine. 

The Commandos cannot take such hits lightly. They fail to escape the bite, and thus lock on to the one that soared over them. Immobilized the Blade may be, but its weapons are still hot. Volkite blasts cut into the Razorfiend, while the Accelerator Cannon bombards it. Cyril orders boarding parties of battle automata aboard the attached Razorfiend, to cut them loose.

"I'll...be right back, lad..." Rockfist backs away, "I'm gonna join the toaster and smash some bugs meself!"
"Give them the what for!" Cortain orders, "Make them pay for hurting this ship!"

While Rockfist takes his squats about, and Thexus just walks forward burning everything down, the Razorfiend begins to shudder about as it burns blue-green from the inside. Brynjol stands at the door, ready to repel boarders. Swarms of Tyranids begin to swarm the Blade, but they run into a problem, specifically, 'getting in the way of a Space Wolves Praetor.' Bioplasma continues to hammer the Blade, and the Commandos are eager to finish off the xenos filth.

Realizing most of the Bioships' damage comes from lance-type weaponry, Cortain Arc Charges the hull, and the Blade's ferromantic runes of invincibility begin to glow, strengthening the Blade's armor. Brynjol can be heard through the decks, howling triumphantly, interspersing with the sonorous music of chainsword and the hissing of alien blood. Cortain fires a volkite salvo at the turning Razorfiend, destroying it utterly, as Brynjol finally manages to break free of the last Razorfiend. Temur fires the Accelerator Cannon, bursting apart Tyranid spore clouds while Cyril orders battle-servitor controlled bomber craft out. The Fire Raptors target weak spots on the creature, and surgically hit various parts of the bioship. Its screeches echo across the winds of spess as it pops.

High above the green jewel of Paramara, the Commandos can see the remnants of a large fleet. While most bear the heraldry of the Imperial Navy, there are a few that bear the heraldry of House Askari and House Excelsus. Augurs pick up sporadic battles all about, as the Navy fights off Tyranid ships.

Cyril smirks as the feeds from the boarders cut. "Messier than it should have been. The Razorfiends caught up faster than anticipated. Alright, time to get to work; take us in, Bryn. Any transmissions, Cortain?"

Tuning the Augurs through the Navy battle cant and calls for help and assistance, Cortain can pick up a request in high gothic for immediate recovery. It's coming from deep in the jungles, away from most of the vox traffic. 

"This call concerns me," he notes, "It might be a Lance in dire trouble."
"Ready a drop-pod," Brynjol suggests, "Fast response seems to be the order of the day."
"Aye, lad," Rockfist nods, stepping up and covered in as much ichor as Brynjol is, "Fast response IS the order. We've got yer VF/SS's ready."
The Commandos nod appreciatively, reviewing vox traffic and augur readings.
"Jus' tell us what ya want fer yer VF/SS's an' we'll load it up for ya," Rockfist says, "I don't think there's much time left for whoever's down there..."

The Commandos head to the launch bay and select their weapons. Brynjol selects XLAAs and the new SWBMs. Cortain readies XLAAs and QAAMs. Temur picks the TLS and Kraken missiles while Cyril selects XLAAs and ADMMs.

"Yer fighters are ready, lads," Rockfist nods, "Happy huntin'."
"And you, Rockfist," Cyril replies, "Keep some Hearthguard on standby. Brynjol, care to lead us?" He cycles to Strike Mode and back as a brief test, then falls in behind Brynjol, mentally cycling through weapon controls through his MIU.  
"Bloody right!" he yells, declaring the Rite of Executioners of Fenris, "Let's nab 'em."

The Launch bay is cleared, and the VF/SS's are launched into the void. For a brief moment, it's easy to forget that this beautiful green world, with bright blue oceans, planetwide jungles, and expansive beaches and rivers is currently being shit on by Tyranids. However, the signal is clear, and the Commandos break through the clouds over the tree cover. The vox traffic gets clearer and clearer as the Commandos fly closer to the origin, and it becomes evident that, over a small, isolated castellum, the Raja of House Kshatra is within. It is surrounded by Cerastus frames, fighting off waves from the jungles. While the Kshatriyan Guard below proudly fly their banners and charge into the fight, a screech in the air draws their attention.

"House Kshatra's head is under assault! We have an extraction!" Cyril voxes back a note as an afterthought, requesting that someone keep an eye on the Fire Raptors and that the Blade assist Navy vessels. A pair of Harpies and a pair of Hive Crones are coming, all ahead, and the Commandos' attention is once more laser-focused on what's ahead.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FY1fVrI2NFQ

"Commandos!" Rose says, "I'm ready to assist. I spoke with Rockfist and O'Malley - they said that while Harpies are innately tough, Hive Crones are heavily-armored for void operations."
"Duly noted," Cyril says, moving to the phase control on his VF/SS, "Thank you, Rose."

Brynjol begins immediately by switching to Strike Mode and, lance couched, starting a charge against a Hive Crone. The creature dodges, unfortunately, leaving Brynjol to get a hit with the Energized Chainblade. 

"Hit confirmed," Rose says, "You cut into its armor a little."

Cyril, in the meantime, decides to fire off the ADMMs at everything around him.  A series of vents opens up along the VF/SS side and rear, and a storm of missiles burst out, splitting into even smaller missile swarms as they approach the targets. Each missile explodes in a small burst, lightly damaging the Tyranids, but more importantly, eating their dodges.

"Cyril, DRIVE," Rose announces, "Hits confirmed! They're hurting!"
"They have not even BEGUN to hurt!" Cyril counters, as he switches his plasma weapons to Fleshbane mode and downs a Harpy.

The Tyranid creatures aim their weapons at the Commandos. Armed with exotic biomorphs unique to Hive Fleet Nidhoggr such as Fusion Claws, Magma Cannons, and Ignis-Corroders, the Commandos try to dodge the fire and parry the claws, putting their faith in the Emperor as well as in their ion shields. Only Cyril, confident of his armor, takes a punishing hit when he chooses not to dodge. 

Temur, seeing an opening, enables the TLS, a reproduction of the original Excalibur Tactical Laser System. Below his VF/SS, the Tactical Laser System extends in a double prong, the projector within firing a bright blue laser that rakes across the sky. Beginning with a Harpy, Temur rakes the weapon across the creatures for as long as he can, inflicting the killing blow on a Hive Crone.

"Temur, SLASH," Rose announces, "Brynjol's Hive Crone is down, and heavy damage noted across all Tyranids!" Temur concludes with a Kraken to the Hive Crone, opening the way for Cortain to attack. Swapping to fleshbane phase, Cortain guns down the final Harpy, and a swarm of XLAA's impact the final Hive Crone, downing it as well.

"Fox two, kill confirmed!" Rose says, "Watch out, there's more incoming!"

As the last Hive Crone falls under Cortain's missile barrage, more are coming in. While the Knights are now free to cover the ground, two more Hive Crones and Harpies are flying in.
"Bring. Them. ON!" Cortain yells.
Behind them, however, is a large Harridan, fusion claws glowing.
"Well, that is going to require some strategy."
"Indeed it does, lad," Rockfist voxes, briefly interrupting Rose, "Might I recommend the Ol' Cyberdemon strategy?"
"Shoot the big one?" Cyril asks, chortling appreciatively, "I think I want its head for the trophy room."

Brynjol is up now - distance to new wave about 150 meters. This is not close enough to charge, regrettably. He fires plasma at the Harridan, eating its dodge, but saving his next-best weapon for later.

"Guns hit confirmed, nice!" Rose says, "Another salvo like that and you should down it!"

Now with confirmation, Brynjol fires the next step, the SWBM. A Shockwave Ballistic Missile launches, and his VF/SS jerks, becoming visibly lighter. The missile flies at the Harridan, and explodes in a blast of light, before bursting outward in a massive radius, catching two Hive Crones and a Harpy in the blast.

"I like this," Cortain notes, "I like this a lot."
"Brynjol, BURST," Rose announces, "Incredible hit! You've disoriented them heavily!" 
"Finally, a missile launcher I can get behind!" Brynjol says, "Can I strap one of these to my armour?"

Cyril resumes the pressure, continuing the concentrated fire on the Harridan, the Flesbane-phased plasma destabilizing its internal furnace, and sending it down, before firing XLAAs against a Hive Crone. Temur continues with the TLS once more, killing a Hive Crone, and allowing Cortain to surge up and dogfight a Hive Crone, while further weakening the remainders with XLAAs. Only two Harpies remain now, which Brynjol begins to charge at while everyone dodges incoming fire. Temur and Cyril take further damage to their VF/SS's, but Brynjol is now in the perfect position to attack. Firing his own XLAA's, and downing one of the severely weakened Harpies, Brynjol makes the charge, blasting through the remaining one with his plasma lance.

"We seem to be breaking through their fliers, and are moving to extract the Raja," Cyril states, "Have the Hearthguard ready to deploy, whether by drop pod or teleportarium."
Vox traffic begins to clear.
"Ah, Commandos, we are thankful for your support," one of the Kshatriyan Guard states, "We have held the ground while you have covered the sky."
"In turn, we are thankful for your undoubtedly arduous role in defending this world," Cortain replies.
"There is a lull in the fighting," another says, "It is a good time to discuss the retaking of Adara. We offer you welcome into the Castellum below, for the Raja wishes to meet you personally."
"Acknowledged; we are inbound," Cyril confirms, "Thank you."

There are open spaces near the Castellum, enough to land in Strike mode, at least. Brynjol swoops down, ignoring bleated flight protocols, and smugly flips his VF/SS into Strike mode before landing with a crash. Cyril does a victory loop around the coordinates of the Harridan's destruction, scanning for remains as he shifts to Strike Mode and prepares to land.

The soft, muddy ground gives slightly under the weight of the VF/SS's. With a lull in the fighting, most of the Knights of House Kshatra are disembarking, taking ropes down from the large Cerastus frames. Most are, surprisingly armored in scale and other older armor types. They begin to gather as the great banners hanging off the Knight frames, depicting the many aspects of the emperor, flap in the wind. It's hot and muggy on this world, and insects buzz about. Armor autocogitators show that in such conditions, the temperature only feels hotter as a result. It is now at this altitude that the Commandos can get a good look at the surroundings, particularly the Castellum they were defending - it seems covered in statues and eikons. It is as much temple as is fortress.

"Interesting architecture," Temur observes, "Let us go finish this meeting, and finish cleansing this world."
"Of course," one of the armored men says, "The Raja awaits within." One man blows a horn, and the armored doors of the Castellum slowly open to the dark interior. The armored men of the Kshatriyan Guard begin to walk within, the bright light outside replaced with flickering torchlight.

Within the Castellum-Templum, the Commandos can see numerous grottos and eikons lining the halls. On occasion, someone stops to utter a prayer before moving on. Some chambers are larger than others. They hold larger statues of the God-Emperor, suffused in orange torchlight. One chamber, though, is suffused in blue, an inconsistency noted as the Commandos walk through the Castellum-Templum. Temur moves to check the odd chamber, Brynjol skipping after him gleefully, both knowing full well what to expect.

"Got a selection of good things on sale, stranger..." the Merchant whispers from behind a thin patterned window. The Merchant's thatching obscures most of him, but there is still an opening.

Temur upgrades the VF/SS with additional structure points, the first-tier upgrade. Cortain finally decides to acquire some good-quality cortex implants, to give himself unnatural intelligence and boost his lores and logic abilities. Cyril upgrades everyones' VF/SS with a new OPTION slot, allowing them to carry a third type of missile weapon. Brynjol selects Neo-Plasma Power Cells for Crusader Invictus, boosting the God Machine's damage further. As a team, the Commandos select Archeotech Drive Conduits, boosting Crusader Invictus's speed.

"Heh heh heh, thank you..." the Merchant rasps, as he walks through a door behind him.

Proceeding through the halls, the Commandos' suits autosenses now picking up the scent of burning incense, they are brought to a quiet meditation area, where the Kshatriyan Guard take supporting positions. An older, tall man in the center rises, putting on his helmet, before turning.

"My regards, Republican Commandos," the man states, "You are known to us. Welcome to Paramara."
Brynjol takes off his helmet, dumping a mane of black hair onto his shoulders. 
"Nothing like a good brawl to start off a visit!" Brynjol says.
Cyril stands straighter to sign the Aquila, then approaches casually. "If you can call gunning down Nidhoggr vermin a brawl," Cyril snorts, "They are tougher than most Hive Fleets, but Mi-go puts them to shame."
"I am Raja Narayana Murti, of House Kshatra. I have been to all four corners of the sector, and to many others as well," the man smiles, "I would like to begin by thanking you for answering our call. Our House faces a terrible threat."
He gestures out a small window.
"One you no doubt have seen by now?" he asks.
"Indeed. Swarms of the flying wretches mar this world," Cyril states, "Have they yet infested the ground?"
"I had heard of isolated cases of an unknown threat, and I rallied my Guard," he sighs, "It was here that we learned that the infestation was more severe than anticipated, and we have lost all contact with Fortress Adara, our home. Needless to say, I am worried. for them."
The Raja walks further.
"We had been isolated here for many weeks, until you were able to support us," Narayana says, "In that time, they have no doubt landed ground forces. However, the extent I do not know."

"You should know it is likely that another threat will appear here as we turn the tide against the Tyranids," Cyril replies, searching the skies for gas giants, and finding none. 
"Then we must face against the one that bares itself now," the Raja says, "But we are in luck, for it seems others have answered our call as well." 
"Excelsus had their own problems to face, but we were able to quell those on our way here, and they sent Lances to assist," Cyril explains.
"We have received word that Knights from House Askari have arrived, to lend their aid according to ancient pacts," the Raja explains, "And, surprisingly, there are Knights from House Excelsus as well, as you say. I had thought them little more than brigands, and yet they accepted the call for war just as zealously."
"We had helped them with a prior crisis on Audax," Cortain explains, "It freed up their Lances for your aid."
"Republican Commandos, I ask once more for your assistance," the Raja says, "Help us retake our home fortress of Adara from whatever ails it. With the strength of three Knight Houses and heroic praetors at the fore, the Tyranids will know the aspect of the God-Emperor's rage."
"Or, you could just drop me in, and come back in a week with a pressure hose," Brynjol grins. His hair is like a picture of an explosion.
The old Raja laughs, "Then I can count on your support?"
"Of course," Cyril nods, "We do not have a full week, though, Brynjol. The forces here will be needed as soon as possible on Sors Natio to put down the Black Caste once and for all."
Now it is time for Cyril to joke.
"So you may have to break a sweat."
Cyril tries to grin. It... doesn't quite work.
"I tried that once," Brynjol retorts, "Revolting."

The old man walks to a tapestry, placing his hand on it.
"Our Knight house goes back far. There is a legend in our annals," he explains, "The progenitor of our house once doubted himself. The Emperor visited him, in hidden aspect, disguised as a Sacristan."
Cortain perks up at the mention of Omnissian Sacristan. Cyril nods curiously.
"Though there was a raging war around them, time seemingly stood still. He explained the concepts of chivalric duty and honor, devotion to one's people and to He on Terra, and the realization of the self through ever leading the charge as a warrior," he finishes, "Our progenitor was awed and humbled, and we have sought to embody such principles ever since."
The Raja clenches his fist.
"They will not fail today. WE will not fail today." Raja Narayana declares, "Republican Commandos, we move when you are ready."

Cyril voxes a request to the Blade for orbital imaging of the area surrounding Adara, while the rest of the Commandos begin to return to their VF/SS's.
"We'll get right on it, lad..." Rockfist says, "And...wait. We've got the augurs pointed at where it SHOULD be, but there's something else there. Something red and black."
"It's like a volcano opened up where the city was..." Rose observes.
"A Linnorm?" Cortain posits, "Or perhaps...a spore chimney?"
"We can't pierce the smoke, lad," Rockfist nods, "But we are picking up Imperial signatures from the city's Northeast and Southwest."
"It seems the other knights have landed there," Rose adds.
"Sounds like we have an attack to coordinate," Cortain declares.
"Thank you, Rockfist," Cyril sighs, "Raja, I regret to inform you that Adara may have been destroyed, but even if it is beyond saving it WILL be avenged."

"Brothers, prep for takeoff," Cyril declares, "We have a volcano to put on ice." He signs the Aquila to the Raja again and runs back out to the strikesuits. The Raja signs the Aquila, closing his eyes for a moment, before marching out as well. The Nagavarikan Guard are embarking as well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RtNWUhdnz2g

The Raja's knight, a golden Lancer accented with royal purple, takes the head of the formation, banners flying in the wind as the Nagavarikan Guard form up behind him. As the Commandos hop in and take off, the knights of House Kshatra form up behind the Commandos, matching speed.

"We follow the orders of the Commandos," the Raja says, "For they speak with the authority of the Emperor."
Cyril voxes ahead to the forces around Adara's remains. "This is Praetor Cyril of the Republican Commandos. The Deathwatch and House Kshatra are en route to spearhead the retribution!"

With the Commandos at the fore, House Kshatra charges through the thick jungle, void shields at the ready, following the distinctive trail. Cortain continues to monitor vox traffic, pleased with what he hears.

"House Askari is ready, Republican Commandos," a Faris of Askari replies.
"Excelsus is here, like we said we would!" a Domineus of Excelsus declares. 
"Good," Cyril voxes, "Let us show these crunchy bugs what Tiji's Knights can do!" 

The Bhattara and Raja of Kshatra are heartened, despite the smoke around growing thicker and thicker. Finally, the Commandos can see the Fortress Adara in the distance. It's still in one piece! But it's now very, VERY clear what Rockfist and Rose saw. Towering over the wide fortress, a black-shelled Hive Ship, leaking fire and magma, has clamped itself over the Fortress. Though fortress guns fire, the Hive Ship, almost as tall as the Blade is long, is disgorging a constant stream of organisms into the Fortress.

"Brothers, I remember now what I said we should get from the Merchant next time we saw him," Cyril facepalms, "BETTER ANTI-SHIP LANCES. This might take a few minutes."
"What are ye seein' down there, lad?" Rockfist asks.
"My head hurts, whatever it is," Rose sighs.
"An entire Hive Ship has clamped itself to the Fortress, and is spewing organisms into the Fortress even now," Cyril replies.
A pause.
"If we could, I would ask for a orbital strike here," Cortain laments.
"That may be possible, Cortain," Cyril replies, "Collateral damage might be horrific, but it may be worthwhile to end this quickly. We should be able to gather targeting data for the Blade if we get closer."
"...WE SHALL ARRIVE MOMENTARILY, PRAETOR."
"We'll do what we c...what do ye mean, Arc Charge?" Rockfist blurts, "They asked f...fine, toaster, ye'll get yer arc cha-"
"Oh, THIS should be interesting," Cyril notes.
"Thexus?" Cortain asks, suddenly worried about phosphex, "Thexus, what are you doing?"

As the lances of House Kshatra, Excelsus, and Askari charge forward from all angles, the Commandos' augurs pick up a sudden thunderstorm brewing off to the side. The Commandos barely reach the immediate zone around the hive ship, when their vision, even their autosenses are overtaken by a series of flashes of impossibly bright light. The Blade has suddenly appeared, Ferromantic runes of Invincibility glowing from the atmospheric strain.
"ARC CHARGE SUCCESSFUL," Thexus blasts, "TELEPORTARIUM UNDAMAGED. MICRO WARP JUMP COMPLETE. WE WILL PROVIDE SUPPORT, PRAETORS."
"THEXUS THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN!" Cortain yells in shock.
Cyril laughs uproariously. "GLORIOUS!"
"Well then," Rockfist blurts, "That worked, I guess."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kex6JNjtKfQ

The Commandos ready their weapons as a pair of creatures detach from the Hive Ship. They are smaller Stalker Drones, escort equivalents for the Tyranid fleets. The Knights have left the skies to the Commandos - it is all up to them. Down below, as Askari comes from the Northeast, and Excelsus comes from the Southwest, the Raja of House Kshatra leads his fellow Bhattara in noble combat, charging with lance and firing with disciplined precision, every shot piercing a biotitan with a sound of thunder.

"Commandos, we're detecting some structural instabilities in the Hive Ship," Rose states, "It's using four clawed legs to anchor itself stable."
"Targeting those first might be worthwhile," Cyril suggests.

"Blade, can you handle the escorts?" Cyril asks.
"Back me up, Commandos!" Brynjol commands, "I think I've some plumbing to do!"
"We'll do what we can, lad," Rockfist explains, "But what the toaster failed to explain is that in atmosphere things will be a bit harder."
"Commandos," Rose says, "If you can take out a majority of the legs, it should lose its balance and we can open a path for you!"

Brynjol, Cyril, and Temur move forward in formation, their aim for the four clawed legs the Hive Ship is using to stabilize itself. They reason that if they can take out a majority of the legs, then it will lose its grip and the Blade can assist further. Turning their plasma lances to the legs, concentrated fire means they are able to immediately down one leg. Cortain stays back to distract the two escorts, as everyone works to dodge incoming fire from biocannon defense turrets grown on the spot to attack the Commandos. The corrosive spore clouds around the creatures are also damaging, indicating to the Commandos that they'll need to hurry the fuck up to complete their mission.

The Commandos continue working around, Cyril and Temur down a second leg while Brynjol downs a third. With the blade utterly focused on keeping the Hive Ship contained, more Stalker drones detach, and begin firing. There is great concern now, as more biocannons are being sent down. The Commandos narrowly defend against these, but decide to turn all their attention to the remaining legs. Cortain, realizing that the number of stalkers will just increase, rejoins everyone in focusing down the Hive ship's legs. By the time the Commandos are able to down a third leg, there are a concerning six Stalker drones in the area, damaging Cyril and Temur by sheer weight of fire, despite missile counterfire to attack the Biocannons.

"Third leg is down!" Rose yells, "It's losing balance! Watch out!"

Indeed, the Hive Ship is falling down, and a lance beam from the Blade cuts a big hole in the hive ship's side.
"There is our opening!" Cyril yells.

Deep within the hive ship, exposed by the accelerator cannon's lance functionality, the disgusting void monster's magmatic heart beats. Cortain is first to aim down, striking the heart with his plasma lance. Cyril then adds to the damage. The heart is bleeding, and the Stalkers look momentarily stunned at the synapse interruption. Not willing to let an opporunity go to waste, he switches back to pursuit mode, selecting as many biocannons as he can with the ADMMs, and bombarding all about. Brynjol is ready to charge, but it is Temur's action that seals the deal. With the heart exposed and severely damaged, Temur lines up the shot, and fires the plasma accelerator down. It pierces the heart, setting it off in a great fiery explosion. It reminds him of a volcano going off as the hive ship finally dies. The pure synapse feedback blasts outward, the Stalkers falling to the ground in shock.

Brynjol can do little but look forlornly on. He wanted to fly inside the creature and blow it up gloriously, dammit! He resolves that there are future opportunities for glory, and concedes the moment for now.

"Hive ship crushed," Cortain declares with finality. The Stalkers fall, dead from shock, and the Tyranids on the ground lose all sense of cohesion. The Knights on the ground cheer. Surprisingly, most of the city is okay, and as the troops all about begin purging operations. Cyril checks datafeeds of the orbital battles as he begins mopping up Monstrous Creatures with phased plasma.

"Adara yet lives..." Raja Narayana says, "Commandos, you have done it."
"This world will yet return to its glory," Cortain promises.
"Commandos, please, walk with me," the Raja says, "I wish to speak with you, for I have...doubts."
The Commandos land near the Raja, as his Lancer and the rest of the Nagavarikan Guard march into the city.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ouBDeoG0fU

The common citizenry are overjoyed, and marching out in celebration alongside the procession.
"Commandos, to see Adara still standing, even after such an ordeal its people have gone through, it fills my heart with joy," the Raja says, "But...do you remember when I expressed my surprise at Excelsus's presence?"
"Had we not saved Audax, perhaps those fears would be true," Cortain begins.
"We do," Cyril nods, "We also remember the lessons your House remembers, on doubt. For you to have them anyway, this must be serious. Name your concerns."
"House Askari and House Excelsus have arrived to aid us," the Raja says, "And yet, we sent a request to a third, House Pyrus."

Citizens dance and cavort about, swinging swords and shouting psalms of deliverance amongst the feet of the Commandos and House Kshatra. Sword-dancers and women in swirling fabrics twirl through the liberated Red Fortress of Adara.
"We have heard nothing from them," the Raja says, "There are few things that would cause a House to forsake sacred oaths. We are concerned, as we did not even receive a response to our pleas."
"Pyrus...I remember a prior assignment where they were AWOL," Cortain says with sudden realization.
"These suspicions will be looked into once we finish business as Sors Natio,"  Cyril promises, "I assume you worry that they may have been destroyed by some unknown force - or worse, subverted?"
"Correct. There have been numerous battles now, where they yet remain silent," the Raja says, "I do not know what is wrong, but I fear the worst."
Cortain prepares to conduct a full investigation - House Pyrus are a Mechanicum House, and such poor display reflects badly on the Omnissiah's faithful.
"How long has it been since you had contact with House Pyrus?" Cyril asks.
"We first believed something was wrong when they failed to appear for the Euclisine Crusade," the Raja says, "Almost seventeen years back. But they gave word that their difficulties were due to lack of resources. Contact was ever more sporadic, until now, where they are silent."
"Hmm. I have a few guesses what could be wrong," Cyril muses, "If time permits, we may pay their homeworld a visit soon to check what may have ocurred."

"Praetors, Republican Commandos, we shall honor your sacrifice, and answer your summons if we can," the Raja says quietly, "We are a people who remember our debts. The Galaxy may cycle eternal, but oaths of loyalty will outlast it."
"Sacrifice?" Cyril mumbles quietly, off vox, before responding. "The world of Sors Natio is embattled by the wretched Tau. Any forces you can spare from restoring your homeworld's purity will be sorely needed there, to break the back of the Black Caste."
"I hereby swear an oath of loyalty to you," Raja Narayana says, "Should you or your forces call us, I and the Nagavarikan Guard will answer personally once Adara is restored. For now, yes, I shall deploy honored formations to Sors Natio."
"We appreciate your aid," Cortain nods, "As will the Houses, Militarum forces, and Leagues already present."
Narayana's Lance bows, before heading off to supervise reconstruction. With the mission complete. The Blade has already enabled plasma drives to leave atmosphere. Cyril and his Strike Suit sign the Aquila to the Raja and the celebrants, before brandishing their lance to the sky. "Your oath is acknowledged and appreciated, Raja. May the Emperor guide your House to ever greater glories."

"We're ready ta receive ya, lads," Rockfist says, "We can leave fer Sors Natio on yer command."
Cyril enters Pursuit Mode and speeds for the landing bay. "We are en route. Recall the Fire Raptors."
"Good," Cortain nods, "We have a lot of lost time to cover."

The Blade recalls all battle-servitor bombers and fighters, and receives the Commandos' landing. The Blade strains as it breaks atmosphere, until it reaches spess once more.

"That went... better than expected," Cyril wonders to himself, "Perhaps Korst'la's shenanigans were not entirely devoid of merit."

As if on cue, sensing some terrible combination of words, almost a hundred squats aboard the Blade begin vomiting profusely. Entering the Warp, a long-awaited confrontation with Aun'O O'Res'Nan awaits.

</div>
</div>

<div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">