You have to share temporary quarters with Gorlin for the moment, which bothers you both some and not at all. You are always wary at his ticks and grunts, the way he always seems on the edge of exploding into a murderous frenzy, but he is surprisingly sanguine about his condition, even going so far as to crack weak jokes about it. It bothers you not at all that Gorlin is such a vicious Marine, in the way the Flesh Tearers always seem to be from the tiny handful you have met in passing, because he knows exactly who and what deserves his wrath.

You are stumped for a while as to what to do. Your instructions to survey the Capitalis Congestus are quite open-ended, and you presumed that more squad-mates would be forthcoming, or at least more detailed instructions. Such presumptions have turned out to be in error, so as you go over what information you do have you keep an eye out for missions of opportunity. Gorlin seems to be working with you for the moment, and you agree on the callsigns of Alpha 2 and Ravager for his interactions with Interrogator MacWater and her team.

Surprisingly Gorlin seems at ease with you leading the ad-hoc kill-team. The Codex indicates that in an ad-hoc unit, the highest-ranking officer has command, and of two officers of equal rank, the officer with the longer length and distinction of service has precedence. You and Gorlin are both sargents, and you have the longer service record, but you expects at least some resistance from a Marine from a Chapter that does not follow the Codex as closely as the Ultramarines do. In one of your planning sessions, you finally decide to just ask Gorlin about the matter.

“Rrngh. A commander needs to be able to think clearly in battle. I may do that better than my fellow Flesh-Tearers, but I know my limitations. You’ll keep your head when I get lost in the melee, which means we’ll both live to keep killing in the Emperor’s name.”

“Up for a bit more of that then?”

“Hrgh. Do you even need to ask?”

“True. On my way to find your beacon, I came across a dead Imperial Fist. I don’t like leaving a Battle-Brother behind, but I had to. So I’m thinking we go and bring him back.”

“Grrgh. And kill everything not-human between here and there.”

“That’s a given on a Hulk.”

“Greh-heh-heh. Been meaning to ask, what's with the fake knife strapped to the CAT?”

“No Idea. Mech-Wright?”

The Mech-wright shuffles over. You can tell that it is still suffering from the damage it had suffered prior to your arrival. You wonder if it will ever fully heal, or if it will simply replace the damaged flesh with cybernetics and augmetics like so many of its kind do, slowly slicing away their humanity in search of perfection.

The Mech-Wright leans heavily against the table, “yes Lords?”

“What’s with the knife on the CAT?”

“I’ve no Idea my Lords. It came with the rest of the parts for Stabby, and the housing included a bracket to mount it, so it must have been an intended component. I can remove it, if it offends…”

“Hrngh. Stabby huh? Leave it, I think I like it.”

“If you say so Lord.”

“The other question I had was whether or not you had any experience maintaining Power Armor?”

“Nothing of Astartes-grade manufacture, my Lords, though I had studied and have been blessed to work upon lesser suits of powered armor and Heavy Environmental Suits. Why? Does one of your suits require repair or maintenance?”

“Not yet, but it is a likelihood in the near future, given the nature of our mission here.”

“Rrrgh. Thinking ahead Hunter?”

“Correct, Ravager.”

“Grrgh. Wouldn’t be a bad Idea, but the Techmaries would scream bloody murder if they knew.”

“So? The good Mech-Wright here already works for the Ordo Xenos, and for Inquisitor Ironside as well.”

“Hrngh. True.”

“My Lords?”

“At ease Mech-Wright, I’m not asking you to venture back into the Capitalis Congestus. I’m thinking about asking the good Inquisitor if we might retain your services, instead of shipping in even more people.”

“If you say so Lords. I would need at least some training time, and probably the assistance of an armorium servitor to assist me.”

“Hmm, I think we could manage that, If we can convince Inquisitor Ironside. Surely it would be easier then to send a Techmarine all the way out here to support just two Battle-Brothers. Thank you Mech-Wright, you may return to your tasks.”

“As your Lordships please.”

“Rrrngh. To the mission then?”

“Agreed. Lets see here…”

Mission 1: Enduring Night

Type: Retrieval and Reconnaissance

Primary Objective : Recover the Body of the unknown Imperial Fist

Secondary Objective: Determine the extent of the wreck of the Unflagging Resolve.

Tertiary Objective: Eliminate any targets of opportunity encountered.

Personal (Bonus) Objective: Adamant - Pass all Willpower tests.

Available Requisition: 80 for the entire Squad.

Expenditures:

55 : Promote Mech-Wright ZTO to a Support Role & train & equip accordingly. (Includes cybernetics and one Armorium servitor)

25 : 28 rounds of 0.75 caliber Hellfire Bolt ammunition

Estimated time until delivery: 2 weeks.*

*ZTO’s training and return to the void-hab will take an additional 4 weeks

Your entry into the Capitalis Congestus by way of the Visitor goes smoothly, and you easily traverse the wreck, heading ‘north-east.’ Three hours later you enter another Vagabond-class merchant ship, the Lonely Drifter. Gravity is normal, with the usual slight fluctuations inherent aboard ill-maintained (or wrecked) ships. The Life Sustainers are clearly offline however, as your Power Armor is reporting a contaminated atmosphere (contaminant unknown). You confirm this with Gorlin, who simply shrugs. Or at least the servors of his Power Armor move his pauldrons around a bit in an imitation of a shrug.

Five hours after entering the Lonely Drifter, you are ready to depart her for the prow of the Unflagging Resolve. But there is a bit of a problem. Your path crosses a shuttle launch bay: an open cavern in the wreckage of the ship that once opened to the hard vacuum of space. It is closed in now, hemmed about by other wrecks large and larger, but the shuttle launch catapults haven’t seemed to notice. Indeed, they are still firing at irregular intervals. Pistons heave, cables whip and snap, and refueling servitors trundle about aimlessly.

Crossing this area is a Minor Hazard, and you pause to consider how you want to progress forward. You could simply attempt to evade as much of the moving equipment as you could and sprint through to the far side. Alternatively, you could try to find and manipulate the docking controls to shut down the launch catapults. Or you could do something else...