You gather your fireteam, and Interrogator MacWater, to greet the incoming thunderhawk dropship with both relief and trepidation. Enough time has passed that the Mech-Wright should be returning, but nothing short of the arrival of a fellow space marine would justify a thunderhawk dropship.

Your uncertainty is put at ease when the Mech-Wright leads the way off of the Thunderhawk, mono-tasked servitor in tow with several armorium crates loaded across is hunched back. Replacement ceramite panels, adamantium bolts and rivets, and the assorted complex small components that go into maintaining armor-servos and the like. Perhaps your chestplate can finally have the gouges repaired, instead of trusting to the armor cements field repairs.

“ZTO Two-Delta-Three reporting for duty.”

“Welcome back Mech-Wright. You know the place as well as I do, so go ahead and get set up and settled in.”

“Affirmative Alpha-One.”

More concerning is the appearance of the devastator space marine who follows ZTO off of the Thunderhawk. The presence of his heavy bolter in your fireteam’s arsenal is more than welcome: the incoming doctrinal divisions are not. The left pauldron of his mk7 “aquila” power armor is the mottled dull green of the Raptors chapter. Known for their pragmatism and their derision for displays of martial glory or zeal, you can already tell that Hagrdict is tensing up for the inevitable contest of wills between the two of them.

Your concern doubles when the devastator walks down the ramp with the unmistakable arrogant swagger of the newly-initiated. Freshly raised to the ranks of the space marines, they have fare too much belief in their own immortality for their own good.

Gorlin twitches then whispers, “Breh. Bloodydamn Fung.”

Hagrdict twitches an eyebrow at Gorlin, “come again?”

“Freh. FNG. Fraggin’ New Guy.”

You nod your head, “Think of the newest of neophytes that you have gifted the black carapace to, and their matching arrogance at being awarded a set of power armor.”

Hagrdict winces, “the ones whose geneseed I have to recover after their first fight.”

Gorlin nods in agreement.

The devastator stops his advance the codex-specified distance and salutes, “Alpha Four reporting for duty Sir.”

“Welcome to the squad battle-brother…?”

“Losis, Sir. I also have a message cylinder for you Sir. New orders from the Watch Commander.”

“Very well Losis, let’s have it.” He hands it over, and you place your thumb at the bio-reader on the cylinder's end. It swiftly links into your power armor’s diagnostics, confirms your identity, and pops open. Your eyes dart down the stilted form, jumping over the rote formatting to the parts that actually matter.

“From Watch Command to Fire-Team Alpha, new orders as follows: Expedite exploration of the space hulk known as the Capitalis Congestus. A Special Demolitions Unit, Destroyer Six, is en route to your position to demolish the hulk, and will require a route to the blighted heart of his target.”

Hagrdict frowns, “what sort of name is “Destroyer Six?”

Losis flips one hand palm uppermost, “more importantly, what in the Emperor’s name is a ‘Special Demolitions Unit?’”

Gorlin twitches, “Rrgh, what sort of device could demolish an entire space hulk in a single strike?”

You tap the sheet of parchment containing your orders, “these don’t say, but it would have to be something on the upper end of the exterminatus-class of weapons. A planet-breaker in its own right, so it’s more powerful than a cyclonic torpedo warhead.”

Losis tips his helmet to the side, “And portable by a single unit of infantry too. Vortex grenade you think, Sir?”

You shake your head, “best not to dwell on it. Our orders and our Primary objective is to find the ‘blighted heart’ of the Capitalis Congesus.”

You can all be feel Losis’ frown as he speaks, “would that not be the center of the hulk?”

You nod, “perhaps, but there is at least one Chaos-tainted Grand Cruiser in this hulk, so it may be aboard that. Or it could be somewhere in the seventy three percent of the Capitalis Congestus that is as-yet unmapped. Think it over while we get Losis unloaded so this Thunderhawk can get on its way.

Stockpile Update:

887 rounds of 0.75 caliber bolt ammunition. Suitable for bolters and bolt pistols. 136 rounds of 0.75 caliber Hellfire bolt ammunition. Suitable for bolters and bolt pistols.

Specialist rounds for special targets; Hellfire Ammunition bypasses all natural or organic armor, and liquefies the target from the inside out.

1290 rounds of 1.57 caliber heavy bolt ammunition. Suitable for heavy bolters. 21x frag AP grenades, hand throwable. 22x krak AT grenades, hand throwable. 80x units of armor repair cement, for patching armor breaches in the field. Enough combat rations to feed your squad for twenty weeks.

With Losis’ equipment and his supplies unloaded, you regather you kill-team, Interrogator MacWater, and Mech-Wright ZTO around the central table in the common area of the voidhab.

You tap your knucks on the table, rapping them like a gavel, to bring the meeting to order. “Interrogator MacWater, you know our updated orders. Is there any other information that you can share with us to further them?”

Interrogator MacWater chews her lower lip as she thinks it over, “nothing concrete Hunter. Only the persistent rumor that Destroyer Six, who or whatever it is, is only ever unleashed when the Ordo Xenos wants to ensure no survivors, witnesses, or evidence is left behind.”

You nod in acceptance, “see if you can gather any more information Interrogator. We are going to need an exit strategy, probably in a hurry, and preferably one we can use under fire. ZTO, status on armor repairs?”

ZTO consults one of his dataslates, “no more than seven point two four six hours, assuming I can work uninterrupted and no major faults are found, from the conclusion of this meeting.”

“Thank you. Meeting is dismissed at this time, Kill-team to reconvene in nine hours for mission planning.”