Assets

Inquisitor Hawk commenced the meeting. “Let’s review our assets.”
“Two squads of Grey Knights Terminators,” Announced Captain Meddigo.
“Four platoons of Belisimar Boys with heavy weapons and Inhalers,” added Hawk. He had taken command of the remnants of the Belisimar Boys at Hawk’s order.
“The Inquisitorial assets,” remarked Hawk, “including two daemon hosts.”
“Three squads of Red Hunters Space Marines,” grunted the pale faced Chaplain Arsestus.

Tombstone Blues

“Sir, may I respectfully request that we immediately evacuate the Hulk”
“Why,” grunted Hawk to Hammerhand.
“The statistical records, err, such as they exist, demonstrate that despite the best organised efforts of the Imperium and Inquisition, Hulks have unpredictably and typically at the most inconvenient instant dematerium to the Warp.”
“Unpredictable they are like any living organism. Admittedly there are risks, but any engagement with the arch-enemy of Mankind and the Living Emperor has risk stamped on it.”
“Are the gains here worth these risk to all we have so far achieved”
“Look on it as another adventure, Hammerhand, you are young enough, why question this opportunity to seize control of a Hulk for the Inquisition and Imperium.”
“I do not question the opportunity nor do I wish my loyalty to be questioned. I am solely concerned that we will find ourselves at the mercy of the Hulk within the warp and in circumstances that releases the contained mobs of Orks and probably Tyranid Hordes.”

Arvus Departure

The blocky steaming shape of Arvus lighter hunched on the pad as if hiding from the bleak grey sky overhead. A light drizzle was falling. Not an auspicious start to a new venture thought Hammerhand as he ran from the rear ramp of his Chimera which had backed up to the lighter’s loading ramp.

The spaceport was still under sporadic sniper fire from disgruntled elements of the local population. The Tau had left in their own ships once it had become abundantly clear that they could no longer deceive the planet into submission.
Most of the locals seemed indifferent to their liberation and welcome to the Imperium. Some downright resented the damage to their interests, homes and families that had occurred. Hammerhand suspected much of the resentment may have been due to the exuberance with which Moloch and Caliban had executed their instructions. Both were now stowed within the lighter.

Off to the Hulk thought Hammerhand. Hawk had reinforced his forces within the hulk as a prelude to purging it and taking control. Hammerhand had been summoned to join him and leave Commissar Steele and Captain Pilgrim in command of the Imperial forces with the tasks of suppressing all resistance and completing the reintegration of the newly discovered world.

Hammerhand ran up the loading ramp of the Arvus. A solitary lasbolt crackled by missing him by a good distance and striking sparks from the toughened hull of the small space freighter. Hammerhand scarcely noticed as he was musing on the Hulk and his and Hawk’s predicament should it decide to depart.

The Off Switch

“Just who do you think you are addressing,” retorted Hammerhand. He had immensely enjoyed saying that as he had always wanted to drive some pompous appartchik demented with it. Hammerhand blessed Hawk again for giving him these opportunities to say what he had always wanted to, to the power bullies, thugs, psychopaths and commissars.
“Your life is hostage against any deviancy. Those who question the Inquisitor Hawk’s methods must to answer to his Excellency."
“Contact Hawk now,” Ordered Marshall Vikrumm.
“The is no need as I am the Lord Inquisitor’ plenipotentiary representative on this planet with full legislative and legal powers as constituted by the Imperial Decree Inquisitorial. As such I am outside the Imperial command chain and superior to any officers of the Imperial Guard and the Commissariat.”
“What, what, how dare you,” spluttered Vikrumm.
“By order of this associate rosette and mandate of delegated Inquistorial authority I pronounce you traitor to the Emperor, may his name be revered. Do you have anything to say in your defence before sentence is pronounced.”
“Yes I have this to say in my defence,” Vikrumm snapped contemptuously as he worked the flap of his bolt pistol holster.
With a well practiced, smooth and fluidly effortless motion Hammerhand palmed his spring loaded laspistol. A new circular black rimmed orifice was created in Assault Marshall Vikrumm’s forehead. He looked astounded. Little blood tricked out as lasbolts tended to cauterise. Vikrumm fell backwards sliding across the map table. His staff were transfixed. As the back of Vikrumm’s head smacked onto the floor small pale grey gobbets of his impact dislodged brain splattered on their shiny boots.
“Staff Officer Russ, remove the mess that the traitor has got himself into.” Ordered Hammerhand. Hammerhand congratulated himself that he was now beginning to get the hang of this inquisitorial thing. He pulled Moloch’s control transmitter from his jacket pocket and signalled the control unit to bind and immobilise Moloch.
“Just ask nicely,” he remarked in a conversational tone.
“I suggest that Commissar Steele takes over for the moment while I consult with Hawk concerning a succession for the Assault Marshall”

Moloch

"Cool," exclaimed Moloch cheerfully. It was floating 10 meters above the avenue. A baneblade had appeared at the furthest end.
The avenue through the exclusively wealthy part of Lakupad town was scattered with lumps of flesh hewn from the local populace. The once white washed buildings sported a thin coat of a bright shade of blood. Moloch spun on his heels in mid air and a powerfully vivid ball of flaming white fire shot from his chest to the tank. There was a massive explosion. The baneblade rocked in its tracks, the hull mounted demolisher cannon had been ripped off.
The image on the Voxpict link blurred. "That was 20 minutes ago," grated Assault Marshall Vikrumm.
He screamed, "What were you thinking of when you released that? Inqueestitor Hammerhanded"
"If I could put your ass in front of a firing squad I would do it gleefully and pull the trigger!"

Garzakk's End

Garzakk's belly burst with an explosive flash of green guts and blood as the stormbolter rounds exploded inside. His legs ran on for a few more steps down the central corridor of the Hulk before they realised that he was dead.
Meddigo had detailed two squads of terminators to ambush the Orks detected re-entering the Hulk by Inquisitor Hawk’s auto savants.

The surviving Orks in Garzakk's mob surged forward towards the corridor junction from where one of the two squads had opened fire. As they did so Terminators power fisted through the corridor walls behind them and charged home slaughtering the Orks at the rear of the mob. The other squad now charged the front of the howling mass of Orks firing their stormbolters as they leap forward. The mob of Orks found itself crushed between two assaulting squads of spacemarines in terminator armour. While in normal circumstances the Orks would have been able to give a good account of themselves, here in the gloomy confines of the ribbed ancient metal walled corridor of the Hulk the Orks were pressed so closely on each other that they were unable to effectively fight back. In the center of the mob fighting broke out between Orks, biting and gouging with talons and head butting, as they were unable to swing their weapons. The terminators pressed forward compressing the writhing mobs of Orks as they slaughtered them down to the last greenskin.

Armoured Column on Dirtball

The armoured column rolled forward. Baneblade after Baneblade grinding slowly across the blasted landscape. On the distant horizon their goal. The largest industrial complex on the planet and its associated towns located in a river valley area and given the tactical name Zone Zero, or double Zed to the Belisimar Chem Dogs.
Alfus and his squad rolled comfortably across the blasted heath and scrubland in a Chimera. The second landings had been successful and after the failed Tau counter attack resistance seemed to have crumbled.

Hammerhand sat in the command chimera as it followed the Leman Russ squadrons behind the Baneblades. Assault Marshall Vikrumm and his command team sat around the planning table. As Inquisitor Hawk’s representative on the Dirtball as they were calling the planet Hammerhand was de-facto part of the team.

“The enemy seem to be mainly the Xenos Tau. The locals seem human which should be expected as this world was part of the Imperium before the Heresy.”
Commissar Goldengoth was speaking.
“Once we have occupied Zone Zero I do not expect further resistance. The remaining Xenos will probably surrender in the hope of prisoner exchange.”
Vikrumm grunted his assent.

Staff Officer Russ cleared his throat, “I have the draft orders for the establishment of a base and the organisation of pacification and Imperialisation of the planet, my Lord Assault Marshall.”
Vikrumm indicated that the documents were to be placed on the table. He looked at Hammerhand.
“The glory of reincorporating this lost world will be yours, my Lord Assault Marshall,” continued Russ.
“Indeed,” responded Vikrumm with satisfaction. The glory of the deed would be the seal to his career. He turned to Hammerhand.
“How long in your estimation will it take for the Inquisition to eradicate taints of Xenos and deviation? We need to know to start assessing the logistics for this operation.”

“With respect Sir,” responded Hammerhand, “I believe the the High Lord Inquisitor Hawk does not consider this fine battle group as a force to be blunted by the tedium of occupation. He has not shared his intentions for the end of local resistance. I recommend that we immediately re-establish communications with Captain Admiral Pilgrim of the fleet and through him contact the Inquisitor.”
In other words phone home before Hawk decides to kick your fat immobile backside, thought Hammerhand.

“In any case it may take decades before the Inquisition can be confident that the isolated population on this world are able to be reincorporated."

"It will depend on how long they have been associating with the Xenos and what other deviations have taken root here during its isolation.”
And undoubtedly there are some strange goings on as I discovered through poor Zakalwe and his levels considered Hammerhand.

Garzakk Rentry

The hull airlock outer door exploded in a flare of slivers. Garzakk and his mob felt the blast wave through the Hull. A few grots lost their grip and floated off the Hulk . None of the Orks paid any attention. They were closely following the Mek's team as it lowered the next charge into the gaping scar on the surface of the Hulk where the airlock outer door had been.

Hezakk was not dumb but he was not stupid either reasoned Garzakk. He would have positioned some grots and Orks wif big shootas to cover the airlock as well as the corridor approach. What he would not have thought of was that he Garzakk was much cunninger. The airlock would be blasted through. Any Orks beyond the door would be blasted out in to the vacuum with the air rush. One of his Garzakk's mobs was positioned to slug and blast any intact Orks thrown out by the blast. Then he would use his cunning plan.

With the second blast Garzakk's Orks opened fire on the tumbling bodies. The spew of gas and debris died away. Now was the time when Hezakks mob would be building an emergency air wall. Garzakk signalled the second mobb. They carefully rolled a black nobbly cylinder over to the gash in the Hulk. Sitting on the cylinder a crazed grot in a vacuum bubble strapped to the back of the stubby winged cylinder ignited a rokkitt motor on the outer surface. With a momentary crazed wave the grot rode the black cylinder into the gash in the Hulk. Garzakk and his mob fired their rokkit boostas and jumped as far around the Hulk as they could without launching themselves into orbit. A vast convulsion shook the surface for kliks around. Several of the appendages on the surface of the Hulk shook loose in the blast with some tumbling into orbit around the Hulk over under the force of spurting gas and boiling fluids. The gash on the Hulk were the airlock had been was no longer. There was now a gaping crater where Hezakk's control room had been.

Now was the time to get back in through anuvver airlock and srtoll down the central corridor finishing off any of Hezakks mob that would not join his. He could feel himself beginning to grow again. What Hezakk the useless grot had not realised but he Garzakk had was that there were many control rooms in this Hulk.

C'tan

High commander Fa'thanen sighed. Everything that had been going so well with Operation Lone Pilgrim seemed to be on the verge of being lost. The orbital defenses were bombarded out of existence after they had been revealed too early. Why had he let himself be convinced to open fire at that point? The native human population had become restive as the orbital fireworks told them that what the Tau emissaries had convinced them of previously was not exactly true. The fleet had had to be withdrawn to defend against a surprise Imperial Crusade against one of the Tau Rim worlds. His two picket system ships had vanished shortly after they had reported contact with a derelict Space Hulk approaching the system and now this. The reports he held indicated that the attack he had ordered to wipe out the isolated human imperial survivors from their recent original landing had gone bizarrely wrong long before the attack force had made contact. Devilfish exploding for no reason or colliding into and destroying other transports made no sense at all. All his slim residual resources would be required to rescue the survivors. He needed to think. Had the humans made contact with the indigenes and their bizarre system of levels. He shrugged. The Imperial Humans would stamp that cult out as soon as they took control. The High Commander shook himself he must not think like that. He needed to concentrate on the needs of the greater good.

Were the imperial humans using as yet unknown weapon systems and that was why the attack had failed or could it be sabotage Fa'thanen pondered. Hn'harduden his bumptious servant entered. He had never learned to precede his wish to enter a room with a respectful clearing of the throat before entering.
"Why are you here," demanded Fa'thanen.
"I have a message," came the unusually confident response.
"Speak then."
"By the order of the High Emperor of Terra I pronounce you foul Xenos and sentence you to die. So says Inquisitor Hawk and so do I."
The form of Hn'harduden blurred. A C'tan phase sword stabbed forward impaling the High Commander before he had time to react to his death sentence.
High commander Fa'thanen sighed and slid off the sword.
Sophia laughed and teleported. "What a useless piece of meat," she thought.

Devilfish

A taloned hand punched through the bulkhead separating the seated armoured suited Tau warriors from the drive compartment of their Devilfish transport. An evil demonic visage followed. It emanated waves of unnatural horror that clung to any who saw it like a stench of death and decay. The warriors nearest to the apparition were retching as they tried to squirm themselves as far away from it as possible. They were crammed too tightly together in the transport's troop compartment to use weapons or in any way defend themselves or escape. It paused to allow them to appreciate the horror of their predicament. It spoke to them, not in words but directly and repulsively into their minds. "Canned meat I like that." Caliban launched himself into the compartment faster than the warriors could react. A spray of blood, bowels, gobbets of flesh and gurgling screams resonated around the compartment. In less than a minute Caliban was grinning, and preening itself while hovering over a layer of minced tissues awash with blood. The intercom snapped and spat. "Ah, the pilot," murmured Caliban and reached through the ceiling of the compartment. The Hammerhead lurched and spun. Caliban teleported. The Devilfish raced out of position and smashed into it partner in formation. Both hit the ground with an immense flash and explosion.
Further down the line of Devilfish and Hammerheads the same events recurred.

The sentry reported to Gann Arfur, "Flashes and explosion on the horizon, Sir, North West , sensors suggest 20 kliks distance."
"Any idea Hammerhand?" asked the Gann.
"Probably my and Hawk's pet."
"What sort of pet?"
"Our daemonhost, I let him off his leash just before I Ieft to come here. I have also asked him to bring his associate Moloch this time."