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Beslian pressed on, clearly concerned for the fate of the Archeohort now it was his. "I would respectfully suggest you call in reinforcements from your Chapter starfleet, brother-sergeant. A massed force of ships c mbt kisumu ould obliterate Dynikas V with a sustained cyclonic torpedo barrage and suffer only a few losses in return." Sove snorted, his scarred face wrinkling. "It could take weeks to gather more ships." "The cousin is right," Ajir threw the Flesh Tearer a nod. "And even then, even if we had the time to wait, how can we be sure that Bile will not simply spirit himself away as he did when he fled from Baal?" Cheap mbts For a moment, Rafen was silent, perhaps recalling the memory of a dim corridor beneath the Vitalis Citadel, and the brimstone stink of a spent warp gate. "The kill must be made close at hand. From high orbit, hiding behind guns… That will not suffice. Our honour demands more." "L mbt shoes online ogic—" Beslian barely got the word out before Noxx was at his side, a finger pressing on his sunken chest. "You heard the Blood Angel," he said. "This is a matter of retribution, not your precious logic." The logis' opt mbt shoes ics whined as they blinked. "As you wish…" He backed away, nearly to the edge of the mobile platform. "But… but what <a href="http://www.hairstraightenersghds-sale.com/ghd-boho-chic-limited-p-5731.html"><strong>purple ghd</strong></a> other means of attack is there?" "Thunderhawks and drop-pods will be obliterated before they even cut atmosphere," said Ceris. "Teleporters won't work. There are wards in place to prevent their operation." He tapped his temple. "I see them." Ajir watched Rafen fold his arms. "So all we have are impossibilities. It seems that every step we have taken along this road brings us more of them." He glared at the image. "I am done. I no longer care to hear what we cannot do, and how we will not succeed." The sergeant turned around, his ire burning in his eyes, his stare raking them all. "We were not given this mission in order to fail it! The Emperor's hand is at our backs, and we will not disappoint Him! We have been entrusted with the honour of our Chapter…" Rafen caught Ajir's stare. "The honour of our primarch! So we will find a way!" In the silence that followed, Mohl slowly raised his hand. "If it pleases the brother-sergeant," said the Techmarine, "I have a suggestion." At first glance, it resembled a bomb, but larger than any Rafen had ever seen, greater even than the huge Atlas-class weapons deployed by the Imperial N mbt discount avy against hardened ground targets. Suspended on chains from a gantry over the heads of the Space Marines, it projected an air of menace, its black iron flanks curving up and away. "It's a ship?" demanded Noxx. "Of a sort," Mohl answered. Eigen bent his neck to take the whole thing in. "I've never seen the like before." Rafen spotted hatches along the smoothly rounded prow of the object that lay perfectly flush with the hull metal, and at the opposite end, the weird vessel tapered to a teardrop stern. An X of stubby winglets emerged there, and in the light from the flickering welding torches of servitors, he made out the low mound of a turret on the dorsal surface. "My lords, allow me to mbt clearance present to you the Neimos. According to the dedication plaque within, it was built during the Fantastic Crusade for the service of the Imperial Army. Zellik's relic hunters appropriated it for him several years ago, from a space hulk in the Drache Sector." "The streamlining…" started Turcio. "It's an atmosphere boat." "No," said Rafen, understanding coming to him. "This craft is built for oceans, not air." Mohl nodded. "Right, brother-sergeant. The Neimos is a combat submersible, designed for deployment on ocean worlds. I came across a mention of it in the Magos' inventory." Kayne snorted. "And how does this relic help us get to Bile? What do you propose we do, Flesh Tearer? Drop it on him?" "The hull of the Neimos is constructed from a spun sentanium-ceramite mix. It is a solid piece, extremely durable and flexible. In addition, there are extra layers of ablative armour sheathing its length. While the craft was built for a crew of common sailors, I believe it can be quickly refitted to operate with a handful of Astartes and a contingent of servitors." "You're suggesting we sail this thing under the seas of Dynikas V, right up to the front door of Bile's fortress?" Noxx gave a chuckle that wasn't reflected in his cold eyes. "Let u mbt shoes clearance sale s ignore the dangers of such a journey for a moment and mbts outlet concentrate on the boy's question." He nodded towards Kayne. "Or did you forget Beslian's small show? I question you, what possible value is there for a boat in space?" "The Neimos is orbit descent-capable, lord," Mohl answered. "Shunt-field systems and armour will protect it from the trauma of atmospheric interface. Ballute arrays will slow the fall." "I was right," Kayne said, in disbelief. "You do want to drop it on him." In spite of himself, Rafen found a sudden bark of dry laughter bubbling up inside him. "I confess, Brother Noxx, I am not certain if your Techmarine has lost his reason or gained genius." "I feel the same way," said the Flesh Tearer, glaring at his warrior. "Is such a thing really possible?" Mohl nodded. "Craft of this class have been deployed in combat many times. The survival rate is not exemplary, but." "I'd question you a number for that rate," said Rafen, "but I dread I would regret knowing the answer." "I fail to see the point of this," said Ajir. "If we could close to such range as to launch this… this curiosity… then why not a storm of drop-pods instead?" "Wit mbt shoes uk h the Neimos, we can deploy the craft into the ocean on the far side of Dynikas V from the target atoll, where the fortress' emplaced guns are over the horizon and unable to reach us. In addition, the coverage of the defence satellites is thinner in that area. Once we dive beneath the surface, the gunskulls will not be able to track us." Mohl gestured at the submarine. "We <a href="http://www.uggsoutletssale.com/bailey-button-triplet-c-238.html"><strong>ugg shoes</strong></a> will be free to proceed in stealth." "But how do we get it to launch position?" Kayne insisted. "It will require sacrifice," said the Techmarine, after a moment. A slow smile formed on Rafen's lips as Mohl's meaning became clear to him. "Yes, I reckon it will." He paused, musing. "How long to ready the Neitnos for the drop?" "I have already begun the preparations, lord. A matter of hours." Rafen nodded to himself, voicing his thoughts. "Two squads of men, infiltrated on to the planet, delivered by this vessel to the enemy's fortress. We go in under cover of fire and stealth, and mbt hit the target." "We're doing this, then?" Noxx questioned. "Well. As plans go, it has audacity…" "Will that count for anything if we die of it?" grated Eigen. Rafen glanced around. "Gather your wargear. Prepare yourselves for the coming battle." Kayne's face was sallow. "And may we take the time to pray? I dread we will need all the blessings we can cheap mbt shoes gather to us." The sergeant nodded. "You're right. But know this—the God-Emperor is always watching, and He favours the bold." Beslian came up to meet them on his mobile platform, the mechanism clanking up the levels of the command pit. Rafen turned from the relay helot conveying his orders to the internal and external vox-channels, giving the Mechanicus priest the briefest of looks. "Brother Rafen!" snapped the logis. "What is going on?" He pointed a spindly servo-arm at Mohl. "The Archeohort's control code protocols have been changed. This battle-brother did so, without consulting me! What is the meaning of this?" Rafen ignored him, concentrating on his task at hand. The helot had plugged itself into the construct's machine-call web, and now the Blood Angel's words to it were being broadcast simultaneously to the Astartes upon the bridges of the Gabriel and the Tycho. "Shipmasters," he was saying. "You know your orders. You have five solar days. If we fail in our mission, or if contact is not made using the right cipher protocols, do a maximum strike bombardment of the fortress. By the command of our Chapter Masters, you are to do whatever is required to turn that is mbt walking shoes land into slag… To the forfeiture of your vessels and crews, and beyond. Ave Imperator!" <a href="http://www.uggsbootsforcheaponline.com/classic-mini-5854-c-241.html"><strong>discounted uggs</strong></a> The commanders of the two warships echoed his words and cut the channel. "We are ready to start," said Mohl. "Do so," Rafen told him, before finally giving his attention to the adept. "I believed we had built up a measure of trust!" Beslian grated. "Instead I find my code strings severed, and intruder data impinging on the function of my ship's systems! This will not stand!" "No?" Rafen took a heavy step towards him. "Is it necessary for me to remind you how it is you came to be wearing this icon?" The Blood Angel prodded him in the chest with an armoured finger, pressing the master's si mbt anti shoe gil around Beslian's neck into the folds of his rust-coloured robes. "Know this, my esteemed logis. You command the Archeohort in name only. This vessel belonged to the Sons of Sanguinius the moment we declared it so." "Mohl is a Techmarine!" The priest blurted out the title with mild disgust. "And a Flesh Tearer into the bargain. You know! He is not fit to take mastery of a fine craft like this, even in your primarch's name… The Techmarines come to Mars to be trained, but they do not truly excel! They never know the perfection of the machine as a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus does!" "And yet, despite my apparent lesser status, I was able to lock you from your own codex-system," said Mohl, with deceptive mildness. Beslian ignored the jibe. "Techmarines are brutish, crude and unsophisticated! And Mohl is all the more so for his Chapter and breeding!" The Flesh Tearer's plain face suddenly twisted in annoyance, but Rafen stepped up before he could go towards the adept. "What do you say to me?" the Blood Angel said coldly. "That you are more loyal to my mission than a battle-brother from a kindred Chapter? Do you take me for a fool?" His fist unclenched and he backhanded the adept to the deck. The blow was as light as he could make it—he did not wish to kill the man—but still Beslian went stumbling down in a clatter of metal. "If I learn that you again speak il