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This wasn't what Dravis had had in mind, all he wanted was a decent drink and a chance to sullenly slip into his thoughts, but Cvask did seem to be making progress in gaining the trust of a poor excuse for a human.
His finger had been tapping the power up switch of his loosened plasma pistol the whole time, doing his best not to draw it, but ready just in case. But of course, he'd downed a few beers now and his reactions weren't what they were, so upon hearing the words 'phase 2' in his earpiece it took him a moment to draw his weapons and get to his feet.
At that his mind cleared and he took in the chaos before him, Cvask was moving and had already spilt blood, and the bar was emptying, at least to point, a crowd of patrons was moving in.

It seemed the bar was a hub for the weapons trade they were investigating.
"You ready to fight?" Cut in Cvask's voice

"I'm ready to die!" Dravis snapped back, replacing his commissarial cap and blasting his plasma pistol into the chest of the nearest opponent. Hefting his power sword he moved back to back with Cvask and let them come.

At last! Permission to engage! My eager hands flew to my laspistols clipped to my thigh holsters, flinging back the robes with unfettered glee.
Semi-auto setting.
Lasbolts streaked around me, cutting down any and everyone stood around me. The group of civvies carrying my storm trooper comrade dropped him as they ran for their lives from the bloodbath.
Too slow.
My keen eyes, glistening with joy at the thrill of combat, gunned down a pair of them, crisp headshots. Another fell moments later, my thrown combat blade lodged between his vertebrae. A final lasbolt fried the tendon in the last cultist's leg. He dropped to the floor, screaming in pain. Around me, the storm troopers were gunning down civvies in the plaza. I recalled the Inquisitor's instructions briefly as I skipped through the steaming piles of corpses.
"Cover the exits and deny all escape. Gun them all down."
The cultist at my feet desperately attempted to scramble away from me. Lifting him up to my face, I allowed him to stare into my cold, heartless, remorseless eyes. I felt his soul quake before me.
"You know what I will do to you. If you do not talk. And if you tell so much as a single white lie. Or withhold any information I deem essential to completing my objective. I will personally take the utmost pleasure in dragging you into Hell with me."

Cvask kicked the nearest woman down and his staff stabbed straight down into her chest. She screamed as he wrenched it out and flipped around over the bar and slamming the bartender through the wooden floor.

He stumbled and then ripped open his shirt, roaring in an inhuman gibbering. Oh Throne.

Cvask had already dropped his spent Bolt Pistol. Twirling on the balls of his feet, he used the staff to launch him away from the sprouting purple claw that jutted out of his back. It found its way around to him and he danced back again, goading it out. He needed room to maneuver and needed room to dance the dance of death.

He danced back and his back hit the wall. He grumbled in annoyance as he leapt up and pushed out of the wall, aiming past the blasphemous creature and into the room.

He was flung the other way as he was caught in the side with the xeno claw smashed him. The wind broke out of him as he was smashed into the side of the wall and went through, straight into the cold pathway that was filled with panicked citizens that ran like frightened cattle.

He groaned and leaning on his staff, he shakily got to his feet. He heard a roar inside and his head snapped to the massive hole in the war. Luckily it was very weak metal flooring, or otherwise he would've come off with more than lacerations on his back. It stung like a killer waspkin, but he would survive.

Out of the blackness spilled forth a hybrid horror that belonged with his wildest and most horrific nightmares. Its jaw was a massive jutted ugly thing, like it was an ill fitting Ork bottom jaw replacement that settled on it a elognated purple slimy snake that danced hungrily.
The rest of the clothing was ripped with trendils and claws jutting out of its back, and its skin towards the hands were warped into scale like things with webbed hands with razor sharp claws.

Well this is the end, being eaten by a horrific jaw thing at the arse of the world. At least he would die fighting the enemies of mankind, even if it was in a backwater like this where he grew up.

He died upholding his masters mission. One traitor at a time, he vowed he would rid humanity of the horrors wherever they went.

Fitting.

He glanced up at his death and instantly the entire twisted horrors body was surrounded by a blinding halo of light. His eyes burned with the brightness and he turned away.

He glanced back again once the burning halo faded in his eyes, like it was the Emperor himself that returned to this mortal coil full of despair and endless bloodshed.

With the Emperor's light, half of the mutant creature's body was liquified.

Thank you Emperor, he prayed and whispered the Holy Creed for reassurance that the Emperor heard his voice.

A cross cut sliced through a mutant ahead of Dravis before a reverse slice took the oversized 'club' arm from another. A green blade thrust under his arm from behind him, leaving a deep score along his ribs, spinning away from the blade and bringing his blade around to parry a second thrust Dravis saw Cvask had moved away from him, thus exposing his back and leading to the wound that was slowly numbing his side.
Smashing the creature in the face with the pommel of his weapon Dravis located Cvask biting off more than he could chew, 'such indiscipline' thought Dravis, reflexively thumbing the power switch on his plasma pistol up a notch.
'Not a commissar' Dravis reminded himself, stepping forward, impaling another mutant and unleashing an overpowered plasma shot at a nightmare looking creature standing over Cvask.
Blinding plasma light shot forth, stunning the creatures around Dravis, and giving him a second to reposition his fighting stance now favouring his left side. His arm was numbing and he returned his pistol to it's holster. It was going to overheat if he fired it again, and he didn't trust his aim anyway.
Turning side on to the remaining mutants, Dravis levelled his blade at the nearest and allowed him to come

Snap clicking on his squad Vox as he held of the mutants, Dravis sent out an open message to his inquisitorial allies

***all forces, this is Dravis, Cvask and I have located a key location and look to be overrun, requesting reinforcement for further investigation.***

A swift parry and twist removed a leg from a mutant attempting to get around Dravis' weaker side, before he clicked to his direct channel

***lord inquisitor, the space marine has gone MIA, it may be time to regroup before a concerted advance***

Uriah Xanthis was in the lift with several other residents of the station when the Inquisitor's orders came through. "Well, this is awkward," he sighed as everyone began moving away from him and he noted several of his fellow passengers, possible gangers eyeing him, reaching for their weapons. He immediately adjusted into a weaver stance while bringing up his bolter up to bear. Innocence would die, but innocence would die either way in this compact compartment... if anyone here truly was innocent. Those nearest him barely began to scream and the gangers barely began to bear their weapons upon him. With a grim snarl upon his face, the elevator was suddenly filled with the sound of bolterfire and intermittent shots of other weaponry as it descended further into the lower levels of the station.

Within, a cold sense of satisfaction swept over Uriah. Once again, he was the Law. Once again, he felt like an Arbitrator. Once again, He was Judge, Jury and Executioner. The elevator was covered in gore, cries and moan filled it alongside the dead and injured. His bionic eyes swept over everything and everyone. All that were injured seemed to either be lightly so or beyond saving... minus a few. One in particular caught his attention. A ganger lay in the corner grasping the stump of what had been one of his arms. In his waist band was a knife. Striding over to the ganger, Uriah placed his boot up against the ganger's temple pinning his head to the elevator wall. Quickly, he pulled out the knife from the waistband, cutting the ganger earning a yelp of pain from him. The knife, wasn't Imperium made, Uriah wasn't sure if it was even man made.

Looking down at the ganger, placing the knife at his throat, Uriah growled, "Where did you get this knife?"

Cvask nodded to Dravis as he spun around and booted a man straight in the chest before sliding to the back and hooking his staff through the mans stomach. He screamed in pain as blood spilled like it was flowing.

A woman was scrambling towards the back entrance, but then switched into running towards the lho-place. The rest of the people were now butchered, corpses draped around the room like they were becoming the new carpet. She jumped straight into the lho-place, screaming as the open fire burned her as she passed straight through and then disappeared.

Dravis noticed it too. "Well, what do you think?" Cvask asked, picking up his fallen bolt pistol and slamming a fresh clip into the holder.

Julius pushed himself into the state of mind he adopted when forced to kill civvies.
Workin in the inquisition, doing so wasn't a possibility, but an inevitability.
He tore the cloak from his body, and the people inthe street were momentarily stunned. He marked Dyana's position, and swung his gun infront of him. The chain was already attached, and ran throug a cross peice on his thigh. The people around him turned to run, a few drew weapons, in vain. He had four chains, and each one was two hundred bullets, they were small, light and not his first choice, useless against real armour. But they chewed through flesh and cloth as he fingered and held the trigger. Two hundred bullets. Every single person aside from himself and Diana in the street died.

I checked the corpses of the bodies in the blood-soaked plaza. So far, I had only found pitiful amounts of currency, food wrappers and other harmless fetishes in their bloodied remains. The coins I pocketed, maybe useful later. The storm troopers around me were creating a cordon around the plaza, occasionally checking the bodies for any sign of movement. However, nothing came down any of the 8 paths into the courtyard.
The cultists, unsurprisingly, carried little. My cognitive mind fell to the assumption that they had been hired, maybe unaware of the faction and forces they were serving. I cared not. My prisoner, the only non-Inquisitorial agent in the area, was crumpled in a corner, his garments soiled. I had a feeling that the shock of the assault had broken his mind. That was unfortunate. I would require a telepath or trained Interrogator to get any information out of him. Or I could just kill him. The pathetic snivelling was really beginning to get to me.
At long last, my search was rewarded. A small scrap of yellowed, torn paper was crumpled in the pocket of one of the cultists. I couldn't read the scrawled symbols on the page, but I recognised them well enough. Xenos ciphers. I grunted in annoyance and voxed over to the team.
"Sergeant Teodor, got some confirmed xenos messages here. I require a linguist on middle level, some kind of plaza. You'll pick up the smell a mile off."
The bodies really did smell bad. Slumping up again the concrete fountain wall in the centre, I wondered when the foul odour would get cycled through the oxygen systems.

Dravis looked at Cvask before replying, "I think we need reinforcements at this location, but first I need medical treatment, one of those blades has done some damage, my left side is numbing."

Cvask nodded, looking at the ruin on Dravis' arm. He pulled out his caesure needle, a small looking pointed dagger no larger than the size of his small finger.
"Hold still." He nodded before stabbing the needle straight into the ripped apart flesh. Dravis growled and howled as he bit down on his tongue. Cvask let go of the needle and siezed the mans arms.
He was surprisingly strong, but soon he got tired. The white liquid within the needle burst forth and soon hissed with the smell of cauterized flesh.
The needle was actually a burning beacon; it removed the dead flesh and stimulated the white blood cells into a faster action so it'll scab and heal faster than normal.

Cvask let Dravis go as Dravis smacked down onto the table, in a bit of pain. The wound had already scabbed over and the flesh was re-knitting. "Your welcome." Cvask nodded.

"To Master I, we have found a possible entry into an underground basement. It may hold a Headquarters base for the enemy. Request back up at this location." He thumbed the mic again and turned on his tracker.

"Looks like we have a wee bit of a clusterfeth here, my Lord. Would it not be prudent to organise a regroup somewhere?"

"What the feth is that?" Cvasks' treatment seemed to have done a good job of restoring feeling to Dravis' left side, the wound seemed to be knitting and the tingle in his fingers told him feeling was returning. He wasn't 100%, he could still feel a lot of stiffness, the damage potentially already done, but it was keeping him functional.

"Never mind, any luck with a response from the chief? Iv had nothing, and don't fancy entering without some back up"

"Junior Commissar Dravis, it would seem we are alone in here. I suggest we co-ordinate our resources and chase what leads we have. Or look for the Inquisitor. Whichever floats your metaphorical boat."

Dyana unslings her hotshot lasgun. "You do the Emperor proud", she says to the other, "But now we have no leads and the local Planetary Defense Force is probably on its way".

julius gave her a crooked grin, and the left side of his face twitched. "we don't have to worry about that." julius flickeup the red dot sight of his LMG, he'd need it in a firefight. he watched a fleck of blood drip from the crookeger of a civilian woman. probably an innoscent. julius turned away and blanked out the bodies around him.

[Wait] Flash [Wait] Flash [Wait] Flash ........

Suddenly the flashing blue light stopped. Leaving an eerie blackness to permeate through the crate. The darkness was then replaced by a bright red light that rapidly flickered on and off in warning.

Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE] Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE] Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE]

The Cryo-pod hissed as it released freezing air and coolant. The coolant was a pale blue liquid that splashed out into the crate and leaked through the cracks; it would cause freeze-burns to anyone that came into contact with it. If anyone was standing nearby they would begin to feel a cold wind emanating from the crate like an omen of death.

Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE] Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE] Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE]

The Eversor within the pod began stirring. The Ice crystals that coated his body had begun melting, causing water to run like sweat and pool at the bottom of the pod. His helmet's eyes began to glow a warm orange that seemed to accelerate his activation process.

Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE] Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE] Flash Flash Flash [ACTIVATE]

The crate burst apart in an explosion of splinters and wooden chunks; leaving behind only the empty cryo-pod surrounded by coolant and bits of wood. The Eversor stood there with his head and eyes flashing backwards and forwards analyzing his environment. From where he stood on the docks he saw that they were deserted apart from the few stormtroopers that had been escorting his crate. He heard distant weapons fire and screaming coming from a sealed blast door ahead of him, that appeared to be the only way to enter the rest of the station.

The Eversor screamed a howl so loud and long that it burst the eardrums of the nearby stormtroopers even through their all-encompassing helmets. It would have probably been heard by the entire station; that had rather been the point. The stormtroopers were all clutching their heads and either rolling on the floor, stumbling around or kneeling. The Eversor burst into motion, heading directly for the entrance for the station but unfortunately for one of the stormtroopers, he had stumbled directly into the shortest path between the Eversor and the Blast Door. Even though the Inquisitor's Retinue had been tagged as friendly in the Eversor's threat matrix, only the Inquisitor himself was totally safe; the others would be killed if they got in Eversor #3329's way. The Eversor swung and cut the stormtrooper in half as he barreled towards the door, leaving the two twitching halves in a puddle of blood and guts on the floor.

The Eversor knew his mission and it was simple.
[Kill them all]

"Agreed." Nodded Cvask. He had sobered up quite well despite himself, and now felt fresher than ever. It was time to do the Emperor's work.

Without a glance back, Cvask leapt through the crackling lho-fire that eternally flickered and burned. He didn't feel one single piece of heat eminating from the fire. He rolled to his feet and came up to the damnable emptiness that made his stomach twist in knots of fear.

Calm down, it is just darkness. It does not hold the demons of the world. He bent down on his knees and muttered a quick prayer to the Emperor for deliverance.

The other two soldiers cautiously came through. Since none of them had any torches, Cvask employed his mechanical skills to work.

He channelled the energy of his staff into a single blade, feeling it crackle with power. He then slid out his Bolt Pistol and after some tinkering with the internal structure of the weapon, he created a spark as he fired a blank onto the boundless crackling energy.

The spark hissed and with the Emperor's fury it spread to create a raging inferno that burned like a shining heart on his silver blade. It would last for a long time and was easily controlled. With this simple action, the enemy of mankind was banished to the Throne-forsaken corners that twisted out of sight.

The hallway was a twisting path that looked more like a hybrid of coal coloured metal that bent and fused in an ugly way with the corrugated iron and steel floors. Only previous echoes haunted the hallways, making Cvask jump in surprise and unease. He hated the darkness, ever since he was a kid.

Wielding the multi-use staff in his hand, Cvask led the way of the group down the winding and twisting halls.

I am still holding my position. In absence of other orders, I have resolved to hold this position. I shall watch over the piles of bloodied bodies, scorched with lasfire, until I am relieved of my position. The stormtroopers are smoking, chatting trying to avoid the glazed eyes of the dead. The cultist is curled in the corner, whimpering. I can't get anything out of him. I need a psyker. God-Emperor, he is pathetic. So pathetic. I will hold this position 'till relieved. Any time now.
A pebble scuttles over the street. I raise to my feet, sniper rifle ready and braced. The scope scans the road. Nothing. Not yet. But I did hear something. Didn't I?

The Eversor dealt with the blast door easily; using a melta bomb to turn it to molten slag, he was through it and barreling down the corridor in seconds. He only encountered a few members of the local populace which he eliminated swiftly and spectacularly in rainbows of blood and other bodily fluids. The area actually seemed rather quiet, leading him to believe that the targets had fled to either make a last stand or attempt to escape.

[Kill Count: 17]

As he was sprinting down a corridor with blood dripping off of him like water from a shower, he heard muffled whimpers and cries from a door situated to his right. He skidded to a halt and looked at the door; it was an old and solid blast door designed to withstand massive explosions. Upon analyzing the station's blueprints in his mind, he saw that it was an emergency shelter to protect inhabitants in case the Station was under attack or if an accident occurred. Now it would act like a tomb.

Eversor #3329 activated his video and audio recording device and began to make his way inside the shelter. He chose not to use a Melta Bomb but to instead create as much fear as possible; he forced his lightning claw into the crack between the blast door and the floor and began working it there. Showers of sparks cascaded around it and he knew the targets inside would be terrified by the display. He continued to drag his claw upwards, slowly shredding the door and leaving a small glowing gap. He shoved his way through the small gap and emerged inside the shelter. He stood up, with globules of molten metal rolling off of his armour and splattering to the floor. Everyone in the room had gone silent and trembled at the sight of his blood covered carapace and grinning skull helmet. He scanned the room and saw that there were exactly 72 people in the room, men, women and children..... all marked for death.

Eversor #3329 charged into the middle of them and grabbed the largest man by the throat and dragged him, screaming and fighting, quickly back to the door before anyone could react. He was a really big man but the Eversor threw him at the hole in the door with ease and began kicking. His leg slammed into the man as if it was a piston, killing him by the second blow and forcing the body into the gap; effectively sealing it with a combination of red mushy tissues and white gleaming bone. Everyone was screaming in horror now and begging; they always did that. The Eversor raised his gun and began shooting as he charged at them with the CLAK CLAK CLAK of his needle pistol augmenting the clatter of his boots upon the floor. People hit by the Needle pistol fell over screaming and began writhing in agony on the floor as the poison destroyed their flesh and left them convulsing and frothing at the mouth. Others were luckier and were quickly gutted or decapitated by his flashing claw. After about one minute, only five of the targets were left and they were huddling in a corner and praying to the Emperor. The Eversor became enraged at their false piety and screamed his rage at them. He grabbed them one by one and cut out their tongues, gouged out their eyes and then bloodily eviscerated them.

He stood in the middle of the room with the walls splattered with blood and other unidentifiable pieces of human anatomy. He still only saw red and was breathing heavily, unable to control his rage. Eversor #3329's internal systems observed that he was out of combat and so pumped a little tranquilizer into his veins to calm him down and to restore a little conscious thought. He stopped the recording and sent it to the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor would ensure that it would, 'find', its way into the public's hands as an example of what happens to all traitors or heretics.

[Kill Count: 89]

He forced his way back through the bloody gap, his carapace was covered in chunks of flesh and human matter and was painted with gore.
He continued on for his job was not yet done; there were many more Heretics to slay today.

Uriah finished tying the ganger to the chair. Shortly after he had begun questioning, the elevator had reached it's destination and the doors had opened to reveal the station's police waiting armed and ready. The security system had already alerted them to the violence and carnage that had been unleashed. Fortunately, revealing his ties to the Inquisition, Uriah Xanthis was quickly given all he had asked for from these men and women. Xanthis stood back and then double checked his handiwork. That ganger was not escaping anytime soon. Uriah then went over to a table and shed his long coat and his loose shirt to reveal his uniform below. He then removed that taking him down to his bare skin. poking and prodding his torso, he found he had some minor flesh wounds and minor damage to some of his bionics. Nothing that would impair him quite yet. Grabbing a first aid kit the police had provided, he stitched up a few of his wounds. He noted that the ganger saw this and flinched every time he pierced his own flesh with the need.

"Good," he thought, "this one won't take long to break." finishing what he deemed to be necessary concerns, he turned his attention to the ganger, hiding a scalpel from the ganger's view. "What's your name boy?" The ganger looked at him in surprise then disgust.

"Feth you man," this was followed by the ganger spitting on Uriah, strike one. "You think you can blow off my arm, kill my friends, put your boot in my face, then ask me my name like we friends or somethin'?! Hell no! I wouldn't tell you if you were the emperor himself!" Taking the God Emperor's name in vain, strike two. Uriah smiled at the ganger.

"Now now, I can't help you if you don't help me, hm? And how am I to fill out a report of cooperation if I don't get your name? Otherwise, who knows what the Inquisition will have done with you?" The ganger paused in fear, of course he would. The Inquisition was not known for kindness after all, cruelty was its mistress. For a moment, it looked like the ganger was going to spill it all, but the moment passed and the ganger found his balls to once again throw on the facade that he was a man and not a rabid rodent plaguing the Imperium.

"Feth your Inquisition! You ain't nuthin' but pussies thinkin' you're big gak with your shiny badges and big guns. Well, you ain't nothin' but some dead guy on a shiny toilet's whore! Yeah, he's pimpin' you out for bullets and blood you.. GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!" Emperor's name taken in vain again, strike three. Uriah had quickly grabbed the ganger's bottom lip and whipped out the scalpel with which he quickly cut off the flesh, tossing it aside. The ganger screamed and screamed. Uriah wiped off the scalpel, setting it aside. He turned back to the table and grabbed a canteen from which he took a gulp from. After the screaming had reduced to low moans, Uriah turned his attention back to the ganger.

"Now, this wasn't necessary, but you decided to pretend you had balls and were a man. An honorable move, but mistaken. You see, I'm sure you had met plenty of people, plenty of scum in which that'd work in your behalf. Perhaps you even intimidated some of the local police force, who knows? However, you fail to recognize that in this room, right now, I can see through your bs, I can see you for what you truly are, I am the real man here. You are nothing more than a rodent, no, a malignant parasite which only weakens and breaks down it's host slowly and painfully. Your kind only takes from the Imperium which protects you and you give nothing in return but unfettered ingratitude and betrayal." Uriah then grabbed the knife he had pulled from the ganger's belt earlier, "now this knife, where did you get it?"

 the shrouded lord wrote:
julius gave her a crooked grin, and the left side of his face twitched. "we don't have to worry about that." julius flickeup the red dot sight of his LMG, he'd need it in a firefight. he watched a fleck of blood drip from the crookeger of a civilian woman. probably an innoscent. julius turned away and blanked out the bodies around him.

Dyana, on her part, doesn't fire a single shot with her hotshot lasgun. She instead watches Julius make short work of these civilians. Over the gunfire she loudly asks, "Why are we shooting these people?!".