Artenius was careful not to pick a side when it came to the apparent suppressed rage of the Space Shark, in the librarian's mind that was being loyal and then there was being overly eager to give your life. With a careful and perhaps calming tone, the brother-librarian spoke.

“Brothers, there is little need for combat here...or, threatening behaviour.” He paused a moment, allowing himself a few more moments to dwell upon exactly what he would say. “Space Shark, brother, you do well to remember that being over eager to give one's life means that you can no longer act in the name of the Emperor.” With that said, Artenius hefted his black mark five helmet over his head, and with a careful dedication, put on ancient war gear. 

He held the armour near and dear to his very heart, a reminder of the great woes of the Heresy and what the interests of a single misguided soul can wreak upon all those around him. It was with anxiety tugging away at him that he counted the very moments until the landing, the jaws of hell itself perhaps awaiting them.

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You continue to socialise for those faint few minutes that remained before the estimated landing time, and the certainty that was to be the hell that would await you all. With the same ear-splitting crackling and interference the pilot spoke once more. “Landing, in two minutes.” Out of the miniscule porthole, those around it could make out the scenery below, that of a mildly forested woodland with a questionably sized clearing not far from there. Those with keener vision could perhaps even make out the distinctive blocky shapes of defence bunkers and orbital weaponry upon a nearby mountain passage, though the mighty guns stood dormant – evidence that your infiltration has occurred without fault. Yet.

With a juddering motion that shook the ship and caused those not strapped in to gently slide to the side, the ship began to hastily decrease its speed. You with the pilot's voice crackle, this time more frantic than before. “Xenos scanners in the area, kill team, prepare yourselves for ground-based resistance upon landing.” His once monotone and unwavering voice seemed to have the smallest spark of doubt in it, the smallest piece of anxiety that was eternally pulling away at his nerve. “Emperor preserve you.” 

The shuttle reaches the clearing without incident, though some of you could perhaps swear that you saw shapes darting about in the lofty branches of the canopy. Touchdown also went without incident, as the landing gear held fast, steadying the ship and allowing you all a stable platform enough to stand and ready yourselves one last time.

“Landing successful.” You hear the pilot crackle from his clearly augmented voice box, though his previous worry seems to now be replaced with a sort of fanatical zeal at the landing. Before you, the once sealed doors that lead to the outside hiss open, revealing the alien world that previously lurked just outside your shuttle. A green light begins to flash as these monolithic doors open, sending a soft chiming that signifies to you that your time is nigh.

The light outside is blinding, though your super-human sight swifty adjusts to the bright sun of this world. In orderly rank you all exit the shuttle, clearing just enough space to allow a safe lift off once more. The last you see of the vessel is it entering the lower atmosphere, it breaks the stratosphere just as the explosion of a primitive firearm cracks across the forest. 

The projectile strikes Brother Artirius Minsk in the helmet. Despite the bullet's obviously inferior technology, it sends out a gruesome crack as it breaches the Space Marine's helmet, and slays him outright. You have just enough time to see the faintest trickle of blood leak from the wound before the Son of Russ drops dead, and you all run to cover.

Five vaguely avian creatures are now rushing towards you, all firing their primitive guns with glee.