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From the estate, movement could be heard. From their perch, the assassins could see a practical sea of yellow and black uniforms shifting behind the high walls as soldiers moved about. They looked like bumblebees; in colouration and in purpose, a swarming mass of armed drones responding to a threat to the hive. The doors of the estate would groan and begin to whine open; just enough for a single figure to emerge. Heavy carapace armour was swaddled by an oversized greatcoat, and from their scarred face and breasful of medals, it was clear that whoever this person was, they were no rookie enforcer. "Hail there, lapdogs of the bitch." His voice was deep and booming, carrying clear across.

"Gun me down like a dog, and my last dying breath will be spent laughing as your face is melted off, so why don't we both pretend to be reasonable individuals and par-ley?" He pronounced every word in a thick, scummish hiver accent. Sweeping his greatcoat back, a tremendous handcannon sat at his hip, the man's hand holding his coat back to allow him to draw the gun without interference if needed. "Hoi, look at that too. Another bitch, sent here from another world to fuck our affairs over." He spat on the floor. "Here's the long and short. I know your type, lawmen. There ain't no inquisitor up there, just some judge, and you've decided you want to crack this hive like a nut. We won't letcha. The legitimate authority of this planet now lives here, and you can either fuck off now, or do it after your teeth've been staved in with lead."

[hr]

The manufactory was located deep within the hive; built over a thousandfold times. As the ebony robed figures stalked closer to the location they had been inexorably marching towards it, they would find it surrounded by a number of heavily-armed individuals, and judging by the lack of robes in kind (and the rather too human look of them) these were not fellow priests. Indeed, no sooner had they come into view of the building had the Magos received a familiar feeling datapackage; the size and 'weight' of which indicated it to be a private communication by another techpriest.

[i]Foundry-Foreman/Talos C-3/They/Them/Lower Ranked/Respectful Hail/[/i]

[i]Glory to you, Servants of the Omnissiah. We are beseiged. Our foundry carries within it weapons blessed by the machine spirit, rending and glorious. Our military might is weak. We fear not the harshest of gazes- come, probe us for heresy.[/i] 

The entire transmission had taken less than the average human's reaction time to be commmunicated.

[hr]

"I know-" Hera cut herself off and reached up to her face as Parasha staggered into view. She would lift up the sleek-fitting glasses on her face and scrutinise them, eyes unblinking for a good fifteen or so seconds, before finally letting her eyewear slip back down and turning her head back towards her henchman. She moved her head like a predator did; the rest of her body stock still so as to not alert her prey to her intentions. "I know not the name. Refer to it by the callsign 'Gravestone.'" Her lips had pursed into a frown, and then her hands would snap up to her chest. Interlocked thumbs, widespread palms pressed against her chest. The sign of the Aquila. "Go with the Emperor in your souls."

Once she had finished the salute, she took a step back and allowed the retinue to slowly filter into the torpedo. Once they had done so, she slid the hatch shut herself and pressed a finger to the commsbead in her ear. "Prep torpedo for launch into Gravestone." Inside the spartan tube, there were several of the form-fitting voidsuits that the retinue had been promised, well-cared for and with air tanks provided too. Three hours of oxygen, and then rebreathers to ensure that those three hours could last for closer to three days. As they donned them, the entire structure shuddered, the autoloader carrying it from the loading bays to the missile tubes. 

"Prepare for torpedo launch. T-10 seconds." The torpedo tube locked shut behind the craft with a resounding clunk.

"T-9 seconds."

"T-8 seconds."

"T-7 seconds."

"T-6 seconds."

"T-5 seconds."

"Alright, get this over with." The voice that crackled through their ears was Hera's now.

"Launch expidated. May the Machine Spirit carry you true." A deafening explosion came from the rear of the craft as the initial boosters ignited. With g-forces that could easily render a man unconcious, the craft shook to life, and the crew inside were catapulted quite forcefully into the unknown.