Brother Captain Ulrich paced restlessly down the halls of the Sanctus Vox. The small strike cruiser was traveling through the warp with only a skeleton crew on the way to Istan III.
He mentally reviewed the vox transmission from the ordo malleus:
" Istan III has fallen… Heavy chaos presence… Immediate assistance required"
The idea that such a heavily defended forgeworld could fall so quickly was unheard off. He prayed to the emperor that the reports were incorrect.
Just as Ulrich was approaching the armory, he felt the Sanctus Vox shudder as the ship dropped out of the warp. There it was on the view screen. A rusted putrid looking battlecruiser hovering menacingly over top of the planet.
The plan was simple. The Vox could not hope to defeat the battlecruiser; it would do a low orbit flyby at the primary space port and drop Ulrich's strike force in. The goal? Secure the spaceport and hold out till reinforcements arrive… a daunting task to say the least.
Ulrich grabbed his hammer and walked into the teleportarium. He closed his eyes and felt the reassuring light of the Emperor bathing over him through the warp. Perhaps there was hope yet, he thought.
The Vox approached low orbit and the time had come to storm the space port. The Grey Knights had come… the last hope for a dying world.