Vercingetorix fell through the atmosphere, ensconced in the blackness of his drop pod. The hull glowed with the heat of atmospheric entry. Inside the craft, the only noise was the low hum of power fields and the oscillating noise of plasma guns warming up.
"Spirit, what is the output of the plasma coils? HUD indicates an excessive magnetic flux."
The coils are operating at 110% of normal capacity, my companion. We thought it prudent to build excess charge that we may fire uninterrupted upon landing. We will compensate for excess heat that it does not endanger the flesh of We.
SIXTY SECONDS UNTIL PLANETARY IMPACT...
The drop pod hurtled toward the ground at speeds upward of 150 meters per second. The violence of its passing tore a hole in the clouds and dim sunlight poured through the hole, casting a circle of light on the ground. In the sky around his vessel, dozens of other pods shredded the air as they passed, shattering the sky. Vercingetorix's massive body strained against the harness that held it in place. He flexed his massive metal hands and dimly remembered the sensation of skin against skin. That was another time, another life. Now his life was only war.
FORTY-FIVE SECONDS UNTIL PLANETARY IMPACT...
My companion, topography indicates high ground three hundred meters from designated landing zone, heading two-nine-six.
Vercingetorix consulted his HUD map.
"Confirmed. Adjust course."
It shall be so, my companion. This pod's spirit concurs with We. Updating Astartes Tactical Grid layout and transmitting new coordinates to Pod formation.
Vercingetorix could feel the machine spirit's agitation. It stimulated an increase in his adrenaline production. His mind stirred restlessly and his massive metal body shifted in response.
THIRTY SECONDS UNTIL PLANETARY IMPACT...
We feel the war song, my companion. We hear its words in your head. It is good for We. It is why We are.
Vercingetorix tuned his vox unit to the command frequency for the drop pod battlegroup. "Revenants Diocles and Horovus, prioritize Hammerhead-class hovertank, then select opportunity targets at will. Tactical Squad Gamedes, secure the bunker at battlegrid coordinate VIII Sigma-6. Tactical Squad Androi, relieve the PDF platoon marked on the ATG." Vercingetorix paused, consulting his map again.
FIFTEEN SECONDS UNTIL PLANETARY IMPACT...
"Devastator Squad Filos, you will secure Saint's Ridge and deploy long-range firepower to cover Androi's withdrawal to VIII Sigma-6. The Emperor protects."
DEPLOYING RETRO THRUSTERS. FIVE SECONDS...
Vercingetorix felt the hammer-blow of the massive rockets beneath him as they strove to tear his vehicle free from the clutches of gravity. Restraints in his sarcophagus embraced his frail flesh, protecting him from the worst of the buffeting.
Revere the Omnissiah, my companion.
"The Omnissiah guides us all, Spirit."
The pod smashed into the earth with a hellacious roar, crushing an unfortunate fire warrior beneath it. The doors exploded outward, flattening two more troopers who were not fast enough. Vercingetorix felt the tremors that shook the ground as his brethren landed amid the Tau lines.
"YOUR DEATH IS UPON YOU, ALIENS. TREMBLE BEFORE THE MIGHT OF THE EMPEROR!"
Vercingetorix strode down the ramp of his drop pod, fists crackling with distorting energy and the magnetic coils on his plasma guns glowing with barely-contained energy. He felt a surge of joy as the Machine Spirit awoke to its full fury.
Come, my companion. There is much death for We to bring!