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There was a loud crack the Mecon's enhanced ears was barely able to pick up on over the roar of battle. The sound of much air being displaced all at once and he turned his eyes skyward in time to see the battle barges unfurl their colors. He sighed to himself and shook his head, these Imperials had no sense of discretion nor misdirection. The Deceiver would be ashamed. Metal pods rained from the sky, causing much shock and awe but little blood and death. The Thirster would be appalled. The ships uniform colors were a bright brilliant purple, lacking any devious markings, all was clean precision. The Great-Father would be horrified. The Marines that came down would have a single purpose and would not have any time for personal pleasure or gain. Slaneesh would rage. All Mecon saw though was targets, new creatures to destroy and the potential for much destruction within all the new comers. Malal would be sated. He grinned and waved the vehicles forward once more, moving up through the Imperial lines towards their command center. The guise was holding up well and they daemon had not engaged anyone after killing the perimeter guard. The men in the tanks were getting restless, they wanted destruction, to unleash their power and pay homage to their god through glorious destruction and death. To bathe the city in a baptism of fire and ruin. Mecon had different plan though. He wanted to infiltrate the enemy lines as far as possible before opening up on them. To push as deep as he could before sowing confusion that would cripple the Imperial war machine. That was his task.

A squad of Vendetta's passed over head and Mecon waved to them, sure that his guise as a Guard officer would hold up, as would the IFF's his tanks had and the clearance codes he gleaned from a Officers mind as the tanks had rumbled by their positions earlier. As Raptor Two-Five made its maneuver above them, Mecon signaled his driver to raise the Lemans main barrel in a salute to the craft. He was pretending to be an Officer of the Imperial Guard, so there was no reason not be cordial with the humans. Besides, he did so enjoy interacting with the short but ferociously lived humans.

"Raptor Lead to Armor Command, Good Hunting, Bag some Heathen scum, over." The Changer-of-ways would be proud of him. Malal would reward him.

"Armor Command to Raptor Lead, roger WilCo. Get some of them damn Heretics for us eh?" He radioed back, loving every second of the feel of the humans voicebox making the vibrations necessary for human communication. It was a wondrous and unique feeling to one who was used to communicating simply by thought, and he had labored long over finding the right accent to use before deciding upon a voice he had heard in a holo-drama. His voice was warm and friendly with just a touch of a drawl to it, but underneath was the stone hard, ice cold speach patterns of a seasoned killer. For a brief moment he hoped that Raptors would radio back, but a large explosion lit the sky where the flight had just gone to. He wasn't sure who had been taken out but the wing was now beyond the range of his auspex. That was just fine with him though as the afore mentioned Astartes (Quasar Marines Chapter) were landing all through out the city and he knew he would need every ounce of his concentration to make it past the Angels of Death, or he risked blowing his cover and engaging in an all out fight with the Marines. Not a bad plan either way.