Adventures of the 201st Quatrain! IC

[Sir_Toast]

The Stage is set:

You've been traveling through the Warp, as far away from you the Lord General's ship as possible of course. Your ship moves with the confidence of the protection of the massive psyker complement on board. And speaking of confidence, the 201st Quatrains isn't feeling it. At the head of the pack of transport ships is the Lord General's flagship, and with it his beloved 101st Cesarian Tigers. Which is to say, you're about to head straight into the thick of the grox droppings that is the favoritism and overall attitude that is working with them.

However, you don't have to deal with them yet. This is a gentle relief that has managed to keep your Regiment from sinking into total depression. Your upper officers move with agitation, and even Commissar Escobedo speaks of the Tigers with a tightly controlled rage. Traveling with the 201st is an Armor Regiment: the 45th Corossian Rams. Similar to the 201st, they've attracted Quintus' ire. When the Cesarians neglect to report an Ork force that then charged into their unprotected flank, they were reduced by at least half. They managed to destroy their assailants, but the distraction was enough, and a large supply depot was taken by the Orks as the Rams were forced to retreat.

The Rams have yet to return to strength, awaiting reinforcements and resupply, and have been busying themselves with salvaging and repairing what Lemans they can. Many of the 201st have been assisting in the process, leading to a general feeling of respect and goodwill. Morale is on the rise, despite all everything about to happen to you.


Enjoy your flight.

[Sahaar]

Artho sat in a chair in the mess hall, feet propped up on the seat of the table across from him, journal in hand. He tried to think of something intelligent to write, but alas, came up blank. Searching for a muse, he began to read through his previous entries, and came to the conclusion that he was a very boring Sergeant. He looked around the room, in search of human contact of some kind.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra had been kneeling and in deep prayer and meditation most of the recent parts of the trip, mainly because of the overall tension from everyone of 'soon' having to translate back into Real-Space, which seemed like an uncomfortable thing to the Non-Gifted, but to HER it was like hearing... or should i rather say SENSING the cries and screams of a million daemons clawing at the fringes of reality, trying to get through.
Hence why she was in deep prayer and meditation. it was a trick she'd learned, and it helped immensely, compared to just sitting around anyways.

Her Watcher, Harris, was standing nearby ready to intervene should anyone try and harrass Cassandra... and more importantly, he was there in case of a loss of control of Her abilities. He was still fairly new, so he had yet to instinctively know when to apply chastisement to halt or lessen such potential outbreaks of uncontrolled power.
Luckily, Cassandra had yet to loose such control.

She was a recent addition to the Regiment, and from previous experiences, she've chosen to, for the most part, stay away from the rest of the Guardsmen, Although when the Squad Sargeant asked for Her, she would of course oblige, as was i duty after all.

All alone, except for her Watcher, she knelt there in the ancient Chapel infront of the mighty statue of the God-Emperor, or perhaps it would be more correct to say that it was a Depiction of Him, because Cassandra Highly doubted that the Emperor would have wings and talons.... Yet that did not matter. it was a depiction, nothing more; a way of expressing Majestic suppremity and Imperial Order.

[blacklight101]

Izzy and her servitor were in the compartments of the armored regiment they were sharing space with, helping to fix their Leman Russ tanks and few Chimera transports after what the Caesareans did to them.

Mechadendrites playing over part of the engine compartment, she tightens down the last few parts and seals them with prayers and sacred unguents. As she closes the hatch back, she chatters a few quick prayers in binary and expels some incense smoke at it for good measure.

"Feth head Caesareans, as long as they dont pull that dren again, this should be able to take an autocannon round and keep going. Though, if you're friend could hold a spanner properly, those tracks would already be fixed." After a handful of minutes, the tank is totally buttoned back up and she returns to the quarters of the 201st.

[ArcturusV]

Katya was in the midst of her fifth lap. Sweat drenching her body, hair plastered to her head, breathing heavily as she ran past the same corridors she had run past every day in the course of her stay on the vessel. "Bane" was keeping pace with her silently except for the shuffling of his overgrown vat-muscle and the whirring of his Machine Spirits struggling to keep up. She was in her full combat load, lugging her oversized Automatic Shotgun in her arms, pack on her back filled with her gear, the magnoculars strapped around her neck for ease of sighting.

It wasn't TOO unusual to see. On a long trip people needed to keep up their PT however they could. Some got into scuffles, some set up a marksmanship range and tried to keep their skills sharp. Katya ran.

It reminded her of back home, scrambling away from the Seepers when they came for her and her clan. Or avoiding the WAAAAGH!s of Greenskins. Just that heart pounding running on the edge of life and death, each step having to be carefully measured and paced. Couldn't run all out and die tired 10 minutes later. Couldn't go too slow and let them catch up.

She spoke to no one as she ran past them. Nor did "Bane"... not that anyone really expected the lumbering Servitor to actually speak to anyone. But it did create this void of silence around her where all she heard was the sound of their thumping footfalls on the deck, pounding of her heart and the measured deep breaths of a runner as legs tightened up and sides burned in sweet agony.

Everyone had their routine. This was hers. As she ran down the corridor she thought pleasantly of a recyked water shower and a cool down. Her mind was nowhere near the politics of the upcoming campaign, or on the enemies they had to face. Just the simple rhythm of her heart and the meters chewed up every moment of her run.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr was helping the Corossions' repair their armored vehicles, carrying parts from the supply shelves and lugging the replaced parts to the waste pile, looking for anything useful for assembling a still as they went. While the mechanic was hip deep in the engine compartment of a half-fixed Chimera, he saw what he wanted, a copper cooling hose in the waste pile. The next trip to the waste pile, he compressed the coil, checking it for obvious holes, slipping it inside his medical kit nonchalantly. "This should be perfect" he thought to himself, then quickly busying himself running parts to the mechanics, the weight of the copper coil tugging lightly at the strap of his medical kit until the end of the shift, when he calmly walked off back to the regimental medical bay.

[Sahaar]

Artho had made his way to the cathedral now. If nothing else, he figured he might as well have religion in his life. He walked down the hall, coming to a stop next to the squad psyker.

"Ho there, Cassandra," he said casually, looking up to the statue of his god.

[Hemnon]

Did not respond right away, rather she finished off her current prayer instead, steeling her mind and readying herself to stop.

Harris was eyeing the newcomer with a suspicious eye, but did not do anything else but that.

"Good day to you as well. Can i help you with something?" She asked, brushing her fine hair away from her face as she gets back up to her feet. She didn't look much like the average psyker should. She did not look like she had any Skull-shunts, metal plating or that certain creepiness to her. she was a bit distant and... cold? well she wasn't one to speak much, but when she did, her voice was clean and open enough. Her Uniform, Astra Telepathica-style of course was very formfitting and easy enough to move around in.
Her hands where clasped together loosely and her gaze as quite deep and almost dangerously alluring.

[Sahaar]

"I'm just here to see Him," said Artho, gesturing to the statue.

"Did He hear you? I feel like we're going to need His help in the coming battle."

[Hemnon]

Cassandra smirked at that question.
"I highly doubt he either heard or answered me in any way. I'm a Psyker, not a saint. But it does me good to stay here in this sanctity... although the lack of people..." She said and trailed off, as if suddenly realizing she might be a bit too personal about the conversation. "But anyways, stay if you wish. I'll be here for the rest of the journey most likely."

Without really thinking about it, her mind had slowly wandered and begun to gently nudge at anyone's own minds who were nearby, like Harris or Artho.
Harris instantly threw her a sour and hard glance, his jaw looking like it was gonna chew itself off and a vein in his forehead was pulsing visibly.

[Sahaar]

Artho twitched uncomfortably.

"I might stay here for awhile myself. Everyone else is...I dunno what they're doing. My brother's probably sleeping, though."

He kneeled in a prayer stance.

"Normally I would pray, but I think we'll be getting plenty of that once we come out of transit."

[TheFallenSon]

‘HUP TWO THREE four. Hup two three four,’ Corporal Bloodletter yelled, keeping pace with the men of the latest punishment detail as they marched the dusty length of the hangar bay. ‘You call that marching? I’ve seen more order and discipline in a pack of ****house rats.’ Marching in time with the others, painfully aware of his own visibility, Dempsey found himself silently praying his feet kept in step. His place midway along the squads left outer file put him out in plain view right under his comrade's eye. The three day bender he and the rest of these boys had been on was amazing...this marching though. By the Emperor...he had no illusions about the beating he and the others would get if the hang-overs and withdrawals pulled them from ranks.

‘Keep your blasted feet up,’ the Corporal screamed. ‘You’re not shuffling in the dark tunnels of blessed Quatrain now, hunting for a piece of strange cuze, you degenerates! You are soldiers of the Imperial Guard, Emperor help us. Put some power into it.’ Then, seeing the Squad was nearly at the far edge of the hangar ground, Bloodletter yelled again, his voice strident and shrill with command. ‘Convicts. About face. And march.’

Turning smartly on his heel with the others, as they resumed marching Dempsey found himself feeling dog-tired and exhausted. So far
today, like each of the sixty days before it, Bloodletter had had them running at ship dawn. Then hours of marching, physical training, and live fire exercises. The original group of soldiers to be punished had numbered just over 20, it had been one hell of a party after all, now there were 8. Attrition had turned the others into the newest additions to the Servitor ranks. As Dempsey and the others neared the end of the 30th lap of the hangar, Bloodletter gave the command to fallout and seek their respective section leaders.

So, stumbling exhausted through the various passages he finds himself being pushed towards the Chapel by his old friend, the mean spirited Corporal. Neither speaks as they search for Sergeant Artho. Their friendship has become quite strained in recent months. They would enter quietly and wait for their leader to finish his talk with the new psyker.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra looked back over her shoulder at all that noise comming from outside the archway into the hallway outside.
"Excuse me, Sargeant, i think someone wants to talk with you..." She said and threw a steely glance back over at the newcomers.
With a sigh, she got to her feet and began to leave the chapel. She didn't want to stay there with all those Non-Gifted. Their minds were blunt and pale, unable to understand much at what was outside the adamantine plating all around them.... they would never understand unless they were unlucky enough...
She slowly and quite gracefully began weaving her way out of the mass standing in the way, her Watcher Harris one single step behind her, scowling and ever-dull as always, sending warning glances to anyone who even THOUGHT about making a scene.
She accidentally bumped lightly into Dempsey as she moved past, so she halted for a second, gave a light bow of her head and said: "excuse me." before turning back around, heading off with hips swaying and slender legs gliding through the small mass of people, her body following along just so, sidestepping any problems or hinderences.

[Sahaar]

Artho turned and watched Cassandra leave.

"Yes, Corporal? What is it?"

[TheFallenSon]

Private Convict Rainor's eyes widened at the sight of the new psyker, then his eyes followed her in a most un-gentlemanly fashion as she bumped passed him and the Corporal. "You can bump into me anytime madam, anytime at all." He smirked, the kind that the majority of the 201st had mastered in the womb it would seem. A knowing and slightly dangerous thing...and lets just say, his mind wandered, just for a second, for Cassandra's benefit of course.

For the blatant crassness, Corporal Bloodletter rewarded Dempsey with a punch in the stomach that saw him doubled over. 'I brought this fool to receive additional orders, the rest of punishment detail 00124 has been released to their squad commands. Besides his momentary lapse just now, Convict-Private Rainor has proven himself quite resilient.'

Dempsey smiled up from the ground, wheezing just a bit. 'It is my honor to serve, Corporal'.

[Sahaar]

"Orders"? Artho looks around and shrugs.

"Pray for the Emperor's protection, that's all I can say. We're being reassigned to Greenskin duty, so I hope you like the colour green. Pray for accuracy and big explosions, because we're going to need a lot of them."

[Hemnon]

Cassandra threw a half-glance over her shoulder at the fella she'd bumped into, a half-amused expression on her face, and with a mental thought, gently brushed her own mind against the Private's trying to indicate that she's not some prize-cow... you need not be a Telepath, which she was, amongst other things, to know what Dempsey was thinking... although it wasn't something she was used to. It was usually hateful stares or cringing when she neared someone... so just for good measure her mental prodding turned into a sort of weight, telling Dempsy the following: DOWN BOY, as if it was a domesticated Canine with too much hormones running wild.
With a swirl of cloth-folds, Cassandra went off towards yet another Chapel, hoping that THIS one would remain free of interruptions like Dempsey or the rest of those Blunted Criminals. *Sigh*, she went and then steeled her thoughts once more until reaching one such Chapel, occupied or no, she'd enter and return to her Praying and meditation.

[TheFallenSon]

Cassandra threw a half-glance over her shoulder at the fella she'd bumped into, a half-amused expression on her face, and with a mental thought, gently brushed her own mind against the Private's trying to indicate that she's not some prize-cow... you need not be a Telepath, which she was, amongst other things, to know what Dempsey was thinking... although it wasn't something she was used to. It was usually hateful stares or cringing when she neared someone... so just for good measure her mental prodding turned into a sort of weight, telling Dempsy the following: DOWN BOY, as if it was a domesticated Canine with too much hormones running wild.
With a swirl of cloth-folds, Cassandra went off towards yet another Chapel, hoping that THIS one would remain free of interruptions like Dempsey or the rest of those Blunted Criminals. *Sigh*, she went and then steeled her thoughts once more until reaching one such Chapel, occupied or no, she'd enter and return to her Praying and meditation.

He felt her mind touch his as he lay doubled on the ground, his eyes flashed with fire for just a second, the briefest of seconds. Then the command...DOWN BOY...his breath caught in his throat before he replied to his non-com's his smirk widening as his mind raced. They would think it was because of the punch, but real power had compelled that breath from him. A small growl escaped his lips as he stood, wiping the smirk from his face as it crossed his lips. He would need to insure that she stayed among the breathing during this campaign. He also made a mental not to insure that their paths crossed again. He was going to start a game, but who would be the cat, and who the mouse. His smirk was back...but quickly dissipated. Not the appropriate place for these thoughts, right?


'Understood, Sergeant. If you have no further need...I will allow the private personal time while I attend to my gear.' The corporal stood ready as always to put his own needs to rest, Dempsey however, said several expletive laced prayers to the big man in gold inside the chapel that he be allowed to eat in the next few hours. He also hoped to see to his own gear, and maybe drum up some trouble with the rest of his mates. He wandered where they were anyway. Katya was probably running again, maybe he could help her with her Ripper? Or maybe the Ratman needed help with that still...yeah. That sounded like a plan. Ol' Aleksandr may have been new to the group, but if he could start producing some quality Amasec...well, hell he might be more popular than Dempsey before the war started.

[Sahaar]

"Very well. Keeping your weapon maintained is probably a good idea. The last thing we need is an angry Machine Spirit with a Greenskin horde bearing down on us."

Artho starts away, but stops and faces his men again.

"And try not to harass the psyker. If there's one thing we need less than weapons failure, it's a stressed Psyker tearing a rift to some Throne-forsaken dimension with a Greenskin horde bearing down on us. Thank you."

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr Willowfield threaded his way through the hallways of the ship, striving to avoid eye contact with anyone, the copper coil tucked into his closed medical kit, carefully picking his way through the foot traffic. He passed the new Psyker, admiring her walks, muttering to himself "I hate to see her leave, but I love to watch her go." He snapped out of his reverie, hoping she couldn't read his mind. Whistling tunelessly, he walked the rest of the way to the medical bay, closing the door behind him. With the door shut and locked, he moved over to an air vent, giving the screws a half turn and hiding the coil therein, securing it with a couple pieces of medical tape before closing up the vent again. With a sigh of relief, he unlocked the med-bay door and waits for "afternoon" sick call.

[TheFallenSon]

Both men snap of quick salutes and go their separate ways as they exit the chapel. The bluster filled corporal off to ruin some other poor guardsman's day, and Dempsey to find doc.

As fate/destiny/the Emperor would have it, he caught a glimpse of the man on his way to the med-bay. He called after him, but his voice would be lost in the ships noise, so he would hurry after him. Finding the med-bay's doors locked, he would use his best imitation of an Ogryn and knock on the door like a maniac. "I need some fix for owwies. OPEN DOOR AND FIX OWWIES!!!"

[Wyndeward]

Both men snap of quick salutes and go their separate ways as they exit the chapel. The bluster filled corporal off to ruin some other poor guardsman's day, and Dempsey to find doc.

As fate/destiny/the Emperor would have it, he caught a glimpse of the man on his way to the med-bay. He called after him, but his voice would be lost in the ships noise, so he would hurry after him. Finding the med-bay's doors locked, he would use his best imitation of an Ogryn and knock on the door like a maniac. "I need some fix for owwies. OPEN DOOR AND FIX OWWIES!!!"

Aleksander open the door with a smirk "And what can I do for you this fine day, Dempsey? Aleksandr paused, noticing his patient was out of breath and a little hunched over. "Been wising off to Corporal Blood-letter again? Aleksandr sighed. Bloodletter was good / bad for business -- he kept the med bay busy, but was a serious down-check on the more recreational opportunities that the med-bay allowed for. "Pull the shirt and let me count your ribs -- make sure his surliness didn't break anything important."

[blacklight101]

Walking down a corridor towards the barracks Izzy overheard the comment about upset Machine Spirits and made a quick reply. "As long as you keep getting Enginseers like me, those Machine Spirits shouldn't be an issue." A little cocky, but why not.

She was one of the handful assigned to the penal company for maintaining the revered Spirits and equipment, and she drifted between maintaining Basilisk and Russ and Chimera for them and the 45th on this trip, but those big Basilisks were her favorites. With just a little help from her servitor, Bruno, she could even lift one up with her Servo-arm.

Those autoguns though, such delicate mechanisms, and they broke so frequently with this low-grade ammo. At least fixing them filled the time nicely, there were always more coming in from the firing range every hour.

Returning to her quarters if she wasn't needed, she got ready to perform her daily cleaning rituals with her gear.

[TheFallenSon]

He stepped in stripping his top and wincing just a scoatch. 'He means well, he's just old school about discpline and all that jazz. Plus when he's done, I'll have cleansed the system and be ready for a new adventure in well meaning debauchery...right?' His body was mish mash of scars, burns, and discolored skin. The bruises are new, but those scars and burns speak of his life before the Guard. The life a drug runner can be hard on a young man.

He grinned again as his mind raced to new thoughts. 'How goes your new venture in enterprise?'

[Sahaar]

Artho sat in the hallway by the barracks, casually reading his manual. He obsessively checked the little white square that was marked "DO NOT DEFILE", making absolutely sure it wasn't.

He waved to the occasional fellow guardsman that walked by, but for the most part, he was alone.

[Wyndeward]

He stepped in stripping his top and wincing just a scoatch. 'He means well, he's just old school about discpline and all that jazz. Plus when he's done, I'll have cleansed the system and be ready for a new adventure in well meaning debauchery...right?' His body was mish mash of scars, burns, and discolored skin. The bruises are new, but those scars and burns speak of his life before the Guard. The life a drug runner can be hard on a young man.

He grinned again as his mind raced to new thoughts. 'How goes your new venture in enterprise?'

"Let us just say that a crucial component has fallen into place... Might be coming together, still need a pot and a place to stash it, but some of the harder parts are in hand." Aleksandr "counted" Dempsey's ribs. "Nothing broken, but damn doesn't he leave a mark." Aleksandr tossed a small packet to Dempsey containing a pair of pain-killers "A little something for the pain... What's the skuttlebutt -- still Greenskins??"

[TheFallenSon]

He ripped open the packet with his teeth and nodded as he tossed the pills into his mouth. 'Yeah, Sarge just told me and Ol' Bloodletter that it was Greenskins. He said we should pray for extra booms and more powerful las shots.' He chews the pills and chuckles a bit as his thoughts drift to other parts of that meeting. 'You lay eyes on the new Sanctioned Psyker?' He whistles, then finishes the pills and puts his shirt back on. Then walks about looking for a drink. Finds something he thinks is water and makes to sip it down.

[Wyndeward]

He ripped open the packet with his teeth and nodded as he tossed the pills into his mouth. 'Yeah, Sarge just told me and Ol' Bloodletter that it was Greenskins. He said we should pray for extra booms and more powerful las shots.' He chews the pills and chuckles a bit as his thoughts drift to other parts of that meeting. 'You lay eyes on the new Sanctioned Psyker?' He whistles, then finishes the pills and puts his shirt back on. Then walks about looking for a drink. Finds something he thinks is water and makes to sip it down.

"Yes... yes I have... Hadta remind myself that she could turn my brain inside out in a fit of pique... Hated to see her leave, but loved to watch her go, y'know?" Aleksandr gives a quick leering grin, then comes back around to business... "Greenskins... drek... and who, pray tell, is gonna man the furthest, most exposed fire-base in the whole of the campaign?" Aleksander shakes his head. "Better get cracking on the project -- even if it comes out rotgut, this greenskins drek will make it a popular drink."

[TheFallenSon]

'They die like everything else that breeds right? Can't be any worse than the Creepers back home, hell you can gut those if you get the drop on them. I heard they are all the size of Ogryns...that true?' The water was clean, cleaner here than the barracks for sure. He savored it, it really was good water. He paced a bit as they talked, his veins on fire being so close to so many fantastic stimulants and what not. He really was in the wrong field of work. Being a regular trooper was hard for a man with vices.

[Wyndeward]

'They die like everything else that breeds right? Can't be any worse than the Creepers back home, hell you can gut those if you get the drop on them. I heard they are all the size of Ogryns...that true?' The water was clean, cleaner here than the barracks for sure. He savored it, it really was good water. He paced a bit as they talked, his veins on fire being so close to so many fantastic stimulants and what not. He really was in the wrong field of work. Being a regular trooper was hard for a man with vices.

"Deuced if I know... never had the pleasure of fighting them up close. Hopefully, they blow to flinders like anyone or anything else." Aleksandr shook his head, then scribbled on a chit for a second. "Here -- a light duty chit... should keep Bloodletter off you for a while... leastwise if you keep your mouth shut, Dempsey."

[TheFallenSon]

He grins wicked for a sec. 'Yeah, we will see, the whole point is they off you and turn you into one of them zombies when your on punishment detail. Buuut you are the new doc, you got a say right? Right?'

He shakes Aleksandr's hand and moves to leave. He's headed back to check on the the squad's baby, their assigned basilisk was a beauty. He was pretty sure the Tech-priests were done doing their bit. Maybe he would drop by Izzy's quarters and get her to look at his Autogun, never hurts to have the Omnissiah bless your death dealing bits.

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey made his way to find his baby, it took him a bit to find the hangar holding his squad's death dealing device....but he found it. There it was, a giant piece of greenskin doom. 'How's it going baby girl?' he ran up to The Fist and gave the machine a small kiss as he moved around it. He checked a few things, made sure his gear was stored in the proper compartments. The Fist was an old beast, part of the first founding if the stories were true. She had been killing for a hot minute. He could smell the lingering scent of the incencse Izzy had used to bless the repairs and minstrations she had performed. He liked the smell, it meant the machine was ready to roll. It also reminded him he wanted his personal arms blessed, He gathered his Lasgun, kraks, Autogun, and respirator. Then tramped to the section of the ship devoted to his company and platoon...and specifically sought out the tech priests quarters.

He would find her quarters quickly enough, knocking on the door and waiting patiently. 'Convict Private Rainor here, I was wondering if you had a few seconds to give my gear a once over.'

[Wyndeward]

He grins wicked for a sec. 'Yeah, we will see, the whole point is they off you and turn you into one of them zombies when your on punishment detail. Buuut you are the new doc, you got a say right? Right?'

He shakes Aleksandr's hand and moves to leave. He's headed back to check on the the squad's baby, their assigned basilisk was a beauty. He was pretty sure the Tech-priests were done doing their bit. Maybe he would drop by Izzy's quarters and get her to look at his Autogun, never hurts to have the Omnissiah bless your death dealing bits.

"Not much of one -- Izzy probably has more pull on that front." Aleksandr shakes his hand and watches Dempsey go and waits for more patients.

[blacklight101]

Going through the last of the rituals for her rifle, she keys the door open as a pair of her mechadendrites snap the clip into place and rack the slide, respectively, as she cradles it almost lovingly in her hands.

"Rainor? Yeah, I can give your stuff a once-over and a quick blessing. This is some of that Omnissiah-blessed gear that needs the extra help too, from as many of these autoguns as I see."

Taking the proffered gear, Izzy efficiently field strips the autogun first, blessing and anointing with sacred oils as she goes- with the occasional burst of incense for good measure. The grenades are next, followed shortly by the lasgun. Quick prayers in binaric accomapny the entire affair. Reassembly is just as quick and efficient, but no less careful.

Finishing, she hands back Rainor's gear. ""Here you go, I hope they serve you well."

[TheFallenSon]

'You and me both sister! The scuttlebutt is we are gonna paste some greenskins, and if the past holds true that means those Cesarian turds are gonna lead them right to us, but Suzie Q', he hefts his Las Gun, 'And little Macharius here', slinging the autogun after he emphasizes its name, 'should splatter and burn plenty of green flesh before I let them touch the big gun.'

'So how many of those Russes have you been able to get up and running? Everyone in the company...hell the regiment...knows your the best damned adept on ship. I bet you have revamped a whole company all by yourself.' The small talk may seem light, but this slightly seasoned soldier really wanted to know how much armor was gonna be between him and that green tide. He was a good shot and all...but Orks...well they were Orks, at least that's what the old timers said. They were gonna need some real help.

[blacklight101]

"Far from the best, but thank you all the same. If the Magos over the hanger bays heard that, i'm sure he'd have something to say about it.

As for the Russ tanks? My dendrites have been all over quite a few, as have the rest of the Enginseers' especially after the Caesareans pulled their dren again. I can personally attest to fixing four."

Well, went over one completely herself and did quite a bit of work on three others, but confidence before a fight isnt a bad thing. Can't forget Bruno either, he was great for hauling engines back into place.

"The squad's Basilisk should be ready for combat as well, the other two adepts and I went over it quite thoroughly this morning.

I heard through the aether Aleksandr was looking for some parts. I may have found something he could use when I was working on a Russ earlier, the container may be a bit small. Only 4.372 liters usable capacity and it requires sterilization, but it is available if he needs it."

Since she wasnt too far machine yet, she could still actually smile, so she did as she finished. Emotions might be weakness, according to Admech dogma, but Izzy hoped the soldiers appreciated the effort. They must have been out of face-grilles the day she got her implants, hers were just her lungs and a small voicebox augmetic for binary speech. Hell, she still sounded moderately human, when it came down to it.

[TheFallenSon]

He cracked a huge grin and even guffawed. She went and acquired Doc's special container, this new squad had proven to be the best thing going lately. 'I believe he would very much appreciate it, after all we've only been trying to scrounge up these parts for several cycles.' His arm would move forward to clap her on the back and pull her into an akward sideways hug...because of those servo arms...ya know. 'Not only do you keep all this tech running, you go and make sure we will all be properly filled with fluids too.' He would favor her with another of his award winning smiles.

'You can give me that tank, I'll bring it right to him, hell...if you aren't busy you should come and deliver it with 'me.'

Regardless of her reply he would shake his head in disbelief and wink.'You should also go ahead and keep smiling. Keep helping out me and the boys and we might have to paint you on the side of a tank or three.'

[Sahaar]

Artho and Vin walked into the Techpriest quarters.

"Ho there, Priest Montoya," he said, knocking on the door. "How go the repairs? Is the ol' girl combat ready yet?"

[blacklight101]

"She could hit a bottle of amasec at nearly four clicks. You have no need to worry about performance in combat." Very matter-of-fact, but not impolite. "We looked over the Regiment's Holy Artillery very closely and gave them all the blessing of the Omnissiah, they should function well within acceptable limits."

These men were treating her like a Magos, this was unusual for them even if it was largely empty flattery. It almost felt like some real authority too, whether or not she had 7 direct superiors just within the Mechanicus.

Penal Legions did seem to be quite short on the Priesthood of Mars though, she had worked with quite a few more Techpriests in her quick posting before this one. Still, it was nice to feel moderately important now and then. The non-implanted parts of her brain were allowed to enjoy the thought for a moment; the cybernetic parts processed away about the best way to increase power yields on the Regiment's lasguns.

[Sahaar]

"That's good, 'cause we're fighting Greenskins. Those fething things are tough and I'm not going to settle for wounded."

Artho nodded in approval.

"I know you don't really need the approval of a grunt, but I appreciate what you're doing for us."


Vin nods in agreement. "Without you, our equipment would break down and we'd have to fight our wars with our fists and harsh language."

[blacklight101]

"Trying to make the partially augmetic girl blush are we? Maybe if more of my blood was, well, blood and I was of a more civilian disposition, I likely would be.

Omnissiah's work is never done though, I am just here to play my part in this grand game of Regicide."

All this work was cutting into her time tinkering, she hadn't had time to make those modifications to the few lasguns she had meant to. A few modifications to the stock, trigger, and sights weren't heresy, right? Nothing wrong with killing the enemies of the Imperium more efficiently, after all.

[TheFallenSon]

'Well, if you'll excuse me sarge, the priestess here asked me to bring some parts to the new doc down in med-bay. I'll just make my way there and let you two finish your updates and progress reports.' He would snap a salute to his boss, then bow a bit to the Tech, waggling his eyebrows in some sorta attempt to include her in his devious plots.

'Like I said earlier ma'am, you keep up the good work and me and the boys will need to rename a few of those Holy Artifacts after our favorite mechanicus representative!' Then stand and make his way as quickly as possible back to see Aleksandr, not waiting for any sorta reply.

[ArcturusV]

Enter gratuitous shower scene in the middle of an action/adventure story because, reasons.

Katya showered up after her run, with "Bane" nearby on watch, holding her discarded gear as she cleaned out the stench and relaxed the muscles after the long run. A great feeling, it helped keep her mind off being cooped up in this ship. Yeah, it was large by the standards of say, the average Hive, or even some of the ruins that she had holed up in back in Quatrain but...

... there was still the memories of a lifetime. With the Seepers you always needed a place to run. Nevermind the Necrons who just kept standing back up even after you shot them in the face several hundred times. She was used to having a place to run to when overwhelming firepower wasn't the working solution. The idea that there was nowhere to run to here, that if something happened, if a bunch of Seepers showed up or Necrons boarded the vessel, etc, there was nowhere to go was... troubling. She tried to keep her mind off it as much as possible but the bulkheads seemed less and less like protection from the Void and the Warp, and more like the walls of a trap closing in around her each and every day.

Toweling off she sighed heavily as she tried to get the running feeling of being trapped out of her head. "Bane" wasn't very helpful in this. The guy was silent and stoic as, well... all servitors who weren't massively malfunctioning tended to be. Still she tossed her towel over Bane's shoulder and took out her spare uniform, dressing up and taking a few moments to comb her hair back and make sure she was upright and touching on everything. No need to get a keyed up commander or Commissar on her case over the "Corruption" of unfit appearance.

She rolled her shoulders, still nervous, still wanting a place to be able to run to. There was a lot to do she knew. Work on the tanks, tending to the Basilisk, etc. But it all involved being side by side with people a lot more chipper and outgoing than her. A thought that was scarier than the idea of facing the Orks. Orks she knew. Orks she could handle. Random small talk while working over a Machine Spirit and trapped in close quarters? Now that was terrifying.

[TheFallenSon]

While marching his chipper and whistling behind back to the med-bay, Dempsey stopped by the barracks to drop of his newly polished and blessed autogun, Little Mach was lovingly placed in a rack beside his rack. He then rumaged through his kit back to find a pack of lho sticks. He figured he could burn one with Doc while they celebrated the birth of this still. As he finished he noticed Katya finishing her hair, and of course the ever present and unflinchingly awesome Bane...she had given that beast an appropriate name for sure. "Hey Rattsenberg, you wanna come and get a drink with me and Doc Willowfield? I think we still got a bit of the Mordian Dark and some of that crazy lichen beer the gangers like back home. I also got a few lho's to burn? Helluva a way to kill time before Corporal Bloodletter and Sergeant Artho start crushing the fun out of our lives to drop on the dirtball we're headed too.'

He thought about Lady Moore too, the psyker would be welcome company...so he tried something...he sent her "good vibrations" "come to the med-bay...drink with the troopers...kiss the Doc!" His face scrunched up like he had just stepped in servitor seepage as he forced those thoughts as far and as hard as he could.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra had begun feeling a major headache build up in her temples, and it would seem no amount of praying or calm meditation would aid her... So she did the only sensible thing she could think off: She went to the Med-bay.

Harris seemed as annoyed about everything as ever as he entered the Doc's Area Of Influence (aka. The Regimental Medical Designated Area) Firstly, with Cassandra walking inside right behind him.

Then came the horrid realization: There were a bunch of the Regiment's Troopers here... 'Urgh' She thought to herself as her head kept pounding away like some giant bell was being rung inside her head.

Without even announcing herself, no need really since everyone SHOULD be able to see her, and for that matter, Sense Harris' nasty mood, She went over to sit on one of those Medical-Beds with the clean plastic sheets and all sorts of arcane techequipment for medical uses~

She also caught the Whiff of burned ass... or more correctly, Burning lho-stick. She never liked the stuff. she prefered a nice glass of amasec instead, although who would be carrying around a bottle of that here?
Harris took up position about 1 meter from Cassandra, his Dour and boorish mood and expression was the only thing discernable about him.

[ArcturusV]

Katya froze in place, like a Grox caught in a spot light as Dempsey spoke to her. Slowly she pointed to herself as if to confirm that he was, in fact, talking to her. Not like any of her siblings, parents, nephews or nieces was around here... least that she knew of. The regiment was large though so you never knew. Glancing around she confirmed that yes, he must have been speaking to her.

It was a side of her that would probably have seemed strange from the usual as she kept her eyes cast down not meeting her fellow trooper's face. On the firing range the woman was a maniac hefting up that ripper gun like it was nothing and blasting away with intensity and maybe even a bit of glee. On her runs she seemed strong and confident, very controlled. But here, just coming out of the showers and being asked to socialize she seemed very uncertain as she shifted her weight from the left to the right, her left hand gripping her right upper arm.

Eventually after what seemed like an eternity to her, but was probably only about 5 seconds, she nodded. It was a hesitant nod, but still a nod. She stepped aside to let Dempsey lead on to the Med-Bay and would follow behind. And of course behind her, the looming misshapen bulk presence of "Bane".

[TheFallenSon]

He shook his head as he turned around, his grin stretching from ear to ear. She was a confusing sort, this Rattsenberg...a monster of a heavy weapons trooper, but acts like a shy teen if you get her away from her ripper and the range. He wondered what had turned her off of basic human contact, anyone who digs the company of a cyber-zombie over that of those with real thoughts...well that had to be a protection thing right? Not that he really complained, the two of them together, Bane and Katya, could pink mist an entire WAAGH! if you gave them enough ammo. He chuckled again as he thought of the death that he and Katya would most likely be dealing together as soon as they slammed dirtside. 'I'm glad you and Bane are coming to our little get together. We haven't seen you about in a while. Ready to fight the green horde?'

His mind wandered every now and then as they moved towards the regiments med area. He had already lit a lho-stick, and offered the pack back to her. Every now and then sending his thoughts to the aether and try and get the psyker to the med-bay. He put the word out too, he let the whole pack of animals he called "friends" know that they were gonna smoke and drink a bit near and in the med-bay.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 1:

The ship suddenly shudders, and the lights flicker, but nothing shuts down. As far as you can tell, this momentary disruption has done nothing to interrupt your journey through the Warp, but it most certainly doesn't feel right.

[ArcturusV]

Katya meekly shakes her head no at the offer of lho-sticks. She never touches the stuff herself, not that anyone ever figured out why she did, she wasn't forthcoming with any reason or story, she just always declined the offer and if she ever got assigned any by the quartermasters of the Munitorium just gave them away.

The thought of Greenskins did make her space out a bit as they walked. She didn't really fear them. Oh, she knew they were dangerous. She knew that if one of them got close to her that it could choppa her in half. She'd seen it a lot in her life. But he knew the greenskins. She knew how to take them down, mostly with vast amounts of heavy Ripper Gun fire. As dangerous as they were, it was at least a comforting and known danger compared to...

... the thought got cut off as the lights flickered and the ship rocked. With the reflexes of someone who lived in Techno-Australia she grabbed up her Lasgun from Bane, ducking into a crouch and sighting down both ends of the Corridor, making a spot check for any hostiles or unknowns.

... some might have considered that dangerous paranoia. Particularly newer arrivals to the regiment. Some who lived on Quatrain and had to deal with Creepers, the Eldar, and the Necrons recognized that as just healthy concern. Anytime something went unusual there was always a chance that it was one of them.

If nothing popped out, as seemed to be, and it was just paranoia on her part she lowered the lasgun from her shoulder and stood back up, frowning as she wondered if the trapped sensation of being on the ship was really wearing away at her sanity, or if something actually was going on. Either way, she didn't let go of her lasgun. It made her feel better, just in case. Her eyes kept flicking around, waiting and searching for whatever might have caused it. A Seeper coming out of the duct work and having damaged the Machine Spirits of the Ship? Eldar hiding in the shadows waiting with their cruel knives to take some slaves? Necrons slumbering amid the machines just waiting to activate? Something Throne blighted from the warp?

She let out a heavy sigh, trying to calm herself down.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra cries out, grasping her head as a searing pain spikes through her brain. She's screaming with pain as her mind reels away from Psychic Onslaught that hits her mental barriers, which luckily stays in place and fights off the worst of it all.

She's collapsed on the floor in the medical bay, curled up into a fetal position, frozen like that as some otherworldly psychic screech nearly made her pass out.... and then it was over... and she slowly relaxed.

Harris had been aiming his gun at her throughout all the event, in case something were to happen... but as she slowly stirred again, calm and just a bit groggy, he slowly began lowering his aim once again.

[Wyndeward]

Cassandra had begun feeling a major headache build up in her temples, and it would seem no amount of praying or calm meditation would aid her... So she did the only sensible thing she could think off: She went to the Med-bay.

Harris seemed as annoyed about everything as ever as he entered the Doc's Area Of Influence (aka. The Regimental Medical Designated Area) Firstly, with Cassandra walking inside right behind him.

Then came the horrid realization: There were a bunch of the Regiment's Troopers here... 'Urgh' She thought to herself as her head kept pounding away like some giant bell was being rung inside her head.

Without even announcing herself, no need really since everyone SHOULD be able to see her, and for that matter, Sense Harris' nasty mood, She went over to sit on one of those Medical-Beds with the clean plastic sheets and all sorts of arcane techequipment for medical uses~

She also caught the Whiff of burned ass... or more correctly, Burning lho-stick. She never liked the stuff. she prefered a nice glass of amasec instead, although who would be carrying around a bottle of that here?
Harris took up position about 1 meter from Cassandra, his Dour and boorish mood and expression was the only thing discernable about him.

ALeksandr came over glancing briefly at the new Psyker's minder and then turned to her. "What can I do for you?" he asked, careful to keep a civil thought in his head.

[Wyndeward]

Cassandra cries out, grasping her head as a searing pain spikes through her brain. She's screaming with pain as her mind reels away from Psychic Onslaught that hits her mental barriers, which luckily stays in place and fights off the worst of it all.

She's collapsed on the floor in the medical bay, curled up into a fetal position, frozen like that as some otherworldly psychic screech nearly made her pass out.... and then it was over... and she slowly relaxed.

Harris had been aiming his gun at her throughout all the event, in case something were to happen... but as she slowly stirred again, calm and just a bit groggy, he slowly began lowering his aim once again.

Aleksandr gently lifted Cassandra and laid her on the bed. "That sounded bad... is there anything I can do?"

[TheFallenSon]

That's right, I forgot you don't partake. My apologies for the offer. He grinned again as he pocketed his pack of regimental gold and continued down the hall. There would be a small group with them now, the hangers on that a pharmaceutical representative like himself could attract, well that and the promise of a good ol' Quatrainian rager. He loved that about his people. They loved a good shin dig, almost as much as they enjoyed killing xenos and each other.

Dempsey's Lasgun was up as quick as Katya's, his grin instantly turned to a grimace of sure purpose. He would scan the corridor with her, then make moves forward. Blasted warp, fething xeno, or even just touchy machine spirit...it really didn't matter. His blood was instantly up. It would take strong words to calm him down now. He took a long drag on his lit lho-stick as he made his way forward. He would use the regiments hand signs to signal for Katya and Bane to move with him. Silence...he hated silence.

His weapon wouldn't drop lower then his shoulder, till cooler heads ordered it otherwise. Until then, well. We will just see won't we.

[blacklight101]

As the lights flickered, Izzy quickly finished what she was doing and snatched her gun off the mag-clamp she had installed on Bruno's shoulder. Trying to think of what may have caused the flicker, she hoped it was just some Machine Spirits some guardsman had annoyed, but was pretty damn sure that wasn't the cause.

Only a few things could cause something like that during transit through the Warp and realspace, none of them anywhere near the good side of the spectrum. If that was a Geller Field fluctuation, things were about to get nasty.

[Hemnon]

Groaned a bit as her eyes opened and the sharp light of the Medical Ward, closing them again instantly for personal comfort. "Something for the headache would be good... Thank you..." She said, a bit distant.
"All those people.... the other ships... the unlucky ones...." She muttered, mostly just to herself as her thoughts returned to what had just happened and what she'd just 'seen'....

[Wyndeward]

Groaned a bit as her eyes opened and the sharp light of the Medical Ward, closing them again instantly for personal comfort. "Something for the headache would be good... Thank you..." She said, a bit distant.
"All those people.... the other ships... the unlucky ones...." She muttered, mostly just to herself as her thoughts returned to what had just happened and what she'd just 'seen'....

Aleksandr hurried about the Med Bay, pulling out several pills -- two painkillers and a "pick me up," along with a glass of water. "Here you go, just take these and sip the water." He wondered at her words, but waited for her to explain.

[Hemnon]

With squinting eyes and a slow rise to a sitting position, Cassandra took the pills and the glass of water and gulped it all down in one go, or at least the pills went down in one go.

She did not continue her minor mumble-rant though, instead she just relaxed back into the bed and closed her eyes, steeling herself against the pain all she could while the drugs did their job... and whatever the hell that 'pick-me-up' one did.

[ArcturusV]

It wasn't just her. Good. Good. Insanity was confirmed not to be the cause by the actions of others seeming reasonable and following suit. Katya kept her Lasgun ready, she followed after Dempsey. Everywhere her eyes went, her Lasgun was already pointing as she moved, constantly roving her aim and her eyes around on patrol.

"Bane" followed along as well, with a deep gravely voice saying, "Sentry Protocol Activated, Combat Ready, Free Fire Status On," having picked up the combat cues in those cogitator circuits from the actions of the humans, its own shambling muscle mass following the example of Katya's actions.

[Sahaar]

Artho runs into the medbay, panting.

"Did the rest of you feel that rumble? Is everyone okay?"

[Hemnon]

Cassandra was still bedridden, rubbing her temples, trying to remove her cranial-splitting headache... which even those drugs couldn't remove, because it was more than a simple headache caused by thickened blood, overstimulans of the optical nerve, bruising or anything else like that. The headache was induced by a near-overload on psychic energy that had coursed through her mind.

Harris was still keeping a close eye on her though, ever vigilant, as always.

[blacklight101]

Izzy knew whether or not it had been the Geller Field there was safety in numbers. She left her quarters to link up with her squad and ordered Bruno to stay close on her heels.

At least if she ran into a problem, the Regiment was there to help her out. She would do the same for them, criminal or not.

[Sahaar]

Artho notices the wounded Cassandra.

"Hey, Cassie! Are you alright?"

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey would lead his little group of troopers onward to the med-bay, they hadn't been overly far away as it was. Maybe a full minute of cautious movement would see them linked up with the majority of the squad. He turned around once, some of the fething chem addled convict soldiers following them had collided into each other, causing the sorta ruckuss that an ork in the middle of a blasted chem generator would have heard. He stared daggers at the offenders, his eyes full of enough hate to melt glass...they decided loudly...and with much cursing to go and find their own squads. Shaking his head, he would turn and continue to the med-bay.

Corporal Bloodletter made a quick time march to ensure that all those of note were accounted for, his path took him past Dempsey and Katya and on to the med-bay. After a brief head count he took off again. He had placed the onus of securing the Eginseer and her servitor upon himself. He moved like a wolf possessed. Ignoring all but the tech-priestess he sought.

[Hemnon]

Artho notices the wounded Cassandra.

"Hey, Cassie! Are you alright?"

Cassandra didn't respond rightaway, but did eventually open her eyes, straining against the light. "Yes, I'm okay... possibly a minor flicker in the Gellar-field coupled with a psychic attack of sorts... damn near made me pass out... urgh.." she groaned and returned to her prone position with closed eyes on that bed.

[Sahaar]

Artho nods and looks over to the doctor.

"Do you think our navigators are okay? If this happened to Cassie, then what about-?"

[blacklight101]

Gun at the low-ready position, Izzy and Bruno stalked down the corridor towards the medbay. She knew at least one other was headed that way since she told them about the the pot for the still. She just wanted to run across a trooper she knew, even if they weren't the most savory element out there, they were still better than psyker troubles.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 2: Introducing the Plot!
As you all gather near the medbay, a sudden influx of men and women practically rush the infirmary. Psykers are helped by their minders into beds to rest their poor minds, while some others are brought to the morgue in a relatively respectful manner. Your right honorable Colonel Damien is there, helping his primary seer stagger into medbay, and even Commissar Escobedo bears a couple of ailing psykers.
Over the ship's voxcaster, the ship's captain relays this:
"The whole fleet just got mauled by some Ork psychic attack, and everyone's been knocked off course but us. The Lord General's ordered me to press on, and I quote, 'to establish a foothold on Nebs III.' We'll be there in a couple of days with the way the Warp's just shifted, so you all should get yourselves ready."

The Colonel, Commissar, and all upper officers leave medbay at a dead run, shouting orders.

Your CO, one Lieutenant Sarlie, voxes directly to you: ]You hear the Colonel, let's go people! Everybody report to platoon HQ for briefing! Don't be surprised if our Corossian guests join us."

[Hemnon]

Cassandra wished she would have a few more days to recuperate herself, but duty called, as they say, so she got up from the med-bay bed, pushed the pain away the best she could and then went on to follow the rest of the Squad out to gear up and report for duty at whatever location that would be.

[blacklight101]

On the way to the medbay, Izzy processed the vox transmission and dropped her guard some, stowing her lasgun back on Bruno's mag-clamp. As the pair rounded the last corner, the CO had just started to tell people to report for briefing.

Falling into the back of the line starting to weave towards the briefing room, she just waited to hear the news that decided the course of their stay on this planet. It sounded as if the cadre of Techpriests on board was about to have quite the expanded workload.

"All the fighting and none of the glory. I bet the droptroops get all the credit again too." saying this quickly to Bruno (he's a great listener) and then a quick prayer in binary, she readied herself for a fight. "You ready for this, Bruno?" the servitor simply stared, very much a Marcel Marceau, this one.

[TheFallenSon]

'Ork Psykers?!?!?! Seems like I learn something new almost everyday.' He lowered his weapon, then slung it on his shoulder as he made his way to the Platoon HQ. This should be a fun briefing. Corporal Bloodletter catches him enroute, chews his ass, socks him in the stomach for being so slow, then turns to enter the Briefing room with the rest of the squad. Dempsey would find a few like minded troopers and hang to the back of the brief, no need to get his panties in a knot over a fight a few days away. That was for the Non-Coms to sort out. The Corporal would attach himself to Sergeant Artho like a well meaning tick, he needed...wanted...desired...orders. He barked back several of the Convict Privates and tried to order the squad as best he could. He would herd Aubry's Lost into a semblance of a formation then tell them to stand ready.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra kept herself a certain distance from the rest of the Platoon-squad dealie, but close enough should the Sargeant or whomever need her for something. Harris was his usual self, even with all the bustling and hustling around he still managed to look slightly bored as well as annoyed, as if he wished he were anywhere but here right now.

[blacklight101]

Entering the back of the room, Izzy waited for the briefing to tell her the rest of the situation. They may be to the combat zone early, but it almost seemed like a great time for the Caesareans to show up late and steal the fortifications they spent days building. Those dren-hounds always got the pick and we always built the best, so it was an easy chioce who to frak in the end.

Time to deal with that when it happens, though, briefing was more important for right now. Standing room only, too. She gave a quick binary transmission to Bruno and he headed back to their quarters to do what servitors do best when they aren't working. Wait.

[Wyndeward]

Update 2: Introducing the Plot!
As you all gather near the medbay, a sudden influx of men and women practically rush the infirmary. Psykers are helped by their minders into beds to rest their poor minds, while some others are brought to the morgue in a relatively respectful manner. Your right honorable Colonel Damien is there, helping his primary seer stagger into medbay, and even Commissar Escobedo bears a couple of ailing psykers.
Over the ship's voxcaster, the ship's captain relays this:
"The whole fleet just got mauled by some Ork psychic attack, and everyone's been knocked off course but us. The Lord General's ordered me to press on, and I quote, 'to establish a foothold on Nebs III.' We'll be there in a couple of days with the way the Warp's just shifted, so you all should get yourselves ready."

The Colonel, Commissar, and all upper officers leave medbay at a dead run, shouting orders.

Your CO, one Lieutenant Sarlie, voxes directly to you: ]You hear the Colonel, let's go people! Everybody report to platoon HQ for briefing! Don't be surprised if our Corossian guests join us."

Aleksandr winced at the sudden influx of patients and dug into work, dispensing pain-killers and mild-stimulants to the impacted psykers.

[ArcturusV]

With the situation explained, and the standing down of all that was happening with the announcements Katya seemed... ill at ease. She spent a life among the various xenos, fighting them for survival between the odd duties given by the Adeptus Mechanicus. Tales of Ork Witches were not exactly unheard of. Their violent and brutal powers, often blowing themselves up. Diverting fleets though seemed... something else. The only tales of such things that came to mind were things like the epic of the Storm of the Emperor's Wrath, where the War of Sebastion Thor was decided by a single dropping of a Warp Storm upon the fleets of Goge Vandire while they were in transit.

She didn't know the particulars of how it worked out or anything, just the base details of the War as related by her family and her Regimental Schooling in Warfare. It was after all, a major event in the Imperium's history of warfare, right up there with the crusade of Solar Maccharius.

To compare the base Xenos with an event on the scale of the Emperor's divine power was... something that made her face pale and her eyes look down towards her Lasgun, feeling in this moment a sense of inadequacy and a true sense of just how vast and terrible the galaxy really was. There was a confidence in the fights of the homeworld. Terrifying, yes. Against enemies ever evolving with their odd "Kunning" and Eldar Witchery or Heretekal Weaponry. But there was a simplicity and expectation to it. In the end humans were just as tough, just as technologically advanced, just as Cunning, just as Savage. It felt equal. A good soldier with a good weapon could dish out as good as the Xenos gave.

... this felt like something else entirely.

To the outward observer it seemed like she was just staring down at her lasgun quietly, lost in her own thoughts. No view of any deeper fear than the fear she might normally display at sudden reveals. She eventually conducted the Rites of the Lasgun, appeasing her machine spirit and letting it Rest before throwing it over her shoulder, hanging by a strap.

She slowly made her way towards the briefing. Not slacking enough that the Brass would take special notice, but taking time to reflect on things as she walked with "Bane". Beachhead operations. It wasn't something she was intimately familiar with, not really an experience she could draw upon from Quatrain either, the formulas there for handling Orks wouldn't apply to that situation.

Calm. Think what Grandpa said. Assess Resources. Two regiments. She knew what the Indentured could bring to the fray, but little about the capability of the Armored Regiment with them beyond what little she knew from her Guardsman Training. Two regiments specialized in long ranged support fire against the Orks, which she knew to be short ranged mauler enemies who liked to get close and personal.

She glanced over to the Ripper Gun that "Bane" was lugging around for her. It had the punch to deal with Orks from her experience, but excelled at ranges she didn't want to be at with Orks. Other solutions necessary. Seek out specialist ammo to compensate for the enemy, Solid Slugs for increased damage to deal with the Ork Physiology or Tracer Rounds to help the Machine Spirits get more hits.

But the larger picture, that was what Grandpa said to focus on. Beachhead... that meant clearing a region for further operations. Defensive measures and offensive measures required. Firepower was needed for the initial assault, but then you had to hold it. What did she have to hold things... not much. That would have to be rectified.

It was as she was reaching this conclusion, that her feet finally brought her to the Platoon HQ, filtering in with a few others. Her mind already working on the tactical plan that was, frankly, above her Pay grade, but also part of her Legacy.

As a Heavy she's actually pretty good at some Lore Skills. I'm using this more for fluff purposes and how well her Tactical Plan/Lessons were remembered, though if the DM wants to give additional tips and hints off it... I won't be opposed.

She's going for the idea of what Gearing and Tactics will need to be adopted to deal with an Ork Threat while establishing a beachhead in hostile territory. As this is common stuff, second hand knowledge from her family history, etc:

Gearing Needed - Common Lore (War): [roll0] vs 36 Int, +10 Common Lore (War) Trained, and conditional modifiers will be accounted for in the complexity of her ideas and preparations.

Tactics Needed - Common Lore (War): [roll1] vs 36 Int, +10 Common Lore (War) Trained, and conditional modifiers will be accounted for in the complexity of her ideas and preparations.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 3: The Briefing
Two platoons are gathered in the conference room, with some of the more junior squaddies being pushed out into the hall since they failed to find a spot. The Corossians don't seem to be too bothered by the presence of the servitors, though they speak and move carefully around the four psykers in the room: Cassandra and three of her colleagues. Were the psykers not there, odds are they could have crammed both platoons in there, but the powerful beings command quite a bit of respect, which both groups are only too happy to grant.

Lieutenant Sarlie loads up a projector with a short swear and a loud smack, which projects a large map onto the wall of the room: "We're landing here, among a series of mountains on the south eastern continent. This world, according to all reports, is practically uninhabited but capable of sustaining large life. Expect big predators, but we won't have to call the Catachans to save Private Rainor again. These mountains are arranged in a nice circle, so we'll be able to watch all the entrances and use them to keep the Orks from rushing us. But, like volunteering for the Guard, there's always a catch. Captain Holkins?"


Oddly, the Captain isn't one of the rather tall Corossians, but rather a Ratling with an impressively baritone voice, "Certainly. This story about saving Private Rainor sounds most entertaining, you should tell it to me sometime. Unfortunately, we have no time for levity. The mountain range, which we have decided to call 'the Circle', is quite occupied by Orks. We'll be engaging in a considerable amount of offensive action before we'll own it. Much of the terrain is heavily forested, with other spots being more akin to a prairie of sorts. Our first objective is to secure what appears to be a cave network on an eastern mountain we're calling the Watch. It is most certainly occupied by the enemy, but by securing it we shall have a relatively safe position from which to sortie into the Circle. This is likely to be one of the most dangerous parts of the campaign: we will be engaging the Orks in close quarters. Your regiment is quite well equipped for this sort of work, but we Rams shall do our utmost to aid you in this endeavor."

Lieutenant Sarlie concluded with the tradition: "Any questions before we try to keep ourselves alive?"

[ArcturusV]

Katya had been silent so far in the short briefing. Not a surprise. She lingered near the back, not to be someone making snide or snarky comments or joking around during the briefing, but merely because she got there later on and didn't want to draw the attention that pushing through to be closer to the speakers would necessarily bring. She barely was aware that the Corossian leader was in fact a Ratman, only able to guess it was some form of Abhuman by the fact that she was having trouble seeing him over the heads and shoulders of other people crammed into the headquarters space. Her mind was quietly working, focusing on taking in the briefing so far and adding the details of the operation to the knowledge her Grandfather had imparted on the matter.

There was still so much to do. She chewed on her lower lip a bit, uncertain if she could actually get everything running through her mind accomplished before time was up. Her eyes were flicking back and forth as she quickly tried to hammer out all the details that she was pondering. It was also a struggle against her own nature. Knowing she had to speak up and take some control in matters soon, but her own mind rebelling at the idea of opening up, much less in such a crowded place, filled with so many diverse people, so many more that were so much more qualified than she was. She was just the gun lugger and cord puller, not some Tactical Genius like her ancestors before her, what right did she have to demand a voice in such matters? Did not an army work better when people knew they roles?

... but do they know what she knows?

Her face formed a slight frown and her brow furrowed. She easily made the sign of the Aquila before her and bowed towards the front of the room and the officers, bending one knee in a slightly more formal bow than one might expect from a world full of convicts and the children of convicts.

Maybe she should just handle things herself. Approach them privately afterwards if things were resolving well. There was no need to cause a ruckus if nothing was going to come of it.

[Sahaar]

Artho mutters to himself. Orks in close quarters, fantastic."

He looks around and eyes the men around him. A question came to his mind. He raised a hand.

"Sir, if the enemy strength is too overwhelming to secure the tunnels themselves, will we be authorized to collapse the network with demo charges?"

[Sir_Toast]

The Captain laughs quite loudly, "From my experience and understanding, we don't have authorization for anything! Still, try to keep our mountain intact, yes?"

Sarlie is a bit more circumspect, and replies, "We'd rather keep it, but I bet there's other entrances into it. You find any, block them."

[blacklight101]

Well, Izzy thought to herself, this should be an experience. Sealing up some of the tunnels is a great idea too, and we have the firepower to do it. Maybe we'll shell them from orbit just a little first.

[Sahaar]

Artho nods, satisfied, and stands at attention, awaiting further instruction.

"If it were up to me, I'd just blow the tunnels right off the bat," Vin whispers.

[ArcturusV]

Things seemed to be winding down. More talkative and rash members of the Regiment were popping off questions and concerns. There was some joking but it didn't look like any serious progress or information was really being relayed. She made sure there was no problem with leaving, inching towards the door, catching the eye of some higher officers to show that she was going to attend some pre-mission duties and getting a nod of approval before bolting.

She squirmed and wormed her way through the crowd of people crammed in, moving quickly, eager to get out of the throng of people who all smelled their own unique smells, shed heat, and generally lead to an uncomfortable atmosphere to be around for her. Of course having the large and brutish looking "Bane" following her did help open up avenues for her to get out, people closing in behind her as soon as "Bane" was past with his unreadable face and shambling mass.

Once she was free of the mass and in the open corridors she took a deep breath, savoring the change to clean, crisp air from the life sustainers and the cold metallic taste over the warm "fleshy" aura of so many people breathing and talking with the same air over and over. Might have just been her imagination, but she swore it was true. She felt a lot better outside of the crowd, and started slowing down as she pondered what she had to do.

... it'd have to be a multiple phased plan... It'd require some tangled webs...

First stop, a Munitorium Clerk she had come to know near the Rifle Range. Reynauld? Something like that. She knew him well enough in her estimation, often having to sign for rounds for the range with him. Reginald? Was that it? Romain? Hmm... better not open up with a name and get it wrong. She took a deep, slow breath, trying to calm herself down and run through the various permutations of the conversation before she got there, anticipating what the man might say and how to get what she wanted out of the Officer.

She rounded the corner, and there was the Cage and the man in question. Ah, the name plate in Low Gothic, "Steve". That was it! She took a deep breath as she drew up, put a smile on her face, and braced herself to try to get what she needed out of the man...

Some Logistics Tests with the Munitorium Adept:

Tracer Rounds for a Ripper Gun: [roll0] vs 10 Logistics, +20 due to Common Availability, +30 due to Total War Condition Modifiers as seen in the OOC, Total Mark of 60.
Box of Spent Ripper Gun Shell Casings: Automatic because, come on Abundant resource at a Weapon Range, Cartridges are normally Common and It think "used" and useless should bump it up two.
Fire Bomb Grenades: [roll1] vs 10 Logistics +30 due to Plentiful Availability, +30 due to Total War Condition Modifiers. Total Mark of 70.


She smiled and nodded getting a box of her supplies, handing over the proper forms as she had to fill out, there were always forms, and handing the crate over to "Bane" to carry, "Thank you kindly Sir Steve," she said softly and sounding quite heart felt before she turned to leave. Phase one, complete. Phase two? On the way...

She turned away from the Weapon Range, making quick progress down the ship corridors. She ran them regularly enough, she knew the deck platings as well as the Drill Course back home, and knew exactly where she was going. Not towards the parts of the ship normally assigned to the Imperial Guardsmen that were being carried upon the grand leviathan that was the Ship. She was rehearshing once more, knowing that this person she was looking for was quite different from... what was his name? Wilhelm? Warrenti? Whatever his name was that she just left behind. It required a different approach, very polished, very refined, cold, logical. This suited her well. It was in a way, a lot more comfortable than the small talk that she put up with from... Willix? There was always a sort of cold fear in her gut when she had to deal with him.

She finally reached her destination, kneeling before a great doorway, twisting her hands into the strange symbol she had seen them use before, something they called the "Cogwheel". Her head was bowed as a penitent, and as a small cybernetic device came down to peer upon her, a tentacle with what looked like a Pict-Capture on it, she spoke reverently, "A humble seeker of knowledge and the blessings of the Omnissiah comes looking for wisdom and aid," the words having the practiced refinement of ritual. A moment later the door opened, and the Mecha-Man in a Red Robe seemed to hover over the deck platings with her looking in awe at the miracles of the Omnissiah as appropriate.... Logic, remember, logical discussion, it was what the Tech-Priests valued. Well that and...

And some Logistics Tests with the Tech-Priest.

I trade in the Spent Ripper Shell Casings, they are marked by the variant pattern of the Quatrain Ripper Gun, new information to "bribe" the Tech-Priest, giving him a new technological marvel to study with the variation of the Machine Spirits and what it has accomplished. This results in him giving me a Data-Slate which Sir Toast knows what it is about due to PM shenanigans.

And tries to parlay the favor and some "shop talk" into getting the Tech-Priest to rubber stamp some gearing, another Data-Slate authorizing her for the Munitorium to release certain gear for her:
Light Carapace Armor: [roll2] vs 10 Logistics, Rare Item is -10, War Condition Modifiers is +30, target mark of 30.
Photo-Visor/Contacts: [roll3] vs 10 Logistics, Scarce is +0, War Condition Modifiers is +30, target mark of 40.
Amasec for its "Bio-Mechanical Properties", as she puts it with logic, for while it can be consumed it is also highly valuable both for maintenance rites and medicinal use: [roll4] vs 10 Logistics, +10 for "contraband" as I doubt that the guard wants us all boozed up, Scarce is +0, War Condition Modifiers is +30, target mark of 50.


Thanking the Tech-Priest for his boundless wisdom the infinite blessings of the Omnissiah she backs out of his room, the door slamming shut, as she carries her new finds with her towards her next destination. This time again, avoiding the Imperial Guard segment of the ship, but instead moving towards the outer hull of the ship. She nodded, bowed, flashed the Aquila/Cogwheel as appropriate to random passing crewmen, but it was clear that she was "on a mission" from having a Servitor shambling along behind her carrying a crate in its enhanced strength, the Data-Slates she held, and the purpose that she moved with. It was a subtle intimidation that made her look like she belonged, and perhaps was following someone's direct orders, giving her a sort of "immunity" from being hassled by Naval Security even outside of her assigned area.

This next stop was the one she dreaded the most. It was with figures she didn't know. She couldn't prepare for the conversation as she normally did with conversations. No idea where they'd go, or what they'd do. Only second hand tales about what their kind was normally like... it did not fill her with confidence. Things that had to be done in the name of Duty...

She opened the door to her destination, and a moment later heard a lot of hollers that made her cringe. It was going to be everything she dreaded...

As Sir Toast Knows, I turn in the first Data-Slate I know I got from the Tech-Priest to them. In return they give me a Data-Slate filled with some archaic looking knowledge and a few odd phrases.

She felt... dirty after that. There was something truly despicable about those sorts when she thought about it. She shivered regularly as she walked away. Even if she got what she was looking for she wondered just what trouble this was actually going to get her in afterwards. The things she did for her Regiment and in the name of the God-Emperor. It was only by focusing on that thought over and over that she was able to get through, it was all for the Regiment and the God-Emperor. She rather face down an entire WAAAAAGH! than deal with such cocky, slimy, loud, people over and over again. So damned full of themselves she was surprised they didn't think they were Saints.

Taking a series of deep breaths she headed back towards her own neck of the ship, back where Sanity was a more common commodity among the Indentured and the Rams. She almost looked back like her normal self when she got back towards the domain of the Indentured, feeling a lot better with the somewhat familiar corridors and comfort of known faces in the corridors. She didn't speak with anyone, letting them pass her by and shying out of their way when they were coming close. She had enough of People, she didn't want anyone near her at the moment, content with her private thoughts.

She had spoken more in the last hour than she had in the last 3 days. And it was more taxing to her than the harshest regimens that the Drill-Abbots could devise for her. As she got back towards the HQ she slumped against the bulkhead, looking across the corridor to an icon of the Aquila, flashing it one back as she emptied her mind into the simple faith and prayers of a humble Guardsman, glad to have the calming litanies and prayers of the Imperial Creed to rely upon.

... hopefully no one in the regiment missed her too much.

[Wyndeward]

"Armor and artillery in the mountains filled with Orks... I know the Emperor protects, but damn if we're not looking for trouble." Aleksandr packed his medical kit and made ready for the blood-bath to come. "On the up side, maybe there is fruit or something appropriate for use in the still. Orks and predators and close quarters combat." Eugen, his orderly, turned his head, "Don't blaspheme, sir./

[ArcturusV]

Her composure somewhat regained, she went past the Headquarters, a Data-Slate gripped in her hand, and looking for the Sargeant, Arthro. He was much more, personable, and would probably know what to do with this sort of thing. Once she found him in the dispersing crowd she gave a half wave, arm barely up to her shoulder to try to draw the attention of her NCO. Squeezing around people, shoulder leading the way, shying away from anyone that looked even close to possibly accidentally colliding with her, she made her way to the Sergeant.

Without a word, she held out the Data-Slate for the Sergeant, head bowed, and once he took it up, backed away and skedaddled out of there as fast as possible. There was still after all, a lot to do... and she didn't REALLY want to answer questions about it.

The Data-Slate contains a lot of information and standard Imperial boiler plate of official looking orders and requests. In particular what leaps to mind is a Vox-Channel, normally fleet issue and a few words of Imperial Naval Cant to be used.

On further through the document you can see that "someone" had apparently arranged for a squadron of Naval Pilots to be armed with Hellstrike Missiles, the Good Stuff from the Adeptus Mechanicus on the ship, for specific ground support for an upcoming planetary invasion, to be called in by the aforementioned Vox-Channel and Naval Cant.

Well there... now it was done. Katya felt a bit sick to the stomach. It wasn't fear that some Commissariat Officer would go bolter her in the brain pan, though that was in there if something went terribly, terribly wrong of course. But it was just the stress of actually doing all the running around, wheeling and dealing to get it all accomplished with so many strange characters.

Now? Now she was free to actually do what she wanted to do rather than what she needed to do. She was armed up as well as could be expected, she was a bit sad that her contact in the Adeptus Mechanicus couldn't spare her any protection from the Omnissiah... but it happens. He seemed a little twitchy and loathe to give someone with an explosive collar a work of art like Carapace Armor. Not that she really blamed him, at least she got SOMETHING out of it, more than she expected really. He seemed pretty excited and interested in the tales of the Manufactorums back home and the variant patterns of Quatrain. Tech-Priests... some of them were just relatively easy to deal with.

Still there was the nagging thoughts of her lessons coming back to her. A few more preparations to work. Some of it through official channels again, some of it... otherwise...

First stop, the Munitorium Adept near the Basilisk Hanger. She hardly ever was seen in company of... what was his name? Ymitilia? That person down at the Gunnery Range. Less likely to put together that she was double dipping until some Adept did a Regimental Accounting... probably 900 years after she was long turned to dust.

And thus, more Epic Paperwork. She was more business and formality, which suited her. The comfort of paperwork in Low Gothic was quite pleasant compared to all the stares and conversations and troubles of the last hour. She couldn't help but shudder as she sat down and kept filing out that damned paperwork until her hand had cramped up twice over, almost a twisted claw she doubted would ever heal if not for the pains of having done such paperwork so many times before.

Handing it over, she waited to see what the gal with the Gear would do for her...

Logistics Test with the Munitorium for some extra gear we won't get... also giving her knife up for the mission here for the Mission Assignment Gear, very "by the books".

9-70 Entrenching Tool: Base Logistics of 10, Multiple Regiments and Plentiful for +30, Battlefield Conditional Modifiers of +30, final Mark of 70.
Sandbags: Should be Automatic, it's bags. At the very least more plentiful than the tool I need to fill them, and the shovel is plentiful. :smallwink:
Accordion Wire: Base Logistics of 10, Multiple Regiments and Common for +20, Battlefield Conditional Modifiers of +30, final Mark of 60.

After all, they were expected to Clear AND Hold a place, such requisitions for standard defensive gearing should just seem... commonplace and lost in the shuffle of an expected operation. Waiting to find out what was going to happen, Katya pondered just how she was going to unwind after all of this... there was that...

It brought an almost creepy smile to her face as she planned her downtime, and how that might fall into the grander plans as well....

Next time in the serial drama of "Insanity... life in a volunteer guardsman unit".
... School of Hard Knocks!

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey smiled his familiar drek eating smile. Fething Chem addled adventures were his preferred mode of operation. He razzed any trooper back who gave him **** over his previous adventures in soldiering. It had been funny, and no one really missed that Psy-witch Miles anyway. He took it all in, though...great big beasties...green xenos, and a cave complex of death. They did realize that he and his boys were an Arty regiment right? He waited til the breifing ended, then began his recounting of the tale of Woe and utter awesomeness that involved the "Taming of a Carnifex" and his new title as King of the Grox. The vast majority of the Indentured loved the story, all except the Sarge and CPL, they hated the attention it had brought the squad. He had almost paid with his brain...servitor to the others...but his fellow troopers had spoken of how Emperor blessed he seemed to be most days, and gritted teeth when asked about his failings. So, he was allowed to live and serve his punishment detail. Now that Aleksandr had given him the sweet medical chit, he was even done with that bit of hardship. The story would inevitably end with the recounting of how brave Miles had been devoured by the chem produced tyranid hallucinations, how the brave Psyker had charged valiantly into the fray...and was never seen again. The crowd laughs, Dempsey laughs with them...and then decides to get back to the business at hand.

The acquisition of the much needed death dealing accouterments for this little adventure in Xenos slaying.

His first, and really only journey would take him to see his old pal Steve. Steve swore a very foul and 20 second long greeting as he saw his most and least favored customer approach. Steve was an enterprising sort, most straight-laced guardsmen didn't know he controlled access to vast network of black-marketeers. They populated the strange and often hard to reach parts of the ship, spaces between decks...shops among the structural reinforcing girders of the hull, the cursed and 'sealed' series of barracks quarters that once fell to a demonic incursion...places like that.
The largest market though, the one that dealt with the greatest majority of hard to find items, and those items that would make a Commissar go white...well that market was actually below the range Steve ran. It was populated with deserters, mutants, and radicals of all sorts. The groovy and all together awesome group of people that only a Penal Legion could acquire as it moved from place to place.

After flashing Steve the hand sign, and handing over his Flak vest and a Krak grenade to gain entrance, Dempsey was led to the permanently locked officers latrine, and made entrance to the world below. Taking in the sights and sounds, drawing a deep breath to taste air tainted with smells from a 100 different worlds, Dempsey sighed. 'You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. Thank you for all you do Steve...thank you.'

He made his way to his "best mates" stall, a disgraced tech adept addicted to the taste of Promethium laced with 'Slaught and Spook...he was a trippy sort to be around; but Dempsey considered Alyedicurs good people. They hardly spoke as they talked of long term plans and the trading gear and other things. Dempsey made a promise, he would bring the priest samples of all the flora and fauna he came across...Alyedicurs, not sure if Dempsey was real or not just nodded yes and sat back while the man perused his wares.


More Daka (regular bullets)
[roll0] vs 70

Special Daka (Man Stoppers)
[roll1] vs 40

Stun Grenades
[roll2] vs 60

Frag Grenades
[roll3] vs 60

Flak Armour full
[roll4] vs 40

Tube Charge multiples?
[roll5] vs 40

Demolitions Charge
[roll6] vs 40

Truncheon
[roll7] vs 70

Snare Mines
[roll8] vs 50

Entrenching Tool
[roll9] vs 70

Accordion Wire
[roll10] vs 60


and the crazy ones



light carapace armor
[roll11] vs 30

Infernus Shells
[roll12] vs 30



He would leave this dark place as quickly as he could, promising to come back to finish picking up all his newly acquired goods...now he just had to figure out how to smuggle back on all those plants and animal parts. Maybe he could sub some ork bits?

[blacklight101]

Calling in every favor, every offer of help, every bit of remwining goodwill among the Munitorum, Ad-Mech, and few Administratum functionaries, Izzy didn't have as much to draw on as she thought. At least she managed to scrounge an auspex, even if it was fairly beaten up.

Apparently the favors she earned didn't count towards firepower or armor, just assistance with work. It didn't matter, she was Mechanicus, she would just make it herself if she had to.

It looked an awful lot like she would have to.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksander made his way from the Med-Bay to Munitorium, muttering every step of the way, the profile of this mission seeming to be suicidal. What was needed was a plan -- something that would tip the odds in their favor. Lacking a plan, Aleksandr requested a kit appropriate to spotting targets for the Basilisk, along with some medical supplies.

Once there, he greeted Steve with a handshake and a smile, presenting him with a list of requests for the upcoming mission.


Field Sutures (Average) [roll0]
Grapnel and Line (Common) [roll1]
Syn Skin (Very Rare) [roll2]
Chameleonine Cloak (Rare) [roll3]
Clip Harness (Common) [roll4]
Hand-Held Targeter (Scarce) [roll5]

Looks like I missed on the Field Sutures, the Syn Skin and the Chameleonine Cloak...




Aleksander smile and accepted his pack.

[ArcturusV]

Katya had been off, doing Things after her paperwork, unwinding and doing quasi-illegal but wink wink, nudge nudge, stuff for the sake of more.

Click Here. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?398502-Katya-von-Rattsenberg-vs-Naval-Security-Storm-Trooper&p=18818047)

[Sahaar]

Artho made his way to the munitorum. He felt that this mission would definitely require more than what his soldiers had. He exchanged greetings with the quartermaster, trying to be as polite as possible. As much as he hated the obscene bureaucracy involved, he would rather spend the rest of his free time alone with munitorum officials than watch his squad get butchered by Orks.

"Greetings, good sir," he said, smiling sincerely. "I'm sure you've heard about the first mission we'll be going on in the coming days, and I was hoping you'd assist me in keeping my men alive. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could I perhaps requisition the following items?"

Artho pulled out a small notepad, on which he had crudely scrawled a list of items:


Flak Armour
[roll0]

If Flak armour unavailable, Flak Cloak
[roll1]

Additional Demo Charges (for collapsing tunnels)
[roll2]

Maybe a flamer for the squad?
[roll3]



He prayed he would be convincing enough.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra would approach the Squad's Sargeant right after her gravity-beatup to report her findings, so he could bring Her and/or the information back up the line of command if need be. "Excuse me, Sargeant... could i have a word with you? In Private?" She would ask, not wanting anything else to listen in, where ever it may be that she finds the Sargeant.

[Sahaar]

Artho turned to the Psyker.

"Yeah sure, lemme just finish here. Should only be a couple minutes."

[Hemnon]

Cassandra stood a little off from the sargeant and whomever he was with or what he was doing, awaiting for him to be able to talk in private.

Harris was doing his job as usual: dour, sour and annoyed, as usual.

[ArcturusV]

If she had known it would result in all of this... she never would have done it.

Katya walked through the corridors of the ship keenly aware that she was getting MUCH more attention than usual as she passed the Indentured area of the ship. Normally she got a bit of attention, but not much. A few nods of recognition, maybe someone saying Hello or asking about how things were on the Range. This was fine and suited her well, such short and social necessity conversations fit all she really needed for group contact. She was comfortable with it. And more than that, there was something liberating about that. No one here seemed to know or care what her name actually meant. She wasn't a descendent of "The Great General" or a potential heir to one of the clans on Quatrain. She had no legacy to live up to here. No one cared, most of them weren't from her clan to recognize it, and she never used her full name except on official forms.

It was the first time in her life where she didn't really feel like a disappointment to people. She wasn't letting down her Grandfather with her own inability to lead men. Nor held to an impossibly high standard that would have made the Adeptus Astartes go "by the Throne!". She just... finally had a chance to be who she was supposed to be and grow on her own.

... now that seemed to have all stopped.

As she made her way to the Med Bay to have her arm looked out word of what happened seemed to have spread ahead of her. A lot of people came to "Congratulate" her, patting her on the back, coming up and shaking her hand, gabbing loudly at her face.

It was a nightmare, she felt like she was drowning in the attention. Everywhere she went there was someone looking right at her, talking right at her, invading her personal space. She meekly nodded and accepted it as best as she could, eager to get along past them without appearing too rude to the people in her Regiment.

All she wanted was a chance to cut loose and let out some nervous energy. Now she had more than she started with. Her breath was catching as she started to panic as it felt like she was trapped in a mob. It wasn't REALLY that many, just 5 people talking around her, gathered close, asking for stories and the blow by blow from her, not really noticing her discomfort as they were all worked up in the pride of the moment.

She finally reached the med bay, opening the door, ducking in, and closing it quickly behind her, leaving them out in the corridor as she slid down the wall next to the door, collapsing in nervous energy, for the moment completely forgetting that she had come here to have her arm looked at after that wicked blow the Naval Armsman had delivered to her.

[Wyndeward]

If she had known it would result in all of this... she never would have done it.

Katya walked through the corridors of the ship keenly aware that she was getting MUCH more attention than usual as she passed the Indentured area of the ship. Normally she got a bit of attention, but not much. A few nods of recognition, maybe someone saying Hello or asking about how things were on the Range. This was fine and suited her well, such short and social necessity conversations fit all she really needed for group contact. She was comfortable with it. And more than that, there was something liberating about that. No one here seemed to know or care what her name actually meant. She wasn't a descendent of "The Great General" or a potential heir to one of the clans on Quatrain. She had no legacy to live up to here. No one cared, most of them weren't from her clan to recognize it, and she never used her full name except on official forms.

It was the first time in her life where she didn't really feel like a disappointment to people. She wasn't letting down her Grandfather with her own inability to lead men. Nor held to an impossibly high standard that would have made the Adeptus Astartes go "by the Throne!". She just... finally had a chance to be who she was supposed to be and grow on her own.

... now that seemed to have all stopped.

As she made her way to the Med Bay to have her arm looked out word of what happened seemed to have spread ahead of her. A lot of people came to "Congratulate" her, patting her on the back, coming up and shaking her hand, gabbing loudly at her face.

It was a nightmare, she felt like she was drowning in the attention. Everywhere she went there was someone looking right at her, talking right at her, invading her personal space. She meekly nodded and accepted it as best as she could, eager to get along past them without appearing too rude to the people in her Regiment.

All she wanted was a chance to cut loose and let out some nervous energy. Now she had more than she started with. Her breath was catching as she started to panic as it felt like she was trapped in a mob. It wasn't REALLY that many, just 5 people talking around her, gathered close, asking for stories and the blow by blow from her, not really noticing her discomfort as they were all worked up in the pride of the moment.

She finally reached the med bay, opening the door, ducking in, and closing it quickly behind her, leaving them out in the corridor as she slid down the wall next to the door, collapsing in nervous energy, for the moment completely forgetting that she had come here to have her arm looked at after that wicked blow the Naval Armsman had delivered to her.

Aleksandr turned to the door to see who had entered. Seeing Katya, he started to greet her, but stopped. "What in the name of the Golden Throne of Terra have been up to and what can I do to get you out of it??" Eugen winced at the casual invocation of the Master of Humanity, but made no comment. "What did you do to your arm??"

[ArcturusV]

Good, they hadn't heard yet. Or didn't care. Either way worked for her. She slowly caught her breath and got back up on her feet. She had seen worse wounds in her life, only counting as Lightly Wounded at the moment. But still, she is the Emperor's Property in the Guard now and it wouldn't do to go walking around untreated if it could be helped.

"... fight..." she said softly, not meeting the gaze of the Medic. Clearly it was a little more than that, considering she was walking around with a Hellgun on her. "... blunt instrument strike..." she clarified for the medic, not knowing what the Medic actually needed to know to treat a wound properly, which litanies he needed to utter maybe varying upon the cause of the wound itself or what humours needed to be rebalanced.

[Wyndeward]

Good, they hadn't heard yet. Or didn't care. Either way worked for her. She slowly caught her breath and got back up on her feet. She had seen worse wounds in her life, only counting as Lightly Wounded at the moment. But still, she is the Emperor's Property in the Guard now and it wouldn't do to go walking around untreated if it could be helped.

"... fight..." she said softly, not meeting the gaze of the Medic. Clearly it was a little more than that, considering she was walking around with a Hellgun on her. "... blunt instrument strike..." she clarified for the medic, not knowing what the Medic actually needed to know to treat a wound properly, which litanies he needed to utter maybe varying upon the cause of the wound itself or what humours needed to be rebalanced.

Aleksandr noted the lack of response to his questions and shrugged. If it were important, he'd get the skinny later, particularly considering the Hellgun she was carrying...

He salved the injury with an analgesic cream and bandaged it carefully. "Whatever you did, you can discuss it here freely -- doctor-patient privilege."

1d100

He prescribed several days worth of painkillers and a light duty chit, in light of her injuries, not that it would make a difference with the invasion coming up.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr noted the lack of response to his questions and shrugged. If it were important, he'd get the skinny later, particularly considering the Hellgun she was carrying...

He salved the injury with an analgesic cream and bandaged it carefully. "Whatever you did, you can discuss it here freely -- doctor-patient privilege."

[roll0]

He prescribed several days worth of painkillers and a light duty chit, in light of her injuries, not that it would make a difference with the invasion coming up.

*sigh*

[roll1]

Int of 49. Medicae +20. +30 for the Med-Bay.

[ArcturusV]

Katya winced a little as the wound was treated, not really feeling all that much better but trusting the medicae at least had the best possible work done. Only slightly concerned by the lack of proper appeals to the God-Emperor invoked during the process of healing. But she had heard some Medicae were not prone to calling upon the Emperor for anything but the gravest of wounds, don't want to poke him too much or something like that.

"... it's all the people..." Katya finally said as he finished up. "Or the ship. Something. Feel trapped and closed in. Nowhere to go. Always surrounded."

[Wyndeward]

Katya winced a little as the wound was treated, not really feeling all that much better but trusting the medicae at least had the best possible work done. Only slightly concerned by the lack of proper appeals to the God-Emperor invoked during the process of healing. But she had heard some Medicae were not prone to calling upon the Emperor for anything but the gravest of wounds, don't want to poke him too much or something like that.

"... it's all the people..." Katya finally said as he finished up. "Or the ship. Something. Feel trapped and closed in. Nowhere to go. Always surrounded."

Aleksandr scrunched up his face and thought about things for a moment, then went to the cabinet, pausing. HE then pulled out a small unlabeled pill bottle and gave it to Katya.

"Take one when you feel anxious... these should help."

[Sahaar]

Artho turned to Cassandra.

"Alright. I got what I wanted. What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

[Hemnon]

Artho turned to Cassandra.

"Alright. I got what I wanted. What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"I have just returned from my attempts at divinating our current mission... and it would seem that there's a high-ranked Ork Inside... or underneath a mountain. I am no strategist, but wouldn't taking out such a force balance in our favor, as well as eliminating and sort of chance for this Ork and his waaaagh!!!-band to flank us and whatever else you'd call it? I merely bring you this information, because i am unsure if it's worth brining up further in the chain of command..." Cassandra said, sounding a bit... well, shy and out of her comfortzone. She was wringing her fingers a bit out of nervousness, and her speech was a bit jumbled, but still quite clear and try-hard at remaining professional and calm.

[Sahaar]

Artho looks around and leans in.

"Truth be told, I think that's why we're going in. None of this "secure the tunnels" nonsense--why would we use tunnels? They're unmapped and easily collapsible, so why don't we just cave them in, right? I think they purposely gave us less information so noone would freak out. If all goes according to plan, we're going after that Boss, though."

[blacklight101]

Izzy finished up the last modifications to her weapons late that night, adding a red-dot sight and exterminator cartridge to her lasgun. She also managed to get her dendrites on an auspex and 9-70. She came up pretty light on equipment compared to some of the others, but she would make do. She was Mechanicus, dammit.

Not like she wouldn't be keeping everyone else's gear in order if they go wrong. Especially those fiddly little autoguns, delicate damn things that they are. Izzy still wanted one of the autoguns though, just with modifications to make it work better.

[ArcturusV]

Katya took the bottle with a look of obvious suspicion on her face. She rolled it over in her hand, peering at it as if the Doc had just handed her some Velocicobra and said "Use it as a Hat". Just the healthy suspicion and check on purity that years and traditions had bred. To the path of strange alchemy and easy fixes went the insidious touch of Heresy.

"What's is it?" she asked finally, after about 30 minutes of just studying the bottle.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 4: Assembling for Drop

A sudden alarm interrupts your daily routine, as the Colonel voxes out:

"Everyone assemble for drop! We're leaving in two hours!"


The squad assembles in the hangar bay. Quickly locating the servitor carrying their gear for the mission, they move to the Bassy. Suddenly, the servitor jerks and chucks everything into the Bassy, and a sudden boom signals the activation of a det charge and the subsequent destruction of your Basilisk. Every other team in the room looks in the general direction of the servitor as it continues to twitch uncontrollably.

[Wyndeward]

Katya took the bottle with a look of obvious suspicion on her face. She rolled it over in her hand, peering at it as if the Doc had just handed her some Velocicobra and said "Use it as a Hat". Just the healthy suspicion and check on purity that years and traditions had bred. To the path of strange alchemy and easy fixes went the insidious touch of Heresy.

"What's is it?" she asked finally, after about 30 minutes of just studying the bottle.

"A very mild traquilizer -- something to take the edge off of your anxiety." Aleksandr went to the sink to wash his hands when, suddenly, the drop orders began to blare through the ship!

"Looks like we'll discuss this at a later date! With that, Aleksandr gathered his kit and made his way to the bay.

[ArcturusV]

Katya actually pondered taking one of those pills as she saw the noble Machine Spirit of the Basilisk go up in a concussive blast due to the fumbling of a servitor. Her face was just pale and drained of all blood, her knees were shaking, and her jaw hanging open in a look of total and abject shock. She wasn't really an Omnissian like some she knew. But he appreciated a good Machine Spirit. She had been with that Basilisk since leaving Quatrain, it was as much a part of her Squad in her mind as anyone else, and seeing it just annihilated had as much impact on her as seeing any of her Squad Mates just annihilated in a massive fireball would.

She sank down to her knees and looked over the wreck, taking out that bottle of pills and downing one of them in a dry swallow. If anything counted as "Anxious" she was certain this was it.

[blacklight101]

When the order came through, Izzy finished gathering her gear. She stowed most of it on Bruno out of habit. All except her lasgun and knife, at least. Leaving her quarters, she and her servitor proceed towards to the hangar bay for deployment.

Bruno still tries to shake hands with a few people along the way, but he had a fairly quick-and-dirty mind-wipe and augmentation process. He only dropped something on the way once this time.

Assembled at the hangar bay with the regiment a few minutes later, Izzy was watching gear get stowed on their Basilisk, sure that the rituals she and the other Cogboys had done that morning would see that fine piece of machinery through the war they were about to fight.

Then it exploded.

Her first instinct was to duck, find cover, and bring her lasgun around on a target. It's just that there weren't any obvious targets to shoot, no focus to take revenge on for the loss of their big, beautiful Basilisk.

Izzy knew most of that vehicle by memory. she felt it's death keenly. She wanted to kill anyone that would do that to one of the Omnissiah's Holy Machines, let alone the one she was entrusted to watch over in battle.

Running towards a crate of munitions and crouching behind it, she brings her lasgun to her shoulder, drawinng a bead on the twitchy servitor.


Take cover
half action aim at servitor
delay action: wait for orders to fire or others to fire at it, then I will shoot.

Semi automatic fire [roll0] v.57 (+10 semi auto + 10 half aim+ 37 BS)
damage [roll1]
damage [roll2]
damage [roll3]

Bastard destroyed my artillery. I want to shoot him or whoever did it, servitor shall suffice if nobody else shows up to get shot at.

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey was smoking a lho with the CPL and a small gathering of other troopers. Then that world shattering, stomach jarring, organ pulping, reality warping, simply insane explosion happens on board. After dusting himself off from the instintual dive for cover, his lho bent and his eyes wider then archeotech saucer plates...he stared. He stared and stared and stared. His baby, his one true love, his big bitchy girl was gone...simply gone. That...I mean...how...it...was...not...how?

He stood there slack jawed trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do next, he was sure they would drop anyway...but now...now his beloved gun platform was gone...simply gone. After a few more seconds of this, he would saddle up to Priestess Montoya...wink and announce..."Well, once this little tiff in the tunnels is sorted...we will get to name our new Basilisk after you...right?'

Then realizing the shock of the whole thing had put his mind in that special place he reserved for nightmares about his childhood, and the real reason Psyker Miles disappeared....he picked up his auto gun and decided to help her end that obviously tainted servitor. His gun would bark out on semi auto as he stood and fired into that creepy zombie comrade bastard.

He wouldn't wait for a reply, he moved to where the corporal had run off to, he was kissing Sergeant Artho's ass already. He watched as his superiors reacted to this new calamity. It would be funnier than trying to figure out how to salvage this incredible beast of a problem.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr and Eugen double-timed it to the drop bay in response to the explosion, stopping immediately at the drop bay door and surveying the wreckage of the Basilisk and the twitchy servitor standing near the ruins and scanned for injured personnel.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra was blasted off of her feet from the blast, since she'd been standing a bit closer to it than the rest of them had, which had thusly resulted in her getting thrown to the ground by the concussive blast.

Harris ended up the same way, on the back and slightly shellshocked.

[Wyndeward]

Cassandra was blasted off of her feet from the blast, since she'd been standing a bit closer to it than the rest of them had, which had thusly resulted in her getting thrown to the ground by the concussive blast.

Harris ended up the same way, on the back and slightly shellshocked.

Aleksandr turned to Eugen. "Cover me -- I'm going to get to the psyker and her guard!" With Eugen proving overwatch, Aleksandr slowly and carefully advanced to the place where his squadmates had fallen.

[ArcturusV]

Eventually something kicked into Katya's mind as the Pew Pew Pew! of Lasgun fire went of and the smoldering wreck of the noble machine spirit of the Basilisk lay before her as a wreck. She slung her bag down off her shoulders, reaching through and rifling around until she pulled out her tool kit and belted it on. Next, running to the nearest Flame Killer Machine Spirit, grabbing up the red canister and coming back to the Basilisk, saying two quick prayers back to back.

"Savior Machine Spirit, Focus thy calm, and cool the rage," she said as she operated the Fire Extinguisher, trying to put out any promethium based fires that might be spawning out with the chemical spew of the safety device.

"Noble spirit, you shall be restored, hold thy fury, and let us soothe you," to the Basilisk as she finished putting out the flames, or at least smothering any potential for flames. She didn't care about the Servitor pot shotting. She was distraught, not enraged as the others were. And scrambling over the wreckage, looking for something to salvage from the Basilisk. A bit of Armor Plating or a cogitator to use as a bit of a charm and memory of the beast, or perhaps the Heavy Stubber or other items of immediate use, if at all possible. She waved over "Bane", having the superior strength of the Servitor help her in the quick operation to salvage whatever she could.

Well, there's not actually a mechanic for putting out a vehicle fire other than the mechanics in the Operator Comrade Advance. And that just says Full Action to end any Fire.

Salvage would probably be a Trade (Technomat) Test since that skill is about salvage and repair of items after all. As such, A Trade (Technomat) Test just in case you want to use it:

Trade (Technomat): [roll0] vs 36 Int, Trained in Skill, Final Mark before Conditional Modifiers for Test Difficulty: 36.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 5: The Passing of the Bassy
Bane and Katya sift through the wreckage, searching for something, anything, but in vain. Her mind too sorrowed for a real search, Katya just sort of picked through the ruins, not really paying attention.


The Techpriestess and her timely reinforcement open fire on the malfunctioning servitor. Though only one round from Dempsey lands, the servitors twitches its last and shuts down. Regimental Techpriests rush over and immediately remove its limbs, promising to look into the problem and investigate the cause. A couple more start the salvage process, taking the fire extinguisher from Katya and looking for anything immediately useful or reusable.

Several of your fellow artillerymen and a few of the Corossians offer condolences, and a few drinks.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr knelt by the fallen psyker and her "companion," helping them sit up and checking them over for injuries. With the servitor dead, he motioned for Eugen to join him in aiding the two back to their feet. "How many fingers am I holding up??" he asked, holding up three fingers.

[ArcturusV]

Katya let the Tech-Priest Enginseers take the fire extinguisher from her nerveless fingers, and get herded off the wreck of the Basilisk. In the back of her mind she couldn't help but feel that this had to be a sign from the God Emperor. A terrible, horrible, awful sign. Really what else could it be? Things like that don't just happen.

She absently got out another pill and downed it. Trying to calm herself down. She knew they'd still be sent out. Things like mishaps, a lack of materials, or broken gear never stopped the Armies of the Emperor. She was murmuring something very softly to herself as she picked up her bag again and headed off towards the drop ship in a soulless shuffling of her feet, seemingly unaware of the platitudes and offers from the fellow Indentured or the Corossians.


"This is the moment of truth. We will not fear, we will not falter. Man is Warlike and Proud. Our enemies face us to die. The Immortal Emperor is with us, and we are invincible. His soldiers will strike you down, his war machines will crush you under their treads, his guns will bring the very sky crashing down around you. He has given us his greatest weapon, the purity and adaptability of Man.

Where there is ten Xenos, there are ten Xenos. Where there are 10 men, there are ten different warriors of the God-Emperor. Each one different, each one unique, but all united in purpose. It is the greatest weapon the God-Emperor gives us.

We are the Imperial Guard, we are the shield of Humanity, we are the Hammer of the Emperor. That is all that matters."

[blacklight101]

After the servitor dropped, Izzy and Bruno ran to what remained of the big 'ol Basilisk. There wasn't much. She went over it as she was trained to, and a little more carefully even then since she thought of it as hers. Whether or not it was, she wanted to know what happened. There might be a clue somewhere in this mess.


[roll0] Tech-Use v. 61 (41 int+ 20 tech use)
can I figure out anything about what happened other than an explosion?

[Sahaar]

Artho and Vin slowly regained their footing after the explosion, looking around to assess the damage done.

"What the feth was that? AA fire?" A pause.

"Is everyone okay?"

Vin helps is brother up and points to Bassy. "I think we lost one of the robots."

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey slings his autogun, and snatches two flasks of amasec, drains them. His face flushes pretty nicely, then collects any other substance or condolence offered to him. For a guy who had just found some religion, this was bad...I mean he's still gonna smile and make tons of jokes...but damn that is crazy. Simply crazy. At least he avenged his baby. His journey to soak of the atta' boys and condolences would be circuitous and take him back to the squad area. He decided it was time to be busy, as busy as he could be. He picks up his gear and checks, checks, and rechecks all he can. This thing is nuts.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 6: The Drop

Despite losing one of their beloved Basilisks, the Regiment and their guests get themselves ready for drop, locking important gear down in the shuttles. The Quatrains go first, the Corossians following, so that the tough Leman Russes can lead the charge. As the squad boards their shuttle, they catch a glance of Captain Holkins carefully guiding a Vanquisher into the shuttle. Painted on the side is a caricature of the ratling captain riding a ram.

The flight down is rough, as your shuttles are peppered by inaccurate AA guns and intermittent strafing runs by Ork Fightas. Thankfully, your Navy flyboys manage to keep those Fightas off of you long enough for you to land, relatively intact. The initial assault is led by the Corossians and their Russes, with you Quatrains following behind.

The armor charge smashes apart whatever fixed defenses the Orks have, with the direct fire from the Basilisks scattering the survivors. Perfect… except for the part where you need to clear the mountain itself.

Lieutenant Sarlie sends Artho your orders: Secure Sections 210 through 215.

[Hemnon]

Aleksandr knelt by the fallen psyker and her "companion," helping them sit up and checking them over for injuries. With the servitor dead, he motioned for Eugen to join him in aiding the two back to their feet. "How many fingers am I holding up??" he asked, holding up three fingers.

"Ouch, uhh.... if i say 11, would you admit to being a mutant?? just kidding, um, 3 fingers out of regular 5." She replied, her joke falling rather deadpan.... mostly cuz she rarely if ever make them. She got to her feet and winced as the touched a small bump on her head, but quickly regain her composure and stature.

[ArcturusV]

On the way down Katya seemed to get a bit more control of herself. No longer avoiding people's eyes, nor catatonic or muttering weird catechisms. As the shuttle hit ground she awoke the spirit of her lasgun, choosing it to start the hop into wider, more open terrain. The roar of the war machines seemed to suggest they had the Orks sewn up, but she wasn't going to take a chance that some sneaky git might be lurking around, or ignore basic battlefield protocols. A stray bullet doesn't care if your side is trouncing the enemy after all.

As the landing ramp opens up she signals to "Bane", a short set of hand signals to instruct him that they were take an Assault Clear and Hold protocol. Weapons up and ready they moved out of the shuttle, immediately turning to the side away from the ramp, sighting downrange, scanning the situation as they knelt down and made sure it was relatively clear.

Not heading too much farther out, let the more eagle eyed troopers take point. As the heavy her position was behind the point to provide the heavy backup. It all made sense to her. Condition of the Operation? She looked over at the Basilisks, the angles they were firing at, and the positions of the Leman Russes to try to get a picture of how the battle was going and what areas were most likely most secure, and which areas were the most dangerous.

I'll call that a Common Lore (War), USE THOSE LORE MONKEY SKILLS! :smallwink:

Common Lore (War): [roll0] vs 36 Intelligence, +10 Trained. Baseline Mark of 46 before possible conditionals to the difficulty of the test.

[TheFallenSon]

He would follow Katya out, his las scanning for targets as he moved past her and Bane. Corporal Bloodletter followed him closely, and as Dempsey settled himself into a kneeling firing position, the CPL took point. Second in command, first to die...gotta love lateral promotions. Dempsey scanned his firing lane and stood jealous and in awe of the amount of devastation the combined might of the Russes and Bassys were unleashing. He would wait for the others to disembark before relaying Bloodletter's hand info that the landing area was relatively secure. He hoped they would be able to handle whatever it was that destiny threw their way. He muttered a quick prayer, and awaited the commands of his betters.

[Sahaar]

Artho and Vin follow the corporal out of the dropship, scanning the area.

"Orders from command," said Vin, tapping Artho. "We're to secure sections 210 through 215."

"Alone?" responded Artho, not looking away from the horizon.

"Looks that way, sergeant."

Artho sighed. "Alright, corporal, take us to section 210, it's just up ahead and off to the east."

[TheFallenSon]

Bloodletter nods, and waves the troops forward. They make their way towards the designated areas. Dempsey follows closely behind. Las-guns ready and up the soldiers move much more professionally than you would expect from a bunch of dirty convicts. The move wouldn't be continuous, occasionally the CPL would signal for a stop and wave a few troopers forward to scan through rougher terrain or the blasted remains of Ork constructions. Dempsey, luckily...unluckily...wouldn't be commanded forward very often. He and the corporal both had an inferno shell in their packs...it was hard to explain exactly he had come across them, but they were to good to leave behind. Maybe they would convince the Tech-Adept to tinker it into a bomb or booby trap. That or use it as a way to finagle something classy from one of the gun crews...either way, they had to be lugged about. Dempsey was left with one, and the CPL decided to carry the other, as they were heavier then all get out...they had to hold back when the terrain got a bit rough.

'Fething shells' Dempsey had been a constant stream of swears since they had disembarked. Ridiculous really. swearing some more he stared daggers into the back of the CPL's head. If he didn't like that old bastard so much...

[blacklight101]

Trailing towards the rear of the formation, lasgun at the ready, Izzy followed slightly behind the rest, taking the occasional potshot at a gretchin off to the side of the fight during the advance. The Russ tanks were cleaning up nicely though, and didn't leave many stray targets.

With the order to move up and secure territory, she got ready for a fight, hoping not to have to use her one-shot flamer. Or those big damned artillery shells Dempsey insisted on bringing. They would make for a good way to cover a retreat though, shells like that make one hell of an area-denial weapon.

She spots Artho and Vin and moves closer to them, working her way up the column. When she gets close, she palms off the shrapnel from the hangar bay from before the drop. She points out the tiger before she moves off again. The Sarge would know what to do with it, those NCO types always seem to.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr and Eugen tailed behind the formation, rifles at the ready and lugging the medical kit necessary for the unit. They moved in a low crouch, keeping low to avoid the shrapnel and blasted rock from the Russes and Basilisks. Both were missing the relative comfort and security their Basilisk would have provided as they advanced.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 7: Luck Shines Upon the Emperor's Guardsmen!

Izzy inquires after the disabled Basilisks, and is rewarded with extraordinarily good news (in light of the situation)! A couple of Techpriests come over and give over a Heavy Stubber, a spare Ripper Gun, and a Heavy Flamer. They're also carrying what looks like a jury rigged recoilless rifle a pair of artillery shells. They warn Izzy that it's quite dangerous, but a group of Techpriests are putting these together "just in case."


Treat the RCLR as a missile launcher firing artillery shells, dealing damage as an Earthshaker. Anyone firing it will require Heavy Weapons Training (SP), and need to brace. Anyone using it suffers -5 to their BS to hit, and it also carries the negative quality of Deactivate Safety Features: if the person carrying it suffers 4 DoF or more on a Movement Skill Test, the weapon will fire.

Remember: it's not heresy if a Techpriest does it.

[ArcturusV]

Katya looked over, seeing the "Recoiless Rifle" and hearing a short blurb about what it was. Her face split into a wide, sadistic, gleeful grin as she quietly said, "Oh by the sweet metal cogs of the Omnissiah's Mecha-Tentacles..." knowing that the power of an Earth Shaker, in a shoulder mounted weapon, was almost guaranteed going to go to her. Firepower that no Imperial Guardsman really experienced under the control of nothing but her own trigger finger, no Machine Spirits beyond the simple ones of Ignition to deal with, no targeting augurs or scanners... her mind could already picture just blasting apart Orkoids with it, and thus her smile.

[Sahaar]

"What is it, Kat? Keep your focus on the task at hand"

Artho looks over and also sees the jury-rigged railgun. Almost instantly, a wide smile forms on his face.

"Check it out, lads, the Martians managed to fix our Basilisk!"



[roll0]

[ArcturusV]

Katya came over, taking up the new invention and adding it to the gear load that was shared between "Bane" and her, giving the Machine Spirit of the new gun a loving little pat. Glorious. So glorious. Her spirits did indeed seem raised up, putting up her lasgun, and lugging the old Ripper Gun of hers, Trace Rounds loaded into the clip as she lugged it up and along with her Servitor charged towards the front of the lines, right along side Dempsey near the point.

"Come on, Xenos to smite!" she said with clear enthusiasm, ready to take the fight to the orks now that the machine spirit of their basilisk is with them once more. She hefted her Ripper Gun over her head, spinning it around with the ease of well practiced drill, before gesturing towards that hole in the mountain with it, breaking out into a light and easy jog towards it, fired up and ready to start the assault.

And along the way, quoting one of the less inspirational passages she knew, having it stuck in her mind and unable to recall the ones she actually wanted. A quote that came to mind as it also came from a Basilisk Crew.

"You consider yourselves soldiers? Having two arms, two legs, and a Lasgun does not make you a soldier! Soldiers must prove themselves. You are maggots, crawling gross in the Emperor's garden. This is a war, and such wars feed on Maggots. Do you want to be ork fodder? Make no mistake, these creatures eat maggots for breakfast! It is time to prove yourselves! It is time to goad destiny and die for the cause. Follow me, maggots, and prove yourselves soldiers, every last one of you!

~Commissar Haight, before the glorious charge of the Krogan 1st."

Rolled a Terrible Common Lore (Imperial Guard) of 91 vs a base of 56 in the OOC to pick an "Inspired" bit of lore to use to help focus herself and the squad. :smallbiggrin:

And I'm good to go to the mountain.

[TheFallenSon]

He couldn't believe it, those crazy martian bastards had found a way to save the Machine Spirit of his baby. His eyes misted up a bit as he looked at that beautiful, magnificent, gigantic death cannon. They were going to wreck those bastards today, the Orkoid scum were going to be destroyed by a man portable earthshaker...magical...simply magical. He shook his head and smiled, howling with all the fury his convict heart could muster. This was going to be glorious. They had 5 grids worth of area to conquer in the name of the Golden Throne...it would be done. He was ready, he was definitely ready for this fight.

He moved quickly to catch Katya and pass CPL Bloodletter, her quotes of ancient valor filling his heart to bursting as he belted out the old marching tune to take them to battle. To hell with protocol...today would be a good day to live, and to scourge this world of xeno filth. He expected them to all know this one. They would repeat every line after he belted it out. Then each sing their respective part of the chorus.

"I hear the bassys boomin'
The rounds whistlin' overhead
they are falling on the enemy
turning the mist to red"

(now half of you chorus)
Indentuuuuuuuuuured
Convicts, Convicts, we make them paste.

(at the same time the other half)
Blast the bastards, blast the bastards
Convicts, Convicts we make them paste.

"My buddies on the stubber
a choppa in his head
the medics swear his only wounded
but I know that he's Dead"

(now half of you chorus)
Indentuuuuuuuuuured
Convicts, Convicts, we make them paste.

(at the same time the other half)
Blast the bastards, blast the bastards
Convicts, Convicts we make them paste.

"I hear the bassy's boomin
The rounds whistlin' overhead
Now they fall amongst us
and the commissar is dead."

(now half of you chorus)
Indentuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuured
Convicts, Convicts, we make them paste.

(at the same time the other half)
Blast the bastards, blast the bastards
Convicts, Convicts we make them paste.

"The bassys have stopped a booming
The rounds are all but gone
It's time to charge the enemy
and stick him in his craw."

(now half of you chorus)
Indentuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuured
Convicts, Convicts, we make them paste.

(at the same time the other half)
Blast the bastards, blast the bastards
Convicts, Convicts we make them paste.

He called that cadence as he ran forward. Sure that all behind him would join in the song of death. It is time to take those caves. The battle would be an amazing and wonderful thing. They would clear them from top to bottom, then claim victory for the regiment. Let those tiger bastards show up, he would add a new verse as soon as he could. There are several more lines, and as long as no one stops him, they all come out.

[blacklight101]

With the glory of the Basilisk Reborn, Izzy's spirits were high and she found it impossible not to join in with the marching song. She wouldn't normally join in, but under the circumstances, she found no reason not to belt it out with the rest.

She will keep singing as long as the others do, the whole time, wandering through the file of her company, showing the shrapnel from their basilisk and vowing quiet revenge.


This is a piece of shrapnel from our Basilisk, I found it in the hangar bay after what happened. There is a tiger painted on part of it, almost certainly belonging to the Caesareans. Don't want to break the mood of the song, so showing it off very quietly. Let's save one of those big shells for that shiny new recoilless rifle for them.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 7: Down, down, down

Dempsey's perfectly clear voice and cadence, not actually good but working, rings out for the squad to hear. Artho's voxman flips a switch, and suddenly Dempsey is calling out a theme for the entire Regiment. As you head deeper into the mountain, the entire Regiment responds to Dempsey's calls, whether following you down or reinforcing your Corossian friends who have taken up the cadence as well. Suddenly the Techpriests start vocalizing a sort of brass band for him, a drum beat to march to. Morale seems to have reached a point that no one thought a Regiment from a penal colony would ever achieve: high spirits. Underneath this new esprit de corps is the underlying message: We are all convicts under threat of the same penalty: fail this mission and only death surely lies ahead.

The Colonel voxes out one final message for you: "Keep going, Mountain Men." and then the drumbeat hits one final bass, and the marching song ends.


Welcome, to the Mountain.

[blacklight101]

This is one of those times it was still nice to be low ranking within the Mechanicus, she was happy for the sake of being happy, rare as that should be among their number. Going into combat ot not, loss of- and regaining of a bit of- their Basilisk or not, Izzy was kinda pumped.

For a scant few seconds, she allowed herself not to care that there were orks, the other troopers, her duties, or anything far too serious on her mind. It was nice.

Soon enough though, the lot of them reached the mountain and it was back to business. Bruno's head was stuttering a bit as what was left of whatever humanity there was tried to look at his surroundings instead of just plodding along behind blankly like most of the others.

Izzy was going to hang back in the column a bit, she could fight, but she was there to fix the Machines and rig crazy stuff for the boys now and then. She was still ready for a fight though.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksander and Eugen straightened up and sang with gusto as they marched into the mountain, knowing that the real battle had yet to be met.

[ArcturusV]

Katya, as they get close to the Caves takes out her Magnoculars. Fitted with her Photo-contacts she could see through the darkness, whispering to herself, "In Brightest Day, in Blackest Night..." to invoke the spirits of the Machines and coax them into performing well. She scanned over the cave, looking for any Orkoids who thought they were being "ded sneaky" hiding in the cave, trusting in the darkness to hide them.

Off chance she does spot any Orkoids waiting to ambush them she would signal the Sergeant, relaying the target coordinate readouts form her Magnoculars so that the Sarge could pass the data on to a Leman Russ or Basilisk to shatter the world of the orkoids.

Fitted with her blinged out mask of Magnocularization, she continued on with the movement, keeping her eyes out and making sure her Ripper Gun was ready to rip, backing up Dempsey as he took point.

"I have some Fire Grenades, take one, it should prove useful," Katya told Dempsey before they got too far in. Offering the point man one of the grenades.

Most likely an awareness test, which is sad for me.

Awareness: [roll0] vs 28 Perception, Untrained for -20, No Penalties for Darkness, No Penalties for Distance because Gearing, Orks tend to be Hulking for a +10 to spot them, gives a final mark of 18 before conditional difficulties.

Firebomb Grenade handed off to Dempsey. (Range: SBx3m. Damage: 1d10+3 Energy, Pen 6, Blast (3), Flame).

[Sahaar]

"Alright everyone, eyes open and check your corners. Don't want any surprise attacks from big green xenos, you hear? No embarassing incidents."

Artho holds his lasgun up, looking carefully down the sights for anything that may be ahead.


[roll0]


He holds his fist up, signalling the group to stop.

"Alright, we're going to start planting demo charges. That way, if we get overrun, we can bug out and follow the breadcrumb trail of charges out of here, then collapse the place in on whatever filth we may encounter. Any volunteers to go first? It'll be a load off."

[TheFallenSon]

He accepted the fire bomb with his trademark crooked smile. "Ah, the smell of roasted grot will be filling the air soon my friends."He tossed it about before hooking it to his combat vest. Today was gonna be a good day. He just sorta felt it.

"We should drop some of that accordion wire first, I bet me and Tank Girl over here can rig up one hell of a no man's land sarge. Plenty of ork steaks sliced off as they charge, then we mop up the left overs. I figure we push in past the line of big guns and build it up there. Then we can even have them cover a retreat if necessary." He would gesture to Katya, insuring she understood she was Tank Girl. Then point to where he thought the battery would pause to lower the guns elevations. He was pretty sure most of those crews would be using earthshaker cannons as direct fire weapons before today was over, all the better. 132 mm shells provided some hellish cover fire on the withdraw.

He hefted his lasgun and waited for his orders. His demo charges were already prepped, they just needed to be dropped or planted. Hell, today, he might even try his luck at using one as a grenade of sorts.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra kept to herself while the others where going nuts over some homemade ubersized handgrenades and whatnot, still trying to shake off the aftereffects of that massive waro disturbance she felt earlier.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr and Eugen set down their medical supplies and started to lay out a emergency triage station behind the wire, at the mouth of the cave.

[Sir_Toast]

The squad begins moving into the depths, several people keeping a weather eye out for incoming Orks. Plans for razorwire laced escape routes and planted demo charges are laid, while a few members gaze lovingly (and perhaps longingly) at the improvised weaponry being toted by Katya. As your relatively carefree voices echo off of the tunnel walls down into the dark, something begins to echo back: high pitched voices, and one deeper one. You turn a corner into a small, circular space, to come face to face with a Runtherd and his flock of Gretchin!


The Runtherd immediately roars "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGH!" and points in your direction.
[roll0] vs. 46 Intimidate.

[Sahaar]

Artho's eyes widen as he turns the corner. "Feth! ORKS!"

[roll0]

[ArcturusV]

Katya went into a kneeling position as the Sarge called out Greenskins, bracing her ripper gun towards the direction of the "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" cry, and hoped that the rest of the Squad had done something for light or eyes, as she saw the little goobers perfectly well in the cave ((Presuming it isn't lit because... cave. And Orks being Orks probably just think they can see in darkness because they're the biggest and the best so they can, if it is lit, ignore me)). With the practiced ease that came from hours and hours on the range, Bane was down and helping her stabilize the Ripper gun, bracing it so that the holy Machine could bark out its fury full score at the Orkoids as she aimed downrange.

Just getting my stuff out of the way early if I can. Half Action, Brace, Half Action, Aim. Turn done. Comrade Orders are basically just stick with me, "Bane" can't really do anything else, so we remain in cohesion.

So I'm braced (And not taking a -30 to BS tests with the Ripper Gun) and Aimed for +10, and because the Ripper Gun is Accurate due to Variant Pattern, an extra +10.

[Wyndeward]

Back at the mouth of the cave network, Aleksandr perked up at the sound of the ork's bellow. In response, he placed himself behind the wire, aiming his lasgun into the cave, ready to cover any retreating allies.

[blacklight101]

Jogging behind some rocks for cover, Izzy pulls up her lasgun and takes aim. The first xeno around that corner was going to take an angry flashlight beam to the face.




Half action aim, half action delay until the orks are in range, then ill take my shot.

Attack [roll0] v.57 (37 bs+ 10 aim + 10 red dot sight)

Damage
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey would move up to position next to Katya and Bane, signaling for the others to move forward with him. He took a knee and trained his las gun as well as he could towards the tiny waagh to the front of them. Grots?!? He didn't intend to let a few of those tiny bastards to cut him up. His las-gun would bark three quick shots as CPL Bloodletter tried to pull of something similar. Hopefully they could drop a few of those tiny green pukes.


Attack [roll0] vs 59 (44+10 aim +5 ranged volley)

[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

Bloodletter is gonna let loose a blast of his own, taking a bit more time to aim...and perform a ranged volley.

[ArcturusV]

Seeing the scattering of Las fire off into the mass of Gretchin, the words of her Grandfather come back to her, and Katya yells at the squad, "Shoot the big ones!"

Since talking is a free action and all, and she felt the need to impart the wisdom of expert guardsmen from her lineage unto the others. After all, they wouldn't have told her that if it wasn't true, and seeing the Runtherd whip and scare the Gretchins into an assault it certainly seemed like there might be true wisdom behind that. Shoot the big ones, let the cowardly little ones break ranks without their "boss".

[Sir_Toast]

While the Runtherd roars: "Get da humies!", a couple of the smarter grots pull out ill concealed sluggas and open fire while moving closer, while the others rush the squad to try and close to melee.

Izzy's lasgun lances out a shot, hitting a Gretchin in its leg and severing the unfortunate limb. The little (compared to its boss) Ork hops around for a few moment screaming and firing its pistol wildly before expiring.


Runtherd already got his Intimidate to inspire the Gretchin, so here we go:
[roll0] vs. 44 (BS 34, +10 from Runtherd) (G1) vs. Artho
[roll1] vs. 48 (WS 18, +20 Charge, +10 from Runtherd) G4 vs. Dempsey
[roll2] vs. 48 (WS 18, +20 Charge, +10 from Runtherd) G6 vs. Izzy
G1 damage: [roll3]
G4 damage: [roll]1d5+1[roll]
G6 damage: [roll4]

[Sahaar]

The Gretchin's shot tears through Artho's helmet, raking across his cheek and leaving a horrendous wound.

Stumbling back a few steps, Artho cries out in pain, swearing revenge on the Greenskins.

[ArcturusV]

(( Ignore if Sir Toast Rules Otherwise, but for Expediency ))

Katya did follow her own advice, sighting down on the Runtherd as "Bane" raised his right arm, adding a scattering of fire as Katya had a wide grin on her face, anticipation heavy as she pulled the trigger and waited for hell to be unleashed upon the Runtherd. The Ripper Gun roared the life...

Katya takes a Full Auto Burst at the Runtherd with her Ripper Gun of Rippery!, Bane uses the Ranged Volley Comrade Order.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 32 Ballistics Skill, -10 for Full Auto Action, +10 for Half Action Aim, +10 from the Accurate Qualty, +10 from Short Range (Runtherd is at 15m as you said, just inside Short Range), +10 from the Scatter Quality at Short Range, +5 Ranged Volley Order, +5 for Tracer Ammunition. Final Test Mark of 72.

Due to Tracer Ammo on Full Auto I score an additional number of Degrees of Success equal to half my initial degrees of Success, rounded up.

Damage Rolls, used in order as needed:
[roll1] +10 Impact Damage
[roll2] +10 Impact Damage
[roll3] +10 Impact Damage
[roll4] +10 Impact Damage
[roll5] +10 Impact Damage
[roll6] +10 Impact Damage

37/43 Rounds Remaining in the Drum.

[Sir_Toast]

As Artho clutches his face and hisses out his pain, Katya stands tall before the Ork Runtherd and gives the foul greenskin a permanent lesson in why the 201st favors their giant shotguns. With the loss of their boss, the remaining five grots squeal in fear and run before the might of the squad, disappearing deep into the mountain.

Incoming voxes report victories all around for the Mountain Men, as the 201st demonstrate their considerable capability for close quarters combat. However, Captain Bjergsen's voice cuts off the cheering with a solemn reminder: "Just the first sector, folks. Get ready and push forward."

[blacklight101]

Izzy drops her aim as the grots run off. Easy round one with many more to come. She gets up from cover and moves out with the squad.

[ArcturusV]

Katya stands from her crouch, still lugging the Ripper Gun, and fitting her Respirator over her face. Xenos smell... plus she figured that Xenos Taint might pass over the broken bits of the Orkoid. Handing her Ripper Gun over to "Bane", she took out her Lasgun, aiming at the corpse of the Ork and firing into it, so that the energy beam might burn and consume the corpse, putting one more into the Grot that was felled before putting her Lasgun back, and taking the Ripper Gun from "Bane" once again.

Katya looked over to the squad, "The xenos are cowards, quick to flee when the largest of them is taken down. Focus your fire if you trust in the might of your weapon and the God-Emperor. Dangerous in melee, however their simple mindedness makes them hard to ward off with suppressive fire. Stay mobile and fall back as needed, engage them at range only," she echoed the words of her Grandfather. "Spotting is key, the Tech-Priestess and I should take point, as we are less hampered by the darkness, and more prone to spot them before being spotted."

All said in clinical, cold precision under the light of burning Xenos. Not to usurp the command of the Sergeant, but just recalling the old adage "Knowledge is power", and that the knowledge of the lore gleaned from countless centuries of soldiers could prove vital.

Lasgun is at 58/60 in the current clip.

[Sahaar]

Artho spits blood from his mouth, trying to keep calm.

"Do we have a medic around? That round hit pretty deep! Is everyone else okay?"

[TheFallenSon]

She made sense, he knew that, he just really enjoyed the act of fighting, hell part of him wanted to go truncheon to choppa with an orc, he would probably get his wish...which might not be so grand...but to the warp with it all. He was a soldier damn-it, and soldiers fight. Dempsey gestured the ladies forward, their was no gentlemen in this convict private at all. He and the CPL sat down while they waited for Alek to treat the sarge and talked tactics and fire options. It was decided that Dempsey would switch to his auto gun and load in his man stopper rounds. It wouldn't do for heavy trooper Katya to do all the slaying. Looking about he realized what a motley crew they were...it would almost make for a great vid show or something.

[Wyndeward]

Hearing the roar of the ripper gun, Aleksandr double-times it to the rest of the squad, leaving Eugen to mind the store.

Looking at Arthro, he mutters something about learning how to duck and start to treat the wound.

[roll0] against a 79 (49 +10 +20 (Int+skill+med-kit)

Aleksandr packs the wound with gauze, taping it into place.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra had secretly hoped that they all didn't end up having to fight.... well, SHE ended up not having to fight. so that was at least quite good.
Now that the first and, worst?, danger was over, she automatically distanced herself a little bit from the others.
She looked like she wanted to ask or say something, but she kept quiet about it and to herself, still not being overtly used to a group of people that actually liked having her around, and didn't secretly despise her.

[ArcturusV]

Katya remained silent, trying to figure out how to best use the lore she had recalled. Xenos Witchcraft... that was beyond the ken of a soldier like her. Set them to the flames, that was the extent of what she really knew about such things. She presumed however that their own resident Imperially Sanctioned Psyker knew of the threat, and how to detect and counteract it.

The more concerning thing was the idea of looted Imperial Technology, or Teleportation. She had no idea how to face off against such a thing. Well, Teleportation that is. Greenskins able to just appear out of thin air and disappear just as quickly. It promised to be a hard thing to fight. Imperial Technology, that was easier to rationalize. She knew them well, and the abilities and limitations of it.

Hmm...

Looting...

She looked back to the Tech-Priestess and frowned a bit as an idea was percolating.

"... maybe we should use the Cyclops, yes?" Katya asked Isabella. "Roll it out slowly in front of us. The Greenskins are fond of stealing our sacred technology. They might close in from their hiding holes to grab it... and then..." she smiled faintly as she trailed off. Katya never looked the Tech-Priestess in the eye. And if the Tech-Priestess didn't want to use the holy weapon in such a way, well, so be it. Katya would take point once more and keep marching on.

[blacklight101]

"How much of a bang you looking to make? A little bit to scavenge for explosives and we could take out quite a few of them. Should have about six or seven kilos in the squad not counting grenades or the basilisk shells." Izzy was intrigued, she liked making things explode. If those things were Orks, it just made it that much more fun.

[TheFallenSon]

"Bait tech? Interesting. Are the green skins really that stoopid? I mean, it practically screams "I'm a bomb!", but if you think we can score us some green mist out of the whole set up, lets fething rock that ****."In complete disregard for the dark, their situation, and common sense, Dempsey lights up a lho stick, letting it dangle from his lip as he speaks. He scanned about, ready for the death he and his mates would be dealing soon...well he, Katya, and Montoya at least. He had been wholly unimpressed with the others in that first little tussle, though he was crazy impressed with the Techies quick draw, she got off the first shot...what was that all about? Artho almost got brain pasted, and his com rat brother stood there like a bump on a log. Not that the Corporal had been much help either, he couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with his las. That left the sexy witch and the medic...oy vey.

He had also forgot how much he loved those damn ripper guns. He was gonna have to knick him one of those soon. That and more grenades. One could never have to many explosives, it was a mantra he lived by. "Hey Kat, you think you can cross train me on one of those big bastard shotguns? I'll be your kiss ass boot for a week, and I'll give you access to my personal cache of booms!"She was probably gonna say no, and chastise him for his lho stick, but damnit...a man needs to smoke every now and again.

[ArcturusV]

Katya fell silent, keeping her eyes down on her Ripper Gun as Dempsey spoke to her. There was a blank look on her face as if she was staring right through her ripper gun as the man made promises. It had struck her silent just as she had been about to answer the Tech-Priestess. She really didn't know how to deal with the attention. Yeah she kind of brought it on herself by squeaking up... but it didn't mean she was prepared for it.

She swallowed hard, closed her eyes for a moment, and looked back down the tunnel. There was a job to do. Focus on that, ignore the uncomfortableness coming from all the familiarity and people contact. Her boots crunched over some loose rock and she started to march on, pushing forward if the Tech-Priestess wasn't going to go with Operation Decoy, just a simple action to keep the squad on track and on pace for the operation.

[blacklight101]

"If your little idea works, will I be able to see the crater it makes? Not that it matters, I'll still run the decoy if it's our best plan for now, I just want to see it go off. Wait for the next group and let her rip?" Izzy just hoped she could rig the tamper switch properly so when the Big Bad Ork messed with it, it blew him to his respective Orky Gods. At least if she couldnt push the button herself.

If it was still in the tunnel when it went off, that blast would be magnified quite a lot too. She wondered idly if it would bring the mountain down on top of them- at least enough of it to matter.

[TheFallenSon]

"Man, those caves are darker than I thought, for some reason...I believed the damn xenos would have added lights or something. Fething Emperor's balls." Dempsey began a tirade of near heretical swearing that would make the most hardcore of guardsman blanch. Then...he had an idea. A wonderful brilliant gift from the Emperor. He dug out his personal glow globe and made his way to the cyclops vehicle, attempting to attach the thing as best he could. He would wedge it on if he had to.

"What if we taped the glow globes to the cyclops? We could totally have a light before us, and a light with us, that way...fewer surprises...hell we may even be able to draw them out if they really want that piece of rolling death, right?"

[blacklight101]

"Not a bad Idea, add mine to the Cyclops too, better coverage that way." Izzy tosses her glowglobe to Dempsey and fishes around in her pack for some tape, managing to find some pretty quickly and passing it off. She says a quick binaric prayer just to be safe, wouldn't want to upset the Machine Spirit after all.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra flinched at the sudden blasphemous curse from Dempsey... altough she remained quiet and ready, knowing the Orks might await them all just around the corner.

[Sahaar]

"If it'll stop your blaspheming," groans Artho, grimacing as his wounds are tended to. "I could do with less surprises."

[Sir_Toast]

The brightly lit Cyclops leads the way into the deep of the mountain. The squad follows behind in the shadows cast by its light, hoping take any foolish Orks by surprise. A few grots see the brightly lit machine, but turn and flee instead of trying to scavenge it. The passage through the rest of Sector 210 passes without incident.

The squad is now in Sector 211. Occasionally you hear some vox chatter from the other Mountain Men as they engage and eliminate Orks or lose mates to death or injury from return fire and the melee talent of your greenskinned foe.

[ArcturusV]

Katya stays on point, well... technically Point was actually the noble and volatile Machine Spirit of the Cyclops, but people know what I mean. Her eyes were constantly moving, her mind going over the rules for Scouting within the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting primer. How to check her sight lines, check for traps and ambushes, particularly where the Grots had been hiding and leaving, not trusting that they all cleared out until she saw it with her own Dark Seeing Eyes.

It was a quiet run, sure the enemy could see the cyclops coming, though it seemed unusual for the brutish, war prone, foightan Ork Boyz not to be coming out and looking for a fight. Surely with all of the Grots that had fled before them at this point the Boyz had to know that they were coming. Clearly from the traffic coming over the Sarge's Vox, other squads were encountering heavy resistance.

Her boots kept crunching over loose dirt and gravel beneath her as she marched forward. "Bane" a quiet shadow following along her, both of them lugging their heavy weapons, ready to unleash DOOM! at the first sign of the enemy. She idly wondered if the Orks were looking to challenge her. Letting her in so some champion of the Orkoids could try to one on one her or otherwise isolate the squad from the offensive for some fell purpose.

They already felt very isolated, without their Basilisk, hearing the voices of the rest of the regiment in heavy fighting, and all they had run into is a few handful of Grots and a single Orky Boy, the heavy silence that came with countless tonnes of rock over her head and the hollow sounding echoes of Munitorium Approved All Purpose Battle Boots on rock tapping and crunching away.

[Sir_Toast]

A pair of Ork Boyz stand very still before the shining Cyclops, eyes tightly shut. One of them whispers to the other: "Dem humies can't see us right? We'z got our eyes closed!"

The other Boy whispers back: "Shut it, ya git!"

From above, however, you hear loud whooping as a group of Orks jump down, painted in purple. You've fallen into the ambush of a squad of Kommandos!


[roll0] K2
[roll1] K5

[blacklight101]

Izzy got one of those crawling sensations between her shoulderblades, like someone had leveled a bolter at her back. Just to kill the feeling, she looks back and doesnt see anything. She looks around even more since the squirmy sensation was persisting. She even looked up.

Then she saw them, a fraction of a second before they jumped.

"Ambush! Orks from the celing!" Izzy managed to get her lasgun up and (relatively) on target and squeeze off a burst at the purple orks that were among their number.




Target K2

Half action aim +10 BS
hulking target +10 BS
Short range +10 BS
Semi auto fire +10 BS

[roll0] v. 77

Damage
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[Sir_Toast]

With a series of maniacal laughs, the four Kommandos that dropped from the ceiling whip out their choppas and get to it with an accompanying: "WAAAAAAAAGGGGGGH!

K1 lunges at Izzy, laughing: "I'ze gonna take you bitz, you metal humie!

[roll0] vs. 43 WS
[roll1] Damage (if hit)

K6 swings his choppa in a wide arc, looking to cause serious damage to Aleksandr.

[roll2] vs. 73 WS (All Out)
[roll3] Damage (if hit)

K3 chops wildly, sparking his choppa off the cave walls as he tries to hit Dempsey.

[roll4] vs. 43 WS
[roll5] Damage (if hit)

K4 grins widely, demonstrating a mouth of very big teef, as he attacks Cassandra.

[roll6] vs. 43 WS
[roll7] Damage (if hit)

[ArcturusV]

Katya whirled around, guided by the divine wrath of the God-Emperor against the hated purple Xenos. Her ripper gun whirled around as well as the Orks unleashed their savage attacks against the squad. They had ignored her... because she was on point, thinking she was a decoy? Well... most likely that was a terrible mistake on their part.

Katya was silent as the grave as she pulled down the trigger on her Ripper Gun, hip shooting it like an Imperial Pict-Hero as she sprayed out the rounds, spreading death, joined by "Bane" adding his own volume of fire to the assault.

Katya spent a Fate point to count her initiative roll as 10 as a Free Action. Aiming as a Half Action for +20 (+10 plus +10 for Accurate), Taking a Full Auto Burst towards the "Kommandos" as her last half action. Bane does a Ranged Volley Order and a Close Battle Order, adding volume to her fire and helping fend off any Orks who get Frisky.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 32 BS, +30 for Point Blank Range, +20 for Aiming, -30 for Full Auto Without Bracing, +10 for Scatter at Point Blank Range, +5 for Ranged Volley, +5 for Tracer Ammo, -20 for Shooting Into Melee, +10 for Hulking Size of Targets. Final Mark of 62.

Scores an addition number of DoS equal to half the original DoS, Rounded Up.

Damage Rolls as Needed:
Spreading out the Hits, 1st Hit to K6: [roll1] +8, +2 for High Impact. Impact Damage. Flaming Quality at Point Blank Range.
Second Hit at K3: [roll2] +8, +2 for High Impact. Impact Damage. Flaming Quality at Point Blank Range.
Third Hit at K1: [roll3] +8, +2 for High Impact. Impact Damage. Flaming Quality at Point Blank Range.
Fourth Hit at [roll4] +8, +2 for High Impact. Impact Damage. Flaming Quality at Point Blank Range.
Fifth Hit at K6: [roll5] +8, +2 for High Impact, Impact Damage. Flaming Quality at Point Blank Range.
Sixth Hit at K3: [roll6] +8, +2 for High Impact, Impact Damage. Flaming Quality at Point Blank Range.

Ripper Gun clip is at 31/43.

[Wyndeward]

With a series of maniacal laughs, the four Kommandos that dropped from the ceiling whip out their choppas and get to it with an accompanying: "WAAAAAAAAGGGGGGH!

K6 swings his choppa in a wide arc, looking to cause serious damage to Aleksandr.

[roll2] vs. 73 WS (All Out)
[roll3] Damage (if hit)


Aleksander desperately dives to get out of the Ork's reach.


1d100

[Wyndeward]

[roll0]

Desperately diving, this time for sure!!

Aleksander staggered back, his left leg horribly cut.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr grits his teeth and levels his las gun at his attacker.

[roll0]

34 + 30 (point blank range) + 10 hulking target -20 firing in melee + 10 standard attack = 64

[roll1]

34 + 30 (point blank range) + 10 hulking target -20 firing in melee + 10 standard attack = 64

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr grits his teeth and levels his las gun at his attacker.

[roll0]

34 + 30 (point blank range) + 10 hulking target -20 firing in melee + 10 standard attack = 64

[roll1]

34 + 30 (point blank range) + 10 hulking target -20 firing in melee + 10 standard attack = 64

Damage roll 1 [roll0] to the right leg

Damage roll 2 [roll1] to the body

Aleksander desperately fires at the Ork that wounded him!!

[TheFallenSon]

Airborne orcs? That was the choice the universe had made on how to ram destiny up into his keister? The grace of the Emperor was shining today, that or the fething greenskin was drunk on mushroom grog. It's blade had swung so close to Dempsey's face he could smell the tang of old blood. He had stumbled back, nearly tripping over the corporal as he did so. Swearing like a wounded ganger from Quatrain, Dempsey tucked his autogun and booked it to the best firing position to kill the death out of the tech filching orks. He and corporal Bloodletter closed in on their enemies, guns up and ready to blast. They were gonna punch big green bloody wholes in those bastards. "I will not die here to day you Greee....PURPLE XENOS BASTARDS!!" They were purple, really? Really? The universe was certainly consumed with a foul and perverse sense of humor.


Per our Arc's advice, full action disengage, then getting ready to poor the pain on the ones near the cyclops.

[blacklight101]

Izzy was definitely hard pressed by the big brute, she needed to try hard to kill him. Better to kill this one now and help the rest of the squad get out of trouble.


if its for this round, cool. If not, let's call it next turn.

Burn reaction to use servo arm attack v. K1
[roll0] v. 36

Damage
[roll1]

Attack k1 with lasgun, semiauto.
+10 semi auto
+30 point blank
+10 hulking target
+10 half aim

[roll2] v. 97

Damage
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

[Hemnon]

Cassandra fell the the ground as that Orky Choppa hit her right in the midsection, sending her sprawling.

There was no time to think or whimper in pain, that could be done later. She immediately began collecting her psychic Energies to try and halt said Ork from chopping her any further.

I'll be trying to use Dominate on Mister Ork that's right in front of her.

I'll be doing it in Push Level, so my total Psy Rating is counting as being 5.
WP 48+10(Psyfocus)+25(Psy Rating) = 83 TN

83 vs. [roll0]
This Is an Opposed roll, so whomever gets more DoS (or least DoF) Wins the roll. The Mental Command will be Charge Your Nearest Friend.
Don't think that's very Suicidal, what with it being kinda regular for Orks to do infighting, but i'll leave whatever Modifiers the Ork gets Up to the GM ^^

Oh and Psychic Phenomena roll, cuz i push
[roll1]
plz be low!:smalleek:

If there's gonna happen Perils of the Warp, I'll do the roll in the OOC.

EDIT: Just a Haunting Breeze.:smallbiggrin:

[Sir_Toast]

As a haunting breeze unsettles the air about the squad and their enemies, they fight back with wild abandon, opening fire in a potent counterattack upon the Ork scum.

Katya stands tall, leveling the ripper gun and once again demonstrating her effectiveness in close quarters combat as she blasts out a burst of automatic fire. K6 takes a pair of shells, and is torn apart! K3 roars at the death of his comrade, before screaming at his own as Katya's massive shotgun casts him into oblivion as well. K1 and K4 take their damage of the attack with pain and anger, heavily wounded but still standing.

Aleksandr manages to bring his lasgun to bear on K4, squeezing off a pair of shots that put it down the rest of the way.

Izzy swings with her servo arm at K1 one, missing terribly but then she brings her lasgun to bear. The flashlight of the Imperium doesn't miss.

Finally, Cassandra reaches out with her mind, trying to dominate one of the two remaining Orks (K2). His simple minds tries to fight back!
[roll0] vs 32 WP


The rest of the Combat should be pretty easy. Only two Kommandos left. This is the Initiative Order we'll be following:
Katya
Izzy
K6
Artho
K1
K4
Dempsey
Cassandra
K3
Aleksandr
K2
K5

[Sir_Toast]

Cassandra dominates K2, his mind incapable of fighting back against her powerful will. He lashes out at K5, attacking with all his strength and skill.

[roll0] vs. 73 (All Out)
Damage on hit: [roll1]

And although the attack missed, K5 turns on his would be attack and strikes back. The two Kommandos start fighting each other, completely ignoring the squad standing dumbfounded at this particular demonstration of Ork psychology.

Then they open fire.

[ArcturusV]

Katya whirled around as the unsettling breeze ruffled past her her, sending a chill up her arms and making the flaming ork bodies sputter and crack as they burned. She dropped into a crouch again, bracing her heavy Ripper Gun as she sighted down at the two Orks fighting one another. No reason to ever let the enemy live when they were making a mistake.

"Exterminate," she ordered quietly to "Bane", as the two of them opened fire upon the hapless Kommandos busy slugging it out with one another.

Wasn't sure if you wanted it to 'just happen' or roll off on it still. But if I need to Mechanics it up, here it is.

Katya Braces, then Full Auto Jackhammers. Bane uses Ranged Volley Order.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 32 BS, -10 Full Auto Jackhammer, +10 Short Range, +10 Scatter at Short Range, +10 Hulking Targets, +5 Ranged Volley, +5 Tracer Ammo. Final Mark of 62.
Gains +50% (round up) DoS on the attack.

Damage (Alternating hits between the Orks):
[roll1] +8 Impact Damage
[roll2] +8 Impact Damage
[roll3] +8 Impact Damage
[roll4] +8 Impact Damage
[roll5] +8 Impact Damage
[roll6] +8 Impact Damage

Ammo in clip: 25/43.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr staggered back, clutching the wound in his leg with one hand and clumsily aiming his las-gun with the other.

[TheFallenSon]

Smiling, with the thought of how much death he and his mate CPL Bloodletter were about to let lose on those stinking purple bastards, Dempsey raised his auto gun and let loose a hail of death at the two of them gathered there around the blessed Cyclops. He thanked the Emperor, Izzy, and Quatrain for the amount of death he was sending down range today. It was good to be a guardsman...most days. He squeezed the trigger and let his nature get the better of him, tossing all the rounds he could at the bastards. 'HOW DOES IT TASTE!!!!' His ire turned to the Orks his rage was rewarded.


Half action aim, half action full auto burst....comrade volley fire....and yeah...that's the cookie crumbling.

[roll0] vs 79 (44BS +5 volley +10 aim +30 point blank range -10 full auto)

[blacklight101]

That had been a much quicker fight than she had anticipated. There might still be a pair left by the Cyclops, but they would fall quickly to the rest of the squad.

For good measure before she switched tragets, she mashed the closest Kommando's head with her servo arm. He may look dead, but this just confirms.

Bringing the lasgun up and squeezing off another burst, she tries to take down another one.



Attack orks by cyclops
[roll0] v. 62 (37 BS+ 10 half aim+ 10 short range+ 5 ranged volley)

Damage
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

Totally forgot 'ol Bruno could ranged volley. ****in derp.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 8: Sector 215

The Kommandos dead, Aleksandr manages to patch most of the squad's wounds, keeping those who took injuries breathing for another day.


Your clearing of the next sectors goes much more peacefully, until you reach the next and final sector: 215. Here the path splits into three different directions, all of them turning around blind corners.


Those who were wounded have been healed to their maximum Wounds - 1.

Strongly recommend Perception and Awareness!

[Sahaar]

"Alright, lads, eyes open. Don't want any more surprises coming up."

Artho scans the areas, directing his squadmate's eyes to places of interest.

[ArcturusV]

Katya's ears pricked up, and her nose was making sniffling sounds behind the Respirator, having trouble picking out some scent through the filtered air as she passed the entrance to the central shaft of the intersection. She paused in the patrol she was taking across all three of them, waiting for the Sergeant to make a choice on the direction that they were all going to take.

"Ork voices, burning... something chem?" Katya spoke softly towards the squad. She couldn't place what the smell was, but it clearly wasn't something very mundane and expected to be burning like wood, had that acrid tinge even through the respirator that suggested something different. Burning metal? Chem vats? She wasn't quite sure with the Respirator on, and considering all the foul Xenos down here, she didn't want to take it off for a closer whiff. No telling what vile corruption might be floating on the air after all.

"Other two shafts seem quiet," she reported as she continued on her patrol, picking up nothing from the Right or the Left. Granted she wasn't the most reliable scout, not exactly known for her powers of perception that is.

[Sahaar]

Artho pauses for a moment, considering his options.

"We'll take the centre shaft. If anyone has demo charges, we'll plant them at the mouth just in case."

[blacklight101]

"I can wire them too, shouldn't be a problem there. Remote or time delay or both, Sarge? I may be able to rig a deadman's switch if need presents itself." Izzy makes the suggestion since she knows the proper rituals of activation and rites of appeasement.

Playing with explosives was fun. She would tell you if you asked, even sometimes if you didn't.

[Sahaar]

Artho considered this for a moment.

"Go with both. If we need to high-tail it out of here, we can at least try to survive while still burying the greenskins. If possible, try make them explode in sequence, so we can have this one right here explode first, then after a minute or so the next one, and so on and so on."

[ArcturusV]

Katya chimes in, "Might want to tighten up the timing," as she walks over towards the Sergeant and the Tech-Priestess. She shouldered her ripper gun, lugging it across her left shoulder, seemingly quite comfortable with the weight of it, "Seen how fast they move? In a minute they'd cover about..." Katya took a rough estimate, "... 'bout 250 meters. They'd be beyond the charge before it went off..."

"... If you remember your training, best method would be to put a delay counter on the trigger. Not based on Time but on Targets. Giving it a 5 count to ignore should mean if the Tech-Priestess triggers them after we pass, it should ignore the lead elements in order to detonate with full force within the depth of the mob for maximum casualties, along with possible cave ins."

Katya fell silent, and kept her eyes off the two once she finished speaking her piece. She handed over her standard issue Demolition Charge to the Tech-Priest, and went back out to take cover near the mouth of the Central Shaft, peering down it, waiting for if Orks came with her Ripper Gun braced up, aimed down, and ready to put the fear of the Emperor in whatever Greenskins were stupid enough to rush them.

Lore Test in OOC was to come up with the Demo Charge trap method... which actually IS in the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer. :smallbiggrin:

Setting up with the cover of the edge of the shaft, braced weapon, taking Full Round Aims down the Central Shaft waiting for trouble that might be coming.

[Sahaar]

Artho shakes his head.

"The purpose of the satchels is to collapse the tunnels if we're overrun and hanve to escape. We're not trying to inflict casualties here, we're trying to cut off the greenskins reinforcements."

After a moment, he comes up with another idea.

"Let's meet half way. Increase the timer by...say ten more seconds. That way if we can't escape, we still collapse the tunnel, but if we're fleeing, we can still cause some hefty casualties for our pursuers."

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey payed close attention to Izzy as she tinkered with the charges...he loved explosives, he idly fingered the fire bomb and grenades he had attached to his combat harness. There was something almost magical about a good big boom. How it just obliterated so many things. His attention shifted after Katya gave her little piece of advice to Artho, of course miss by-the-book would give a perfect explanation on how to set up a solid demo trap line. She was one helluva trooper, he had to give her that...she just really needed to lighten up. He would move forward kicking the CPL to get him moving with him. The two would offer to help set the bombs, then would move towards the mouth of the tunnel. They set up a little ways from Bane and 'Lady Death', aiming their auto-guns down the center shaft. He smelled something foul from up ahead, he was sure of that. He wanted to cat call the heavy weapons trooper, but thought better of it as he settled into his hasty fighting position, prepping two frags, a krak, and his fire bomb for a fullisade of death when the time came. "Gonna be one hell of a show, one hell of a fething show."

[blacklight101]

Kilos of demo charges being wired and armed along the walls. That was the start of a good day in her book. Getting them wired right with the right delay was the tricky part. Lucky there was enough detcord to work in delayed charges like they wanted to.

Cybernetic hand a blur as it darts between wires and a control box between sets of explosives, she wires as quickly and accurately as she can before there is a chance the orks send more boyz at them. "Twenty seconds and the carrier wire will be chained through, another 30 to set the remote, 15 to set a deadman's switch if you want one, and just a few to set the trigger on bodycount delay. Omnissiah willing."

Izzy anoints the last couple connections on the remote and passes it off to the Sarge. "Just dont forget the triggering incantations and the Rite of Arming and it will work just like it's designed to. If I planted them right, it should bring the whole roof down on them."

[Sahaar]

Artho nods, smiling. "Let's all pray that these work, then. I'd rather not be buried by our own charges."

[Sir_Toast]

The charges have been set, in a manner pleasing to both Emperor and Omnissiah. They sit there quietly, only tiny little red lights illustrating the compressed doom they represent. However, the trouble of the Orks ahead must be addressed.

[ArcturusV]

Katya had her misgivings about the Demo Charges. Sealing a cave sounded good... but what about the Orks inside? This was a clear and secure mission wasn't it? She frowned as she pondered it. Do Orks need to breathe? Would they suffocate in a collapsed cave, or just dig out later and unleash the hordes on what the fellow Troopers in the Regiment thought was a secure area? She shook her head a little, concerns for those of higher rank. She was just a grunt, no matter how much she had been trained and pushed to take a commission.

Once they were finished wiring up the charges, she stood, ready to go back on the offensive. "Bane" roused from his position as well, letting out a hiss as his servos wound up for action after the long period of being braced and crouched down. It was a comforting sound to Katya, letting her know the trusty servitor was in fact close at hand and ready to rock out.

"Take 'em hard and fast?" Katya asked, tossing her head down the tunnel with the orks. Her Ripper gun pointed towards the still unused Cyclops, which would be one hell of an opening salvo on a gathering of Orks at whatever foul Xenos Trickery they were up to. She seemed confident enough that in the wake of the blast that they could take care of whatever blasted, shell shocked, and near dead orks would remain.

[blacklight101]

"Using the Cyclops sure does sound like fun. I agree with you, Katya, that should be our big entrance. Let me give it a once-over since those orks got close to it when those purple ones dropped from the roof back there." Izzy moves off to inspect and bless the big rolling bomb, just to make sure that puppy goes off when they need it to.



Int 41
Tech use +20
Best quality arm +10 delicate manipulation
combi tool +10
Copious prayers, incense, and anointing + faith/hope/?

[roll0] v. 81

[Hemnon]

Cassandra had never liked explosives.... which most likely harkens back to her Psyker-training days, where the odd trainee here and there happened to just suddenly either self-imolate or have their head explode in a shower of gore and skullfragments... so yeah, she kept her distance to the explosive materials. No need giving fate more malice to throw at you after all.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksander tied the bandage on his leg just a little tighter and surrendered his demo-charge for use in collapsing the cavern. With that, he unlimbered his las-gun and waited for orders.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 9: Sergeant Rock and Plan Suicide

You carefully inch your way down the center passage, the noise of the brightly lit Cyclops's motor system amplifying as the sound waves ricochet off of the tight space. It rolls around a blind corner, and you hear a very loud:


"Wot da zog is dat fing? Ya want us to burn it?"

[ArcturusV]

It was a blind corner, and a chamber loud enough to account for the noise and several orks. While the Tech-Priest decided to blow the dome or not, Katya slung her Ripper Gun back into stowage, and reaching over to "Bane", picked up the special. The Recoiless Rifle as the Tech-Priests had named it. She hefted it onto her shoulder, and watched "Bane" load it up, ready to go with the power of an Earthshaker in her hands.

Katya takes a half action to stow her Ripper Gun, takes a Half Action to ready the Big Dog. "Bane" uses the Loader Comrade Advance to load up an Earthshaker round into the Recoiless Rifle. And we wait for what the Tech-Priest decides to do.

[blacklight101]

Well, worst thing that could happen is the orks blowing it up too early, and that might still take a few of them out. If that little bomb can trundle a little farther without getting shot up, it might really take a few of them out. Just needed to make sure they were in the blast radius before they set it off- saying they got the chance.

Readying her lasgun, telling Bruno to follow her, and creeping up a couple meters to cover, Izzy waits for a number of things to happen very suddenly that might change the course of the fight.


ready to blow the big rolling bomb, ready to shoot at some orks, ready for a fight. Let's see what happens if we move the bomb closer.

Now somebody sneaky just needs to move up and spot. I figure that isnt exactly me, being rather mechanical.

[Sir_Toast]

The Cyclops continues to roll on, and you hear the Orks start yelling at each other:

Ork 1:"D'awww, look at da little fing go!"

Ork 2:"Whadda ya think boyz? Ya wanna shoot it?"

Burna 1 (the Ork who spoke first earlier): "I'd rather burn it."

Ork 1: "You burnaz want to burn everyfing!"

Ork 2: "Right, I'm gonna touch it!"

Burna 2: "You gone zoggin' mad? It's all lit up like a, like a, like a one o' dem trees!"

Ork 3: "Lit up like a tree? I ain't never seen a lit up tree!"

The argument continues on, mostly about the potential bad things that could happen by touching the lit Cyclops and the possibility of trees being capable of emitting light.

[TheFallenSon]

Dempsey and CPL Bloodletter ready their weapons. Dempsey's autogun stuffed with man stopper rounds and the CPL's Lasgun set to kill...hehe. It was time to perforate some greenskins. The two guardsman would make their way up to Katya and Bane, and continue to move as a sorta fire support team. Providing a buffer and combat support as needed.

[ArcturusV]

Time to Rock out with the fury of the Emperor. Katya ignored the ramblings of the Orks, only knowing that there were a lot of Orks in that room from the sound of it, and that just meant that A) She picked the right weapon, and B) The Emperor demanded more death today.

A few crunches of her booted feet on the rock, and she popped around the corner, turning and looking for the biggest Ork in the bunch. The Recoiless Rifle was mounted on her shoulder, and the lumbering, almost Ork Sized, hulk that was "Bane" was right there pouring on fire in Attack Pattern Sacrosanct.

Katya Takes a Half Move, and then a Standard Shot with the Recoilless Rifle towards whatever she first picks out as the largest ork in the room. Bane uses a half action to maintain Cohesion and adds in a Ranged Volley Order.

Attack: [roll0] vs 32 BS, +10 for Standard Shot, +10 for Short Range, -5 due to Random Homebrew Rule, +5 due to Ranged Volley Order.

If I miss, I need a Scatter roll in direction [roll1] in [roll2] meters. Not firing it Indirect so the expanded scatter for it shouldn't apply.

Damage: [roll3] +10 Explosive Damage, Pen 8, in Blast [roll4] meter radius, with Concussive (5) (Test Toughness with a -50 Penalty, if fail, stunned for 1 round per DoF, if the damage done is higher than their Strength Bonus, they are knocked prone).

[Sir_Toast]

Katya's RCLR shot rockets 10 meters into the excavated room, to the evident surprise of the 6 Orks standing around the Cyclops. Any possibility of survivors is compounded by the sudden explosion of the Cyclops going off in response.

The sudden shockwave and fire blast throws her and Bane back into the tunnel, tumbling them end over end and leaving them and the rest of the squad totally disoriented, ears ringing with the power of the explosion.

You can barely hear your own heavy breathing, as your microbeads start screaming at you: "What in the Emperor's holy Golden Toilet was that?!"

The tunnel behind you begins to shudder ominously, and small rocks are beginning to fall. You must make a choice: Press onward into the heart of the Mountain, or try and escape through the collapsing passageway.


Katya and Bane take [roll0] Impact damage. Katya now has a -20 to Perception Tests involving her ears, and everyone else in the squad takes -10.
There goes your Cyclops!

[ArcturusV]

Katya got back on her feet, the trooper was tough, give that to her. Covered in blast debris and dust, holding a now empty tube as Bane whirred loudly and stood up as well. Everything was silent to her, deadly silent as she looked into what was most likely the smoldering wreck of that chamber. All targets eliminated, as it should be. Dust still falling from the ceiling. She turned towards the squad, trying to warn them about possible instability in the chamber.

She didn't hear her voice. She didn't hear anything. "Bane" was apparently giving a status report, at least his mannerism reflected it, but just a dull silence.

She spoke up louder, and could barely hear herself.

Everyone else heard a normal speaking voice from Katya call out, "Chamber looks unstable." And Bane saying "Minor damage sustained, performance degraded by 3%.", followed by Katya yelling out, "I THINK SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE ROCKS."

[Sahaar]

"ALRIGHT, LADS, I THINK WE DID WHAT WE CAME HERE TO DO", Artho yells over the sound of the explosion and his ringing eardrums.

"I'D RATHER NOT RISK HAVING THE CAVE COLLAPSE IN ON US, SO LET'S GET OUT OF HERE AND BLOW THE CHARGES."

[TheFallenSon]

"IS THE MISSION COMPLETE?!?!?!!?!! I DON'T WANT A HORDE OF GREEN FETHERS DIGGING THEIR WAY OUT OF HERE AND BUGGERING US ROTTEN!!!" Really...she shot the fething earthsaker cannon down here...in the tunnel...really. By the Emperor's blessed balls. He yawned and tried to pop his ears, anything really to get some hearing back. He tapped the CPL on the back the and the two began a heated argument on the possibility of the Orks burrowing out versus this squad burrowing out.

"I SAY WE KEEP GOING SARGE! WE GOT PLENTY OF FIRE POWER!" He lit a lho stick and took a long drag.

[blacklight101]

Izzy's ears were ringing. There were a few numb spots here and there. Her lungs were struggling with the dust that got kicked up. That would have been pretty damn cool if they weren't in mortal danger from the roof collapsing on them.

Now... in or out... That was the 64000 throne question. Out and they might get crushed by the roof, in and they might get trapped in the mountain and written off as casualties. Out means we might link up with friendlies and have an easier fight, in means getting stuck on our own with all the glory.

Deciding- and doing it quickly- needed to happen unless they wanted to stay and get crushed by a Titan's weight in rocks. Firepower wouldn't mean much either if they got overwhelmed with no reinforcements. Out was likely best right now, as glory and accolades are for the living.

"WE SHOULD GET OUT WHILE THE GETTING'S GOOD! BLOW THE OTHER CHARGES ON THE WAY JUST TO BE SAFE. EITHER WAY, WE SHOULD RUN. NOW!" Screaming over the ringing in their collective ears was the only way to be sure they had a plan. Not a great one, but it's all she could do. Other than start running, at least.


I will go with the majority of the squad here, whether in or out, but my vote is bug out if theres a tie. Better to run than dither and get smooshed by rocks.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ringing in his ears and popped his jaw a couple of times. "We gotta get out of this place before the charges go off!!" he yelled.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 10: Sergeant Rock and the Squad Meet the Mountain

A sudden groan, followed by very distinctive cracking sounds, give you little warning as larger pieces of rock fills the tunnel leading out.

The microbeads keep shouting various obscenities at the Mountain Men,

"CAN ANYONE GIVE ME AN EMPEROR DAMNED SITREP OR AM I COMING IN THERE AND YOU'RE MAKING THAT SITREP TO THE BIG E HIMSELF?!"

The squad stumbles forward, into the Ork's roughly fortified entrance. It's quite wide, enough to fit 4 humans side by side. All along the tunnel walls are girders and posts which desperately try to keep the roof from collapsing on you, just barely succeeding.

With a final, deafening boom, the roof behind you fills in the exit, leaving you only one option: forward into the heart of the Ork's mountain stronghold.


Just you, your weapons, and a whole lot of greenskins standing between you and home.

[ArcturusV]

Good luck getting that Sit-rep, she doubted that their Microbeads could pierce that much rock. With the rumbling over and only a dull ringing left in her ears she seemed more at ease. The dark didn't bother her of course. Isolation didn't bother her either. It was a lot like back home, before she ran. Lots of Xenos, just you and a few clan mates, and having to get along by your wits. Stowing the Recoilless Rifle, she took out her Ripper Gun again, and was moderately aware that most of the squad probably was having trouble seeing, having donated their lamp packs to the Cyclops after all, and not having procured some Dark Eyes from the Mechanicus.

"Things look clear," she said a little loudly, no one she saw buried under rocks, all bodies accounted for. The ringing in her ear still set her volume a bit higher than she would have used otherwise. "Undamaged," she reported to the Sergeant, not speaking up about her slight scrape she got in the blast. Let the medic worry about her when she was actually injured.

Her eyes scanned the area, Ripper gun aimed wherever she looked, scouting out for any incoming greenskins drawn by the loud noises.

[Sahaar]

"Keep your eyes open, I don't want an ambush. Cover all sectors, make sure nothing gets passed us."

Artho fingers his microbead and speaks to the man on the other side.

"Sergeant Artho Aubry reporting. Orks in the tunnels, nothing we couldn't handle. Advancing further in, we have satchel charges rigged to collapse the tunnel to prevent further greenskin reinforcement, over."

[TheFallenSon]

"I'm pretty sure the fething tunnel has already collapsed their boss!" Dempsey laughed, then coughed as he smoked his lho, emperor damned dust...the thought never finished, becaues CPL Bloodletter had butt stroked him across the face, laying him flat on his back.

"The sarge doesn't need your mouth private" He spit on Dempsey and moved up towards Katya while the young trooper dusted himself off and rubbed his sore jaw. Corporal Bloodletter signaled for several of the others to gather, then whispered his intent to build a defensible position using whatever was handy, plus some of the sand bags the wiser squadies had brought with them. Between a bit of gravel/rock/boulder re-arrangement and some proper sandbag positioning, the squad had a solid foothold to fight from if they needed it. It would give the tech-girl and sanctioned witch time to figure out what was up with the Vox and do...witchy stuff.

[ArcturusV]

Hold the Line. Standard Imperial Guard Order, and from the sound of the Sargeant, what he expected to do, probably waiting for the Vox Channels to clear up and get back in contact with the base. Katya knew the Infantryman's Primer gave a different solution to this situation. Guideline IV in particular came to her mind.


It may be the case that your chances of returning to Imperial lines are too slim to contemplate. If this is the case sell your life dearly. Do not be found whimpering in a hole, to be dragged by the whooping horde and paraded like a trophy! The Emperor will frown on such ignominious end to a soldier in His army. Do not disappoint Him!
Use your untenable position to your advantage. You may find yourself in the soft underbelly of the foe. Strike! Find a target. Set explosives. Kill sentries. Snipe officers. Strike and move. Strike and move. The Emperor will protect a man who is willing to see his life dear! The more damage you do, the more fortune from the Emperor you will earn.
Gut the enemy from the inside. Spit in his eye. Show him what a Guardsman in peril is capable of. Earn your place seated by the Golden Throne.

Was it in that slim chance though? She wasn't certain yet. Guideline II was after all "Stay Hidden" and move under the cover of darkness to reunite with the lines. She didn't know if Xenos could see in the dark, but she could. Maybe the Tech-Priestess too, never knew what widgets they had. Entirely possible that she could use that superior vision to bypass the thick headed Orks and pathfind a way back to the battle lines. Ammo was okay, she had plenty, barring the Earthshaker rounds. 2 weeks rations as well. She was well equipped for an extended tour. Several of her comrades had yet to fire their gun in anger, and still were topped off well.

While she was pondering, she had "Bane" take out the sandbags she acquired back on the ship. Using her entrenching tool she was digging up dirt and small debris, filling the bags and having "Bane" start stacking them up as a simple bit of defensive cover in a position with good fire lines, relatively hard to flank, and most importantly, not in a place where they could be easily cornered in case they had to bolt from something. With Corporal Bloodletter coming over she instructed him to start filling the bags as well. Not what she originally planned to use them for, but it would serve.

In case the DM wants it, a Common Lore (War) test to see how good of a defensive position I set up. If it's good at all. Buying time for the Tech-Priestess, the Psyker, etc, to do their stuff.

Common Lore (War): [roll0] vs 36 Intelligence, +10 training in Common Lore (War), baseline mark of 46 before conditional modifiers or if someone wants to use the Power of Helping to give me a plus 10.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra went over to sit a little by her own, away from the others, but close enough for if an emergency might happen.
30 Minutes of chanting, mind-prepping, psychic usage, etc. and She's got success on the psychic power-front, as the futures and possibilities are opened to her mind.

[Sir_Toast]

Update 11: The Vox is ALIVE!

With a crackle and a worrying pop, the vox comes to life.

You hear damage reports and sitreps from all across the company as the Mountain Men report in on sudden cave ins. Everyone seems to be all right, a few broken bones and some claustrophobia inducing "got trapped" moments. The Lieutenant is definitely busy trying to make sure everyone got out of there, and the sergeants are reporting in by the numbers.

[Hemnon]

Cassandra didn't look very calm after that major vision-show. She actually looked quite distressed and deep in thought, like she was still trying to understand and make sense of what she'd seen.

[blacklight101]

As Izzy finished Rites of Maintenance on her gear, the Vox crackled back into life. It was a relief, even if they were separated from the main body of troops. She directed Bruno back behind the new barricade and settled in herself with lasgun propped up, ready to shoot at any orks that might show.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr shucked his pack off and positioned himself behind cover, his las-gun at the ready, scanning for a target.

[Sahaar]

As the vox crackles to life once more, Artho smiles widely, only briefly interrupted by a wince of pain from the nasty wound on the side of his face. Immediately, he fingers his micro-bead.

"Sergeant Artho Aubry and the Mountain Men reporting in, Leftenant! Do you read?"

[ArcturusV]

As they finished building their position Katya and "Bane" had found a nice spot with open firing lines to set up, bracing their Ripper Gun against the Sandbags as she went up on Sentry detail. Between her and "Bane" they were pretty quick on the Reload, no consideration for replacing an ammo drum that is still half full. Should be good for another two fights at the very least.

[Sir_Toast]

The vox crackles a little, but Sarlie's voice comes out clear:

"Aubry? What's your position?"

[Sahaar]

Artho looks around.

"Erm...under the mountain, sir. We followed the path and took a right at the first junction we encountered. All troops alive and accounted for; no casualties."

[Sir_Toast]

Sarlie responds: "Why aren't you reporting back here, Aubry?"

[Sahaar]

"Not quite finished cleansing the tunnels, sir. We're almost finished, though."

[ArcturusV]

Katya looked back at the Sergeant as he told what could be considered a very dangerous lie over the vox, "Sir... if you do not mention our status of being cut off at the moment, we may be considered deserters, subject to summary execution on sight," she pointed out. She didn't feel like getting shot in the face by some Commissar or Commissioned Officer. Particularly when she had done her duty to what she considered high standards. It was unusual for her to interrupt a report like that, but she felt it was required before she turned her attention back towards the direction of possible enemy approach.

[Sahaar]

In the bustle of fixing the vox and leading the prayer, Artho had completely forgotten about the cave-in. Swearing under his breath, he speaks into the vox again.

"Ah yes, our path back has also been cut off by a cave-in, likely some ploy by the greenskins. Nevertheless, we will endeavour to complete our mission before finding our way back."

He turns to Katya and gives her a thumbs up in thanks.

[Sir_Toast]

Sarlie responds, "You'd best figure out a way to get back up here. We're regrouping for the next push into the mountain and I think we'll ne-"

And with that, the vox goes back to static again.

[Sahaar]

"Ah feth me," mutters Artho.

"Vox broke again, looks like we're pushing forward without support."

[ArcturusV]

Right out of the Primer, 'when it doubt, push forward!'. It suited her well. Though she took a moment to root through her gear, pulling out one of the Firebomb Grenades. This one she handed to the Tech-Priestess, and gave an instruction, "Please booby trap the fortification," she nodded towards the Sandbags. It wouldn't do to leave a hardened position for the Greenskins, and it would take time to strike it properly that they may not have on hand. A Fire Grenade for the unwary thinking to take her bulkwark was a just compromise in her mind, and very much within the traditions of the Guard.

She nodded to the Tech-Priestest, lugging her Ripper Gun up from the sandbags and carrying it on. She leveled a gaze at "Bane", and as if on cue "Bane" added, "Status, Nominal, Combat Efficiency at 98%." Katya nodded at that, acceptable marks for battlefield conditions, outside of pristine rifle range requirements. Turning back to Artho she waited for the order to move out.

Ripper Gun out and readied. -1 Firebomb Grenade, gave away to the Tech-Priestess if she wants to rig it up.

[blacklight101]

"Will do, one boobytrap coming right up." Izzy takes the offered firebomb and starts wiring it to go off. The greenskins would get a nasty surprise from this.


[roll0] v. 71

41 int
+20 tech use
+10 delicate manipulation

[Sahaar]

Nodding in approval of his squadmates' handiwork, Artho waves the squad forward.

"Alright, lads and ladies, let's go ruin some orks' day. For the Emperor, my friends!"

[Sir_Toast]

Update 12: The King Under the Mountain

The squad moves down into the heart of the mountain, their few remaining lights illuminating their path into the deep. After an hour of marching, still no greenskins. After two, no Orks. After three, the tunnel opens into a large chamber. An enormous Ork Nob is ranting at a massive door, inscribed with the holy symbol of the Omnissiah.

Strewn about the door are deactivated battle servitors, many of them half disassembled by Ork Gretchin.

Upon your entrance, the Nob turns to you and starts yelling at you:
"Don't you humiez come down 'ere! Dis is MY mountain, and I'ze ain't gonna let anybody steal it from me!"


Roll for initiative.

[TheFallenSon]

He would move forward when directed. Keeping his autogun leveled and his senses as open and aware as he could make them. The Corporal would do the same, the two convict soldiers were of the same mind today....best not to die in some stinkin' ork hole.

[ArcturusV]

A few things ran through her head in those brief moments of first contact. One, a large ork, something to be shot for the drastic effect that the loss of the large one would have on battle. Two, mechanicus markings all around, likely a sacred relic of some sort, perhaps some temple to the Machine Spirits or Manufactorium buried under the mountain, explosive ordinance was verboten, possibly damaging relics far more valuable than the entire squad. Three, unlike most Orks, this one actually seemed to have some sort of armor.

Slinging up her Ripper Gun, she took out her Prize from earlier, the Hellgun, as the situation was clear. She needed something to deal with the armor of the Orkoid, and she needed something that was going to be relatively pinpoint destruction. She raised her gun as she took a knee, snapping off a quick shot at the Ork, a silent response to his challenge of being King of the Hill, while "Bane" adopted attack pattern Purgitate.

I think with a 13 Initiative, it's safe to say that I'm going first, so getting my turn out of the way.

Katya Readies her Hellgun. Katya takes a Standard Shot with her Hellgun at the Nob. "Bane" Uses the Ranged Volley Order.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 32 BS, +10 Standard Attack Action, +10 Short Range (most likely?), +5 Ranged Volley Order, +10 for the Hulking Size of a Nob, Baseline Mark of 67.

Damage Roll: [roll1] +4, +1 for Ranged Volley Order and Lasgun Volley Talent, Pen 7, Energy Damage.

29/30 rounds in Clip.

[Wyndeward]

Aleksandr shifted his rifle to a firing position and awaited the order to engage.'

[roll0]

On his action, Aleksandr will aim and then fire a standard attack with his las-gun

34+10(aim)+10(standard attack)+10(short range)+10 (hulking size)=74

[roll1]

[roll2] 0 pen E damage

[blacklight101]

Architecture dedicated to the Omnissiah, that meant more toys if she had clearance to get through those big doors. Maybe if what they found was good enough, she could get those new mechadendrites she had an eye on. That was for later, though, since there was a big ork about to attack them.

It was time to get shooting. She just hoped her accuracy was better than it had been earlier.


shoot at the Nob (semi auto)

[roll0] v.72

37 bs
10 short range
10 1/2 aim
10 hulking
5 ranged volley

Damage
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

Clip 45/60

[Sahaar]

Artho points at the Nob and yells, "Shoot the big one first!"

[Sahaar]

Burst 1: [roll0]

BS 43
+5 Ranged Volley
+10 Hulking
+10 Short Range
+0 Semi-Auto Burst

[Hemnon]

Cassandra remained near the back-line of the group, readying herself to throw psychic madness everywhere, should any of the Orky-Orkoids try and close in for a CQC.

I hold action.
Or Ready Action or whatever. Trigger will be an Enemy closing in within 10 meters of everyone.:smallsmile:

[blacklight101]

Suddenly, Izzy's Holy Implants picked up on some surprisingly intact Machine Spirits in the room. In a split second, her databanks had identified them.

Oh, this should be good. A quick command code or two and these bad boys come online.

A quick binaric transmission containing a handful of prayers and activation rituals shot out. Hopefully her sensors weren't lying about them.

I hope this works.

"Heads up! We might have some help!"

[Sir_Toast]

Though the zealous Sergeant's shots go wide, the redoubtable Tech-Priest is on target, landed a couple hits on the King. At first, it looks like the shield held, but a sudden surge of green colored electricity from the Ork's back reveals the truth: the King's shield has overloaded!

He screams in pain as the electricity deals 1 wound of damage, but after he's done and the shield stops sparking he looks at the squad with animal hate.


His shield is offline until the next round.

[Sir_Toast]

Boss Fight 1: The King Attacks!


With a sudden "zap" the Ork disappears, only to reappear among the squad! With a scream of WAAAAAAAAAUUUUGH! he viciously swings his big choppa at Aleksandr!

[roll0], Pen 2
[roll1], Pen 2 (Tearing)

[ArcturusV]

They just never learn, do they?

Katya knew the drill, same as last time some stupid greenskin xenos popped up in the middle of the squad. Her body turned in concert with "Bane", and dropped the hellgun to swing up Lady Death's favored weapon, the Quatrain Pattern Ripper Gun of Rippery. By the time she was pointed at the Ork Nob, her finger was pulling the trigger, as "Bane" joined her in pouring on the Pain to the guy. All in silence, all with the grim grin on her face as she focused the righteous fury of the Emperor on the Xenos.

Katya drops the Hellgun, which is a Free Action. Readies the Ripper Gun which is a Half Action, takes a Full Auto Burst at the Nob which is a Half Action. "Bane" takes a Ranged Volley Order, and a Close Combat Order as it's in full defensive mode.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 32 BS, -30 for lacking of Bracing, -10 for Full Auto Jackhammering, +30 for Point Blank Range, +10 for Size (Hulking) on the Target, +10 for Scatter Quality, +5 for Ranged Volley Order. +5 for Tracer Ammo. Will spend a Fate Point to give me an additional +10 to Hit. Final Mark of 62.

Gains +50% (Round up) DoS on the test due to Tracer Ammo.

Damage 1: [roll1] +8 Impact Damage.
Damage 2: [roll2] +8 Impact Damage.
Damage 3: [roll3] +8 Impact Damage.
Damage 4: [roll4] +8 Impact Damage.
Damage 5: [roll5] +8 Impact Damage.
Damage 6: [roll6] +8 Impact Damage.

[Sir_Toast]

The Ork wails in pain as the ripper gun's incendiary round set him on fire, Katya's grim and steady shooting pouring round after round on target. On the final hit of her burst, the Ork takes the shot directly into the chest, throwing him into his back.

[blacklight101]

Just in case he gets the crazy idea in his Orky head to try and get up, Izzy takes a quick dash towards the Slayer Servitor and tries the manual override and a new series of activation rituals. "Cover me! I think I can bring this back online for us!"



[roll0] v. 61

41 int
20 techuse
20 if lore/logic based
10 if delicate manipulation helps