View Full Version : Scumdogs of the Universe

20-01-2006, 08:01
"Scum!," shouted the large man in fatigues. "Degenerates! Heretics! Filth! All of you are mine now!" The lieutennant stopped to spit in the ashy dust. A small puff of dust picked up where the phlegm landed. He looked out from underneath his soft forage cap. His men, his Scumdogs, were lined up in the sweltering heat. Sweating, glistening, they cooked while he enjoyed the comfort brough by his shaded podium. Surveying the scene, he noted with pleasure that every single one of them, new and old, were relatively at attention. They should be, his enforcer Altan was out patrolling the crowd. Lieutennant Balsac idly noted there were about 60 of the condemned. He grinned as Altan paused to club one of them with his cudgel. Obviously the brute had noticed the man wasn't totally in regimental formation. He remembered detachedly that it was the sniper he had requested transfer into his Penal regiment. Good, thought the Lieutennant. Better they learn nice and early they don't matter anymore. Balsac chuckled as he noted the furious gleam on the snipers face, but then watched him back down as he noted the armed guards manning the compound walls.

"Each and every one of you are here because you have been deemed unworthy in the eyes of the Emperor!" he shouted, as he resumed his speech. "Your salvation is not my concern. Some believe as long as you die in the Service of the Emperor, you are saved. I do not. You are here to die for ME. You are here, to die, so that a worthy soldier does not have to! You are here to be used as one might use a hunting hound. If the hound suits, reward it and it shall be good to you. However, should the hound not suit, take it outside and have it shot. There is no use here for any of you who expect anything other than blood and death."

The Lieutennant paused, and gestured to a figure standing with him. "This is Imperial Commisar Raphael Grit. He shall be your compass. Should you be found wanting, He has Ultimate Authority over all of you." Balsac nodded to the commisar. Grit paced down the steps, off of the podium, and into the crowd. He began patrolling the group, much as Altan was doing. However, where Altan was whipping the troops into formation, correcting mistakes, Grit was going down the lines, staring each and every trooper in the face. He was making his judgements upon the troops.

GM: This is a small Imperial compound, roughly 50 miles outside Hive Tertius. "Savior's Roost," as it is termed, is roughly about a quarter mile long, and three quarters wide. There are high walls surrounding the interior, 15 feet high. They have a walkway around the top for gunners to fire down, both outside the wall and inside. It resembles a prison yard inside, mostly empty except for barracks, the motor pool, the Munitorium building and a couple other facilities. All buildings but the barracks are heavily fortified and guarded by Imperial Guard of the Chelonian 42nd. They wear dark blue combat fatiges, and black flak armor over it. They have reflective visors on their helmets, so that you can't see their faces. A high tech guard regiment, their average soldiers are about as well equipped as standard Imperial Stormtroopers. Their suits are made out of a fabric that easily resists the desert heat, despite the color of their armor.

Savior's Roost is pentagonal shaped, and is situated in the middle of evaporated salt flats. It is used as a rally point for the Penal Legionares, because if they escape there is nowhere to run to.

Your current situation: Everyone is in formation and unarmed. The orks are on their way, but nobody knows that yet. Post thoughts and reactions, but do not break formation until after Commisar Grit gives his speech, and I say so.

Hate Train
20-01-2006, 08:59
I stared straight ahead, I was sweating bad and so was everyone else. Under the merciless heat of the sun none were spared the indignity of appearing before the Commissar drenched in sweat. I was feeling drowsy, so I silently let myself accept the calmness of the empty, windless yard. No need to get worked up, right?

New Cult King
20-01-2006, 10:36
Running through Charon's mind: The heat is good. The pain is better. It feeds my anger. But for a few cruel twists of fate, these bastards would be cleaning my boots with their spittle. That loudmouth up the front, with his missing jaw and that rediculous metal replacement and his pet grox Altan... on an even playing field, they'd never see me, never hear the bullet that killed them. Not here, though. Not now. My time will come. Their time will come... I won't be cowed or bullied by the crude intimidation techniques that the Imperial Guard seems to substitue for discipline. This Grit though, now he looks like he knows the score. The bully boys and loudmouths are easy to peg; the Commissar is a quiet one, and I don't trust the quiet ones. I could do worse than to get on his good side. If he has one...

As the Commissar approaches, Charon stands up as straight as he can, in his best imitation of parade ground rigidity, and stares straight ahead, jaw clenched, unblinking in the glaring sunlight. He draws on all of his willpower, honed by long waits for a target to present itself in the stinking, murky depths of the hive, and doesn't move a muscle.

20-01-2006, 12:41
Bomber Betsy
"I'm standing up tall and straight best I can cos I'm shorter than everybody else. I'm so busy standing tall and straight I'm not listening to what the lieutenant says. Besides, it's boring and he says the same thing all the time anyway.
A nasty man, the comissar stares right into my eyes and I feel sick and my heart starts pounding. I shrink down and cast my eyes to the floor. I'm shaking and when I look up he has moved down the line, but the feelings in my stomach are still there."

20-01-2006, 13:31
I keep wondering how long they're going to make us stand here. As long as they like, I guess, it wouldn't surprise me if they just left us here to bake in the sun and used our bodies to make cover for the Guard regs, there's plenty more Penals where we came from. The Lieut is yelling something at us, but I've tuned his words out, its just a drone. We've heard enough of his motivational speeches to know what's in them by now.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Altan moving along my row. I can hardly miss him, he's the size of a house. You could paint him green and he'd fit right in with the Orks we're fighting. I straighten my back even more than it already was, stare straight ahead, fix my facial muscles, give my best impersonation of the mythical perfect Imperial Guardsmen they show in the recruitment posters.

I begin to think I've got away without attracting his attention, but as the 2-I-C steps past me he stamps down on my foot and grins. I wince and my knees buckle just slightly as I barely suppress a yell, and he laughs out loud, moving on to the next victim. Still I stare blankly ahead, while my imagination grants me visions of a point blank stub round smearing his tiny brains all across the wall in front of me. Would he even notice? Stupid bastard.

Following close behind Altan is the Commissar. Oh Emperor. Altan's just a thug, he's fluked his way into seniority but he's no better than the rest of us. But the Commissar, you can tell he's the real deal. Tough as nails, totally fearless, completely dedicated to the Imperial cause. If he spots me do anything wrong he'll squeeze my head in that power fist of his until it bursts. He's the same height as me, too, so as he stops in front of me his face is directly level with mine. He's staring right at me, just like he did with the others. More beads of sweat run down my face, and not just because of the heat.

My inner voice fills my mind. Stay completely still. Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't even think. Stare straight through him. Don't look at him. Really don't look at his bad eye. Don't look him in the bad eye. Oh Emperor save me, DON'T LOOK HIM IN THE BAD EYE......


Grand Warlord
20-01-2006, 13:56
Mack looked ahead with nothing to show on his face. This was just another rant by the Captain and the Commissar. It was awe inspiring to be sure but he had heard it before and he had been through far too many battles to be moved by it anymore ... maybe if he had something to lose but ... nope.

He looked straight ahead and said nothing he stood and looked straight ahead the pair spent some time in front of him screaming and preaching which was always welcomed to those like Mack, looking for the Emperor's embrace, but hell would freeze over before Mack would show them anything but the killer he had been forced to become ever since his breakdown on Wyle XV.

Well no need to worry about the past especially when, by statistics he should've died years ago he figured he was on borrowed time anyway ... so best to be quiet.

20-01-2006, 15:28
114-7-EATH finally came out of his drug induced dream. It helped he deal with the stress of the real world sometimes is body just acting on autopliot doing what ever it was told.

he was now on some battle flied he move his hand to the weapon in his pants yep it was still there. so he still had a chance to stay alive at least for a little while didn't sound like this place woudl be to safe.

looking around he saw alot of other poor souls in the same postion.

and as usally there was the captain or something other trying to rose us up to gve our lives. not on my wacth.

Tanith Ghost
20-01-2006, 16:58
Grit surveyed each convict in turn, noting those who dared meet his gaze, and those who did not. "I'm not going to waste your time with declarations."
He said to the assembled troops. " You know who I am, more importantly, you know what I am. I'll cut to the chase. Your CO may be in charge, but
I will be watching you all like a Harkoni Skyhawk. My rules are simple.
Everyone fights. Nobody quits. You don't do you job, I'll shoot you myself."
To highlight the point, he went to a point in the formation where a man had attempted to meet his gaze, but had clearly been intimidated. "Trooper, do you know what the sentence for cowardice is?" The bolt pistol was out of the holster in the blink of an eye and trained on the trooper next to Rubik.
The discharge of the pistol was followed by the sick splat of blood and brains splattering on Rubik. "Read your uplifting primers, and take note of what they require of you." He said, voice even, resuming his place in front of the troops. "I will be punishing all infractions to the fullest extent of my authority I deem needed. Scum though you are, you will conduct yourselves as Imperial Guardsmen. You will adhere to disipline. You will not give ground to your foes. You will do these things, or you will face my wrath. That is all."

20-01-2006, 17:12
Bomber Betsy:
"Sir! Yes Sir!" the platoon booms in chorus

(during these early stages, can everyone please begin their entries with their character name to clarify who they are so we can all put narratives to names?)

Commander X
20-01-2006, 19:51
Looking forward at the wall at the far end of the square, James was daydreaming of what was outside. It wouldn't be too much longer before he would be able to see it again, all he had to do was survive whatever the Commisar would send them to this time. As there were still 60 - the Commisar's shot echoed through the square - or rather 59 others left to throw in front of any harm that shouldn't become too difficult.

James wasn't too impressed anymore by the shooting of random prisoners, it wasn't something rare in here, and as long as it wasn't him getting shot he couldn't care less. And as long as he looked like he wasn't doing anything wrong, the ogre they called Altan would leave him alone too. Alltogether life in here wasn't too bad while there were easier targets for the two of them to pick on.

20-01-2006, 20:07
[OOC: TG, its Rubik, not RubRik... I kinda knew somebody was going to put that rogue ' r ' in there at some point, but my character has nothing to do with Ahriman... having said that, you're the Commissar, so I'm not exactly going to argue over what you call me!]

Hassar Valen Rubik:

The crump of the bolt round, inside the head of the man next to me is a sickening sound, and being coated with the former contents of his skull isn't any better. A year ago I'd have gone to pieces right at that moment, but these days its almost to be expected. I'm sometimes surprised they let some of us get as far as being killed by the enemy. Besides, I didn't really know the poor sod who was stood next to me, so it could have been worse. It could have been me.

Read your uplifting primers, the Commissar had said. That's almost funny. I wonder if he's noticed the way the Primer describes the Orks we're fighting? Feeble and incompetent, with weapons that mostly fall apart before a shot is fired. That sure doesn't sound like our foe here on Tartarus Epsilon. Grit didn't sound like he was joking though, and the Black Hats [Commissars] aren't generally known for their sense of humour.

I really didn't fancy my chances of a getaway in this hellhole anyway, but now that Grit is here there's going to be an extra pair of eyes watching us. An extra single eye, anyway. Great.

I wonder if having the Commissar shoot me instead of the other guy would have been so bad after all....


Hate Train
20-01-2006, 22:56
Christopher "Psycho" Imentha: I remained where I was, the Commissar had passed me over without a second thought, but I was sure he'd seen something. They always did.

21-01-2006, 00:08
Eisendarth: I stand there thinking about the last chimera i drove and i start to let the heat get to my head.

New Cult King
21-01-2006, 01:26

Some poor sucker's head exploding doesn't phase me. Seen it a hundred times - like setting a spark cracker off inside a dune melon. What does bother me is the casual disregard for the lives of the men supposed to be fighting here. I've never seen one of these Orks before - all I know is what I've read in that propaganda-filled piece of latrine paper they call the Uplifting Primer, and I don't trust it. What I do know is, when it comes time for killing, the more of us there are the better for everyone involved. At least the Commissar has shown his metal - he's ice cold. Despite his itchy trigger finger, or maybe because of it, I like him already. If he wants to engage me in a shootout though, it's his funeral...

As the Commissar passes Charon, Charon looks him right in the good eye, but otherwise doesn't move.

Grand Warlord
21-01-2006, 02:27
((Welcome back TG!))

Private Mack:

Wow. A bolt round to the head ... original. Nothing says real power like suffocating some no name who's cracked one too many jokes my your dead mother. Now that is power. I look the commissar in the eye as he passes me. In the end I am going to die in this scumhole legion anyway. Sooner or later doesn't matter anymore ...

I had heard enough about this Commissar Grit to know he was almost as bad as us ... but I wouldn't ever say that aloud ... I wasn't that dumb. I stand there and in the heat while sweat drops into my eyes and it burns but i dont move. No point in giving them a reason to shoot me.

21-01-2006, 08:48
The Lieutennant was getting ready to continue his speech when one of the sentries on the walls reported a plume of dust rapidly approaching. It didn't match a dust-storm, lethal as they were they were readily recogniseable. As the moments went by, the noise of many engines, revving well beyond what they were designed to, slowly filled the air.

"ORKS!" went out the cry. "Spotted and identified, Sir! Kult of Speed by the looks of things!" shouted one of the men on the walls, his binox held high.

A twinkle formed in the eyes of Lieutenant Balsac. "You sorry excuses for men have an opportunity! An opportunity to break the enemy like a righteous hammer upon the Throne of Him on Earth!" With a nod, he allowed his orderly to command the opening of the Munitorum. "Lock and Load, Scumdogs! We got some Greenies to kill!"

GM: There are about a dozen bikes with single riders, outfitted with big shootas. There is Two trukks, one with the Nob and his retinue of Skarboys, and the other loaded up with Slugga Boyz. There are also three Wartrakks, each outfitted with a big shoota. These are a small detachment of the main Orkish force, looking for looting and mayhem. And maybe a good duff-up or two. Be careful if they manage to penetrate the walls, an Ork in close combat is no picnic.

21-01-2006, 10:24
Oh man do I regret throwing that genade now.
If I had known that this is what I would be doing from now on.

Standing here I don't think anyone knows me, but then again who would. This mask really chafs in the heat, but its keeping the dust out and my beatten mug covered.

I don't think that Commissar likes me very much after what I've done to my uniform. What I only riped the one of the arms off my shirt. The shirt was tight and I needed to make room for my batting arm. It shows the dragon off too.

I love the kit I was given. Needs a little custom work like my friend "blunt" here but it's nice for starters.

New Cult King
21-01-2006, 11:35

I run for the Munitorum and amidst the yelling and scrambling, I swipe my rifle case and head for the stairs leading to the top of the wall. I don't have much time. The guards in their weird uniforms stand aside - they know that they're going to need every gun they can get in this fight. I kneel behind the parapet and open my case - thankfully everything is where I left it. My damn head is throbbing like a sludge frog. This heat must be getting to me more than I thought. My rifle comes together quickly in my hands, almost like its eager to start the killing. I don't blame it.

The black dots at the base of the dustclouds are starting to take shape - a shape that jumps into sharp, clear focus as I bring the scope up to my eye. Emperor's teeth! I was right not to trust the Primer - these Orks things are enormous! And angry... The one I have lined up has a scar running across its horrific, pig-like snout. Good. If it can bleed, it can die. I adjust my grip on my rifle. My fingers are slippery from sweat. My head is killing me, feels like my brain is swelling. I need to concentrate. Breathe.

I exhale slowly and caress the trigger, tightening my finger into a squeeze. My rifle bucks as it releases the bullet, and I see the impact strike home right between the beast's eyes. It is thrown back in the saddle and I see its thick blood spray...

Then it sits forward, screams, and keeps riding! What the hells? How?

Never mind now - this thing will die today. I reload, take aim again, and squeeze. This time the bullet explodes through the Ork's eye and out the back of its skull, and the bike careens wildly out of control, narrowly missing another bike. It slides for a hundred feet or so before striking a rock and cartwheeling another 50 feet. Boom - it explodes.

First blood to me.

21-01-2006, 11:37
Hassar Valen Rubik:

The neat ranks of the Legionnaires dissolve in an instant as we all dash for our weapons and equipment. I reach my backpack and kneel down to inspect it. Everything looks like its still there. Good, you never know what might go missing, especially in the Penals. I clip my optic to the side of my autogun, snap the bayonet into place, load a fresh magazine, wrap and tie my grenade belt around my waist, and check that my stubgun is secured on the belt and has six rounds ready to go.

Looking up to the walls, I see that the Chelonians are flapping too, dashing around to man gun towers and fire ports. They've got their shiny toys to play with, but can they fight? I've seen a few Guard regiments who thought their tech was enough to see them through get rudely surprised. The Orks don't care, it just means that when they kill them they get more stuff to loot. Maybe that means the Orks will ignore us shabby Penals and go for those wannabe Stormies instead. Here's hoping. From up on the wall I hear the CRACK of a sniper rifle, once, then a second time. Somebody up there is keen. Our new pet sniper? It means the Orks are getting within gun range themselves though, which isn't good news. As if to confirm this, there's a faint tapping as Ork slugs patter off the external walls. Time to go get ourselves killed again.


Grand Warlord
21-01-2006, 14:45

Making my way to the Munitorum I finally cleans the sweat from out of my eyes. Grabbing my kit I put it on loading the first clip into the Autogun I make my way back to the wall area aiming at the multitude of green filth coming my way. I am not quite sure where to aim so I double check all my gear. The only sure bet for me would be to wait until possibly hitting a important part on the bikes and hope to cause some damage... oh well I got time...

Tanith Ghost
21-01-2006, 17:44
Grit took a place on the wall of the outpost, scanning for signs of cowardice.
The men had taken his lesson well. "The truck. Take out the truck." Grit moved to the sniper's position next. "Take out the transport driver, soldier, then the tires." Grit indicated the Nob's trukk.

Not waiting to see if The sniper obeyed, he moved along the wall again, ocasionaly vectoring troopers onto certain targets. "Trooper Bethany, I want you to keep your head down until the enemy is within 10 paces of the wall. Then drop every ounce of explosive you have on them. Use frags, and save the meltas until ordered to use them."

Grit appraoched Altan. "Keep them men targeting foes by priority. That Trukk needs to be wrecked before it gets here. Have your men take it out at least two hundred yards out." He indicated the trukk with slugga boys. "You and your men will lay down your lives to ensure not one ork sets foot inside the perimiter." He paused for a second, pointing out the truck to the guard regulars. "You know the deal, Altan. If we win this war, I will personaly attempt to revoke your life sentence. Fail me, and you're stuck with these scum. I trust you won't disapoint me."

21-01-2006, 18:06
Elizabeth felt her lip curl.

Same old crap, different planet. Same old 'do as you're told scum' speech

Mindlessly she tried to toss her fringe out of her eyes, but the sweat has plastered it to her head. Why did it have to be heat? It was always heat. When when the Ork stop being so utterly retarded and decide to invade an ice-world. Then that would show these ingrates. They could slog their guts out in the heat well enough....but none of them were man enough for the cold.

Elizabeth sighed 'Fragging heat!' she muttered under her breath.

Commander X
21-01-2006, 18:24
'Why would those Orks try to invade a prison? They should have been happy they are outside, rather than trying to visit us in here. Perhaps they are really as dumb as the books claim...'

Not actually in a hurry, James went to the Munitorium to pick up his share of weapons. Like everything around here, his weapons weren't very advanced, but if you shot something enough it would die anyhow. Those Orks seemed to have that idea to by the sound. It sounded like they were trying to make the wall fall over by shooting it enough. Perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea...

With this thought in mind for later, James climbed the wall and looked at what was coming at them. Apart from a cloud of sand, with some green patches in it there wasn't much to be seen. Figuring that the rest couldn't see properly either, he started blasting away at a random green patch in the sand. As long as it looked like he was doing something right, the Commisar and the Ogre would leave him alone.

21-01-2006, 19:08
114-7-EATH moved quickly as he had been trained to do in any sort of fight were he didn't have a good weapon. prehaps if this was in a bunker or spaceship his pistol would have worked.

looking threw the weapons until he found something that would work for this defense.


A large heavy calbire machine gun with a tri pod. Throwing the gun over his one shoulder he grabed a large ammount of ammo belts for the gun.

now he could do something running to the wall he placed the gun on the edge and cocked it.

114-7-EATH didn't know much about him self execpt when he was in battle.

then he knew everything

21-01-2006, 19:16
In hearing the general alarm I make for my kit strap everything on and load the shotgun. I run to the nearest wall and set up shop and loaded the mag in to the autopistol and cocked it. I took out the bikes first shooting the tyres out where ever possible then loading a hotshot shell to light the fuel tanks. Sending Orks on their first ever flying lessions. Explosions and the sound of automatic fire is all I can hear. I can only just make out the sounds of the officers over the sound of grenades and bombs.

I'm beginning to enjoy it.

21-01-2006, 19:46
Elizabeth lit a smoke with the pilot light of her Flamer. Her weapon was good, she'd had it modified to give it maximum range without guzzling too much promethium, but the Orks were still too far away at present for her weapon to be useful.

Firing it now would only prove to make her a better target than a flashy neon sign. Her joining the fight could wait for now.

21-01-2006, 20:03
Closing fast, the Orks revved their engines louder still. The Nob stood high upon a custom platform over the trukk's driver. Raising a huge blade, more akin to an industrial cutter than any sort of rational knife, he roared.

4 dozen ork voices returned the call. At just over 100 yards, they opened fire. Despite the incredible volume of noise, smoke, and ammunition expelled, only a few fell from the walls. However, the heavy caliber rounds tore great chunks from the walls. It wouldn't be fun to be hit by one.

The orks began to turn, to circle the fort. They were moving incredibly fast, and it was hard to target them. Charon took a shot at the Nob leading the raiding party, and gasped as it flashed away in a blaze of blue light. He had some sort of protector field. The nob bellowed what could only be termed a laugh, his muscles rippling beneath his blaze blue clan tatoos.

One biker broke off from the rest. They didnt notice his goal until it was too late. The biker headed for the front gate at full speed, massive fuel oil tanks welded crudely onto his vehicle. Despite supressive fire from the Legionnaires, the bike crashed into the gate, detonating it inward with a tremendous hail of flaming death. Four of the Chelonians, and 6 of the Scumdogs were caught in the blast. The gate was open, but the orks had not penetraded yet.

21-01-2006, 20:39
Hassar Valen Rubik:

As I try to sight on one of the circling Ork vehicles, a massive explosion to my left rocks the entire compound. I'm knocked from my feet and crash down on the walkway. Two of the nearby Chelonians are less fortunate, they tumble over the edge and vanish out of sight into the compound. See how much good all your flashy kit did you, I think to myself as I scramble back to my feet. Just weighed you down so you'd hit the ground harder. Still, once this is over, if I get to their bodies before anyone else I'll see if they've got anything useful for me. They won't miss it.

If the dust was making visibility tough before, that detonation has thrown up a dense fog of the stuff, mixed with oily smoke that irritates my lungs. I can barely see the end of my rifle in my hands, but from the direction of the blast I know exactly what has happened. The Orks have taken the gate down, sons of bitches. This is not going to be fun.


21-01-2006, 20:59
Bomber Betsy:
Some sump-suckin bastard knocked me down when everyone broke formation!
By the time I'm up and running towards the ramp where Cheron is, the gates have been blown apart.
I hurl a krak grenade in the direction of the gaping hole that was the gate and keep on runnin.

21-01-2006, 21:00
Lance looked in horror at the exsplosion, he thought himself lucky that he was wearing his goggles even then he had to shield his eyes. He ran to the wrecked gate and stood on the edge of a shatterd walkway shielded buy upturned shrapnel. He covered his face from the smoke and waited for the orks to come, he checked his flamethrower was ready and his pistols at hand.

21-01-2006, 21:51
Hassar Valen Rubik:

Along the walkway from me, I see Ash rising to her feet. I dash across, put a hand under her arm and lift her upright.

"Come on, Ash." I shout. "Time for you and that flamer to earn your keep." She'll not be happy with me for bossing her around, but we need to cover the gate quickly. Lance is already over there with the other flamer waiting for the Orks to show their ugly faces, but we'll need both of them to have a chance of keeping them out. Autoguns won't do it.

The drone of Ork vehicles is getting louder as we get to a position overlooking the gate, and as I look over the wall I can see a Trukk approaching. The battered transport of theirs looks like its only held together by string and good wishes, but I know better than that by now, it'll take solid heavy weapon hits to stop it.

The Orks sat in the back, however, will die to small arms, at least in theory. I take aim and begin firing off single autogun rounds. *Bam*. *Bam*. *Bam*. Heavy bolters are chewing up the ground around the vehicle and kicking up big plumes of dust, so its impossible to see if I even hit anything, but the jarring recoil through my forearm and cheekbone is oddly reassuring. Besides, if the Commissar or Lieut happen to spot me, its better that I at least look like I'm doing something useful.


New Cult King
21-01-2006, 23:17

Those damn things have blown the gate - got to move quickly now. I run along the wall and take up position where I can see one of the trucks hooning wildly around the perimeter of the compound. My teeth are aching in my jaws now - can't remember the last time I had such a bad headache.

Rubik is doing a good job providing suppressive fire, but I need to be a little more precise. Even though the dust is thick, somehow I still know where my target is. The world seems so much simpler seen through my scope. One shot *CRACK* and the driver is out, the bullet tearing through its eye socket. Lesson learned. My second shot *CRACK* bursts a front tyre, and the vehicle starts to fishtail out of control. It swerves and flips, sending Orks in all directions. Rubik is there to punch holes in them as they start to stand up, dropping at least 2 that I can see. He's not a good shot, he's a great shot. Maybe once this is over, we'll have something to talk about.

I move further along the wall until I'm opposite the mess they made of the gate. I brace myself against the inner parapet and wait. This will be like shooting fish in a barrel. Big, green, ugly fish that could tear your arms off and beat you to death with the soggy ends without flinching...

Come get some.

Hate Train
21-01-2006, 23:54
OOC: Argh, listening to all these present-tense posts messes me up. I guess I better switch the style.

I hear calls for all men to cover the gate. I guess it's been blow down. Still in with the equipment and a few other men, I finally take my kit. The bright metal latches click as I flick them upwards. I open the case. There's an autorifle with three clips inside, four frag grenades, my vox-unit, binoculars, canteens (both of them are empty), a solar-screen and autopistol. Something I looted off an Ork last time we were in the field, had to cut a hole in the case to fit it in too. It's a "Choppah", I just think of it as a scimitar. The weapon itself is as long as my arms and curved to have a wicked spike at the end. It's no slender weapon of art though, the thing is as wide as my hand. I grab the hilt, there's no guard on it. Hefting the weapon I begin to abandon my previously calm state of mind. I'm starting to feel the anger, little things that annoy me about this place are coming together. I pick up the autopistol and holster it, I palm two frag grenades and place the blunt edge of the blade on my shoulder. I walk out into the courtyard. The sunlight, the heat, the dust. The gate is a crater in the ground now. I'm no fool, I know I can't take an ork on by myself, not in close combat. Or can I? I raise one grenade to my mouth and clench the pin in my teeth.

Tanith Ghost
22-01-2006, 03:27
OOC//First person stuff in italic format like this.

So this sorry bunch has fight in them after all. Perhaps we would not be called to the Emperor today. If they can halt the enemy at the gates. A big if without a firm hand to guide them. My duty is clear as the waters of the River Silverflow back home. Time to fight.

Grit descended to ground level and proceeded to the breached gate. "You. You. You. Fall in and follow me." Grit indicated three convicts, and motioned for them to follow. When Grit arrived at the breach, he unholstered the pistol. "You will sell your lives here to prevent the orks passing. Come hell or high water, you will not fall back. Cowardice will result in your death as surely as the enemy will." Grit took deliberate aim as the orks approached.
The pistol barked once. Out on the feild, an ork cranium exploded like a melon dropped from a hive tower. "While the filthy alien draws breath, there can be no peace." The pistol barked again, severing a choppa arm. "Suffer not the unclean to live." The pistol barked twice more, finishing off the one armed ork.
"Purge the xeno scum. Kill them all." The commisar's voice never rose from an even, icy tone. The terrifying calm he exuded contrasted starkly with the aprehension around him.

22-01-2006, 09:49
Bomber Betsy:
"The comissar tells me to follow him. I'm already breathing hard from sprinting for the ramp, which was all a waste of time.

I aint so sure bout standing out in the open til he begins cutting down the orks with his pistol and yelling at the top of his lungs.
I can't hear nothin but him. Being this close to someone who isn't scared makes me be not scared.
Another truck with lots and lots of Orks is coming in and getting shot up by all of us. The Orks are shootin everywhere, but next to the comissar I'm invincible.

Hee hee! Me throws a frag and another an another and another. Boom! Heh heh heh. Bits of Orkses everywhere!

...It's in my hair - euwww!"

22-01-2006, 14:36

As the bikers started circuling I found it increasingly difficult to target the orks, as they became a blur infront of my goggled eyes.

Suddenly I here the blast of the main gate behind me. In seconds i'm covered in soil and shards of gate. As the smoke clears I see gap where the gate last stod. I look across to the commissar grit. He looks at me to say you know what to do. I run down and set up a deffencive sheild 20feet from where the door was. I'm joind by other prisoners that Grits ordered to help.

Commander X
22-01-2006, 14:55
After seeing how crude and simple the tactics of the Orks were, James was suprised one of them had actually been clever enough to think up this way to blow up a gate. It still wasn't the smartest idea they could have thought up, but it did work well as the gate was now wide open.

'But they remain dumb by trying to get in here.' he concluded, and got back to the firing at the Orks. Because they were going in circles around the fort, there were moments at which he just had to wait for them to pass again. To continue looking busy at those moments, he just fired at some bushes outside.

James also ignored the shouting of the Commisar, figuring enough people would have been stupid enough to look around and be forced to come with him. It was a lot safer on top of the wall, as bikes couldn't climb very well. The only thing he worried about were their crude guns constantly firing and hitting a random person every now and then...

22-01-2006, 15:06
As the vehicles raced around the fort, several orks lept off of the remaining Trukk. The boyz that had survived the wreck of the first one were running at the gate, firing their large caliber sluggas haphazardly at the defenders. One penal legionarre went down, missing his face. Another had an arm blown off.

The boyz who lept off the trukk went to the wall, and attached large anti-tank limpet mines to the ferrocrete. Running for cover, the mines went off, bringing roughly 20 feet of the wall sliding down. James gasped as he felt his section of wal shift, and begin to collapse.

The bikers exploited this breach, and 7 of them made it in through the gap. The nob trukk was right behind.

OOC: I don't expect you guys to wait on my every move, i encourage active roleplaying and if one of you had advanced it to the orks reaching/entering the fort I would be just fine with that. It's when something CRITICALLY changes the story line I might intervene. If you want to take liberties with the story, go right ahead. It is not stuck on a single path, i have enough ideas that your actions as a group influence where the story goes.

Grand Warlord
22-01-2006, 16:38

"Sacreth Throne.."

I coudln't belive I even said it I mean this wasn't the first time I fought orks. It always surprised me how much the stupid orks could kill us better than we could kill them ... again keeping that to myself. Another explosion and some of the orks are coming through this second breach.

I notice that Bray, I think that s Bray over there, has the first breach with some of the more ... unlucky ... troopers for his shield so I motion to a few other scumdogs who follow my lead at the 2nd breach opening with just about everything ... including the sink at the latrine messhall. The first couple of orks go down full of Imperial Justice but they keep on coming ... I'll be lucky to see the end of this day.

"Sacred Throne indeed."

22-01-2006, 16:52
Elizabeth hit the ground hard....she had to have been positioned at the gate, didn't she. It was typical. She was a touch dazed and felt hands on her dragging her up.

It was Rubik. Elizabeth glared at him.
'I'm well aware of the situation...the bruise on my forehead shows me that!' she spat at him as she hoisted her flamer around, almost catching him in the igniter flame. She;d get him back later...if the son of a bitch was still alive after this.

With a grin, Elizabeth hit the trigger of her flame and flames spat out. Quietly she whispered prayers and litanties to make sure that the flames did their work in exspunging the unholy.

Elizabeth laughe as she sent out great gouts of flame into the on coming hordes. But at present her shots were fairly ineffective.

'What I wouldn't give for a decent melta!' she roared out over the din. This raised an inquisitive eyebrow from the man nearest her. She'd always been a tease, using her doby to get what she wanted, and screwing over most people one way or anyother.

'In your worst nigh...' she began to smirked at him, but her sentense was cut off by the massive vibratoions that ran up her spine from her boots. Milliseconds later there was a ear-spitting roar of explosions on another section of the wall.

She watched the section big enoug for even the crappiest Ork driver to happily get their mismashed vehicle through.
'Frag me!' she sighed, very unimpressed.

Braging her way past a number of people, not caring who she shouldered out of the way, Elizabeth made it to the colliapsed section.
'TAKE OUT THAT TRUKK!' she yelled, cuffing the nearest around the back of the head. 'AIM FOR THE ENGINE AND FUEL LINES, I'LL DO THE REST!'

It was their best chance at the present. Blow up the trukk and block up some of the hole with it's wreckage. And hopefully take a cart load of the enemy. She just hoped someone in this rabble of the worthless was a half decent shot. If the fuel was exposed, one shot from her own weapon would draw the curtains on that trukk and hopefully all the Orks inside.

22-01-2006, 16:58

Seeing that the mines were being seat he dove away just as the rockcrete expoldeing behind him unforunantly his machine gun was lost in the explosion as well.

getting up he could see that he was near the gate. a few bikes had allready made it threw the breach but they could be taken care of not much room to move a bike out in the fort but the truck that would be hard to take out once it was inside.

114-7-EATH leaped hopeing that he would be able to land on the truck. rather then landing in front of it.


landing on top of the truck

"dam verse I wish i had some grenades."

22-01-2006, 18:58
Bomber Betsy
"I loves my grenades. Hee hee! They so much fun. Boom goes the greenies!

I don't know where the comissar is, but I've run forward beside a big man with a mask over his face who's blowing big chunks out of the orkses with a shotgun.

Orks keep coming through the gate and my bombs keep landing in the middle of them. Boom they go! Boom! Hee hee hee!

Bitz of green splatter over everyone and it smells real bad.

I go to peer over the barricade and get ready to lob another bomb, but my face hits the dirt and I'm dragged back.

I twist round. A little greeny has got my feet. He's all little, pointy nosed and beady eyed. I try to kick with my legs, but it's got me.

22-01-2006, 19:13
Every time a lucky Ork gets through the hail of lead and grenades pouring at the gate, I plug im with a good dose of lead poisoning.

I'm enjoying myself so much, it's only when the explosions stop that I realise the crazy kid at my side is gone.

Warp damned grot snukc up behind us somehow. Guess I'll have to remedy the problem with a peice of good ole Necromundan steel.

I take "Blunt" off my belt.
There's a satisfying PING was metal bat connects with cranium. The sounds get duller and wetter with each strike til there aint nothin' left.

"Hell, he ain't nothin but a stain an a memory."

I nod to the girl. She seems fine.

Then I hear a roar of engines to my right. The Orks have breached the wall. We gotta get out of here!

Tanith Ghost
22-01-2006, 19:47
"Stand your ground! Stand true!" Grit roared. As a convict began to flee, Grit put a bolt in his brain. "Cowards will die! Hold you place!" He turned to the girl and her benefactor. Be ready to relepp attackers from inside the compound."
With that he looked back out into the breach. Trooper Edger indicated the xposed fuel line on the ork transport. Grit released the empty clip on his pistol and loaded a fresh one, with all the urgency of a man at target practice.
THe pistol barked three times, puncturing the line twice and prodicing a large slick of fuel. "Trooper Edger, ignite the fuel slick." He ordered. "Trooper Bethany, and Trooper Bray, you will assist me in dealing with the ork foot infantry." He indicated the orks headed for the first breach on foot.

Grit took a target and downed the greenskin with parade ground precision. Two bolts was more than enough. He clamly selected another, and killed it too. Five orks died in this way, executed by the iron strong commisar.
When an ork bike came near, he indicated it. "Bethany, three frags on that xeno biker." He commanded. "Bray, finish off the rider."

22-01-2006, 21:24
'Yes Commissar "state the bloody obvious"' Elizabeth snapped back with a look of disgust on her face.

Though that look turned into one of extreme enjoyment as she aimed her Flamer carefully, allowing the Trukk to get a little too close.
'Fire in the hole.' she chirrp quietly, though she was sure no one heard her. She pressed the trigger.

The flames hit washed over the front of the trukk, which kept on coming, right into the core of her flames. And with an almight bang, the fuel ignited. Bits of trukk flew everywhere spraying everyone in the vaccinity, both trooper and ork with shards of burning hot metal.

Elizabeth had been clever and ducked at the right second behind some fool in front of her. Whoever it was got the shrapnel in her place. She smiled widely knowing that this was the reason the Emperor had put her in the galaxy.

22-01-2006, 21:31
Hassar Valen Rubik:

Another massive explosion, and a section of the wall further along falls in on itself. Things just don't get any better, do they? No time to worry about that now though, the Legionnaires and Chelonians in that section will have to take care of it. For the moment, my worry is to keep the gate covered.

The remaining Orks from the wrecked Trukk have regrouped, I got a couple of them as they were bailing out but now they're making a headlong charge for the compound. Betsy's packages were slowing them down, but she got jumped by that grot and now Grit has moved her to the new breach. Over the din of gunfire, gruff inhuman voices call out a frenzied howling in unison. They emerge from a cloud of smoke as a mass of green and rust, battle axes held high above their heads and crude pistols firing wildly. No time for fancy single shots now, I thumb my shot selector to full auto and blaze down into the pack. Its impossible to miss. The Chelonians and Penals around me are doing the same, and blood and green slime blossoms from dozens of bullet wounds. More of them fall, but so many of the hits are merely shrugged off by the tough aliens.

There's another CRACK, and the leading Ork is punched from his feet, head smashed wide open. No need to guess who that was. I spray more shots into them, knowing I'm about to run out of....

Click. There it is, right on cue, my last round. I smack my palm against the release clip and yank the empty magazine from my autogun. Plenty more where they came from, though, I unhook a fresh mag from my belt and push it into place, and as I do so the remaining handful of Orkz rush through the gate. A couple of them fling stick grenades randomly, the detonations shredding a trio of Legionnaires as they dive for cover. Crap. The Orks are in through the gate and the breach, there aren't many left over here but they can do plenty of damage. As if to prove me right, they smash into a group of the Chelonians, scattering them like fenceposts in a hurricane. Wildly swung blades hack into their armour, crushing skulls and severing limbs. As I take aim, Altan yells out from below. "Scumdogs, with me! Charge, or I'll kill you myself!"

That's spoiled things. Just as I was starting to appreciate the view from up here too. Given the chance, I'd ignore him and let him take on those Orks all alone, but I just know the Lieut is around somewhere, and he wouldn't be happy at that. Besides, some of the more impressionable Penals are at his side already, so at least I won't be lonely down there. I bound down the steps three at a time with a few of the others as my inner voice kicks in again. This is madness, you know. You're charging Orks.

I shut it out. This isn't a good time to think about what I'm doing, and besides, disobeying orders in the Penals would be madness too. From around me, Legionnaires begin to shout as we race towards the greenskins who are finishing off the unfortunate Chelonian squad.

"For death and glory!"
"In His name!"

I stay silent for a moment, and then, as one of the Orks ahead turns and sees our charging group just a few metres away, I unleash my own battlecry at the top of my lungs.



22-01-2006, 21:46
Elizabeth stopped in mid stride to shoot a look of utter bewilderment at Rubik as he sprited past her screaming at the top of his lungs.

Amatures! she thought.

And with a shrug, Elizabeth carried on her journey down off the wall to get into the thick of things and she never uttered a single sound. She was a firm believe that only those who had fear uttered war cries. Whereas she just needed to look at the enemy to show them that she meant business and their death.

Elizabeth hit the ground, she wasn't hurrying. For the most, all she could do is annoy the Orks with her Flamer. The dumb Greenskins burnt just as well as any biological organism. But their tiny brains kept them coming even when they legs had turn to ash underneath them. But that didn't stop her.

She pulled the strap of her flamer over her head and slung it by her side, pulling out her autopistol. It was fairly battered and she'd been issued with it before landfall and hadn't actually fired it yet.

Drating this was and that, so she wouldn't get hit, Elizabeth found a shady stop, both from the sun and from the incoming fire. Finding cover in the rubble, Elizabeth searched for a target. A massive nob with some heavish augmatics was bellowing loudly and swinging a massive axe around. And sticking out of it's back was the fuel cables that powered the beasts personal machinary.

Taking careful aim, Elizabeth fired. However the gun in her hand jammed. She swore a curse and ducked down to check the weapon. The bullet had been misshapen and jammed. Using her combat knife she prised it out. Apologizing to the weapon and telling it that she'd sort it out properly later.

Ejecting the magazine and slamming it in again, Elizabeth whispered a quick prayer and rose again to fire. But the nob had gone.

22-01-2006, 22:11
Bomber Betsy:

"Three frags on that biker?
Surely he means kraks?
Aaaw, I wanna throw the kraks.
There aint no time to ask, so I hurl some frags.
The front tyre goes pop an' Boom! Heh heh.
The bike flips and then I can't see. Dust is everywhere. Hurts my eyes.
I pull my goggles down, but it's all in my goggles too.

Where am I?
I take out my autopistol and empty a whole clip where I think the Orks were comin' from."

22-01-2006, 22:18

"My mask and goggles sure are good for something.
I can see the Ork biker getting up. Damn he's big!
Lucky for me he doesn't see me swing ole "Blunt".
He goes down like a sack of Ganemede spuds, but starts to get up again.
"Blunt" just bounced straight offa this guys thick skull.
Looks like it's gonna have to be the messy way!

I stick my shotgun in the dumb bastards gaping mouth. and seperate his head at the jaw.
I'm covered in green skinkin' slime again.

It's gonna be one of them messy days..."

22-01-2006, 22:52
As 114-7-EATH landed on the trukk, he noticed for the first time exactly how much larger the orks were.

Much larger.

The Nob bellowed, and leaned over his platform and backhanded the man hard. His fist was nearly half the size of the human's torso. 114-7-EATH flew off the trukk, and smacked the rubble of the wall with a sickening crack. He howled as the wind got knocked out of him, and heard his shoulder pop out of the socket.

"WAAAAUUUGH! Kill da 'Umies, Lads! Duff 'em all 'n smash der 'eads in!" shouted the Nob, his deep bass voice carrying over the battle like a bull elephant. It was then that the trukk hit the flamer's wash, and exploded. The nob was thrown clear, and three of his bodyguard made it off the trukk. The rest were incinerated in the explosion.

The slugga boyz saw this, and howled their own challenges to the humans. The Legionaires and Guard were noticing with alarming swiftness how difficult it was to bring one of these brutes down with mere autogun rounds. Anything short of the brainpan was no guarantee to incapacitate. The boyz let loose one more volley of fire, gunning down the last of the Guard at the gate, and drawing their choppas they charged the Legionaires.

The remaining bikerz drew their choppas, and proceeded to rip around the compound, beheading anyone they could reach.

GM: Just hold off for a little longer. Help is on the way, but so are more orks. But all will end to the best. Anyone that feels they can take the nob should have a go, but realize he's a hardass with a giant axe and bioniks.

22-01-2006, 23:05
Putting her pistol back in its holster, Elizabeth hefted the bulky flamer once again and stepped out into the fray, letting out gouts of fire as she went. And as she suspected, the Orks kept on coming, even though some were ablaze.

Unfortunately, the size of the Flamer meant that she had to be very careful where she stopped to fire the beast of a weapon. She didged as best as she could, keeping her movement going to try not to draw the Orks fire. Which was utimately very hard due to the conspicous nature of her primary weapon.

A few times she had to stop firing to move faster as massive slugs hit the ground around her. And not for the first time Elizabeth was utterly thankful that the Orks were hedious shots. However the last time she wasn't as lucky.

Shots rang out and Elizabeth tripped, hitting the trigger of her flamer as she fell. She hit the ground on her back, rolling as she fell as to not chargrill herself. However, she knew she'd hit something by the angry bellow that was issued to her left.

When the dust from her fall cleared, Elizabeth looked to her left and rolled her eyes. She'd hit the Nob and he didn't look too amused because of it.

Hate Train
22-01-2006, 23:07
I hear someone over the din of battle calling for a charge. Altan. I think. I toss the two grenades in my left hand over my shoulder and unholster my autpistol. I look around, they're rushing the front gates. Screw that. I'm getting aggravated now, I turn to where the orcs have blown a hole in the wall and jog towards it. Leaping over the rubble I run smack into an orc. We tumble down to outside the walls. He's stronger, but I'm faster. I'll smack him in the face with my autopistol's handle, then pump the rest of my clip into his skull. Feeling the slime of the orc's cranium all over my body I stand up and look around. Just then an orc comes around the corner. He's big and toting a choppah like my own, it's straight edged though. My stomach drops and I know that he's a leader, a killer.. He stares at me stupidly for a few seconds before grinning menacingly and holding his choppah out in front of him with both hands. I'm feeling fear, but I swallow it down and try to replace it with rage. The anger boiling inside me is starting to grow and suddenly I feel light-headed and I can hear voices far away. KILL! HACK! MAIM! A rage like I've never known grips me. TEAR HIM APART!
The Green Scum stamps forward slowly, then seems to notice some change to me, his jaw drops spectacularly. I scream. I scream loud and run at him, choppah in both hands. I bring it up and down in an overhead swing. He raises his own weapon with one arm to scrape my own aside. The blades collide with a head-splitting shock. The Orc's blade goes down a foot towards his head before he slaps his other hand onto the handle to throw me aside. My blade leaps from my hands, torn away by the orc. He slashes horizontally at my head and I dive to my choppah, scooping it up and rolling all at the same time. Adrenaline is pounding through my system and I feel like my head is going to explode. RIP OUT HIS ENTRAILS! I roar again and charge. The Orc swings vertically to decapitate me, but I duck under his blade. He reverses the swing, bringing it down and towards me. I run in close and hug him to avoid the blow. His weapon hits the ground with a thud, I skip back and swing in vertically. A huge gash sprays from his torso where I cut. Orc blood spatters onto my legs as I drag the huge curved blade across his stomach. I wrench it free with relish, loving the feeling of his blood spray. He lets out an alien gasp and makes a strangulated noise. I scream one last time and drop my blade onto his unprotected head.
The orc's skull holds against one blow, the second splits it open like a melon and green blood sprays into my face. I scream triumphantly and slam my blade into his chest before his falls to the ground, creating a gouge. SLAUGHTER HIM! SLAUGHTER HIM! DEVOUR! GORE! The voice in my head isn't my own, I know that much now, but I don't care. I throw my weapon aside and fall on the orc's corpse. I slame my hands into the gouge, prying his chest open a little further. I sink my right hand into the hole, while holding it open with my left and feel around.
There. Something big and squishy.
Pulling back with all the strength I can muster, the orc's heart comes out of the gap, tubes of flesh, veins, and arteries still clinging to it. I rip it free with relish. Then I'm filled with a horrible urge. The voice growls deep in my brain, Devour... It makes a deep purring sound that blurs my world. I stuff the throbbing organ into my mouth and rip it apart with my teeth. Swallowing down the lumpy orc-flesh I slame my face into its stomach, intent on devouring the bastard whole.

New Cult King
22-01-2006, 23:13

I see the girl with the flamer take a shot at those cables on the big one's back, but her gun jams at the worst possible moment. That'll teach her to take care of her weapons - do that, and they take care of you.

Something needs to change this situation - we can't stay on the defensive, the Orks are just too much for a single man to fight off. The Commissar screams "Charge"... ahahaha yeah right. I'm staying right here, thank you very much.

One goes down, head exploding, then another. Having to nail them in their tiny brains is making this more difficult than it already is, and I almost feel like I'm floating now, the pain in my head is so intense.

The big one jogs back into my line of vision, splitting a Chelonian in two from forehead to groin before throwing its head back and roaring. I line up the cables on its back and fire. The bullet is on the mark, severing the thickest cable in a shower of sparks. Something strange happens with the contraption on the monster's back - arcs of blue electricity fly everywhere, one of them grounding in another Ork's metal jaw, causing its eyeballs to pop from the resultant charge.

The boss Ork is still standing, but he seems pissed. I am about to try and finish the job, when I see one carrying an enormous two handed axe sprinting towards the Commissar from behind. I take my shot, and nail it right at the base of its skull. It staggers like a broken puppet, and the Commissar turns on his heel and puts 3 bolter rounds in its face before catching my eye and glaring at me.

You're welcome.

22-01-2006, 23:26
Looking away from Charon, Grit saw Imentha take down the boy. Sure it was large, and impressive, but he had his eyes on the Nob. Someone needed to stop him. After Elizabeth had singed it, it had put the flames out with the hefted body of a struggling guardsman. He had a tri-barreled slugga that would have made a big shoota jealous, and proceeded to fire all three barrels point blank into an unfortunate legionairre. The man was nearly blown in half. Swinging his 'uge choppa in the other hand, he not so neatly cut down another three Guardsmen running up to assault him from the rear. Grit knew he needed to do something.

He also had his doubts in his mind. Was Imentha Tainted? He pulled his bolt pistol and was about to administer the Emperor's Justice, for it was better to not take the chance, when an Ork jumped in front of him and knocked him off his feet.

Hate Train
22-01-2006, 23:34
I look up briefly from my feast, slightly dazed. I'm covered in orc blood and my teeth feel gummy. I see the Commissar get knocked to his feet, did he see me? I come out of my daze a moment later and snatch up my choppah. I run towards the Commissar, and slam into the orc's side just before it hacks him. The brute stumbles and topples over, I slash its neck. Just then I feel a tremendous fist smack me in the face, I go toppling head over heels and come to rest in the dust a moment later. I'm missing my choppah and it's hard to see out my right eye. I'm pretty sure my jaw is broken.

22-01-2006, 23:37
After her momentary lapse of concentration over the sheer bulk of the Nob, Elizabeth kicked out with her feet before she rolled back onto her feet. It made her look rather foolish doing it....but after the hundreds of bar brawls she'd gotten into, she knew it was best to try and clear the area before getting up.

When she was on her feet, Elizabeth let out an arc of fire to clear her way as she steadied herself. And once again her hit the Nob and now he was really pissed.

'I find this intensely irritating!' she snarled through gritted teeth as she saw the Nobs beady little eyes upon her. And with that she ran for cover, fire spraying all over as she ran.

'I'm screwed.....dammit!'

22-01-2006, 23:41
"Puny 'Umie!" bellowed the nob. "Git back 'ere so I's can be killin' ya!" He slung his shoota, and drew his choppa. Shaped like a poleaxe, it was a good 7 feet long, and had what appeared to be a cut and sharpened piece of a dozerblade rivited onto the business end. Wielding it two handed, he charged.

Hate Train
22-01-2006, 23:54
Chris sat up and slouched, carefully feeling his injuries. He was pretty sure his jaw was broken, and he couldn't see out of his right eye at all. Trying to get up, Chris howled as his right arm gave way under the pressure, obviously injured. Relying on his left arm, Chris rose and stood hunched, just on the edge of the action. Rounds were firing into the slugga' boyz, but the orc's charge was too swift and they were cutting down the penal legionares in an orgy of blood. Slowly, Chris spotted the Nob bearing down on Elizabeth.

He swore. Although he didn't know her too well, he found himself compelled to aid the flame-wielding woman. He limped towards her, searching the ground ahead of him as he did. Now behind the Nob he bent momentarily to scoop up an autogun. He limped toward the orc who was nearly within distance to decapitate Elizabeth. He paused and braced the autogun against his torso, squeezing the trigger. A stream of shells erupted from the barrel, several stopped by the shield, but by luck one made it through, impacting on the generator on the Nob's back.

23-01-2006, 00:06
'Yeah, right!' Elizabeth scoffed to herself. She was crouching behind part of the wrecked Trukk and things seemed decidedly grim. She searched her kit to see if here was anything there help her out.

The only thing she had that could do anything nearing damage was the spare promethium tanks she had for her flamer. But to be effective, she'd have to jam the tank somewhere and ignite it.

She sighed, it was the only chance she had to do something with the final few seconds her life had left. And she had to try and do something to this beast. She'd commited too many mortal sins to be forgiven in body, so she had to make sure that she had a big tally on the 'good' side spiritually when the 'The Big E' judged her.

'Well convict #17425 looks like your time has expired.'

With the tank in one hand, visable...hopefully the beast would think twice about shooting her. Even the most pea-brained of Ork knew who explosive promethium was. She took a swig from her hip flask, but thought better of it and swallowed it. Then she took another but refrained this time. And in the other hand, she lit a cigarette.

Elizabeth stepped from her hiding place and expected to be killed outright but the Nob just bellowed something and the others moved their aims back to the other. She took that as a good sign.

'You dies now!' It screamed and lashed out with its axe. Even though it was big, it was still wickly fast. But Elizabeth to too hyped up with adrenaline. She dodged and dived under the Nob swing. She had seconds and she could feel the air being sliced from the axe as it was coming around.

Two more large strides and she was close enough. Raising her cigarette she exhalt with every ounce of her strength. Her alcohol burned as it travelled over the lit end and hit the Nob in it stooped head. It was nothing more than a slight irritation but it gave her another second.

Blindly, Elizabeth thrust the tank forward until it caught on something and drived to the left, under the Nobs return swing. In the opposite direction, Elizabeth had flicked the cigarette, hoping it would hit the trail of promethium she has leaked from the tank.

However, she hit the ground badly and cracked her head.....falling unconscious.

23-01-2006, 00:12
More trukks kept coming. As the battle devolved into a close combat frenzy, few were able to stop the incoming green tide.

Fortunately, the Chelonian XIV Bombard Division was inbound. The Bombards, massive seige engines, were several miles outbound. They were being supported by Airborne Valkyrie stormtroopers. Such a response was in order to obliterate the orks.

The Legionairres all got a vox-bead transmission to expect bombardment to begin in several minutes. Not everyone got it.

Hate Train
23-01-2006, 00:19
Chris, oblivious of the incoming bombers due to the lack of vox-caster, stared in dumbfounded amazement as a fireball erupted and the nob was consumed in the firey blast sparked by Elizabeth. Chris's amazement was interrupted when he heard a sudden scream from his right. Whirling around he spotted an orc throwing away the remains of another legionaire before turning to him. The orc screamed savagely some words that Chris didn't understand. Chris squeezed the trigger of his autogun, only to be greeted by a high click, indicating the empty status of his weapon. The orc ran up gripping its shoota in one hand, missing its axe in the other. Chris threw the autogun, catching the beast in the face, but not slowing it down. Its fist smashed into the man's face, evicting a great spray of red blood from his already bleeding mouth. Chris twirled and fell face down in the dust. His world descended into darkness as the sound of engines filled the sky above.

23-01-2006, 00:28
[OOC: I'll give third-person a shot as Nid requested, see how it feels...]

Hassar Valen Rubik:

Against all sensible expectations, Altan's charge goes well. A dozen Legionnaires slam into the Trukk boyz, blades gouging into green flesh and swung autoguns clubbing Ork faces. The aliens are fearsome close combat opponents, but they're outnumbered and the Penals know that is their best advantage. To his side, Rubik sees Altan, stabbing at an Ork with a long blade before swinging with his other arm and smashing a solid lump of ferrocrete from the detroyed wall into its jaw. "Only a fool fights fair!" yells the second-in-command in triumph.

Rubik drives his bayonet into the choppa arm of the Ork in front of him, penetrating clean through and out the other side. The xenos growls in pain and attempts to bring his slugga to bear, but two other Legionnaires tackle it and all four of them tumbled to the ground. "The gun!" yells Rubik. "Grab it's gun! Disarm the thing!" One of the Penal Troopers jumps onto the creature's slugga arm, the other man scrambling onto its chest as it thrashes around. The weight of all three men holding the monster down is just enough to give one of the troopers the chance to pull his autopistol and unload a dozen shots into the Ork's gaping mouth. It spasms and kicks some more, unsure of how to respond to this new development before realising that it is dead.

Rubik hauls himself back up again and retreives his weapon, and turns just as one of the other Orks smashes the skull of another Trooper and bounds towards him. On instinct, Rubik steps back and raises his autogun, loosing a long burst which stitches fire all the way up the creatures torso. Those hits won't kill it, but the impacts stop it in its tracks just long enough for Rubik to bring the gun to bear on the creature's head, unloading half a magazine and blowing its face to ribbons. Rubik yells another 'Waaaaa' and swings his gun, clubbing what remains of the creature's head and toppling it into the dust.


New Cult King
23-01-2006, 02:37

The boss Ork goes up in a huge explosion - the girl with the flamer got him good with that promethium tank. She's got some guts, that's for sure. When I heard I was being assigned to a penal legion, I was expecting to be thrown in with a bunch of cowardly low-lives, but the fighting here is proving me wrong.

One of the men runs out of ammo, and as a last ditch effort throws the gun into his assailant's face before being laid low by a powerful punch. The beast is distracted, so I drop a bullet in its eye just as some kind of aerial transport swoops in overhead, rappel ropes unfurling from its belly. The cavalry has arrived...

I see Rubik swat another of the Orks into the dust with the stock of his rifle. I think I'm starting to feel proud to serve with these men and women.

Will wonders never cease?

Tanith Ghost
23-01-2006, 04:31
Grit looked about in satidfaction, pausing to execute a luckless ork in his path.
This sorry collection of scum is good for something besides cannon fodder after all, he mused. Then in front of him, an ork rose, flesh charred grey and black. "Be still. Be dead." Grit declared, as the charred nob strugled to move.
He grabbed the ork's large head, and clenched the power fist into a fist. With a sickly squelching noise, the ork's head was obliterated. Grit punched into the part as-part flesh corpse, and pulled the heart from the ork nob.
An ork made a beeline right for Grit. "You tink yer ard cause you duffed da boss? I'll sqaush ya, ummmie!" Grit lowered his pistol, and holstered it, and beckoned, inviting the ork to charge. The power fist crackled meancingly.
The ork's bellow died as the commisar rammed his arm into the ork's skull, ripping the head clean off.The body ran on, and hit another ork.
Grit tied the topknot to his belt. A grisly trophy. It gave him an idea.
Once the orks were dead, there would be some change to the wall decor.

23-01-2006, 05:21
Charon was right, the Valkyries had arrived. However, the legionairres looked on in horror as each rappel line was attached to a Chelonian soldier, and cried in anguish as they were reeled up inside the belly of the advanced transport. Some tried to take the chelonian's places, only to be butted with rifles or worse.

With the last of them on board, the Hellbenders Arial Cavalry took off.

The battle continued.

Over a dozen ork trukks were on the horizon. Things looked bleak.

Then a miracle. Or a nightmare. It depended on your point of view. The world exploded. A ranging shell from the first Bombard landed home, right in the middle of several of the trukks. A massive explosion, creating a crater 40 feet across, demolished a third of the trukks.

Everyone stopped to look. And noticed the rumble of distant thunder.

The shells were on their way.

Tanith Ghost
23-01-2006, 05:43
A luckless convict's head exploded as Grit fired. "Desertion is a capitol offense." Grit then heard the unmistakeable whistle of incoming artilery. Earth-shaker shells it felt like. "Cover! Get to cover now! Go!" He shouted, grabbing the nearest man by the scruff of the neck and throwing him toward the wall. Bray and Bethany were near the secon breach when Grit arrived. "Let's go! Get under cover! The long arm of the Emperor is on the way!" He motioned for Bray to follow, leading Bethany roughly by the arm. "Get under cover and stay there!" He ordered, leading them to the motor pool. "Reposition to the motor pool now!" He roared at convicts as he went. Ignoring whatever protests Bethany had, he kicked to motor pool door open, and roughly pushed her inside. "Cover! Now!" He said half to her, half to Bray, roughly pushing Bray in after the girl. "Let's go! Move it you scum!" He urged anyone in earshot. "Motor pool! Now!"

New Cult King
23-01-2006, 07:02

I should have known... those cowardly Chelonian scum are deserting us, leaving us as a speedbump in the path of more of those Ork trucks. And now our position is being shelled. Wonderful.

The Commissar is screaming something about the motor pool. I'd better head down there, I don't want to be exposed when those shells start unleashing their hell here, and I know it's more a case of 'when' than 'if'.

I scramble down a pile of rubble that used to be the outer wall and head for the doors leading to the motor pool. I didn't see what kind of vehicles they had in there, but anything has to be better than being on foot right now.

As I stride into the relative coolness of the garage, I can smell oil and steel. I kneel and brace myself against the door jam, trying to line up a shot on one of the truck drivers through one of the gaps in the compound wall, but they are still out of range... damn. I look to the Commissar to see what his next move is.

23-01-2006, 07:05
Bomb Betsy

"Just when my goggles clear, the Commissar grabs me by the arm and don't let go.
I can't hear what he saying. He's dragging me as he's running and my feet are sliding all over the place.

He throws me inside somewhere. I stagger, stumble and fall on my face again.

It reeks of oil and engines in here.

Then I realise we'ere in the motor pool and we must be hidin from something.
But if the commissar is hiding with us, maybe that means we 'should' be hidin and that if we're hiding, then the Orks need somewhere to hide too?

I get my autopistol ready incase anything green comes through the door.
If only we wasn't all soaked in green goo, this would be easier."

23-01-2006, 07:23
As many Legionaires run for the building as they can.

Moments later, Hell is unleashed upon the base. Shell after shell pound it into the ground. Several minutes pass of the bombardment, and all lays still.

GM: You guys made it out ok. There's still a few survivors in the rubble, find anyone who said they were passed out. Still a few orks too. Find and eradicate what you can. You have about 20 minutes (roleplay time, not actual time) to find and collect whatever supplies you can. You have free access to everywhere in the base, but you will not find anything beyond what I posted in the recruitment thread wargear wise before the Lieutennant returns with the Stormtroopers to lock the compound down. The base is a devestated ruin for the most part.

New Cult King
23-01-2006, 07:31
Charons runs and finds Ash, the flamer girl, picks her up and drapes her over his shoulder, making sure her flamer comes too. He carries her to the motor pool garage, and lays her down in the shade.

Then, he grabs Rubik and goes and digs Imentha out of the rubble, the two soldiers carrying the unconscious man back to the garage as well.

Only then does he break his rifle down and clean it as best he can, before reassembling and thanking it.

The battle is over, for now. The Imperials did more damage to this place than the Orks did, but if those other trucks had arrived, there'd be nobody here left to defend. My headache has suddenly subsided, and I feel clear headed and jittery, still riding out the last waves of adrenaline. I sit in the shade and take a swig of my canteen, the water stale and tasting of tin, but still heavenly in my parched mouth. This is going to be a long war, one I'll be lucky to survive...

23-01-2006, 08:28
Bomber Betsy
"The shelling was over and everyone ran outside to help with the hurt and buried people.
I tried to help, but just sorta got it in the way. So me's gonna scav some stuff. Hee hee!

There are plenty of autoguns strewn about the place. I take one that looks in pretty good shape. It's real heavy, but I think I can manage...

I see an enormous Orky axe, but it's too heavy to lift. I'm sad cos I would have had fun with it otherwise. It's taller than I am!"

23-01-2006, 08:33
"I see that crazy kid trying to lift what looks like a peice of scrap.
Makes me wonder if some poor soul's trapped under there, so I run over.

Well I'll be fragged! It's the biggest glaive I've ever seen.
A fine, strappin' fella like myself could never turn down a weapon like that.

Now to figure out how to strap the damn thing to myself."

Tanith Ghost
23-01-2006, 13:34
Grit surveyed the carnage in the base. Total havoc had been wrought by the artilery. The Hellbenders leaving by air had only egged on the orks to swarm the place. When the full salvo hit, the orks got the brunt of it. Dead greenskins lay everywhere. A few live ones too. Grit's bolt pistol came up from the holster, and a bolt shot signaled the summary execution of a wounded ork. "Kill any greens the artilery missed. Grit ordered, killing a second ork by ripping it's head off. The ork, minus all limbs, was helpless. A less helpless foe howled a chalenge to Grit and charged from the lee of the wall. Grit's bolt pistol answered once, and another ork dropped dead.

23-01-2006, 14:34
Rubik heads out into the wreckage of the compund again, supposedly checking the area for survivors, but its mostly an excuse to get out from under the Commissar's nose for a moment or two. His eyes are more interested in anything useful he can scavenge than trying to find more Orks to kill. He's not in luck though, the artillery pounding hasn't left much intact. A spare magazine of autogun ammo from the body of a legionnaire is clipped to his belt, the only spoils of this war.

As Rubik steps past the ruined walls, a pile of rubble beside him shifts. Quick as a flash, he turns and bears his autogun. Another movement, and a hand reaches slowly out. A human hand, in a tattered black glove. Rubik crouches and pulls away a layer of ferrocrete. Two mirrored visors, filmed with dust and scratched in a dozen places turn to look up. Chelonians.

Rubik nearly shoots them himself. Those rat-bastards abandoned the Penals and bailed to their comfy transports when things got rough, he doesn't owe them any favours. But... well, these two were abandoned as well, I guess. Besides, you never know who might be looking over my shoulder, so I'd better behave myself.

Rubik hooks his autogun behind his shoulder to clear away more of the debris, stretches his hand out to grab one of them by the edge of their carapace, and drags them into the sunlight, then reaches in for the other one. He doesn't know if they're injured, doesn't really care.

They don't say a word, just stand there shaking dust and rubble from their uniforms. Yeah, don't mention it. any time. "Aren't you boys forgetting something?" Rubik asks loudly, and pulls two autoguns from their temporary tombs and thrust the weapons into their unsteady hands. "Just in case your mob decides to actually do any fighting in this war. Might come in useful at some point."

Their visors must be faulty, as he can read their expressions under that mirror perfectly. "Screw you, Penal scum" replies one of them, eventually.

"You wish, glory boy". Rubik laughs and spits on the ground between them, and walks away.


23-01-2006, 16:54
Elizabeth groaned and rolled over onto her side. It felt like she'd been beaten all over. It wasn't a very pleasent feeling, and she should know.....she'd been smacked around more times than she'd had hot meals. But that was nothing new. When you're an utter bitch, you can expect such things.

Groggily, Elizabeth blinked her eyes open. Her vision swam from the blow to her head, but on the positive side, the temperature was slightly less wherever the hell she was.

Coughing up phlegm and dust from being almost buried alive, Elizabeth reached in her pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

'Oh yeah!' she wheezed to herself as she inhaled the first draw of smoke, glad she was alive to do that simple action yet again.

23-01-2006, 22:43
114-7-EATH was trying to pry open a service panel on the truck to see if he could do some damage just when it made a wide right turn and was flung far agaisnt the wall. when he hit he made a soft wet sound agaisnt the wall and putting his hand on the back of his head. came out with some blood his vison started to go burly but he forced him self to get up he had to other wise he would die thats something he didn't want to do anytime soon.

Grabbing his pistol he aimed at the frist green thing he saw and pulled on the trigger doing a double tap sending two bullets into what looked like its chest and then shoot one at its head.

form what he could tell the one to the head missed other wise the ork would have been dead. Much like that Chaos Virus on Edad you had to shoot them in the head to bring those poor souls down.

Grand Warlord
23-01-2006, 23:10
Mack continued to patrol the area with his gun in a more or less relaxed position. No point in using ammo on the dead when the scared soldiers of the scumdogs were doing it in droves, he nodded to the flamer girl as he walked past. Most of the veterans had made it out alive which he was grateful. He use to enjoy flamer throwers until one had jammed on him and nearly melted his face off..

Hearing the order from the Commissar he made his way to the designated Motorcade area. He checked his gear over and manage to scrounge some extra grenades from people who didn't need them anymore tossing some to Betsy ... who seemed to really enjoy blowing things up ... made him proud.

Hate Train
23-01-2006, 23:32
Chris remained still. Not that he could move. His left leg was non-existant, though he could feel it there was no amount of flesh beyond a wriggling stump. He could feel his left arm twitching, it seemed to be broken. His right arm was ripped off at the elbow, but so packed with dirt and grit was the wound that it had ceased to bleed long ago. Chris's right leg still felt some pain, but he was mostly numb all over. He could feel a light breeze on his face and the sky was all he could see. Chris closed his eyes, attempting to relax.

24-01-2006, 00:58
Lance placed one of the tanks in his flamer, he had scrounged some more from corpses and the rubble. He walked a little way behind Grit engulfing the corspe filled rubble with fire when he saw an Ork twitch or stand. He had his autopistol ready in his right hand as he walked through the wreckage, he was taking no chances.
He saw a human hand in the wreckage and tugged at it, hoping to bring the person out of the loos rubble. He pulled hard and was rewarded buy a head being dragged out of the rubble, Lance spat on the ground fighting back gagging where the torso stoped above the waist and entrails leaked out from the rubble.
The rocks infront of him moved suddenly as a wounded Ork flailed his choppa around madly at the dust trying to kill some imaginary foe. Lance's finger tihghtend around the autopistol and it cut a hole through the Orks head. When Lance calmed himself from the initial shock and coughed up large clouds of dirt he set about torching the body the smell of charcoled flesh filled his nostrils and forced him to gag again.

Tanith Ghost
24-01-2006, 03:18
Grit was unsure when re-enforcements were due in. "Medic, attend this casualty!" He called to the legion medic and indicating Chris. Grit, taking note of the intact buildings, selected a small room near the armory as his office, and set up a desk, with two barrels and wood planks. He then went around the compound, and speaking with a select few soldiers, calling them to his makeshift office. "Futhermore, when the Hellbender Commander gets here,
tell him to report to me on the double."

Grit sat behind his new desk, and began to mark down the numbers of legionaire dead, both for crimes and by enemy action. He set his pistol on the desk as well. The Hellbender commander had better have a good excuse for running out on the battle. Failure to produce such an explanation would have severe consequenses.

OOC//I'd like to see everyone in my office for a minute, including Altan.

Grand Warlord
24-01-2006, 03:55
Knocking gently on this door Private Mack stepped into the Commissars Office making a small salute to Grit.

"Reporting as requested Sir!"

Standing at full attention his weapon around his back looking straight ahead.

OOC: Off to bed ... night all.

Tanith Ghost
24-01-2006, 04:06
"Private Mack." Grit acknowledged, returning the salute. "Sterling performance. Good salute too. Given your obvious disipline, your crime was not one of that nature. Continue to show courage in battle, and faith in downtime, and you will earn your pardon and a transfer to a unit of your choice." Grit showed Mack the pardon papers. "Upon completion of this campaign, these will be yours, with my signature. I belive you have the skill to acomplish this and prove your worth to the Golden Throne. Don't let me down, son."

New Cult King
24-01-2006, 04:49

The Commissar has requested I see him... I wonder what this could be about. I sling my rifle across my back and enter his makeshift office. I stand to attention, staring at the wall behind him, just to the left of his head, and salute, "Sir!"

If he's called me in here to put a bullet in my face, I would have rathered he did it on the battlefield.

Tanith Ghost
24-01-2006, 05:26
"Charon. At ease." Grit returned the salute. "I called you in here to see what's in store for you. These are pardon papers. Yours, if you continue to fight the way you have so far, and live this campaign." Grit indicated a set of papers, bearing the Sniper's name. "A second chance. A full pardon and tansfer to a unit of your choice. And all you need do is prove yourself worthy of this forgiveness." He explained. "You know full well what I expect of you. I know you will not disapoint."

New Cult King
24-01-2006, 06:28
So, I have a way out of this hell. Interesting. I wonder what exactly it'll take, how much blood will need to be spilled before this pardon is granted...

I salute again, and bark "Sir, yes sir!" The Commissar dismisses me, and I wander outside.

It might only be a pinpoint, but at least there is a light at the end of this tunnel. If I survive that long...

24-01-2006, 08:42
Elizabeth scowled at Mack as he past, many of them seemed to treat her like a familiar....but that was one thing she wan't.
I guess I might have to teach some that lesson yet AGAIN!

Unsteadily, Elizabeth got up though she was still a touch wobbly on her feet. A mild concussion was the safest bet in her mind. And with that being the case, Elizabeth wanted more than anything just to find somewhere quiet and preferably a bit softer to sleep. But as with some much, she was denied even that simple pleasure.

'Commissar wants to see us all' was the general word around the group. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. This was just what she didn't need. And no doubt it'd be some sort of review of the days performance.
God-Emperor spare me!

So Elizabeth joined the line. She wasn't impressed. Elizabeth had known how she'd fought and what she'd done, she didn't need some part-time pencil pusher to tell her that....and certainly not some over-zealous, trumped up, pyscho member of the Commissariat, as if there were any other kind from such a blood thirsty institution.

As she waited Elizabeth ground her teeth in annoyance. There were things she needed to do while she was namby-pambying around and jumping through these ridiculous hoops. But it seemed that such a small detail as getting well and prepared for the next onslaught, whenever that would be, wasn't as good as some condesending post-match comment and possible pre-next fight pep talk.

24-01-2006, 08:58
Bomber Betsy

I knock gently on the door, then enter.
Comissar grit is sitting comfortably in a chair, his hand never straying too far from the large bolt pistol sitting on the desk.

I approach the desk cautiously, then stand to attention as tall and straight as I can. I throw a salute and cautiously rest my new autogun on my shoulder.

"Sir! Yes Sir!"

Tanith Ghost
24-01-2006, 15:34
"Trooper Bethany. At ease." Grit returned the salute. "You've been called in here to see something you might want." Grit produced a few pages of paper from at stack on his desk. "Pardon papers. A get out of jail free card." He indicaded the name of the soldier to be pardoned. "These will be yours, with my signature, if you complete this campaign. They will release you from this penal unit, to be transferred to an Imperial Guard unit of your choice.
Many of these units are quite fond of explosives." Grit pulled out one more
slip of paper. "Take this supply requisition to the armory, and gather everything listed. This requisition is your license to do so."
The list was for autogun ammunition, sniper rounds, promethium, and large quantities of explosives. "Dismissed. Send Edger in on your way out."

24-01-2006, 16:27
Hassar Valen Rubik:

There's a crowd gathering in the armoury. Interesting. I wonder what this can be about? I look quizzically at a nearby Legionnaire, a man named Thamos, and nod my head towards the door of that office. "What's going on through there?"

"The commissar wants to see us all, one at a time."

"Does he have his pistol loaded?" I reply. Thamos grins. "Couldn't tell you, Hassar. I've not heard any shooting yet though."

I head down there. If the Commissar wants to blow my brains out then blow my brains out he will, only one way to find out. Mack walks away from out of the door and passes me. No bolt shell lodged in his skull as far as I can tell, and he looks kind of pleased, so I guess it must be good news. I take a position behind the rest, brush a layer of dust from my uniform and rifle(a futile gesture in these conditions, really, but its a habit as much as anything), and await my destiny.


24-01-2006, 21:20

I see the crowd gathering out side the armory and i follow Rubik and i over hear that no shots have go off yet and that the commisar wants to see us individually. I lean up to Rubik and say "Whats going on?"

24-01-2006, 22:46
Hassar Valen Rubik:

"Not sure, Ben. The Black Hat has summoned us all for a little chat. Maybe we're getting a pay rise!" I smile stupidly. Another Legionnaire heads through the door. Won't be long until its my turn.


24-01-2006, 23:12
114-7-EATH hears the head boss call them alll into his office pulling out a small needle of adrinle he had been abel to smullge in his thigh slammeing it into his leg his vison isnantly cleared up. cloughing up some blood he toss's the needle to the ground and steped on it. who know what would happen if ome one knew he had smuggled drugs.

running into the office he bumbed into one of the scumdogs.

"114-7-EATH reporting"

25-01-2006, 00:46
(OOC: When Lance gets into Grits office)

Lance walked into Grits office and brought his goggles onto his head, his face was coverd in ash and dust. He stood up straight and gave a weak salute. Still nauceaus from the battle and the aftermath, he had finished burning a pile of Orc bodies and could taste the foul ash in his throat "Sir, you wanted to see us?"

Tanith Ghost
25-01-2006, 05:41
"Trooper 112-7-EATH and Trooper Lance." Grit saluted curtly. "At ease." He went into the stack of paper, and produced two sets of papers. "Men, take a look at these. Pardon papers. They are a release from servitude, and a return from scum status to human. Less than beast to servant of the Throne again."
He let it sink in. Any who prove themselves worthy by courage and blood will be pardoned and given transfer to any Imperial Guard unit of their choosing. You know what I expect. Dimissed." He went back to his work, pausing only to bark out "Trooper Rubik! Your turn."

25-01-2006, 10:25
I knocked gently on the door.
I hear the Commissar call me in to the office.

I put the axe down on the floor and stand to attention and salut the officer.

"Sorry I'm late sir".

Standing at full attention, I await what ever come to me.

25-01-2006, 10:51
I march through the door, snapping instinctively into the parade-ground automaton mode they beat into me when I joined up. I've seen the others leaving in one piece, so I'm not as worried as I might otherwise be. Grit has his pistol on the desk, not in his hand, which is also a good sign.

I stop before the desk, give my best salute. "Legionnaire Rubik, reporting as ordered, SIR!"


25-01-2006, 16:38
Bomber Betsy
"I begin handing out supplies to everyone who leaves the Commissar's office in one piece.

Awww, man! This job sucks!
But on the bright side, I get first dibs on all the stash. Heh heh.

I got my hands on a spare canteen and filled it with paraffin. I bet it'll come in handy later."

Tanith Ghost
25-01-2006, 17:48
"At ease, men." Grit returned the salute. "As you can tell by the lack of gunfire, you haven't been called in here for summary execution. No, this is more an explanation of your possible fates. As you've no doubt seen, failure to abide by regulations, lack of disipline, and cowardice will result in death.
Even the example this morning was for a reason. However, while crime is ruthlessly punished, valor is rewarded." Grit pulled two sets of papers from a stack on his desk. "Pardon papers. Assigned to Trooper Bray, and Trooper Rubik. You. Upon the completion of the campaign, you will be granted a pardon. This depends on how bravely you fight, and how you conduct yourself. Prove yourself worthy to be a servant of the Throne again, and you will be free. All crimes pardoned and a transfer to a Guard unit of your choice." He let it sink in on the two convicts. "You know what you have to do. Dimissed." He put the finishing touches on the report concerning the skirmish with the orks. "Trooper Edger! My office, now!"

25-01-2006, 19:53
As RUbik Walks out the door i walk up to him. What was that all about?

25-01-2006, 20:09
Hassar Valen Rubik:

As I leave the office, I think I'm in shock. Not sure whether its because of the prospect of a pardon, or because it sounded like the Commissar made a joke. As I head out into the daylight again Eisendarth asks me what happened.

"Not sure if I should spoil the surprise, Ben, but it sounds like pardons all round, once this tour is over."

Betsy pushes a bundle of frag grenades and some extra autogun magazines into my hands. I mumble a "thanks" absent mindedly, but my mind is on other things.

A full pardon. That, I was not expecting. I rack my brain trying to think of the most peaceful, undisturbed garrison regiment in the Imperium to be transferred into. That would do nicely, I've done my share of fighting already. Or maybe I could get put in with the Chelonians, just to **** them off. Heh.

First things first, though. There's the small matter of an Ork Waagh to break up first. But, well, how hard can that be? Ghazghkull Thraka himself isn't going to stand in between me and a ticket out of this hellhole. I stop. For the first time, this ragtag bunch of criminals and no-hopers have something to fight for. Oh, of course, we're all fighting to redeem our immortal souls in the eyes of the Emperor, and all the other stuff the preachers drill into us whenever they get the chance. But a way out of the Penals, apart from feet first? That's something real. Something tangible, something other than the knowledge that when I eventually put a foot wrong and catch a bullet with my name on, the Emperor will shed a tear in my memory. The whole Legion will fight twice as hard now, because they're fighting for their freedom, not just because the Lieut tells us to.

And Grit knows it. Of course he knows it, he's a Black Hat. And his job is to motivate the troops, by any means necessary. This could all be a deception, a way to ensure that we give our all in this war, only for our promised freedom to be snatched away at the end of it, if any of us are even left alive. Its not as though a Commissar is going to be above lying to convicts.

I turn to Bray and mutter, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Do you think he means it?"


26-01-2006, 00:59
114-7-EATH looked at the paper it looked offical but what did it really mean. well once he was on a space ship he could hide his self away and then escape once he saw the chance. he felt his pistol it was allmost empty and with out any clips on him he needed some ammo.

walking up to the Commissar and tapped him on the sholder.

"Sir I need to resupply my weapons to be at full captciay to fight sir! with you permisson sir i shall get the weapons i need form the armoury"

26-01-2006, 01:03
Elizabeth stepped into the office. She was dirty, bloody, probably concused and she couldn't care less.

'Permission to speak........sir.' she added with an almost covered hint of displeasure.

Tanith Ghost
26-01-2006, 04:15
"See Trooper Bethany. She's in charge of supply." Grit informed EATH. Then Edger entered. "Dimissed, EATH. At ease, Edger." Grit said, ignoring the fact she forgot to salute. She asked permission to speak."
"Granted. First though, the reason I called you here. This will prove to be worht your time." He said, showing her a set of Pardon papers. "This documentation represents a full pardon." The name on the papers was clear.
Trooper Elizibeth Edger. "You don't have to like me. But you will obey me, and if you can manage to do that and survive, you will be free of this penal outfit, with a transfer to a unit of your choice. Even your old regiment, if you so wish." He went back to his work. "Now, what did you wish to say?"

26-01-2006, 05:15
"Throne on Earth, there are survivors down there!" muttered the Hellbender door gunner as his Valkyrie flew over what used to be Savior's Roost. The demolition of the fort was total, the greenskin mob obliterated in a single minute of concentrated artilliery strikes. People moved amongst the rubble, finding survivors, finishing those who were too far gone to save, collecting and burning orkish corpses.

Out of an initial Imperial Presence of nearly 100 men, less than a quarter remained alive. 18 men and women of the Scumdogs remained alive, along with the Lieutennant, Grit, Altan, and several Chelonians left behind.

Altan heard the call go out from Grit's office, and knew what he was going to pull. Rather than waiting, he just flung the door open and barged right in.

The Lieutennant was busy working with the Chelonians, directing the search and rescue.

Almost on cue, 4 Valkyries swooped in. Two contained squads of the Chelonian Hellbenders, the elite Stormtroopers of the Regiment, and the other two contained the Chelonian officer and the evacuated Chelonian personell.

They deployed, and immediately began to secure the area, confiscating weaponry in order to transfer the survivors to the rest of the Legion. Protests and downright refusals were forcibly ignored, and anything visibly dangerous was taken from the rank and file. The survivors were loaded into large convoy trucks, and everyone prepared to move out.

GM: If anyone is in the middle of something, finish it up, and get in the trucks. When we're ready to move, I'll get us on our way. There are two trucks, each can hold about 2 dozen men, but since we're so decimated, just fill in. Odds are half of each of you will be on a different truck.

Tanith Ghost
26-01-2006, 05:33
"About Time, Altan." Grit Said, looking up at the big man, and secretly relisihing Trooper Edger's disgust. "Edger, We can talk later. Dismissed."
He kept a stern face, but enjoyed her annoyance. "Altan, I'm going to be frank. Parole is unlikely, even if I push for it. However, for now, I'm entrusting you with leadership of these scum. When we relink with the rest of the legion, you're in charge of a platoon. That said, Trooper Edger and Trooper Rubik would make ideal squad leaders. Trooper Bethany is in charge of arms and ammunition, so I'll need you to see the men respect her. Give her a squad when you think she's ready." Grit finished. "That will be all. Dimissed, and send the Hellbender Co in here pronto." Grit curtly saluted, and returned to the papers for the munitorium on ammo use in the battle.

26-01-2006, 05:38
Altan nodded. He knew he wasn't getting out of this fraggin' outfit.

Exiting the Munitorium, he patrolled the grounds until he saw the Hellbender CO. The man was easily recognised by his lack of a helmet, and a peaked officer's cap in place. An ornate power sword hung at his side.

Altan sidled right on up to him. "Yo." he growled, softly. Altan was about 6" taller, and outweighed the man by a good hundred pounds. "The Man in Black wants to see you. Munitorium. Pronto."

"Why I never!" gasped the officer. He reached for his scabbard. "I'll teach you who to order around, scum!"

Altan got his hand over the man's before he could draw, and slowly put pressure on it. You could hear knuckles and joints popping. He squeezed for emphasis, and grinned as the officer winced. "Now. I'd hate to have to get angry."

Tanith Ghost
26-01-2006, 06:01
Grit looked up to see his quarry finaly enter. The Hellbender CO sullenly walked in. Grit's hand moved toward the pistol. The man saluted. "That's better." Grit said, returning the salute. "Now then. Name and Rank."
"Captain Herman Skyretrunt." The Man replied. "Captain are you aware you left men behind?" "Wh-" "Are you aware you actions could be considered cowardice?" "How dare-" "Most importantly, are you aware not showing a Commisar due respect can have severe consequenses?" Grit picked up the pistol. Skyretrunt stopped sputtering and fell silent. "Your performance in this battle was less than examplary. My report on the battle will say as much. See you do better in the future, or you'll have me to deal with. And you know full well what will happen if I find you wanting." The pistol's bark caused Skyretrunt to jump in alarm as Grit fired it at an ork head hanging from the roof. The ork head exploded in a shower of gore, splattering Skyretrunt with brains and blood. "Now get out of my sight. You are dismissed, Skyretrunt."
Grit put the pistol into his holster, and put the finishing touch on the report.
He was set to leave.

26-01-2006, 11:00
Elizabeth snorted with laughter.

'Then I have nothing to say to you anymore, ever...... except 'yes' and 'no' and some form of report, should you ask it of me. After all, this is a prison not a break at the water cooler for a gossip.'

Elizabeth turned smartly on her heels and marched out, perpusely shouldering into Altan as she left

26-01-2006, 11:40

To Rubik question I just shrug my shoulders and go to pick up some surplys from Bomber Betsy. She look up set to handing out Grenades.
She gives me six and I hand her three back out of kindness. I don't need that many after all they give me flashbacks. The less I have of them the better. I put them on the back of belt so I don't have to look at them.

I take a swig of a cantine of water thats being passed around our little group. The water taste so good in the heat and so I pass it on to Rubik.

I await the next order

26-01-2006, 12:18
Takes the Canteen from Bray. Thanks man!" The cool water flows down My throat and quenches his thirst. "Hey man have you heard anything from the Black hat on our next mission or are we just going to stand around as the orks come at us from all sides?"I look at Bray

26-01-2006, 12:38
grappings a autorifle and some fresh clip's form betsy he made his way to the truck.

sitting there he begun to think about what had gotten him here.

"I DON'T CARE IF THE SHIPS ABOUT TO FALL APART WERE DOING THIS!!" 114-7-EATH yelled at some of the crew on the bridge most of them were dead. holding onto the controls of the ship he was surpised they all hadn't expolded yet.
"INCOMEING MISSLE'S!" some one yelled on the bridge. He saw them trying to evade them he dodged one but then one his his star board.
"seal the bulkheads aslong as they don;t hit us we'll be fine" he tried to ease the crew but it wasn't working he could tell. the engines were about to fall apart but they were close enough.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!!!" 114-7-EATH yelled as they smashed into the underside of the battleship. the charges he had set on the nose of the escort begun to go off then he blacked out

snapped back form his daydream he looked around the truck had turned its self on as black soot came out form its engine. if this thing falls apart he could fix it but he wouldn;t have a chance if the orks found them before he was done.

26-01-2006, 17:34
Hassar Valen Rubik:

I take the canteen from the next trooper in our circle and knock it back. Its more or less the only thing those bastard Chelonians have deemed harmless enough to let us keep, though I'm sure I could use it to damage one of them fairly seriously if I got the chance. Wow, I hadn't realised just how dehydrated I was until now.

Hellbenders start motioning us towards the transports, and it doesn't look like we get much say in the matter. Our group shuffles over into the back of a truck. Inside, its hot, stuffy, noisy, smoky and rattling. No expense spared, as to be expected. Still, at least they're not making us walk, wherever it is we're going. I spread myself out and make myself comfortable, there's plenty of space so why not. Maybe I can get some sleep on the journey.


26-01-2006, 18:22
Bomber Betsy
I get on one of the trucks and sit opposite Bray and his newly acquired weapon, which he has sat down next to him like it's his girl or somethin.

Tanith Ghost
26-01-2006, 18:46
Grit surveyed the ruined compound. "Let's go, get the lead out!" He roared
at a knot of Chelonians. Despite the resentful glares, they doubled their pace.
"Altan, you're on Truck one!" He directed Altan toward the first transport.
He headed for the second transport himself, motioning for a half dozen legionares to follow. He climbed up into the back of the Truck. He slected a place and began to read through his report on the ork attack and subsequent artilery strike. "Aprox 300-340 enemy dead. 85-90 Imperial dead. Base suffered 17% damage to xeno causes and 70% to artilery fire. Base currently 13% intact." He muttered, ameding the report in places, placing his signature on the last page.

Hate Train
26-01-2006, 22:51
Much to Grit's surprise a slurred voice came from behind him. "C-Cawmmissar, wuzz 'appenin'?"
The sight that confronted him was rather unpleasant, apparently Penal troops didn't mean much, not even to the medical crew who took care of them. Chris Imentha stood a slight bit unsteadily. His jaw was braced with a roughly pounded out cage of metal and there was a bandage wrapped diagonally around his head so as to hide his disfigured right eye. In a sling his left arm hung suspended just above his waist, while the cauterized stump of his right arm lay just opposite. More stunning was the missing lower three fourths of his left leg which no doubt was contributing to his unsteadiness. The penal legionaire was shirtless, and there was a tremendous gash in his uncovered torso that had been poorly sewn shut. His breathing was heavy and labored.

26-01-2006, 23:16
Elizabeth wandered outside into a patch of shade and sat down, a cigarette already in her mouth as she watched the cargo getting moved.

No doubt they'd be departing soon and she wasn't much help with all the heavy equipment. She was trained in it's use or maintenance so it was best for her to remain out of the way.

As she watched, Elizabeth began to clean her flamer, loveling polishing as many scorch marks off it has she could.

26-01-2006, 23:20
114-7-EATH happened to be in the same truck that grit shambled into he could tell the man was in pain and in his current state he wouldn;t be of any use. once they disembarked form the truck he would offer the man a little stimm pack to help him become at least be able to fire a gun.

he heard the report of the base it could have been worse much much worse

27-01-2006, 00:11
OOC: Maybe someone would like to clarify just who is in which truck.

Hate Train
27-01-2006, 00:22
OOC: At the moment I am just outside of the trucks speaking to Commissar Grit.

Grand Warlord
27-01-2006, 01:55
Sitting Down mack really doesnt speak ... nodding to the vets in the squad.

OOC: sorry working on my college agenda ... more later

Tanith Ghost
27-01-2006, 05:36
"Trooper Imentha." Grit acknowledged with a nod. "Chirgions finished with you I see." Grit offered a hand up, helping the convict aboard the truck. "Your wounds are quite grievious. If you wish, I will grant you the Emperor's peace."
Grit said. "Hang on though. Keep your mind on your pardon. The Emperor protects his faithful." He took into account the man's question. "We're moving out. Where, I don't know."

Hate Train
27-01-2006, 05:46
Imentha nodded at the Commissar, then said, "Thanz ferr the offerr, buh I alright." Then he mutely stared into the floor of the truck.

OOC: On board truck mit Bethany, Bray, 114-7 EATH, and Altan.

New Cult King
27-01-2006, 07:16
Charon climbs into the same truck as Grit.

27-01-2006, 11:27

To Eisendarth Question I ignore as he stole the canteen as I was handing to someone else. Anyway what would I know.
Info looks to be need to know any way and we don't need to know yet.
I jump on the transport with the axe. The one weapon was found to be too heavy for the Chelonian trooper to left with everything else he had on him. It was blunt needed some tlc.
I just sit and sharpen the very blunt blade. No point going in to battle with a weapon that is as blunt as a peble.

27-01-2006, 17:32
With a clean flamer,, Elizabeth slung it on her back and wondered over tot he truck, climbing in it without much trouble.

Her balance was still a little off, but she didn't care.

27-01-2006, 19:07
Bombert Betsy
"Come on! When we going to get this freak show rolling?"

Tanith Ghost
27-01-2006, 19:50
Grit tapped the window to the driver's compartment. "Driver, move out. That's an order." He said, the tone unmistakeably a no-arguments one.
The Truck rumbled to life and started out the gate. "What's the destination?"
Grit asked casualy. The driver knew better than to refuse. "The Hive city sir.
You outfit is being redeployed." Grit closed the window with no firther comment.

27-01-2006, 23:40
114-7-EATH check his weapon it looked like it would work fine but on full auto it might jam up.

28-01-2006, 01:41

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29-01-2006, 01:13
The trucks arrived at Hive Tertius. They got out, and were escorted into the Convict's quarters. Barracks, mess hall, showers, etc.

GM: No time for a post, industrial setting, get settled in and re-up on equiptment, food, whatever you need. Get some rest, tomorrow we go into the Underhive.

Hate Train
29-01-2006, 06:27
Chris lowered himself off the truck carefully. Then he hopped his way with the rest of the unit to the new barracks. Upon arriving he instantly collapsed into a bunk and lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Tanith Ghost
29-01-2006, 06:53
Grit hopped down from the truck, taking in the hive city. A far cry from home to be sure. He'd been raised in a ferral society simaler to the myths of a city that used to exist on Ancient Terra. He was sure though, that it was a myth. The spartans the myths described were too powerful to be human. Only the
Astartes came close to the prowess of these warriors.

Of course, here in the hive, the level of violence was the same as the militiristic society that raised him. While cruder and lacking in disiplne, it produced hardened fighters. The gangs here were prime guard recruits for it.
Their lack of disipline could be remendied with the right level of Commisariate

Grit led the way, motioning for the prisioners to follow. "Take your bunks, get your gear squared away, and be ready. We're not here for sight-seeing."
He said, all buisiness and no-nonsese. "Clean up too. We were just attacked by orks and hit by imperial artilery."

Grit selected the best office in the block for his own, and set his gear down there. Neither the Lt. or Altan should have much to say to a black hat, after all. He set up his reports and paperwork on the polished wooden desk in the room, taking a moment to admire the crafsmanship and color. The black of the wood still showed the grain, matching his jacket like a wooden counterpart. It would **** off Lt.Balsac to no end that Grit had the good desk.
More importantly, it would be a nice way to keep him in check. The Lt, and Altan to an extent, might command the regiment, but Grit held the ultimate authority over them too.

Even the top dog has a leash to pull. Altan may be a thug, but he's broken on my will by his own brutality. He obeys me because I give him the dirty work he craves. Permission to commit murder, and call it justice. Thank the throne for brutes like him. He'll kill this metal jawed upstart in a heartbeat if I command him to. The Lt himself on the other hand.....

Grit considered for a moment. Claiming this office was a good way to start.
Laying down the law. Now he'd wait and see how much Balsac chalenged him.
It'd do well to gauge his character, and show just how much he was intimidated by Grit's menacing presence.

29-01-2006, 10:02
Bomber Betsy

"It feels just like bein back home."

New Cult King
29-01-2006, 11:28

If you've seen one hive city, you've seen them all. A festering dung heap made of metal and plasteel, layers upon layers of industrious little bugs seething through its belly. A few details might change here and there, but it's all the same when you're in the guts of one of these monstrosities, fighting for your life against the degenerate scum that thrive in the shadows.

I shoulder my bag, and grab a bunk. No sense making myself too comfortable - it's a man's life in the Imperial Guard after all. Hah. So they'd have me believe. I know we'll see action soon enough. I don't expect to live through this at all...

29-01-2006, 16:06
Jump of the truck make for dash for a soft and comfy bed. I'm so tired from the trip.
After a short nap I re fill the canteen and check my weapons.
Being back in the Hive great I start to think about all the good times I had when I was a humble bounty hunter.
I've been to all the major hives. when your chasing your work you get a lot of travel in.

29-01-2006, 19:14
Hassar Valen Rubik:

I haul myself up to one of the bunks, and go through my kit, downing most of the contents of one of my canteens before refilling it. I've got my guns and grenades and ammo back, which is the most important thing. My stubgun doesn't need much attention, its one of the Varoth models, built to last forever regardless of how bad you treat it, reliable as a hunting dog. The autogun is another matter, they're sensitive things, so I strip the casing off and take a rag to it, cleaning away the mountains of dust that have accumilated inside. Boring monotonous work, but having the thing jam up on me when there's a dozen Orks yelling in my face wouldn't be clever.


Grand Warlord
30-01-2006, 03:18

Mack sat down on his bunk and took inventory on his equipment making mental notes when it came to ammo and any rations he may have 'acquired'. He cleaned his autogun and loaded it so that it was ready to fire laying it under his pillow, well as much as possible, and then went to clean himself up and laid down not sure when or if he would sleep.

30-01-2006, 20:50
In strode the lieutennant, still covered in the dust of the day.

"Atten-hut!" yelled one of his aides. All the Legionairres present fired out of their bunks.

"Gentlemen, Welcome to Hell." spoke the Lieutennant. "Or more exactly, Hive Tertius. Adeptus Mechanicus Hive Citius, if you will" he said, chuckling at his own alliteration. "We are here, at the Mechanicus request, to track down orkish Kommandos who are looting and burning at will. They seem to be collecting equiptment out of the Underhive. You're expendable, so you guys get to go in after them. Questions?"

GM: We're forming into groups. Half of the player characters are in one squad, half in the other. We have one other squad of NPCs I will be controlling. There will be 2 other squads of NPCs that I will also take care of for patrolling. All troopers will be fitted with locators on a small blast collar. If you try to run, we will detonate your head.

You have access to the armory, load up, and we're moving out. Grit is in command of one squad, Altan the other. For now. The Commisar will take us into the Underhive.

30-01-2006, 20:52
OOC: I have dropped

31-01-2006, 01:50
OOC: Read recuitment thread. Time to make a choice.

Grand Warlord
31-01-2006, 13:59

Getting up at the 'request' of the captain he received his orders and moved to the meeting area with the commissar ... this was gonna be interesting.

"Ready to serve the Emperor, Sir!"

Tanith Ghost
31-01-2006, 18:32
"Into the underhive." Grit mused aloud. "My troops, skirmish formation." He ordered over the comm net. "We're proceeding to the first killzone." Grit waved a squad forward into step with him. "To hell with the cogboys' plan.
We're going to make the orks come to us." He said, on private channel.
"I want word passed to every gang we meet the guard are moving in to secure a big prize from the underhive. Something that could win the war here." As Grit's squad moved into the gloom, they were told not to bother with stealth. "We want to Orks to know we're here." He explained. "they may be a mockery of our special ops troops, but they're still greens. They can't resist a good scrap." Grit hilighted the point by rousting a pair of under hivers out of the way at gunpoint. "Mack, you're with me on point." Grit instructed, leading the way past a wrecked processor.

31-01-2006, 19:51
Hassar Valen Rubik:

The Commissar's squad begins to move through the gate and down the roadway, leaving us behind. Altan watches him for a moment, then turns to us.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Move, worms! The Commissar's gonna be pissed if you're still stood here gawping at the scenery when he comes back!". He laughs out loud, and waves us along with his autogun. I double check my kit quickly and we head into the depths, guns at the ready.


Grand Warlord
31-01-2006, 19:55
"Yes sir"

He pulled out his weapon keeping pace with the Commissar gun at the ready incase whatever was bound to happen, espeically concerning orks, happened.

New Cult King
01-02-2006, 08:14

I gear up. First choice is, of course, my rifle. I also grab a pair of autopistols and a handful of frag grenades - deep in the guts of a Hive City, the fighting can get awfully close and personal. A sniper rifle is no use at times like that. I also manage to gank myself a long combat knife, similar to the ones in pict-captures I've seen of jungle fighters.

I follow the Commissar, intrigued by his plan. He's drawing the greenskins into direct conflict with us. I can see how that would work in one respect - we'd be fighting on our terms, on ground we've chosen. However, I've learned not to trust Imperial estimates of enemy numbers or capabilities, so we might just be bringing a whole lot of hell down on our heads.

I take up a position to the rear of the squad, and I fade out to the right a little, giving me a greater field of fire if needs be. The Commissar is stomping ahead on point, that flashy power fist of his crackling - an irresistable prize for one of these greenskin kommandos. I am scanning ahead as best I can - the glow globes down here are unreliable at the best of times, and our way is barely illuminated. Shadows jump and skitter in the strobing of some of the globes, and I'm really on edge. I've seen what these bastards can do now.

I'm determined not to let them do it to me.

Tanith Ghost
01-02-2006, 14:02
Grit, in front, skirted an old hab unit. "Bethany, on point with me. Three frags at the ready." He instructed. The juve scurried to join him. "Mack, the second a hostile shows his face, supressing fire. Bethany, when he starts firing, move in and grenade the enemy. I'll be with you to finish them off."
As they moved through a ruin, they found the lights gone in the next zone.
"Ilum flares." Grit said, not even pausing. A string of red 'chute flares broke over the dark zone, bathing the area in a sickly red light. The lighting was still poor, but poor was better than none.

Hate Train
01-02-2006, 19:46
The red light is fine for my eye, it even seems better then regular light. Given my current situation, I'm at the back of the squad, and autopistol in my left hand. In any reasonable unit I would have been left back at the barracks, but this isn't any normal guard unit. My left arm is still broken, and I should know, it hurts like hell out of the sling. Hard to breathe too, my mouth feels drier then the Emperor-damned desert we left behind.
I hop forward lightly, then a little to my right, just enough so that I'm a full foot further right then the sniper and drop down on my knee with a thud, which gives me some shakes. The hard concrete is no picnic beneath my soft-fleshed stump and it hurts. Hurts like a bitch.

01-02-2006, 20:22
Grit's plan worked a little too well. Advancing slowly and cautiously through the underhive, picking their way through the rubble. It was clear the light never reached here, ever. Pale albino vermin with blind, atrophied eyes skittered from their movements.

Altan signalled his group to stop. "Something's here...." he muttered, racking the Ripper Shotgun he had personally taken. +++All Squads, Belisan reports contact. Be on the lookout+++ He voxxed.

With a ululating yell, a rag-covered youth dropped from the pipes in the cieling. Wielding a sicle shaped knife, he tried to slash Altan's throat as he dropped, but was backhanded by the giant into the wall. Suddenly, both squads came under sporadic stubber fire, with the occasional roar of a shotcannon booming out. Everyone took cover in the available habs.

GM: There are about a dozen gangers attacking each squad. They are each led by a proficiently skilled leader, and one squad attacking Grit's squad has a semi-operational heavy stubber. It will jam occasionally. There is heavy, hard cover around. Each squad are in an underground shanty-town like area, with lean tos, ruined buildings, piping, a 200 foot high roof, and dim lighting. The attackers have the advantage in stealth, and in the element of suprise. You have the skill advantage. Flush them out and destroy.

01-02-2006, 20:56
Hassar Valen Rubik:

I drop behind a rusting pile of unidentifiable machinery as bullets start pinging off the scenery around me. Damn. As if the Orks, unreliable comrades bailing when the fight gets too much for them, getting shelled by our own artillery, and the usual incompetence of Imperial command wasn't bad enough, we've now got the locals expressing their gratitude by trying to blow our heads off.

I peek out from behind my cover, trying to get sight on one of them. In the darkness I can't make out any more than the vaguest of shadows. Hopefully that goes for our attackers too. There are a couple of flashes from the doorway of a small building about 30 metres away, which is as much of a clue as I need. I raise my autogun and fire off four single shots. Their fire stops for a few seconds then picks up again. Ok, I didn't hit them but I was close enough to get them worried. I'm going to need something a little less discriminate, though. I pull a couple of frags from my belt, pull the pin on one and throw, then the same with the other.

The first grenade bounces off the wall of the building and detonates just outside, which normally would count for nothing. But the flimsy shanty dwelling wasn't built to withstand a strong breeze, never mind the Emperor's finest high explosives. Half of the thin sheet metal wall folds in on itself and the roof falls in, raising a great cloud of accumilated grime. The second grenade collapses yet more of the building. There's no more firing from that posiotion, so they're dead or scared off. Either way is fine with me, I'm not here to kill hiver brats but I'm not here to get killed by them either. I sweep across with my rifle, searching for more targets.


Hate Train
01-02-2006, 21:56
We're walking, the Commissar pauses to acknowledge some vox message, and then my world erupts. Heavy stubber fire rakes the ground around us, a few are cut down, but most dive out of the way and into cover. I'm slower then the rest, resting on my stump. I try to get up, but it's taking too long. A shot slaps the pavement next to me, sending little chunks of rock flying into my right side. I wince, my heart is pounding and adrenaline is flooding into my system. I fire off three shots into the darkness then ditch the pistol, crawling towards the nearest cover. Pushing off with my now-freed left foot I dive into a ruined structure on my right. I must be close to the heavy stubber, because I can feel its thunking through the floor.
Taking stock of my situation I examine the structure. It has a second floor and must be ajoined to more buildings. Interesting. I climb up the stairs and onto the second floor. The top floor wall is gone here, leading into another building. I continue to crawl onwards in the direction we were advancing, into the ajoined building and prop myself up against a wall, a doorway just to my right. I can hear footsteps on the floor, are they friendly, I wonder.

OOC: To get a feeling for where I am. The squad was advancing ^ and I dove > into the buildings. I am now facing v while fire is incoming from ^.

Grand Warlord
01-02-2006, 23:26


Diving forward into a little outcroping which was so far enough to keep him alive he heard the distinct sound of some heavy weapon fire on the part of the ganger filth down here ... and there was only one thing worse than a penal leagion ... and that was ganger scum.

Listening to the firing of the heavy weapon during a lull in its firing Mack turned blidny spraying down the hall with most of his autogun clip. He grabbed a grenade at his belt and lobbed it down the hall.

New Cult King
02-02-2006, 01:12

Great. An abnormally large hiver gang gets the drop on us. For the most part the men are scrambling for cover and returning fire, but the gangers have heavy weapons.

I drop and crawl to a gap in a crumbling ferrocrete wall, and put my eye to my scope. It's dark down here, and all I can see are scrambling shadows lit by the flickering red light of the sputtering flares. I adjust the scope settings, click through to 'thermal', and the shadows jump into rainbow-coloured clarity.

The chattering heavy stubber stops with a clunk, and I can hear cursing. I pan across to my right until I see the unmistakable glow of a heavy weapon barrel, and two figures desperately scrambling around it... it's jammed. Perfect. I wait til the bigger figure bends down to open a new ammo cannister, and put a bullet in the top of his head. I see him convulse as the projectile tears through his spine and out his lower back, and then he drops.

I hear somebody cry out "SNIPER!" before I can line up a shot on the other gunner, so I withdraw and scramble for a new position. These guys are sharp.

Let's hope we're sharper.

02-02-2006, 01:13
Elizabeth almost shimmed past the others into cove, moving a shade faster than the others. For the most part, she had the best weapon to get those ganger idiots out of their hole, or at least for them to get their heads down.

But there wasn't much chance right now. She'd be shot quicker than most of them could say 'procrastination'. She sighed and slumped back.

'Why did I even bother to get out of someone's bed this morning?'

02-02-2006, 01:40
"Hey sweet cheeks, get ready!" catcalled Altan. He stepped into the clearing, and let loose with a full auto burst from his Ripper Shotgun. He had requested it specifically for this mission, and being on the Lieutennant's good side this morning, it was granted. 'Streetsweeper' was etched crudely along the muzzle. The roar of the automatic shotgun was deafening, but it did the trick. Altan watched as two gangers stumbled and fell, bleeding from many wounds. "Getcher ass out there!" he yelled over the din.

Tanith Ghost
02-02-2006, 06:19
Grit didn't flinch for a second. "Heretics with a deathwish." He said flatly. "kill them all. His pistol arm was extended to execution pose, and the bolt pistol barked. Over in the center of a ganger mob, one of the louder, more obnoxious of the group fell, his brains decorating the walls in the dim red light.

"Two frags." Grit instructed Betsy. The juve complied enthusiasticly, waiting til the last second to throw them. "That got em real good!" She cheered.
Grit was already up, and moving forward. His pistol was less accurate on the run, but two more gangers were felled by the shots left in the clip. The pistol clicked empty as a ganger's skull explosively broke apart from the inside out, the man's chest blowing out past his ribs in a shower of gore.

Grit holstered the pistol in favor of a warknife and plowed into the gang group.
"For the Emperor!" The roared battlecry, one redemptioists had worn out, was terrifying all over again to the gangers. This was no civilian flagelant
accosting them, but an Imperial Commisar. One ganger fell, clutching the stump of his arm, while another's remains fell with the sickly wet noise of
a bowl of oatmeal hitting the floor, skull and upper body reduced to gory ruin by Grit's powerfist. Betsy, from a heap of rubble, watched aghast as Grit tore into the gang around him. Definitely the safest place to be, but also the scariest.

Scum! They dare stand in the way of my wrath. No better than the orks I hunt. The sentence for this is death. None will escape, and i'll make sure of it myself, up close and personal, by knife and fist.

Trooper Bethany(after Darkseer's departure, regulated to Grit's NPC aide with Dark's consent).
I watch the commisar stand up in all the fire. Is he nuts? He'll get shot!
He just gets out his pistol and shoots one of the gang like he's at target practice! The he tells me to follow. So I do, and throw the frags where he says. BOOM! I really got em that time! I cheer out loud, but Grit don't hear me. He just runs right at em! He keeps shooting as he goes. The he just starts killing them. And killing and killing and killing. I'm just trying not to throw up as he wipes out the gang he charged. Still, I'm stayin here.
Grit's so brave he must be invincible or somethin. I stay near him, I'll live too.

02-02-2006, 06:25
The Vox crackles once more, this time with the voice of the Lieutennant.

+++Save one. For....questioning.+++

New Cult King
02-02-2006, 08:07

The Commissar isn't cold - he's insane. He's 'zerking like he's got a head full of 'slaught. I provide him covering fire as best I can, having to duck and reposition myself between shots as my previous vantage points are peppered with autogun fire.

The Lt. signals that he wants one for questioning. I see a ganger in slightly more elaborate clothing than the others stand up suddenly, holding a plasma pistol. A leader of some sort. I lower my aim, and blow his left kneecap out of his leg, felling him like a sapling. He rolls around screaming. I hope he doesn't bleed out before the battle is over.

I am so intent on my shot that I don't hear the skittering of rubble until its almost too late. I roll over and look up into the furious eyes of a ganger starting to swing a huge axe right at my head. I react fast, dropping my rifle and drawing my jungle knife in one smooth motion. I kick at his right leg, throwing him off balance under the momentum of his swing, before launching up and driving the blade up through his sternum. He gargles at me and drops to the filthy ground, his gigantic weapon clattering in a cloud of dust next to him. As I duck low again to retrieve my rifle, I see an Ork glyph on the blade of the axe.

I vox the Lt. "Sir, one of the gangers was carrying an Ork weapon."

I grab my rifle, and crabwalk further to my right, starting to flank the main skirmish.

I look at the corpse of the ganger as I leave it behind, mentally marking his position, and think to myself "That's why I always bring a knife to a gunfight."

02-02-2006, 21:00
'Well if anyone is to get perforated at my expense, I'd love it to be you!' she smirked back at Altan.

The flamer in Elizabeth's hand roared as she sustained a better pinning fire than anything else.

02-02-2006, 21:10
Altan roared, and fired another salvo while sprinting forwards.


He looked down at his hand, blood smeared on it. A red stain spreading lazily from his gut. He hadn't even heard the shot. Keep going. He kicked the door open to the hab he had been firing at. There were two Juves inside, white with fright and lack of exposure to the healing rays of the sun. Altan's vision blurred for a moment, and the room swam. He charged the youths, and gasped as he felt another stubber round tear into his shoulder. The knife he wielded clattered to the floor from uselessly numb fingers. He swung Streetsweeper around, and discharged a burst point blank into one of their faces, turning it into so much meat colored jelly. He whipped around, abd brought the barrel down into the collarbone of the other stunned youth, dropping him to his knees. Altan lashed out with his steel toed boot, and felt the boys head cave in like a ripe melon. The world spun again, and he slipped and fell.

He couldn't get up.

+++MEDIC!+++ he voxxed.

02-02-2006, 21:21
Elizabeth wasn't all that far behind Altan on his charge. After all, someone had to give to big ape some sort of cover. After all, he was the Lt's brown nose.

She watched the events unfold in with the juve gangers and shook her head as Altan fell to the floor.

'You do with on purpose, don't you! Just because you know that I can't carry you and so have to drag your **** out of here.'

With a sigh, Elziabeth extinguished the pilot light on her flamer and shouldered it. Pulling out her side arm as she checked Altan's wounds. 'Well at least your guts aren't hanging out this time!' she quipped. 'Well there's very little I can do for you other than keeping the medic alive.'

She slipped off to the door and scanned the scene in front of it.
'Medic....your assistance is required forthwith and with some urgency.' she voxed, her rich voice just a whispers to try not to attract too much attention.

After a moment, Elizabeth stopped and looked back at Altan.
'Do we even have any medical staff with us?'

02-02-2006, 21:25
"We don't have one," groaned Altan. "We don't have a medic. Force of habit. Need to get back to base." He tried to lever himself up, but slipped back down. "Look if we've got anything to use as a torniquet."

Tanith Ghost
02-02-2006, 21:33
Grit, now standing over a mob of coprses, strode toward the remaining battle as if nothing had happened. "Fall in Bethany. We have a deadlock to break."
He ordered crisply, calm and icy as he was before his ridiculus show of brute force. +++Medic!"+++ Grit's commbead picked up Altan's distress call. +++All points be advised we have a man down+++ Grit annonced. "He's the best at what he does. He'll survive." He added as an afterthought to Betsy, who trailed in his wake, still shocked by the violence of the Commisar against the gangers. +++My squad, flank the gangers facing group one. Supressive fire
for now.+++ He voxed to the rest of group two. Grit advanced on the gang from the flank, an accurate pistol shot painting a spot of wall red and grey
as another ganger's head was detonated from the inside out by the mass reactive shell. Edger came on the vox, requesting a medic. +++You're it, Edger. Hold position until ordered otherwise.+++

Altan will be fine. No doubts there. He's taken worse. A shame though.
I'd have preferred him at full tilt to take on the orks. He has the stature to best them at their own game. Edger gets there first. I tell her to stay with Altan in no uncertain terms. Due punishment will be metted out before flesh wounds are tended.

Trooper Bethany
Emperor's throne! Grit really is nuts! Or just a killing machine digused as a human. He just shut off the rage. He's not covered head to toe in blood!
And he doesn't even look hurt or tired! He just gets out the gun, reloads, and POW! Another ganger's skull goes 'kersplat'. He's not even killing them, he's executing them like common crooks. Like our troops when they so much as put a toe outa line. I just follow and wait for him to give me orders. None of the gang notices me at all, they're too busy bein scared of Grit.

02-02-2006, 21:35
'You mean I have to drag his overly heavy posterior out of trouble AGAIN?' Elizabeth groaned, rather annoyed at the vox command she received.

Holstering her side arm, she slid back over to Altan, searching her pockets for something to help him. She didn't have much.
'Past my underwear...which I'm rather attached to at present due to the fact I'm wearing it....which you've already seen more times that I can count....I've got nothing. Except for this!'

She pulled her Flamer around and pulled out her combat knife. 'I could try and seal the wound as best as I can?'

02-02-2006, 21:37
Altan looked at Elizabeth. "Heat up my knife, and give it here. The bullet's still inside."

02-02-2006, 21:47
Elizabeth pulled a mock girlie pout 'You mean I don't even get to have any fun?'

She reached forward, grasping Altan's knife. As with it's owner, it was a beast of a weapon. She examinded it. 'Some would be tempted to say, that from the looks of this weapon you're compensating for something.....' The Flamer's ignition flame sparked into life.

'But they'd be wrong on what it is you're compensating for.' she finished, carefully rolling the knife in the roaring blue flame.

It didn't take long before the blade began to glow red. And Elizabeth continued to roll the blade in the flame. 'Are you sure you don't want me to do this.....because there isn't a canine's chance in Hades that I can hold you down!'

02-02-2006, 22:04
"I can feel it. You can't. Give it."

He took the blade from her, and plunged it into the hole in his gut. Muscles bulged, veins popped out in his neck, and he nearly passed out. The heated metal hissed and smoked as it cauterized the wound. He wiggled it around, and with a gasp, flicked the autogun round out. It was low grade, didn't have much backing to it, didn't go deep.

Altan gasped, and told Elizabeth to tear strips from the Juves and to bind him.

02-02-2006, 22:10
'Welll you may be an ape, but as least you have some manners.' Elizabeth retorted as she stripped off the outer clothes of the dead juves. 'Everyone else would have had me stripping off.....they can be so gastly at times.'

She carefully tore strips of cloth, though with a look of disgust on her face as she did it. 'You do realise that your chance of receiving an infection will increase greatly with using those.....so you better make sure that your wounds are cauterized as best as you can before I bind you.'

Pulling the strap over her head, Elizabeth slid her Flamer over to Altan. 'Do it!' she commanded before returning to stripping the clothes down. She'd need a fair bit of cloth, Altan was no pixie.

Hate Train
02-02-2006, 23:00
After my break I hop through the doorway and into the next building. Then the next. I hear someone scream "For the Emperor", no idea who it is. My breathing is already getting heavier. Dammit. I hop through another doorway into yet another building to see a hiver standing at the top of the stairways with an autopistol. Somebody's downstairs, I can hear them, and apparently so can the hiver. He looks about fifteen, he's just a kid.
More muffled conversation, is that voice feminine? It's high. The kid holds the autopistol out in front of him and starts down the stairs, real quiet. Downstairs someone yells, "Do it!" I know that voice too. It's the girl with the flamer. No need to wait any longer, I drop onto my hand and push off with my one leg. I cover half the distance before the kid hears me. He spins around. I'm breathing heavy and it hurts like hell. He lets out a little yelp of surprise and then fires one round. It impacts on the floor just to my right, spraying up little chunks of rubble. By then it's too late, I push one final time, tackling him.

Still carefully laying out strips of cloth Elizabeth suddenly heard a shot ring out upstairs. A moment later there was a crash as a hiver came falling down the stairs and crashed into the floor. Imentha was only seconds behind. He landed his hand, spread-palmed, into the kid's neck, breaking the windpipe almost instantly.

****. Maybe not the best idea. The kid's corpse is twitching under me, and I feel that lust. Same as before with the orc. Not right now. They'll see. Do it. No. I try to push myself up with my arm, but it's too weak, I think I screwed it up in the impact of the fall, it doesn't want to move. So I just use my leg to scramble into a sitting position a few feet away from the dead kid.

New Cult King
03-02-2006, 02:00

That big oaf Altan has been pegged. Good. Nice to see somebody so keen on dishing out pain on the receiving end. That flamer girl seems to have a tender spot for that thug. I have a tender spot, too. Right on the back of my skull where he hit me with his Emperor-damned cudgel.

The Commissar orders us to flank right. I duck back behind cover, and look around. There is a ladder a little ahead of me that leads up to some kind of gantry. It would make the perfect vantage point - too perfect. The gangers know their turf, and it's obviously a good spot for a sniper. I don't trust them not to have booby-trapped it.

I drop a couple of juves as they pop up to scan for targets. I seem to have been forgotten in the chaos of the firefight - they don't even hear the bullets that kill them. I draw a bead on the other heavy weapons team. A corroded pipeline runs through the shadows behind them, and I adjust my scope to bring the muck-smeared yellow wording on the pipe into focus.

Toxic Waste.

I vox on the squadnet to advise our soldiers to pull back from that area, before angling for a shot. It's hard to judge the trajectory in the smoke and dust of battle, but all of my training as a teenager comes back to me. I breathe deeply, and squeeze my trigger on the exhale. The bullet tears past the gunner's head and punches a hole in the pipe. For the briefest of moments I wonder if maybe the pipeline is empty, then I am rewarded with a high pressure jet of faintly-glowing green muck errupting from the hole and blasting the gunner off his feet. He drops to the ground screaming, pulling sludgy handfuls of skin from his face as he tries to wipes the goo off. The loader jumps around trying to get away from the toxic geyser, slips and falls on his back, his screams joining the gunner's.

The heavy stubber falls silent.

Tanith Ghost
03-02-2006, 04:07
Grit strode imperiously toward the second pocket of resitance. His markmanship was back to top form at this pace. Two gangers fell, headless and covered in their own questionable brains. Then, as Grit closed in, the pistol was returned to it's holster. The combat knife came out, promising much bloody violence. +++Ilumination, grade five.+++ Grit commanded, pausing in cover. +++But commisar...+++ +++Do it soldier. That's an order.+++ Grit overrode the legionare's objections. Four strings of red flares arced over the area, the red glow becoming universal as the original string sank into the ruins. The bloodred lighting was everywhere now. Grit was satisfied with the results. He produced a whistle from his poket, and blew.
The shrill tweet rang out over the ruckus. ++++Fix bayonets! Charge! For the Emperor! Charge!+++ Grit roared over the vox. He tweeted the whistle again, then twice more. "Bethany, a frag followed by supressing fire." Betsy obeyed, the hurried to follow Grit as the tossed grenade went off, stunning three gangers. Grit killed one in short order as he sprinted into the cover, gut stabing the man and crushing his head in the powerfist. A second fell dead to a trio of headshots. Bethany lowered her autogun. The last ganger fell, clutching his knee. "All yours, Bethany." Grit said casualy.

The smell of justice. Justice for all. That's the smell that fills the area. Smoke and blood. I savor it. The Emperor's work has been done here. I look on as Trooper Bethany covereds the cripled man with her autogun. At this rate, she'll surpass even my most sanguine expectations. A Regimental Colonel in the making? Maybe not that far. But she's clearly on the road to redemption. Several others here are on that same road. Rubik, Charon, Edger.
Even Altan, in soul if not in life.

Wow. Grit's somethin else. When he kills, he's nuts. When he's calm he's like ice. It's nuts. I just truss up the prisoner and cover him. I feel like a soldier covering a guy with a gun like this. Wow. I got a prisoner. Cool.
Maybe Grit'll give me more stuff that goes BOOM!

03-02-2006, 08:57
Altan patched himself up under the supervision of Elizabeth, and more than a little of her help. He looked around, and pulled a syringe out of his boot. He injected the stimm into his arm, and tossed the injector away. Feeling strength, life, a feeling of invincibility returning to him, he made it to his feet.

The boons were not all he felt. Rage. Pure, unadulterated death lust. The military grade stimms could bring a man back from the verge of death. But they came at a price. Cocking Streetsweeper, he gestured for Elizabeth to follow. He jogged to the Commisar's position, the insanity shielding his advance. His oddly dilated eyes caught the Commisar's, and he grinned. "Needs be as needs must, Sir!" he said with teeth bared and a knowing nod.

Suddenly, over the Voxx came an urgent bulletin. +++Orks sighted at Adeptus Mechanicus Geothermal Monitoring Station Alpha Q! Three levels down from your current location, Admechs request immediate assistance! Please Respond!+++

GM: Finish up the fight, break the enemy. Make it to the Admech station. Someone bring a survivor for interrogation. When you get there, there will be no orks remaining, they were fended off by the Praetorians. Little bit of story time there with the Admechs. Hold position.

03-02-2006, 20:50
I'm sorry, BM, but I keep reading and rereading that post, and all I can think is WTF is going on?

Hate Train
03-02-2006, 22:55
I just notice when she exits with Altan. That girl is cute. No, she's *********** beautiful. Only moments after I start thinking to myself and I start talking back. Kill her. Hate, rage, kill, rape. ****, what's happening to me? I feel numb all over.
Searching for something to distract myself from my thoughts, no, not my thoughts. The voices. Searching for something, I get up and hop to the doorway. Looks like the combat is breaking up. I'm too slow too keep up on my one leg, so I drop down on my arm and stub and scrabble along over rubble, tiny bits of concrete and metal on the ground cutting my hand. I feel the skin breaking, but I'm not feeling any pain. I'm behind the Commissar now, and for the first time I feel pretty good. I'm not in pain. My arm feels strong, hell, my stump feels strong. It's not hard to breath. Am I getting better? Or worse?

03-02-2006, 23:08
OoC/sorry about that i proply wrote that thing faster then it took you to read it been trying all day let me go an change it/OoC

once the drugs wore off he was past the orks. the drugs helped him to fight better in combat but would allways make him forget the battle.

Moveing quickly to the admech compound he checked his auto rifle a full clip on the side and half full on in the gun it's self.

quickly rolling under the gate of compound he quickly brought his rifle to brew seeing that there were no orks inside the compound


suddenly his head felt like he just got shot in the head falling to the ground he blacked out.

"his vital's seem to be at a resonable level begin the Gene Therapy again"

Pain shoot threw out his entire body as the very fiber of his being was being changed. forcefully as well

when he finally cmae to again. there was a tech Preist over him with the mechdraites all over him takeing samples of his blood and scanning the different tattoo's all over his body.

"come with me" as the tech presit begun to move to the inside of the compound.

114-7-EATH followed him inside into a room that seemed to be both a armoury and a medcial lab at the same time.

"this can't be good"

OoC/Nid If you wouldn't mind could you RP the tech presit you and me allready talked about what's going on/OoC

Tanith Ghost
04-02-2006, 03:40
"Bethany." "Yes Sir." "Bring these wretches with us for interrogation." He indicated the two prisoners. "On your feet! Get moving! You think I won't shoot cause I'm a girl?" She shouted at them, trying her best to be intimidating. "You won't." One sneered. "That's right I won't. Cause I'll just blow you up! Get going!" Betsy retorted. The two gangers sullenly fell into step in front of her. Grit noted this out of the corner of his eye, supressing a slight grin. +++This is Commisar Raphael Meridius. We are enroute to your position. ETA is 30 standard minutes. Report your status and enemy numbers, Station Alpha Q.+++ Grit voxed. "Mack, check in on them in fifteen." Grit ordered. "Group B! Let's move! We have aliens to kill!" THe shooting died off as the legionaires finished off the gangers at large. That left three prisoners, including the two Betsy herded at gunpoint. Grit led a hasty advance toward the lift down. Illum flares were put up, giving just enough light to navigate the area.

I watch with something approaching pride as Bethany badgers the prisoners to move. Reminds me of Altan's early days. I hope for her sake my faith in her is justified. It was a long time ago that Altan earned his freedom.
He was the most notorious of my convict scum. But then som any others who survived with me have gone on to glory filled careers in the guard.
I respond to the vox and request an update. Not waiting, I order my team to double time it to the station.

Trooper Bethany
[I]Grit tells me to take the prisoners. So I yell at them. When one gives me lip, I threaten him with a grenade. It works too! They do as I tell them, and start walking. Then Grit tells us to hurry to get to the station cause theo rks are there. I'm scared of orks. But i'm more scared of Grit and I'm not scared of orks when I'm near Grit cause he's way tougher and scarier than they are.
I make the two goons in front of me double time it and hurry to keep up with Grit.

04-02-2006, 17:03
Hassar Valen Rubik:

I shouldn't really be surprised at the Black Hat running head first into certain death, that's what they're for. But to come out the other side in one piece like that... that's something. If I was a pious man, I'd say the Emperor had a hand in it.... but then, if I was a pious man, alot of things would have been very different. Grit gathers the two squads together and we head off to rescue the Admechs, from two grots and a squig no doubt.

Altan got hit though, as though they could miss him. I'm trying to hide my smirk as I stick behind him, with Ash alongside him on babysitting duty. He'll be pissed off about it later, but he's always pissed off anyway. Right now he's too out of his mind on half the contents of a med-pack to be yelling at us, he could probably fly to the monitoring station. Its an improvement, as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, he's up front with the Commissar, Betsy and the gangers we took alive, so the rest of us can use his bulk to shield ourselves from snipers.


05-02-2006, 22:26
Elizabeth did her best to keep up with Altan, but a heavy weapon, a few full tanks of promethium and the fat his legs were longer than hers went against her. But as per usual, she was the one around when Altan got mashed, so she got the carer's duty.

It always annoyed Altan when he was sane enough to register what had happened, a big meat head like that having a woman watching is back and saving his skin. But in truth, he had done the same for her a couple of times, so she was honour bound to do the same. Plus he made a better shield from enemy fire than some of the other wrethes in this trooper of scum.

And it made her life so muh easier. In his drug addled state of mind, all Elizabeth had to do was stay behind him and he'd do all the killing and absorb all the fire that might kill her.

She smirked.

Grand Warlord
05-02-2006, 22:35

"Yes Comissar sir."

Double backing to the passed out gangers and he opened his vox.

"Commissar they are still breathing ... I will bring them to the station sir."

((OOC: Just assuming thats what they were intended for))

Mack woke the two gangers up after making sure they were securely restrained and gagged. He pushed them down the walk way with the walkway keeping them close to the walls keeping an eye out for any stray orks or gangers that may or may not make it past the Penal Troopers.

"Mack to Grit, where do you want me to drop these prisoners off at sir?"

06-02-2006, 01:36
The men advanced quickly and cautiously. They approached the facility, seeing it loom out of the darkness ahead. There were scorched parts of the walls, obviuous demolitions charge placements, but the integrity held. Wet patches of gore led the way to the building. The collected squad gathered, and prepared to infiltrate, when suddenly four Praetorian heavy attack servitors raised out of portals in the ground, and covered the squads with Multimeltas and Assault Cannons. Nobody moved.

Out of a speaker on one of their chests, came the voice of one of the techpriests. "Welcome, Imperial troopers. We have delt with the...infraction against the Omnissiah. Render your weapons inoperable, and thou may enter."

GM: Holster and unarm your weaponry, and go inside. This will be an opportunity for anyone who chooses to to gain the....blessings of the Machine God, if you catch my drift. I'm looking at Gimpy, primarily, but anyone who wants enhancement, go say so in the OOC thread, not in here.

Hate Train
06-02-2006, 04:17
Machines. Machine-men. I don't have any weapons anyways, so I just crouch there waiting for the Commisar's orders. I'm not really sure what "the blessings of the Machine God" are, but from what I see they don't look very appealing.

06-02-2006, 14:46
114-7-EATH put his weapon done and followed the instructions of the tech presit he wasn't sure what he was doing but he had a feeling it had something to do with that flashback he had. He didn't rember that exsprecine at all or what it was about.

lieing down on the table a IV was put into his arm he started to feel drowsy allmost like when he was comeing out of one his drug induced blank outs.

he felt like sometyhing was movieng in threw his veins like a worm crawling but at the same time changeing him.

"you gotta fight this thing" he thought to him self.

06-02-2006, 20:39
Hassar Valen Rubik:

Staring down the barrels of 4 assault cannons and numerous small arms, I begin to wonder exactly what the AdMechs were yelling about earlier. These babies could take on half the Waaagh by themselves without breaking a sweat, if servitors actually do sweat.

I'm not going to argue with them, so I twist my autogun upside down, release the ammo lock and pull it from the weapon. I then wave the magazine at the nearest servitor and grin. "Friends now?" I ask it, mockingly. It doesn't respond. Miserable git. Social skills obviously don't come easily when you've been grown in a vat and had various parts of your body replaced by enough firepower to level a city. Just in case it still thinks I'm too much of a threat, I unload my stub gun and pocket the clip, still smiling sweetly.

In a strange way, I'm flattered. The tech referred to us as Imperial Troopers. Not Penal Filth or Convict Scum, or even Legionnaires. To them, we're just another Guard unit. OK, the AdMechs have a weird relationship with their more flesh-and-blood cousins, they can't understand why we'd decline the opportunity to get our guts ripped out and replaced with a bunch of steel pipes and a Demolisher Cannon, but they're less discriminating between the likes of us and regular Imperials. Its a nice change to be treated so .... normally.


06-02-2006, 22:37
The outer blast doors of the squat facility opened. Then an internal set irise into the walls. Finally, a third set of doors ground upwards into the wall.

A noise was heard from within. Oddly mechanical, whirring, clanking, it got louder until it was clear what made the noise. A robed acolyte exited, flanked by several servitor-aides. He did not have feet, instead bundles of mechadendrites exited the bottom of his robe, giving him a gait reminiscent of an octopus.

"Greetings, flesh units. I am designated HR-B019. I am instructed to introduce you to the interior of this facility. We are unsure of why the orks hit, nor do we know if they will return. The mechanical man looked around. "Some of your constituent components appear to be operating at under optimal performance. My overseers have expressed permission to allow this facility to bring your squad into peak operating eficiancy. Please, come with me and recieve your blessing."

GM: Grit, get an interrogation room. Altan will asist. Anyone not recieving an upgrade will keep watch for orks, converse, get some rest, whatever. PMs are sent, if you don't get one do not worry, just follow the crowd. Anyone being upgraded, go with the tech priest, i will reveal you later.

New Cult King
07-02-2006, 01:56

I unload my rifle, and partially disassemble it. Removing the ammo may have been enough, but I'm not willing to take my chances with those guns.

We enter through a triple gateway that looks tough enough to withstand direct hits from a Titan's weaponry, and I see my first priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus. I can't help myself - my eyes widen and I take a step back. This thing looks more inhuman than the Orks - at least those green bastards have two legs. It seems happy to see us, even though it doesn't have a face to smile.

We are offered free 'enhancements'. While I am unsure exactly what this entails, I go along to check it out. Anything to increase my edge in combat, thus upping my chances of leaving this hellhole alive, will be welcome.

Hell, with my face, anything would be an improvement.

Hate Train
07-02-2006, 05:30
"Peak operating efficiency." A chance to have my arm and my leg back. It's like a dream, I just nod and follow the acolyte. And, like a dream, I don't remember much the morning after.

Tanith Ghost
07-02-2006, 06:38
Grit flexed a fist. The sound of joints cracking was most gratifying. To hell with bionics. The only enhacement his five knuckles needed were brass ones.
Then there was the powerfist. Betsy was still trailing a few paces behind him.
"Commisar, sir?" Grit turned his head slightly, indicating she should speak.
"Whada they mean by 'enhancements' and 'improvement'?" She asked.
Grit considered for a moment. "Truthfully, Betsy, nothing good. The mechanicus put too much value in metal, and not enough in flesh. Whatever they improve, they also complicate. It's better to keep what you have until it needs replacing. No point jumping the gun." Grit pulled a requisition slate.
"See this to the highest ranking cog boy you can find. Then bring the prisoners to the interrogation room. I'll meet you there."

Grit himself stopped the first mechanicus servant he found. "I need to see the man who made the report on the ork atttack." "Well, infantry unit, this will requre a time span of one week to locate the report and individual, then clear you for veiwing-" "Right now." Grit said, bolt pistol drawn and trained. "Obstructing the operation of the Emperor's servants is a capitol crime. Your autonomy is well know. But my authority is absolute." "Surely you jest meatbag." "I do not. Bring me the relevant data. Now. Or meet the Machine God in person." The tech's expression was one of outrage, but he did as he was told, handing Grit several dataslates. "These contain the information relevant to the ork attack. They will tell you everything you need to know. I am subordinate to the report unit you requested. All of these are his works." "That will do. You are dimissed." Grit said, reading over the reports.

"Commisar, Betsy here. I did like you said. I got the crooks in auxilury room...25/6 beta. Yeah. Trussed up real nice. They say the won't talk, but this cogboy says he's got truth serum." "Good work. I'll be there right away." Grit switched to Altan's comm bead. "Altan, Commisar Grit here. Get down to Auxilury 25/6beat on the double. That pair of ganger floor flushers is gonna spill their guts, and their insides too if they don't co-operate." Grit double timed it to the room. Betsy stood guard over two gangers.
"We'll start when Altan gets here."

I read the reports as I walked. Cog boys too, need to learn disipline.
The orks wanted something, but the report is too mired in numbers and calculations to be much use. I shrug. Betsy reports in. Good. When those two zeros squeal, I'll have something to work with. I will find those ork scum and kill them. And anything else dumb enough to get in my way.
The Emperor's justice stops for none, man, alien, or spectre.
I walk in, where Betsy has the prisoners. Good deal, I note.
I could use an aide. If she does well with the interrogation, she has the job.

Trooper Bethany
So I follow Grit around until he gives me some orders. Then tells me what to do with a data slate. I find the under-fabricator, and give him the slate.
He buzzes foe a second. Then he tells me the interrogation room is mumbered
25/6 beta, auxilury block. Even gave me a map to get there. Then I realize
the Commisar called me Betsy. I must be doing ok. I'm still scum, but i'm valuable scum now. Now i'll get more stuff that goes BOOM for sure.
Ibring the prisoners into the room and truss em up real good. Then Grit walks in. I just hope I don't throw up in front of him.

08-02-2006, 21:25
Elizabeth extinguished the igniter on her flamer. It was quiet inside the temple of the Machine-God. Or at least quieter than she expect.....either that or she just missed the comforting roar of her Flamer.

With a bowed head, she made her rather clumbsy praise to the Machine-God. And her parise was greeted with a quiet laugh. Elizabeth glanced in the direction of the sound.
'I take it that I've still not improved in my benediction?' she whispered to the laughing tech-priest. The Priest nodded and moved forward.
'But your intensions are pure enough.' he replied.

Elizabeth frowned, the voice sounded normal. Then with an odd grin, she shrugged. 'Could you bless this Holy Weapon Priest?' Elizabeth asked, patting her Flamer.
The Priest floated forward, gliding somehow that Elizabeth couldn't fathom. His mechandendrites extended out from the folders of his robes to fondle the weapon at Elizabeth's side.
'Are you sure?' he asked a little quizzically.
Elizabeth nodded.....she knew she took great care of her Flamer, as if it were her own flesh and blood.
'Very well then...but the spirit in this weapon is most content.' The Priest said, gently taking the weapon from Elizabeth's shoulder.

She sighed as the comfortable weight was lifted from her shoulder. 'Take good care of it!' she called after the Tech-Priest. It was utterly unneeded but she spoke the words anyway. And with that, Elizabeth wandered to the doorway and lit up a cigeratte.

Hate Train
13-02-2006, 03:04
"The procedure is complete."
The Techpriest's voice is harsh and metallic. It hurts my ears. I suddenly have a pounding headache and my vision is blurred. I can vaguely make out his robed figure to my right, a single dot of crimson light bursting from the shadows beneath the hood. I twist and sit up on the metallic slab, placing my feet down on the floor. My feet. Both of them.
"Follow me." The Techpriest's voice is loud in the small room. But, I follow him. I follow him through one doorway. For once, I'm not in pain. I feel fine. My right arm seems unusually heavy. Down a hallway now, it's gleaming metal on every side. Out another door. I recognize where we are now. This is the entrance hall. The room is pretty big, and there's a large statue of somebody on the wall to my left. The Omnissiah? Or the Emperor? I'm not sure. On my right is the main entrance, that girl is there, smoking. The Techpriest leaves me, going back the way we came. I think. I'm not sure which way we came.
I go back to the doorway and sit down opposite the girl, resting my back against the doorway. There's a clink as I lay my right arm down. I lift it again, it's heavy. Really heavy.

Where once was flesh and blood, there was now a metallic joint in place of the elbow lost. In place of Imentha's forearm was a drill. Gracefully spiralling from a diameter of about ten inches to a razor sharp point, the gleaming metal reflected lazy shafts of artificial light around itself. The tip itself was sculpted from adamantium, perfect for mining. Or less savory practices.
The stump of his left leg had been severed completely and replaced with a bionic replacement. Smooth steel reflected even further the light from the drill into the doorway.

13-02-2006, 09:23
Elizabeth turned and raised an eyesbrow as she witness Imentha stop and look at her. It was only for a second, but that was enough for her.

A snarl rose to Elizabeth's lips as she saw him looking at her, but before she could do or shout anything he was one again. She signed.
'What a freak!' she muttered.

13-02-2006, 16:14
114-7-Eath woke up form a werid dream but something didn't feel right.

his body felt like it wasn't his.

"it shall take a few days to get used to but I'll think you'll prefer it to you old self."

He moved and lifted his arm were his veins used to be blue they now where a sliver and it apperead to have a light pulse to it as well.

standing up he felt a strong spring in his step.

"that is all now report to the armoury for your arrament"

he had no idea what was going on but he started walking it took alot of will power to keep is feet on the ground.

he steped itno the armoury he looked around all sorts of weapons were on the walls. he looked around at what would be best suited to him.

there were things that could take a space marine down with one shot but he needed something that would work with him be a extsion of his body.

he picked up a rifle and gave it a look over.

"ah thats a good choice. a combi bolter with a secondary melta gun fire" the tech preist then took it form my hands
"to bad that this was special made for a chapter master of the warseer chapeter I don't think you would want to fight him for it now would you?"

114-7-EATH didn't feel like argueing

he picked up a large what apeared to be a machine gun and he quickly cocked it.

"the XR-230 magazine capacity 40 rounds or 60 with a drum maganzine. With a scope for semi-atuo fire Slincer is contained with in the gun. it has semi and full auto fire modes."

"I'll take it"

13-02-2006, 19:19
Hassar Valen Rubik:

I'm sat with a couple of the other Legionnaires, swapping old war stories while we wait for our next brush with certain death, when a door slides open. For a minute I think its one of the tech's pet servitors leaving, then recognition hits me. By the stars! What the hell have they done to Imentha?

I mean, the guy was badly smashed up, I'm amazed the Commissar didn't grant the Emperor's dubious mercy back at the compound. But now he's sporting a fairly hefty lump of mining hardware where his arm used to be. I shouldn't be surprised, really. The AdMechs are, without exception, completely insane but seeing the effects of their handiwork on someone I know is something else. At least from the looks of things he's got a fairly standard bionic leg and not a bunch of spiderlimbs or a rocket motor.

He makes straight for Ash, and she pulls a face. Heh. Its still the same Imentha under all that junk, anyway. I wonder what has been done with the others...


Hate Train
13-02-2006, 23:28
I notice the girl snarl at me. Or is that my imagination? I'm not sure, the world is still fuzzy, but I don't bother to get up from where I've sat down opposite her. She can think what she wants for now, she doesn't know me. Yet.

13-02-2006, 23:28
Charon awoke, feeling rather numb. His face....ached. But not in a way he had ever felt before. He snaked his fingers to feel, and touched cold metal. His eyes were cold gems. His breath rasped through his vox-breather. Getting up too quickly, he doubled over in pain as he felt further modifications running down into his chest. Knocking materials in the recovery bay over, he set off several klaaxons, but managed to find a suitably reflective tray to look into.

His face.

His face.

It was not the face he knew. It was a work of art, there was no doubt. It was a silvered helm, completely encasing his skull. Worked in the image of the ancient Greeks upon holy Terra, his face had an Appolo-like aura to it, of supreme yet refined beauty, grace, and calm. His eyes were cold, twinkling facets of emerald set in an emotionless face. Moving downward, there was a raw hatch cut into his throat, able to be opened and closed with a small pressure switch imbedded beneath the flesh. Tromping bootsteps filled the hallway. Several of the more human Adepts of the Machine God entered the room. Medicaes flocked to Charon. One of them got him to his feet while the other rattled out streams of information almost too fast to understand.

"Wehadtomodifymorethanwehadoriginallyanticipated. Idohopethisistoyourlikingasitisirreversible." he chattered.

Elsewhere, Grit was stalking in front of the two captured Gangers. As of yet, he hadn't said anything. But then, he wouldn't need to. Altan entered the room, still gore encrusted and oozing slightly. The stimms were going strong, his breath coming in short, hard gasps. He looked at Grit, and said "I'm going to need a pneuma-drill. Quarter inch carbide bit. Also a soldering gun. Maybe a vibro-scalpel. And a pair of vice grips." He looked at the captives. Their eyes brimming with fear, their mouths gagged, they could do little. Altan decided to start early. He walked over, and causally broke a finger on one of the juve's hands.

Elizabeth had been waiting in the reception room. A lowly adept came skulking into the room with a familiar shape covered in a rag. "Itttt isss doonnnnee" he hissed through artificial vocal cords. She unwrapped the package, and looked at her Flamer. Every last part of it had been lovingly redone, cleaned, remanufactured, repaired. A golden firedrake worked out of electrum now coiled gracefully down the barrel's length, its mouth worked into the flamer nozzle. Elegant wings flanked the promethium loader. Every other square inch had been laser engraved with devotional prayers to the Emperor of Man.

GM: So sorry for the delay. Studying for finals, then I thought this died. When I saw 2 people post, and TG PM me, I realized this needs to keep going. We are interrogating the prisoners, then moving on. Rest up, there are a few other tech priests in the area you guys could talk to and maybe get information from. PM me if you're going to try to learn anything.

14-02-2006, 00:15
Elizabeth, hearing that she was being addressed hastlyflicked her cigeratte out of the open door. Blowing the last of the smoke into rings.
Turning, she gasped at the work done on her beloved Flamer. It was utterly magnificiant. She traced her fingers over the scroll work that wounds its way across the weapon. It reminded her of vines.

'I......' She tried to search for the words to say, but none seemed all that forth coming. 'Thank you.' she whispered.

With a respectful bow of her head to the Adept, Elizabeth started to turn on her heel, but stopped half way. Why had this Adept brought her flamer back to her....rather than the one that had taken it from her. However, after a moments through she decided that he probably had more important matter to attend to.

Elizabeth blinked as she stepped out into the light. The heat was still intense, and she hated it. Being an ice worlder, she felt the heat much more accutely than most of those that were there. She sighed as she felt the perspiration start to spring forward on her back. This was going to be most uncomfortable.

Ignoring most of the hustle and bustle of the place, Elizabeth searched for her things. Though most importantly the cover for her Flamer. It had to be taken care of even more carefully now. And dust wasn't good for its working.

After it was safely stowed away, Elizabeth took a look around to see what there was to do while she waited for everyone to move out to their deaths. With her usual, confindent swagger, Elizabeth decided she could do with some torment and humilition, so she made it her business to find out where the prisoners were being kept.

It wasn't easy and she'd been forced to promise a lot to various people. But she had a feeling that they'd never live long enough to get their payment. It was strange, for ganger scum, they were being kept awfully secure.

New Cult King
14-02-2006, 00:59

I can't feel my face... I went in for some optical enhancements, and this is what they do to me. I can barely speak. My throat hurts like hell. Everything I can see is tinted green. I grasp a chromed surgical tray and look into it; it takes me a few moments to comprehend what I'm seeing.

A silver face stares back at me, utterly unlike my own. My new face has been wrought into a work of art. I'm thankful that they left my head bald - I never like the cascading curls of those statues in my family's mansion. Now I understand why everything is green-tinted: my eyes look like emeralds.

I feel dizzy. I lay back down again, trying not to scratch at my throat. This is going to make things interesting.

Grand Warlord
14-02-2006, 04:07

Well not even a thanks ... oh well you come to accept it after this many years in the scumdogs.

Mack sat somewhere watching the flamergirl drool over her shiny new toy. Amatuer. He cleaned his weapons and looked at the state of his guns ... he would have to acquire new ones in the next year or so assuming he lived that long but it was his belief everything was expendable ... even him.

"So Elizabeth ... why are you in the Scumdogs?"

He could imagine the look she was going to give him and smiled ... atleast he could still smile.

14-02-2006, 04:20
114-7-EATH walked into the room were the rest of the scumdogs were holding his new gun to his chest like a overgrown baby.

and to him it was it was his new born baby.

Hate Train
14-02-2006, 04:54
Fancy flamer. It glows. That golden finish, the wings, the artwork... it's hot. Like the girl. With it on, I kind of imagine that she looks like an angel. Beautiful, but terrible. Maybe it adds more to the appeal, I'm not really sure, feelings are mixed up inside me. I guess I'm only just now comprehending the meaning of my new arm. I examine it, I'm not sure if it spins. And just like that, tiny servo-motors in the base begin to whine. It turns slowly for half a second, then it becomes a gleaming whirlwind of finely crafted metal. The effect is quite stunning. And then, with the slightest thought, it stops. I run my hand, my hand over my scalp. There's some bumps at the base of my skull. I'm not sure I like the idea of the Techpriests in my head. And knowing them, there's probably something more there than they're telling.
I try to brush the thoughts aside, and instead I look at the girl out of the corner of my eye. I don't know her name. Or do I? I'm not sure anymore.

Tanith Ghost
14-02-2006, 05:45
"Betsy, watch carefully and hand Altan the tools he requests." Grit said coldly. Betsy nodded, offering Altan the soldering gun. A tech entered with the tools requested. Grit was unsurprised. Oldest trick in the book. Not his concern if they wanted to listen in. "The ork weapon. Where did it come from?" He asked as casualy as a man asking the weather, removing a ganger's gag. "I...I dinno.." "Wrong answer. Altan." Grit responded, giving Altan permission to administer an injury. The resulting scream caused Betsy to winch. "Get used to it. War is an ugly buisiness." Grit admonished.
Betsy nodded, steeling herself for the interrogation.

I watch indiferently as Altan tortures the thugs. I ask but once before I give Altan the ok to work again. Next time, they should spill everything.
Bethany watches in horror. She's young, she has a right to be shaken up.
I don't let on to that though. I simply advise her of the reality of things.
She takes it well. My best prospect since Altan himself I dare say. She shows promise for scum.

Trooper Bethany
I just look on, scared as hell by what I'm seeing, and meekly doing what Grit says. He can tell I'm scared. He always knows this stuff. It scares me he does. It's like he can read minds, and tell what people think and feel.
He knew when that toy soldier boss was scared. He probably even knows when Altan is scared. But he's never scared himself. He doesn't even blink when Altan breaks a guy's finger. I almost threw up on my shoes from that scream. But Grit just tells me to give Altan the burner stick and nods to Altan.
I just brace myself for the scream.

14-02-2006, 23:34
Elizabeth sneered at the trooper that had spoken to her. Mack, if she remembered correctly.

'Murder and.........what else but arson.' she grinned maliciously as she lit up another cigarette with a flouring of the lighter. 'And what exactly do my past malefactions have to do with why I am here. The sheer fact that you are privilaged with my presence if because I am a criminal.'

Grand Warlord
15-02-2006, 00:42
He rolled his eyes and stood stretching he holstered his weapons as a runner came adn found his attention. Taking the message from the runner he scowled at the letters before torching it with his pocket lighter.

"Damn. Well it has been fun watching your ego swell ... but I got a patrol to do."

He grabbed his gear and 'acquired' one of the longer grey bodycoats from the cogboys ... it would help him to blend into the urban devastation everywhere better than his standard fatigues ... setting off into the darkness he saluted Elizabeth and was out of sight, his autogun locked and loaded, testing his vox a few times before his form faded from view.

An hour or 2 later ...

He crept down the halls of the tunnels not noticing anything out of the ordinary ... wait ... was that a noise he heard.? Slowly creeping towards the sound he had to doa double take noticing some ... Grots ... of all things down here he hadn't expected Grots ... Opening his vox he began issuing his report but before he had finished a warcray of 'WAAAAAAAAAGH!' echoed down the hallway and the ambush began in earnest... he opened fire trying to safely make his way back towards camp ...

Over the Vox...

"Mack to base, Mack to base! Orks Incoming pl.... +click+"

The Vox went cold...

15-02-2006, 18:36
Elizabeth snorted and rolled her eyes as Mack left.

New Cult King
16-02-2006, 01:42

I'm still sitting in recovery when my vox crackles into life, sounding like it's right inside my head. It probably is, now. Mack's on patrol and run into trouble.

I stagger to my feet and head to the armoury. Brushing aside a protesting cogboy I grab my kit, check my rifle, and head out into the underhive, a long grey cloak draped over my shoulders my only attempt at camouflage. With a head like this, I'm gonna be a beacon, so I draw the hood up.

As I step into the gloom, I hear a faint whine and my vision jumps into crisp resolution, my new eyes picking out the shadows and rubble in perfect detail. I hear gunfire, and as I concentrate on it, the sounds are amplified enough that I can detect where it's coming from. I head towards a warren of tunnels, and soon I can see sporadic flashes of muzzle flare.

I duck inside what I assume is a gloomy tunnel, but I can see perfectly. The heat signatures of the Orks and their weapons stands out against the green, and I can see a human figure pinned down behind some rubble.

"Mack!" I yell, my voice disorted and fuzzy like a cogboy's, "Pull back!"

I prime a frag grenade, and toss it over Mack's head as he scrambles back towards me. The flash momentarily blinds me, but through the smoke I can see the ruined bodies of a couple of little creatures. The Orks don't seem to have been slowed, however. Mack makes it back to me, and we both pull out of the tunnels. He tells me his vox is dead, so I radio back to the base, calling for reinforcements.

As we scramble away from the tunnel entrance, I catch something move out of the corner of my eye. A small explosion, a hiss, and I see a rocket curling towards us, leaving a corkscrewing contrail of smoke. Mack grabs me and pulls me behind a huge, half-rusted girder, and I hit the deck hard.

There's a bigger explosion as the rocket impacts, and I black out...

Tanith Ghost
16-02-2006, 06:41
Grit coldly asurveyed the two ruined gangers. For an hour, Altan had tourtured them. The result was the truth as fully as these two zeros knew it.
Orks had been seen. Gangs clashed with them. But no-one had colaberated with the xenos. Yet, anyway. The Von Strabb case was a textbook example of that brand of heresy. "For the crimes of obstructing Imperial justice, failure
to comply with Imperial soldiers, and opening fire on an officer of the Commisariat, you are guilty. The sentence is death by bolt pistol.
"Altan, Betsy, carry out the execution. " Altan eagerly took the pistol and splattered the ganger's brains all over the room. Betsy timidly picked up the weapon and reluctantly fired. For a moment her composure wavered.
She kept it though. The vox crackled with Mack's message. "Keep them from fleeing! Backup is enroute now! No retreat, Mack! Not one step!" He replied,
grabbing his own pistol and donning his powerfist. "You two with me! Let's go!"
He ordered, storming out of the room at a great pace.

Pain always brings out the truth. These scum have no stomachs. I coldly observe as Altan gleefuly mutilates them. Bethany is disgusted, I can tell, but controls herself well. Scum she may be, but she's entitles to that much.
A person her age should be in the Schola learning to be a storm trooper, not dismantling a man alive. I take note of her lack of protest in executing the prisoner. I find this pleasing. For a breif moment I compare her with Altan.
Diferent as they are, they are also the same. My once best prospect, and the carrier of that torch. She might even stay out of trouble where Altan failed. Reports come in of an attack. They know the drill. I lead the two of them out to find the orks.

Trooper Bethany
I'm so sick and scared, after an hour of doing all kinds of stuff that'd make a crime boss wet himself. Those two poor goons are still alive. Not forl ong.
Grit has what he needs, and orders us to kill em. Altan is so happy I'm surprised he can wait. I just wish I was home, and do as I'm told.
I never shot anyboy in cold blood before. I feel numb when I do.
Then the vox blares. Grit yells back, and then says 'Follow me'. So I do.
I brad my grenades and run after him. He says it's orks. I'll get em allright. That's my job. That's all I can do til I die, or live and get pardoned.

16-02-2006, 08:08
GM: There are light ork infiltrators assaulting the Admech facility as a front to distract you from them attacking a much more critical target. Grit has been PMed the details. I am going on a camping trip and will not be back until monday, TG you have the helm.

Tanith Ghost
19-02-2006, 04:35
OOC//It's in good hands boss.*salute*:p

"Squads alpha, beta, gamma and foxtrot converge on me now andm oveo ut to dea with the orks! Let's go!" Grit shouted into the vox. He set off at a jog for the ambush site, Betsy scurrying to keep up.

Temporary GM: We are to hit the orks attacking Mack's group. Mack, you have some cannon fodder to play with. Use it. Everyone else, come up behind the orks and surprise them.

Hate Train
19-02-2006, 07:58
The call goes out. Orks. I'm up and running before the other members, sprinting over rubble. It's good to be mobile again. Thank the Omnissiah. My new leg works like a charm, but there's some residual pain in my other leg. I shrug it off, clutching the drill to my chest. I hear an explosion somewhere nearby, a tunnel from the looks of it. I see two men, Mack I recognize. The other one... he's different. Something wrong with his face, I can't tell from this angle. Down the tunnel there are Orks moving up. They don't look heavily equipped, and there are smaller, runtier Orks mixed in with the larger ones. They're coming now, small arms shooting random shots. I duck to the side of the tunnel, holding position as they advance.
Other members of the squad are starting to pull up, some take cover with Mack behind a girder, others crouch down and start firing. The first Ork breaks free of the tunnel. I punch him in the face with my drill and imagine it spinning. It works like a charm, thank the Omnissiah. Again. The drill spins and burrows into the thick xenos skull, whips of green ichor fly out as well as his brain. In bits and pieces it sprays the ground, the thick Ork skin twists unnaturally under the drill, leaving a broken mockery of a face behind. This is going to be fun. I already feel some glee, and it seems like a voice is speaking. I can't hear the words. I whisper to myself, not even loud enough to be heard over the autogun fire.

"Let's make angel proud."

09-03-2018, 13:09
John wished he had never committed that vandalism aged 16, it had landed him in the penal legion after all.

No one had moved in over a decade.

John felt his sphincter begin to feel pressure as it had so many times before. This time however, he couldn't hold it. The maw gaped wide like the eye of terror and he deposited a hot, meaty mass onto the battlefield floor.

Now to do up his webbing and get back in the fight!