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Behind Enemy Lines (RP thread)

Started by Mabbz, February 23, 2016, 02:35:44 PM

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Mabbz

On Ferin II, a war rages. This isn't especially surprising; war is everywhere in this galaxy, so why should some out of the way planet on the Eastern Fringe be any different? This particular war was started because the planets Governor, Garius Merryn, developed a fondness for Tau service drones, force field technology and females (although to date no Tau female has returned this affection. Mostly they just find it weird). This pretty much worked out well for everyone, as Ferin grew wealthy and prosperous, and their improved technology meant that the Imperium was actually receiving more supplies than expected from the planet's farms and mines.

Unfortunately for everyone (except possibly the water caste diplomat that Garius had been pursuing), the Imperium is full of paranoid individuals, one of whom worked for the Adeptus Ministratum. He couldn't leave well enough alone, did some snooping and the next thing anyone knew 18 years had past and the Tau and Imperial Guard were wrecking the infrastructure of Ferin II in their pointless struggle for supremacy.




An atmospheric transport was zipping through the skies. It was carrying troops and supplies for the war effort, but due to the destination being on the ever-shifting front line, it was currently in enemy territory. Corporal Maria Note knew this, because her sergeant was taking great pleasure in trying to reassure her as she sat in the mess hall, presumably in his latest attempt to woo her.

"So you see," he boomed cheerfully, "you really don't need to be concerned about the Tau."

"I'm not," Maria muttered, ignored.

"I mean, yes, they could know we're here, but what could they do about it? We have a fighter escort, and point defence systems and everything. And anyway, they couldn't possibly scramble their interceptors in time to get us, we'll only be behind their lines for a short while. So don't worry! Everything is perfectly safe, and absolutely nothing could possibly go wrong!"

Maria froze for a moment at these words, then leapt out of her seat and sprinted for a nearby supply cupboard. Just as she reached it, the aircraft was rocked by a massive exsplosion that caused a table to slam into the sergeant. She heard more explosions, the lights went out, she braced herself against the walls of the enclosed space and then lost track of everything as the next few minutes were a confusing mix of tumbling, loud noises and swear words.

Eventually it stopped, and Maria gingerly explored her surroundings. The door was now above her, but after some shoving she managed to force it open. Clambering out she found herself in what was left of the mess hall. Bad news, most of it was on fire and littered with debris. Good news, there was a hole at the far side through which she could see daylight, and her sergeant was being cremated, which would save her a job. The cupboard was contained her entire squads kit, including her medi-pack and lasgun, so she grabbed the excess ammo and carefully picked her way outside.

The Man They Call Jayne

A fist broke through some of the debris as Adam Wexler worked to free himself from the wreckage.

"Well, anyone you walk away from...if anyone has."

As he dug himself loose his arm seemed to get stuck, but with a heave he managed to free himself, falling over backwards and catching his prized heavy bolter with his chest.

Spotting the woman, he ran over to check she was unhurt.

"Gunnery Sergeant Adam Wexler. Catachan 4857th. Are you wounded?"
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Wargamer

McTavish had been close to the starboard access hatch when the transport was hit, partly because his squad expected a hot LZ, mostly because they were used to crashing.

Four men got clear before a secondary detonation cremated the squad still aboard. One man hit the ground hard enough to splash. The rest of the squad, buffered by turbulence, came down just below the transport.

McTavish hurled his gravchute aside and surveyed the damage. It felt like he might have sprained something. Also, all his friends were dead, but he'd owed most of them money so things were looking up.

He checked his bandolier. Two bulk ammo drums, a single mag of Deathshot and two more Hellshot mags. He ditched the bulk ammo and went in search of corpses to loot.
I wrote a novel - Dreamscape: The Wanderer.. Available in paperback and pdf.

Quote from: Liberate the Warhammers
People who have no sense of Sportsmanship have NO PLACE designing any Gaming system

Mabbz

"I'm all right, thank you," Maria replied. "Corporal Note, Raikan 41st. Medic, so really I should have been the one to ask that, but experience has taught me that Catachans just claim to be invincible when I check them for injuries. Have you seen anyone else?" As she spoke, her bionic eye flashed an invisible burst of x-rays, confirming that Adam had no broken bones.

The Man They Call Jayne

"Nobody so far, but there may be survivors elsewhere. And Catachans ARE invincible." He said with a grin.

"Lets see if there anyone to dig out. Or possibly hostiles to inconvenience."
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Wargamer

McTavish had found a medkit and dosed himself with painkillers. Fastening his rebreather back in place, he turned towards a nearby sound and advanced, weapon raised. He saw people in the wreckage. Instinct took over.

"Sound off!"  he roared at the two figures climbing free of the wreck, his Hellgun aimed squarely at the heavy weapon Trooper.
I wrote a novel - Dreamscape: The Wanderer.. Available in paperback and pdf.

Quote from: Liberate the Warhammers
People who have no sense of Sportsmanship have NO PLACE designing any Gaming system

The Man They Call Jayne

"Gunnery Sergeant Wexler, Trooper. Catachan 4857th. Stand down! This is a medic. Are you wounded?"

Wexler let the heavy bolter rest at his side.

"Identify yourself soldier."
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Mabbz

"Corporal Note,  Raikan 41st!" Maria shouted automatically. She kept her lasgun at the ready, though, since the newcomer was behaving so aggressively. Her eye flashed again. "You appear to have a sprain. Do you require medical assistance?"

Wargamer

The Hellgun lowered. "McTavish. Sergeant. Emperor's Finest."

He looked over to the medic and shook his head. "I've had worse, buy I'll be very upset if the officer's drinks cabinet didn't survive. 'scuse me."

With that, he wandered back to what was left of his squad to salvage grenades, supplies and magazines. "We shouldn't hang around!"  he shouted over his shoulder. "Sweep for survivors!"
I wrote a novel - Dreamscape: The Wanderer.. Available in paperback and pdf.

Quote from: Liberate the Warhammers
People who have no sense of Sportsmanship have NO PLACE designing any Gaming system

Narric

Debris shifted a short distance away. A large mass of metal and dirt expanded upward, and sifted away, unveiling a heavily robotic humanoid figure, draped in robes of crimson red, ablative plates of ceramite, and hissing with the expulsion of steam and various release valves. A servo arm with a needle nose pincer head extended from the strangers back, reaching down and lifting up a large stave with a gear shaped axe head, each side emblazoned with the half-bone, half-mechanical face of the Cult Mechanicus.

"Zzxsa.....ziuxbz..." a garbled synthesised voice screeched out of unseen speakers. The individual reached up and adjust the mouthpiece, seemingly disgruntled. "Such a waste of exquisite machinery." The voice was clear and baritone, the synthesisers giving it a metallic edge, and felt more unnatural then it really was. "Engineseer Hertius, at your side." He had taken the power axe in his left hand, and raised it acknowledgement of the rest of the group, before begin to traverse the ground to allow for easier introductions.

The Man They Call Jayne

"McTavish? Why do I know that na...Oh feth. Mad Bastard MacTavish? Well on the one hand, all we have to do is point him at the enemy. On the other, we need to find a way to make him stop that doesn't involve blowing his legs off."

He did have a point though, they needed to gather as many supplies as they could. Wexler needed to find as many ammo boxes as he could, because one thing a heavy bolter did, was eat ammunition like it was going out of fashion.

He exploration brought him into the path of the Enginseer. He didn't have much experience with the Mechanicus, the Catachan preffering to deal with their own equipment in ways that the Omnissah might disapprove of. Such as how he had stripped away all the "excess" bits of his heavy bolter to make it a little more portable.
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Narric

Hertius nodded to the Catachan as he walked past.
"I hope that Heavy Bolter is serving you well, jungle fighter." Hertius said offhand, not stopping as he continued towards the Medic. If it were possible, Hertius would have smiled. "Any other survivors?" He looked over the nearby wreckage, half expecting a platoon of guard to pop out from the debris and detritus.

Mabbz

"Not that I've seen, but then it's a big wreckage. Maybe there are more around the other side." Most of the twisted lumps of metal were larger than she was, so she didn't think it worth trying to dig. "I don't suppose you have any idea where we are? I assume we were shot down by the Tau, and if so then we should probably get moving; they'll probably send a force to confirm the transports destruction and round up any survivors."

Narric

"Unfortunately I do not have a map of this region." Hertius replied to the Medic in his digital voice. "Perhaps there is something I can salvage from the ship. I shall wait for the two Sergeants to return first. There is little advantage to such a small group splitting up whilst in enemy territory."

Hertius examined the wreckage, thinking the chance of finding any working systems to be minimal at best. Turning back to the Medic, he felt he needed to make small talk, to help pass the time.

"So how did you survive the crash? Medical staff don't often number among the hardy and tough. Though that is mainly due to the lack of augmentation you Guardsmen have."

Wargamer

McTavish returned with webbing full of Hellgun mags, a long belt of heavy bolter rounds draped across his shoulders, and a Colonel's power sword fastened to his belt. "bad news, ladies; both my meltagunners were under the dropship when she came down. So was my sodding auspex apparently. Still, I reckon I've got enough firepower here to kill a Space Marine company! Either of you had any luck with your looting?"
I wrote a novel - Dreamscape: The Wanderer.. Available in paperback and pdf.

Quote from: Liberate the Warhammers
People who have no sense of Sportsmanship have NO PLACE designing any Gaming system