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Post by Melissia on Jul 10, 2009 12:53:02 GMT -5
The sky streaked with fireballs as the Astartes elements dropped in first on the designated landing site. As their pods and thunderhawks landed and they exited, they saw a group of soldiers waiting by their chimeras at parade rest, and a damocles command variant rhino pull in front of the line. It was this rhino that had contacted the fleet.
A woman who looked more like a pirate than a honest-to-goodness Emperor's Servant stepped out, strange birdlike pet still on her shoulder. Behind her was a woman in deep burgundy silk robes, with a hood over her head and a slight violet glow under the hood. Symbols of the sanctified psyker hung from her neck, over the robe, telling everyone who and what she was.
Nodding to the Astartes, the woman stated "At ease." as the rest of the reinforcements began setting down. Then she frowned, and began her speech.
"I noticed that the company's commissar died heroically in battle remarkably far away from the front lines." She did not look pleased, although the others in the company did. Commissars did not often endear themselves to the company, either officers OR soldiers.
Their smiles and snickers died in birth, however, as the hulking greenskinned figure stepped out, dressed in a crisp uniform of tan and grey camoflage and a smart tan and grey camoflaged cap. on his belt were two very sizeable weapons-- a storm bolter and a large single-bladed power axe, both of which the brute could very easilly wield with one hand each. What surprised them even more is that he gave the woman a salute, and snapped to attention-- as much as an Ork can stand at attention anyway, due to his hulking, somewhat hunched over frame.
"So I went and fetched an Ork and beat him senseless-- mind you, that's not an easy task, as with Orks you first have to beat sense into them before you can beat it right back out-- and had a Psyker bind him to me so that he thinks that I fit the orkish concept of someone "bigga" than him, and thus his boss."
The Ork seemed completely unperturbed as he stood there, and indeed seemed to be instead staring down anyone who dared look at his face, in a look of undisguised hostility. He may be chained in service to the Emperor, but he is still an Ork, and thus dangerously malevolent and warlike by human standards even if he is highly disciplined by Ork standards.
"Where was I? Oh, right. What I mean to say is, I don't like the fact that the commissar of the company died heroically in combat so far away from the front lines. Until we get a replacement commissar, I am temporarily promoting Groknar Skullsplitta here to Kommissar Pro-Tem-- that is to say, with a K, not an actual commissar because even if he was human he'd not be qualified, and being a Xeno he is obviously instantly disqualified. But what he DOES have is a commissar's blatant disregard for the value of your lives unless you are fighting my enemies, and the ability and authority (from me) to express that displeasure in a suitably morale-boosting manner."
As if to emphasize the Rogue Trader's point, the Ork stood up to his utmost fullets, making him the size of an Astartes as he stared down the humans under the Rogue Trader's command. None of them matched his gaze, and he looked pleased with himself, as much as an Ork can be happy when not fighting, anyway.
"I hope I have made my point."
The Guardsmen looked at eachother uneasilly for a few moments, before a gruff voice called their attention.
"OI! Boss asked ya a queshtion . You best ansa, ya runty gits!"
Immediently, they snapped to attention and a chorus of "Sir, Yes SIr!"s were heard, bringing another wave of joy from the Ork's mouth, which seemed to put the soldiers at ease a bit. But only a bit... they were trained to kill xenos like him, and yet here they were...
By this time, most of the forces in deployment had been assembled, at least in part. This included some of the Adepta Sororitas, whom looked disturbed to see an Ork. Later it was discovered that the Palatine had to actively order her Sisters not to shoot the Ork, and only did so because she knew the Rogue Trader in question. It turns out Melissia's family passed down the authority of the Rogue Trader from the days before the Great Crusade, and it was written by the Emperor Himself, granting her no small amount of prestige.
And so she waited, for all forces to be assembled and report in. For now, she was in command, until they could get a proper command post set up so they could reliably relay orders from the fleet.
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Post by nicholasakira on Jul 10, 2009 12:53:28 GMT -5
With a crude rattle, the ork trukk swept across the empty desert, its whipping black wheels left a streak of smoky dust in its wake, marking its path through the dunes. Its ramshackle hull had the severed hands of human fighters nailed to it: grisly trophies from those unfortunates it had murdered during its speeding career upon Shibara I.
Abruptly, the trukk erupted into an oily fireball, its occupants rendered to shredded remains, its cartwheeling wreck flung mercilessly across the sand. It came to a stop upside down, its jagged wheels still spinning.
A survivor pulled itself free, cursing the mek for driving through here. Its arms hadn’t freed it from the wreck when one of the dunes shifted, sand coming away in a miniature avalanche. And coming forth from the dune… The ork beheld an eldar skiff, long and sleek, its laser cannons painted white.
‘Eldars?’ the ork thought in surprise, ‘here? Da ‘umies workin wit pointy-ears?’
The ork tried to grab for a rokkit-launcha that had tumbled close to him so he could load it. An armored foot stomped onto his fingers. The ork looked up into hollow end of a long rifle…
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Post by Helmian (M.I.A) on Jul 10, 2009 13:19:54 GMT -5
''How come this woman is taking command brother-sergeant?'' Battle brother Lexhat asked over the helmet vox.
''I do not know brother, but it is not of our concern.'' Armand Replied.
----------------
''Good to know rouge trader. May the Emperor watch over you.'' Chaplain Aulus Tertinius said.
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Post by Melissia on Jul 10, 2009 13:32:12 GMT -5
Seeming to have ears that could hear a deactivated necron's breathing, the woman nodded to the Astartes. "For those of us still wondering why I'm in charge, I am outside of the command structure of the Imperial Guard. Ergo, I can make decisions on the fly and I don't have to report to anyone about them. Nromally they would have used a Commissar for that purpose, but he mysteriously died from an.... Ork lasgun using sniper."
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Jul 10, 2009 13:54:25 GMT -5
Van Dremmond watched the rest of the unit deploy from his perch atop a Chimera. McVane was already out on patrol. Sgt. Garth was shouting at somebody about forgetting ammo back on the drop ship. Lt. Miras was trying to figure out how he had lost tract of a Sentinel in the throng, which was impressive considering that he only had to keep track of three, and he was in one of them. In short, it was a typical Guard landing.
Then there were the tanks. The Crusade had brought the much vaunted 218st New Arnehm Armoured with it, and the remains of Van Dremmond's company had been assigned to the armoured detachment that was headed to this Sandbox of a planet to help bolster their strength.
The tanks were painted in a light desert camo scheme, although many of them still proudly bore the badge of the Cadian Gate on their turrets, which they had earned in their last deployment. Kill markings and slogans adorned the turrets, and the hull was packed with gear and stowage. The tankers themselves were quite a bit different from most of Van Dremmond's men. They were older, many with scars or burns, and had a hard edge to them that was uncommon among most Arhemites.
'Look alive Van."
Van Dremmond started a bit, and glanced down. Major Dunbar, the commander of the Armoured detachment, was standing beside the Chimera, looking up at him expectantly. He was tall for a tanker, with pre-naturally grey hair and a crescent shaped scar above his eye where an errant shell casing had stuck him in the face on Armageddon. Van Dremmond had yet to see him smile.
"Come on, lets go talk to whoever is running this circus." Dunbar turned, and began to walk toward the HQ. Van Dremmond slid down off the Chimera and followed.
The two men strode up to the group of officers and Astartes.
Dunbar saluted casually "281st signing in. Where do you need armour?"
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Post by Kaikelx on Jul 10, 2009 14:23:28 GMT -5
Asis whipped around to face Xiang.
"Wait, we're going in by ourselves!?"
Xiang backed away, raising his hands in a comical gesture.
"No, there's some other Guard forces on the ground. I'm trying to arrange for someone to place some beacons, so we can use our ships to drop you straight onto the ground. But until they find the enemy, and I arrange for the deep strike, you're going to have to wait in the Mlanders on standby."
"Please don't tell me I have to stay in a pod for hours...."
"You have t-"
"Or I might just accidentally drop a bit early...."
Xiang sighed. With any other Major/Captain conversation, Asis would've been in a heck of a lot of trouble. But, he had known her for years. He knew better than to ignore her opinion.
"I was just joking.....You'll just have to stay in the craft. That way, we'll arrive soon enough to actually be useful."
"Heh, for a second, I thought I'd have to shove you into a pod for six hours."
"Dream on, like you could."
-Later-
"This is Royals, uh....we're looking for a....*a short pause* a rouge trader! Yeah, her. Well, not her, uh...I mean sir. Er.....Ma'am....Uh......
Anyways ma'am. We're on standby, way up in orbit. Thing is, I need someone, or someones to place a few beacons in order for us to drop. Or, if it's combat, we can just go by the coordinates. Yeah....I'd just thought I let you know ma'am....."
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Post by The Refined Gentleman (M.I.A) on Jul 10, 2009 14:28:51 GMT -5
Through, snake like, predator eyes he looked into the storm.
Mountain peaks stood as great titans, silent wardens of the natural landscapes. He could feel the anguish of them as the orks burrowed into the cliffs. There were endless streams of gretchin and lower orks, those that exited heaved great lumps of ore. Backs broke and alien grunts resounded through the wind and mountain peaks.
The monian colonel was appalled, how such represent, beautiful white landscape was despoiled by the petty green thieves. He could sense the storm picking up, his face began to sting with the impacts of sand grains. Monians never felt cold, but he was burning up in the heat of the desert.
Not only did it anger him, the orks needed this resource to fuel their war.
Varlon glanced aside as he saw Major Coraz come up the slope behind him, lasgun primed. His blue bandanna tightened as ever around his forehead, his free hand twitched, begging to grasp his wraithbane.
The detatchment of the monian 37th regiment to be assigned to this falk forsaken world had to have a complete rethink of gear. They still had cloaks but their white fatigues were swapped for beige and dull yellow camo scheme and goggles to protect from the sand which made Forzak feel more like part of the crowd. The only reason he ever wore the damn things was to stand out. Apart from that that they had the usual gear. They kept the face masks to help disguise their white, pale skin
He brought his hand to his comm bead. "Target roach is sighted command. Preparing to engage." The colonel gestured to Coraz to move. "Where did you say the pass was Cor?" "To the east." "From there we'll split. I think the storms picking up so they'll be none the wiser until we're right up close." The two commandos entered the cavern and the pair were allowed shelter from the blistering rays of the violent sun and the tornado of sand.
Varlon's timing couldn't be better. "Down!" He hissed.
Two of the hulking brutes passed, Coraz found it hard not to gag at their foul body odor. One held aloft a larger gun and the other dual axes.
Varlon drew his bolter and Coraz, his lasgun. Both equipped with silencing modules. "On my count." Varlon whispered. Just as one began to turn they both fired. The two orks died with an expression of horror and surprise etched into their faces like stone.
"Move." They both continued their advance.
There was a perimeter fence up ahead. The place was undoubtedly an abandoned Imperial complex. Sand billowed up in a fury and only the monians with instincts and abilities developed over generations of life in a wasteland (frozen or not) built into their genetics could see more than a meter ahead.
"Alright. The tracks should be parked round back." Varlon mouthed to Coraz.
"Come back alive."
With that they both departed. For the next 20 minutes they both snaked through the airfield, going about their sub-overt work.
Coraz was now at this point in an old changing room. Naked bodies were slumped in showers and their blood running free in the water.
He swerved into the cover of the shadow as a stench entered the room.
Coraz peaked round, relieved to see it was just a gretchin. The monian rushed it, swiftly cracking its cranium against the nearby block of lockers and running it through with his longknife.
"Where to now sir?" He whispered into his comm bead.
"We'll meet at the airstrip, from there we'll..."
The two were both interrupted as red lights flashed and deafening alarms blared in their ears.
"Falk!!!"
Both started to dart for the airfield. The sun was rising and dawns light was now cast across the landscape.
Hundreds of green shapes milled around as the storm lifted and the search for the stealthers in their mist began. They would not best the Monian Wraiths this day.
Varlon and Coraz both ran the width of the airfield. In their frantic search the monians broke through the crowd of orks in the airfield, their camocloaks and momentum took advantage of the greenskins confusion.
"To the hanger!!!" Varlon yelled at Coraz as both ran with the natural speed and reflex natural to people of their world.
Coraz made it first, hiding in the control room.
What surprised him was a gruff, booming voice outside.
"You in derz!!! Comes out and we wont killz ya!!!"
It was the warboss, he was speaking GOTHIC! Coraz decided to hazard a look through the window to see Varlon, held at the tip of uncounted, eager, ork firearms.
"I sed! Comz out!!!"
Varlons voice was heard in his comm bead.
"Time for plan B Cor."
The major nodded as if the colonel could see him and pulled the device out of his pouch.
Orks all around, even the warboss turned to the ripple of mass explosions as a chain of ammo depot's erupted on the other side of the airfield. The two monians didn't squander their chance.
Varlon broke from the stand off and ran for the door at the back of the hanger, Coraz did the same. They were immediately met by a slope, steepened at a frightening angle.
They both threw themselves onto the recess, a fountain of rock grains kicked up as the stealthers slid.
Varlon barged into the rusted door of the shed at the bottom and grinned. As did the greenskins now surrounding the building. Preparing to approach for the final blow.
Confusion spread like a virus through their ranks as two vehicles smashed through the shed wall. Only a trail of messy ork corpses were left in their wake.
Snowtracks, a vehicle unique to monian units. They were perfect for the environment intended for them. The heavier models came with heavy weapon mounts but they had opted for the lighter model for this mission. Perfectly storable in a hidden spot. Despite the name they still worked well all the same.
Varlon and Coraz both laughed heartily as they watched the fireworks.
Red and orange clouds, many getting as high as 20 stories erupted from the base. Orks were incinerated in their masses as the airfield and mining facility were utterly obliterated. No longer would they plunder this mountain!
The monians joy was short lived as the cliff edge drew closer to them.
It was too late. Varlon suddenly found himself without ground below him. His snowtrack fell away.
Before he knew it, he was falling into the abyss...
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Post by nicholasakira on Jul 10, 2009 14:38:51 GMT -5
Fenera finished tying the rag around her face and head. Her eldar body was clad in brown, loose desert robes that covered him from even the most trained eye. Shouldering planting her oak staff into the sand, she turned to the rangers: all dressed identically. The farseer’s eyes could even understand which of these ragged rangers was her brother, whom she had been called to summon back to Alaitoc. Sadness darkened her heart as she thought of home. If the attack had not been so sudden, she would not have gotten stranded here. If her brother and his rangers were not here, she wouldn’t have come in the first place. The rangers were now all here, except for Jara’naxifus and four other rangers, who wielded their wave serpent far out of the eyes of the humans who were arriving. Those five who were not present were dead: killed since the invasion began.
Now, in a conflict that had seemed unwinnable, a glimmer of hope showed its gentle face. The humans had arrived in force upon the planet. Hurriedly, the rag-tag eldar force sought refuge with the newcomers.
Remember she said in her native tongue, we are humans. When we greet these newcomers, we speak in their language. The other rangers nodded. She clapped her gloved hands and the rangers leapt into the crude human buggies that stood on either side of their little assembly: the last remnants of a resistance force they had aided for so long against the foul greenskins.
I don’t like impersonating Mon-Keigh, cursed Mhaldin as he stepped over to his sister. Their clothes smell and their brutish language hurts my mouth.
These are your warriors, Fenera replied sternly, but it is my command. She held forward the prayer beads. From them hung the insignia of the Imperium. Do I make a convincing chaplain? Mhaldin shurgged, turned around and got into a buggy. Fenera following him.
"Remember," she said, now speaking human, "like this!"
With a hoggish snort, the vehicles rumbled to life and set off across the sands towards the distant human formation.
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Jul 10, 2009 14:46:17 GMT -5
"Eyes West. We have contacts."
McVane peered off to his left, and, sure enough, he could make out several approaching vehicles. He grinned.
"Alright, Keeley, right, Walldoon, left. If these guys turn out to be hostile, we can scissor them. No one fires until I do."
The two other Salamanders voxed confirmation. The three vehicles fanned out, and swung toward the approaching contacts.
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Post by nicholasakira on Jul 10, 2009 14:52:10 GMT -5
Hauling herself forth from the rude human transport, Fenera looked up into the faces of the men who stared down at her from atop their three tracked vehicles. She held up her hands peacefully, showing them her prayer beads.
"The Emperor's peace unto you, men of the guard," Fenera called up. "I am Fenera, humble servant of the Emperor. Behind me lies my cell of fighters; the last remnants of a much vaster group. We have been fighting the orks since they arrived first violated our home. We have much to say. Who are you?"
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Jul 10, 2009 15:02:54 GMT -5
McVane had smiled when the first person had emerged from the trucks, relived that they weren't about to get ambushed by Orks.
When their leader spoke, the words struck his ear a little wrong, causing something to tug at the back of his mind. He ignored it.
Saluting, he flashed his best winning smile. 'Sgt. McVane, New Arnhem Recon." His eyes slid over the column of vehicles. "Are you PDF remnants?"
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Post by Ymmot (M.I.A) on Jul 10, 2009 15:06:25 GMT -5
They arrived by way of two Thunderhawk transport carrier variants loaded with a total of three rhinos and one predator tank, each transport was loaded and the Astartes inside secured. The ride in had been choppy as they used the atmospheric disturbance of a sand storm to arrive without causing as much disturbance as possible. The Tank and the Rhinos dropped and landed hard atop the swirling sand as the Thunderhawks soared away...leaving Volgrum and his men alone in the desert.
"Begin monitoring communications at once, I want a full tactical analysis of the situation here, Our orders are to keep a low profile for as long as necessary."
It it was only a few more hours until dawn, by then the storm would likely pass and they would be buried among the dunes. Sgt Volgrum stooped in the doorway of the driver's compartment in the command rhino and spoke to the tech marine adepts who manned the controls. "I want all channels we can receive on our long range antennas and I want to know exactly what is happening out there."
"Yes Brother Sargent." intoned on of the adepts. "but we must wait for the storm to pass before we can begin to receive the full planetary wide communications."
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Post by nicholasakira on Jul 10, 2009 15:10:21 GMT -5
"No. We are but militia. Simple sons, fathers, brothers..." Fenera waved to the human vehicles. Trucks? Was that the term? The rangers disembarked, unarmed with the exception of Mhaldin, who carried the rusty lasgun he'd taken off a dead PDF trooper. "Our protection has been taken away by the invader. We're on our own. Bless you, officer, to see true warriors of the Emperor here to save us brings light into my darkened life. May the Emperor reward and protect you, our saviors."
"I am Jonson," claimed Mhaldin as he stepped up alongside Fenera. "What outfit are you with?" His human accent was impressive, much better than Fenera's. All rangers were said to have good human accents.
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Jul 10, 2009 15:20:26 GMT -5
The whole time the woman had been talking, a little voice in the back of McVane's head had been screaming "She doesn't sound Shiraban!". His smile had become rather fixed, but became more genuine when the man spoke. He sounded like a Shiraban.
"Can't tell you that, sorry. That would be..." his eyes rolled skyward, as if reciting something from a script "...A violation of combat doctrine and would jeopardize the security of the mission." He grinned at them apologetically "Or so I'm told. All I can tell you is that I'm Guard. You guys want a hand? I can call this in and request permission to bring you back to base, if you want."
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Post by nicholasakira on Jul 10, 2009 15:30:26 GMT -5
"Please do," Mhaldin replied cheerfully, "we have been fighting the orks, alone out here. Some official army-boys would really make things easier for us." Mhaldin felt the soft vibration from his concealed ear-piece. Jara'naxifus was calling. He casually scratched his ear to activate it, shaking away an invisible fly. "I'd bloody love to sleep indoors for once rather than this desert. Gets freezing at night."
Mhaldin whispered Jara'naxifus' voice from the earpiece, Human warriors from off world drop in all over the planet.
"I hope its not far. Orks patrol the desert," added Mhaldin, ignoring his earpiece as the other rangers returned to their trucks.
"The Emperor will protect us," Fenera added, turning around to return to their own human vehicles.
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Post by The Refined Gentleman (M.I.A) on Jul 10, 2009 15:35:11 GMT -5
Was he dead?
Was this what death held for him? To Varlon at this moment it held for him muffled sounds and a cascade of blue bubbles. Wait, bubbles?
He opened his eyes, only to see that he was not dead.
Deep below he could only just witness the snowtrack as it faded into the tropical blue mist. The colonel could only just make out the distant figure of Major Coraz as he began making for the surface.
The monian officer was never so glad to breath the air, even if it was still, heated and burnt in his throat.
Varlon lifted his head. They had fallen into an oasis at the bottom of the cliff, a 80 feet decent. The mystery of how they survived such an ordeal would haunt the colonel to his last breath. It took a minute for the two troopers to drag themselves to the shore. In the shade of the cliff face it was now easier to appreciate what little beauty this world truly held. Varlon and Coraz crashed out on the dry, soft sand. To the iceworlders, it was truly marvellous. The luscious green of the tropical vegetation, small flying insects with 4 sets of wings and antennae.
“Its not so falking bad is it.” Coraz muttered, his voice exasperated and rasping. They were both tired out of their minds. They revelled in the shade as it soothed their sticky, sweat caked, pale skin.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Varlon replied, too completely wiped out to come out with something more imaginative.
Their brief moment of bliss was quickly interrupted by a crackle of vox static...
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Post by Kaikelx on Jul 10, 2009 15:38:04 GMT -5
Corproal Saler was nervous. Sergea-Captain Asis had told them to wait in the landers. Oh, they weren't flying. They'd head off into high atmo once the main force spotted a large enough enemy force. Well, that's what she was told. Point was, she was nervous about doing a hot drop. So many things could go wrong. The pod could malfunction in hundreds of ways, AA might shoot them down, chutes could fail.....
It was every drop troopers secret, worse fear, dieing not in combat, but in the drop, by some random chance.....
She breathed deaply again. She trusted Asis.
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Jul 10, 2009 15:49:58 GMT -5
"Sounds fine to me!" McVane pulled his dust goggles down over his eyes. "Jonson, was it? You're welcome to ride with me, if you want. I wouldn't mind hearing more about what we're going up against." He then turned to the other two Salamanders, gave a sharp whistle, and made a series of rapid hand gestures. Walldoon and Keeley's Salamanders roared into life, taking up positions on either side of the trucks.
Riding shotgun on the formation's left, Walldoon keyed his commbead. "Lifeguard, this is Badger. We've run across a group of what appears to be civvies, and have them under escort. Want us to bring them back to base, or deal with them?"
--------------------------------
Back at the landing site, Van Dremmond and Dunbar both heard the report in their commbeads, relayed by Eagle Eye 1. Quietly, Dunbar muttered "Keep an eye on them for now. I'll ask the boss."
He cleared his throat gently, but loudly enough to attract the Rogue Trader's attention...
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Post by nicholasakira on Jul 10, 2009 15:56:02 GMT -5
"As you wish," replied Mhaldin. Jara'naxifus: shut up he whispered. He started over to the Imperial vehicle while, behind him, his rangers started their own vehicles.
...
Outside, the crude orkish convoy churned. Inside, Jara’naxifus nodded, understanding Mhaldin's request.
He was surprised. As he looked across the runes on his radar-crystal, he slowly came to realize how many humans there were. For a moment, he wondered what might happen if there was one amongst them who was smart enough to tell a bright lance wound if they saw one inflicted upon any of the charred, twisted wrecks of ork trukks he and his crew had exterminated.
‘It would be unlikely,’ he thought soothingly as he emerged from the sand dunes upon an unsuspecting ork convoy, on route towards the looted Imperial fortress, now infested with greenskins. Five shots from his gunner, five flame-blossoming wrecks were created after each singing flash of the faithful eldar cannon.
‘This vehicle was not expecting such action,’ thought Jara’naxifus as he surveyed the wrecks, where no survivors crawled from. ‘Just a quick pick-up.’ He looked at the radar-crystal. ‘We must hide.’ Jara’naxifus picked a spot on the landscape: a clear patch of desert where no Imperials momentarily waited. It would be from there where he would continue the fight. In a white flash of soft engines, the waveserpent was gone, leaving only slaughtered orks as the sign of its passing. 'I'm safe in here, out of sight,' Jara'naxifus thought. 'But Mhaldin has to keep a ruse. I pray his travels have taught him well enough.'
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Post by Melissia on Jul 10, 2009 16:22:26 GMT -5
Realizing that this must be the Eldar that she had seen with her bionic left eye, thinking that they were undetected, she nodded to the man. " You have new contacts. Something like... thirty, fourty dressed in desert robes, led by a female chaplain? Don't worry, I knew they were there. I know of every friendly contact on this planet-- don't forget, I've been on this sandheap ever since the fething Ork invasion began. Were it not for the valuable factories that needed to be recaptured, I'd have retreated with the rest of the Guard forces instead of staying here to plot our plan of attack when the crusade arrived." One of her bodyguards-- a large, muscular man in carapace armor with a bolt pistol and chainsword-- wheeled out a particularly large dataslate, which appeared to have a map on it. [Click on the thumbnail for the full image]" Excuse my quote unquote artistic abilities. currently, we're at the most isolated location of the most major population center on the planet. Once we take this fortress, we'll have a good base to strike at the hive, Secundus, and Tertiaris from. The Orks, naturally, have stayed relatively clear of this fortress, except for an obnoxious "big mek", as Groknar puts it, who apparently is a form of mechanic who also happens to be big enough to boss the other Orks around. His is the force we need to watch out for, as they were last seen moving off to our south, probably to raid the main Ork forces in the hive city-- most of the hive city is underground, so this will probably diminish their force if they ARE doing this, but there's no need to take chances. The Orks took this planet once before, after all.
After we capture this fortress and fortify it, cleaning it of the Xeno filth-- in the most literal sense of the term, based on the smell that's drifting from that direction-- my suggested plan was to encircle the hive city, going from here, to Secundus, then Tertiaris, then Primaris. If we're fast enough, we'll box the Orks in the hive city and leave them desparate to break out, causing them to make stupid moves now that their warboss is no longer leading them." A prayer to the Emperor was stated by many of the Shibaran soldiers present, remembering Kyznetsov's sacrifice. " There is a sizeable camp in both Fort Macharius and in a makeshift Ork city with several smaller, poorly built forts surrounding it. The Orks seem to move from one fort to the other as if they're looking for something, but what that might be I don't know.
Now that you know the situation, I'm open for ideas."
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Jul 10, 2009 16:29:50 GMT -5
Van Dremmond nodded and touched his commbead "Bring 'em in."
Dunbar pushed forward, studied the map, and glanced up.
"I assume you had a plan for taking the fort, or were we just going to knock on the door and ask them to please leave?" he said, without a trace of sarcasm or malice.
------------------------------
McVane turned to Jonsen with an improbably huge grin. 'Good news! Command says not to kill all of you! We're going to take you back to base and get you rested up."
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Post by Melissia on Jul 10, 2009 16:32:15 GMT -5
"Quite right! My origonal plan is probably entirelly unorigonal. We have a good amount of Airborne personnel with us. The grots and meks in the fort right now are probably too busy building stuff to truelly be watchful, and so if these personnel strike fast enough-- supported by the Thunderhawk the astartes brought-- we should be able to take the closest gate. Our forces would then spill through into the fort, and clear out the bastions and the underground storage and barracks section."
She turned to look at the man. "If you have a better idea, then I'm all ears. I'm not a general, even if I did study miltiary tactics, this is my first time actually commanding anything resembling a regular military force."
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Post by The Refined Gentleman (M.I.A) on Jul 10, 2009 16:43:19 GMT -5
The compact vox set continued to crackle. The frequency of the signal was impossible to confirm. Varlon grew ever more frustrated but it proved one thing, someone out there hadn't forgotten them.
“Hello! Falk!!! Is anyone there?!”
The monian officer started the batter the machine a bit. It continued to whine and complain.
“This is whiteguard!!! Who the hell is out there?!”
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Post by Melissia on Jul 10, 2009 16:47:37 GMT -5
[ooc: Stop with the damn dark blue text! I skipped over your posts because it hurts my eyes to try and read more than a couple paragraphs ]" This is an unsecured vox line. Switch to a secure frequency." Annoyed, Palatine Belmonte waited for the man to do so, informing the other commanders that she recieved a voxcast from a man called Whiteguard.
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Jul 10, 2009 16:48:28 GMT -5
Dunbar nodded, digesting the words.
"Could work, could work. Of course, if we didn't get in fast enough, or they spotted us, or there are more of them then we expected, or something else goes wrong and they did get the gates shut, the Airborne will get slaughtered by the gun positions and we'll have to wade through a sea of blood and guts to take the place." He shrugged.
"Or, we could bring out those nice shiney Long Toms the Shiriban boys brought planetside, have them do a 'down the barrel' barrage, and blast the living hell out of the defences while the armour rolled through the camp outside. My guys can take the gate if the towers are down, no problem."
He smiled. It had a predatory nature to it.
"In the mean time, Van's scout crew and whatever light armour we have can swing around behind the base before hand and clear a DZ, have the Airborne drop in unnoticed, and, while the fighting for the fron gate is in full swing, they can sneak in the back and kick the Orks so hard in the rear that their arses will fall out of their mouths next time they speak."
He looked up at the Rogue Trader. "Then we squeeze from two sides and pop them like a ripe ploin. How does that grab you?"
Reds
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