Page 1 of 4 123 ... LastLast
Results 1 to 10 of 35

Thread: [M] War in the Dirt - Patriots IC

  1. #1
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    7,023
    Mentioned
    68 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    349

    Default [M] War in the Dirt - Patriots IC


    CAMPAIGN 1

    Spoiler: Maniple Alpha-Rho-Phi, Menoth Martyrs, the Damned 88th - Baraspine 
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


  2. #2
    Sanity's Eclipse
    Atrum Daemon's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    The Totally Secret Moon Base
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Fantasy, Sci-Fi
    Age
    30
    Posts
    3,690
    Mentioned
    32 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    122

    Default

    The Agglomeration
    Zero Hour +8
    Maniple Objective: Assist in the Barracks Defense


    “Well this is a fine predicament,” Anarkos said as he approached Kreoss and Tarran, flashing his biometric identification. There was plasma weapon slung across his back and his hand gripped a bolt pistol. The maniple had been there to run drills along side the Menoth troops. He was eerily calm given the situation and his soldiers had snapped to action as best they were able. Galvanic rifles let out sharp cracks against the snaps of lasrifles as the Skitarii returned fire from relatively covered positions.

    Underneath the vat-grown flesh, the Skitarii were all suitably augmented and Donovan the most out of the bunch. Though the extent of his augments was only obvious through the way his eyes shined. It was a wish of the Dominus that the Skitarii be outwardly human in appearance since they fought alongside the hulking robots of the Cybernetica. But there was little time or point in appearances as such and Donovan showed as much when a stray lasbolt glanced off near the right side of his face, charring away the cheek to reveal the bionics beneath. He identified the source of the shot and fired his pistol in return, blasting off the offending soldier’s right arm at the shoulder.

    “Well the Nebulas make this feel almost like home,” the Tribune said as he looked between Kreoss and Tarran, “but that’s beside the point. This is a sub-optimal situation, certainly. My men can keep the suppression up but not too long. Close quarters are not the best for galvanic rifles in the long term.”

    The Skitarii had been running long-range drills but tended to use their arc rifles for closer quarters like indoors. Anarkos knew his men could make do but it was, as he said, sub-optimal. He was not attempting to talk down to the Captain, just make her aware of how his men were able to operate as he simply did not expect non-Mechanicus to understand how Skitarii functioned.

  3. #3
    The Last Remembrancer
    dakkagor's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    the luminous Aether
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Modern times or Sci-Fi games.
    Posts
    1,979
    Mentioned
    56 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    183

    Default

    “Well the Nebulas make this feel almost like home,” the Tribune said as he looked between Kreoss and Tarran, “but that’s beside the point. This is a sub-optimal situation, certainly. My men can keep the suppression up but not too long. Close quarters are not the best for galvanic rifles in the long term.”

    "Then its a good thing we aren't relying on you toaster fondler's to actually do any work." Growled a huge, bearded slab of meat and flak that emerged from behind Tarrans armoured form. Looming behind the man was an even larger square shouldered killer carrying a vox in one hand and a las-carbine in another. Briefly, the first man turned and yelled orders in a deafening bellow at nearby special weapon troopers who had arrived with the handful of Nebulas. Grenade launchers soon joined the Skitarii counter fire, lobbing frags into the wedge of advancing boarders while accurate hails of lasfire broke up the formation and drove it back.

    "Jarn Hassek, Colonel, Damned 88th, I'm your ride. So if you could kindly unscrew your thumb from out your arse, and reattach it to a tentacle or other appendage, we might get out of here alive. Once our ship swings back around we'll have minutes to get those dress wearing kiddy fondlers and your cog fuckers out via the transit ways. So have your 'men' ready to leave."

    As he spoke, more teams fast roped into the cavernous training bay. Some of these carried flamers and stank of promethium, while others carefully manhandled a standard, rust red munitorum armoured container down from the roof and into the bay. The flamer troopers bulled forwards and washed several of the access points with roaring curtains of flame, while a stout woman covered in flame tattoos and stinking of promethium jelly emerged from inside the container, slamming it shut and giving Jarn a thumbs up and a manic grin.

    The Colonel’s crude speech aside, the Tribune was at least pleased there was a way off the station. Magos Dominus Krypter was, as Anarkos’s interface told him, readying to depart with the five robots that made up the heart of the maniple: four Castellex and one mighty Thanatar. Binaric commands left the Tribune and the Skitarii obeyed in due haste, maneuvering from their static positions while keeping up suppressive fire to positions closer to the heart. They would be ready to depart at a moment’s notice.
    “We’re ready to go as soon as your ship comes back. That’s quite the parting gift you’re leaving.”
    The grin on the Tribune’s face was made more sinister since he was missing almost half the skin. He had a great appreciation for all manner of fiery destruction and it was only due to the heavy emotional suppressants in his augments that he was not more outwardly pleased about it. The sooner they could get off that deathtrap of a station and to a proper battlefield, the better.


    "Oh yes, it should be an explosive parting gift!" the woman cackled as she snapped a pair of goggles onto her soot covered space, and was then handed a flamer. "Now, sirs, if you'll excuse me, I need to introduce some Imperials to the concept of irony." She took of at a jog, and a fierce cheer came up from the barbaric renegades as they surged across the hanger bay, driving back the Imperial boarders.

    "We'll launch a counter attack, shake the cunts loose of the perimeter and drive them back. Once we've got some breathing space, we can pull out by the numbers." The brutish Hassek flicked a look towards the Nebula officer. "If that's alright with the hero of the Rebellion."

  4. #4
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    7,023
    Mentioned
    68 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    349

    Default

    Spoiler: Maniple Alpha-Rho-Phi, the Damned 88th - Baraspine 
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 01-14-2019 at 08:28 PM.
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


  5. #5
    Sanity's Eclipse
    Atrum Daemon's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    The Totally Secret Moon Base
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Fantasy, Sci-Fi
    Age
    30
    Posts
    3,690
    Mentioned
    32 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    122

    Default

    “High up, boys! Marksman priority, the rest of us prepare for closer engagements.”

    A series of red-clad soldiers charged up the gantry, folding out into a firing line along it and picking targets at their leisure. The sharp cracks of their rifles rang out starkly as they fired upon the Imperial masses below, volleys meant to dishearten and harass at first before picking out targets of priority or opportunity such as officers or weapon specialists.

    The rest on the ground formed up around the Tribune in covered positions, a few drawing side arms and arc weapons in preparation for closer quarters. Donovan slung his rifle to his shoulder and pulled the trigger after sighting down the advancing formation. A glaring volley of plasma fire erupted from the weapon to rake the front rows of the advance. The caliver burst was meant more as a distraction with the display of light that came with the volley as well as the destructive intent. The Tribune quickly released the trigger and ducked down behind a raised barrier, thanking Omnissiah and Machine Spirit that the weapon had been true to him yet again.

    There was little for it now but to wait until the Colonel’s men were ready for their counterattack. Donovan relayed to his troops to join in at their best when it happened as he did not want them to be shown up too badly by a cadre of fleshlings. And the Tribune was taking this whole mess as a lesson in continued preparedness for engagements. The lion’s share of the Rangers were on the gantry firing down at the Imperials while a small number were with him, ready to charge. What wider surveys he could access from his position at least told him that the rest of the Maniple was active but he could not safely contact them. The Sicarians would be a wonderful asset right then.

    But luck was a raging bitch more often than not for him.
    Hit me up on discord: Mags#3126
    I'm just easier to get a hold of there. Just lemme know who you are

  6. #6
    The Last Remembrancer
    dakkagor's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    the luminous Aether
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Modern times or Sci-Fi games.
    Posts
    1,979
    Mentioned
    56 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    183

    Default

    "You didn't bring rebreathers! You fucking moron! Your damn whore of a mother must have been drunk when she shat you into existence! All of you child fondling church buggerers are fucking idiots!"

    Jarn was yelling at the choking, blue faced menite crumpled next to him. His own tirade was muffled by the rebreather mask over his face, Kantreal MKXIII rebreather with filter, good for 2 hours of combat in low oxygen, toxic or smoke heavy environments. They had stolen these from a fat munitorum cargo hauler years ago and he had kept them for just such a smoky day.

    He reached down and grabbed the menite by the ruff of his robes. The man clawed at his arm and his masked face, leaving streaky sweat marks on his plastek visor.

    "Go fucking see what the imperials are doing!"

    With a grunt, he hurled the man over the barricade. He listened to the man stumbled blindly forwards, and then the rattling thump of combat shotguns, and the wet sounds of flesh tearing.

    The imperials were getting closer, then. Careful not to breath in the toxic smoke, he lifted his mask, spat, and pulled it securely into place.

    "88 Actual to all units on the perimeter! Prepare to resist storm assault!"

    Grenades clattered over the barricade. Jarn kicked one away and Ulf threw one back to detonate dully against the steel shields of the boarders. He heard screams and explosions from along the line, and yells for medics. He tuned it out, waited for the moment, watched as the enemy picked up the pace and broke into their charge, letting the fire slacken for just a second.

    "Now! Now!"

    Jarn leapt to his feet, Ulf a step behind him, and two squads of infantry. Meltas brought to burn through bulkheads catching men mid stride and blasting them to ash, krak grenades punching through shields in plumes of fire. There were a lot less of them than he expected, and the beams of searing white light from the gantry explained that. The hereteks were doing their job at least. Shotguns roared and lasguns spat back as Jarn and his men covered the short distance to the enemy in a mad counter charge.

    The Damned hit the line like a battering ram. Jarn shouldered into the press, bolt pistol spitting death and his axe taking a kill tally. He carved through three men in as many blows, and into the breach his squad poured in, firing point blank and attacking with their own hull-axes and chainblades. A blow sent his pistol spinning away, so Jarn snatched up a shield, ramming its edge into a mans neck and stepping over his twitching corpse to tear another man down. He roared heresies at the Imperials, damning their Emperor, their priests, their officers, them. His men bayed for vengeance for their lost homes, loves, lives. The pent up fury was a physical force pushing them forwards, breaking the solid block of Imperials apart until Jarn was suddenly clear of the scrum, breathing in ragged gasps as he came face to face with the commissar.

    "And fuck you especially, hangman." He snarled. He threw the battered bloodstained shield to one side and drew his second axe as the Commissar raised a chainsword and charged.

    + + + + + +

    Droplaug leaned slightly to the right, and extended her right arm, locking it out with an axe braced and ready.

    They said she didn't feel anything any more. That it had all been burned out of her, except for her hate. That was the barracks rumour, anyway.
    That wasn't true.
    She felt the impact run up her arm, the tremor of the axe carving through a Commissars yielding neck. She flicked the axe clean and re-sheathed it as she and her squad raced on.
    She felt good about that as she came to a stop just behind her Colonel.

    + + + + + +

    Jarn huffed as the body of the Commissar slid to a halt at his feet. He turned and stomped towards Droplaug, pressing her face mask against his.

    "Took your fucking time!" He yelled.

    "Sorry Sir, getting the scrambler company aboard took some doing." Droplaug pulled out a map and spread it across the grumbling engine of her bike. "We've cut into their rear here, here, here. Blown up this transit way and left some flamer teams to set fires and retreat behind them."

    "Good! We'll push up to here, hold them at this throughfare. Its a market?"

    "Yes. Some prime looting, women and children and the like."

    "Get to it!"

    Droplaug broke the hold and roared away. Jarn gestured Ulf over from where he had been stamping on the necks of downed armsmen, the remainder dead or retreating. He grabbed the vox and started issuing orders. With the charge broken and its reinforcements in disarray, they could finally push the imperials back and make some breathing room.

    + + + + + +

    Starolf told his rider to bring his bike to a halt as they neared the mechanicus reactor-shrine. The double doors were clearly designed for keeping people out, and they had the mechanicus symbol, half skull, half machine, haloed by a cog, stamped in the middle in brass. Starolf had no particular love of the mechanicus. Like all of the Jotunhel natives, he held them to blame for the destruction of his homeworld. However, he had taken pains to understand them. He knew that most of them were drones, no better than ice bettles, following the orders of their queens. A squad of his hand picked scouts dismounted, leaving two dozen bikes and a pair of stripped down tauroxs ready to take on plunder.

    Four skitarii emerged from alcoves on the walls leading to the door, and halted his progress with held out hands.

    "STATE YOUR BUSINESS"

    "Evacuation." Starolf shrugged. "If you haven't noticed, the station is about to fall. The order is to evacuate anyone we can, and your priests are high value assets."

    There was a moment as the skitarii communicated with its master in the temple.

    "NEGATIVE. MECHANICUS SECT PURSUES NEUTRALITY IN INTER-IMPERIAL CONFLICT. EVACUATION NOT REQUIRED. PLEASE LEAVE."

    Starolf grabbed the skitarii by the shoulder, jammed a pistol under his helmet and blew its augmented head to chunks. His scouts snapped up lascarbines from ready positions and hosed down the robot-men with a blaze of fire, throwing broken bodies against the sealed portal.

    "I wasn't asking."

    Two of his scouts stepped forward and used the hull cutters they had brought for this purpose. The doors thundered backwards as they were cut apart, and Starolf led the advance. Another pair of skitarii ran fowards to bar their progress, and they were cut down with loose, brutal shots.

    "Enough!" one of the priests yelled. "You bring violence into a holy place!" Starolf regarded the tech priest gliding towards him. He was heavily modified, with spindly arms designed for inputing data into the Imperiums cogitators, if he was any judge. Those arms were outstretched in a plea for mercy that Starolf knew all to well.

    "Are you in charge here?" Starolf asked flatly.

    "No. . .I speak for the magos of this reactor sector." He gestured towards a towering thing that was tottering towards them on three piston legs with a wheezing, galvanic hump and a face of waving, frond like data jacks.

    "Will he issue an evacuation order for this sector of the station, under the orders of Governor Tierce?"

    "He will not."

    Starolf nodded. He cast an eye on the adepts around him. Data punchers, gear heads and grease jackers. Very few seemed like a threat. All seemed cowed by the display of violence that had left a handful of Skitarii smoking heaps on the floor.

    "Shame that." He snapped his fingers, and his men opened fire. The lumbering tripod priest went down in a hail of lasbolts that set his oily red robes alight. The priest crumpled to the floor with a pitiful code laced squeal, where two of the scout cadre repeatedly bayoneted him until he stopped moving.

    "Congratulations on the promotion, Magos." Starolf clamped a hand and a vice grip on the priests shoulder. "Now, I ask you, will you issue an evacuation order for this sector of the station, under the orders of Governor Tierce? Or do I need to promote someone else?"

    The olive coloured, broad featured tech priest regarded him with very mortal fear in his eyes, before casting a glance at the ruined hulk that had been dismembered on the floor, and the two dead skitarii in the temple precinct.

    "I will."

    "Good man. Err. Thing. Whatever. What's your name, anyway?"

    "I am Enginseer Brandt."

    "Brandt. Good solid name that, Magos." He threw an arm around the priests shoulders and guided him towards the doors. The scrambler drivers were now hauling det-packs and demo charges into the reactor-temple, even as the scouts hurried the other priests out of the temple.

    "We've got a lovely ship for you to visit, real killer, one of a kind. I know you'll love it aboard, and we have some positions available that would be right up your street."

  7. #7
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    7,023
    Mentioned
    68 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    349

    Default

    Spoiler: Maniple Alpha-Rho-Phi, the Damned 88th - Baraspine 
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


  8. #8
    The Last Remembrancer
    dakkagor's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    the luminous Aether
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Modern times or Sci-Fi games.
    Posts
    1,979
    Mentioned
    56 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    183

    Default

    "Oh fuck me."

    Jarn watched as his cover disappeared. Some frakking loyalist cogboy no doubt.

    "Everyone grab shields! Quickly!"

    The deck was fairly littered with dead armsman, but no-where near enough for all his soldiers. But it would make a difference. With the skill of people who had lived through nightmare fragfests by stripping the dead and the dying, the Jotunhel renegades dug in, ripping shields and spare rebreathers from the dead and dying. Jarn quickly formed up a platoons worth with mostly intact shields, while his few heavy and special weapon teams began to haul piles of bodies, friends, enemies and allies alike, and dump them down as bleeding barricades.

    "My damn ship had better get back here soon or we are dead men." Jarn growled. He gestured for Ulf who handed him the vox. "Droplaug, new orders! They've got a command post back from the bay, with a cog boy in attendance. Find them and kill them!"

    There was a burp of static in reply. He thought he made out Droplaugs voice, but he couldn't be sure.

    "Keep trying until you get confirmation!" He tossed the speaker unit back to Ulf and took a quick headcount. 25? 30 at a push? Visibility was frag all.

    "You see something, you tap the guy on your left and right! We hold here, not a step back!"

    And we hope the witch hasn't left us to hang.

  9. #9
    Sanity's Eclipse
    Atrum Daemon's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    The Totally Secret Moon Base
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Fantasy, Sci-Fi
    Age
    30
    Posts
    3,690
    Mentioned
    32 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    122

    Default

    “Oh dammit all!” Donovan watched as their cover vanished. Loyalist enginseer for certain and now a priority target in his mind. “Boys, adapt for low visibility. Weapons close and prepare to engage in the smoke. Watch each other close and tag potential targets for focus. Marksmen above, keep the pressure on and those loyalists suppressed. Rest of you, advance up with me! Anything in the smoke gets removed.”

    Side arms and deadly knives appeared in the hands of the Skitarii. They moved forward from what had been a good barricade and began their push under the cover of continued rifle fire. Their target was ultimately the same as Jarn’s: the command post with the techpriest. It had to be done and they had to gain ground one way or another. The loyalists lessening their fire could pay dividends for them as they moved into the unavoidable smoke. They came upon a few loyalists trying to retreat their way through the obscuring cover and cut them down in a brutal salvo of pistol fire before spreading their numbers out so as not to make an obvious spot as they advanced.

    “Don’t waste any chances. A necessary risk is all this is, boys.”
    Hit me up on discord: Mags#3126
    I'm just easier to get a hold of there. Just lemme know who you are

  10. #10
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    7,023
    Mentioned
    68 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    349

    Default

    Spoiler: Maniple Alpha-Rho-Phi, the Damned 88th - Baraspine 
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


Page 1 of 4 123 ... LastLast

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •