This one... got away from me a little bit. It's Mad Max time.
Rule The Wastes - For the tribes and mutants (and even worse) that roam the Wastes between the Hives of Voxx Primus, there is nothing to be done in one's day than to scrounge up the materials for survival. There is no time for fancy art, religion that requires more than one's word (and even then mostly not even that), and for fancy dreams. But when opportunity knocks...one grabs it with gun and knive in hand.
(Focus: A violent clash between a Voxx Primus Waste Tribe and your Infiltrators.)
Well Kranti, it's now or never. You always wanted to show the instructors your true mettle. Now you're outnumbered thirty to one and your only resource is a couple hundred disloyal cutthroats.
"Star Child's holy ass, it worked." She breathed, dialing down the magnification on her goggles and turning back to the small crowd of wastelanders who'd been watching anxiously, their masked faces flitting between her dark figure and the huge cloud of dust on the horizon. She ignored the pointed look from her bodyguard. Jorg was a perfect soldier of the Federation, a deadly fighter and an accomplished shot with the longlas on his back. But he didn't swear. What kind of soldier didn't swear?
Kranti stepped forward confidently to stand on the peak of the hill and issue orders, making sure to show no trace of the yawning void that had opened in her guts. The only classes she'd done well in had been acting - and swords. "We got them all. The whole shit-smelling gang of the six-armed Chieftain are coming after us." The loose circle of wastelanders arrayed around the peak of the rocky hill shifted uneasily at her words, but the vicious smile visible through her clear mask seemed to settle them. Surely she wouldn't be smiling like that if she hadn't planned for this?
I was only trying to provoke a raiding party of a few hundred. Why did the damned chaos-spawn decide to send everything? He's coming himself!
She took a moment to survey the representatives of each group arrayed before her. They were a motley bunch, some small wasteland tribes with grudges against the six-armed whose price had been food and weapons. A few more were fresh converts to the Star Child, fervor clear in their postures. The last and largest group were a Federation-associated hiver gang who'd decided to take the chance on something - anything - else. None of them bore any special loyalty to her. But she'd shown up with the authority - and resources - of the Federation, and they'd decided to follow along for now.
Let's just not tell them that I was supposed to drop into the hive four-hundred miles west of here. That's why I have only one gremlin and a lot of food and guns. And a few other supplies not really designed for the wasteland.
"We're going to gut them like the scum they are. First, take these comm-links, timing is going to be critical. " Her grin remained as she explained the plan, watching each group react with confusion and understanding as she scoped out her expectations. It was the sort of plan that would have been shot down in an instant in the school. Too many complications, too many things that could - and would - go wrong. But Kranti didn't have a choice.
I already tried to follow my lessons. We raided one of their wells with a bare twenty hivers. They should have sent a hundred to hunt down the obvious tracks, and we could have taken them here in easy ambush. I would have built loyalties and support with easy victories, taken apart the six-armed Chieftain piece by piece. But that's not what happened. Now it's time to trust my gut and take every advantage, even the risky ones.
After just a few minutes of explanation she nodded around at them, portraying utter confidence. Nobody reflected it back at her, but they moved when she whistled and circled her finger, indicating it was time to mount up. Now she just had to hope that each group followed their orders.
She jumped into the drivers' seat of her gremlin, noting the lack of armor to the front and sides. Every piece of armor they'd been able to scrounge from the drop-pod's shell was stuck on the back, providing a protected firing perch for Jorg. She'd have loved to claim that position and see what was happening, but she'd almost failed marksmanship. Along with logistics. And tactics. And rhetoric. But if she won here, none of that mattered.
If I lose it also won't matter anymore. Hard to care about your class marks when you're dead.
She steered the gremlin out of the sheltered trio of hills and directly towards the oncoming army. Behind her the hiver gang started frantically digging into the broken dirt at the narrowest point between the two hills that faced the onrushing horde, and she saw the wasteland gangs mounting onto their assorted vehicles in the cover behind the ugly piles of rock. Hopefully they would stick to the plan, and wouldn't just decide to bail from her and her crazy plan.
Kranti didn't see the fresh converts of the Star Child taking their positions, but that was for the best. She turned to the front, paying attention to the desolate landscape in front of her, and the horde that dominated the horizon. The onrushing vehicles were little more than specks, but the plume of dust they generated seemed more an act of nature than of man. It seemed like she was charging straight into a sandstorm of deific proportions.
She drove for a while, checking the fuel gauge from time to time. She hadn't dropped with a lot of fuel, and they'd used most of it gathering this ragtag band together. She had enough for a few more hours of driving, but nothing after that. If this went south - she wouldn't be escaping. Neither would Jorg. But he hadn't said a word in protest.
Kranti looked up at him, seeing the dour soldier scanning the horizon through the scope of his longlas. They could have mounted one of the heavier weapons there, from a heavy stubber to a repeating lascannon. But that would have slowed the gremlin down. And all they needed for this was Jorg and his longlas. And a couple dozen charge packs that sat in racks near his knees.
"Is this going to work, Jorg?" She had to speak loudly so her voice would be audible over the sound of the gremlin bouncing across the wasteland.
The older man didn't respond immediately, but his shoulders jerked up in something that could have been a snort or a shrug. Then he lowered his weapon and looked down at her, a sly smile on his usually expressionless face through the clear facemask. "Hells if I know ma'am. But you've already done a damn-sight better than anybody else I've ever served under. Win or lose, those bastards will know they've been kissed."
She nodded back at him, the grin returning. "That they will. Tell me when we're close enough."
"Aye. About another half-hour Ma'am."
Kranti kept driving, starting to watch warily as their enemies' vehicles came into view. It looked something like a naval formation, with giant trucks and land-barges in the center flanked by trucks carrying heavier weapons on the sides. The front and outskirts were swarming with buggies and technicals not unlike her own, though they all looked like they'd fallen from orbit
without a drop pod.
"Here's good." Jorg spoke, and Kranti nodded and swallowed. She turned the gremlin around, facing the armored rear towards the dust-raising army. As she turned she saw the scouts gesturing at her and one even tried to line up a shot, but they were still too distant for anybody to hit anything.
Anybody but Jorg, that is. He lined up his longlas, breathed out steadily and sent out a shot.
In the distance a fireball bloomed, one of the trucks going up in a sudden plume of flame.
"Warp-addled idiots put fuel tanks on the
front." His voice was annoyed, as if Jorg was professionally insulated that his enemies were so incompetent. He followed it up with a series of other shots, a couple more resulting in bursts of fire and smoke. Then he banged on the frame near her head. "Go."
Kranti floored the accelerator, following her own tracks back towards the trio of hills. Behind her engines roared as every single vehicle in the pursuing army accelerated, aiming to chase them down. She watched in the mirrors as the enemy buggies chased her with single-minded determination, stringing out in a long line as the fastest ones overtook the slower ones.
Jorg kept snapping off shots, timing them to the bouncing of the gremlin over the uneven terrain. The fastest buggies faltered, las bolts through their engines or drivers. He dropped the first charge-pack, slotting another one into place a second later and resumed firing. Bullets pinged off of the back of the gremlin with the occasional crack of another las weapon. A few heavier weapons fired as well, but none of the vehicles carrying them could keep pace with the speed of the chase.
Kranti focused on driving. Hitting a gully here would be a death sentence, and so would being overtaken by the pursuing horde. She only kept a peripheral view on the mirror - until a passing bullet shattered it. A piece of glass sliced through her mask and across her cheek, and she felt blood well in the cut and trickle down to her chin. The air hissing through the hole in the mask burned against her skin, but her augmented lungs kicked in to filter out the worst of the toxins.
She kept both hands on the wheel, eyes forward and foot flat on the floor to keep them moving as fast as possible. Speed was life. She aimed for the trio of hills on the horizon. Speed was victory - or at least the chance of it.
A few moments later Jorg kicked the frame near her head again. "Slow down. We're losing them."
She glanced back, seeing that their path was traced with wrecks, some smoking, some flipped and some just stalled. More vehicles chased, but they were getting farther and father behind. That wouldn't do at all, so Kranti slowed down a bit to let them catch up while one-handedly sealing her mask with a bit of duct tape. Above her Jorg popped a smoke grenade, letting the grey smoke trail behind them to explain the slowdown to their pursuers.
She kept driving, shooting glances behind them and occasionally varying the speed in order to keep the distance open. Jorg kept firing, varying his targets between the enemies near and far to keep them all focused. In the near distance the rest of the convoy thundered forward, the heaviest vehicles in a jagged spearhead with a halo of trucks around them.
Finally,
finally she thundered between the two hills, holding her breath as she passed over the disturbed dirt where the hivers had been digging. She was depending on this working, and that was the first failure point. Well, the first failure point had been if the six-armed Chieftain and his men had caught her when she'd been baiting them, or refused to take the bait.
Nothing happened as she zipped through the passage, and she sighed in relief. Then she drove straight for the third hill, heading straight for the largest gap between the giant rocks jumbled up its slopes. As soon as she got out of sight cover she parked the vehicle sideways, blocking the narrow alley and patting it fondly. The vehicle had performed admirably, but it wasn't likely to survive this.
"Praise to the Star-Child!" Kranti called out and Jorg slipped through the tight turns of the rocks, meeting the eyes of the hivers hiding out in the twists and turns of the twisted stone. They nodded their readiness, a fire visible in their eyes through the goggles. She smiled back, mouthing prayers as gunfire started from up above. It took her a few minutes to reach the top of the hill and clamber up one of the rocks to join the new converts who were camped out across the tops of the rocks.
She slapped the leader on the shoulder, the woman's robe marked with the symbols of the five-fold faith, and looked out over the chaos below. It looked like they'd followed orders and held fire until the frontrunners had pulled all the way into the flat area between the three hills. Then as soon as the people manning those smaller vehicles had started to disembark the new converts had opened fire, shooting from the top of the hills down into the killing zone. Men and woman fell, corrupted and uncorrupted alike, as they tried to return fire at the people camped out in prepared firing positions with only their weapons and faces exposed.
More vehicles streamed into the space to reinforce their kin, presaging the heavier vehicles behind. The heavy stubber opened up from a nearby rock, stitching rounds through the oncoming vehicles and causing some to flip and crash as they sped forwards. The dismounted gangers of the six-armed Chieftan ran forward to take cover amongst the rocks, just to turn corners and find themselves face-to-face with hivers used to brutal fights in dark alleys.
Kranti tore herself away from the spectacle, looking around for the leader of the hiver gang. He wasn't present, he was supposed to be here. Where was he? The priestess caught her frantic glance and passed over a detonator, mouthing words and pointing downwards towards the places where the hivers expertly ambushed the onrushing wastelanders in tight quarters.
With a deep breath and a thundering heart, Kranti looked towards the gap between the hills. The places where the explosives had been dug under the ground weren't visible anymore, covered by hundred of tiretracks as the first of the larger trucks thundered into the confined space, heavy weapons raking the rocks around her and sending chips of stone flying.
It's like a puzzle. How do you use a bunch of demolition charges in the middle of a desert? There's nothing to blow up out here. I'm just glad that the hivers had a few people who knew explosives.
She waited. The heavier weapons on the bigger trucks started to tell, blasting their way through the stone firing positions that protected the converts atop the rocks. A few groups of hivers in the maze of rocks were overwhelmed by hordes of wastelanders. But there were more corners, more gangs waiting to ambush and backstab the invaders. Her people held, for now.
Patience. We need to break their back. Wait for it.
The first of the land-barges rumbled into the open area, puling forward before a ramp slammed open to disgorge scores of mutated raiders, heavily armored in slabs of blackened metal adorned with foul sigils. The las repeater opened up, sighted in directly down the length of the ramp. Mutated bodies fell, slumping and clogging the opening before the greater horrors within could emerge.
Then the main body of the attacking force was within the gap between the two hills, with the grandest land-barge of them all in the very center. It was decorated with a huge six-armed effigy of twisted metal, with fire burning in each of the palms of the giant statue.
Kranti pushed the detonator, and the bomb blew. Nearly a third of her drop pod had been filled with explosives, enough to fight a small gang war. Now almost all of those explosives were buried in the space between the two hills. Their detonation sent a shockwave out in all directions. The sandstorm that had been trailing behind the horde arrived in an instant, toxic scouring grit carried by the wave of pressure as an invisible fist almost knocked Kranti off her rock.
The towering effigy atop the central barge had been tossed into the air, coming down in pieces that crushed several of the trucks. The battlefield lay silent for a moment as every living person looked backward at the noise. Then the firing started again with a roar as Kranti's troops laughed and screamed defiance at their attackers.
The forces of the six-armed Chieftain continued pushing forward, but their momentum was broken. They weren't a screaming mass of fanatics anymore, but a bunch of disparate bands of fighters very aware that the force unifying them had just been blown to smithereens. They started to take cover, to pause their headlong charge into Kranti's guns.
Minutes passed, and the fortified position stood strong. The converts continued to take losses, but at an incredibly favorable exchange rate against the demoralized troops below. The hivers secured their territory, ambushing the lost bands of fighters who still wandered the maze of stone. A few brave converts used slings to hurl the remaining explosives towards the heavier trucks, crude fuses making them into impromptu anti-vehicle charges.
Kranti's attention was elsewhere, watching the space beyond the raging fires and smoke. Fully a third of the enemy still lay outside of the three hills, beyond the raging fire and strewn wreckage of the blast. They were unbloodied, and if they rallied and coordinated they could still crush her forces.
A wind picked up, clearing some of the smoke and dust, and Kranti's fist clenched, a grin blooming across her face at what she saw. The enemies outside
had rallied, disembarking from their vehicles to form up and push through the wreckage to continue the assault. And then her last contingent, the bribed wastelander tribes, had emerged from the dust trailed by the horde, smashing into their rear unexpected. They'd raked through the disembarked troops, cutting them down brutally in the kind of surprise attack that was every driver's dream. They'd likely had the surprise for a few valuable minutes, the noise of the ongoing attack covering their own weapons.
The remaining disembarked troops were trying to reorganize despite the vehicles harrying them. But the cleared view let those attacking the hill look back and see their reinforcements being ravaged by vehicular raiders, and their resolve broke. The rout was contagious, and first one group turned and fled to their vehicles, then another did the same. Kranti wanted to pass the order to target the vehicles, but she didn't have to. Her troops started shooting out vehicles on the edges of the parking lot below, prompting fights between different crews as they tried to commandeer the funtioning machines that had clear escape routes.
Those troops beyond the explosions also routed, some fleeing on foot while others had the presence of mind to pile back into their land-barges. A few more detonation charges disabled several of those, as Kranti's tribesmen exacted a brutal toll on everyone who ran, finally achieving their revenge.
Kranti breathed out slowly as she watched the carnage unfold.
Hah. Take that, bad grades. I've got what it takes. If only the revolutionary instructors could see me now.
Her attention was drawn to the side, where the hiver leader was climbing up the rocks before giving his best imitation of a military salute. "Victory, Warlady."
Kranti blinked at the address, and was about to ask before the priestess of the new converts saluted her as well. "Warlady."
Jorg met her eyes from the next rock over and gave her a shit-eating grin and a textbook-perfect salute.
Well, shit.
Where Our Homes Used To Be - Life upon Where Iron Screams, Where Gods Die, and Where Dreams Bloom is not easy. The deserts claim more and more with every year, and soon, nothing will be left of their people. Bees are already extinct, and candles slowly vanish. Faith will quickly follow. Yet, the roads are still free, their vehicles still run, and the portals that connect their planets are still open. Time to make themselves a new home.
(Focus: A clan upon one of the three planets mentioned above establishes a new home for themselves amidst dying worlds.)
Are these worshipers of the Star Child? The reference to candles makes me think maybe?
Horrors In The Depths - There are many among the Mashan who remember through the scrolls and the wisdom of their elders the days when the galaxy was a far more peaceful place, when Humanity stood atop the mountains as sovereign and wise rulers of the materium that reached with open hands to all who grasped them. They also remember those who Humanity did not give an open hand but a closed fist, peoples and beings of such revulsion and horror that even they, those who tried to deal fairly with the Eldar Empire, took no chances upon and gave no mercy. The Mashan did not aid one of those fists in their memories. They now wish they had, if only to remember the lessons learned in blood by Humanity again and again.
(Focus: The war against the Cleansing Rain continues, and the death of a people who only know savagery approaches.)
Who/what are the Cleansing Rain? I'm curious about this one.