Cheri stretched and rubbed the dirt out of her eyes, taking a tip from her canteen to clear up her throat as she glanced at the others. She turned on the vox, so that Jaradesh could hear too "Once I call in for support, we will start the assault. As much as I would love smoke shells, were danger close even for that sort of artillery, and there's no promise of it being accurate enough to hit, we don't have a designator apart from our eyes" She grimaces and taps her chin "However, there ought to be a Sniper team nearby overwatching, I'm gonna try to get them to take out those gunners, then we can assault and blow up the wall with our satchel" She smiles a bit "Even with that, stick to cover, keep your head down, stay safe. If you get in close enough, throw some frags in, the standard penal kit is two each, in a closed room even once we blow the wall open, those things are gonna make them minced meat"
She lays back against the car and steels her nerves, taking another swig from her water canteen to steady herself and make her voice sound nice and pretty. She grabbed the handset of the Vox-caster and punched in one of the nets she had been given, closing her eyes for focus as she starts to speak into it, trying to make herself as charming as she could muster. "Hello, this is Seargent Sheri of Squad 123-B, we are currently at the gates, so to speak of Gun Emplacement 5. The enemy has more Infantry fighting power than was advertised, and we are requesting support from Overwatch-3, please grant the emperors judgement to these heretics, so that we can disable the gun and press the advance. Over" She opened her eyes and got up, holding her breath as she awaits a reply.
She turned back to her squad, changing the net back to their local "Smoke is our best second bet, but guns can still fire through smoke and make our lives hell, even if they don't know where we're coming from. Our best bet is to have them killed and sticking to cover while Celine and our Zothene will get to cutting and clearing. If you can find a scrap of cloth or the like, use that instead to just walk over the wire." knowing a thing or two from reenactments she was a part of.
(Requesting Long-Las and inspiring at the start of the assault, as necessary as well as Requesting artillery smoke if the Long-Las don't work.)
"Stupid," Filly comments. Jeradresh going back means one less body. "They'll kill him." She spits out a lump of nastiness. "Desertion." With her two cents in, the enforcer hunkers down behind the car. She waits for the response from Overwatch-3–either a loud bombardment or a louder silence.
The Commissar stares at you for a second that feels like a full hour. His hand is on his pistol, finger on the outside of the trigger guard, barrel pointed slightly down and to the side.
Like a House Daemon, primed by blood sacrifice, and ready to spring into killing life before you could blink.
"I see." The Commissar says.
Another long moment. The prisoners seem as statues, frozen in terrified silence.
He gestures towards one of the Enforcers, who raises his shotgun and points it at the prisoners, then gestures at them as if to follow.
"Do not let me detain you Corporal, from your Heretic Killing duty." Shrake says. He gestures back towards the Gun Bunker, and lowers the Bolt Pistol further, then holsters it.
You try not to let the relief show on your face as you nod, and turn around head back towards the battlefield in a matter that hopefully appears eager, yet not hasty.
(OOC: You'll show back up at the fight next update.)
OOC: Content warning for a graphic description of a fatal gunshot injury.
"Hear you loud and clear. We'll deal with that Heretic Stubber for you, Sergeant. Overwatch-3 out."
Cheri nods, even though the Sniper could probably not see her, then hunkered down deeper within cover behind the truck.
A moment passes, then two.
Then, the high crack of a lasbolt splitting the air. A moment of daring hope.
"Fuck!" Overwatch-3 says, the word unfamiliar to Cheri but surely a curse of some sort. "Sure I had him! Relocating!"
Well, that's very unfortunate.
Without prompting, Sylvia lays her lasrifle out across the hood of the truck the squad shelters behind, sights up the stubber, and intakes a breath. A shot through a vision slit, to the thin silhouette of the gunner's helmeted head? It would require a lot of luck, and a lot of skill.
Sylvia perhaps, has that skill.
But the Gunner, alerted by Overwatch-3's botched shot, ducks down just before the lasbeam dynamically intercepts his face. Then, almost blind, the gunner jerks the heavy stubber around towards where the second shot had come from, simultaneously pulling back the butterfly triggers of his heavy weapon.
One second the squad medic is firing, the next the overlapping thunder of the stubber drowns out all sound.
Before Celine can shout a warning, before Cheri could ask the sniper to get back, before even Sylvia can drop prone or throw herself away, a single high caliber slug fires across no man's land, lances through the cab of the truck, and strikes Sylvia directly between the eyes below where her helmet can defend her.
The result is almost instant death, as the bullet penetrates through the front of her skull, tumbles through the Occipital and Temporal lobes destroying all in it's path, before severing the brain stem and impacting the rear of her helmet. The remaining kinetic energy tears it away from the remains of her head, and sprays what remains of her grey matter and a great degree of blood out from the back of her sundered skull.
All that the squad sees is Sylvia fall backwards, her helmet flying off and the back half of her skull opened like a discarded meal tin, the contents splattering across the ground and the soldiers behind her like a shotgun blast.
Filly stumbles back, the bulk of the dead woman falling across her and spattering her uniform with gore. Even one so detached can still be stunned by the horror of what she just witnessed.
Smoop, less a warrior and lost in the strange readings her auspex is giving her, nearly drops the sacred technology and screams in horror as remains of the slain legionnaire slashes across it's screens and controls.
Celine, also in a position to be killed would she have looked out from cover, recoils, equal parts shaken by the sudden death, and pressed back as another hail of stubber rounds blast past into the gap between the truck and the fueling station, keeping the area thoroughly locked down by fire.
Cheri, Zothene, and Kathial, far back enough to avoid the worst of the sight and the gore, manage to keep ahold of themselves, though there's little they can do with the clarity, with their way forward lit up by a heavy weapon.
Fighting to keep her nerves, Cheri quickly pulls up her Vox handset and sends another call, this time to their artillery support.
"-Loud and Clear! Smoke on the way!" A voice sounds on the other side, the other details lost in the gunfire and panic and terror.
Moments pass as Legionaries hunker down in cover and hope to the God Emperor the Heavy Stubber that had killed Sylvia didn't get any more clever ideas than spray down the obvious way forward, that they didn't have any more surprises waiting, that the shells would fall with accuracy.
Nyla wipes the blood from the display of the Auspex, and winces. As if the heavy stubber wasn't bad enough, the path directly ahead was reading some kind of emplaced explosive. There would be no pushing forward that way. They'd have to go around.
(OOC: Marginal success on Auspex sweep with Awareness there. Watch out for mines)
The first shell screams down from the sky, falling in a terrible arc that terminates just on the other side of the truck. Even lacking an HE filler, the sound is nearly ear-breaking as the shell impacts and the small bursting charge activates, and the truck rumbles with the noise and concussion.
But still, even with the poor placement, blessed, sight obscuring smoke begins to expand to fill the battlefield, slowly filling the gap between the truck and the fueling station even as stubber bullets still leave trails as they punch through, and also obscuring half the battlefield on the opposite side of the abandoned vehicle.
With one last look at the fallen Sylvia, Cheri raises her free hand, and urges her squad around the truck and into the smoke cloud. If luck held they could get to the garden plots at least, and from there to better cover, leapfrogging closer and closer to the bunker.
Running and keeping low the best they can, Cheri, Filly, and Nyla rush through the smoke. They don't even get halfway before the small flares of muzzle flashes are visible in the haze ahead, bullets and lasbeams probing at the smoke and leaving burning trails where they slash past the advancing legionaries. It'd almost be beautiful, the way the las beams leave glowing trails in the wispy smoke, if not for the fact that someone was trying to kill them.
Fortunately, none manage to strike the Legionaries before they can duck into cover behind the garden plots, crouching to let the rockcrete planters protect their bodies and heads.
That was the hard part. Just another short hop and they'd be in the rubble and craters, able to move better without exposing themselves.
Back at the fueling station, Celine, Zothene, and Kathial gauge their chances. Would it be better to push directly ahead past the truck, and risk the the Heavy Stubber and the mine Smoop had seen, or to duck between the gap and follow the same path the Sergeant had taken?
Or perhaps, with the heavy stubber's attention distracted and others firing on the Sarge and her group, loop around and go around the other way, smoke be damned?
They'd need to decide quick, and pray to the God Emperor for success. They'd seen what would happen if luck or provenance were not with them.
(OOC: Real unfortunate about Sylvia, but that's War. That said, the offer to Martyrdom for her is still open until next update. I'll edit the update depending on the results.
You can see the relative positions of everyone in Roll20. You also have another Smoke shell coming in two turns, but like you saw here, there's no guarantee it will hit accurately where you want it to go.
-Jerad: 13/15 wounds, 3/7 Fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Sylvia: KIA. Body and equipment retrievable
-Zothene: 12/13 Wounds, 3/6 Fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Nyla: 2/13 wounds, 3/6 Fatigue (Penalties canceled by Stimm), Stimmed (6 turns left)
-Celene: 11/13 Wounds, 1/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Filly: 8/13 Wounds, 5/7 fatigue (Penalties canceled by Stimm), Stimmed (7 turns left)
-Kathiel: 13/14 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Cheri: 9/13 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests)
Cheri gagged a bit as Sylvia went down, but that didn't stop her from diving into cover, careful not to damage her Vox-Caster, gritting her teeth a bit as she took a deep breath into steady herself, re-dialling the vox codes for artillery, taking a deep breath before opening the channel "Good effect on that smoke, were being suppressed and pinned down so the next shell should be about 6 meters westwards, and about 20 meters northwards from the previous plotted position." She put the handset down and slapped her own cheeks, using the pain to focus herself as she thought for a moment, catching her breath for a second with her comrades, cowering behind the planter. She opened the squad local net, grimacing as she picks up rocks and stones from her immediate area that are able to be held in her hand "Alright, that went sideways, they're still suppressing the area in which Sylvia went down, and we have a bunch of guns trained on us through the other side of the smoke. I provided adjustment for the artillery so this next shot should completely cover their bunker if it lands right. I wouldn't suggest pushing through the suppressing fire, but we can always use more help on our next push up into the safer blasted-out area."
She grimaces as she held the rocks in her hand, having accrued a small pile of stones and rubble next to her. Knowing that her enemies are untrained, and probably looking for any sort of movement at the edge of the smoke, she gathered up her courage and started throwing, hoping to make them waste shots better spent on them using the makeshift chaff. "Alright, push when ready" She makes the call, still throwing her stones to confuse the enemies.
(Adjust for artillery, then use Deception to try and waste overwatch shots as we push up to the next safe area, not pushing if my squad doesn't ofc.)
The Commissar stares at you for a second that feels like a full hour. His hand is on his pistol, finger on the outside of the trigger guard, barrel pointed slightly down and to the side.
Like a House Daemon, primed by blood sacrifice, and ready to spring into killing life before you could blink.
"I see." The Commissar says.
Another long moment. The prisoners seem as statues, frozen in terrified silence.
He gestures towards one of the Enforcers, who raises his shotgun and points it at the prisoners, then gestures at them as if to follow.
"Do not let me detain you Corporal, from your Heretic Killing duty." Shrake says. He gestures back towards the Gun Bunker, and lowers the Bolt Pistol further, then holsters it.
You try not to let the relief show on your face as you nod, and turn around head back towards the battlefield in a matter that hopefully appears eager, yet not hasty.
(OOC: You'll show back up at the fight next update.)
Yet again, it was evident the Emperor smiled upon Jeradresh. Surely, for he could swear he had felt the bloody axe of death at his throat from the Commissar's gaze.
"You have my thanks, Commissar! In His name!" Jeradresh cheered, turning about and quickly making off back toward the enemy bunker, prayerfully before the Commissar could change his mind. Not too quickly though. He didn't want to twist his ankles in front of the Commissar. He might as well beg for the bolt round to put him out of his embarrassment then. Also, he didn't want to look too eager to get away from one of the Imperial Guard enforcers. That could just mean a bolt round to the back.
He whistled under his breath as he pushed back through the rubble. Hopefully he wouldn't miss the fight. Either losing it or winning it. He had heretics to kill, and it would be very embarrassing to show up after all the killing had ended. Fatally so, if the ones killed had been his squad. Emperor willing, he could get there, wet his blade, and end up with nothing worse than some scratches for Sylvia to handle once she was done with the demolitions.
A medicae and a demo-expert in his squad. Sometimes he wondered if the Emperor would ever cease smiling upon him.
In tandem with a shuddering breath exhaled through a mouth drawn to a grimace, Celine wipes at the blood across the Seal of St. Marin with the outside of her uniform's sleeve. Nothing short of a proper scrubbing with deterging oils (or, she wistfully muses, pure water) will truly rid her of... Sylvia's vitae spattered over her, but it feels blasphemous not to at least try to preserve and keep pristine the glorious murals upon her painted hide. Even in this wretched place and time.
The bullets from the heavy stubber continue to roar forth, the smoke curling around in elaborate swirls as they pass through. They all seem to be aimed at around chest-height for a standing man. Celine peers into the smoke, searching for the hazy outline of the former squad medic. There, sprawled by the truck's metal carcass. A low whine crawls its way out of her vocal cords, hopefully drowned out by the gunfire, as Celine contemplates this newest madness forced on her.
From her crouch, she goes to a crawl, almost slither-like in her mad scurry out across the open air where bullets are let fly. At the least, the medical kit has to be saved from the chance of a stray shot. And it would feel wrong, to not get her out of the line of fire and in proper repose. God-Emperor guard her soul, and me, the fool keeper of rites in this hell.
Celine, praying for success with her foolish endeavor, drops prone and crawls across no man's land.
Above her head, bullets punch through the smoke and leave small curls of wispy grey from the sonic crack of their passing. One meter, then two, then three-Crack, a near miss slashes across Celine's vision. She recoils in terror, but then steels herself and pushes forward. Four, five, and she's across, sheltering behind the truck.
There is no time to rest, as another round deflects off the rim of the cab, barely a millimeter from her face. She tries to ignore it as her hands make contact with the metallic soil on spots where Sylvia's blood and brains have leaked out. Past the corpse, and too far behind the truck for errant rounds, she can finally lay back against the truck for a long moment, breathing in.
She glances over at Sylvia, still laying against the ground, undignified. Celine climbs to her feet, then reaches a hand out to grab the fallen woman, then prop her body up against the truck. At least she'd be out of the muck. With the duty done, Celine closes the dead medic's one remaining eye, retrieves her Cognomen tags, and says whatever words she can muster for the fallen.
Then, conscious of disturbing whatever facsimile of rest the deceased has, Celine slowly removes the woman's pack and slides it on her own back. The dead take only their deeds and their sins with them to give account before the Golden Throne, but the living would need medical supplies and the demolition charge.
Forward, Cheri is doing her best to adjust for artillery fire. "Coordinates received! Firing!" The artillery man on the other end. Cheri ducks down just ahead of a sheet of fire, one round finding occasion to strike her across an arm plate flat on. That'd leave a nasty bruise. At the least, the called for smoke shell comes screaming down.
Just not in the right place.
The smoke shell lands somewhere behind the bunker, then explodes to life. At least it covers the western facing of the bunker is sheets of grey darkness, which will probably make it harder to shoot from for a few of the enemies, but the very large gun that killed Sylvia is still unmasked, and moving to track over to her position.
What was it the Colonel character she'd played all those years back in The Dread Devourer had said? Ah, yes. 'Artillery is an imprecise art, second cousin to Sorcery.'
Fortunately, the Sergeant is too distracted to think much of the fact her character had died at the end of that film, as a hail of Heavy stubber rounds slashes across the stone planters she shelters behind. Fortunately, the Stubber is no more precise than an Earthshaker, and she escapes with only a rattling in her ears and a hail of stone chips cascading about her position.
A moment passes in terror and stillness as the stubber traverses back and forth across her, Filly, and Nyla's position, leaving all three pinned down. Of them only Nyla is able to achieve anything productive, pinging her Auspex once more. More explosives, placed atop the mounds of rubble that served as bridges over the first line of wire. She would have to tell the Sergeant, just as soon as any of the three could hear anything.
Then, the hail stops. Cheri risks a glance to notice Kathial and Zothene advancing from cover to cover, moving towards the first line of wire and looking to cross. For a moment it seems that they will attempt the easiest, nearest crossing, but Kathial points to something atop the mound of rubble.
Another mine.
Any relief that could possibly be felt suddenly falls away into terror as the Heavy stubber slowly grinds towards the two, and then fires on their position. The two go down in a tumble, seemingly unhit, diving behind what tenuous cover the piles of rubble masking the first wire line can offer.
As much as it might seem tempting to help the two, Cheri hurled one rock, then two, then three. Fire reached out from the bunkers to meet them, slashing across the planters and rubble. Then, a fourth rock, and only a single lasgun to meet it. The enemy had wasted their ammunition.
Nyla, Cheri, and Filly waste no time, pushing forward for the mound of rubble that covers part of the first line of wire. Nyla shouts out the mine, and the three manage to half climb, half sprint over the pile while avoiding the mine.
Then, it was among the tank traps, and the enemy had reloaded. Bullets and lasbeams strafe along the traps, reflecting off the steel and occasionally finding purchase in flak armor that, thank the Emperor, holds against the storm. Still, the soldiers find themselves forced to huddle behind the steel tank traps, not finding much opportunity to shoot back.
To the east, Kathial and Zothene advance, staying low as they half crawl, half climb over the top of the mound of rubble and then try to roll down it's opposite sides in a position to land behind one of the heavy, black steel tank traps.
Kathial makes it, but a raking burst of heavy stubber fire cuts through the topmost portions of the rubble as Zothene is crawling forward. The high velocity, armor piercing rounds slash right through the rubble. The first and second deflect off the Technomat's helmet and pauldron, but the third and fourth, only having to travel through a bit of plasteel debris, strikes across xeir breastplate with terrible force, leaving the Technomat gasping for breath and stunned by the terrible force. Kathial grabs the insensate legionnaire and drags xem behind a tank trap.
Then, as if trying to balance fighting two forces at once, the Heavy Stubber slowly turns toward the position of the rest of the squad, and lights them up. Thank the God Emperor, none of the rounds manage to find the few huddling imperials in their scant cover, nor do the militia firing from the gunslits in the bunker manage to strike a telling blow through the smoke shrouding their firing lanes.
Celine, having secured Sylvia's gear and given her what respect she can, sprints forward, and prays to the God Emperor the enemy was too focused on the others. Fortunately for her, they are, and she manages to reach the first line of wire before anyone turns to rake her position with fire, and by then she's already ducked prone behind some rubble and began to climb over it the best she can.
The battle turns to a crawl from there, as the Imperial legionnaires, under many guns slowly crawl forward towards the second wire line, moving from one tank trap to another, from one bit of rubble to one small depression where the metallic soil might offer some meager protection against the storm that assails them. Return fire is meager, only Filly firing off a long burst of lasfire at the Heavy Stubber, making no impression on the gun position before she is forced to duck back into cover.
To their enemy's detriment, or perhaps even to the Penal's skill, none of them are struck down during the slow advance, the enemy weapons too inaccurate, and their bearers to poorly trained to concentrate their fire until one knot after another of legionnaires are dead.
Above all of them, the heavy artillery piece at the top of the bunker fires, the sound temporarily drowning the hammering storm of fire. The shell arcs high into the sky, destined for the next wave of transports moving over the lake. One can only hope the panic of an oncoming assault makes the shot inaccurate. Everyone had seen what happens when they aren't.
This agonizingly slow advance continues until, gritting xeir teeth against the bone-chilling terror of a line of stubber fire stitching past xem for the third time, Zothene crawls into position next to the second line of wire. A hand searches for the Wirecutters among xeir loadbearing gear.
Blessedly, the fire of the Stubber stops momentarily, even as more gunfire and lasbeams rakes past anything and anyone that moves. Reloading, presumably, but even with a half trained crew that could only take a few seconds at most. There's be no avoiding it.
Zothene finds the wirecutters, and tries xeir best to get to work. The Heavy Stubber slowly turns towards the Technomat, all but xeir legs exposed to the gun by the necessity of the work. Time seems to slow down, links rattling as the gun team frantically reloads, tracers and lasbeams from lesser armaments slashing past the technomat as if heralding oncoming doom.
Then, a high crack, the sound of a high power lasweapon barely audible over the tumult of battle.
The gun barrel of the heavy stubber drops, pink vapor exiting in a stream from the gunport.
"Got him! Stubber kill confirmed!" A voice comes over Squad-Vox. "Relocating, Overwatch-3 out!"
A half dozen breaths release. Now they just had to get through the damn wire before the loader could take over that gun.
@Shephard@Teyao
If Jerad had been blessed before to have a squad with a Medic, then he had been doubly blessed on the return trip. Among the rubble had been half a squad of Penals, their sergeant and corporal both killed by enemy fire, and bereft of an objective. Jerad hadn't even had to use the nearby Commissar to push them forward, they knew well what would happen if they were found displaying cowardice in the face of the enemy, and a Corporal shouting about reinforcing his squad seemed like a decent bet.
Vulture off someone else's assault, and look like heroes assisting them. Perhaps a fool's hope, but it was better than squatting in rubble, waiting for the Hangman to come for them.
And so, Jerad Sophon, a Penal Legionaire named Mikael, and three of Mikael's erstwhile Squadmates in Squad 123-A find themselves advancing onto the edge of Delta-5's defensive perimeter, their advance unchecked for the defender's zeal against Squad 123-B's main body.
They even have the good fortune of reaching cover behind a broken statue and some inexplicable stone planters before the enemy notices, and sends a few bullets their way.
Squad 123-B are easily visible, a half dozen figures crouched in the soil around a quartet of heavy steel tank traps, doing their level best to imitate some form of digging mammal, even as the Technomat, Zothene is beginning to work at the wire. All well and good, to the survivors of 123-A and Corporal Jerad, though something troubles the former Pagan.
Why only six? And why was Celine carrying Sylvia's medicae pack?
(OOC: You've made it to the second line of wire without anyone else dying, and Jerad's brought some friends with him. Teyao, here's where you're introduced.
As usual, the relative positions of everyone are in the Roll20.
As a note, getting through the wire will take a +10 Tech-Use (Agility) test. This can be assisted, up to twice, by anyone with the Tech-Use skill, and DoS matters (it reduces the time it takes by one half action per 2 DoS). If you wish to risk yourself crawling over to assist Zothene, that's up to you.
-Jerad: 13/15 wounds, 3/7 Fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Mikael: 16/16 wounds
-Zothene: 4/13 Wounds, 5/6 Fatigue (-15 to all tests): Pinned 2, (Highly recommended you get a Stimm)
-Nyla: 2/13 wounds, 3/6 Fatigue (Penalties canceled by Stimm), Stimmed (2 turns left)
-Celene: 11/13 Wounds, 1/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Filly: 6/13 Wounds, 5/7 fatigue (Penalties canceled by Stimm), Stimmed (3 turns left)
-Kathiel: 13/14 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests), Pinned 2, acting as NPC character until he dies or we reach the end of the part
-Cheri: 9/13 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests), Pinned 1
Pinned X:
When a character is pinned, they halve their Movement Speed and take a -20 to ranged attacks. Each turn, a pinned character makes a Resolve (Wp) test, and on success reduce their Pinned Level by 1+DoS. You may also spend a half action to 'Psyche Up', gaining a +20 to this Resolve test.
Once Pinned hits 0, then the character no longer suffers the Penalties. Frenzying also automatically nullifies all levels of Pinning (As Frenzied characters are immune to Fear)
Cheri breathes heavily as her hands shake, laying flat on her stomach as she coughs up some dust and rockcrete particulate, wiping her eyes the best she can to survey their situation. She had been hit, but her armour had fared worse than her, thankfully, a small carbonized crater in her shoulder plate and a bruise underneath all she had to show for it. Her hands continued to shake as she took deep breaths, reaching down to her Vox-handset and pulling it up with shaking hands, calling up the artillery "Miss on that one, Try more Southwest, maybe 10-15 Meters" she managed, giving the best adjustment she could despite her trembling voice, the gunfire whizzing past overhead making her stressed and shaky.
Once the artillery was called in, she turned her attention to Zothene, gritting her teeth and crawling over a little closer. "Alright, you got this, you got this" She murmured to herself, as she leans against the tank trap, glancing over at Zothene and smiling, cracking a couple of light jokes and generally trying to lighten the mood, it might not be the most conventional form of inspiration, but a snicker or two while getting pinned to hell is certainly good for morale, though she's careful not to go too far and break his focus.
(Adjusting for artillery then focusing on Inspiring and getting myself out of Pinned with Psyche Up)
If Jerad had been blessed before to have a squad with a Medic, then he had been doubly blessed on the return trip. Among the rubble had been half a squad of Penals, their sergeant and corporal both killed by enemy fire, and bereft of an objective. Jerad hadn't even had to use the nearby Commissar to push them forward, they knew well what would happen if they were found displaying cowardice in the face of the enemy, and a Corporal shouting about reinforcing his squad seemed like a decent bet.
Vulture off someone else's assault, and look like heroes assisting them. Perhaps a fool's hope, but it was better than squatting in rubble, waiting for the Hangman to come for them.
And so, Jerad Sophon, a Penal Legionaire named Mikael, and three of Mikael's erstwhile Squadmates in Squad 123-A find themselves advancing onto the edge of Delta-5's defensive perimeter, their advance unchecked for the defender's zeal against Squad 123-B's main body.
They even have the good fortune of reaching cover behind a broken statue and some inexplicable stone planters before the enemy notices, and sends a few bullets their way.
Squad 123-B are easily visible, a half dozen figures crouched in the soil around a quartet of heavy steel tank traps, doing their level best to imitate some form of digging mammal, even as the Technomat, Zothene is beginning to work at the wire. All well and good, to the survivors of 123-A and Corporal Jerad, though something troubles the former Pagan.
Why only six? And why was Celine carrying Sylvia's medicae pack?
Yet again, the God-Emperor of Mankind showed His benevolence upon Jeradresh. He could only grin savagely as he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted ahead at the rest of the squad.
"Blues at your six! My sergeant, I am returned!" He called out cheerily. "And I have brought friends!"
He half turned, looking at the ragged half squad of Legionnaires he'd stumbled across. They were a ragged bunch, most of their squad cut down by the heretic's fury, but bodies were bodies and guns were guns. Both were the Emperor's gift unto him. "Some of you canids suppress them! The rest of you, with me, to glory and death! Death to the traitor! Death to the heretic!"
And death to a few of you, he didn't doubt, but no need to share that just yet. "The Emperor is with us, and through Him we are invincible!"
Well, not really. Maybe he was, Jeradresh thought. But whatever got the rest of these baseborn rabble to soak up bullets, no? Speaking of bullets and a likely lack of invincibility, where in the Throne's name was Sylvia hiding? Perhaps the sergeant had been wise and told their precious medicae to hang back where it was safe. Not exactly courageous, but it made sense given she was the most important person in the squad besides himself and perhaps Cheri. But with that Commissar hanging around, perhaps risky. He'd need to ask the sergeant once he caught up with her. Particularly since Celine was carrying her medical kit. How odd.
In the meantime, however, there was red work to get done. With a hungry grin, Jeradresh affixed his gleaming bayonet. He didn't know many of the verses out of his threadbare copy of the Uplifting Primer, but he did know a few that had swiftly gained his appreciation. One in particular he had to compliment both its simplicity and the utter clarity of action it compelled.
"Smite the foe! Smash the enemy! For the Emperor we bring death!" And boy, was it fun as all the hells to shout.
OOC: Order some of the reinforcement legionnaires to lay down suppressive fire. Move up aggressively to join the rest of the squad. Be ready to storm the building.
That was all Antonius can think and do as he lay behind the statue, his hand still holding the lascarbine tight, his ears constantly ringing from the noise of battle happening in front of the statue that he hide from. His head aches in pain as he tries to recall the past hours to see how it has gone so wrong, yet before he can get his bearing, the strange man shouts out an order to suppress the enemy and charge out toward the wire seemingly to join the rest of the people in the battle.
Snaping out of disbelief, Antonius immediately moves to the side of the statue and brings his lascarbine in position to shoot at the bunker. his arm holding the gun and do the ritual necessary to bring the machine spirit to be ready then aim,
Breathe in
breathe out
Antonius just his breathe and his gun to get the iron sight on the vague outline of the enemy, for a few moments this was all there is until he get it right and his finger squeeze the trigger
OOC: lay down some suppressing fire on the enemy as order
You are Mikael son of johna and you are going to die.
One would think you would be afraid, scared or angry about the fact but the most you can feel is acceptance and grim satisfaction, after all, there is no one left on this universes whom you truly care for other than the Emperor and you are sure he would welcome you after you have died in His name and done His deeds
When the officials showed up saying that your father had died before completing the family sentence you felt like the world gave up beneath your feet, but the empire waits for no man and you were quickly shoved in the penal legions 123-A squad for a chance at redeeming your family in His eyes.
You are going to die and you are prepared for it -welcoming it even- but first you must follow the orders of the corporal who took control of the remnants of your squad, your previous squad you remind yourself.
Holding your shotgun you make your way in front of him and the rest, if someone is going to take a shot it will be you.
OOC: Move to join the rest of the squad, try to go in front of the others so you take the shots rather than them.
Celine looks over to her left, and sees Zothene, laying on the ground before the razorwire, readying the wire-cutters in hands that shake from exhaustion and pain alike, and then down at the medical kit in her arms. At last this time, so close to her squad, the whine that emerges from her throat sounds more like her voice cracked mid-growl. Swiftly crawling over to her squadmate, she withdraws a Stimm from the kit and hastily applies it, making ready to assist with clearing the last obstacle between them and that wretched bunker.
(OOC: Putting a Stimm on Zothene to remove the debuffs to rolls, and then giving an assist to that roll.)
Smoop could almost feel her pupils dilating as she moved amongst the mine and wire, the Stimm dose still burning through her veins. She was at the jittery phase now, the feed from the Auspex melding with her other senses so that she couldn't tell what she was seeing with her own eyes and what was coming through its screen.
"High. As. Feth," she breathed. You had to hand it to the big bosses. Even Legionnaires got better drugs than regular civilian street scum would kill for. "Keep it together, kek for brains. Zone out now and you're dead. Not that you won't be anyway."
She scrambled over to the remains of the squad and tried to work out a path to assault the bunker. And monitor what the feth was going on with that heavy Stubber.
Zothene chuckles with the Sargent's humor as xeir way to honor Sylvia's memory, to keep wits about and recognize the sense of sadness for later. Under the grueling fire, xey do say to Cheri, "commander, I appreciate the cheer at the brink, I studied a bit of that kind of thing growing up, you have some wisdom about you. For a moment of seriousness- I will say that once I set off the satchel, if you want a battle frenzy- I can give it, as our foot in the door." Xey let their fury seep a little closer, wrath in xeir mind hopefully matching that of the will of xeir las-pistol to be used if need be should blows by blade prove to be tactically a bad idea.
The battle pulses onward as Imperial Reinforcements stream onto the scene.
Shouting for his new (and likely temporary) friends to suppress the enemy positions, Jerad storms forward, keeping his head down best he can through the tumult. Quite unfortunately for him it's not quite good enough, from the shrouded portion of the bunker, a lasbeam sweeps out and catches him across the side of his flak vest's frontal plates. Jerad barely even notices it in the moment, so consumed with running for the (dubious) safety of the tank obstacles much of the squad covers behind. He reaches his destination, sliding into cover just ahead of a swarm of autogun bullets. Only then does he feel the sting as the scored flakplates bleed heat into his chest.
Just ahead of him, another of the newly arrived Penals slams into cover, grunting in pain from a lasgun burn of his own, this one along the flexible flakcloth of the lower torso. Mikael grits his teeth against the pain, then raises his shotgun roughly over one of the 'Limbs' of the tank trap to fire a symbolic burst of buckshot at one of the firing ports. Then he racks the pump against the side of the metal limb, chambering a new round and ejecting the spent shell.
Back at the statue, Antonius simply point his carbine at the spot where it looked like the most fire was coming from, then held down the trigger. A flurry of ruby beams slashes out from his weapon, and he concentrates it near the firing ports. It was hard to tell if it was having much effect, but at least it seemed like the enemy fire was slowing down somewhat. He stays that way for some time, contributing his best without unduly risking himself, before he notices the charge rune on the Lascarbine was blinking red. Nearly empty.
He glances out over the battlefield. There was flashes of fire from the smoke cloud, but they were scattered and infrequent. Perhaps the enemy was reloading? Fumbling with the the pouches at his hip, Antonius retrieves a spare power cell, then, whispering the proper prayers, slots it into his carbine. Next time perhaps, better ammo conservation.
Down at the front, Cheri is directing artillery.
"Coordinates Received! Firing!" The Artillery commander shouts. Then, after a long moment. "Breaking off engagement, 123-B! Shells needed elsewhere!"
Before Cheri can get a word in, to perhaps beg just one more shell, or to curse the man out for his atrocious shooting, the line cuts. The best she can hope for is that this last shell is more accurate than the last two. Then, pain flashes across her body, a lasbeam striking across her shoulder as she'd glanced out to correct for the artillery fire. That shell better be more accurate.
Slightly to the east, Smoop pings her auger once more, and tries search through the tumult and chaos for details on the enemy. The Auspex was giving one less heat signature within the bunker, where the Gunner had been. Maybe that sniper had killed them after all. She was also getting some details on the density of the building, which suggested there was an entrance some where to the east, not visible from their current position.
Then, bereft of any other excuses to not fight, she sticks her laspistol out from behind the tank trap she is crouched behind, and fires a pair of shots. There, that'll show them. Her arm droops, unexpectedly tired and sluggish, even with the complete lack of recoil on the Laspistol. Pain flares back up from her back, though it's not crippling, just dully painful. Oh joy, the Stimm must've ran out.
A few tank-traps to west of her, Filly sights down the gun position. It seems likely that if the Gunner was dead as reported by Overwatch-3, then the loader would be taking over. She focused the best she could, and indeed, she could spot the outline of a helmet through the slit. Rolling over in a way that only wasn't excruciating for the stimm pulsing through her veins, the former Enforcer lines up sights of the lascarbine, then squeezes the trigger. A long line of fire slashes out and catches the gunner across the mottled plastek of his gasmask, and the man recoils out of the narrow view of the firing slit, no doubt clutching at the serious burn along the side of his head. Not a kill shot, but it was better than nothing.
With a few more seconds without stubber fire bought, Celene ducks across the small gap between her position and Zothene's. Pain shoots up her back as a trio of rounds stitch across her flak vest's backplate, but she grits her teeth and accepts it. Deflections, not a real injury, even if it felt like it. Dropping down next to the Technomat, Celene half unslings the medical kit, pulls a stimm out, and then jabs Zothene in the neck, as close to a vein as she can approximate.
Feeling xeir pain and aches fade away, Zothene sets to work on the wirecutters. Snip, snip, and a collection of strands are removed, which Celene and Kathial carefully pull aside to give the technomat more space to work. With the help of the others doing so, and also slicing at particularly stubborn strands with their combat knives, the Technomat is able to make quick work of the first layer of wire, and onto the second.
Unfortunately, the enemy is not quite stupid nor blind, and weapons that were indiscriminately firing at anything that moved or the last known position of a Legionary quickly turn to spray down Zothene's exposed position. It's a testament to how poorly trained most of the enemies are, or at least how heavy the fire the other Legionaries are laying down that most of the distraction comes as rounds plink into the metallic soil and send flakes of metal and bursts of sand up into the air around xem, or else reverb off the metal limbs of the tank trap. But not all the enemies are so inaccurate, and a lasbeam slashes across the distance and cuts into the back of Zothene's flak plates, leaving a long burning trench that would be quite painful to endure in most circumstances. But Zothene is so focused on xeir task, and and the stimm is doing good work, so the technomat doesn't even notice the superficial burns across xeir upper back.
Then, the second layer of wire is cut through, the last strands being pulled apart by Kathial and Celine. Zothene can only take a second to admire xeir work, a path through the wire large enough for two legionaries to push through. Then, another hail of bullets slashes by, and xey quickly pull themself back behind the limbs of the tank trap.
Then, as if timed dramatically, the last shell of Cheri's salvo slams to earth....well behind the squad and Cheri's intended target.
Fortunately a prevailing wind blows much of the smoke over the front of the enemy bunker and many of the Legionaries. Close enough, one supposes. Few of the Legionaries can see the next Legionary in line, much less the bunker. But it also certainly meant the enemy could not see them, and thus it was time to press forward, either by explosive breach or by finding the Bunker's proper entrance.
(OOC: Next update Monday night, same time.
As a note, planting the explosive charge requires a +30 Demolitions (Ag) or +20 Agility test. DoF beyond 0 has consequences, though not necessarily instantly fatal ones so long as the DoF is low.
You can also try to find the bunker's proper entrance, which doesn't require using one of your charges. Nyla Smoop has pointed the way towards it but you still can't see it from your current positions (especially with the smoke shell).
-Jerad: 10/15 wounds, 3/7 Fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Mikael: 11/16 wounds, 7/8 Shotgun Rounds
-Antonius: 13/13 wounds, one spent charge pack stowed
-Zothene: 1/13 Wounds, 5/6 Fatigue (Penalties Canceled by Stimm): Stimmed (17 turns left)
-Nyla: 2/13 wounds, 3/6 Fatigue (-5 to all tests, -25 to Strength and Agility tests due to Stimm Wearing off), 28/30 Laspistol Charge
-Celene: 6/13 Wounds, 1/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Filly: 6/13 Wounds, 5/7 fatigue (Penalties canceled by Stimm), Stimmed (1 turn left), 7/40 Lascarbine Charge
-Kathiel: 13/14 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests), acting as NPC character until he dies or we reach the end of the part
-Cheri: 4/13 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests)
Kneeling in the shadow of a tank trap barrier, Jeradresh glanced about, brow furrowed. Where the Schrait was their medicae? Had they gotten lost somewhere?
He shook his head. It didn't matter. What did matter was that the barbed wire was cut, and between the suppressive fire and the smoke, they had the cover they needed, particularly with the heavy stubber still down. As far as moments to prove his courage and honour came, few would be so ideal. There was risk, yes, but it manageable. And, after all, the Emperor protected, no?
"Come on, let us go get the bastards!" Jeradresh cheered, smiling wickedly. Death for the Emperor!
OOC: Run up with the squad, get in cover at the bunker edge, and breach it with them. If possible without undue risk, try to get in close to the heavy stubber and shoot, stab, or grenade the loader and the lasgunner with him.
Smoop slumped at her position, desperately trying to keep her eyes open. With the Stimm wearing off, she felt exhausted, and only the flaring of the pain across her back kept her from simply nodding off right where she sat, despite the roar of battle all around her.
She gritted her teeth and hauled herself along the ground, crawling towards her nearest squadmates. Who happened to be the ones cutting the wire and coming under fire.
"Bunker's entrance is that way!" she yelled, slapping one of them across the ankles. She pointed the way. "I'm done, go get them!"
It wasn't quite a lie, depending on how you interpreted the word done. But maybe it would inspire the others to sort things out while she found somewhere a little safer to take a well deserved break....
The Stimm keeps Filly in the game. Whatever unholy coattail of chemicals they'd put in, it was working its way through her veins, suppressing exhaustion, conquering pain. She's a robot; her actions are automatic, prim and precise in execution.
The thunder from her gun catches a goon lacking, and the unlucky little shit goes reeling back into cover. Not dead, but horribly disfigured.
A distortion of happiness wells up her. Being the walking advertisement of "you talkin' to me?", Filly delights in giving out hits like that. And she wasn't covered in blood this time. New blood, at least. Now that was a turn for the better!
She eyes the unfolding situation… which the drifting smoke obscures almost totally. The uneven fume chokes the environment, leaving everyone half-blind. She'd been in places like that before. Just the smoke was black, brown, or sulfuric yellow once. Whatever its hue, the stuff would kill you without a mask or mutation.
But half-blind or not, there's a place she needs to be. The bunker's entrance—wherever in the Emperor's earth that was. As Filly sets off for it, her lungs rattle off uneasily.
Celine heard the order called out by the returned corporal, and made to rise up. The lances of pain that sparked with motion across her back made the motion halting, resuming with starts and stutters, but she crept toward the entrance to this infernal bunker. She had the grenades. She had a demolition charge. Her absence would b conspicuous, and thus there was no time to recover.
Mikael listened to the orders of the corporal and proceeded tobflllow them, after all, he wasn't good enough at aiming shots to actually hit anyone from this distance.
That and well, maybe what little he knew of explosives may result usefull if they had demolition charges to open the walls
Cheri breathed out and cleared her throat, glancing at her squadmates "Alright, anyone who knows anything about explosives should grab the satchel charge and head on up" She rolled her shoulder uncomfortably, knowing this push wasn't going to be a pretty one as she gathered up her strength "The rest of us should try our best to suppress the murder holes as they go up. There's a clear space to the left of the big gun, you will have to cross a murder hole, but it's the least exposed position to plant the charge at." She grimaces, unable to see much, but hoping she was still close enough to her squadmates to be heard. "If possible, once the hole is blown, we want to lead with some of our frags, standard penal kit has two, clearing out that room and rendering the combatants within it dead is our top priority" She gave a brave smile, though she doubted any of her fellows could see it, coming up with the rest, and getting ready to suppress the gunners and then join in with the charge "For the Emperor! May he have mercy on all our imperfect souls" with her orders done, she pulled out her bayonet, keeping it in her offhand, a knife was still better than no melee weapon, should she need it inside the bunker, steeling herself for what was to come.
The Penal Legion presses forward to take advantage.
Jerad is first through the tangle of snipped wire and metallic ground, even as lasbeams slash through the smoke all around and turn parts of the smoke cloud into choking, hot ash. Navigating half by touch, half by intuition, he finds his way towards where the heavy barrel of the Stubber sticks out from the bunker, still yet to open fire. The rattle of links inside is once more audible. Jerad hurries for one of the grenades attached to his webbing.
Just behind the former heathen, Celine and Mikael storm towards the bunker where their sergeant has ordered. Mikael nearly trips, the choking ash like substance left over as dozen of lasbeams sweep through a combined space already choked with smoke is even harder to breathe, and though none strike him, the sonic crack of autorifle rounds slashing past is almost overwhelming. Still, the two make it to the wall of the Bunker, where Celine hurriedly unpacks the Demolition charge and begins to place it on the wall of the bunker.
Back a ways, Antonius lays down what cover fire he can on the hazy, half shrouded walls of the bunker, a hail of lasbeams spraying against the firing slits. The other two Penals from his squad are doing the same, laying down cover best they can through the carpet of dark smoke. Even still, fire spills out from the firing slits, slashing away at the breach in the wire. As much a war of will if anything, where the enemy has the advantage of heavy fortifications, and if nothing was done, a Heavy stubber.
Jerad, conscious of that danger, pulls the pin from his grenade, and shoves it through the firing slot just as he hears the Gunner pulling back the charging handle on the Heavy Stubber. The man doesn't get a chance to fire before someone inside is swearing "Empty Throne! Get down!"
Then, the explosion. Jerad can only hope and pray it was effective.
Back at the planned breach, Celine places the charge down and holds it steady, while Mikael bends over to insert the detonator and dial in a 10 second delay on it's runepad. More than enough time for both of them to get clear. Two presses for the '1' and '0' runes, a third to hit the 'Execute' rune. That's perhaps how it would've gone under controlled circumstances.
Unfortunately, one of the militia, perhaps braver than most, opens fire through a firing slit even as lasfire slashes away at his position. Mikael takes the pair of shots on his pauldron, and though largely unhurt, his fingers twitch from the sudden impact, hitting the 'Execute' rune, with only the '1' rune entered for the Machine Spirit to interpret.
Mikael's eyes widen in confusion and the sudden terror of a man standing on top of an active bomb. Celine doesn't hesitate, practically throwing herself around the corner of the bunker next to Jerad's position, Mikael only a split second behind as his demolitions training kicks in.
Then, with both clear with less than half a second to spare, the Demolition charge detonates.
(OOC: Demolitions failed with 0 DoF. Charge goes off at a random time next turn rather than at the end. Fortunately, both Mikael and Celine outrolled it for init and got clear. It would've had a larger init modifier with more DoF, or would've exploded immediately with 4+ DoF)
It's hard to see the effects of the charge, the smoke still hanging in the air between most of the penals and the bunker wall. But even though the smoke, one can see the bunker wall is no longer there along a large section, replaced with rubble and open space, smoke curling and flowing into the now open space.
Immediately, Cheri springs up, Kathial and Antonius following to push forward through the hole in the wire towards the newly opened breach. Zothene gathers xeir courage even as a hail of bullets stitches by, and springs up to join them. Filly does the same, rushing forward towards the breach...and feeling surprisingly sluggish. Exhausted, all the aches and pains from prior injuries returning. A searing pain along the forehead, the muscles of her arms burning from the desperate climb.
So terribly unreliable, those Stimms.
Cheri raises her pistol, pointing it vaguely at the silhouetted figure of a Militiaman in the smoke ahead, exposed by the collapse of part of the bunker wall. She pulls the trigger....and the weapon whines, power rune flashing an angry crimson. Had she inserted the power pack incorrectly? What could she have possibly done to anger the weapon so?
Kathial and Jerad don't give the enemy the chance to gun down their sergeant before she reaches cover. A grenade clatters through a half intact firing slit, another thrown around the bend of the breach. Twin detonations rock the ground, sending deadly shrapnel slicing through the smoke. Bodies clatter to the ground in the haze ahead, throwing themselves prone against the fury of the explosives.
Return fire slashes out from the bunker, leaving trails in the smoke and sparking off the rockcrete of the bunker wall where Cheri takes cover. A grenade is pushed out of nearby firing slit, but it is poorly placed, and shrapnel merely rebounds off of Filly and Cheri's flakplates. More lasfire from the supporting legionaries slashes at the port, hopefully giving any further attempts second thoughts.
As if to emphasize the lesson, Jerad sticks the muzzle of his lasgun into the firing port he'd just dropped a grenade though, then holds down the trigger. Someone inside curses "Gen-sin trash!", hissing in pain, so he must assume he hit something. Mikael does much the same, firing his shotgun through a port, though there is no scream in reply.
With the enemy hopefully shocked by the hail of grenades and fire, Antonius and Zothene stack up to assault through the rubble, Mikael and Celine moving up to join them. Most of the Militia seem to be hunkering down, or else dragging wounded to cover inside the bunker's interior.
One figure however, seems more confident. Instead of the light flak vests and bowl helmets of the Militia, this figure is dressed in full Flak Armor, died a dull grey-blue for urban camoflague. The rest of his uniform however, is hardly so dull. Like the Militia, he wears a gas hood, but unlike the plain, unadorned models, this one has been decorated with a pair of bone charms, one carved to resemble the Aquila, the other a downward facing sword. Around his neck he wears a curious necklace of metal shards and another at the belt, each carved into a unique shape. The strange metal shards seem at odds with the highly organized loadbearing vest the man wears, festooned with grenades and wargear.
Celine recognizes the man immediately. RMCSDF, Rorschah Mundi Confederated Self Defense Force. One of the Spire Lord's professional killers.
He wears a sword at the hip, but it is currently sheathed, one hand holding a battered laspistol, the other grabbing something from his vest. A frag grenade, it's immediately obvious.
"Frag out!"
Celine ducks behind the bunker wall. Jerad jerks his lasgun from the firing slit and throws himself prone, Cheri doing the same. Antonius, trying to sight down one of the traitors for a shot, only halfway manages to duck out of the way in time, and when the thunderous blast of the perfectly placed grenade goes off, he is sent sprawling backwards onto his hands and knees, head spinning and shrapnel slashing across his body. Fortunately, it seems the armor held.
Zothene, injured, and too close to the breach, gets the far worse of it. The grenade hammers xem back, shrapnel cutting and explosive force shattering xeir flak plates. Waves of concussive force strike at xeir internals even as xey stumble backwards, hitting the ground. Xeir helmet strikes the earth hard, and it all goes black.
All the rest see is Zothene, thrown into the darkness of the smoke, half the flak plates of xeir armor cracked, xeir limbs lifeless.
Still, the way is open. One can only have faith that the casualties don't grow worse.
(OOC:
Breach into the Bunker successful, but Zothene's down (Not KIA), and Antonius is injured.
-Jerad: 10/15 wounds, 3/7 Fatigue (-5 to all tests), Out of Grenades, 50/60 Lasgun Charge, Prone
-Mikael: 9/16 wounds, 6/8 Shotgun Rounds
-Antonius: 6/13 wounds, 1/6 Fatigue (-5 to all Tests), one spent charge pack stowed, Lascarbine Charge 11/40, Prone, Disoriented (-10 to all non Toughness tests, -3 Initiative. Goes away naturally in 2 turns, or can be expedited by first aid)
-Zothene: 0/13 Wounds, 8/6 Fatigue (-15 to all tests), Damaged Torso (Lasts until First Aid), Deafened (5 Minutes), Unconscious (Goes away naturally in 20 minutes or if Stimmed again), Armor Damage 1 (Torso)
-Nyla: 2/13 wounds, 3/6 Fatigue (-5 to all tests, -25 to Strength and Agility tests due to Stimm Wearing off), 28/30 Laspistol Charge
-Celene: 6/13 Wounds, 1/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests)
-Filly: 6/13 Wounds, 5/7 fatigue (-15 to all tests, -35 to Strentgh and Agility tests due to Stimm Wearing off), 7/40 Lascarbine Charge
-Kathiel: 13/14 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests), acting as NPC character until he dies or we reach the end of the part, 1/2 Grenades Left
-Cheri: 2/13 Wounds, 2/6 fatigue (-5 to all tests), 28/30 Laspistol Charge, Laspistol Jammed, Prone
At first, nothing seems to happen, the impact sends Antonius toward the ground, and yet just for a moment he feels nothing, only a sense of weightlessness, and then Pains racks throughout his body, it took a moment for Antonius to even move and trying to orient himself yet he has no time for another moment for he to realize that he is almost out in the open and scamble toward the cover.
fortunately, it seems like the enemy were still hunkering down in the cover and had not seen him yet, so he manages to get to the cover safely. Siding at the undamaged (relatively) part of the bunker wall, he let out a small hiss as the pain ran rampage through his body, even with the adrenaline he have from the his little time in combat barely help. Mumbling a small curse, his shaking hand starts to move toward one of the pouches on his body and pull out one of the flag grenade, hand tightening with the thumb in the ring and for a moment he takes a deep breath.
He leans his body toward the breach and throws the grenade while saying "grenade!" in a slightly loud voice in an attempt not to alert the enemy.
Ears ringing from the multitude of blasts, Jeradresh kept his face in the dirt and his hands over his ears, feeling chunks of dirt rain down across his back. By all the Gods, at this rate he was going to get out of this penal legion completely deaf.
He fumbled at his combat rig, looking for another frag grenade, but no luck. Right, he'd already used up both his frags. Schrait. This was not going quite as gloriously as he'd hoped. Well. He supposed that very little in his life had been quite as glorious as he'd hoped.
"Ungrateful swine, we are the Imperial Guard! You dare resist the Emperor's glorious liberators? Lay down your arms before the Emperor casts you out into the Outer Da-" Jeradresh began, before another explosion buffeted him. "I swear by the name of the Immortal Emperor, the Saint Sophon, and the blessed Throne World itself, I'm burying your arses, you feth-faced grox-fondlers!"
With a snarl he pushed himself to his feet and peeked over the firing slit, lasgun ready. He swore he'd seen a heretic lying against the floor, and hoped he could just get in a good burst. After that, well, sparing a glance at the downed Zothene, there seemed to be no reason to stick to the breach the heretics were all focusing on. There had to be another entrance to breach through, whilst the rest of the squad was distracting the heretics.
"Going to try flanking around, keep the canids fixed," Jeradresh hissed, wondering if he'd even be heard over the din.
It comes as a second wind of vintage twinge. Popping off as Filly's feet pummels the ground near the entrance, Filly knows she can't fight. There's a point when you can't power through your body's limits. When it tells you "enough!", you stagger, fail to recover, finding the jagged rockcrete a little too pointy, and roll instead in the approximate direction of cover and safety.
The climb, the knife fight, the overreliance on stimulants, and now the run broke her stamina. She needs rest–more than a few minutes of it to recover. Her arms twitch restlessly. She can't stand looking at a spot for even a few seconds.
"Frak," she breathes out.
Whoever made the Stimm clearly didn't care about what happened after the high. The supply given to the Penal Legion was bottom of the barrel, too. As a Hiver, even the drug pushers below Sector 4678 had better goods: they, at least, wanted their clients alive enough to pay more tomorrow. The Imperium just wanted the gun emplacements gone yesterday and, by the Emperor, it would get it today.
Filly sees Zothene fall and hears Jeradresh search for another path. She's flat on the ground, hugging any inch of debris possible between her and the heretics. I'll go later, thinks the Enforcer.
