Welcome to Hell - Siege of Vraks RP [Warhammer 40k]

[Estro]

"Yes, yes, lets bloody charge into the battlefield that we have no idea about, no way that could be dangerous, none at all."
Esta groused as she directed the servitor by her side to load the cannon with its first shell. Flicking through the various sights available to her on her vis-plate, she started surveying the battlefield for anything, particularly looking out for any tank hunters. It's unlikely they could mission kill the baneblade, but Esta hadn't survived for two and a half decades by betting on unlikely.

As she did so, she muttered, a short prayer coming to her lips.
"Him above, bloody well protect me."

 

[Kensai]

"Incoming transmission from HQ, sir," said Seven-Nine, now in her element. "We are attached to 30th Line Korps. Updating tactical display." Her fingers danced over ancient keys of Valhallan Traki ivory, transferring data to the Commissar's readouts.

A vox operator was much more than a mere receptionist; she handled all the data streams of the great war machine, collating information and handing it off to the crew members who needed it while making sure they didn't get overwhelmed with unnecessary data. It required fine judgement and the ability to hold multiple strands of thought in her head at once - more like playing several parts on a pipe organ simultaneously. Depending on conditions, it also meant functioning as an ersatz intelligence analyst.

"Sir, it appears we are meant to spearhead the central thrust of a concentric multi-axis attack."

 

[whydoyoubother]

"Cool!" The driver cant help comment at the last words as he adjusts course.

 

[Estro]

"Sir, it appears we are meant to spearhead the central thrust of a concentric multi-axis attack."

Click to shrink...

"Whoop-dee fucking doo. Lets be the giant fucking fire drawing front of the bloody attack. No, no, that's fine. Wankers in high command."
Esta muttered the vitriol under her breath, the motors of the turret completely drowning out any chance of the commissar hearing her. Gesturing at the empty air in front of her, Esta wondered what bloody point her prayers had.

 

[Guilliman]

"Very well, Seven-Nine, vox the rest of the platoon, we will take point 8-2 and 8-3 will take up escorting positions. Driver ! advance at three quarters to maximum speed. Crew be wary of traps and ambushes. In the name of the Emperor, Advance !!!" shouted the commissar from his command throne.

 

[Estro]

Esta winces.
"We're not gakking deaf, commissar."

 

[Kensai]

Esta winces.
"We're not gakking deaf, commissar."

Click to shrink...

Despite the noise of the tank, and the vox helmet she wore, Seven-Nine picked up Esta's jibe. She had to suppress a gasp - did the senior NCO just swear at their commanding officer?

She must have gawped a little too long, because the grizzled sergeant-major turned a baleful eye on her. What remained of her composure evaporated like an ice cube under the muzzle of a meltagun, and she ducked her head back towards her displays. There was plenty of work for her to do....

But, but how?

 

[Guilliman]

Esta winces.
"We're not gakking deaf, commissar."

Click to shrink...

The Commissar simply rests back on his command throne, and cites a section of the Book of Punishment of the Adeptus Astra Militarum " Section 2 subclause 14 states that all counts of insubordination against members of the Commissariat is punishable by death. Shall i go and apply the punishment then Sergeant- Major ? I am a member of the Commissariat,do remember that ! now do your duty !!! Do, Not, Push, Me. "

 

[MaHaL]

As the miles slowly rolled along under the treads the clouds overhead gathered and a sudden crash heralded the beginning of one of Vraks common lightning storms. As the sky overhead flashed you keep rolling, the camp you'll be staying at until the infantry find a point for you to exploit appears on the horizon, still close to an hour away.

When you finally pull to a stop the Enginseer on sight for this camp directs you to the vehicle pool closest to the CO's quarters and as you settle the tank in position the CO himself walks out to greet you. Upon seeing the Commissariat uniform of the commander he comes to attention with a salute.
"Colonel 149IR. Good, Baneblades good. Assure, pleasure mine. Now artillery sighting in, infantry digging, grenadiers rehearsing, much work. Please question if necessary now, have much work."

 

[Estro]

Esta flicked a few switches, and watched the turret settle down as the electronic hydraulics returned it to its resting state. The servitor looked at her as she returned her gasmask to her face.
"The ga-" the mask hissed as it adjusted to the contours of her face, "-k you looking at, meat puppet? Gonna unload the cannon?"
The servitor kept looking at her blankly.
"Gak you then."
Her vibroknife vanished into her jacket as she popped the turret hatch and saluted the Colonel.
"Sir! Location of the mess hall and barracks required by the members of this unit."
Inside her mask, Esta frowned at having to act like a random Korps member, but it honestly wasn't worth the hassle if we were only here for a few days. Especially since that Colonel looked as devoted as the Drill Sergeants back on Krieg.

 

[whydoyoubother]

Private Lonard would step out, following the others and merely standing around. It would be nice to say that he is standing on attention, but it would be more true to say that he is attentive instead. His dufflebag with gear is in his hand and he stretches, then waits for orders with the patience only a masked face can have.

 

[Kensai]

Seven-Nine went through the resting rituals for the vox terminal punctiliously, just the way she'd been taught. Now that they were in a warzone, the vox would not be turned off except for critical maintenance or repairs; the great tank's machine spirit would log all transmissions.

Even so, she wondered whether she should mount comms watch. Or would the Sergeant-Major roster the crew? A meal, shower and sleep would be welcome, but staying alert was crucial.

She hesitated as the screen dimmed, indicating that the terminal had successfully gone to sleep. Should she move her gear out of the Baneblade and into accommodations? But what if they had to go into action on short notice? Perhaps it would be better to just leave everything she didn't immediately need in the tank.

...well, there was one way of resolving these queries.

@Estro

Seven-Nine popped her head out of a hatch and piped up. "Sergeant-Major, have you any orders for the crew?"

 

[Estro]

Seven-Nine popped her head out of a hatch and piped up. "Sergeant-Major, have you any orders for the crew?"

Click to shrink...

Being deployed with the Calatchans had been so much more fun. Esta sighed, the sound being distorted by the gasmask into a long rattle. Thinking for awhile, she spoke, " Take one change of uniform and your personal affects with you into the accommodations here. We shall have a meal, shower, prepare ourselves, sleep, have another meal in the morning, and then assemble here for further instructions at 1000 hours tomorrow. Commissar willing."

 

[Guilliman]

As the miles slowly rolled along under the treads the clouds overhead gathered and a sudden crash heralded the beginning of one of Vraks common lightning storms. As the sky overhead flashed you keep rolling, the camp you'll be staying at until the infantry find a point for you to exploit appears on the horizon, still close to an hour away.

When you finally pull to a stop the Enginseer on sight for this camp directs you to the vehicle pool closest to the CO's quarters and as you settle the tank in position the CO himself walks out to greet you. Upon seeing the Commissariat uniform of the commander he comes to attention with a salute.
"Colonel 149IR. Good, Baneblades good. Assure, pleasure mine. Now artillery sighting in, infantry digging, grenadiers rehearsing, much work. Please question if necessary now, have much work."

Click to shrink...

Colonel, what force is arrayed against us, what support can we expect, and at what point shall we attack ?

 

[MaHaL]

"Sir! Location of the mess hall and barracks required by the members of this unit."

Click to shrink...

"Yes, yes. Important, 42 sketch." At the word 42 a low ranking member seemingly materialized from nowhere and handed a small sketch of the camp to Krenning.
"If needed escort." With that 42 nodded and made a gesture towards the left.

Colonel, what force is arrayed against us, what support can we expect, and at what point shall we attack?"

Click to shrink...

"Also good. Enemy standard is Guard standard. Good defences, deep trenches, bunkers, wire." Pausing for a moment to reach into one of the pockets of his coat the Colonel pulled out a dataslate and regarded it for a moment.
"You attack 4 days. Today finish set up, tomorrow artillery, day after infantry find spots. Next day attack, rest of platoon assigned elsewhere, lead infantry at identified weak point." Finishing with another salute he turned and walked through the door back into his quarters, faint muttering about requesting the regimental Commissar to execute someone in logistics for incompetence managed to work its way into your ears.

 

[Guilliman]

I decided to head to the mess hall and find some food, Terra please let it be fresh food.

 

[Estro]

"Yes, yes. Important, 42 sketch." At the word 42 a low ranking member seemingly materialized from nowhere and handed a small sketch of the camp to Krenning.
"If needed escort." With that 42 nodded and made a gesture towards the left.

Click to shrink...

Krenning jumped off the Baneblades turret, landed on its main body and then dropped to land next to Fourty Two. Taking that sketch, she examined it and her surroundings for a second, before delivering orders.
"Seventy Nine, you're with me. All others, follow 42 to Barracks 32-A. We are assigned meals at Mess hall 7. You have the choice between option one, two and seven. "
Grabbing a proffered data slate from 42, Esta quickly scanned it.
"Duty officer for tonight is Lieutenant One-oh-three. No firing ranges have been assigned to our use. You are permitted a half ration of amasec tonight, and for no other nights. The Commissar may find his accommodation is Room seven at the officers barracks. All withdrawals from stores must be permitted by any two of the Duty officer, myself or the commissar prior to any withdrawal. The Enginseer may find the local Mechanicus in Barracks 56, and is exempt from the restriction upon stores. Camp rules are posted by the door of each Barracks, and cerfew is 2145 hours."
Esta's voice pitched upwards, a and for a second the squad can see why she was once offered the position of drill Sergeant. Her legs snapped together and her hands were motionless at her sides.
"SQUAD! SQUAAD, DISMISSED!"
And with that, Esta turned on her heel and smartly marched three paces. Before falling out, hanging the slate back to 42, and walking to the Baneblade's main entrance to wait for 79.

 

[Blackout]

Yay, we now get to be fed piece-meal into the enemy's heavy defenses by an infantry commander who's probably never seen a tank.

However, the promise of a bit of waiting time before the fighting really kicked off had Vizun slumping against her console in a light doze the moment the brass cleared the vicinity. If there's one skill all soldiers pick up eventually, it's the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, while being able to jump into action in the blink of an eye; and Tech-Priests were no exception. Indeed, their mechanical nature made it easier to conceal napping.

 

[Kensai]

@Estro

At the Sergeant-Major's first command - "Seventy Nine, you're with me," - Seven-Nine immediately clambered out of her seat and wriggled out of the hatch. She was tiny by Guard standards, barely clearing the minimum height requirement and likely underweight. It meant she'd needed to cut down her uniform so that it would fit without bagging, and she sometimes needed help getting things off high shelves, but it also made it easier to fit inside the confines of an armoured vehicle. The Baneblade was massive, but even so space was at a premium, and being so small helped with getting around in it.

She might have been diminutive but it didn't mean she was weak. Sure, she might have difficulties with heavy loads just because she massed less than an infantryman's bergen, but she had the wiry strength of a gymnast. She could barely poke her head out of the hatch standing on the jump seat, but it was trivial for her to haul herself out without using her legs, even with the weight of her equipment.

By the time the Sergeant-Major dismissed the crew, she had worked her way down the ladder welded to the side of the superheavy. It took a moment to catch up. She straightened out her tunic and snapped to attention in front of Krenning.

"Private Seven-Nine, ready for duty, Sergeant-Major," she called out.

 

[Estro]

@Estro

At the Sergeant-Major's first command - "Seventy Nine, you're with me," - Seven-Nine immediately clambered out of her seat and wriggled out of the hatch. She was tiny by Guard standards, barely clearing the minimum height requirement and likely underweight. It meant she'd needed to cut down her uniform so that it would fit without bagging, and she sometimes needed help getting things off high shelves, but it also made it easier to fit inside the confines of an armoured vehicle. The Baneblade was massive, but even so space was at a premium, and being so small helped with getting around in it.

She might have been diminutive but it didn't mean she was weak. Sure, she might have difficulties with heavy loads just because she massed less than an infantryman's bergen, but she had the wiry strength of a gymnast. She could barely poke her head out of the hatch standing on the jump seat, but it was trivial for her to haul herself out without using her legs, even with the weight of her equipment.

By the time the Sergeant-Major dismissed the crew, she had worked her way down the ladder welded to the side of the superheavy. It took a moment to catch up. She straightened out her tunic and snapped to attention in front of Krenning.

"Private Seven-Nine, ready for duty, Sergeant-Major," she called out.

Click to shrink...

"We're just walking to our barracks, not preparing for the parade ground."
Esta took off, clipping her pace so the shorter girl could keep up.
"What made you volunteer for the Korps, then? Honour? Glory? Shame? Honestly, it's probably best luck you've been assigned to old Jericho. I've gunned her for the past four years, and well, I'm still alive."

 

[whydoyoubother]

Lonard wanders off to get a hot meal and not smell the other tank-operators for a bit, eventually getting around to getting himself a bunk somewhere

 

[Kensai]

"We're just walking to our barracks, not preparing for the parade ground."
Esta took off, clipping her pace so the shorter girl could keep up.
"What made you volunteer for the Korps, then? Honour? Glory? Shame? Honestly, it's probably best luck you've been assigned to old Jericho. I've gunned her for the past four years, and well, I'm still alive."

Click to shrink...

"I, um... I'm natural-born, Sergeant-Major. Not Vitae Womb. My folk were behind on their tithes, it was a hard year and they couldn't make their quotas. So the recruiters took me. Not worth much, but my brothers could move more ore so I got sent to the Korps. I wanted to go to the Death Riders but I'm too short, so they sent me to armour school and vox specialisation instead. Turns out I have a gift for it, says the Progenium instructors."

 

[Estro]

"I, um... I'm natural-born, Sergeant-Major. Not Vitae Womb. My folk were behind on their tithes, it was a hard year and they couldn't make their quotas. So the recruiters took me. Not worth much, but my brothers could move more ore so I got sent to the Korps. I wanted to go to the Death Riders but I'm too short, so they sent me to armour school and vox specialisation instead. Turns out I have a gift for it, says the Progenium instructors."

Click to shrink...

"Girl, I've seen 16 yol hive dwellers that look older than you. No way you 18 yol, and the recruiters would be on Qat before they broke their oh so special regulations. Oh, miss 245-453-4, you can't do that. Oh, miss, you have you boots on the wrong way. Oh, miss, you can't do this. Gak heads. Still, what I'd have given for the life you had, even if you did get taken young."

 

[Kensai]

"Girl, I've seen 16 yol hive dwellers that look older than you. No way you 18 yol, and the recruiters would be on Qat before they broke their oh so special regulations. Oh, miss 245-453-4, you can't do that. Oh, miss, you have you boots on the wrong way. Oh, miss, you can't do this. Gak heads. Still, what I'd have given for the life you had, even if you did get taken young."

Click to shrink...

"The good thing about being natural-born is that there's no real way to tell when you were born, my folk said I was stunted from bad food. We're all small anyway, miners tend to be short. My father made his mark and swore I was of age and that was good enough for everyone."

"...what kind of life did you have then, Sergeant-Major?"

 

[Estro]

"The good thing about being natural-born is that there's no real way to tell when you were born, my folk said I was stunted from bad food. We're all small anyway, miners tend to be short. My father made his mark and swore I was of age and that was good enough for everyone."

"...what kind of life did you have then, Sergeant-Major?"

Click to shrink...

Her vibroknife flickers to her fingers, before vanishing again, like a magicians wand.
"A violent one. Orphans in the underhive seldom do well."