Ponchos Servitor driver follows his order, cuts the engine and lets the Tauros softly roll out close to the living quarter wall, out of sight of the big tank. The sounds of tortured metal and bellowing exhaust can be heard as the monster slowly waltzes its way through the refinery, while some overenthusiastic gunners on it trigger some of the smaller weapons just for the fun of it. Stubber rounds smash the windows and thin sheet metal walls of the former quarters to splinters while the "WHOOSH" of flamers can also be heard. All of it is underlined by the frantic, almost hysteric shouting and belowing of multiple Orks - some of which seem to disembark while their ride goes forth.
Poncho is pretty focussed on getting as good of a grip on his target as possible, as he spots some movement in the corner of his eye. Taking a quick look in that direction he can see another Ork-boy quickly stepping behind some cover. Maybe a survivor from the failed attempt to storm the gate and definitly more cunning and sneaky then his peers. The Xenos is still maybe 25-30 yards away, but might become a problem, especially if he warns the other Xenos.


Over in the alley, multiple things happen in pretty short time. Njal turns the turret towards the two Orks storming towards the Chimera in from the northern side of the alley, while the Kraitus does his best to communicate with the machine spirit of the transport and offer it advise to better do the will of the Omnissiah. For Njal this presents itself in the servos moving the turret as well as the gun elevation suddenly becoming just a little bit smother and more precise, as the Techpriest overrides the more rustic automatic.
The Autocannons barks its "BAMBAMBAM" underlined by the only marginally quiter "FUMPFUMPFUMP" of the heavy bolter triggered by sparky. Again Njals choice to ask for the heavier armed Chimera turret pays of nicely as the large caliber rounds turn the first ork into a mangled mess of boneshards and meat, while the second is also heavily mutilated before his shape is turned assunder by the exploding mini rockets from the hull bolter. The Chimera driver celebrates that with a hearty "Yeah! Show those beast how its done!" coupled with an encouraging slap on Sparkies sholder who doesn't really react. Overall these Guardsmen seem to be pretty happy with Kraitus assistance.


Over at Teodores position, the two Brontians - not the best shots themselves and armed with laspistols with too short a range to do something - decide to assist the paramedic and improvised autocannon gunner by stabilizing the weapon to give him a better chance at making a difference. Focussing on the small stretch of alley in front of him, he waits and suddenly sees a flash of green enter from the right. He immediatly triggers his weapon and sends some bullets flying, that smash into one of the brutes carrying some kind of rocket like a backpack. The Greenskin is taken of his feet and smashed sideways, barreling into another one of the creatures that curses him in their crude tongues, before both stumble out of Teodores sight.


While Simond can guess from the sounds of it that Njal has dealed with the Orks on his side, the two storming towards him are kind of an obstacle in his endeavor to reach the wounded nob before he can find his composure. At this point a mix of luck, good planning and of course the emperors grace play right into his hands, as from somewhere on his right, another autocannon begins to bark. The bullets slam into the torso of one of the rocketboys storming towards him and while they don't seem to outright kill it, it is definitly heavily wounded. More importantly the impact slams it of its feet, throwing it against the other one and thus out of Simonds path towards the Leading Nob. Not one to let such a chance unused, Simons sets his steed into a sharp gallop and lowers his lance to finish the big monster of, before it finds back his composure. The lance tip burries itself somewhere in the nobs shoulder region as the cavalrymen triggers the explosive. The following small fireball tears away most of the upper left of the hulking body, but unfortunatly also detonates a couple of grenades it was carrying as well as its strange gun, sending a heavy shockwave including some shrapnell towards both riders.


This only leaves only two pretty wounded stormboys alive - the one Teodore shot as well as the one Tambo hit crossing the wall, both of which finally reach the Chimera and begin climbing on top in an effort to grab and wrestle with the autocannon turret. Right now Njal won't be able to target any of them.

Through the combead you can hear Tambo cursing again, together with the scream of a grot and some enthusiastic but obviously unsuccessful pistol fire. It is answered by a single "ZIPPP" from his Longlas, as the Askari is forced to fire his sniper gun from the hip. "Just die already you little bugger!" he exclaims, obviously occupied for the moment.

The lance struck home, and the beast disappeared in a ball of flame. The blast hit him like a hammer but he managed to stay in the saddle.
A strong reefing on the reins brought the bolting horse back under control, he stopped and whiled it back toward the chimeta as he reached for his chainsword.
His hand slippery with blood met the leather grip and he pulled the weapon free. He wheeled the horse to see the greenskins chambering onto the chimera.
He took a sharp breath at the pain in his left arm and leg, the hot wetness he felt there. He wasn't finished with these beasts quite yet.

He had the blade half unsheathed when he thought of a better idead and let it slide home back into it's sheath, instead he reached into the pouch at his hip and pulled free a blasting egg. He knew enough to know that the armour of the vehicle should protect it from the fragmentation bomb, he spured his horse back towards the chimera and pulled the pin free and hurled the egg towards the beasts.

Simond watched the grenade bounce off the top of the vehicle's hull, fly into, bounce again and skitter off the far side of the vehicle. A few moments the blast resounded. His hand went back to the chainsword. It would be the messy way afterall.

Inside the Chimera, Njal can hear the turret servos scream, as one of the Orks starts to wrestle with the autocannon. From the sound of it the other one seems to try and climb up on the turret to hurl the hatch open, as the St. Paulus trooper can see the lock mechanism wiggle a bit, before the brute starts pounding on the metal with something big, heavy and sharp. The metal already starts to bulge in a bit, as you can make out the "pling" of something being thrown at the Chimera hull and bouncing off of it.

Simonds grenade bounces of the Chimera plate, jumping up and over the turret, far from where he intended to aim between the Orks. The blast engulfes the one standing on top of the turret in a cloud of flames and shrappnell, tearing him into pieces. The metal shards also seem to have hit the large ammobelt across his chest, as a whole bunch of slugs and bullets start flying into all directions. Simond and Balwin manage to duck away more or less - or to be honest their steeds do so instinctively and they just cling on to them - but the remaining Greenskin is pierced multiple times, goes to his knees and starts to faint from blood loss. As he tumbles down, Erc sets the Chimera a metre back, letting him roll to the ground, just to reverse the transport and crunch him with a nasty "SQUISHHH" under the tracks.


Inside the chimera you can hear an explosion shake the hull from somewhere behind the turret, followed shortly by a series of bangs from atop the turret and the sound of two large bodies falling on the armor. Erc drives the Chimera in a short back and forth motion and comments "that should deal with that frakker!". The banging on the turret hatch has stopped, but it is deformed from the beating and the explosions and Njal realizes that it won't open any time soon. Also the Autocannon might be in need of realignment and he might have to adjust his aim a bit.


"Damit!" Tambo curses under his breath, as he misses the Grot attacking him by a hairs breath and barely manages to duck into cover on the return fire "I'm kind of pinned here!"

Through the combead, Wyona orders "Njal, Erc? Try to get the Cogboy on a position so that he can see what we are dealing with on the main alley. Maybe he can spot a weakpoint. Adamo, Malakai: Go Grot hunting. Tambo has a grenade launcher, he mustn't waste his shots on the smaller buggers and focus on the big stuff. Poncho, what's the situation over at your place?"

Towards Teodore she says "Come on, we join with the others near the Chimera" before picking up the autocannon with him. The two Brontians climb over the wall to try and hunt down the smaller Xenos and get them of your backs.

Edit: Kraitus hears the orders from the imperial soldiers NCO, tactfully ignoring the nickname the common guardsmen tend to use for the Omnissiahs most holy servants. The idea to get a look on the orkish machine-abomination seems valid on a tactical level but rather uncomfortable on a spiritual one. Looking at the battered transport he notices that the large hatches on top of the troop compartment have buckled in a bit from the grenade blast. Not enough to loose its protective function but the environmental seal is definitly compromised.

Njal pressed the comm-bead into his ear, in all the noise it was tough to make out what the Sarge was saying. He got the jist of it though.

He tapped the intercomm, "Erc, did you copy that?" Two clicks back indicated an affirmative.

Njal toggled the gun a bit and realized that it was not aligned properly anymore. That could be an issue. He turned and bent and shouted into the back of the Rig.

"Tech-priest, what can you do about this auto-cannon alignment. I feel it's spiritual sanctity has been impinged upon," Njal hoped the cog-boy was even paying attention to him.

It was a miracle of the emperor. His throw had been poor but both Orks were dead.
He could not have a prayed for a better resuly so he made the sign of the aquila and then moved himself into cover and took a few bandages and some salve from one of the horse's leather paniers.

Poncho saw the lone Ork coming his way, he swung the Lascannons towards the filthy Greenskin, but then the voice of his instructor ran in his mind, chidding him for the ammo expenditure he was about to commit. The large, heavy weapon was swung aside and he reached for his Longlas and took aim.

His target was in partial cover, with most of his right side hidden, Poncho compensated by aiming for the left lung, resting the weapon on the turret's cuppola and taking aim before firing a single bright red beam. It smacked its target with full force. Not quite enough to kill it, much to the Kriegsman's disapointment, those Xenos never went down easily, but the shot certainly had an effect, he saw the Ork stumble and stop dead in its tracks, the lung was likely a burnt out, ruined mess. The faceless man took aim for the follow up shot.

Ponchos shot gives him room to breath again and atop of that, taking the Greenskins breath away will keep him from shouting and alarming the others of Ponchos presence. As he tries to hide himself, the Krieger does not get a good view of the big tank at the moment, but from the sound of it, it seems to have just passed the wall and entered the compound. Unfortunatly the behemoth seems to be a battle taxi as much as a battle tank, as the shouting indicates a couple of warriors disembarking.

Theodore and Wyona run along the walkway and finally reach its end, suddenly facing Simond and Balwin, who are reeling their horses around. The two cavalrymen can take a glance around the corner and make out another one of the really big "Nobs" leading a couple of the "normal" sized Xenos into the alley. Behind them and still a bit in the distance they get an impression of some really big, hulking mountain of metal slowly croaching into the refinery, underlined by the sound of the usual very enthusiastic, but unaimed stubberfire of the enemy.

Erc does his best to turn the Chimera around again, so that the better armored front faces the entry of the alley, from where they have to expect the hopefully last wave of Orks. Your position is not really bad, the promethium wells to your right giving you some cover and the alley itself forcing any infantry storming in into a nice firing arch, but when the big tank manages to get line of sight with its big guns or even worse if the orks decide they don't really mind the risk of blowing up half the refinery by wildly shooting into the promethium tubes running around everywhere, things might go downhill pretty fast.
Pointed towards the autocannon, Kraitus can only agree that the weapon is misaligned. Fixing that would require him to exit the vehicle and get to the turret weapon from outsite, which seems quite risky at the moment. The alternative quick and dirty workaround would be to missalign Njals optics the same way, so that gun and gunner sight are parallel again. May the Omnissiah forgive such an act of imperfection of the machine...


Between them, Tambo, Malakai and Adamo manage to put the Grot attacking the Askari into a crossfire, bringing the little, already wounded creature down. While the Brontians immediately turn around, to try and hunt down the last of the smaller Xenos to keep your backs free, Tambo takes a look through his Longlas-sight, while M'Gele prepares the Grenade launcher again. "I can't see a lot right now. Looks like a really big heap of metal on tracks. A big turret with a gun on top, but I can't really see the hull from here."

Teodore looks out and with a nod from Wyona helps get the autocannon in position. "Ok I guess if any green thing pops its head out then let's let loose with our big cannon eh?"

[Chimera + Theodore with his Autocannon declare overwatch on the entry of the allies]

Simond could see the large machine approaching along with the new group of orks. that would soon become a maelstorm and he had no wish to be anywhere near there when his comrades opened fire. Or when that machine did.

From what he remembered of the layout of the complex, he might find a way through the cluster of storage tanks and the building where all the pipes seem to feed to (refinery).

He turned his horse south and started towards the southern perimeter of the complex.

Erc completes the turn of the Chimera, facing the more heavily armored front towards the entry of the alley and backs the transport back as much as feasible to scrap as much cover as he can out of the Promethium wells. For now that keeps you out of the line of sight of the biggest turret of the crazy ork tank, but one of the smaller ones on the front as well as a sponson get into view. The sponson houses some crude mechanism involving a thick rubber hose and a pilot flame, but the Ork manning it seems to have enough sense not to shoot for the Chimera that is so close to the combustible pipes, instead trailing the alley and waiting how the charge of the Ork-Infantry turns out.

The smaller turret is armed with two big shootas and aims for the Chimeras turret, peppering it with a hail of slugs and stubber rounds, which the reliable imperial armour resists valiantly. Should they reaim towards Teodore and Wyona, both will be in big trouble though.

The Big Nob and the three orks following him - strangely armed, more veteran looking guys holding so called Deffguns - surge forward, while some more of them seem to exit from the Superheavy vehicle to join the fray. Not wanting to appear weak or coward, the Nob urges them on to charge forward, meeting the overlapping fields of fire from Teodors and Njals Autocannons head on.

The Imperial Autocannons bark their stakkato towards the Xenos menace, assisted by the Heavy stubber manned by Kraitus Servitor, drowning the Orks in a hail of projectiles. Even the mindlessly hulking beasts duck into cover under such withering punishment, but not before the Autocannon rounds from the Chimera turret wound two of them. A single exeptionally brave or dumb looter (a metal plate covering an earlier, massive head wound implies the later) manages to duck the worst of the incoming fire, throws himself towards the southern alley wall and keeps going, trying to charge Wyona and Teodore, while firing his deffgun on the move, the shot going wildly of target as expected. He will reach them any moment though. Just the opportunity for Simond to again safe the day or in this case, his Sarge and Medic, and keep the cannon firing.



Poncho orders his Servitor to slowly pull the Tauros forward and suddenly sees an opening in between the living quarter stacks, were some bridges span from one stack to the next. It's not much, but Emperor willing he might be able to sneak a shot through this opening without exposing himself to most of the guns of the superheavy tank. Sending a prayer to the emperor he waits a brink of a second as indeed the left front tip of its massive tracks gets into view. Taking aim he prepares for one shot - maybe the shot of his lifetime - going for the front drive wheel and slowly depressing the trigger...


Up in his hideout, Tambo has meanwhile changed back to the grenade launcher, turned the rotary magazine to one of his three halucinogenic grenades frantically looking for as big as an entry point as he can find on the crazily wielded together machine-abomination as he can find. While it rolls forward he can finally see the half-ramp-half-door that the Nob and other Orks on foot use to exit the troop compartment. Kissing the talisman on the necklase around his neck he sends a prayer to his god and sends "here goes nothing..." through the comlink. With a "FUMP" the grenade is send on its way, sailing in a high ballistic arc. "Darn, missed it!" Tambo exclaims, as the small projectile hits the metall beside the door and is deflected. It does roll of right in between the second batch of Ork boys that have just jumped out and releases a fast growing purple gascloud that engulfs them. All three Orks blink in confusion as they inhale the gas, before the first one suddenly turns on his comrades in a short burst of frenzy, flailing his weapons wildly. The second one immediatly falls flat to the ground as if dead, his tongue sticking out melodramitically even though he hasn't even been really hit. The third one on the other hand turns around and sprints back towards the breach in the wall to find cover away from his so called "boys" that are surely out to get him...

The first time Poncho pushes down the trigger nothing happens, due to some short circiut. The Kriegsman calms himself though to not panic, lifts his thumbs and immediatly tries again. Maybe that first failure to response was devine intervention as the moment was not quite right yet, because the double shot that releases this instant is truly epochal. Both heavy lasbolts sneak their way right through the narrow opening between the hab stacks and slam into the sprocket wheel. While the rugged construction does not explode as Poncho might have hoped for, the lasbolts turn the sprocket into a heap of molten slack, burn through the sidearmor and vaporize the gearbox under the front armor. The intense heat of the liquified metal also cuts through some of the track links on this side, completely immobilizing the superheavy tank, which slides another two or three meters before grinding to a halt.
One of the smaller turrets housing a rokkit launcher comes into view though and might get a shot at the Tauros if it doesnt move, while on the other side the defenders of the alley will have to keep back where they are, as any step forward would bring them into the crosshairs of the big main turret on top. Regardless of that danger, Njal, Teodore and the others can see that the monster of a tank has grinded to a halt after a loud bang from its other side.

The beast is limping, but its teeth and claws are still very very sharp...

Teodore switches weapons to the autogun and starts shooting at the ork that broke through the suppressing fire and was now charging at his position. "Come on!" he shouts at the charging ork. (Thanks for the updated map, that helped a lot)

Simond sees the Ork crossing his front towards where his sergeant and the healer were.
He moved to put his spurs to the mount, but auto cannon fire started blasting from that alley once more. Instead he grabbed a blasting egg from his pouch and readied to pull the pin from it and throw it at the creature.

Theodore pulls up his autogun, switches to full auto and tries the good old "spray and pray" method. While a good chunk of his ammo clip goes wildly off, the positive part of it is that the sneaky orkboy cannot really dodge the shower of projectiles, with two hitting him in the right leg. The first one doesn't seem to do much to its sturdy physique, but as the second bullet burries itself into the his thick upper leg, it suddenly bends in a weird way as if a bone was shattered inside. While not deadly wounded, this Boy isn't going anywhere soon and also isn't aware enough to return fire on the medic in turn, instead pointlessly shooting some bolts into the surroundings.

The next moment you hear some horseshoes cantering and a krak grenade from Simond sails through the air towards the wounded greenskin. While not a perfect throw, it lands more or less where it should and bursts in a bright flash at the Xenos right arm. The concussive wave throws the already prone greenskin around and shatters something in his bulging biceps, knocking the crude weapon he just tried to use on theodore of his hands. He is still not dead but suddenly much less of a danger for the lot of you.



The couple of greenskins in the alleymouth still remain though, at least without immediate reinforcements, as those are affected by the hallucinogenic grenade Tambo just shot. Njal tries to keep them supressed, hoping for a lucky hit, Kraitus Servitor mindlessly trailing the heavy bolter completely parallel to Njals Autocannon as before. Spraying their targets with a heavy hail of Autocannon and Bolter fire, the two of you try to keep their heads down, while Erc slowly backs of another meter, to stay away from the big tanks firepower and make charging them a bit more difficult.
One of the Autocannon rounds slamms into the nobs shoulder, burrying deep into it and tearing a chunk of flesh away. The shot would have turned a mere human into nothing more than a heap of shattered bone and flesh, but the hulking beast seems to just ignore it. Be it that he really was hit less severe then expected or that he doesn't want to look weak in front of his subordinates. While the looters at his side are forced into the mud by Njals Autocannon fire, crawling for cover, their leader shakes off his fear and jumps to his feet to try and charge forward in between the salvos.

It is in that moment as one projectile from the Heavy Bolter manned by Sparky hits the left looter of the trio right through the eyesocket, exploding in his skull and turning not only its head but the whole upper torso into a spray of blood, gore and viscera, spraying all three with it. The remaining body convulses violently, while both remaining, already wounded orks - the nob and another looter - stare it the corpse in horror. You wouldn't have believed before, that the Xenos were even capable of feeling fear, but obviously they are, as the blank, primordial horror is literally written into their eyes. Shaming their proud warrior race heritage, both of them, as well as the looter wounded by Teodore and Simond, back of screaming, trying to crawl into cover and AWAY, just AWAY from the Chimera, Teodore and Simond. Which definitly gives you space to breath.


Inside the Chimera Kraitus and Njall are aware, that the turret autocannons magazine is almost depleted, with only two shots left, while the hull heavy bolter is still pretty well stacked. Seeing as he has nothing better to do, the Techpriest picks up the next clip and reaches it up towards Njal in a way that he wouldn't get in the way. "Guardsman. Ready to change the weapon clip?" he asks shortly and would complete the reloading as soon as possible, if the Saint Paulus trooper doesn't tell him otherwise


Up above, Tambo takes another shot at the door leading into the Superheavies crew compartment to spread chaos before more of them get out, as he only has two hallucinogenic grenades left. With another "FUMP" the grenade sails through the air, the Askari shooter still well hidden between the tubes of the refinery and not yet located by the orks in the tank. "Come on... come on..." the Askari exclaims followed by a hearty "YES! YEEEES!" through the combead, as the grenade bounces of the doorplate right into the half dark interrior befor releasing its toxic cloud again. From the sounds of it havoc and mischief burst out inside, and only two further orks stumble outside. While one of them seems to be more or less on his senses, the other one screams in fear, haking against his own leg with his axe screaming "DA WORMS!!! GET OFF DA FRAKKING WORMS!" with expectable results.

Njal hears the tech-priest's request and mindlessly nods in agreement. He tries to stay out of the way as best he can in the tight confines.

In that short moment, the ringing in his ears subsided for a moment. His entire body was humming with adrenaline, and sweat glistened across his exposed flesh. He took the short moment to actually breath and mop the sweat from his brow.

One big breath in, hold, let it out. Breath in, hold, let it out.

Somehow he was still alive!

"Yeah we got em on the run now. Take that you Xenos filth!"

Teodore ducks down behind cover and spends a turn reloading a fresh clip into his weapon. When he has a moment he looks around again to see if any targets of opportunity have presented themselves

Simond watched the end of the alley in case the enemy tried another attack. He'd seen more heavy gunfire streak past his position.
'Balwin, make ready another melta head for my lance!;
He ordered.

[old turn]
Poncho orders his driver to reverse before the side turret that got him in its crosshairs can fire and the servitor complies, moments before a rokkit turns part of the hab stack into rubble that falls down on their former position. "Get to its backside and then cross over to the Northeast wall!" the Kriegsman instructs, while he turns the lascannon turret to the right to shoot the tank in the back.

[new turn]
Teodore changes his magazine, as does Wyona with their Autocannon, making good use of the moment of relief in pressure, as the Greenskins that attacked the alley are still shaken from their brothers grizzly demise. As to targets of opportunity your best bet would be to take a shot at those crawling orks, even if they are kind of hard to hit, clinging to cover as good as they can. The superheavy tank seems to be toroughly immobilized, but the turrets are still online, some gouts of flame and stubber fire discouraging you from getting out of your positions towards it.

Balwin prepares a Meltatip for Simond. Up above Tambo reports "Simond, its to dangerous to charge. I have one hallucinogenic round left. I see a small hatch in between the smaller turrets. Emperor willing that will give you room to make it. But I need some time to align the shot..."


Using his Mechandrite and a bionic arm that looked slightly too long and spindly for Njal to really feel comfortable, the Techpriest Kraitus effortlessly pulls the almost depleted clip out of the autocannon and slots in the new one. The ammo indicator in Njals sight switches back to 20 rounds. Njal could take a shot at the fleeing Xenos, but they are crawling and under cover, making things a bit more difficult. So he decides to go for a single aimed shot at the big Nob, that at least has some parts out in the open, but misses.

36 I believe + 10 for short range + 10 for single shot +10 for aiming but no bonus for size as only a normal sized part of Nob can be seen. Rolled a 84 on BS, missed

That leaves Ponchos Tauros speeding up behind the hab stacks to cross the main road through the refinery between the Ork superheavy and the hole it made in the wall to minimize the time the Orks would have to retaliate. As the scout car shoots out of cover, one of its smaller back turrets turns around to aim for him. The sponson gunner on the other side that would also have had the opportunity to do so seems to be affected by Tambos grenades, as its flamer turns arround erratically, spewing small plumes of fire randomly. Seeing as the vehicle is still a gargantuan foe, the Kriegsman decided to wear it down step be step, this time going for the turret that tries to fire at him with two big shootas...

As he depresses the firing button, Ponchos expertise with lasweapons once again proves incredibly valuable, aligning both lascannons shots precisely on the small space between the turret and its ring, piercing right through it, the gunner and, most importantly some kind of autoloader or ammorack within. Whatever it was it explodes violently setting of a chain reaction in the rear part of the giant tank. With a deafening boom, the small shoota turret is ripped out of its housing, flying a dozen meters into the air to likely crash down on one of the habstack-roofs. The ammobelt that was feeding it cooks of, inciting various secondary and tertiary explosions, amongst which seem to be the fuel tanks of the heavy flamer sponson in the rear. A cloud of greenish flames and burning fumes burst out of every opening in the hind-half of the superheavy - through the roof, the hatch the Orks had spilled out and lots of smaller little holes and hatches. Ponchos driver has to adjust a bit to not get caught. Most of the Ork warriors still in the troops compartment are burned to a crisp or smashed to paste, with only 5 of them thrown out by the force of the explosion in a more or less "just alive" state.

As the Tauros speeds forward back into cover - unmolested as the rear turrets are out - you feel an impact followed by a slight bump, as the driver accidently rams and runs over one of the orks that was fleeing under the influence of the hallucinogenic cloud. You can hear a muffled scream "I KNEW IT! I KNEW THEY WERE OUT TO GET ME!".
The main turret still seems to be operational, turning slowly towards Ponchos position. The fact that it hasn't fired so far indicates that the Orks did not want to destroy the refinery, but seeing the devastation Ponchos Tauros has brought, he wouldn't count on them being so considerate any more. So even if you find some cover behind the promethium wells, it seems likely that the big kanon on top will shoot at it, with likely spectacular results.

Teodore points to the crawling orks. "Let's keep the pressure up. We got this!" He seemed almost overconfident in this moment as the ork attack seemed to have been stopped dead in its tracks.

He takes a carefully aimed shot at the crawling orks with his autogun while the Auto cannon lets loose a few shots in their direction.

"OK guys, fingers crossed!" Tambo exclaims and tries to wriggle the last hallucinogenic grenade into some hatch near the remaining secondary turrets. Another FUMP sends the small device flying in a high arc, angling downwards towards the forward hull deck. And indeed the emperor is willing and the gas filled canister slips through some tiny hole were the already poorly build construction has bent under the punishment it received so far, releasing its load into the forward crew compartment. A moment later even in cover the defenders of the alley can see the result, as the flamethrower sponson send an erratical gout of flame straight up in the air, far from doing anything relevant, while the shoota turret begins to just rotate around faster and faster as it's gunner enjoys the blurry feeling in his stomach. "Simond, Njal, now or never!" Tambo sounds the signal to charge forward.



Meanwhile Teodore aims the Autocannon again, firing at the big nob that is still crawling away. As it is partly in cover, he takes his time to aim for the head. His shot is right on target, exploding the fat ugly skull of the leader like an overripe watermelon. The looter beside him - already crazed out of his mind by the demise of its comrade seconds before, is traumatized even more as he is drenched in blood and gore again, going everywhere including his eyes.


Erc drives the Chimera forward, to shield Simond and Balwin from stray rounds, but as a lucky surprise almost nothing goes their way. The main turret is currently rotating to the back, the other turrets are destroyer, have hallucinating gunners or are on the other side of the superheavy and almost all the Orks outside are either delirious or almost dead. So just some stray rounds pepper the Chimeras side armor inconsequentually.

Simond spurred his horse forwards. The moment of glory was upon him, as his horse raised alongside the chimera.
The Ork warmachine was massive. He didn't know what his little bomb would do to it, but he figured that he'd come up with another plan should the weapon fail.

As the hulking form rushed towards him he angled his horse almost parallel to the machine's flank, he pulled himself up in the saddle so that he was squatting in it. As the horse came up parallel to the machine he leapt, he managed to get a hand hold on the some scrap metal bolted to the front of the machine, the muscles in his arm screamed in protest, his boots found purchase on the machine's track links. If it hadn't been for the breastplate he'd have been winded by slaming into the steel behemoth. Simond's blood was singing as he pulled himself to his feet readied the lance and charged across the top if the machine, his leather soled shoes slipping and skidding on the steel but he kept on, above him the main turret was a hulking form, it's guns thankfully pointed away from him for the moment.

Covering for Simond and Balwin, Njal turns the Chimeras Autocannons towards the turret with the twin big shootas on top. The flamer sponsons seem to be a less acute danger, as the cavalrymen should be able to avoid their firing arc now that their gunner seems to be delirious. The St.Paulus trooper takes careful aim and lets loose with the trusty long barreled cannon. The heavy bullets start flying and two of them find there way in between the turret ring and the gun mechanism. While they unfortunatly don't penetrate them, they burrow themselves deep enough in both mechanisms that those grind to a halt and the turret becomes inoperable.



As risky as it is, Poncho drives back out of his cover, to finish of the main turret, before it can blow the refinery to bits. Him driving out alone might give the gunner enough of a target to not fire into the promethium wells, which might as well kill all of you anyway. None the less it is pretty scary to watch the giant main gun aim directly towards the small, fragile Tauros. The Buggy might pack a heavy punch, but it can barely take one.
Meanwhile Simond takes a perfect opportunity or a giant dumb risk - depending on the observer - as he rides close to the superheavy tank, takes a step on his saddle and jumps on its deck plate, his Meltalance still in hand. The main turret is only a few paces away and currently turns its backside towards him...
Poncho has the first shot - his last shot, if he can't stop the turret or avoid the worst of the guns blast - and takes it. "One shot, one Kill..." he wispers as he takes quick aim and shoots another incredibly precise shot

As god as the Kriegsman placed the lasbolts, a Superheavy tank - especially shot at right from the front into the gun shield - is a mighty beast indeed. The first heavy lascannon bolt melts a whole into the thick metal deep enough for a human to put his whole arm into but doesnt really penetrate it. The second one faires a bit better, but the whole it leaves does not look like it will had done much damage... Poncho makes his piece with the Emperor, fully expecting to see him every minute, as the giant cannon aims at his buggy and... clicks. Then clicks again. By sheer luck it seems his Lascannon blast - while not killing the turret - has damaged something important inside. The Ork in charge screams in frustration and makes the once in a lifetime mistake to treat the damaged machinery with a crude big hammer - to which the propellant of the loaded shell responds by exploding and bending the main gun into a shape which will definitly not fire anywhere soon. Also from the looks of it a fire seems to start inside.
The hatches on top are thrown open, releasing thick black smoke and some of the Orks inside try to get out and bring their weapons to bear towards their attacker.

Now this might be Simonds Moment to shine. The turret is already damaged, all it takes now was a bit of luck, to finish it off... He grabs a good strong hold of his lance and charges forward like a mix of madman and hero that would put a tear of you into the eye of any Commissar and slams the Meltatip home into the back of the heavily armed turret.

The marvel of imperial technology lets out an actinic blast and the smell of ozone fills the air, as it melts a round whole with a meter diameter in its back. Instead of his worst fears Simond is not turned into dust by a gargantuan explosion, but his attack sets of even more of the propellant charges stored in the turret as well as some kind of promethium fuel and the fire started by Ponchos shot gets fully out of control, engulfing the Greenskins that tried to crawl out on top and blasting through the insides of the tank. Within the flames and smoke, Simond can just about make out the shape of an enormous Ork with some kind of Servoarm attached to its back, that starts to run into his direction to exit through the whole the Meltalance created. Beside this problem it is clear, that the cavalryman has to get of the ruin of the behemoth fast, as the fire will likely set of secondary explosions.

Turned from the blast of heat and fire and took the few running steps towards the front of the vehicle, it looked like he had a clear run down to the vehicle's front tracks. He hoped Balwin would have caught his horse, and he hoped the boy would be bringing it around.

There is little left for Simond except getting of the burning heavy tank as fast as possible. Behind him he can hear the sound of shearing metal, as the Big Mek widens the whole the Meltatip made to get out of the starting inferno of the turret. The thing is really massive, even bigger then the Nobs you saw before, with a bionic arm with a powerwench that might well lift a Chimera fused to his back. But as formidable a foe it usually would be, explosions and fire already have done quite a number on it. Almost all of its body is heavily burned, almost charred and the bionic seems to have taken serious damage too. Refusing to die just out of spite and rage, the Big Mek still tries to reach Simond and take him down with him, but Njal, Erc, Teodore and Wyona hose it down with all the firepower they can get to it. Whole chunks of meat are torn out of the tormented body and finally it goes to its knees and disappears, as the Superheavy is engulfed in flames and becomes a smoking heap of scrapmetal and grilled Orkmeat.

The only thing left is to finish off the remaining, mostly panicked or hallucinating Greenskins, which by now is more a case of administring the emperors mercy. A hand full of the less affected ones manage to flee into the jungle, but overall it is an overwhelming imperial victory. The refinery might have taken some damage through shrapnell and wreckage from the explosions, but overall it is functional and loosing a superheavy tank will seriously damage the Orks war efforts in this direction. Simond (and whoever else is inclined to do so) was also able to get himself a nice trophy, in form of Ork tusks and even the giant head of a nob that will lool nicely on a spike. As to your own losses you almost came out unharmed, with only Simond, Malakai and Adamo being seriously wounded and M'Gele having suffered some glancing hits.

As the dust settles, you report not only that you are still alive, but even have been victorious to the HQ, which is received with astounishing surprise and hasty preparations for your extraction. (Obviously nobody had expected this to be necessary after the Scions had been flown out.)
A day later, in the morning, a small troop transport escorted by two Valkyries approaches, loading of two squads of fresh Guardsmen to secure the facility as well as work crews and heavy machinery to put the refinery back into full working order. Your ragtag mob is first greeted by sneering looks from the new arrivals followed by disbelieving than utterly respectful salutes, after they have seen the wreckage and slaughter you have caused among the vile Xenos.

After your Chimera and the squad is loaded back of into the sturdy transport shuttle - which provides much more armor, room and comfort than a Valkyrie - you find yourself on your way back to the Garrison and finally able to catch a well deserved break. Your wounded have been patched up professionally, all of you got double ration packs and even some almost tasty energybars as provision as well as a cache of Skrynne beer cans for the ride, that will surely take several hours. You might get some shut-eye as well or talk about what happened and what is to come now. From the comments of the flight crew that saw the wrecked Ork tank you are likely to get some medals slapped on your chest for what you've done. But as you well know fame and celebrity is a double edged sword.
Kraitus joined you on the Valk, mostly to administer what help he can to the poor, damaged Chimera that he tends to tenderly.

Back at the Garrison, your feet almost automatically lead you to what in lack of competition has to be called "the finest establishment in town" to get a drink and celebrate life. The drinking den is already filling up nicely, but you manage to get some spots near the bar.

Tambo and M'Gele are the first to grab a can of beer, open it and toast each other and the others around "Can't believe we survived that! Here is to luck and the sky father!" With a questioning look they check the others and would give everyone who wants a can. Towards Simond they exclaim respectfully "Damn, are all soldiers from your planet such dare devils? Going after a tank with a lance on foot? Are the adamantium balls natural or bionics?"

Teodore joins them in going to the watering hole for a beer.

"To be honest, I don't even know what happened. Wyona and I were just trying to cover our little corner of the place. You guys did the hard work."

"Say Tambo, what planet did you say you from again? The Emperor must have given your people some tremendous fortune. Perhaps it is rubbing off on us now eh?"

Simond enters the bar with a slight limp and a few bandages. And a large ork tusk dangling from around his neck. During the hurried descent from the giant burning tank he'd landed a bit hard. Not that he'd felt it in the moment. He spots his comrades and heads over towards them.

'I was not on foot, I was on the war machine.' He replies with a wide smile as he pops the lid of the beer.
'I figured I was not doing much if I hit the hull. But that big gun would have shells close by.' He explains taking a draught.

Then he raises the can and gestures it to all of them assembled there.
'My fiends. To victory.' He looks to Teodore and Wyona, 'To the Emperor's protection.'
His eyes fix on Teodore 'And to those that might not have chosen this path, but still stand and fight.'

After the toast he looks around the drinking den. 'I think we need some music.'
'Sergeant Wyona if I can rustle up some, would you do me the honour of a friendly dance?' It wouldn't be his first time limping around the dance floor.

Teodore gave Simond a rousing toast when he arrived. "To the hero of Skyrnne. Huzzah!"

At the mention of being in the Astra Militarum despite his choosing he sighed. "I feel good about what I've done. I feel like I helped make a difference. But when this war is over, I want to be here to help rebuild it. This place has a promising future, if only we could push the greenskins back again. That's why I'm going to put my papers in to transfer back to the PDF as soon as possible. Of course, if I get tithed, or I'm already tithed, then so be it. It's the Emperor's will then."

As he gets up to play another song on the juke box he catches Simond's inquiry to Wyona and cracks a grin. "You got to admit he's persistent ain't he Sarge? Well I guess the taste of death hasn't dulled his bravery any eh?"

It took a moment for Poncho to join in at the bar. What clued him as to where his comrades were was the fact that the barracks was empty, and none of them was to be found training around, which would have been the standard set by the Korps.

But he was not with the Korps anymore, and so after a quick visit to offer prayers of thanks to the machine spirit of the lethal lascannons he had used, the heavily armored shape of the ex-Grenadier made its way towards where he assumed his fellow gang of misfits would be.

When he arrived, the drinks where already flowing, he took a spot that slightly out of the way, and went to order a glass of water. The Catachans he had served with had introduced the Kriegsman to booze, but it was never something he developped a taste for.

Poncho was forced to removed his helmet and facemask, it was still something that he did with a bit of reluctance, and those were carefully strewn on the table, as he looked to his comrades.

After getting home, he supervised the Rig getting parked in the bay. Of course, he and Erc offered it blessings, rubbed the sacred ungents where proscribed, and burned incense and prayed for its service. That was how you honored the Machine Spirits for getting you home safely. However, Njal noticed that he and Erc seemed to rush it a bit. Afterall, the rest of the squad was heading to the bar!

After completing their services, the two soldiers hurried over to the Skyrrne's finest establishment.... at least the only one they had access too. He saw Simond, Wynona, Tambo, M'gele and the others there.

"The bar was too damned hot, but at least it wasn't in the jungle", Njal thought.

The St Paulian cavorted and chortled along with his fellows. Now was the time to drink and remember that you were still alive! The blizzard had been weathered, and you could still count yourself among the living. He pranced and preened along with the other drunken soldiers. Tonight was for remembering what it meant to live, as tomorrow you could be with the Emperor's Choir.

Erc was off to gamble at the tables. Njal saw him playing cards with some of the other regiments. He seemed to know how to unwind a bit.

Njal was all too happy to tell battlefield tales to the other soldiers around him, the ones that were willing to listen. He realized that the Greenskins had scared him when he first got here, and to be true; they still did. But now he had bested them, and they were on the other side of the wire now! You could rain sleet on them all you wanted!

Some grumbled about his squad being a bunch of "Glory Boys", "Medal-Heads" or "Just as bad as Scions". Njal let it slide, because tonight was not a night for fighting, but for dancing, singing, and laughing. Black Hats be damned tonight!

Wyona can't help but rolling her eyes about the notorious cavalrymen, but gifts him an honest smile "Of course... if you get them to play something, I'll dance with you. But no funny business, Mister!" she jokes. As the saying goes, fighting and surviving alongside each other has quite some fraternizing effect. It might be debatable if that is a good or bad thing, but either way your sergeant seems to be a lot less snappish and loud compared to how Teodore got to know her first. As Simond drifts away and Teodore comments on his dedication she smiles and nods "He sure is. But it's fine. I had much more unpleasant dealings in my career. At least he seems like a fellow that respects a no when it counts..." now that you come to think about it, Wyona never actually discouraged Simond, even though she does try to keep it professionel between her and her subordinates when you are on duty.

On Teodores question, Tambo replies "from the steaming coastal jungles of Thoth! In the far flung corners of the segmentum Pacificus." but makes an wiggling gesture with his hand "Can't say we are known for our good luck though. But I take what I can get. Its a warm world, not unlike yours, but much dryer. Most of it is deserts and savanas, but there are some nice forests near the poles... And our plants and animals don't try to eat us... at least not all the time." he comments in respect of Skrynne being a dead world. "honestly it's still really weird to be another planet. You start to realize how many things you always took as natural are uncommon elsewhere." as the topic fits he turns towards Njal "You told us you are from an ice world. How do you... I mean... Do you live under the ice? Or on top of it? And what do you eat? Are there plants growing on ice?"
As Teodore seems to be rather humble, M'Gele claps him friendly on the shoulder, trying out a new nickname as "kid" doesn't quite cut it any more "Don't sell yourself short Teddy. You did good, really good. You stood your ground and took down some of the bastards, that's all that counts."


Poncho taking off his mask does grant him some curious looks from two or three of the other patrons in the bar, as a Krieger without his mask is not a very common sight to see. The Barkeep asks back two times if he heard him correctly and then hands him his glas of water with a slightly puzzled look - that was definitly one of the rarer orders around here. He could see Simond going away and shuffling his way to an ancient looking jukebox on the side, while the others were talking. As they notice him, they wave him closer to join them.

Even though the bar - as most of this planet - was too damn hot, Njal at least got his hands on a really cold beer, which helped increase his mood even more. And even though some of the other guardsmen might grumble about the glory hogs, an equal amount seemed to be willing to pay for a round and hear your stories and boasts - more interested in some good entertainment then for the objective truth. The fact that even some Scions confirmed that you indeed were there at the refinery and not lost a single trooper already sets the stage for some awesome reputation...


"No way you brought down a superheavy... I mean, how?" one of the new arrivals asks disbelievingly, giving you the opportunity to boast some more.
Over at the jukebox, two Brontians blocking it look Simond up and down before one of them points provokingly with a knife - which he should have left at the counter, but here you have your Brontians - at the Ork tusk around his neck "How did you get this boy? Found a corpse lying around and though to get some fancy necklace?"

Njal looked at Tambo, "Well, not much lives outside on the ice. All the water and life is below it. No one can survive on the surface for more than a few hours before you freeze your junk off."

"No, we live inside huge drill rig platforms that dig through the ice and bring up the water of life. Everything revolves around that. Hydroponics and trading the water keeps us fed for the most part."

Njal then settles in low at a table, cupping his beer in his hand, "Now gather around kiddies and I will tell you all a little war story...." With that, he launches into the tale of the super-heavy. Occasionally, he kicks it off to one of his comrades to fill in the details, before turning the spotlight back to his own story.

Simond stops and looks up at the two Brontians with their knives. They were both a bit more than a head taller than him.
He took a breath in.
He was already limping, one arm couldn't really be relied on. He had that dance with the lovely Sergeant Wyona and they didn't look like the kind to take any of what they called 'grox gak'. And of course they had those knives.
He decided he'd have to do something he'd regret.

He gives them both a smile and lifts his chin. 'You boys ever see what happens when a melta lance hits a bandolier of grenades?'
He gestures to the bandages and dressings.
'Damn near killed myself to be honest. Wasn't too much left of the ork but its head.

There wasn't any recovering anything from the tank I lanced either.' He adds with a sly grin. Of course he'd not say anything about the size of the tank, they would learn, and he didn't want to give them more reason to disbelieve him.

'Now lads, if your curiosity is sated, could you step asside and allow me to put some music on before my dancing partner gets impatient.'

Speaking to Tambo: "Yeah being a Death World definitely makes life interesting around here. Those hell cats were something else weren't they? But all that promethium is going to change things a lot once we beat the orks back. Hell, maybe they'll even build a proper hive someday."

Teodore joins Njal at the table nodding oddly at the Death Korp man without a mask. "They can breathe our atmosphere and not die?" He mutters to himself in wonder. He notices the confrontation at the juke box but decides to keep quiet for now. He does comment quietly though. "I sure hope Sarge watered down the official report on that last mission. If the brass thinks we're some kind of miracle squad, we're going to get sent on a real suicide mission. Not to mention....the usual nonsense that fame brings.”

He sighs reluctantly. "You guys really need to tamp down on the boasting. I mean seriously...we are entitled to an easy assignment after that last mission."

He glances back to the jukebox to see if a fight breaks out.

Njal slaps the Skyrnne on the back, "Hold your ice Teodore! If you take boasting away from a guardsman, all he has left is a handful of snow.

Son of Krieg, join us!" The ice worlder gestures expressively for the man to sit at the table too.

Tambo seems fascinated from Njals description of his homeworld that is so much different from his own. "I would love to see that one day... even if I would most likely freeze my toes off in the process."
As the St. Paulian gathers his audience, quite some guardsmen join him, especially the younger, inexperienced and still idealistic as well as some oldtimers who value a nice bit of boasting. Some other grizzled veterans that are right in between turn away a bit - be it out of lack of interest, envy or disbelief. But anyway, several people listen eagerly as Njal tells his tale.

Over at the jukebox, the two Brontians don't look to convinced or pleased about Simonds explanation, and make little impression of believing him. One of them looks over to the entry of the bar though, were one of the younger blackhats is posted to keep things civil and touches the arm of his comrad "Leave him, he's not worth it... not here..." and both grudgingly make way for Simond. He doesn't have the impression that both will ambush and stab him outside or such, but he most definitly hasn't made friends tonight. The music selection in the jukebox has lots of room for improvement, but in between some classical imperial marches, that seem to never get selected, there are some gems of more modern, local dancing music, that might serve his purpose.

Towards Teodore, who mentioned that he would prefer to transfer back to the PDF and stay on Skrynne, Wyona rubs her chin and answers "Me too... but I'm afraid that we can't count on that. Some soldiers will stay here and it would make the most sense if it where the locals, but we are in the administratum folders now and nothing more than little numbers there. So if the clerc in charge doesn't bother to think about it further, we could get shuffled to anywhere..."
Regarding his comment about the Kriegers ability to breath on Skrynne, M'Gele replies "Wouldn't count on it the other way around. From what I heard, Krieg is a radioactive wasteland. A wonder that anything survived there. But then again: if their world dying barely slowed them them down, the Imperiums enemies are in for a bad time!"

His other thought seem to bring the two Askaris to think though, as they hadn't seen it that way. "Hmm... damn, Teddy could be right. Would be nice to not be meat for the grinder for once and maybe even get some nice toys to play with. But one forlorn hope mission is enough for a lifetime. Any ideas what we might do about it?" the question is targeted at the whole group, but maybe mainly at Teodore, who seems to have put some more thought into that, then the others have before.

Teodore shrugged at Tambo's suggestion. "It's not like they ask for my opinion on anything. But if some Commissar started talking about using us for propaganda vids again, I'd let that Commissar know it was the best idea he's ever had. Of course, then again, it's not like I'd be disagreeing with a Commissar, even if his orders were all gakked up."

Teodore sighed at Sarge's mention of paperwork and not having control over anything. "Geez, it sounds like it would be easier to convince a Munitorium clerk that one of us was Killed in Action then to get transferred anywhere."

That thought got Teodore thinking a little more about whether that was a real possibility, the size of the bribe that would be involved, and the likelihood of getting caught and executed. He kept quiet about these thoughts though for the time being. He wasn't a coward and he wasn't desperate afterall...but having an "escape" plan sure sounded like a good idea if something really crazy happened.

Njal finished up his tale and leaned back smiling. Even if this place was too fething hot, at least he was alive!

He pointed to one of the grizzled veterans, "Your turn friend. I bet you have a tale to tell!"

As the story got going, he got up and joined his squad. He glanced around for Adamo and his fellow Brontian, but did not see them around. Perhaps they were off with the company of their own regiment?

"I for one wouldn't mind getting off this greenhouse. Go someplace with proper weather.

Tambo, is it as hot on Thoth?"

Njals question is answered with a smile from Tambo "It's even warmer. Hot and humid in the jungles, hotter and dry in the savannas and deserts further from the poles. But the animals and plants have a lot less fight in it than around here, so I would say it's a quite nice place to live. Maybe you get lucky and they carry us to one of the poles here, I heard they have icecaps that would feel like home for your lot."

The Veteran that Njal invited to tell one of his tales is not shy of boasting a bit himself, about some pretty grim figthing at one of the garrisons outposts a couple of miles away, which came down to lasguns and bajonets, when the expected supply of heavy ammunition blew up right in the supply docks. While everyone around seems to enjoy the story and gives the scarred Brontian the praise that is due for his exploits, you can hear a couple of mumblings about there being quite a lot of these "accidents" lately, that got the imperials into trouble. Nothing that would decide the war on Skrynne, but enough that the imperial war machine is funneling a lot more ressources into Skrynne than originally planned for.

On Teodores thought about how to get out of the hot water for a while, M'Gele scratches his chin and chips in "Or maybe we could somehow manage to attach ourself to some brass as kind of bodyguard or something. I don't know... some colonel who managed to not get shot for some decades in warzones seems to have a good habit of staying out of harms way. And would not send his bodyguards away, would he? A blackhat might be more dangerous, but on the other hand Commissar Cole already knows us, which is a good start... maybe?"
He doesn't sound too convinced of his plan, more thinking out loud.

Meanwhile the music comes on and Simond shuffles back towards his future dancing partner, while one or two of the other patrons also at least tap their feet or sway a little to the rhythm

Njal's ears perked up at the soldier's chatter. Accidents?

"Accidents? What kind of accidents? Do the rest of you have some stories?"

On his previous deployment he had been stomping in the faces of some farmer's who thought they didn't need to give their crops for the Emperor. They liked to play nice when you were standing and watching, but once you turned your back they were up to all kinds of antics.

As Njal inquires, the mood around him gets a bit mixed. While some of the soldiers around seem to agree with the veterans comments and have their own little suspicions, others just roll their eyes and murmur something about paranoia, people wearing tin foil hats or trying to cover up incompetence and bad luck with some kind of conspiracy story.

A St. Paulian corporal answers "Last week two of our flatbed trucks had an accident right in the tunnel leading towards southern artillery positions. They say the driver was drunk and drove right into the opposite lane, but I knew old Pjotr. The guy was a saint, never touched a glass, never even smoked. Tunnel was closed for hours." another soldier adds to her story "Heard from a friend they had some bad case of food poisoning last month down south. Lost half a platoon to some nasty bacteria. Sure it's a death world around here, but the PDF cooks have managed to not kill their troops pretty well for years...", "Anyone remembers the hangar fire on Imperial day? Nearly costed us two Valkyries..." "... or the Ork Commandos that killed the Brontian 5ths Colonel? They never found out how they managed to hack the digital locks to get into the command post..."
"By the emperor calm down, its a big planet and a war. gak happens! People frack up, machines break down, enemies get lucky. Happens all the time!" a disgruntled Askari comments on that.
"Quite a lot of bad luck recently though, don't you think?" the Ice world corporal who started it confronts him. Specifically looking at Njal and his new squad she adds "And regarding the big pile of crap we faced during our glorious landing here: Our Major threw in his weight and asked around a bit. He lost some good friends and thought he owed them to at least find out whats wrong. Turns out some trafo station blew up right that morning. That's why the automatic weapon emplacements that should have kept the landing ground clear did not work properly. And also... quite a lucky coincidence that the Greenskins knew exactly when, where and from what direction the shuttles would come, don't you think?"

... So it was something quite personal also for your lot.

Overall from this stories and others Njal hears the impression remains that the Askari had kind of a point: most of the stories could well be just bad luck, incompetence or the orks being more capable than they are usually given credit for. On the other hand these "accidents" seem to have become much more frequent since about two months ago, so before your arrival. And most of it where things that could be arranged by a couple of people that knew where to cut a cable, switch of some safeguard, shorten some circuits or "misplace" some invaluable item. Meanwhile it all seemed balanced just right to not outright scream sabotage.

Teodore takes a minute to think this all over. "If it is sabotage, I'm sure the Commissariat will route it out. But I don't think it's anything any of us can deal with. Not my job, not my problem."

He looks around. "What do you guys think? This worth bringing up with Commissar Cole? Personally, I'd be inclined to not say anything. He'd probably just accuse us of treachery and execute us on the spot."

"Ole Tambo taught me a rule. Avoid the Black Hats whenever possible. Ignoring that rule got me stuck with you lot!"

Njal gives a huge grin and slaps the ASkari on the back heartily.

"I bet the old bast... honorable Commissar is already sniffing this out for quite some time if there is any substance to that..." M'Gele argues, while Tambo scratches his chin "still pretty ugly business. Cause if it is sabotage it is likely one of our own guardsmen or someone really good at pretending to be one. Don't really think a civilian could pull it off to get to all these places. Just the situation to poison the atmosphere between the defenders. And for people to settle old grudges and snitch on scapegoats..."

Simond finishes his dance, gets a drink each for himself and the sergeant and rejoins his comrades, as he approaches he can hear them speaking in lower tones, concerning tones. He does consider continuing the celebration, but he decides, no he should see what the men he fought beside are concerned about.
He'd learnt to not disregard hidden dangers in the camp, you'd not go to dine by the emperor's table if you got unwittingly cut down in a mutiny or attempted coup.
'Bad business in the camp?' He asked as joined the group.

Teodore nods.

"Yeah that's what it sounds like. But I'm not sure what if anything we can do about it. We're soldiers, not enforcers or commissars or anything like that mate."

Njal scratched his beard, "Well, we just have to keep our goggles clear and watch our own kit. Then, we do what the Guard does best; follow orders?"

Njal shrugged and turned back to his drink. All this talk had taken some of the celebration out of the night.

While the talk about these "accidents" somewhat sour the mood for a while, you manage to still have a nice evening and celebrate your victory - or to be more precise your survival - to the best of your abilities. Simonds capabilities as a dancer even earns him the company of two other guardswomen and a surprisingly lightfooded Brontian heavy gunner along the night, while the others enjoy some more lighthearted stories and even join in some singing that could likely only be enjoined after you got slightly tipsy. Finally you too retire to your quarters, knowing that tomorrow you have a day of downtime only dedicated to get your kit in order, heal any injuries and get you mind back on track for normal guard duty. As you go to bed, Malakai and Adamo are still out there somewhere, likely partying with their regiment you suppose.

But as you wake up next morning and their cots are still empty, you start to suspect that something is awry. As Tambo an M'Gele put up a hot brew of recaff they procured from who knows where, Wyona leaves your compartment to make some calls and find out, where your Brontians might be. You settle around the crate that serves as impromptu table, break up some ration packs and try to enjoy them as best as you can. Todays flavor is one of your favorite "bland and crumbly"... There are worse ones. The aroma of recaff compensates that somewhat, as all of you get a healthy swig from the can. The two Askaris add some spices to theirs and offer to share whith whoever wants some, while they settle in too.

A while later, Wyona returns with a grave look on her face and sits down heavily on on of the chairs. Her look means bad news, that's for sure. "No wonder Malakai and Adame didn't return, they are in the clink." "What? Why?" M'Gele asks surprised. "Theft, destruction of Munitorum property... and murder." Wyona replies gravely and then continues.
"Yesterday evening someone picked the lock on the back door of the sickbay to get access to the medical cabinet. A whole bunch of narcotics and other medicines went missing. They also destroyed a cleaning servitor that got in the way and was about to sound an alarm. Looks like an unfortunate medicae assistant was working late on some paperwork and went looking were the noise came from, so they cut his throat and left him bleeding to death. The cuts were from Brontian knives." already up until here, that really did not sound good.
"An hour later, the Arbites and their cybermastifs found Malakai and Adamo in a shack some streets away, high to the brim on Obscura and with some of the drugs still on them. They also had blood on their knives. Damn idiots... They are up for execution one of the next days."

The silence that follows is pretty heavy and depressing. After a short while, you register though that Tambo seems very uncomfortable. A bit like he has something to say, but doesn't really want to. Finally he brings himself to comment "With all due respect sarge... but something smells really fishy here. I mean..." he hesitates a moment and continues sheepishly "... okay, lets say I knew that Malakai... sometimes needed a little something for the nerves. You know, just to keep his aim steady, keep the bad memories away. Come on, we all do, it's just that some of us are able to cope a different way." he looks around for signs of disapproval.
"And lets just say I know that he didn't use Obscura. And that he already had gotten a way to get his hands on what he needed to continue to do the good work of the emperor. Why by Terra would he do something that will likely earn him a bolt to the face, for stuff he neither needed nor wanted? Doesn't make sense, does it?" he asks around.

Simond:
Njal:
Teodore:

Njal frowned. Quite a blizzard just rolled in.

"Those two guys weren't too good with the Machine-spirits. How would they get through a Muni lockbox? They couldn't."

You couldn't tell a Arbite or a Black Hat they were wrong though. You needed proof or you could find yourself on the wrong end of the Regs.

''Can we even talk to them?''

Poncho asked, unfamiliar with all that process, after all, the Death Korps had few issues like those, and his time with the Catachans had been spent entirely on the field, not to mention they themselves had their own means to ensure their soldiers could avoid Commissariat justice.

"Good idea Poncho. This stinks like a thawing wooly Mamute.

What do you think Sarge, could we talk to them?"

Wyona thinks for some moments and replies "Hmm... I think I should be able to get to them... and maybe take one of you with me, but I guess everything we say will be monitored, so we should keep that in mind. Teodore might be able to have a word with the Medicae staff though, or even have a look around...
And regarding the locks: sounds like something one of the cogboys could make sense of, but they are usually not fond of leaving their toys just because some meatback asks them nicely. But maybe, just maybe, one of you can find Kraitus crawling around somewhere. He seemed a decent fellow and was really thankfull that we saved the refinery."

Teodore nods. "I'll do what I can."

[Will make investigation roll to coincide with what the other chars are doing]

Simond scratches his moustache, as he considers what his comrades had said. 'I can't believe it was them.' He bites his lip as his comrades turn their attention on him. 'You all saw those Brontians flashing their blades out at the slightest opportunity, how much care they fawned over their knives. Any of you ever see either of those Brontians ever have so much as a spec of grime on their knife blades?
Something rotten is festering here.'

"OK, then let's do it. We have little time to waste. Njal, I guess you are our best bet to have a look at the locks and try find a clue there. Maybe you can even get your hands on Kraitus with some kind of excuse - or the truth for that matter. Never really understood how the cogboys tick." Wyona mentions with a shrug. "Last time I saw him he was screwing around with the heat dispenser at the back of the mess hall.

Teodore, take one of the others with you to the sickbay and sniff around a bit. Maybe one of the other medicae heard something." looking around she nods towards Simond, who had taken a bit of a beating during your last fights "Simond, go with him. Poncho, you are with me. I guess you look the least suspicious to get join me on a little prisoner chat..." to herself Wyona also thinks that he might be the most likely to keep his mouth shut, as they will most likely be heavily monitored there.
"Any comments?"

"Yes ma'am," Njal nods, not bothering with a more formal salute. Hopefully they were all past that now.

He took his leave and started heading for the back of the mess hall, where Kraitus was last seen. Sure, he knew a few things about tech but no one cared what a guardsman had to say about it. It was better to get an expert opinion.

Teodore grins at Simond. "Right Simond, so all you need to do is start walking with a limp, and we can give yah some crutches to go with it."

"We'll go in there to try and requisition some pain medication for your injuries and ask around. Maybe something will turn up."

'Yes Sergeant.' He replied with a tip of his head.

Simond grins back to Teodore, "I can do just that." He says rather eagerly.
He gives a Teodore sly wink filled with the implication that he'd not begrudge a moment's company with the clinic's female orderlies, medicaes or assistants.
'You poke around, ask the questions you need. I'll limp.'

Behind the mess hall

Nothing looks particularly suspicious on Njals way through the garrison. Just the usual buzzing activity of an imperial guard supply-, housing- and training hub. And even though your little groups exploits have gained you some prominence around the guardsmen, not many of them really recognize any of you, unless directly facing you and remembering the pictscreen recordings from some weeks ago. For everyone else, Njal looks like just another St. Paulian struggling with the heat on the planet.

Reaching the mess hall there is at first no sign of Kraitus to be found, but moments before he admits defeat and considers asking around some more to find the Techpriest, Njal hears a familiar fizzling noise from the low roof of the building, barely making out some electric blue sparks hanging in the air. That might just be "Sparky", the not really well isolated Servitor of your former companion. Using a dumpster and a stack of crates, Njal manages to pull himself up to the roof and indeed finds the Techpriest there, going to town on an air conditioning unit, while Sparky fixes some new wiring to the roof with a staplegun and his usual singleminded determination to a given task. As he gets closer, the St. Paulian gets a slight breeze of refreshing cold air from the machine that still sputters a bit, as Kraitus fastens a bunch of nuts to keep the tubings in place. His tentacle like optical mechandrite snakes towards Njal, noticing his presence, but the Cogboy makes no effort in pausing his endavour. Good manored as he is, Njall waits some minutes, until finally Kraitus turns around, mustering him out of his more or less natural pair of eyes. With a mechanical sussuration in his voice he asks "Greetings meatba... guardsmen. State the purpose of your visit."



Sickbay

Teodore and his limping patient find their way towards the specific sick bay that was mentioned in the report. It is one far from the Brontian garrison building but close to where your lot crashed. In other words a bit weird place to brake in and steal stuff for your two comrades, as they might be recognized there, on the other hand the logical choice if someone from the Brontian regiment wanted to get something and not steal where they are treated themselves. So someone looking for a scapegoat might have naturally been looking for some Brontians to frame. But you are fully aware that when it comes to evidence to free Malakai and Adamo, that was pretty thin.
As Simond is obviously wounded and needing treatment and there is no specific reason to reject Teodore, you don't have any problems getting in. The front door is open and just guarded by an Arbites, but you can see the digitial lock on it as well notice that the doors look quite solid. Inside you find a large waiting room, filled with lots and lots of soldiers with minor injuries waiting for treatment with the silent, inexhaustible patience of people who know that every hour spend here is an hour not on the frontline. This is in quite a contrast to the emergency operational theater Teodore worked in that was (and still is) buzzing with activity due to the treatment of constant new arrivals from the battlefield. So all in all a rather quiet, low level target that therefore likely had a rather low priority when it came to security.

In one corner near the counter you notice a pict frame of a young medicae with a black ribon bound around it. If you would have to guess it might be in remembrance of the guy that was killed last night - with Adamo and Malakai as prime suspects. Two nurses are sitting at the counter processing the flood of soldiers in the waiting room and might be a good adress for further inquiries or to get the opportunity to look around a bit.

Arbites building and holding cells

Wyona and Poncho make their way towards the local quarters of the Arbites - no real Adeptus Arbites, but the local police force that is just called that way by every soldier around. A large cybermastif without a leash guards the entrance with a sharp and determined look on his face and an impressive augmetic jaw with adamantium teeth that should bite through flak armor or even carapace as if it was butter. As you enter the building two of the peacekeepers are just transfering a guy from the interrogation room to his cell. The unfortunate bloke seems to have tripped into the doorframe several times and somehow managed to loose a couple of teeth and break his nose and some of his fingers in the process. As Wyona gets to the counter asking for Adamo and Malakai she is mustered by the clerk in charge with a healthy portion of suspicion before her name and ID is logged in meticulously and she is searched for any hidden weapons or similar. Poncho is treated significantly "friendlier" in a sense that the clerk just orders him to leave all weapons he eventually has at his body in the name of the emperor, fully expecting the Krieger to follow this order to the letter. As the Kriegers tend to resolve any disciplinary issues amongst themselves quite efficiently, Poncho seems to enjoy the benefit of the doubt when it comes to that.

After waiting some minutes in awkward silence, you are escorted towards a room with a series of tables with seats on two sides, separated by an armorglass wall between them. The prisoners can sit on one side of the glass wall in a kind of half booth, while the visitors sit on the other side, both talking to each other through a kind of phone. Naturally nothing phyiscal can be exchanged between both and your conversation will be easily monitored and recorded. Routinely the Arbites guiding you instructs Wyona to try and get the names of potential accomplices out of the two suspects as well as find out where they stashed the remaining drugs. There will be no reduction in punishment of course, but they might at least win back a slimmer of dignity after their betrayal of the imperial cause...
Soon after the two Brontians enter the room and take a seat on the opposite site of the glass. They look severely hung over and still a tat confused about the whole situation. Malakai specifically also looks quite angry and grudging, almost shouting at Wyona as soon as he can "For F***s sake, some arsehole has framed us!" "Keep it down soldier!" is all Wyona replies, gesturing him to settle down. "What's the last you remember?"

Both Brontians look at each other, murmuring "Honestly... not much. We packed away our stuff, went to meet some of our guys, maybe had a drink or two and then... it's just blank." Adamo adds "The Arbites insist that temporary memory loss is a side effect of an obscura overdose, but that's bs... That's not how... I mean, I never heard that the stuff works like that." the last words are added after he looks at the telephone receiver in his hand and its cable vanishing into the desk with some realization.

Njal had dealt with plenty of cogboys in his time. They were common as icicles on his home planet. All those water extraction rigs didn't operate on their own afterall. Still, it was always a bit uncomfortable as the Tech-priests were not fully human anymore, and their social skills were typically..... lacking.

"Honorable Tech-Priest, I came to ask for your help. We served together at the refinery, along with a few Brontians. I am sure your cogitators recall them.

Those, Brontians were pulled in by the Black Hats for breaking into the Medicae and killing an orderly. They got pushed up by the plow, and are in jail.

I need your help to investigate what is going on, and if the threat here is deleted. Can you help a fellow advocate for the Omnissiah complete his... ah.... mission parameters?"

Njal hoped some sprinkled in jargon would help sell his case.

.

Two nurses are sitting at the counter processing the flood of soldiers in the waiting room and might be a good adress for further inquiries or to get the opportunity to look around a bit.

Teodore walks up to the nurses. "Hey did you all hear there was some kind of murder and break in last night? That seems pretty darn weird."

Simond shoots Teodore a quick glare for his lack of subtlety. But lets him take the lead in this, ready to butt in if he needs to.

Medicae building

While Teodores inquiry somewhat lacks finesse, him being from Skrynne and a paramedic himself - a young one on top of it - seems to gain him some basic sympathies from the nurses. One of them, an older Women with a grey dutt and a name tag of "Orderly Oleana" only takes a glance at Simond and replies in a hushed voice "Weird? It's a scandal! Good thing they could those bastards red handed... A bolt to the head is too god for them. Poor Oliver. Just wanted to get on top of his paperwork in the orthopedic theater. He rests at the emperors table now..." she sighs and makes the half aquila sign with her thumb in her palm, that is common in some parts of Skrynne as kind of blessing and to ward of evil. The second nurse, a younger man of maybe 25 years of age names "Orderly Smith" at her side, still looks pretty shaken and in shock and doesn't reply to your first question, just looking towards you with a blank expression.
"We'll hold a small service in the evening, if you want to join.", Oleana extends as invitation towards Teodore.

Right now both of them don't really make the impression as if they would talk about it further without good cause. It might be an idea to get a bit more involved, maybe by stating you knew Oliver or something similar. Alternatively to sniff around, you would need to convince them, to get Simond checked out in the same area the murder happened.

Roof of the mess hall

Kraitus takes a long look at Njal, who has the impression of being measured and examined like a peculiar museum piece before the Tech priest replies "Indeed, your identity matches to one of the individuals at the refinery." He seems ignorant and disinterested of Malakais and Adamos problems though - that much can still be glanced on his augmented face. He seems on the brink of ordering him to bugger of, as Njal mentions being a fellow advocate for the Omnissiah which makes the techpriest hesitates. Within his enhanced cerebral cortex he loads some protocols and subroutines regarding imperial etiquette to formulate his refusal to get involved in such worldly affairs, as the cooling aggregate behind him suddenly sputters, crackles and lets out a series of splatters of cooling fluid that form a puddle on the roof. Rolling his remaining natural eye the Techpriests exclaims something in binary which Njal does not understand in detail but enough to know its curses and turns around towards the machine. He stops himself in his tracks though and turns back "Guardsman. Your service record state you hail from an ice world. Maintenance protocols from the St. Paulus regiment state all vehicles are fitted with air conditioning. I order you to assist me in resanctifying this stupid piece of... this enraged machine spirit. That should free up time in my schedule to inspect your problem." he seems to check in his databank again for a proverb "One Mechandrite washes the other?"

Njal licked his lips. Well, air conditioning wasn't exactly his specialty, he preferred heaters. That was a lot easier to work and a/c units.

I will do my best, but I am a lowly lay-person. Njal made the sign of the Omnissiah as best he could and kneeled down to take a closer. He pulled his rudimentary tool kit from his pouch and purposefully rolled it out and surveyed the contents. He muttered prayers and incantations as he went.

"Ummm yeah, it only seems proper to pay my respects and all. But I'll have to see to my patient first. He gestures to Simond. He needs to get checked out at [insert wherever the murder happened], can you let us in there?"

[I'll try for a cunning roll or something like that]

Alternatively to sniff around, you would need to convince them, to get Simond checked out in the same area the murder happened.

Simond inwardly glares at Teodore, the man is standing too far away to allow for Simond to step on his foot innocuously. 'Honoured healers,' He says giving a deep bow, 'please forgive us, I think my friend here is confused, he was training to be a doctor, and is always worried for my welfare, which I cannot fault him at. I ask to pay my respects to the fallen. It is always a blow when a healer dies, and it is sacrilegious that one who does the Emperor's work' He says piously clutching the aquila pendant that is over his coat, 'should be murdered by the faithless. If you will I'd not want to encroach on your important time and the sacred duty of saving the lives of the faithful. If you could point us to where orderly Oliver fell so we may pay our respects I would be much obliged.'

Teodore looks at Simond with a bit of confusion but catches on quickly. "Are you sure you feel up to it? I wouldn't want you to over do and hurt yourself further, particularly since we haven't even yet consulted with a machine spirit that can see where the break in your bone might lie. (An X-Ray machine lol)"

"Well if you insist, I suppose we can always entreat that machine spirit tomorrow. You are right about the importance of honoring the dead."

Hospital

The older nurse listens to Simonds story and seems positively moved, touching a pendant that in style reminds the cavalryman a little bit of the ornamentation on the armors of the sisters hospitaler on his planet. As Teodore explains a bit further, that he has to check out Simonds bones she nods and types a bit on her cogitator. "I'll check you in for examination room teta three. Right down this floor, the 5th door on the right. That's were poor Oliver died and we also have the required machine there to check out your fracture. It's empty right now as most of our staff don't feel comfortable there, but if you want to pay your respects and get checked out soon, you might as well use it..." She also hands Teodore a key to open it.


The room is not hard to find, as they are all labeled and soon you find yourself in a relatively large examination room that only differs from the others in being directly beside the room with the medicine cabinets, which might explain why poor Oliver might have stumbled in the way of the suspected drug addicts. You can make out a couple of diagnostors, including one to diagnose broken bones, but also a desk with a chair that - regardless of the work of the cleaning crew - is still stained by some blood splatters.
One thing is odd though. The connecting door between both rooms is locked and doesn't look as if it was replaced recently so the lock must have been picked or opened with a key. Also Oliver seems to have died on his desk. From the report it sounded as if Adamo and Malakai tried to break into the medicine cabinet, stumbled above Oliver and killed him to not get caught. But as you saw, the rooms are labeled and locked even at daytime. Which means there are three ways that could have happened:
1. The two Brontians for some reason broke the lock on the examination room, found and killed Oliver inside and then broke the lock between examination room and medicine cabinet - which sounds unneccessary complicated.
2. They broke into the medicine cabinet, for some reason decided to open the connecting door, found Oliver and killed him at his desk
3. They broke into the medicine cabinet, Oliver got up to look after the source of the noise in the next room, opened the door, then got back to his desk and was killed there.

None of the three options sounds particularly sensible. Instead Teodores gut feeling tells him, that whoever did this purposely wanted to get into the examination room and/or kill Oliver in addition to getting into the medicine cabinet. Or maybe even did the latter just to divert attention from his intentions in the examination room.



Mess hall roof


While Njal did not manage to impress Kraitus enough to adjust his low respect for the common guardsman, his pointers regarding the cooling unit seem to be... adequate. At some points the techpriest orders him to hold something or press something down and in between the two of you, you finally manage to wrestly the unwilling machine spirit into submission. "Your assistance was... acceptable. You freed up 19 minutes and 28 seconds of my schedule. As a gesture of comrady I'm willing to reschedule this timeframe to investigate your problem. Lead the way, Guardsman.

"I will not waste your time. Please follow me." Njal again awkwardly made the sign of the Omnissiah.

He quickly led Kraitus to the back of the sick bay. He gestured at the lock on the door.

"The report claims this lock was broken, and the intruder accessed the location. Can you confirm, and do you know how it was broken?

Njal knew enough about tech-priests. They wanted you to get to the point. No further need to be subtle, just tell Kraitus what was needed.

Simond takes his time at the place where the medicae died. As he appears to contemplate the healer's death.
He scans the furniture and floor for scuffs and checks the shape of the left over blood to get some insight into how he'd died. It should be easy to discern if the healer had been held and had his throat slashed like a hog, or if the killing had been a panicked affair and the healer had resisted in any way. Or if the healer had thought himself safe till the moment the blade cut into his flesh. He mutters a long and heart felt prayer to the emperor and hopes that Teodore can find something useful whist the medicae is preoccupied with him.

'Thank you for your patience healer, I am ready for your examination now.'

Poncho listened closely to the words of the prisoners, nodding along.

''Do you remember who you were drinking with. We could ask them.''

Teodore mutters a quick prayer to the machine spirit of his diagnosticator:

"I'm going to sweep this place for DNA. Also if you notice anything like a hair sample, piece of clothing, or anything like that, let me know."

[Just using my machines to make a sweep for forensic evidence]

Arbites building and holding cells

"We had a drink with Brock, Reilla, Yury and Old Ivankowitch. Just ask around our compound and you'll find them. But we told the Blackhats the same, so they likely have already sniffed them out." Adamo does not seem very happy admitting that they told the names of their drinking buddies, but you assume the Commissars have their methods to make suspects talk. "But when we left... we were pretty clear in the head, believe me. And it was not so late, at least an hour before... you know. Someone else did this. But after we left our friends its just..." Malakai makes a gesture as if stumbling around in a room that suddenly went dark "... just foggy. Next thing I know we wake up in that holding cell."

Back of the mess hall

Kraitus focusses on the mechanical lock, extending his hands, optical mechandrite and other mechanical appendices, that Njal isn't eager to look at too closely. However unused to small talk the tech priest seems to be, when it comes to machines, he is as deligient as any other member of the cult mechanicus. After opening the casing and taking a quick look, a set of pincers on his mechandrite pulls out a couple of wires that only recently have been fixed together and isolated again. Quite likely those were used to short circuit the lock and open it. But the Techpriest does not seem satisfied and rumages deeper in the mysterious mechanism, inserting some kind of adapter into a small socket. For a couple of seconds a series of small beeps emerge from the depth of his hood and Njal can make out lines of code running through the cogitator display on Kraitus chest. Suddenly he turns towards the St. Paulian with a disgusted impression. "This device was needlessly damaged!" Registering the surprise on Njals face, as he specifically already told Kraitus that the lock was broken, he elaborates "This lock was already deactivated when those wires were short circuited. But why?" Njal could imagine why - to cover up how it was truly opened. As he implies as much, Kraitus seems to access some more data from the device muttering to himself for a couple of minutes "No data available... deleted... restoring... files corrupted... checking check sums..." turning back to Njal he informs him "Multikey number E-1047-Rho-243... Attached to Adeptus Munitorum Clerk second class Juan Perez, water purification plant Gamma." That would be near the Arbites building where Wiona and Poncho went. "Clerk Perez willfully damaged this lock. He should be punished for this affront!" Kraitus highlights again, even though it might be less clearcut than that. None the less it should be interesting to have a chat with Perez, why his Multikey was used to open that door and why someone took quite some effort to cover up that it was.

Sick Bay

Simonds Investigation of the last remaining blood traces give him a rough picture of what happened, especially as he finds some the cleaning crew has missed so far. The odd thing that Simond sees are some blood splatters that are at places you would expect when there was at least a bit of a struggle - as in the report that stated that Adamo and Malakai were surprised by Oliver and killed him after a short push and shove. But the splatters... just don't look right somehow. More like someone tried to make it look that way. Instead it seems to him that Oliver was sitting at his desk, he then turned around, facing towards the door that leads to the central floor, not the medicine cabinet. The Cavalrymen is not sure, but it does not look as if Oliver really got up from his chair. Which is weird as he must have seen his would be attacker. The report said his throat was cut, and it would have been hard to get behind him with the chair turned towards the door. If you would have to guess you would think that whoever came in was threatening Oliver, forcing him to remain seated. The lethal cut - the report said to the throat - came from the side. Which might mean there were two, one threathening to remain in his seat, the other standing beside him and killing him with a knife.
This begs the question: if they already decided to kill the orderly, why not just stab him right away? And if they decided spontanously, why did they get into this room anyway? Might they have wanted some information from the orderly before they killed him?

Teodores sweep for DNA at first does not really gain anything of specific interest. Overall the expected, traces of some of the medical personell, minor traces of some patients who went through, almost nothing on the diagnostors and the examination couch which speaks for regular cleaning - good, even if a bit frustrating when looking for evidence. The Paramedic is about to give up frustrated, as he is about to join the gang of team members that notice something odd. Back at the reception desk he had noticed that the nurses don't wear gloves when using the cogitators keyboards. Not a big deal as long as you disinfect your hands and use gloves for the patients. Obviously that would leave some traces of DNA with time in between the keys. Yet the keyboard at Olivers desk is... strange. There are some DNA traces of the orderly on the keys but... just from him. Which is a bit strange as he surely would not have been the only one working at that keyboard. Would the Orderly really have thorougly cleaned the keyboard before using it? Also a little voice in Teodore points him towards the fact that an investigator might have been "satisfied" after finding DNA traces of the victim on the keyboard just checking for himself that the killer did not use it, without worrying about why there were not a lot more traces as there should be. Could it be that someone used that cogitator, then cleaned it and then just... dangled Olivers dead hand a bit along it?

Poncho nods and begins to take notes.

"Maybe there is more to learn from them, Blackhats or not. The Catachans that... I fought alongside of, were much quieter when they were around. Do you remeber if you left your drinks unwatche?d"

Njal thanked Kraitus and flashed him the sign of the Omnissiah.

This Juan Perez clerk seemed like a promising lead. However, before he talked to him he really wanted to make sure the Sarge was in the loop. He didn't want to walk into a blizzard alone.

The trooper pocketed the bits of wire. He flicked on his comm-bead, "Sarge, this if Njal. Can I get your 6? Over."

Arbites holding cells

Asked if they left their drinks unwatched Adamo replies "We were trying to unwind a bit, mate. O'course we left our drinks standing around now and then." Malakai adds "come to think of it, I don't even remember how we left, do you?" to which Adamo shakes his head. So that might also be something worth asking their Brontian friends. Meanwhile Wyona also asks a couple of questions, but overall the two Brontians have scarcely any information that gets you anywhere. They can't point out anyone that would have a specific grudge against them. Sure, they at times rubbed one of their regimental buddies the wrong way, but it seems those things get settled internally pretty soon and they think it to be pretty unlikely for a Brontian to go to these length to settle a grudge. In general there seems to be not a lot of friendship between the Brontian as a whole regiment and the new arrivals from St. Paulus, Krieg, Thoth and Simonds world [Sorry, I forgot the name], but that goes more in the opposite direction, as some Brontians are a bit sour about their reinforcements late arrival and that they get the same credit as the Brontians who held the line together with Skrynnes PDF for so long. So again: not very likely that someone would have set them up just out of regimental rivalry.

Regarding the holes in their memory: if they indeed tell the truth and not only cover up for themselves, those sound fishy as heck. It seems that from around an hour before the break in into the medicae building they are completely blacked out, up until waking up in the holding cell. Also if you can believe them, they had no intention or plan on breaking in up until that time and the scenario described in the report doesn't really sound like a spontanous idea as the murderers of that orderly knew exactly which door to open and where to go to get those meds.

Njal
"I'm listening, Njal. Anything useful on your end?" which also might imply, that Poncho and the sarge did not have much luck on their end.

" Affirmative Sarge. I got something, but it is probably best if we talk about goggles-to-goggles. If you can, can we meet-up near the water purification plants?"

Njal also wouldn't mind a bit of back-up. After all, they were hunting down someone who would not hesitate to kill to cover their tracks.

Instinctively, his hands checked his las-pistol and his Brontian Knife. He was re-assured that they were both exactly where they needed to be.

Simond decides to keep his suspicions to himself till the group can get together. He feels no need to make contact or tell Teodore his thoughts until the group could get together. In his experience it was better to get as many pieces as possible before you could start putting the picture together.

Teodore looks puzzled. "Something isn't right about all this." He looks around. "Let's get back to the rally point and see what the others found out."

By happenstance, Poncho also decides to regroup with the others, the names of the other Brontians in mind, and in writting, just to be on the safe side.

''I gathered some things, I think we should meet up'' He does use the comm-bead to ensure the others would be there, at least.

Simond gives a curt nod, the examinaiton complete there was no more reason to hang around here. His head down cast to where the medicae's body was discovered he scans around for the nearness of the orderlies legs before he replies.
'Yes, let us.'

As Njal proposed to meet up near the water purification plant and no one else mentioned another meeting point, you meet up near that facility. It is a pretty impressive collection of large pond-like water bassins connected by countless large tubes. Mysterious machinery pumps, swirls, filtrates, ionizes, desalts and pasteurizes the waste water coming from the baracks to turn into... something more or less drinkable. But all of you have noticed the metallic notes in the water coming from the faucets. Anyway, at least it's not green, muddy or moving around so when it comes to that, the Munitorum provides for its charges. The whole facility is circled by a 3 meter high wire mesh fence, with two big gates, that are guarded by some security personell. If you want to enter "officially" you come up with some explanation why some lowly guardsmen want to sniff around in there, but climbing over the fence is also not that difficult to do. If you choose that way and get confronted, you might have some explaining to do though.

After a while your whole squad (minus the two Brontians of course) is back together and you can exchange your findings.

Simond nods his greeing to the sergeant and the others.
He glances around disappointed that there is nothing much to drink but his own supply from his flask, and nowhere inviting to sit.
'This isn't the bar.'
He gives a less subtle look around at their surroundings.
'The guards at least are a good touch. We aren't completely secluded but private enough. Or are we onto someone?'

"Maybe? However busted into the medicae through the electronic lock used the identity of a Munitorium Clerk from this water plant. Goes by the name of Juan Perez." Njal vaguely nodded in the direction of the water plant.

He pulled a slightly stained cloth out of his pocket and ran it across his sweaty brow. Why didn't he ask to meet-up someplace inside?

"I don't know but it looks like our friends were set up." He shares what he found out about the odd lack of DNA on the keyboard.

"But it's not like I got a lead as to what to do with it. What did you all find out?"

Tambo nods and seems a bit... indecicive sharing what he knows. Checking that their combeads are off at least for now he mutters "uhmm... I heard around a bit here and there if SOMEONE recently got his hands on some of the medical stuff that disappeared. Just thinking as they didn't find all of the stuff that got lost I though maybe whoever took it and framed Malakai and Adamo already tried to make his cut. But so far that's been a dead end. Might mean whoever we are looking for has stashed it away for later, or maybe the whole theft is just a distraction for something else..." he shrugs. "That Perez guy definitly sounds like someone we should have a chat with, at least one of us."

Wyona chips in, interested in what Teodore had to say "Sounds like someone was using that cogitator... and maybe even the codes of that dead medicae staffer. Any idea what for?"

Simond bit his lip, it seemed like time to spill the beans. 'The medicae did not struggle, he did not try to resist his attackers with living breath. He knew them. Or they were of authority. Either way he did not believe they would kill him.'
He thought for a few moments. He chewed his lip again.
'Unless they threatened to shoot him with a gonne or a laser to make him compliant. But someone went to an effort to make it look like a struggle.'

Teodore runs through some of the nefarious things that someone could do with access to that cogitation terminal. (As Pyroalchi notes).

"The question is though, how do we figure out who had access to that terminal the night of the murder?"

Njal scratched his beard, "Seems pretty clear that something more than what the black hats are willing to admit to is going on.

Let's watch for this Perez guy, follow him until we find some dark alley, and then shake him down and see if we can crack his ice."

Njal flashed a big grin, "Like old, old times eh Tambo!"

''There's the manner of the troopers that drank with those accused, too, perhaps they have seen things, should be split to talk to them?''

Poncho added, after listening to what everyone else had to bring to the table.

Tambo chuckles regarding Njalls comment but chips in "Do you know how the guy looks? Or do we only have a name?"

Wyona on the other hand comments on Njal implying there is more goin on than the black hats admit: "I'm not so sure this really went by the black hats. On first sight this all looked so clear, that I would guess the local peacekeepers were the only ones looking at the scene and they just dropped the finished report on some Commissars desk. At least that's what I hope, 'cause then they might be open to new intel. Especially if we uncover something bigger brewing here."

Teodors thoughts are seconded by M'Gele "Or, if they really did get this poor Medicae access codes, what the poor buggers account has been doing the night he died. Sounds like something a blackhat might have the creds to find out, but do we really want to deal with those now?"

Teodore nods to Mc'Gele. "Our friends risked their lives for us back at the refinery, we owe it to them to do the same. I'm willing to take our case to Commissar Cole. But only if we're ready. If there is anything else we can plausibly do to investigate this thing, than I say we do that first. Up to you all."

"Agreed. Cole is our best bet, but we aren't ready for that,"

Njal turned to Tambo "No, I couldn't pick this guy out from any other snowflake in a blizzard."

Simond dredges through his memory for the name. Could it be someone he met in the camp bar or when he was in the clinic getting treated for his injuries from the previous mission?
After a long few moments of quiet thoughtfulness he confidently replies. 'Never heard of him before this all. Perhaps we could make some inquires. Could make up a pretense and ask around a bit.'

Wyona looks at the facility again "Hmm.. best ideas I have is to go to the guards at the entrance, say "we were send to fetch Perez" and play loyal, dump soldier afterwards. You know "Don't know, didn't ask. We are just here to come get him" whenever they ask anything. Maybe we get lucky and they are to bored to inquire what we want from him.
Or we look around for someone on his smoking break and tell him, we are 'friends' of Perez and have some urgent business with him and he should meet us at the fence. If he really is our guy, he might come out thinking his fellows have to tell him something and come out. But he might as well be warned this way."

The lot of you think some more, until Tambo chips in "Maybe Teodore can come up and say he is a medicae and there is some infection spreading and that he MUST see Perez immediatly, as he had contact. But that it is very important to keep this low so that no panic spreads. The guards might buy this and Teodore could look for Perez without alarming him. Hell, we might even get away with taking him with us without anybody asking too many questions."

Teodore nods to Tambo's idea. "I like that idea. Maybe one of you can come with me though, maybe pose as an assistant or something."

"Simond is the best man to go with you Teodore. He can handle things if Perez gets cold feet and tries to drip."

Teodore nods: "So what's the plan, lure him out to a quiet place and have a friendly chat with him, or just confront him on the spot with what we have and hope he squeals?"

Simond gives the sergeant a smile. 'Right Teo, the kind of infection that a man wants to keep quiet, the kind that a man would urgently get treated.' He gives the medicae a sly smile.

'And if he decides to cut and run I'll get Balwin around the corner with the mounts, if he manges to get that far.'

"Probably lure him out to someplace private, anywhere really, and then turn up the heat.

I like where you are thinking Simond."

''In the experience of this tro... from what I experienced with the Catachans, we best do it out of sight, yes. As for the infection, this might cause further panic if we are caught, it may not be wise to start something that may spiral out of control if someone is at the wrong place at the wrong time''

Teodore nods to the mysterious Kreigsman. "Right, so I'll be reporting that Simond has contracted a rare disease that could be linked to a water parasite, and that more people could be at risk if he doesn't follow me immediately to the water treatment plant. That will definitely get his attention. At the very least he'll want to cover it up so he doesn't get in trouble. Then we'll lead him into a trap, and if he gets suspicious, Simond will mysteriously recover from his brain disease and restrain him."

Njal nodded along, "Sounds like you got it.

The rest of us will mill around out here. Maybe Tambo and I can get a game of Emperor's Grace going as cover? Anyone got any dice?

Use the comm-bead if you need some help. Not sure what exactly we can do though."

The plan sounds good enough and after settling for a quite spot outside of the fence around the corner of some buildings outside of the guards sight, Teodore and Simond start their way towards the guardhouse. The others disperse, with Njal, Tambo, Poncho, M'gele and Erc sitting down at the meeting point for a game of dice, while Wyona and Balwin go around to wait near the back of the facility, should Perez try to leg it.

While Teodore was thinking through what to say really hard, the two sentries at the gatehouse first and foremost look bored out of their mind and don't bother too much with both of you. Teodore has rarely started with his tale of some kind of disease as they already wave him through "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get the guy and fix him up. Can't have that stuff in our water supply." before turning their attention again to a small screen with some kind of telenovela on it.
That was... surprisingly easy.

Once inside you find yourself in between a confusing arrangement of pipes, barrels, drums and containers, with water and other fluids slushing and washing around in large basins, being filtered and cleared into a not really clean, but at least drinkable state. A couple of short inquiries lead you towards Perez working place, a bureaucontainer on stilts 8 feet above the ground supervising a set of four of these pools through a wall of windows. Through the glass you can see a slender middle aged man with combed over hair brooding over paperwork at his desk, that might be your man. A steel gangway leads up to the container, which is currently occupied by at least another woman that came into view a couple of times.

 Pyroalchi wrote:
The plan sounds good enough and after settling for a quite spot outside of the fence around the corner of some buildings outside of the guards sight, Teodore and Simond start their way towards the guardhouse. The others disperse, with Njal, Tambo, Poncho, M'gele and Erc sitting down at the meeting point for a game of dice, while Wyona and Balwin go around to wait near the back of the facility, should Perez try to leg it.

While Teodore was thinking through what to say really hard, the two sentries at the gatehouse first and foremost look bored out of their mind and don't bother too much with both of you. Teodore has rarely started with his tale of some kind of disease as they already wave him through "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get the guy and fix him up. Can't have that stuff in our water supply." before turning their attention again to a small screen with some kind of telenovela on it.
That was... surprisingly easy.

Once inside you find yourself in between a confusing arrangement of pipes, barrels, drums and containers, with water and other fluids slushing and washing around in large basins, being filtered and cleared into a not really clean, but at least drinkable state. A couple of short inquiries lead you towards Perez working place, a bureaucontainer on stilts 8 feet above the ground supervising a set of four of these pools through a wall of windows. Through the glass you can see a slender middle aged man with combed over hair brooding over paperwork at his desk, that might be your man. A steel gangway leads up to the container, which is currently occupied by at least another woman that came into view a couple of times.

Teodore approaches the man, leading Simond by the arm.

"Excuse, I need to speak with a Mr. Perez. Are you him? You see this man, I have here? He is suffering from some kind of neurotoxin. And worse still, I 've encountered five similar patients in the last five days. Now my superiors were concerned that these patients contracted the illness from the water supply, but I assured them that this could be ruled out once the water treatment adepts turn over the latest water samples. Surely that will rule out water borne illness. At least that's what I told them."

"And you would be the person to get us those samples by coming with me right now to the water treatment plant right? So that way, this preposterous theory blaming you for a water contamination issue doesn't ever make it into an official report right?"

"Sorry to be blunt here. But I really don't want these accusations to go into any official reporting. The sooner I can put them to rest the better off we both will be."

Simmond tries to supress his surprise . At the first mention that he is a patient he stoops a bit more, then after some extra thought he lets some spit dribble from the corner of his mouth the way it does on the old or infirm.

[Nicely described, you two]

Upon entering the control room, you are received with a questioning look from a female clerk in her late forties doing some filing work on a large file cabinet, while the man you saw from below turns around on his desk chair. A name tag on his chest already spells "Perez", so this might be your guy. He doesn't look as if he would recognize you, so he does not seem to know of your pictscreen appearances. And if he was really involved directly into framing Malakai and Adamo, he doesn't seem to make the connection to you two - so far so good.

As Teodore tells his story, you see his face change from disbelief over a confrontative but unspoken "are you implying I did something wrong?" into something with a fair bit of panick sprinkled in, as he realizes he might be in a fair bit of trouble if his negligence caused some officer to fall ill. Teodores implication that the whole business might be kept on the low therefore meets with quite some gratitude and Perez gets up from his chair "of course, of course. Lets get down there and collect what you need. I can also show you the report cards, we have them all filed away, I guarantee it! Everything complete and in order!" The generell impression is one of a person with an almost fanatical adherence to proper filing, not really of someone able to commit a coldblooded murder. You do notice though, that he has his accesscard in a plastic-sheet buttoned to his chest, so it seems rather unlikely that someone would have been able to use it without him noticing.

As he passes Teodore to get to the door, he keeps as much distance as possible to the drooling Simond muttering to Teodore "Is it contagious? Throne I hope not..."
He would lead you down towards the insane connection of pipes and barrels towards a couple of valves from which water samples can be drawn. So far so good, but you still need an explanation why he should get outside of the compound if you want the help of the others questioning Perez.


___________________________


Outside at the dice game, Tambo thinks out loud: "When they bring our guy, I would propose we play some 'good cop, bad cop'. Poncho, your people are known for their uncompromising loyalty to the imperial cause. So you just... play yourself. Threaten him that you will haul him to the next blackhat dead or alive or that you will summary execute him on the spot for his treason. Njal, I think you make a convincing good cop. Show him some sympathy and tell him you are willing to let him go. M'Gele, Erc and me stand back a bit and see which approach works better. If we need more heat we put some more pressure on Ponchos side, if he needs a way out we let it look as if we are corrupt enough to let him leave, if he sells us his cronies."

Njal nods, "Good plan Tambo. But in the meantime..... I think I just rolled up the Emperor's Grace! Look at that boys. I might be in Throne's Grace today!" The Saint Paulian clapped his hands with unusual glee.

 Pyroalchi wrote:
[Nicely described, you two]

Upon entering the control room, you are received with a questioning look from a female clerk in her late forties doing some filing work on a large file cabinet, while the man you saw from below turns around on his desk chair. A name tag on his chest already spells "Perez", so this might be your guy. He doesn't look as if he would recognize you, so he does not seem to know of your pictscreen appearances. And if he was really involved directly into framing Malakai and Adamo, he doesn't seem to make the connection to you two - so far so good.

As Teodore tells his story, you see his face change from disbelief over a confrontative but unspoken "are you implying I did something wrong?" into something with a fair bit of panick sprinkled in, as he realizes he might be in a fair bit of trouble if his negligence caused some officer to fall ill. Teodores implication that the whole business might be kept on the low therefore meets with quite some gratitude and Perez gets up from his chair "of course, of course. Lets get down there and collect what you need. I can also show you the report cards, we have them all filed away, I guarantee it! Everything complete and in order!" The generell impression is one of a person with an almost fanatical adherence to proper filing, not really of someone able to commit a coldblooded murder. You do notice though, that he has his accesscard in a plastic-sheet buttoned to his chest, so it seems rather unlikely that someone would have been able to use it without him noticing.

As he passes Teodore to get to the door, he keeps as much distance as possible to the drooling Simond muttering to Teodore "Is it contagious? Throne I hope not..."
He would lead you down towards the insane connection of pipes and barrels towards a couple of valves from which water samples can be drawn. So far so good, but you still need an explanation why he should get outside of the compound if you want the help of the others questioning Perez.

"It's not contagious, but it IS a water borne illness. It's not likely that it came from the water supply. More likely that it was contracted while they were in the field, but we have to be sure."

After accepting the water samples, he pauses.

"I'll tell you what. Since you've been so helpful, I'd like to repay the favor. I can get a preliminary test done on the samples in an hour. In three hours I'll need to turn my report in. So how about we meet up at the [Bar where they all hang] in about an hour and a half? That way I can give you a little advance notice if this is an issue, maybe give you a little extra time to deal with any potential fall out if the test comes back positive?

Perez still seems rather stressed regardless of Teodores nice demeanor and nods eagerly "I'll be there, you can count on it!" before he hurries back to his control room. You get the feeling that he is pretty spooked, but that is not surprising in light of the trouble he might be in.


Counting that as a success, the two Guardsmen finish their special mission and return to their fellows to plan the next steps.

(Anything special planned or do you just wait for Perez to met you at the bar?)

About half way to the med center Teodore turns to Simond. "Alright you know what the guy looks like so just head there and let the rest of the lads know he's coming. I'll continue on to the Medical Center to run these "tests." After the lads interrogate the guy we can all meet back up at the barracks.

[Teodore is going to let the rest of the crew do the interrogation to put some distance between himself and the shakedown, just in case anyone is following them or otherwise spying]

Simond returns to the group and fills them in on the meeting.

Njal nodded. Easy as plucking fish out of the ice.

"How do we want to play this? It is possible this guy wasn't involved at all, just had is ID ripped, or he could be in neck deep.

Perhaps the Sarge should stay out of this, and let Tambo, Simond, Poncho, and I do the dirty work?"

"Sounds good to me..." Tambo answers, while Wyona looks rather contemplative "I don't really want to stay on the sidelines on this... but you might be right, Njal. Squeeze him a little bit, but don't get to far. If he is innocent, we might get into some serious trouble."

Tambo on the other hand suggests "I could see if the innkeep of the bar is open to some... gifts. Your know as compensation for giving us some privacy with Perez. We wouldn't want everybody and their mother talking about it tomorrow.
Any other ideas before we start?"

Simond scratches his chin. 'If he is suspicious once he sees me he will bolt. Maybe I should stay back, and stop him from reaching the door if he wants to try to run.'

''Well I was never really trained in dirty work'' The Kriegsman seems hesitant, the fact near-normal human interaction is somewhat of an alien concept for him, even with the time spent with the possibly less unhinged Catachans, probably explains it

''I will help my comrades, however, you can count on this trooper''

Njal laughed, "All you have to do is be yourself, that will do the job nicely Poncho."
He slapped the Krieger on the back good-naturedly.

Some time passes until finally, as the hour mentioned by Teodore, Perez appears at the door of the tavern. Besides your lot there are not many guests around, a pair of workers in heavy overalls had entered shortly before and are drinking silently at one of the tables and an off duty guardswomen is gambling away some of her credit slips on a slot machine. The innkeep had pointed you towards the hindwall of the bar, where there are some alcoves for you to talk a bit more privately and has turned the volume of the music from the speakers in the front half of the room a bit louder. Of course if you start screaming, the other guests will notice it, but they should not hear the details of a normal discussion.

Perez looks very tense, even a bit agitated. The whole business with the water seems to have really gotten on his nerves. He approaches the desk with Teodore who sits alone in one of the alcoves, while the rest of the "interrogation team" is rolling some dice and chatting in one of the others to not immediatly scare him off. Through your combead Wyona wispers "There's a group of four that arrived shortly after Perez and are smoking LHO sticks in a corner outside... Just that you know..."

'Do they look like they could be armed?' Simond asked in a carefully measure tone. 'If not, then they are probably not here for us.'

 Pyroalchi wrote:
Some time passes until finally, as the hour mentioned by Teodore, Perez appears at the door of the tavern. Besides your lot there are not many guests around, a pair of workers in heavy overalls had entered shortly before and are drinking silently at one of the tables and an off duty guardswomen is gambling away some of her credit slips on a slot machine. The innkeep had pointed you towards the hindwall of the bar, where there are some alcoves for you to talk a bit more privately and has turned the volume of the music from the speakers in the front half of the room a bit louder. Of course if you start screaming, the other guests will notice it, but they should not hear the details of a normal discussion.

Perez looks very tense, even a bit agitated. The whole business with the water seems to have really gotten on his nerves. He approaches the desk with Teodore who sits alone in one of the alcoves, while the rest of the "interrogation team" is rolling some dice and chatting in one of the others to not immediatly scare him off. Through your combead Wyona wispers "There's a group of four that arrived shortly after Perez and are smoking LHO sticks in a corner outside... Just that you know..."

Teodore speaks quietly but gestures for Njal to approach as he does so. "Thanks for meeting me here. In case you hadn't figured it out already, you actually have bigger problems than the water supply. Now in one moment, I'm going to stand up and go to the bar to get a drink. While I am doing that, my friend here is going to step in and ask you a few questions. It's really important that you answer the questions honestly, he's not the sort of man you want to cross."

Teodore gets up and hands off the conversation to Njal.

Njal grabbed two drinks and sauntered over to Perez. He easily settled himself in and slid the drink over to the man, then took a sip. He let the silence sit for a moment, the confused look to fill the man's face.

Just before he lost his ice, Njal spoke softly, "By being here, I know that you want to avoid any trouble with the Black Hats. I think we all do. But I got myself a bit of an issue. I hope you can help me out.

You see, I was doing some work on a busted lock at the med-bay. I guess there had been some bad business there and the Black Hats had gotten' involved. The kind of thing a Emperor-fearing type would not want to be associated with.

The problem for you is, the machine-spirit couldn't stop telling me about your Ident. I could just make my life easier and turn this all over to the proper channels, but.... we all know how that would turn out. I wanted to give you chance, to come clean, avoid those unpleasant complications.

I think you are the type of loyal citizen that would want to unburden themselves. My friend from Krieg doesn't think we should waste the time, but I am a more.... forgiving.... sort than that.

Help yourself out and prove me right.

With that, he offers Perez a Lho stick.

Responding to Simonds question if the men outside could be armed, Wyona responds "We are in an imperial base under constant ork attack... of course they are armed."



Inside the bar, Perez visually squirms as Njall confronts him and as soon as he gets a peek on Poncho a small, ratlike squeak exits his throat. He takes the LHO stick with shaking hands and fumbles with the lighter. He is obviously afraid, but you get the diffuse feeling his fear is more focussed on the immediate future instead of the more intermediate. He puts his right hand on a spot on his colar and wispers "Shut up! They'll hear you!" as his panicked gaze races over to the door.

From outside Wyona mutters "ohh frakk... there's another two of them that just started to go around for the back exit. And the four in front look like they are in for trouble... You'll get company any moment now..."

Simond sighs and rubs his sweaty forehead as he inwardly curses the planet's climate, the aircondition could barely keep up with the press of bodies at the best of times. 'They are looking for trouble then.' He felt excitement starting to fill his blood.

He subtly loosens his knife in it's sheath, and then with the other hand slightly less subtly loosens the chainsword in it's sheath making sure that he is screened by his dice companion and the table as he does so.
'We're getting drinks.' He stands up and gives Balwin a motion to get moving before he turns and starts to push his way to the bar.
'Be prepared to follow me, and for the emperor's sake, take that hand off that knife hilt.'
He reaches the bar.

He asks and pays for a bottle of beer.
'I'm ready to start disarming if needs be boss.' He says sipping his beer holding the cap in the palm of his left hand.
The bottles were very useful. You were supposed to return them, but it was much better to take them to the Askari camp and get them filled up with something a little more potent.

Njal unsnaps the holster of his las-pistol.


He slowly stands up, and offers Perez a light for his Lho Stick.

In a harsh whisper the ice-worlder says, "Then, melt and tell me what's going on. Clocks ticking."

With the voices of his squadmates ringing in the small device in his ear, Poncho also reaches out for his laspistol, having opted for the less powerful, but easier-to-carry-at-the-bar weapon, safety was off and the holster was opened, as he reached for a sip of that fresh-ish water offered there.

His mask betrayed no emotion from the Kriegsman as he looked around the room once more, scanning for more potential troubles.

As the four newcomers enter - 3 men and a women - the two workers in their overalls turn around and give them a recognizing look. At least Simonds first impression is, that they know each other and the workers make no move to leave the bar. The Guardswomen in the back at the slot machine on the other hand seems deeply sunken into her game and doesn't take notice of them at all. The Barkeep it nowhere to be seen, but as he positions himself at the counter to order something, he believes he heard the notion of a "thud" behind the door to the kitchen, followed by a noise that might be a dropping body that was barely caught before going to the ground to not make a lot of noise.

One of the 3 men is a bit older and has a burn scar on the left side of his head that also took half his ear, the rest looking like melted. He seems to be in charge from the body language of the group. The women and one of the other men are of stocky and short build, with brokkoli ears that indicate some experience in wrestling or boxing, but something in their visage implies they are not the brightest lights on the candle. Their similar haircolor and appaerance makes them look like siblings. The last man is a good 6 feet tall, slender, but well muskeled and even Simond had to aknowledge: quite pretty. Definetly someone who might flirt with a lady or one or the other gentleman to get what he wants and who is quite good at that.
Each of them has a pistol holster at the hip, the "pretty boy" has two. The older, boss type has a chainsword at his other hip, while the siblings carry shock mauls.

The two workers are local folk you would guess, at least they look a lot like Teodore and the other Skrynnians you saw so far. They look strong like workers, but Simonds experiences look tells him they are not experienced fighters. They have their toolboxes with them and each of them has a heavy wrench beside him.

All in all not the best odds to start a brawl, but as long as they don't get a jump on your lot, your chances are not abysmal.



The older guy scans the room for the moment, before approaching Balwin Simond and "accidently" pushing over a bottle of sticky sirup at the counter, that drops and splashes his rider boots with their content. As Simond looks up, the old Geezer looks confrontative "Got a problem there chap?! I don't like your kind, you know? All stuck up, like some noble folk. Bet you aren't that big when you're not on your little horsies..."
[He tries to provoke Simond to "go outside"]



Meanwhile Tambo and M'Gele have silently gotten up, hurried across the second half room, to get into the blind spot directly around the corner from the counter at the kitchen wall. So if push comes to shove, they will be some yards nearer to Simond to assist or might get the jump on someone getting into the second room to get at Njal and Perez. They have their hands at their slightly curved swords.

Simond takes a sip at his beer and smiles back up at the old man. 'Why don't you run along codger. I'll give you this chance; there is no glory in breaking brittle old bones.'

The old man laughs and spits out on the floor, half hitting Simonds riding boots. "Try me, princess! Lets see who'll collect his teeth in the gutter." while he says that, one of his friends already opens the door, to "escort" you outside. The workers in their overal don't make any move to follow, so it would be "just" Simond, Balwin and the four newcomers, should he follow them outside. Plus Wyona, who was waiting outside and who your sparring partners should not have seen coming in.


Over at Njalls table, Perez has beads of sweat on his brow and whispers "... I thought they were just making some credits on the side, a little bit of black marketing to help the locals. I chipped in once, no big deal, but they kept coming back and wanting more... And when I wanted out they..." Njall can easily guess the rest, but he is not completely sure, if Perez tells the thruth or if he snitches on his buddies to get a lighter sentence, now that the cat is out of the bag.

Njal nodded, "I have seen it happen to plenty of good troopers. No need to be ashamed.

The only way out now, is to tell me how I can find them."

The Ice-worlder tried to look as paternal as he could muster.

He imagined what his dad would have said, but then figured that was the wrong approach. His dad would of cuffed him and sent him to go tweak the arrays out in the cold as punishment. His dad was more like a boiler, all pent up until it exploded. Probably best not to mimic him.

Simond lets his lips twist upwards at the ends. 'Outside?'
He screws the lid back onto the beer bottle.
In the next moment, the lid on tight, he had his hand around the neck of the bottle in a reverse grip like it was a dagger.
He lunged forwards and slammed the base of the bottle into the man's teeth he raised his hand back and smashed the bottle into the other man's teeth again. He didn't really hold back. If the base of the bottle broke off it'd still serve it's purpose. It might serve it's purpose even better. His blood was a mixture of furious anger and spiteful satisfaction.
As he did so she shouted to his companion, 'Balwin! WATCH MY BACK!'


Balwin should be able to hold the other two off for long enough for him to deal with this, he set about ruining the older man's face. He had warned the idiot.

Desk with Perez, Poncho, Njal and Erc

Perez looks back and forth between Njal and Poncho, being especially intimidated by the Kriegers gasmask - his regiment does have a reputation - and seems to decide to rather try his luck with the new bunch instead of his old coconspirators. He still seems on the brink of panicking and by now Njal is pretty sure that this is not just a guise. He seems indeed to be just some random little clerk, that had the bad luck to get in contact with the completely wrong people at the wrong place and time.
"I met two workers at a smoke break behind the water purifier. We got talking about how much the locals struggle and they asked if I wanted to help. So I did... They found out where I live and since then they come by when they need something..." So he himself does not seem to know where to find them, but the workers (potentially the two sitting in the inn with you) might be a lead.

Your talk is cut short, as you hear the tell tale sounds of a beginning brawl near the bar, and the sound of breaking glass.

Near the bar - Simond, Balwin, 4 Attackers (lets call them Al, Ben, Chris and Dean)

Even though his for opponents were prepared to fight, the fury and speed of Simonds attack seemed to have taken them completely on the wrong foot. While his first hit with the glasbottle only glanced the jaw of the Al, the older guy, it is enough to distract him and let his counterpunch go wide enough, that the cavalryman can easily dodge him. His buddies Ben and Chris immediatly spring forward to grapple Simond and hold subdue him, but Balwin is on his toes, rams his shoulder into one of them and punches the other away, giving Simond space to breathe. Just as Simonds backhand brings the bottle back around, this time breaking it and two of Al's front teeth in the process, Dean, the last of the quad does smash a fist into the side of his head. For an unarmed hit, he really got him good, but Simond is experienced enough of a melee fighter to fight through the pain and stay alert.
So far he is selling himself good, but two against four does not look to bright, especially if more could follow.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see both of the workers in their overals stand up and grap their wrenches, but also Tambo and M'Gele coming around the corner, trying to get behind dean fast and without him noticing.



Mid of the inn - Tambo, M'Gele, the unknown guardswoman

As the brawl starts, the Guardswoman at the slotmachine turns around confused and tries to get a grip on the situation. Immediatly she ducks into cover and you have the impression, that she is indeed just a bystander. The two Askaris step forward to try and close the distance and come to Simonds help, while trying to keep silent enough to get the jump on at least one of them. But just as they almost reached Deans back, the two workers shout "DEAN! BEHIND YOU!". The called turns around just in time to face the Askaris. Tambo wasn't yet sure, if it was wise to raise the stakes, but as Simond seems to be in all out fighting mode, he draws a curved, sabre like blade and slashes out in a lighting fast, crescent like motion. Dean screams out, as the blade cuts bonedeep into the flesh of his upper thigh as blood sprays everywhere and he goes down, trying to stop the bleeding with both hands and not go into shock.
Everyone involved seems to take a deep breath and hesitate a moment, realizing that this has gone beyond fists now, as Als hand goes towards his chainsword and the others start drawing their weapons too.

"Is this something you are willing to die over!" he shouts to the new adversaries, "Because if we don't kill you, the Black Hats will. Give up now, and they don't need to get involved." He punctuates his words by drawing his las-pistol.

He nods to Erc, who grabs Perez and pushes him down to avoid the oncoming fight.

The bottle broke in a spray of beer and glass. And he dropped it, moving his hand down towards the hilt of the chainsword. It'd pay to make some room about himself, even if these fools couldn't throw a punch worth a damn.

The idiot was reaching for his chainsword. Bad business that, could have settled with losing a few teeth, but the fool was asking for more. Simond charged into the idiot man with his shoulder trying to push him back, make him stumble, unable to get that sword out. His left hand was down by his knife as it was, and he had it out of his sheath and was cutting at the grip of the other man's sword in the next instant. It didn't mater if he cut the man's stomach open, sliced his fingers off or carved into his forearm, all would serve equally well.

[Still first turn]

As Njall challenges the attackers to give up or face the blackhats, he catches a glimpse of the guardswomen who has ducked for some cover between the slotmachines and is holding a Lascarbinel at her side. She seems out of her water, but hellbend on defending herself. Your best guess is to rather not approach her, because she doesn't know who is on her side, so when in doubt she WILL shoot.
The group - and by now you are pretty sure the workers and the four guys that had surrounded Simond are a group - ignore Njalls offer, which might mean they are either really really dumb or know full well that their lives are forfeith if Perez or any witness of him get out of here alive. At least that would be the only reason for Njall if he was in their place to risk something as dumb as they are trying to pull of here.

Poncho springs up from his table and draws his laspistol, hurrying over to the corner where Tambo and M'Gele had just started to run into melee to get off a shot. Out of the sprint he doesn't really have time for a good aimed shot, so he just takes in the scenery and goes for the best armed person he sees that is not entangled in melee which is the guy drawing the two pistols. He leaves the setting on normal for now, but his expertise with this kind of weapon lets him anticipate Deans dodging motion, hitting him in the right shoulder, just as he raises his two weapons on Tambo.


[Second Turn]
And that is just the kind of distraction that saves the Askari for now, as Dean screams out in agony and sinks his own to lasbolts into the backwall, as his uniform sleeve is set ablaze and flesh and bone fuze to some ugly charcoaly mess. Overwhelmed by pain and shock he goes down, unable to do

Simond lashes out with his knife, aiming for Als hand before he can draw his chainsword, but the old man is quicker on his feet than he looks and backs away just in time, drawing his chainblade. The brutal weapon speeds up on a pust of its lever and the cavalryman has to get all his wits together to stay out of its reach. The good news - if one is willing to call it that way - is that the two workers with the heavy wrenches decide to rather try their luck with Tambo and M'Gele instead of getting into Simonds and Als close combat.


The two big dudes that had just tried to grapple Simond a moment before and hold him for Al try again, but Simond is indeed a slippery one and his training with Balwin pays of nicely. The two of them float like butterflies as they maneuver between the three of them, dodging the chainsword, pushing away grabbing hands, jumping over legs and kicks and evading shoves and punches. For now they remain unharmed, but the center of a lot more attention than they can feel comfortable with.

Both workers mentioned before take a swing at Tambo, trying to bring him down, but their heavy weapons move to slowly, letting him evade them without even the need to parry. The Askari Answers in kind, hitting one of the two with the heavy hilt of his blade to knock him out and indeed the left one tumbles back, bleeding from a wound on his temple and seeming rather disoriented for the moment.


Now the door to the kitchen bursts open and another two combatants enter the fray, two women in standard guarduniforms wielding lasguns that immediatily and professionally duck behind the counter taking in the situation and preparing to add to the fray. By sheer luck they haven't noticed Poncho around the corner yet.

Njal sees everything is going south and draws his Las-pistol and flips the table over to give him Erc, and Perez some cover.

"What a snowstorm," he grumbles as he gets into cover.

Erc covers the worker with his body as best he can and draws his Brontian Toothpick in case anyone gets too close.

Simond had his chainsword clear of it's sheath. His opponent had leaped back to avoid the knife strike, space permitted as none of the bystanders wished to be maimed by a swinging chainsword. There was space around the pair of them to fight properly. He smiled at his opponent the thrill of the contest thrumming through his veins like hot fire.

He didn't hesitate. Simmond lunged forwards and delivered a downward cut at his enemy, and turned his elbow outwards to quickly deliver an upwards cut.

There wasn't a lot of subtly in a fight like this, the difference between a strike and a parry was whether the cutting edge was striking steel or meat.

[Finally got caught up!]

Teodore motions to Njal and Perez. "Come on, it's hitting the fan, we got to get him out of here quick!"

He keeps a hand on his auto pistol just in case as he looks toward the front entrance.

Just as Simond and Al are about to go at it with their chainswords, Ben, one of the guys that tried to grapple Simond raises a laspistol to shoot him in the back like a coward. The shot would be at point blank range, almost impossible to miss, but just as he is about to pull the trigger, Balwin bullrushes him, kicking off his aim. The lasbolt burns some locks of Simonds hair before burning into the wall, as Ben and Balwin wrestle for the weapon.

Meanwhile the two duellants give each other no quarter, exchanging blows and parries with their brutal, revving weapons. Simonds downward cut is met and deflected by Als Blade, who replies with a lunge towards Simonds torso. But the cavalryman sidesteps elegantly, using the opening in Als defence for an upward cut that would have almost missed him, would the attacker not have sidestepped just that moment. The blade slashes his thigh open and raises a painful cry from Simonds opponent, who looks pretty bad. But Simond is an experienced enough fighter to know that this wasn't over yet.


Over in the second half of the melée, both the workers try to swarm Tambo and M'Gele, who slashes the first one with his sword, without fatally wounding him and somehow manages to still keep them at bay by deflecting the heavy wrench of the other one. The two Askaris do look a lot less competent then Simond though and have their hands full with the workers. This fight is far from decided yet, especially as Dean, the first guy Tambo had cut down seems to have overcome his initial shock and aims his laspistol at him, missing only by a hairs width.


As they failed to initially notice him, Poncho gets the jump on Gabby and Holly, who were just about to line up shots on Simond and Balwin and decides to finish one of them, pushing the setting of his laspistol to the maximum and letting lose a salvo on point blank range. The little laspistol - so often underestimated - spits to bolts of deadly light that burn right through her flak armor into her torso, even setting some of her uniform ablaze. The soldiers eyes break and she is dead before her body even hits the ground. Her comrade swings around in panic, opening up in full auto on Poncho who has half cover though. And indeed the Kriegsman manages to duck behind the counter just in time for her to miss. His opponent seems to get herself under control though and the wild firing stops. Standing just around the corner, Poncho knows that she will be prepared next time he glances around it to shoot and on that short distance, an aimed shot with a lasgun will almost definitly hit.


Njall, Teodore and Perez couldn't see the attacker that just shot at Poncho, but the hail of lasbolts that just started flying and forced the Kriegsman into cover go all over the place, destroying the interior. Good thing that Njall had the awareness to turn their table into cover which protects them well from those stray rounds. While the fight is far from decided, your comrades do a good job so far in keeping it away from your witness.

Aware that the second Laswoman behind the counter would defenitly be ready for him, Poncho still pushes on, forcing the decision in a shootout. He readies his laspistol and drops around the corner, hoping for a quick, decisive shot while weathering an expected hail of lasbolts coming his way. His eyes - or rather the gasmasks vision glasses - meet those of the women covering behind, her lasgun raised and he can see a grim determination in her eyes that he knows all too well. She was willing to die fighting in a way that implied whatever it was, that these guys were trying to achieve, it was of utmost importance to them.
You loose your shots in the very same moment and a salvo of three Lasbolts pepper the Kriegsman. The emperor works in miraculous ways though, as the first bolt slams through ponchos greatcoat just between his arm and torso only slightly burning the top of his skin. The second glaces his gasmask leaving a burnmark on the respirator while the third plinks of his shoulder plate. Ponchos salvo on the other hand strikes true, hitting her left arm and the powerpack of her lasgun... The energycell overheats in an instant, exploding violently and simply evaporating the womans left arm, half of her face and a good chunk of her torso. A fraction of a second later the blastwave hits the bottles of spirits the bartender kept behind the counter and Poncho barely manages to drop down into cover before the break and incinerate with a loud BOOOOOM. There will likely be little left of both lasgunners beside two piles of burned ash slightly smelling of rum.



Njall dives some paces forward, flips over another table for cover and takes aim for Ben, who for now has wrestled free of Balwin. But the melee going on in the middle of the bar is too chaotic and Njall just can't get a good shot in. Trying not to hit one of his comrades, his lasbolt misses Ben by some inches. Ben noticed this, grins triumphantly at Njal before raising his laspistol at the back of Simonds head. CLICK CLICK CLICK is all that can be heard, as Balwin gets back on his feet, rubbing some blood from his broken lip and waving the powerpack of Bens laspistol "missing something?"


Simond and all meanwhile exchange blows in a blinding flurry of cuts, slashes, parries and dodges. Both men know their trade well and especially Simond proves that he is at least as good on foot with a sword as he is on horseback with a lance. Al seems to be slightly more skilled, his slashes that little bit better timed and cleaner excecuted, but his advantage there can not completely nullify what Simond has on him in youth, agility and sheer ferocity. Just as Al deflects Simonds Chainsword to the right, the cavalrymen hits him with his free left hand, distracting him for a crucial moment and slashing his blade once straight across his face. The howling blade rips its teeth into the man tearing his face apart. Al screams in feral agony, which is turned into a rather gurgling sound due to his state. He drops down to his knees, holding his free, shaking hand to his face, unable to move and will succumb to his wounds in the next moments.


Which leaves Tambo and M'Gele still engaged with the two brutes with their heavy wrenches. Noting that the battle overall has tipped in their favor and help will arrive soon, Tambo changes his stance a little bit to get a better angle for evading and parrying his attackers. And indeed he manages to hold enough distance between him and the first one to let his wide swing go off, but the other one manages to shoulder away M'Gele, duck Tambos parrying movement and slam his heavy two handed wrench right into his left arm. A nasty crack can be heard, as he breacks some fingers of Tambos left hand and slices open his skin. Fortunatly the Askari still has his sword in hand, but he looks in trouble.


___________________________________


Just as the lot of you try to adjust to the combat situation, the door swings open another time and you hear a loud... and very VERY finite BLAAAM as the bolt from a boltpistol slams into the ceiling right above you.

Through the open door you see Commissar Cole as a squad of Subjugators swarm into the room, shooting some kind of tazerweapons at the remaining enemies and bringing them down.
Cole walks in slowly, bolt pistol at attention mustering your lot and saying "all right... I guess I'll take it from here. Thanks for keeping at least some of them alive. Sorry for being late, we had to look out for your sergeant first."

Poncho was in the middle of observing his weapon, given the gruesome results achieved with the little pistol, and only the loud bang of the Commissar's bolt pistol made him snap out of it, he holstered his weapon to snap at attention after it was clear the Subjucators had things well in order.

With his ears ringing from firstly the blast, and and secondly the Commisar's pistol Simond takes a step backwards, away from Al and spins on the balls of his feet to confront Ben. He keeps the blade low intending to swing for the man's legs should he attempt to run, but outwardly the positoning of the weapon is intended to looks relatively inoffensive. He takes a deep breath of the smell of burning alcohol.

Njal quickly holsters his pistol and snaps a crisp salute to the Blackhat. Looks like they got involved a bit earlier than he expected. However, he wasn't complaining.

He glanced over to see Erc get to his feet and pull Perez up with him. Before the trooper also went to attention and saluted.

Njal wasn't sure exactly what Cole had been told, so decided it was best to keep his mouth shut for now. He wasn't exactly clear if he had walked out of a Blizzard and into an Icestorm.

Somehow Teodore hadn't fired a shot the entire time. Not that it mattered. There was just some mental block about shooting another human being that caused him to freeze up. He blinks a few times as the Commissar walks into the room.


"Ummmm, anyone need some first aid?"

Commissar Cole looks at the carnage around him and answers Teodore "Try to fix up that guy over there... I have some questions before he dies." with a tone that simultanously brings across the urgency of the matter as the chainsword wielding Al was really really messed up by Simond as well as the acceptance that the man was most likely gone to far to do anything more than end his suffering.
Even though he had been more or less stunned during the fighting, Teodore proves his worth again as he miraculously not only manages to keep Al alive, but even somehow fixes him up enough that he might be able to actually answer any questions with his own tongue, jaw and some of his teeth. A feat that earns him a respectful nod by the commissar "Well done son!"


Finally you file out and have little choice but to embark in some Arbites trucks waiting outside. Overall Cole and his lackeys seemed to have been here awefully fast, just as if he had been watching you much more closely than you thought. Getting in you also find Sergeant Wyona, who seemed to have been roughed up a bit, but isn't seriously hurt. While you drive back to wherever you came from, Tambo can't keep himself from asking Cole "How come you were there just in time?" to which the Commissar rolls his eyes and taps a microbeat in his ear "You really think you get a full set of these without some benevolent friend listening in now and then?" which raises a little groan from the Askaris realizing that the Commissariat most likely having heard everything you said the last few days. "Don't worry, you are not in trouble... at least not in a big one. I'll debrief you in HQ..."

The rest of the drive is mostly filled with you unwinding from the stressfull last moments until finally the trucks enter a walled compound and turn into some garages. You get follow Commissar Cole into a recreation room with a couple of sofas and even a recaf machine and a tray of sandwiches. "Help yourself..." the Commissar allows and somehow really manages that each of you feels somewhat at ease in his presence. No small feat as Blackhats usually tend to inspire fear and submission and not... relaxation. On the other hand it might be just that, which makes a good commissar: the ability to set the tone of the interaction whichever way you like.



Noting that you most likely have questions he starts to explain that what you have found there was more or less a cell of infiltrators from the Severin Dominate, delicately working to destabilize the imperial effort on Skrynne just enough to keep the Astra Militarum occupied and drain as many ressources as possible. "I suspected something like that going on, but every lead I followed quite literally went dead before I got anywhere. Always accidents of course, but you no the saying 'one is a coincidence, two is a pattern, three is a goddamn insurrection...'. So when your friends turned up in the clink, I smelled something fishy. So I though... lets see how this plays out if we loosen the reigns on your lot a little bit."

He opens a little pocket flask and spices his recaff with a healthy swig before continueing. Adressing Teodore and Simond he adds "I more or less had the same conclusion regarding how the orderly died, but I missed the keyboard. After you drew my attention I managed to puzzle the pieces together. Those guys had a good knack how to cause trouble without getting noticed. They changed the medication plan for some of our high ranking officers. If you had not drawn my attention there, General Plower would have died to a brain aneurysm within the next weeks and we would all have thought it to be a unforeseen tragedy. And there would have been a serious shortage in antibiotics and morphine in a month without us noticing due to some filing errors." which raises another appraising nod towards Njal, Teodore and Simond who had been involved in that.

"And now, thanks to you, we have a couple of leads to start following the threads and getting to the core of this. Needless to say that the Guardswoman and the barkeep have confirmed your version of events. So what can I say: you did good. Excellent to be fair. And the Imperium is not ungrateful." he takes out a small stack of papers and unfolds them.





"There are some opportunities at hand... if you want to take them." first he hands Teodore two official looking documents. As he glances over them he realizes one is a transfer sheet to the Generals staff, the other a honorable discharge from service "General Plower was pretty thankful and said he could well use someone as loyal as you and able to think outside the box in his personal staff. Solid payment and you would be out of the heat, in HQ. But as I heard..." he touches his earpiece again "you might prefer to rejoin civilian life again - whatever that still means on Skrynne. You have the rare opportunity to choose either so take your time thinking about it.

"As for you, trooper... " he glances into his documents "5-6-56-5... Your record is clear as water again, so if you want to rejoin your Korps, feel free to do so. But let me tell you this: I could really use a good marksman like you are and that might be more valuable to the imperial cause than wasting a keen eye like you on the frontline."

Next he adresses Njall and Erc "From what I gathered the two of you might like to be out of the blizzard without getting to bored, and I might be able to provide that. In my line of work I need drivers that can "hold their ice" as you might say it, that know how to handle themselves in a fire fight and feel as comfortable in a limo as in a rhino. You might never be promoted, but if you handle yourself well and are able to adjust to changing vehicles, I can arrange for a Lieutenants payment. And as Commisarial aids you would be somewhat out of the hierarchy."

"Something similar for you" he adresses Simond and Balwin, handing them a transfer sheet with a Commissariat coat of arms in the header. "If you want to return to your regiment that's fine, but I could make good use of someone who can hold his own against several men in a brawl. It's not a field of work with a lot of comrady and esprit de corps, but you seem to be a man who enjoys a challenge and values a chance to prove his worth and be a hero. And I can guarantee you plenty of that, son, that's for sure."

Last but not least he gets to Tambo and M'Gele, handing them not only two but 5 transfer documents. "I looked at your service record and your performance the last few days. And it got me the lingering feeling that you also might not be of best use for humankind on the frontlines. So I offer you this. Pick yourself squad of soldiers from your regiment. I'll have you be transfered to special operations. We loosen your leash a bit, flat hierarchies, no discipline mambo jambo and results count more than following orders. All that is asked that when we point you at some target, you get out there, scout it out, do what must be done. We ask no questions and you do neither. And we don't care what your men and women had in their ledger before, in this line of work we have no interest in the past..." Tambo smiles and answers "I might know just the right ones for that."



"Questions? Wishes? Everyone satisfied?" he adresses all of you.

Njal glanced at Erc, and the other trooper just shrugged. He had probably signed up out of necessity. His fate sealed and the guard was a new life anyway. Well, at least that's what Njal figured anyway. It was hard to tell with that one.

Njal looked at the papers for a while. He never liked the idea of running out of the back of a tin Rig into the teeth of enemy fire. Seemed a bit..... not healthy. Plus, driving a Black Hat around, sitting in A/C seemed like a pretty good rack.

Njal saluted, "Thank you sir. We are happy to serve the way the Commissar finds fitting." He gagged a bit on the inside, but that's how these things went. When you were on the ice, it was best to shuffle your feet.

Teodore looks around quickly at his comrads and the grateful commissar.

He has a few moments to think through his life up to this point and the horrific trial by fire he had lived through. It was mostly things he wanted desperately to forget about, but he had also become part of a band of brothers, and that meant something as well.

Finally he made his decision.

"Thanks. I'll accept the release from duty Commissar. I'd like to get back to working at the hospital and helping the civilians. I'm sure we'll still be treating plenty of soldiers though...and should I be tithed into service again, I'll be ready."

He looks around at his comrads.

"Gentlemen. I wish you all the best. Being part of this is something I'm going to remember for the rest of my life. I hope you all get to see your homeworlds again someday, I'll always be grateful you fought so hard to save mine."

Poncho seems to take a moment to think, but then the Kriegsman does something rather un-Krieg-like. Both hand lift up to remove his helmet and gasmask, something he would otherwise only do to eat and drink, he takes a long moment to look at every one of his companions, taking a deep breath following this.

''I will be glad to return to the Korps after all this, Commissar, though I remain honored to have served alongside this squad.''

The lanky face, pale due to the lack of sunlight, looks to the group, away from the officer he had addressed.

''I will be sure to remember your names, and share them with Him on Terra when I earn my redemption, others will know of your deeds''

With that vow, the Grenadier puts his gear back on, offering the sign of the aquila to the compratiots he does not expect to see again.

Simond glances to Balwin who nods, he smiles as he takes the offered paper from the Commissar. 'Thank you sir.'

First he looks to Teodore. 'I hope never to see my homeworld again. But my thanks for the sentiment.'

He grins as he looks around at his comrades. 'I'd say look out for trouble. But you all know how to handle trouble. So I'll say this, may you die well, but let it be after you've served HIM long and well my brothers...' he gives Wyona a wink 'and sister.'

"It's been an honour." Tambo agrees to the kind words from everyone else making the sign of the Aquila just as Poncho did. "May the skyfather always guide your ways until we all join him in the golden sunset."

For those of you all following this thread. Pyro just launched another game using the Wrath and Glory system.

Pyro will take care of dice rolls in the background so no rules knowledge necessary. And yes...Imperial Guard characters (and others character types) welcome

https://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/814011.page