The war elephant is from Warlord Games (very beautiful sculpt), the warriors are from Victoria Miniatures, the lance tips are Ruststalker Transsonic Blades. I tried something new in mixing the grey for the elephant from blue (Maccragea) and Orange (Troll Slayer), as I red that grey mixed from complementary colors looks more “alive” than from black and white.

I intend to use it as a Sentinel Power Lifter, as I wanted to include a unit of those, it has the perfect size and makes (in my opinion) even more sense as big CC unit than a civilian forklift. Here is a picture for size-comparison:


I also magnetized the back of the elephant and the floor of the turret, as I intend to build an alternative turret including the usual Scout Sentinel weaponry, so that I have an alternative use for it.

The mini is Victoria Miniatures Commissar Anika. I exchanged her power sword for a power fist from the IG command squad sprue. This is my first take on a power fist, but I quite like it. Nice model, relatively easy to paint and looks great.

The model is Victoria miniatures “counts as Straken”. I currently consider running the N’Go part of my army (so all dark skinned soldiers with their CC weaponry) as separate detachment with some kind of melee approach, but I don’t like making them Catachan, even if that would be quite efficient. Instead I consider running them as Death Korps. It is quite a stretch optically, but it fits my fluff picture of the N’Go quite well. Fearless (Cult of Sacrifice), quite CC proficient (WS3+, Duty onto dead) and employing cavalry (Death riders or Rough Riders depending on what my opponent feels comfortable with.).
In that case he will likely be a Death Korps Field Officer, otherwise a Tallarn platoon commander.

those are osmanian military ranks

those are egyptian military ranks

My take on the FW Carnodon. It was a real piece of work to paint, but the result looks smashing with all that bronze/gold. Tried my best to get some glow on the plasma generator in the back and the purple volkites. I also tried the first time to give the Lascannons a more heat worn look. The commander is from Maxminis Desert Dweller line. The white writing on the side of the turret is arabic for the name "Kinza", a female name meaning "hidden treasure". A fitting name as this Carnodon was produced at the end of the HH, then hidden away in a vaccuum sealed storage facility and only recently rediscovered. Now its machine spirit is eager to finally see battle...

A Models and MInis Agrius wheeled APC. While it seems to be intended as Chimera stand in, I want to use it as a turreted Salamander scout tank proxy. The hunter killer missile and the aquillas are from GWs tank upgrade sprue, the muzzle break are literally some pieces of sprue. The white writing on the side of the turret is arabic for "Niousha", a female name meaning something along the line of "the good listener" which seemed fitting for a scout.

no name so far... I'm working on it

In reading order: Flame Cannon, Plasma Cannon, High Velocity Cannon, Support Cannon, Twin-Autocannons, Quad-Machine gun, Multilaser, Size comparison to Leman Russ Vanquisher and Exterminator cannons. The Multilaser option might also be an alternative Quad Machinegun configuration. Note that while it seems that the options resemble the Leman Russ loadouts, they are much smaller and slimmer. The Hig Velocity Cannon looks more like a slim Autocannon and the Twin Autocannon more like a twin heavy stubber. But the Flame Cannon would make a very good Hellhound Inferno Cannon

Hamid stood up in his Command Chimeras hatch, his face hidden within the violet shemagh exept a small slit for his eyes and took his binocular up. Finally he could make out the craggy yellowish rock formation they were looking for. About time, as the sun was about to set and it the light had already started to fade. Still they would even be a bit early for their arranged rendezvous with the commonwealth troops, some of which he could already see beside a large military truck with a tarpaulin over his cargo platform. He signaled the rest of his platoon to change course towards them and shouted down to Kamil to steer a little bit to the left. A metallic banging followed by fervent cursing was the response, as his driver knocked his head on something inside the crammed cabin of their transport. Room for the crew was sparse, as they were loaded to the brim with provisions, ammunition and other stuff they had foraged. He knew his friend long enough not to mind, Kamil was not really happy without a reason to curse. From back in the crew compartment he could hear the sonorous snoring of the other passengers, squeezing in some long overdue sleep regardless of the IFVs roaring engine.

The dry, warm wind above the plain had calmed down a bit and it was nothing like the raging sand storms on Thoth that could grind down the paint of a tank until it shone silver, but still the ockre colored fine dust it brought seemed to get into… well everywhere. Nonetheless he had little to complain about. They had been able to pick up quite some stuff slipping around the border between the no man’s land and the enemy lines on their way here and his platoon had not lost a single man so far. They had even found a barely damaged pick-up truck and somehow brought it back alive. So at the least he would not meet their allies barehanded. Speaking of which, he made eye-contact with one of the N’Go scouts on their large, ferocious looking bipedal avians they had brought as steeds and gestured him to fan out a bit, as the impressive, carnivorous terror birds tended to get… nervous… around people whose smell they did not know.

Reaching the small encampment he could make out about a score of soldiers, most of them sitting around a campfire, while some others were tinkering around a six-wheeled scout car. He held up his right hand to greet their commanding officer, who approached him, returning the friendly gesture and saying something. Hamid could not hear him over the engine sound and put his hand to his ear to underline that with a gesture. Putting his own hands to the mouth like a cone the captain shouted “Did you run in any trouble?” “No, all clear.” He shouted back, taking a small package of grubby, self-rolled cigarettes out of his pocket and fumbling for one. Meanwhile the rest of his platoon had also arrived, greeting their comrades and putting down their backpacks with relief, stretching their numb limbs after their long march. A couple of their new companions had stood up admiring the Askaris large birds speeding around in the distance to get some excitement out of their system before joining the others, while others gestured them to sit down at the fire and have some bits of roasted game. Hamid tapped his flak vest for a lighter for his smoke as the captain in front of him smiled and reached out his left hand with his own zippo shouting “I just asked because we left us waiting. Already thought the bogeymen got you…” Wondering what “bogeyman” could mean, Hamid returned the smile replying "What do you mean, I thought we were early?" and started to climb out of his turret, as he realized something… odd. He could not identify it in an instant, but something just seemed off. The chatter around him calmed down to an awkward silence, the smiles on some of the faces around the campfire seemed to cool down and freeze. He looked back to the captain and saw his gaze fixed on a point slightly under Hamid’s face, the smile faded completely and his right low-key reaching down. One foot still in the turret, the Askari aga’s hand reached up to his collar touching his medal of service – an imperial Aquilla in silver. He froze and the little cigarette stump fell out of his mouth. The quiet "click", as the captain opened his holster cut through the silence. But Hamid’s hand was already at the trigger of his heavy bolter. Screaming “F***! F***! F***!” he let himself drop down into his hatch, while the weapon roared into full auto turning the foreign captain and a dozen of his men into a bloody pulp before they could even bring their autoguns at the ready. Everyone else on their foot was punched around and deafened by the sheer momentum of the exploding bolts from barely 10 yards away. Some of the strangers dropped to the ground to find some cover, others tried to get their weapons ready, but the N’Go were at them with their spears, clubs and bush knives in the blink of an eye and - being trained in gruel melee from childhood on - made short process with their opponents. The rest of them broke and ran into the dusk or towards the rock formation. The Askaris were suspicious enough to not just blindly run after them immediatly but fanned out to encircle them.

The driver of the truck hit the gas to flee, letting the terror birds hunting instinct spring into action. They catapulted forward in pursuit of the unexpected prey that was quite unlikely to escape their blinding fast strides. Meanwhile the mechanic at the scout car was quick minded enough to button up its hatches and try to get its heavy stubber into action to suppress the Askaris. Instantly Kamil let the chimera’s engine spring into action, speeding right at the scout car to angle their best armored front hull towards the heavy machine gun to weather the small caliber bullets and shield their infantry. It tried to evade them by driving backwards but an inexperienced driver and unfortunate lack of a rear mirror haplessly stopped it on the side of the rock formation it had just moved out of. Hamid had barely enough time to brace for the impact before he was slammed around in his turret as their IFV rammed the smaller vehicle immobilizing it. Rubbing his aching… everything… he heard Kamil curse again and duck, as a lucky shot smashed through the armored glass in the vision slit of his hatch, grazing his arm. Hamid risked a look through his mirror optics and could make out his Askaris approaching the scout car from both sides of the chimera. While the chassis was seriously deformed, and thick black smoke started to rise from the engine compartment, the turret was still moving trying to keep the guardsmen away from approaching – to no avail. A moment later a determined N’Go had dodged her way forward and slammed the sharp, shovel like end of her club into the turret ring blocking its movement. Another one had grabbed a crowbar and was going to town on the hatch, while two others stood at attention with their lasguns and a grenade. Enemy or not, Hamid almost felt pity for the soldiers inside. It was one thing to die in a fight, but just sitting there, unable to do anything while waiting for the inevitable...

He could still hear shots outside, mainly coming from the rock formation – likely some left behind sentinels and survivors of their first attack but one by one, those fell silent. The loud bloodcurling screech of the terror birds, followed by the dying scream of a man told that the fleeing had not made it either. When finally all seemed clear he pulled himself up through his hatch to inspect the carnage. Fumbling for his cigarettes again, he realized his hands were shaking. He told himself that the other man had reached for his weapon first. That they definitely were not the commonwealth soldiers they were expected to meet, yet still the feeling of impending doom lingered. What would happen to them if they just killed an allied platoon? To be honest, he already knew it. Looking up to the stars in the clear night sky he send a prayer to the skyfather and his ancestors to watch over his men and don’t let them pay for his faults.

Sergeant Harry inspected his troops. He had been summoned to the company command tent and Commisar Yarvov had accompanied him. The lieutenant, master sergeant Theas was there along with corporal Dunn and sergeant Urao was there and that was never a good sign. Half of the platoon was linking with allied troops. An imperial force of some description. The briefing both said not much. But his section was to act as recon to the force. Because, well the recon company was busy duking it out against militia forces to the south.

Wasn’t their job but their armoured cars could run down enemy cars and trucks on the rugged terrain more effectively than anything else. And of course Sergeant Harry of the 132nd Rifles had formerly been in a recon company in the 921st Fusiliers, and he was one of the most experienced trooper in the company still. It also went unsaid that it would be a good trial for the new commissar.

So Sergeant Harry was to command the recon detachment in front of the platoon’s movement. He had thirteen men and women under his command, and there was also Commisar Yarvov to consider. He had a marksman, a light machine gun and a machinegun team from platoon. For mobility he had two civilian trucks and a Gailen weapons mounted patrol vehicle. Klomn manufacture, Vasterol’s lion badge on the radiator. A non too small bolt of pride shot through Harry’s chest. That vehicle had been made in Sebam, his city. He owned one of these. Albeit without the mine plating, suspended seats and machineguns.

Harry liked being out for operations like this, never mind how the last one ended. It wasn’t something you dwelled on. You just enjoyed the wind on your face, the spirit de corps and the prospect of maybe getting to brass something up. His vehicle was the leader, one of the civilian vehicles, as he could sit next to his vox operator. The Galen, was behind, ready to spring out and give the enemy a storm bolter and heavy stubber for their troubles.

Yarvov sat opposite him holding a submachinegun. It was a little bit disappointing. Harry had hoped to have another bolter in his force, but the man carried a submachine gun and his issued las pistol. The Commisar didn’t look too confident with the Ardus manufacture submachinegun with it’s top mounted magazine and with the sights on the right hand side.
“Have you fired one of those?”
The commissar boy shook his head.
As weapons went it was counter intuitive for the uninitiated. It seemed like some bad joke that someone had thought to give him one. The KSR83 was about as intuitive as firearms went.
“You want the rifle?” Harry offered. The boy nodded. Harry handed it to him and unfastened his rifle pouches.
The Commisar handed him two mag pouches and the submachinegun.
Harry was happy. Hadn’t shot one of these things since a short stint on Cadia.

He wondered what the imperial forces he’d meet with were like, they’d deployed planet side fast enough and with the threat of a contested air and space. So either they were slick or they were keen. Someone had welded a steel plate to the bull bar to protect the engine on his lead vehicle, it’d stop a bit from small arms fire. They’d stencilled an imperial eagle onto it in white paint so their allies could recognise them.
The second civilian vehicle pulled off the road so the recon force had to turn over, a punctured tyre and that had to be changed. His soldiers didn’t have to be told to dismount and spread out.

Harry crouched under a tree. It was a shrub really and it’s narrow leaves didn’t really provide much shade. After a short while he could hear the sound of a bike engine approaching from the rear. A cursory glance told him it was a rider from the platoon that Command had sent up by bike, as they were under vox silence. The messenger advised him that one of the trucks carrying part of the platoon had also taken a staked tyre so they’d have to wait. It was what happened with civilian stuff.


Eventually the recon troop got mounted up and got back on the road.
It was getting dark by the time they came around the corner. He saw the Chimera’s turret pointing at his vehicle. He prayed to the emperor that whoever was in there wasn’t hostile.

And then he saw the blood. This part of the desert was yellow ochre, and the blood was easily spotted where it was the dampened soil clagged together. Harry swore. The situation was less than ideal. The other vehicles were fanning out behind him. They’d do damage, some would get away to warn the column if need be.

He halted the force. He’d likely be dead if it were the enemy. They’d been in constant contact with the Commonwealth Combined Corp so they’d recognise his uniform a mile off.. He dismounted and walked to the front of the vehicle then slung his weapon over his shoulder. The Commissar jumped from the back f the car and followed him.

Hamid leaned against the side of his chimera, drinking careful, small sips of cardamom flavored tea from his canteen, watching three of his men working on the wreckage of the scout car. They had managed to put out the fire in time, yet the engine was too damaged to be of any use. Still his mechanic seemed to be able to salvage some of the parts that could prove useful later on. Meanwhile the other two were trying to remove the heavy machine gun from its turret to fix it on the improvised tripod welded on the pick-ups cargo. Watching them at least took his mind of things a bit.

Hamid looked up as he heard the characteristic mechanical sounds of Samehs kybernetic leg approaching. He was a couple of years older and arguably his most trusted Basdeli since they met during the fights of the night of a thousand rebellions. They had shared a foxwhole during the attack that had claimed Samehs leg – and would have killed him if Hamid hadn’t patched him up. “Sahib? We rounded up the last of them… even made prisoners…” “That’s… good. Have you found anything?” Hamid did not have to clarify what that “anything” was. To his dismay Sameh shook his head. “None of them had any tattoos or markings. And the two we caught claim stubbornly that they belong to an ardus militia and are no traitors.”
“… He reached for his pistol first, when he saw my Aquilla” Hamid answered solemly. His Basdeli held up his hands in a gesture of agreement “You don’t have to tell me, Sahib. I saw it in their eyes at the fireplace. Whoever those sons of hyenas were, you did the right thing.” the veteran looked up to something behind Hamid and nodded in that direction. “Problem is old friend, you don’t have to convince ME.”.

Following his gaze, Hamid stepped back from the chimera and also saw the approaching soldiers somewhat in the distance. He put up his binocular again… some vehicles, a couple of soldiers… and a black hat. “Great, just great…” he mumbled to himself. At least this time he could make out an Aquilla on one of the cars and since they did not shoot but instead seemed to slow down and wait when they saw the chimera, those were quite likely allies.

Putting down his glasses he felt Samehs hand on his shoulder, the other resting on the pommel of his long curved dagger. “You know Sahib… Just if there has been some… confusion… it might be better if there was only one story told about what has just happened.” the Basdeli raised an eyebrow and nodded in the direction of the two prisoners that were just led to them by the Sipahis on their birds, prodding them with their lances now and then. Hamid admittedly had already had this thought and considered it for another moment before shaking his head. “No. They might have some intel. And in the worst case… they can still fight for the emperor. I won’t rob him of two honest souls if we should have failed.” He took another look around his men and then ordered “I go over alone. Be on your toes, we are still on no-mans-land and have to be sure who these men are this time.” adding solemnly “And should things go the other way, tell the men to accept whatever verdict the Commissar renders in humility.” Both men saluted, before Hamid started to approach the waiting strangers.

When he reached them he saluted the commissar and the sergeant beside him and introduced himself “Aga Hamid ibn Salem, 2nd Thoth Askaris, 21st platoon. We had orders to rendezvous here with commonwealth troops.” He checked their reaction and continued his report “Upon arriving we met a force already present. When they realized we are imperials they drew their weapons, but we prevailed. My men are behind that dune over there awaiting further orders.” With that he finished, waiting for the commissars reaction and crossing his fingers hoping for the best.

From his position further up the road Harry could see a burnt out scout car. Old model, Ardus militias and some PDF units still used them and plenty others were mothballed as replacements. The Commissar voiced his concern. “Looks like there was a bit of a fight here.”
There was a flash of movement above the dune where the Chimera was parked. . To his credit the boy didn’t exactly jump at the sight of the man but there was a subtle reaction.
“Easy.” Harry whispered.

A soldier with a purple shemagh and khaki uniform started to walk over to them.
As he approached the man Harry’s eyes crossed to the bodies that littered the ground. The stranger spoke in a dialect of low gothic that he knew, Tallarns on during the campaign on Mogathe Prime. The unsettling feeling in his stomach eased a little bit. But it wasn’t completely gone. Because well they had a chimera pointing his way and in five minutes half the platoon would be riding down the road in a soft skin.
Harry introduced the Commissar and himself.
He talked to the man, who turned out to be a captain. Harry introduced himself as a sergeant. But with a few years of campaigning, which the other man respected. He didn’t state that this was the Commissar’s first deployment. It was plain enough and there was no point in the indignity of saying it aloud. His soldiers formed a half picket and his allies did likewise.
As a point of pride he didn’t even need to prompt his soldiers for one to put a brew on. It was also a point of pride in seeing they didn’t stinge on the leaf.

The officer explained that he was part of a small imperial force. That the Commonwealth had once fought on his homeworld and saved it in one of it’s darkest hours.
That got under Harry’s skin, under his scalp. It was the first thing he learnt when he joined the regiment. 132nd Commonwealth Combined Rifles first on the ground during the war on Thoth. Straight into the attack, charging from assault transports as Urothrian gunboats and monitors flew above the field laying down a sheet of heavy fire and bombardment on the heretics. Made a hell of a painting.

It gave Harry hope. The legions had served on thousands of worlds in their service to the imperium. It felt like the Commonwealth had not been forgotten, like the Commonwealth was not alone.

He drank tea with the officer and told him that it was good that his unit was here. Of their shared history. He asked two men to check the bodies and asked the officer about the prisoners he had.
He had a sure-fire test if the men were traitors.
“Get Aarri and Kamiil.”
The commissar gave Harry sideways look.
“If they see you they will be afraid.” Harry explained.
Both riflemen were from the Gauel valley. Both wore scarves pulled up over their faces similar to Hamid’s shemagh. “These men are the emperor’s justice. If they are afraid they are guilty.” He explained. “If they are not guilty they will have nothing to fear. It is a custom.”

The men had intelligence use and would be sequestered to the rear to have their minds probed by the spooks before their summary execution.