Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

Simond reached out and pulled the lever, and the harness simply lifted out of the way, he was that shocked at the ease of it that he almost forgot to grab the reins of the mounts.
"Balwin, get your rotting feet over here now! Mount up!"
He pulled himself into his saddle.
He felt alive now. This is how a man went into battle. This was the only way to go into battle. He finally could tuck his javelins away into their sheath on the rear of the saddle.

He sided his horse to the wall rack where a pair of cavalry lances were secured. He freed them rested their buts on the floor of the spacecraft.
Balwin climbed into his saddle a little clumsily and when the man was fully in the saddle he handed the lances to the man.
"I will show these 'greenskins' the fury of Kitheria. When we find the creatures I will have an opportunity to show these men how battle is properly joined."

With the chimera free, Njall turned his attention to the frosted ramp. He would need to get that open if his efforts on the Box were going to be any good.

He dragged his ruck over to the pad and gave it a look. This was way more complicated than what he was use to in the back of a Chimera. However, back home it was normal to triple secure insulated bulkheads and sealed hatchways. If the doorway failed, and the cold got in; everyone was in danger. The big enemy was going to be time.

Njall casually saluted the small device, "My comrade-in-arms, I pray for your assistance in serving the Omnissiah." He then started scrolling through the menus, each sub-menu causing him to get more anxious until he began muttering to himself, "Snowball's chance in...."

For the Emperor! *Came the cry from the Kriegsman, who followed along when the side door was release. His demeanor changed noticeably when the gun shots were heard. Hellgun was held up at the ready, as Poncho adopted a position to better handle his weapon in combat, his bulky carapace plate faced right from where bullets would come from, stopping them in their tracks.

It was easy to spot the enemy, after all, wild fire was anything but subtle. He had not yet noticed anyone else but the Guardsmen that stepped out of the ship, and his target, a leering gremlin holding a mess of metal and wood, making quite the ruckus with it. Taking just a moment to aim ready himself (taking the +10 BS quick aim action). An armored finger pressed on the trigger, and a bring beam of purple energy scythed through the air, smacking the the man's target with the full force of the blast (Rolled a 14 hit, with aim and single shots, that's 5 degrees of success. Rolled a 3 for damage, for a total of 9, with Penetration of 7 if there's any cover involved)

Contact! We have Greenskins here! *Now he truly wished he could by with a fully fledged regiment, having to shout everything only made them a target. Wait, no, that was what he was meant to do, be a target, to spend his life for the Emperor, redeem his homeworld by... dying, killing for the Emperor. The Kriegsman remained standing, gun held high, as the internal debate raged on. With a shake of his head (passed the Willpower check to act with self preservation in mind with 34, needed 49), he reminded himself that a useless death redeemed noone, and he found himself right by two unfamiliar faces*

As Teodore pops out a second time he pulls the stock of his autogun tighter to his shoulder, as they had shown it in basic training, lines up another shot in this time - even though he still thinks the stupid weapon kicks like a mule - the shot finds its mark. While the approaching Grot tries to make some evasive maneuvre - or is just to dumb to run in a straight line - the bullet takes him in the leg. In an almost commical contrast to his first fumbled shot, it is a near perfect hit, shattering the small xenos' knee to bits, sending him to the ground, unable to do more than crawl slowly towards cover which by now looks agonizingly far away. The small creature screams and laments, whatching his broken limb in horror, while his comrades still run towards you - even though looking a lot less motivated then before.


The two soldiers that first joined them are still bringing their weapons to bear, looking around them and peeking around the corner. When the older of the two sees the medical bag and the sign of Saint Aesculap on Teodores helmet, he grabs him friendly by the shoulder, pulling him back a bit "We'll need you later, friend. Let us handle this for now."

Meanwhile another soldier, armored significantly heavier has exited the lander, his face hidden by a gasmask and a pretty massive looking lasgun in his hands. Without hesitation Poncho rounds the corner and opens up with a single, precisly aimed shot, that hits another of the creatures in the leg, going right trough it and into the rockcrete ground behind it. While wounded and loosing blood, it seems less hindered than its unlucky cousin and keeps on coming.
All three of the remaining Grots start firing on the armored attacker, yet due to the huge range and their very limited ability to aim at anything, their shots go all over the place.


NEXT ROUND

Njals work on the cogitator beside the ramp is surprisingly succesful and after only seconds of thumbing through the menue he realizes the similarities with those he is used to from back home and manages to hit the right bottons. With a squeaking of tortured metal and machinery, the hydraulic pushes through and the big ramp comes down almost completely, ending maybe half a yard above the ground. Deep enough for the horses and the Chimera, even though it will not be the most pleasant ride down there in the APC. That's what suspensions are for, right? His Comrad sees the opportunity and starts driving slowly towards the opening, so that Njal would have the opportunity to jump on board.

Simond therefore finds the way free and can charge out if he wants. Exiting the ramp he will see three Grots running still determinantly towards the rear ramp from the side so they cannot see the Chimera yet. They are about 40 yards away

The two dark skinned soldiers that first joined Teodore peek around their hiding place, not looking eager to join the armored one and maybe even using him as a bit of a distraction. Tambo and his comrad take their time to align a shot carefully, ever mindful of conserving the very spare ammo they have at their disposal. They go for the already injured Grot, hitting him square in the chest which knocks him to the ground pretty hard, hitting his head on the rockcrete and leaving him out cold for now.


The remaining two Greenskins now decide that going for the seemingly harmless human that first shot at them was not that good of an idea after all, turn around and try running back to where they came from to get reinforcements or just hide away somewhere.

As the ramp lowers Simond hears the sound of combat. He roars a battlecry and puts his beels to the flanks of his mount. As it thunders from the ramp he spots three diminutive greenskins making their way towards him. 40 yards is a good distance for his horse to gather speed into a gallop.

Simond laughs in mirth for the pathetic adversaries, they had nothing on a balgorn or brusnik, he readies his lance and aims to stike the central creature on his pass, which will take him to the large concrete blast shield. Balwin is behind and to the left and will attempt to lance a second grot.

The two soldiers that first joined them are still bringing their weapons to bear, looking around them and peeking around the corner. When the older of the two sees the medical bag and the sign of Saint Aesculap on Teodores helmet, he grabs him friendly by the shoulder, pulling him back a bit "We'll need you later, friend. Let us handle this for now."

Teodore didn't even see the results of his shot. He just instinctively tucked back into cover. When he started to pop around the corner again he noticed that the remaining grots were either downed or running away. He looked out at the arriving soldiers coming off the loading ramp along with the chimera and sighed a sense of relief.

He ducked into cover and allowed himself to sit down. The adrenalin started to drain from him and he found that he could speak again.

"Right, you need a medicae just call out."

He gestured to the area where the grots were fleeing toward. "Greenskins weren't even supposed to be this far in. They just came out of nowhere.

I think there's maybe two squads of Bronthian Long Knives pinned down beyond those barricades. They'll be dead if you off worlders don't move quick!"

"You have performed your duty admirably, now rest," Njal told the little cogitator as the main ramp lowered with a screech.

It was like Njal had walked through the sanitation steamers back on the drill rigs. A blast of hot air hit him square in the face. It was heavy, and hard for him to breath. It was like the entire atmosphere was made up of steam from a hot cup of recaf! Sweat sprang up instantly on his forehead.

"Ugh, no frosted way...." he mumbled as he gathered his ruck. He tossed into the back of the APC as it slowly passed and he hopped in after it. He glanced around for anyone else who may need a ride before sealing up.

While Poncho at first decided to head for cover, the bang of an autogun rang clear in the air, their paltry foe had gone down quick, and a shot from that dark-skinned brother from another planet sent his original target faceplant hard on the rockcrete. He reconsidered, as the last two Gretchins were fleeing already.


''More troopers are coming, with vehicles. We gather and charge as one unit, else a messy, piecemeal charge will end up in very wasteful deaths!'' He called to the others, rising his voice to ensure he was heard over the fact he wore a rebreather, comm beads were solely needed here ''Do you know how many Xenos we're facing?''

His Hellgun was held at the ready, the switch remained on single shots as he took aim at the fleeing foes, the horsemen had been in the process of freeing their mounts, after all, perhaps a charge was soon to be called? And so Poncho held his fire, opting instead to finish off whatever Greenskin wouldn't be felled on the charge he assumed was coming.

Simond was bellowing with laughter as his horse bore down on the diminutive foe. The creature was wiry built but clumsy, a challenging target to the untrained, but good practice.
The creature was caught completely unaware, and turned to run or do something.
"This is not war, this is sport!" Simond bellowed with mirth.

The point of Simond's land dipped at the last moment

The blow hit the creature's right arm and nearly tore the limb off completely.
Simond cursed as he thundered past, just a little more to the left and he would have hit it square in the body.

He had no want to wheel the horse around in the arc of any foe's gonnes so he kept on towards the barrier, Balwin following.
A quick glance over his shoulder told him that either Balwin failed to hit the thin little target with his lance, or he'd frozen up at the critical moment.

Two of the lower floors of the skyport hotel are burning and there seem to be intense firefights going on between some squads of Brontian Longknifes that have entrenched themselves behind a huddle of containers and concrete obstacles and routs of greenskins of varying sizes, firing their curde weapons all around them without even the attempt of aiming and charging through the fire towards the human defenders. Other groups seem to turn up everywhere - some of the smaller Gretchin creatures crawling out of a sewage manhole a hundred yards to your left, some of the bigger ones just pushing themselves up after climbing from somewhere lowere - the lower parking decks maybe? - unto the border of the landing field etc.

At this rate the defenders right here will likely be overrun soon, as most of the Brontians have just been send away towards the suspected main thrust of the Xenos.

Teodore managed to pull himself to his feet and gestured to the barricades in the distance. "I don't know how many green skins snuck up into the landing field, but I'd say a lot of em, and they got the jump on a lot of people."

He looked to Wyona. "I don't see any officers here Sarge but I'd say we're safer off staying with these off worlders until this mess gets sorted out."

Even though they don’t quite hit them fataly, Simond and Balwin overtake the two remaining Gretchins and continue further towards the blast shield to run the gauntlet and get into the back oft he Greenskins fighting their comrades in the shuttle. As Simond turns around to see if Balwin did have more luck with his lance attack, he can just make out the Xenos being hit by a purple colored lasbolt from the Hot-Shot gun of the Deathworld soldier he had been talking about with Tambo. The last remaining Grot runs for his life towards the opening between the heap of rabble and the blast shield and is almost there.

Teodors comment regarding the other Greenskins earns him a stern nod from the two dark skinned soldiers with him, while Wyona exclaims „Maybe we can flank the Xenos over there and help the other soldiers disembark.“ while she nods in agreement with Teodore that for now it might be best to join the offworlders which the older one answers with a rather informal „Good idea, kid!“. The trace of doubt regarding their chances of making a difference with a flanking maneuvre are blown away first by Simonds and Balwins charge from the mouth oft he burning shuttle and afterwards by the rattle of the Chimera tracks rolling down the ramp - both of which Poncho had already announced.

As the transport with Njal and his comrad on board drives on the ramp, the tormented metal budges a bit more down, but still you can feel the small drop down to the rockcrete shuttlepad deep in your bones. Not being the best marksmen, Tambo and M’Gele decide to rather try their luck in the Chimera and jump into the passenger hatch, nodding gratefully to Njall. „Praise the Skyfather, friend! Can you drop us off near the rubble?“ hoping to get a swift ride there, instead of running over themselves. Should Poncho, Teodore and Wyona make any impression of wanting to join them, they would offer a hand to enter the moving vehicle. Afterwards each of them grabs hold of one of the fixed lasguns in the ports at the sides of the transport, fiddling around with the setup they are not very accustomed too.
Of the four Grots, only one is still on his feet and running towards the opening, on which Njal could open up with the Multilaser. The one laying unconcious on the ground instead finds a quick final end, as your driver makes a slight turn with the sturdy APC flattening him under his tracks. The last one that had been hit by Teodors shot still crawls terribly slowly towards cover, but at that rate and out in the open, he is basically of no real concern.

Teodore nods as he sees the off worlders boarding the chimera.

"Well...no officers, no orders. I guess its just us and our common sense."

He applies said common sense and boards the Chimera.

Simond rides the length of the blast barrier. As he passes it he spots a much more larger and imposing greenskin along with another pair of grots.
"Finally a foe worth slaying." He growls to himself and turns his horse towards the target.
With luck the advancing imperial war machine will draw their attention.

After helping the others onboard, Njal slides up into the turret. He had never really been up in the Commander's cupola so this was all new to him. Everyone in the squad had been cross-trained into various jobs as redundancy. However, he had been trained as a back-up driver and not a turret gunner. However, a Las is a Las right?

The Ice worlder grabbed the commander's headset and slipped it on. He clicked over to intercom, as he tried to look through the hatch scope, He wanted to stay buttoned up as best he could.

"Didn't catch your name Dragoon?"

"Erc Redhand, Tundra Hawks, 3rd Company, 4th platoon, you?"

Njal paused for a moment. Redhand? Normally, a son or daughter carried their father's name forward in their surnames. it was a sign of honor and respect to your elders. There was only one meaningful reason you would not do this. If you had committed some heinous crime or deeds and you had been disowned. Then, the law may strip you of your birthright name and assign you another based on your crimes. How did this fellow end up in a Regiment at all? No time to worry about any of that now.

"Njal Pietrson, Arctic Wolves, 2nd Company, 2nd Platoon. You got eyes on any greenskins? I am having a tough time locating them,"

"Yup, I am heading right towards a little one."

Njal adjusted the scopes, "Copy that."

"How do we want to do this?"

"Over the top. Path of Least expectation," Njal fastened his combat harness and put his hand's on the multi-lasers controls.

Njal toggled the intercomm to the passenger area, "We are going over the top of the rubble. If you want to come along, buckle in. If not, you may want to exit out the rear hatch now. Should be going slow enough."

He had no idea if this was going to work at all.

Teodore climbed into the back seat and hunkered down. If they started taking fire he planned to grab a hold of one of the las turrets, but for right now things seemed relatively safe.

As he heard the tank commander speak he looked around in confusion.

Ummm, what regiment are you all from anyway? Isn't someone supposed to be in charge?"

Teodore wasn't expecting an answer...this wasn't exactly a standard military operation. More of an off the cuff desperate emergency.

One that he hoped would end quickly so he could get back to planning his escape...

in the Chimera

"Why is it so frakking cold in here?" M'Gele exclaims while huddling his garment closer around bis shoulders while Tambo tries to handle the lasgun in the Chimera array in a way to get the last running Grot into his crosshair. In reply to Teodores Question he replies "Thoth Askaris, 582nd light infantry." while regarding who is in charge he chuckles "Guess we'll figure that out later. For now just look what the guys around you do and ride with the flow, kid." Wyona seems more than just a bit put off by that comment and their complete ignorance of her technically higher rank, but is professional enough to not make a big fuss about it - right now.
Finally accepting the very limited firing arc, Tambo grabs his carbine again and notches his comrad in the side. "Thanks for the ride, Njal! See you later." before disembarking with a clean jump out of the back hatch when the vehicle slows down to scale the heap of rubble.

Out of the transport the two Askaris hose down the last unlucky Grot with two quick shots. The first hits its back and throws the creature off balance, while the second hit turns his right lower leg into red mist. Rolling on the ground it looks like the small Xenos falls into shock from the blood loss, at least he doesn't make the impression to go after his dropped weapon at all.





"Aknowledged!" Erc exclaims through the comm and shifts into a lower gear as the Chimera hits the big heap of rubble and starts to climb it. The dragoon seemed to have found a relatively stable stretch of the heap and gets the shifting just right, so that the armored transport gets in sight on top, obviously taking up the attention of the Grots in cover, that were just laying suppression fire on the ramp. Looking in that direction they also can see their unlucky brother, that had been hit by Tambo and therefore turn their attention over to that flank. This suits Simond and Balwin just fine, even though the runt herd seems to have heard them and has turned to face them. With a more annoyed than angry look on his face he shouts towards his subordinates who are uselessly peppering the armored vehicle with their little stubber rounds. "Oi, ya gits! Forget aboot da wagon! Partees ova hear!"



The Ork carrying the heavy burner does a few steps forward to not get crushed under the chimera tracks but is a sneaky one. Instead of just throwing some promethium on the APC just now he seems to wait to see if the exit ramp at the back is open or someone jumps out. And for that he shouldn't waste the surprise too soon. Neither Njal nor Eric are aware of him yet, as he is out of their field of vision

The attention of the orks was solely fixed to the imperial warmachine as it crested the rubble pile. He aimed his pass to the left of the big greenskin.
The mount thundered across the landing pad, its steel clad hooves beat a tumult of war which was punctuated by the gunfire elsewhere in the settlement.
The ork seemed unaware.

Simond set his lance across his body as the ork turned towards him, caught suddenly by surprise. It wasn't like the light strike he'd done on the diminutive greenskin, this was a worthy foe afterall, Simond couched into the spear. He felt it impact, felt the blow pushing him against the high back of his war saddle, felt the heavy ash shaft quiver in the moment that he loosened his grip on the shaft. The point was buried deep into the greenskin's chest, and the lance was lost for now. The creature was driven heavily to the ground, but if it was alive or dead he did not rightly know. But he did know he could not have hit the beast much harder with the lance.



Simond looked over his shoulder and saw the Ork pulling itself to its feet whilst pulling its guts back in. He bit his lip, and turned his mount hard, the foe was indeed strong. He reached into the pouch at his belt.

"Mission accomplished," Njal thought "they were now all shooting at them!"

He clicked the comm to life, "Let's keep their eyes on us. Advance at a walk."

Erc double clicked back to acknowledge.

With that Njal, squinted through his sights and started peppering the greenskin position with the multi-laser. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep their heads down so the other guardsmen could clear the lander.

Poncho really did start to reconsider his choice, the Chimera was never a spacious vehicle, although he rarely rode in one, and those times were when he server with his fellow from the Seventy-Sixth Assault Brigade's Storm Chimeras. For all their flaws, trenches where at least open topped more often than not, as were the smaller Centaurs his unit favored to ferry Grenadiers around the battlefield.

''I'll get the hatch'' He announced to the others, following suit with his words and making his way to the turret. ''Keep us steady, hm? Orks might be large, but we need accurate fire to kill them for good'' The disgraced Grenadier added as he unlocked the hatch and pushed it open.

The expressionless skull mask took sight of the battlefield before him, searching for targets of opportunity to fire at.

Before his subordinates can really react to the runtherds intimidating orders, Simond has already reached their master, the horseshoes of his mighty steed striking sparks from the Rockcrete floor. As the massive Xenos raises his slugga to defend himself, the Feudal worlder is already speeding past him, his cavalry lance an almost invisible crescent of sharp steel that slashes in one perfect deadly swoop across the Orks belly. The force of the impact throws him of his feet and to the ground, his attacker already on his way to the Ork boyz attacking the ramp further back. Bellowing more with rage than with pain, the runtherd struggles back up, shouting insults at his Grots who are just now starting to send some salvos of shoota fire in Simonds and Balwins direction. The hit that would likely have bisected a human seemed to have left little mark on the body with its bulging muscles, but as Simond and his comrad glance backwards to see the result of their attack, their target suddenly doubles up, putting his left hand to his stomach. Dark red, almost black blood gushes out between his fingers and here and there you can even see an inkling of his entrails wriggling. Simonds cut seems to have hit the mark perfectly, cutting it open from one hip to the other. The ork sends a wild, unaimed shot towards their direction, yet seems to be mostly busy with keeping concious - or even just alive.


While the runtherds shot goes wild, the four Grots get the riders in their ironsight, fireing enthusiastically - and would likely hit them just due to weight of dakka and relatively short range, but just then Njal opens up with the Chimeras multilaser as soon as Simond is clear of his field of fire. Not that practiced with the turret mounted weapon he just depresses the trigger, swinging the gun a bit to the left and right to force the Greenskins into cover - a task for which the fast firing weapon is specifically well suited for. As the lasbolts start flying, leaving smoking burn marks wherever they hit, the Grots scream in panick and duck down thus stopping to try and shoot Simond from his horse. Even the still rather tough looking runtherd goes down on his knees and crawls - his live still quite literally in his hands - towards what shelter he can find. The Chimera meanwhile advances across the rubble heap, slowly and steadily going downwards. 


As Poncho opens the hatch on top of the troop compartment right behind the turret, he can hear the rapid discharge of the multilaser on full auto and see the turret swinging left and right, obviously supressing the enemy somewhat. But instead his attention is immediatly caught by a much more severe and potentially fatal threat: as he lifts his head and upper body out of the hatch, he can see an Ork that looks even more battle hardened than the others about 10 yards to the Chimeras right, between the transport and the Drop ship. He has a bulky big metal barrel slung on his back which is attached to a crude looking amalgation of badly welded and bolted together piping. The little pilot flame on the tip of it does leave little to speculate on it's function though. The sneaky Xenos seemed to have waited for just this opportunity and sends a gout of flame in the Kriegers direction, hoping to watch him burn...

A moment after Poncho lifted his upper body out of the Chimera to have a look, Wyona tries to do the same, her Autopistol in her hands, a bit to the side of the hatch and not quite in the Kriegers field of vision, looking in the other direction. It must have been only a matter of split seconds, Teodore realizes rationally, but time seems to dilate endlessly, as he hears the starting roar of a heavy flamer and the start of the ducking body movements of Poncho reacting to something coming from his side of the vehicle. 


Meanwhile Tambo and M'Gele were obviously slowly advancing through the gap between rubble and blast shield, hugging what cover they could find. With the Grots being pinned behind cover, both of them decide that with their limited marksmanship there is little to gain for them there. Just this moment they hear the Burna of the big Ork roar to their right and try to bring themself in a position to shoot the source of the flames. At the moment they can't see it though and have to wait until the Chimera clears the heap of rubble.

Simond and Balwin hear the rapid "fieeew!fieeew!fieeew!fieeew!fieeew!" of rapid laser fire behind them together with a sudden stop of the slugga fire that came after them a moment before, as well as some bellowing flamer somewhere to their right, but right now their attention is on the three hulking Greenskins in front of them. Each is armed with an axe as big as a man and a crude looking one handed gun and all are just charging up the ramp to the shuttle. Freed from the constant fire of the grots, they can see some of the Imperials inside finally dish out some serious counterfire that they can now focus on the charging Orks. Weary of using a flamer in such narrow confines who could spell desaster of it was hit by a random shot, the first line is build by lasmen flanking a Krieger and an Arctic Wolf with a meltagun each in their middle. As already feared, the laser shots leave the Xenos completele unimpressed and with an example of agility you would not have expected from the oversized grunts, one of the Ork Boyz dodges away just in time to avoid the superheated wave from the St. Paulus Troopers melta. The Kriegsman on the other side waits right until the last possible moment, accepting his certain dead should he miss and fires his weapon at point blank range. With an actinic flare, his targets head literally vaporizes into a steaming red mist, the bulky body still running several steps regardless - to determined or to dumb to realize it is dead - thus tackling the Krieger and two other soldiers to the ground.


Simond might just have the time for one single action to maybe bring another one of the beasts down - or at least increase the defenders chances, before the other two will hit their lines.

Poncho saw the pilot light, and the pile of scrap it was attached to, it didn't take a genius to figure out what was what, and how uneviable his position was. Krieg's indoctrination kicked in there, the compulsion to stand defiant in the face of the enemy. But getting burned to ashes while peeking outside of a Chimera's back hatch seemed like a waste, he had yet to exapnd his ammunition. With all that going on in his head, the disgraced Grenadier ducked back down into the APC, reaching up with his arm to close the hatch and ensure liquid fire wouldn't follow him inside the armored vehicle.

''They have a flamer! Turn the Chimera around, or it'll cook us as we disembark!'' He informed everyone in the vehicle when he returned insidie, as he made his way to the disembarking hatch, awaiting the call from the crew to press the button to exit their ride.

Njal heard the son of Krieg, "What? A Flamer? Where?"

He keyed the comms to Erc, "We need eyes on that flamer! Come about on the far tread. Swing her ass out wide."

Erc clicked twice to acknowledge and swung into action.

That should shelter the guardsman inside the machine to disembark safely out the back and disperse as needed. The Grots wouldn't have the firepower to do much against the APC's side armor.

Njal rapidly cranked the turret to get sights on the enemy as the machine began to move under him. He did not want to unbutton to get his bearings at the moment. The commander's periscope banged painfully against his face.

Teodore pulls Wyonna into cover as the burna's flames singe and burn the PDF sergeant.

He frantically does what he can to put the flames out. as smoke fills the cramped crew compartment.

"Got injured here!" He calls out and attempts to apply some first aid to Wyonna. (Probably some burn cream if he has any, or anything else appropriate for the situation.

Simond turned his horse and charged for the three greenskins making their way towards the dropship's ramp. He came in at an angle so he could easily curve back away from the drop ship, pulled the blasting egg from his pouch and very carefully pulled the wire pin from the thing as he reached the edge of the dropship ramp and as he slowed his horse, a moment later he turned it quickly and spurred the beast into a full gallop.

Poncho ducks back in cover just in time, but can still feel the heat on the top of his head, as the flames of the burner wash across the Chimeras side and ceiling. Slamming the hatch closed he barely avoides getting the fire inside. Wyona is a bit less lucky, collapsing down on the floor screaming in pain and fear, as Teodor pushes out the flames as good as he can. Her helmet and uniform have taken the worst of the drops of burning fuel that hit her, but the hair on the back of her head is burned short and curling and her skin around the neck and shoulders will definitly need some care. Right now her biggest issue might be shock though, as she is obviously in panick from the fear of being in flames and burning.


All three of them feel the Chimera violently shifting as Erc puts her into a sharp turn to face the new danger and allow Poncho to exit the vehicle in relative safety. Njal also has to hold on tight in the turret to not be smashed against its side and loses the Grots he was just suppressing out of his focus. Instead he can see the big Ork with the flamer for a moment, before the beast turns his device on again and the optics of the chimera are blocked by fire and black soot. Shooting with the multilaser would thus be kind of a shot in the dark, but worth a try anyway...

Above the rear exit door, a small warning light shifts from red to green, as Erc tries to give Poncho the hint he was waiting for. At least the transport won't give better cover any time soon and nobody knew if the Greenskin would run around it with his flamer and if so, how long this would take.

Outside M'Gele and Tambo see the Chimera with it's multilaser swing around and realize that Poncho might need cover to safely exit the vehicle. So both of them aim towards the direction of the Grots to keep them occupied while he does so, switching to controlled bursts peppering the rubble heaps over there and using what cover they can find angled behind the Chimera. Unfortunatly they don't hit anything, with Tambos lascarbine even almost jamming, some electric discharge setting free from its power socket, zapping the Askari. Nontheless, only two of the Grots dare to get back up and return fire in honest, while the other two remain low - as does the runtherd who still clinges to his live, shooting wildly with his pistol while clenching the other arm to his belly. Within all those shots flying their way, two slugs indeed hit Tambo. While the first glances of the iron wood shield on his shoulder, the second ricochets of the Chimera and badly hits the side of his head, leaving a long and bloody slash from his temple through his hairline. The lasman more falls than ducks back behind the Chimera and needs some moments to swap the blood from his eyes and realize that he indeed is still alive - a very very close call. But the fire exchange leaves Poncho open to exit the vehicle in relative peace.


Up on the ramp, Simond throws the imperial blast egg between the two hulking brutes, but misjudges his speed, so that it goes almost 4 yards more to the right then he was intending. Therefore the shrapnells flying around completely miss the left ork but rip deep into the right ones leg tearing his crudely made clothing to bits and turning it into a heap of bloody shreds. Devoid of his second leg he slams face first into the ramp, swinging his axe wildly around himself while crawling forward, forcing the foremost Imperial soldiers to back off a bit. The other one storms the drop ship through the ramp, haking and slashing with his axe while the Guardsmen inside do their best to fight him off. The blood toll will be severe, but outnumbering their foe extremely, the Imperials should be victorious in the end. Simond had done what he could, skipping the odds decidedly into the favor of the imperials. Now his options are either to join the chaotic melé on the ramp or circle back to flank the Grots and Runtherd that seem to still be engaged with his ernstwhile comrades. Last but not least he can also make out the Ork carrying the burner which is another - if extremely dangerous target.

Time to go! The Kriegsman made ready to dart of the Chimera, but he gave his comrades a moment to provide some covering fire. Instead, one went almost down to a nasty ricochet hit. It was the very same Guardsman that welcomed him so nicely to this warzone, when they were in the dropship. This would not stand! Poncho rounded the corner of the Chimera's hull, lifting his Hellgun, pointing it at the two Grots who fought besides their larger Runtherd. The Grenadier unleashed a barrage of purple, overcharged laser beams into his targets.

The beams, unfortunately, went wild, all over the place, missing their targets entirely. The masked man left out an annoyed grunt and turned his masked face to the two other, more exposed Guardsmen. ''Get him inside, quick! Quick!''

His gun was still held up, ready to provide what would be, hopefully, more accurate cover fire as the battle went on.

Instinctively Njal turned away from the blast of fire. He was relatively safe, for now, inside the chimera. However, he was not sure how long that would be true.

Sweat trickled across his brow and down his face. It was not evaporating, because it was so frosting steamy here. He shook his head to shake it off, but to no end.

He steadied the commander's goggles and leaned back in, scanning for the Ork. The flame and smoke was obscuring his view, and he squinted with a desperate futility. If he saw that greenskin, Njal was going to give him the full light show and ice that xeno.

Simond. Bit his lip. He'd stuffed up that throw amd one of the beasts was still intact. He couldn't just let the thing get into the troops on the ship. He wheeled his horse around to face back to the ramp, his hand went to the hilt of the chainsword he spurred the mount up the ramp as he drew the chainsword and held it ready for a heavy downward strike from behind.

Teodore's "first aid" was relatively simple and straight forward. Some calming, and some quick application of Salve cream. But as soon as she realized she wasn't trule injured, Wyona was on her feet and ready to get back into the fight.

"Thanks for the assist, but I'm fine kid. I've had sunburn at the beach worse than this. Now save that stuff for when you see a real injury." Wyona grinned and grabbed a hold of a nearby latch as the Chimera moved fast to reposition itself.

"Wait a minute, we're not going out there again are we?" Asked Teodore.

Wyona looked back and scowled. "On your feet trooper. Get ready to move."

The green light on the rear hatch lit up and Wyona and Teodore followed the Kreigsman out of the hatch. Scanning for targets and ready to lay down auto gun fire on the nearest targets. (Will target the nearest visible enemies).

As Poncho calls him to get Tambo under cover, M'Gele has already put his fellows arm around his shoulder, supporting him while both stumble towards the Chimera door, from which Wyona and Teodore just emerge. A quick glance by the combat medic tells the Skrynne Conscripts that the older soldier will live and might even be able to trigger the lasgun array inside, but the fight on the ground is over for him. Both Askaris have an exchange in their own dialect and while the others can't understand every single word, in the essence Tambo scolds M'Gele that he should stop pampering him which the other replies with some kind of swearword and the sarcastic plea to stop bleeding on his uniform.

Now free from supression fire, the Grots shoot enthusiastically but very undisciplined at Poncho, but still one or two bullets might have found their mark, would he not stand half in cover behind the chimera from whose armorplates the small projectiles bounce harmlessly.

The Krieger more feels than sees Wyona and Teodore getting on his side. The PDF sergeant - now finally close enough - lets lose with her autopistol, while the Combat medic goes down to one knee, steading his weapon and taking another single, careful shot. Much to his own surprise he hits one of the creatures again, a clean shot right through his shoulder at the root of his neck which sends the Xenos staggering a bit back, sending his burst of bullets wildly into the sky. "Good shot!" Wyona exclaims, satisfied that the Recruit that was obviously still far out of his element still puts up a pretty good fight.


Simond rears his horse around and storms up the ramp, Balwin at his side, to get to the last Ork Boy. The Brute has already decapitated one soldier lying to his feet and is barely held back by several Lasmen with combat knifes, entrenching tools and fixed bayonets. These have a hard time trying to pepper him with lasbolts, as they parry for their live. But taking out the other greenskin with the blast egg has left half of the ramp free, so that a couple of soldiers were able to clear the shuttle and take aim at the big ork with the flame weapon - Emperor be praised.
Simond has to concentrate on his actual task though and finds himself in an excellent position, attacking the Grunt from behind while he is more then occupied with all the soldiers around him.


With all the gouts of flame and smoke, Njal can't see gak, but as FINALLY a couple of Guardsmen can clear the ramp, they start putting shots in the back of the massive brute. Just due to his size and ridicilous anatomy, these do not seem to do much besides mildly annoying him, but this is all it takes, as he fails to keep his flamer right on target. For the brink of a second, Njall has a clear sight of the Xenos legs, quickly swings the Multilaser on target and presses the trigger for a direct and focussed burst. Even though inexperienced with the heavy weapon, a target this close and big is hard to miss... The rapid firing weapon lets loose, chipping chunks of rockcrete up and finally hitting both legs. While the first one is already hit hard, the lasbolts quite literally explode the flesh on the other leg up to the hip and sets the whole Xenos on fire. An agonizing dead, which is cut a bit shorter as the obviously also damaged flamer tank ignites and goes up in a massive explosion, sending a miniature mushroom cloud of fire and smoke up in the air. The shockwave and resounding "BOOOM" can even be felt inside of the Chimera while Poncho, Wyona and Teodore are deafened for a moment, their hearing coming back slowly with a high pitched ringing. They can make an educated guess regarding the destiny of the burna-wielding Xenos though.


With their biggest trump gone, all four Grots seem on the brink of breaking and trying to leg it, but their handler, still too stubborn to die, shouts all manners of curses and treats at them, keeping them in the fight for now. Meanwhile he himself fires blindly with his Slugga over the rubbleheap in the direction of the Chimera, but seemingly more to make a general point than to hit anything, as he ducks further into cover, exposing very little of himself.