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Rohland's Roasters are a pyro maniacal mercenary company I created for a project. This was a story that I wrote for them, WARNING: It is long!:
A Fiery End - Just The Way To Go

Rohland cursed as the reports came in from the patrols. The Tryanids were landing en masse and would soon attack the remaining garrison in the overwhelming numbers they had brought to bear. Against them stood two regiments of the Imperial Guard and of course Rohland’s Roasters. All were well equipped with food and ammunition, but none were under the impression that he was going to leave this rock as anything other than a puddle of digested fluid in the belly of some ‘Nid.

The invasion had come as a surprise to all of them. Rohland and his crew had been battling a particularly nasty series of raids from Dark Eldar forces when the massive bio ships appeared and set up their blockade. It was a smaller hive fleet, probably a splinter tendril from Hive Fleet Behemoth which had ventured to the galactic west after the destruction of the main fleet. Rohland and his crew had been called in to assist in combating the raids but now they were stuck on the planet, trapped after the Tryanids had set up their blockade.

The Tryanids were a major threat to the galaxy, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since the Horus Heresy or possibly even the Fall of the Eldar. They were an endless horde, a plague that literally consumed worlds leaving nothing but barren wastelands devoid of all life. The horde’s core were ‘Gaunts. These creatures were almost as tall as a man and drowned their enemies in a tide of chitin, overwhelming all in their path by the shear weight of their numbers. They were ravenous creatures, but mindless without the intelligence of larger beings.

Controlling this hoard was the role of the Warriors. Taller, stronger and more deadly than their smaller counterparts, they are the ones who usually command the lesser creatures. Warriors transmit messages from the malignant sentience that binds the Tryanids together and sends them to do its biding. Carrying these and other innumerable horrors from world to world were Hive Fleets, a congregation of living ships the size of moons that carried millions of Tryanids from world to world and annihilated any in their path.

On the upside, Rohland didn’t consider Thornack a bad place to die. The planet was covered in lush forests that would have been beautiful to stroll in if not for the massive fleet of death and destruction hanging above the Allied forces. The forests around the drop-sites were, however, being systematically destroyed as Ripper Swarms and Digestion Pits devoured everything, converting the tissue into biomass.

The fortress the Roasters were stuck in was part of a colonization attempt by the Imperium to seize the rich mineral and ore deposits spread throughout the countryside. The fortress was made up of a central tower that stood more than a dozen stories tall with two or three more underground where the command post was located (a bit detached and in its own section but still part of the building) as well as food stores. Aboveground, the floors had been converted into barracks and munitions storage. The top floor had been created to allow tanks to fire down on advancing foes. The roof was the launch pad for flyers and at present held three Valkyries and Rohland’s own Incinerator, a massive bomber that had one been a cargo freighter but now could handle just about anything in the air or on the ground. The Valkyries where smaller, fast jets that were designed to launch deadly missiles into the heart of the enemy while holding the air space with their guns. There where still several project plans to improve the fortress but those had been set aside due to the massive hive fleet that was about to destroy the entire planet. The tower was supported by several pillars but these were mainly for decoration and to make it harder for close combat enemy machinery to get to the walls. It was a sweet compound and even had automated weapons on the outer battlements but it wasn’t likely to stand up to what was to come.
Frustrated by these thoughts, Rohland decided to check on the men and fortifications for the umpteenth time. As he strode along the wall he could barely contain his anger. The planetary governor was a slow-witted fool who had ordered anyone who tried to leave shot on the instant for treason and heresy. This of course included Rohland who had wanted to leave the moment the Tryanids had appeared in the sector. Instead he was stuck in a dingy fortress full of morons. Walking down to the courtyard Rohland found several of his men sitting around a table cleaning weapons and making bets on who would kill what.

“It’ll be a Carnifex, just you wait and see! A massive thing, one of the plasma screamers!” cried Jorax, a massive jovial Lorcan or bipedal Boar who had been with Rohland since Altarin.”The thing ‘ll come roarin’ out a ‘em trees and come straight at me, but just as it gets close I’ll fry it with good Old Margret. Its claws will melt away in the face of this baby!”

“A nice boast,” snarled Geran who was a small but agile gargoyle-looking creature that had only recently joined the crew. He was only ever happy when he had someone in range of his flamethrower and free reign to annihilate them. “But a Plasma Screamer would blast you, and then you’d know why they’re called Plasma Screamers.”

“Plasma Screamers,” thought Rohland grimly. The most feared kind of Carnifex in the galaxy. A Carnifex on its own was a fearsome sight- gigantic beasts that would charge across the battlefield like living battering rams. Like all Tryanids, they had four arms and used them with deadly effect, crushing tanks, infantry and anything else that got in their way. Plasma Screamers like their cousins were able to destroy basically anything in their path but have an added weapon. They’re able to spew a ball of plasma that can vaporize infantry in a way only a hot flame should be able to.

Noting his approach, Rohland’s lieutenant Fargan banged the table three times before standing to attention. Fargan was a Jomoran, a beefy humanoid species who never revealed their face and wore gladiatorial style armor. They were rumored to be the product of genetic modification and covered their face in shame. Rohland didn’t really care. Fargan was the best lieutenant he could ask for and obeyed any order, no matter what. He didn’t speak much but the entire company obeyed him. He carried the company’s flaming banner and used it as if it was one of his old maces.

The whole group stood and saluted, even the two Ork Burnas who had joined the Roasters on their last tour of the Obscurus sector but were still causing issues. Acknowledging the group, Rohland sat down at the table signaling that they could also be seated.

“What’s new Boss?” said one of the Burnas through the comms. In case of a surprise attack Rohland had ordered the entire company to wear their full combat armor at all times and to keep their weapons close.

“They’re landing, thousands of them of every kind: ‘Gaunts, ‘Fexes, everything. It doesn’t look good is basically what I’m saying.” He looked around grimly.

“Any chance of support from the Space Marines or even just the Guard?” This was Jorax who didn’t seem to be as confident as before.

“That’s what we’re banking on but we can’t count on it. If they don’t come we’re dead, I wanna make that clear. So our only shot is to hold out until they do, so no backing down or you guys won’t be able to collect on those bets.”

The group’s mood grew more somber as their plight was spelled out for them. Just then a squawk came through the comms, the signal for an incoming transmission.

“Go ahead Commander, this is Rohland.”

“Rohland, get your men and pray to any god you hold dear that these reports are false.”

Rohland stiffened, he could hear the fear in the Commander’s voice, the voice of a man who had been on Armagedon during the second war, the voice of a man who had suffered untold horrors was now scared. That wasn’t a good sign.

“What is it Commander?”

“The Tryanids of course! What did you think it is!? A bad tempered Gorax? No, they’re coming, should be here in… the Hell was that!? Arnold check the door! Emperor Preserve Us!” The Commander’s voice cut off and all the Roasters could hear were the screams and screeches as he, the Governor and all their staff was butchered.

“Right Boys! You heard our employer! The ‘Nids are on their way and I’ll be dammed if I’m ganna go down like those poor blighters! Get up Now! We’re ganna hold this fortress and make them ‘Nids pay for every step they take in blood!” When the gathered mercenaries failed to react to this speech, Rohland slammed his fist into the table, flipping it over his head. The movement seemed to startle the Roasters and they stood at attention hurriedly. “That’s more like it! Fargan get the rest of them. It’s about time we taught them bugs why they call us Roasters.”

With a curt nod Fargan disappeared into the fortress.

“Now the rest of you get your gear and then come meet me at the gate to the main fortress.”

“But what about the outer walls? Why don’t we just fight them here?” asked Geran.

“Look around you, you half wit! We don’t have enough men to hold these walls. We try and hold here we’ll be surrounded and cut off. Holding the fortress is our best bet but it’s still a long shot, a very long shot.”

Just then there came a cry from atop the wall, followed by the impact of what sounded like several rocks hitting it, but which Rohland knew were actually the first shots from the Tryanids living artillery.

“Move! We don’t have time for standing around! Go!”

It was a mad scramble now, the entire garrison was relying on the automated guns to hold the enemy back long enough for them to withdraw to the fortress. In reality Rohland wasn’t quite as sure in his plan as he outwardly looked, mainly due to the fate of the Commander who had been considered safe in the basement of the fortress with 15ft of solid concrete between him and the surrounding soil. Turning from his men , Rohland pushed his way through the stream of panicked guardsmen and into the massive fortress to which they where entrusting their lives.

An hour later the wall fell to an onslaught of artillery and Carnafexes. As the beasts poured into the breach, the tanks of one of the regiments opened fire to launch their explosive payloads into the seething mass of bugs, sending many flying but when 10 died 100 took their place. In the sky the other regiment’s Valkyries acted as an escort as Rohlands massive bomber dropped its incendiary bombs onto the advancing Tryanids. Even the guardsmen tried to help, firing out of the slits in the fortress with everything they had.

But even with all that, even with the massive amount of casualties they sustained, the Tryanids reached the wall. As they did, a roar went up and with practiced ease the Roasters did what their name said and unleashed hell on the approaching Tryanids. Hundreds burned as the Roasters smoothly fired then moved back from the slit to allow the next to fire. In their niches in the roof, many of the tanks continued to fire with all they had, but within minutes the bugs were at the walls. The first bug to get in was one of Jorax’s plasma screamers, its jaws glowing with plasmas as it turned toward the wall of Roasters to its left. As it did, the Roasters on the right unleashed an inferno on the Carnifex and the Tryanids behind. As the maimed beast whirled in anger and pain, the Roasters and guardsmen on the left did the same until the creature was reduced to a crisp. As soon as it stopped wriggling, the entire garrison turned and ran up the stairs to the second floor. As the door closed behind Rohland he heard several Devourer Beetles slamming in to it.

The Roasters immediately took up positions beside the doors and began to fire down the stairs at any unfortunate Tryanid that poked its head around the corner. Most of the guardsmen began to fire out of the windows looking down on the courtyard while others joined the Roasters and threw grenades down on the ’Nids.

This situation continued for hours. The Roasters and guardsmen would hold each floor for a while before one of the doors would collapse, a mangled ruin that fell aside as a Carnifex or other massive creature forced its way in. The first one through always died along with those directly behind it, but after that it was a mad dash to the next level. Ormac, the crew’s cook was the first to fall. Despite his four arms and massive strength, he was unable to escape being swallowed by the swarm of ‘Gaunts that caught him as he ran up the stairs behind Rohland. He had turned without fear, meeting them with a smile and a wave to Rohland. When they finally did surge over him, he ignited his fuel pack as a final act of defiance to the swarm. Next came Artanix. The ex-Eldar colonist went down screaming as Devourer Beetles swarmed over him, consuming his flesh. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t had time to ignite his pack. The Tryanids did it for him as they raked across it with their scything talons.

After that the casualties came faster and faster. By the time they had reached the level below the tanks, there were barely enough Roasters and Guardsmen left to be able to repel the first two assaults on the door. After these two, there was a suspicious lull that Rohland didn’t like. He ordered Jorax to go take a peek out of one of the windows to see what was going on while the four remaining Roasters and Rohland held the door with the few remaining guardsmen. Looking down into the courtyard, Jorax had just enough time to scream a warning before the wall was pulverized from the massed artillery surrounding the building.

As the dust cleared, the Tryanids on the levels below charged up the stairs. Hearing the scratching of their claws on the concrete steps, Rohland roared at his men, most of who had been thrown by the blast. Glancing back, he saw Jorax clawing at a gaping hole in his side. They locked eyes. He was going to die, there was no point denying it but he wanted to go out fighting. He always had. Rohland, who was the highest-ranking individual still alive ordered one of the guardsmen to get Jorax upright and give him his weapon. Then he turned to meet the charging Tryanids.

The door barely held. The assault had been more heavily armored than the previous ones, with Warriors taking the place of ‘Gaunts. But the door held against it - that is until the second Carnifex came. The thing was the biggest so far, even dwarfing the one who had broken the wall. It was still a Plasma Screamer but it was huge. It rushed the door, not even blinking as the Roasters opened fire (literally). When it reached the door Rohland knew there was no hope of holding it back. He shouted at his men (well some of them were men) to retreat up to the next level. As he got to the stairs Rohland heard a noise that could have only been the door buckling under the Carnifex’s onslaught. Turning towards the door he saw Jorax rush it from the side. Big, stupid, half dead Jorax who hadn’t followed Rohlands orders. He hit the Carnifex from an unexpected angle as it was preparing to charge after them. Caught of balance the creature stumbled.

“Go Now You Morons! This is it for me. Now Get Out!” yelled Jorax as he whipped off his fuel pack and held it between him and the Carnifex. When it turned, Jorax leaped into the air and latched onto the things head and detonated. The explosion consumed Jorax instantly in a blossom of fire and sent the spasaming headless body of the Carnifex sailing out the gaping hole in the wall. Seconds later he heard the massive corpse slam into the ground below.

Roland only barely made it up the steps himself, but once he had he realized just how bad their situation was. The tanks where burning- every single one. With a sickening feeling in his stomach he realized he hadn’t heard them firing in ages. He had thought it was because of the din of battle but now he knew better. In desperation he turned to his comms.

“Incinerator come in! Incinerator do you copy!?” Nothing. Then he heard the voice of the Incinerator’s pilot.

“Rohland! You’re alive! Oh gods we’re screwed. They took down our escort; poor blighters didn’t stand a chance…. They almost got one of our engines and we had to book it back to the platform. How many of you guys are left?”

“5 Roasters, 13 Guardsmen.” replied Rohland flatly. “Where are you?”

“We’re on the roof… Damn! ….We could take our chances with the fleet and try to warp jump before they can hit us.”

“We both know that won’t work. They’ll shoot us down before we get out of the atmo. We need a distraction….”

“What do you want to do then?”

“How many of them are there?”

“I don’t know, there’s just to many….”
“How much ammo do you have then?”

“Enough to take a few of them with us.”

“Let’s send these Bugs to meet their creator!”

“What’s the plan?”

“Got any bombs left?” asked Rohland spying a huge industrial drill hiding behind a tank.

“A few…”

They piled almost everything they had that could explode in the center of the level. The Tryanids would occasionally send a probing force against the door but they where repelled easily. The Roasters tanks were almost empty but they were still the best defense they had. The stack of explosives was surprisingly large and contained everything from tank rounds to incendiary bombs to grenades. The massive bomb would have been useless if it wasn’t for the drill. It had been hauled up to build a massive lift to allow tanks and munitions to be easily transported from level to level. With it they could send the explosive payload straight to the foundations. All they had to do was make sure the Tryanids stayed in the building.

Wrenching open the door Rohland and the remaining Roasters leisurely strolled down the stairs. At the sound of the door opening and the footsteps on the stairs, the entire tower seemed to shake as a single command went through the swarm, urging them on towards the Roasters. As the Tryanids rushed up the stairs they where slaughtered, roasted inside their own amour by the mercenaries who stood shoulder to shoulder, baring their way. Over the comms Rohland heard the countdown to the launch of the drill.

“3…2…1… Launch!”

There was a roar as the huge engine drove the drill and its explosive contents straight down through the floor of one then another level. As soon as it was off the Roasters turned and ran for all they were worth up the stairs and across the floor. As they sped past the hole, Rohland saw the tail end of the drill and then the hole below was covered by a wave of Tryanids. The Roasters had seconds before the explosives nestled in the chamber of the drill detonated. They reached the stairs as the Tryanids began to stream into the room. Their screeches followed the Roasters as they burst up out on to the roof. Slamming the door behind them they ran for the idling Bomber.

“Get Moving Now!” screamed Rohland as they approached it.

Immediately the Incinerator launched into motion and they had just enough time to jump into the back before it cleared the roof. Behind them the Tryanids burst on to the roof. Just as they spied the fleeing craft, there was a massive blast and the tower started to tilt and then fully collapsed to the side, barely missing the Incinerator as it came around to aim for a tiny hole in the blockade.

As they reached 1000 ft, the pilot hit the Turbo and they sped at a ludicrous speed towards the huge fleet. As flying Tryanids and smaller ships came to intercept them, the Roasters and Guardsmen fired everything they could at the creatures that came to meet them. As they careened through the writhing shapes, Rohland heard a noise he had never heard before. It was Fargan laughing. The Jomoran had survived the battle mostly unscathed and now was operating one of the flak batteries. His laugh set Rohland on edge but then he was laughing along with him. They raced through the Tryanids for what seemed like an eternity. The entire ship laughing as they annihilated Tryanid after Tryanid. Rohland knew it couldn’t go on forever but it didn’t have to. The ship despite its size had been equipped for warp travel and it was this they were banking on.

As a new wave of Tryanids flew at them the pilot yelled back: “Hold on to anything you wanna keep!” and then hit the warp drive.

Hope you liked it!

Overall, it had a pleasant Rogue Trader feel to it although I do have some questions.

There were tanks on the roof and the crews killed yes? If the 'Nids made it to the roof to kill the crews, where'd they go? Wouldn't the 'Nids have then headed down into the building to catch the mercenaries heading up? And how did the 'Nids get to the roof?

Then we have the small bomber with a warp engine. To the best of my knowledge only Gotterich Valon has ever been described as having a 'small' warp-capable cutter. Generally warp-capable vessels are large. Additionally, Rohland says that their only hope is to hold the fortress until the Guard and Marines turn up (not likely to be healthy for either the xeons mercs or the human mercs that associated with them) but then they just fly away into the warp. How come?

1. Sorry if this wasn't obvious but I tried to make it so that the tanks were either destroyed by Tyrannofexes or Harpies even

2. Again sorry if I didn't make it clear enough but the Incinerator is meant to be big, Super Heavy big and it doesn't go through the war like normal, it does what I think the Tau do, hop in and out really quickly

3. Very true... Rohland does kind of contradict himself but I think that he was stating what he thought would have the most successes so he thought they were more likely to be able to wait as the Incinerator would probably be shot down but when there is no other option and they about to die, it is the best chance they have. Also he didn't know about the drill.

BTW: very little research was done so feel free to tear the story to shreds!

It is a bit long tbh, could you brake it down into smaller chunks please for easy devouring?

Very good, to be honest I don't see anything wrong with it. Good Job

@ Feline
Thank you very much
@Themanwiththeplan
I shall in due course

First part:

Rohland cursed as the reports came in from the patrols. The Tryanids were landing en masse and would soon attack the remaining garrison in the overwhelming numbers they had brought to bear. Against them stood two regiments of the Imperial Guard and of course Rohland’s Roasters. All were well equipped with food and ammunition, but none were under the impression that he was going to leave this rock as anything other than a puddle of digested fluid in the belly of some ‘Nid.

The invasion had come as a surprise to all of them. Rohland and his crew had been battling a particularly nasty series of raids from Dark Eldar forces when the massive bio ships appeared and set up their blockade. It was a smaller hive fleet, probably a splinter tendril from Hive Fleet Behemoth which had ventured to the galactic west after the destruction of the main fleet. Rohland and his crew had been called in to assist in combating the raids but now they were stuck on the planet, trapped after the Tryanids had set up their blockade.

The Tryanids were a major threat to the galaxy, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since the Horus Heresy or possibly even the Fall of the Eldar. They were an endless horde, a plague that literally consumed worlds leaving nothing but barren wastelands devoid of all life. The horde’s core were ‘Gaunts. These creatures were almost as tall as a man and drowned their enemies in a tide of chitin, overwhelming all in their path by the shear weight of their numbers. They were ravenous creatures, but mindless without the intelligence of larger beings.

Controlling this hoard was the role of the Warriors. Taller, stronger and more deadly than their smaller counterparts, they are the ones who usually command the lesser creatures. Warriors transmit messages from the malignant sentience that binds the Tryanids together and sends them to do its biding. Carrying these and other innumerable horrors from world to world were Hive Fleets, a congregation of living ships the size of moons that carried millions of Tryanids from world to world and annihilated any in their path.

On the upside, Rohland didn’t consider Thornack a bad place to die. The planet was covered in lush forests that would have been beautiful to stroll in if not for the massive fleet of death and destruction hanging above the Allied forces. The forests around the drop-sites were, however, being systematically destroyed as Ripper Swarms and Digestion Pits devoured everything, converting the tissue into biomass.

Second Part:

The fortress the Roasters were stuck in was part of a colonization attempt by the Imperium to seize the rich mineral and ore deposits spread throughout the countryside. The fortress was made up of a central tower that stood more than a dozen stories tall with two or three more underground where the command post was located (a bit detached and in its own section but still part of the building) as well as food stores. Aboveground, the floors had been converted into barracks and munitions storage. The top floor had been created to allow tanks to fire down on advancing foes. The roof was the launch pad for flyers and at present held three Valkyries and Rohland’s own Incinerator, a massive bomber that had one been a cargo freighter but now could handle just about anything in the air or on the ground. The Valkyries where smaller, fast jets that were designed to launch deadly missiles into the heart of the enemy while holding the air space with their guns. There where still several project plans to improve the fortress but those had been set aside due to the massive hive fleet that was about to destroy the entire planet. The tower was supported by several pillars but these were mainly for decoration and to make it harder for close combat enemy machinery to get to the walls. It was a sweet compound and even had automated weapons on the outer battlements but it wasn’t likely to stand up to what was to come.
Frustrated by these thoughts, Rohland decided to check on the men and fortifications for the umpteenth time. As he strode along the wall he could barely contain his anger. The planetary governor was a slow-witted fool who had ordered anyone who tried to leave shot on the instant for treason and heresy. This of course included Rohland who had wanted to leave the moment the Tryanids had appeared in the sector. Instead he was stuck in a dingy fortress full of morons. Walking down to the courtyard Rohland found several of his men sitting around a table cleaning weapons and making bets on who would kill what.

“It’ll be a Carnifex, just you wait and see! A massive thing, one of the plasma screamers!” cried Jorax, a massive jovial Lorcan or bipedal Boar who had been with Rohland since Altarin.”The thing ‘ll come roarin’ out a ‘em trees and come straight at me, but just as it gets close I’ll fry it with good Old Margret. Its claws will melt away in the face of this baby!”

“A nice boast,” snarled Geran who was a small but agile gargoyle-looking creature that had only recently joined the crew. He was only ever happy when he had someone in range of his flamethrower and free reign to annihilate them. “But a Plasma Screamer would blast you, and then you’d know why they’re called Plasma Screamers.”

Third Part:

“Plasma Screamers,” thought Rohland grimly. The most feared kind of Carnifex in the galaxy. A Carnifex on its own was a fearsome sight- gigantic beasts that would charge across the battlefield like living battering rams. Like all Tryanids, they had four arms and used them with deadly effect, crushing tanks, infantry and anything else that got in their way. Plasma Screamers like their cousins were able to destroy basically anything in their path but have an added weapon. They’re able to spew a ball of plasma that can vaporize infantry in a way only a hot flame should be able to.

Noting his approach, Rohland’s lieutenant Fargan banged the table three times before standing to attention. Fargan was a Jomoran, a beefy humanoid species who never revealed their face and wore gladiatorial style armor. They were rumored to be the product of genetic modification and covered their face in shame. Rohland didn’t really care. Fargan was the best lieutenant he could ask for and obeyed any order, no matter what. He didn’t speak much but the entire company obeyed him. He carried the company’s flaming banner and used it as if it was one of his old maces.

The whole group stood and saluted, even the two Ork Burnas who had joined the Roasters on their last tour of the Obscurus sector but were still causing issues. Acknowledging the group, Rohland sat down at the table signaling that they could also be seated.

“What’s new Boss?” said one of the Burnas through the comms. In case of a surprise attack Rohland had ordered the entire company to wear their full combat armor at all times and to keep their weapons close.

“They’re landing, thousands of them of every kind: ‘Gaunts, ‘Fexes, everything. It doesn’t look good is basically what I’m saying.” He looked around grimly.

“Any chance of support from the Space Marines or even just the Guard?” This was Jorax who didn’t seem to be as confident as before.

“That’s what we’re banking on but we can’t count on it. If they don’t come we’re dead, I wanna make that clear. So our only shot is to hold out until they do, so no backing down or you guys won’t be able to collect on those bets.”

The group’s mood grew more somber as their plight was spelled out for them. Just then a squawk came through the comms, the signal for an incoming transmission.

“Go ahead Commander, this is Rohland.”

“Rohland, get your men and pray to any god you hold dear that these reports are false.”

Rohland stiffened, he could hear the fear in the Commander’s voice, the voice of a man who had been on Armagedon during the second war, the voice of a man who had suffered untold horrors was now scared. That wasn’t a good sign.

“What is it Commander?”

“The Tryanids of course! What did you think it is!? A bad tempered Gorax? No, they’re coming, should be here in… the Hell was that!? Arnold check the door! Emperor Preserve Us!” The Commander’s voice cut off and all the Roasters could hear were the screams and screeches as he, the Governor and all their staff was butchered.