Futuristic Only War: The Shining 1st

[Kallateral]

The explosion blows the ork to smithereens; only bloody ribbons remain, falling like raindrops where the ork used to stand. The blast shatters most of its cover, as well, throwing rubble into the streets below.


@Cartoonkarl's turn. There is an ork within charging distance - the one currently engaging Yorke.

 

[Cartoonkarl]

Not wanting to disappoint after such a successful kill he would lower his axe to the ground and then charge at the ork, rather slow at first before he begins picking up speed. Once in range he would lift his axe into the air and slide to a halt as he tries to use his momentum to bring the axe down upon the ork.


[dice]3898[/dice]

 

[Kallateral]

The ork barely skids away from the axe. If he'd had a beard, it would've been a close shave.


@VisionImp's turn. Two orks remain - Zharkov's and Aleksandr's.

 

[VisionImp]

Zacharias quickly surveyed the scene when he realized that he was not under any direct fire. Raising his rifle over the cover once more, Zach punched Lucian's shoulder, who seemed to be on some tangent about "Sarge always yellin' at us ta do stuff," getting the man's attention and aiming at Aleksandr's Ork.. The Techpriest probably needed more help than the Commissar.. and Zacharias didn't like the idea of firing a shot near him anyway.


(BS 46 +10 Half Action Aim +10 Accurate +10 Short Range +10 Standard Shot +5 Good Craftsmanship +5 Comrade)(also 1 pen)


[dice]3905[/dice]


[dice]3906[/dice]

 

[Kallateral]

The shot hits the ork in the right arm, causing him to howl expletives and lose his choppa. It falls clattering against the ground.


@Bones Johnson's turn. There are two orks left; Zharkov's is within Charge range.

 

[Bones Johnson]

A Guardsmen's duty was to die for the Throne of Terra. To fight and protect. So for that moment being, the commissar was the closest thing to fight and or protect! So when he got into the range of another ferocious sprint- he burst into one! Feet slammed against the floor as he hauled all his weight in a reckless charge, aiming to slam down his Eviscerator in a vertical cleave down unto the Orc from above, to minimize the chance of hitting Zharkov!


[dice]3908[/dice]


[dice]3909[/dice]

 

[Kallateral]

Ojhmar's ferocious slash tears flesh from bone and digs straight through the ork, and he cleaves it in half from the shoulder to the crotch - in an eerily appropriate fashion, considering the commissar's previous disfiguring blow. The two halves split apart, gushing blood, and reveal the triumphant, bloodied barbarian.


@Crocodile's turn. There is an ork in your face. Since you are Ganging Up on him with Aleksandr, you gain a +10 to your WS roll.

 

[Crocodile]

Sergeant Yorke just scowls at the beast before him and brings his sword to bear. He notes the creatures movements for a moment, aiming for an opening in its defenses before slashing the noisy weapon in with great skill. He was going to see this damnable creature downed before he lost more of his squad.


[dice]3927[/dice]


[dice]3928[/dice]

 

[Kallateral]

Yorke lops off the foul beast's leg, causing it to topple over dead on the ground.


Quiet.


The plaza now houses more than twenty corpses. And then there's the ten of you, the survivors. The winners. The smooth marble pavement is slick with blood.


The crate you came for is standing under the balcony. It is large and cube-shaped.

 

[Bones Johnson]

Ojhmar made reach for his knife slowly- the thought of scalping his enemies and leaving their remains as warning for any others. Then he recalled something about Orkz and fire, something about fancy fungus. But whatever it was, it went against the manual- so he avoided doing it. He aimed to slowly wipe his Eviscerator clean from the fight aside, glaring aside to survey the damage. Teeth still bore in his post-excitement grin.

 

[Kallateral]

OOC: Combat has ended and you have now returned to Narrative Time. You are free to act however you please.


@Crocodile @Cartoonkarl @Bones Johnson @VisionImp @Hellkite @Random Word @Unlucky Fellow

 

[VisionImp]

Zacharias stuck behind his cover for a few moments longer as the sounds of combat died down. Finally, after confirmation from Lucian, he peeked out and moved away from his cover. He kept his cloak close to his body as he carefully surveyed their personal bloody arena.


He looked at Lucian then motioned to the medic and the smaller man took the hint and rushed to Malakai's aid. Of course, Lucian had to reference Zach's marksmanship in there as he would try to help the man.. whether he wanted it or not.


Zacharias kept his weapon up, finding cover that granted him a better view of their objective.. while looking over at the mass of corpses of his comrades. He frowned deeply and looked away quickly, refocusing on the crate.


"Orders?" He asked.. whether anyone actually heard him was the real question.

 

[Unlucky Fellow]

Zharkov gives the ork's left half at his feet a good swift kick, knowing these bastards have a tendency to sustain unbelievable injury and still get up to fight again. He holsters his weapons and looks around, seeing they'd lost at least one of their own aside from all those stacked in the courtyard. "Let's give the fallen a bit of respect before we move on. These foul creatures shouldn't have even been here to do this to them." After collecting the cogtags from the bodies and confirming it is indeed the rest of their squad, making sure all the names are accounted for.


Supposing the corpses were actually their squadmates, the commissar makes his way over to Helly and places a comforting hand on her shoulder with a nod. "Remember that anger because it won't get any easier....but rejoice, for she's gone to kneel in the light of the Golden Throne. A much better place than this hellhole, of that I'm certain."

 

[Hellkite]

As the last Ork crumpled to the floor, Malakai gave a sigh of relief which was cut short by the stabbing pain in his chest. Swearing under his breath, he unslung his kit bag, delved inside and produced his medikit. Laying the red box to one side for a moment, Malakai unbuckled his Flak vest and laid it beside him, so that he could attempt to treat the wound. He tentatively felt the rough hole in his chest, before reaching behind to feel his back, searching for the exit wound. His fingers slipped in something wet, and he knew he'd found it. As he opened the medikit and produced what he'd be needing, Lucian approached, dropping to a crouch beside Malakai. The injured medic thrust the bandages into the man's hands.


"Hold this for a moment."


He weighed the syringe of painkillers in his hand, before tossing it back into the medikit and accepting the bandage from Lucian.


"I haven't lost a limb." He explained. "Someone will probably need it more than I do. Lucian, just hold the bandages and help me bandage everything that needs bandaging. I'll handle the rest."


[dice]3943[/dice]


Malakai wrapped the banadages around himself, tying off the linen into a neat bow once he'd finished. He didn't feel any better, but hoped the bandaging would stop the wound from getting worse.

 

[Cartoonkarl]

Aleksandr looms over to the side as he hides his Power Axe somewhere among his robes as he picks through the corpses of orks. "Filthy creatures." With his utility mechadendrite he stabs into each corpse as if testing the consistency.

 

[Random Word]

Helly allows her launcher to fall limply from her hands, then stumbles over to slump against the tree beside her fallen sister, hugging her knees tightly against her chest, crying in silence. As Zharkov places his hand upon her shoulder she starts, her head snapping upwards. Anguish, betrayal, and fury war in her expression as he speaks. "[HG] How could you allow this to happen?" she cries, seeing little difference between the Commissar and the Sergeant. "[HG] You promised we were to set ambushes, not stride blithely into them. You let that ignorant savage lead and now she's dead!" Her eyes well up with tears and she chokes back another sob, shaking. "[LG] I'll fucking kill them all. [HG] Let this useless world burn lest a single one is spared. [LG] I'll be patient. I'll be quiet. I'll blow all of them into pieces so small they won't even accept them for rations!" she screams, incoherent with rage, before the fire seems to go out of her eyes and her head falls back to her knees.

 

[VisionImp]

Zacharias frowned as he heard the emotionally distressed woman screaming elsewhere and this just made him even more paranoid as his weapon quickly swept about between buildings.. "Yelling will just lead others to us.." He mused softly to himself, pulling his cloak more securely around him.

 

[Unlucky Fellow]

Zharkov just nods. "I know, I know. In this instance you've every right to be angry. The Guard failed all of us by not procuring intelligence related to this ork pack. We've still got our mission though and more will definitely die if we don't complete it."

 

[Cartoonkarl]

While they are crying and mourning Aleksandr is too busy filling small baggies with the unmarred flesh of Orks.

 

[Crocodile]

"Gather up the dead, we're going to burn them if we can. I won't leave my men to be defiled by Orks," Sergeant Yorke saidly numbly as he keeps his sword in hand. He looks back some focusing on the dead and those left alive. He hated this and he felt guilty but also a pang of outrage as how this hand happened.


"Ojhmar, I want you and Aleksandr to secure the package. Now."

 

[Bones Johnson]

Ojhmar nodded to the Sergeant. "Aye, sarge." He said, exchanging yet another tribal conversation with Ibrahim as they walked to secure the large box. He lazily let the head of his Eviscerator rest on it, as his companion gave him a most disapproving scowl, speaking in hushed whispers- though the savage made no attempt to keep his voice hidden. "Bah. Let'a weep. Da' dead will die, an' let da livin' leave them where they lie." He said, peering back to the anguish riddled Helly, snarling a touch and huffing a breath through his broad nose. "Cryin' like a child. 'Er friend, died a glorious death. But she weeps. Dis shows dat the land of war is na' for women." He said, squatting down and sheathing his Eviscerator upon his back, trying to grasp the cube firmly from its underside and grunt, in attempts to first gauge its weight, before he'd actually attempt to lift it up and secure it. "She weak."


Ibrahm scowls at Ojhmar's words, face reddening. "Don't they teach you empathy back in that backwards swamp you called a homeworld?! The woman lost her sister- show some sympathy and respect, Emperor's sake!" He scolded the Native, which in turn snorted and spat aside.


"Emotions be fo' da living. What's dead, is dead. Leave dem."

 

[Cartoonkarl]

Aleksandr lets out an almost metallic groan and stands with his baggies of fungus, which he stuffs in the containment compartment on his servitor. With another buzz the Servitor would move over to the package and attempt to lift it as Aleksandr stands next to the large brute. "Sergeant Yorke, do we make plans to head to our primary objective or are we halting for now?" He questions in an almost monotone voice.


He lifts a hand to the black cloth that hides his lower face and removes it, only revealing that half his jaw was nothing more than metal and other implants. He then pulls out what looks to be a glass vial, or something similar, and packs dirt from the ground into it, before hiding it in his belt.

 

[Random Word]

Helly's eyes snap open and she jerks upright as if pulled by marionette strings. She stares blankly forward, uncomprehending, completely ignoring the Commissar's consolation, her attention completely fixed on the barely intelligible ramblings of Ojhmar across the courtyard. Her knuckles are white as she grasps the tree behind her, fingers smearing blood on the bark as she pulls herself to her feet and spins on Ojhmar in a fury. "Take that stupid oversized chainsword and shove it up your ass, you ignorant savage!" she snarls. "If you hadn't astounded us all by tracking your way into an ambush, she wouldn't be dead! Don't you dare call your fuckup 'honourable'," she screams, striding across the courtyard towards him, blinded with rage. "If dodging responsibility and spitting on the dead is your definition of 'honour', your people must be cowards and fools. I'm certain you make them proud," she spits, fingers digging painfully into her palms, a raging inferno behind her eyes.

 

[Cartoonkarl]

Aleksandr would try and move between Helly and Ohjmar, holding up his hands (and mechadendrites) in a non-threatening way. "It is not his fault as to why your friend was slaughtered, rather partially our Commisar's for losing his hat, and partially Evolution for spawning such disgusting creatures. You must understand it is our job to die." He states rather bluntly. "You should also work on not growing so attached to human life for it will only bring you pain and misery. Machine-spirits are much more reliable and have a life expectancy that far surpasses that of a human."

 

[Bones Johnson]

Ojhmar pauses from his heavy hauling, setting the box down if need be. He bore his broad grin as ever- but now there was fury in his eyes as Helly spat out her insults. "Ya' be careful now." He said, bearing his sharp teeth as Ibrahm also strides with Alskandr as a separation barrier, glaring at Ojhmar. "We be warriors! For da Emperor's name. But don't think fo' a moment dat I am above remindin' a woman 'er place." He said, head tilting as he glared at Helly, snarling. "Ya' weak! Ya' break down an' cry after a glorious victory?! Ya' have no place here! Bury ya' dead- an leave fore ya' join their ranks. We be hunters. They be prey. And the dead, are not'in but CORPSES. Weep when on ya' own time, ya' sniveling harshjmank!" He retorted to an insult at his own tongue.