Dark Heresy - Wisdom is the beginning of fear.

[Christian]

"Emperor's blood, you thick oaf!" Mithras cursed silently as Mik headed off... he'd been hoping the larger man would provide good support against the main force, but now things looked like they were changing... Well, two people went to help out at the tents, it didn't really matter who did it as long as someone made sure to aid whatever locals needed their help.

"Machine spirits, In all your unknowable grace and wisdom, Grant my weapon durability, So that it may serve me, As I serve you, With faith, care and servility..."

He unslung his lasgun from his shoulder and pressed the warm-up activation key, muttering the proper rites as he did so, the words learned by heart.

"With all my strength, With all my will, With every fibre of my being, I pledge my soul and my Faith, To the Immortal Emperor, Shepherd of Humanity."

The weapon hummed to life in his hands, his fingers clenching tightly around it as he looked to the others, hoping they'd do what he'd asked of them. He had no officer's authority to back him up on, and as Mik had so clearly shown they had no obligation to do what he asked of them.

After looking at them all, with eyes focused and clear, he turned back to watch the fray, picking up his weapon and aiming down the sight.

"Bringer of death, speak your name, For you are my life, and my foe's undoing."

He fired off a shot towards the raiders heading through the ruined wall, not stopping to look if it hit as he quickly began to move down towards the area of the main fighting, keeping close to side and low to make a small target. His life, and that of everyone there, was in the hands of the Emperor... But for now, he was in his element, and he would not see Stern Hope fall.


[Assuming this is doable. He's aiming for half a round, fires and in the next turn he'll be moving towards the fight]

[Jak Snide]

Crisis rifle whispered as the others ran down the hill and into town, Mithras pausing only briefly to mutter something and snap off a shot. The marksman watched the top half of his target's head disintegrate into a red spray, panicking most of the other raiders heading towards the generators. One made the mistake of dashing forward, unaware of his comrades' demise, a bullet through the leg and a slow, painful death from blood less was his reward. The few militia in his sights looked around in confusion, as did the raider. Most of both groups were keeping their heads down, but Crisis saw two of the attackers moving, arms held high and shouting things beyond his range of hearing.

(Map updated. Crisis got two rounds of combat as everyone else made their way to their own conflicts. The red line represents his angle of fire, the boxes with Xs are tents, and the brown bars are hastily overturned tables and other barriers.)

---

Mikolas ran towards the Crying Clotta, Xerxes, Aristarchus and Mithras heading towards the main fight as Cryvus sprinted ahead of him. The Abbot and the rest of the priesthood headed to the Priory, presumably to arm themselves.

---

Mithras arrived in time to watch Kos'ke moving forward swiftly, three of his men at his back, spears readied. He clutched a laspistol in his favoured hand, the other wrapped around a long, curved sword. His own men and the few militia men Stern Hope had mustered were trading fire with the advancing horde to little effect. He steeled himself for combat as Xerxes readied his shotgun and-

His concentration was broken by the roar of a machine. Turning his head he watched as a flat-bed truck, festooned with spikes, razor wire and crude armour plating, rattled towards the road.

(Here's the map for the main road battle. The truck rules have been explained via IM, but the speeds for reference are 10/20/40/60/80. Have fun.)

----

(Cryvus now has a choice. He'll have noticed what Mik is up to, which isn't heading to help the lady and the children. He can either abort his own attempt to aid them and join Mik in the truck at the main road or he can continue on alone. If you choose the latter then read on.)

Spoiler:

Cryvus ran as fast as his legs could carry them, watching more and more tents light up as the raiders moved closer to their target. He arrived in time to hear the woman wailing and goading the children away from the combat. Several were crying, a few even sitting on the ground and truly bawling their eyes out. A fierce melee raged nearby between a small group of militia and the would-be butchers. The former were greatly outnumbered. Cries of "heretic!" and "blasphemer!" filled the air, along with proclamations of the Emperor's judgement. The cries weren't of the defenders of Stern Hope, however. It was the attacks who ranted and raved, zeal driving them into a frenzy as they struck out at those around them.

(And the final map. You may enter from any square on the right hand edge of the map and take your turn normally.)

[Capntastic]

Mik pulled forwards, hollering to his companions.

"Get on!"

(Truck moves forward about 12 tiles or so, turning a bit towards the heretics. Then he waits for people to hop in back.)

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis' face contorted into a snarl beneath the gas mask. Oh well. It'd go to figure that someone would catch on eventually. He didn't quite hear what was being yelled, but there was a clear idea that the one or two yelling were giving orders...pity he didn't quite have access to the other side, but he'd have to deal with it. Crouching, he waited for one of his targets to make a particularly foolish move, keeping his eyes out for anyone that slipped up in their cover.

If nobody presented a good enough target, he was prepared to stow his rifle and close the range somewhat. He would NOT let them get to the generators at any cost. The mission must be accomplished.

[Delay, either to fire or aim at an easier target, or if no such target presents itself, to stow the rifle]

[Christian]

Mithras' eyes widened as the truck came roaring in, his body getting on it before his mind had time to react. Hefting his lasgun over his shoulder, he jumped aboard the vehicle, realizing suddenly why he'd been so surprised.

"Mikolas!" he shouted at the bearded driver, "Where is Cryvus!?"



[Probably not able to do anything but get on the truck this round]

[Kelne]

Somewhere along the line, Cryvus reflected, there had been a miscommunication. Still, his duty remained clear. What point in saving the cathedral, after all, if there were none left to worship?

Thus, Cryvus found himself facing down quite a few deranged heretics with but a few militiamen of uncertain skill. Not ideal odds, but ideas were easily planted in weak minds.

"Merciful God-Emperor!" he cried, "There's something on the hull!" In hindsight, perhaps that old paranoid symptom of space-madness wasn't entirely appropriate within atmosphere...

(Entering at square Z30 and directing crazed rantings at F3.)

[Jak Snide]

Crisis spotted one of the raiders make a break for it, dashing out of cover only to catch two blasts of buckshot from the militia. Another one ran out after him, thinking himself safe, a mistake which the sniper was all too glad to point out to him. The man staggered a few steps and fell, a ragged hole punched through him by the hunting rifle. There was more movement down there, though. Men moving between cover, their dead comrades having taken bullets so that they might dart about freely.

(F5 went down to militia shotguns, while F1 was picked off by Crisis. F6 and F4 ran between cover, the latter dodging buckshot, while F7 continued to cower. Map updated.)

---

Mikolas pulled out into the road as lasfire filled the air. Some went wide, others punched blacked holes in tents and some spattered off the improvised armour plating of the truck. The other acolytes and Aristarchus leaped aboard as the defenders returned fire. One raider went down, a brutal looking cleaver tumbling from his grasp, while a spray of autopistol fire from one of Kos'ke's men sent two diving to the ground and crawling for cover. The warchief himself stalked forward, his spear men right behind him, keeping out of sight and lying in wait as the raiders armed with melee weapons charged forward, bellowing oaths to the Emperor and accusing the defenders of all sorts of heresy. A large, barrel chested man near the back of the horde raised a heavy pistol, consecrated the shot to the God-Emperor with bellow and punched a hole clean through the front plating of the truck, far too close to Mikolas' head for comfort.

(Map updated. Mil2 took a lasgun wound, F2 went down to stub-revolver fire from Kos'ke's men and the one with an autopistol pinned F5 and F6. For added clarity: regular Fs are fanatics with melee weapons, FLs have lasguns and F-P is the large man with a hand cannon.)

---

Cryvus yelled and gestured wildly beyond the melee. Two of the fanatics turned, one screaming an oath and the other mouthing something wordlessly. The former was struck down for his trouble, though the fight was not going well for the militia. One of them went down, carved up by two bloody cleavers as another took a flesh wound, though the injured man fought on, clubbing a charging raider in the face and shattering his nose as another tent burst into flames.

(Map updated. F3 and F6 had something come over them, though only F6 is alive. He seems to have gone hysterically dumb, pointing in horror at some unseen threat with an open mouth. Mil3 cut down F3 and Mil4 took out the charging F9 after being wounded. Mil2, meanwhile, was cut down in a rather brutal fashion.)

[Kelne]

Let it never be said that naval tactics could not be applied to any situation. In this case, one should always remember that where there were explosions, there too must be the enemy. Then too, Cryvus disapproved of pyromania as a rule. Fire ate up the Emperor's blessed oxygen along with His most sacred property, neither of which was easily replaced aboard ship.

Cryvus therefore decided to discourage this behaviour by lobbing a frag grenade at the roof of the burning tent, certain that the firebugs would still be nearby.

[Christian]

Having climbed up in the carriage, and with no word from Cryvus in the Vox, he had to assume one of two things, neither which he found very ensuring. Cryvus was either dead, or he'd decided to save the woman and children by himself...

His train of thoughts was lost completely as he heard the shot from the hand-cannon blast through the armor of the vehicle they were in. The machine spirit kept on, but if they could do something like this to it...

He brought his lasgun up to sight and looked out through the group of people fighting... there... having his target he steadied his arm, a deep breath as his mind transported him back to his homeworld... back to the shooting range where he'd been drilled, for days, for weeks, the same weapon in his hands, now and then, the same....

Then, as he slowly exhaled he pressed the trigger and the lasgun gave a tiny, tiny shudder as the shot wheened off for its target, the man with the hand cannon.

[Half action to aim at F-P, then standard attack]

[NamagomiMk0]

Four down... Crisis thought. At least one more remained hiding, and there were two that really bothered him as of current. Especially the one who managed to get across while everyone else had died. So far.

Lying in wait, the sniper waited for him to show himself again. Cover should be running out for him. But so was Crisis' clip... Should this fail, he'd be very well tempted to ditch the sniping strategy, go down there, and gun the rest of them down...

[Delay, aim if F6 is moving out to the open, fire if he's moving for more cover]

[Capntastic]

As Mik felt the familiar jostlings of a crew piling into the back of his vehicle, he urged the truck onwards, and to accelerate. As he picked up speed, one sound echoed loudly above the roaring engine and screeching tires, yet in much the same primal, forceful tone.

"FOR DRUSUS!"

[Jak Snide]

Crisis waited and watched. The only movement he saw, though, were two bottles with flaming rags inserted in them fly through the air and shatter on the ground, spilling flames everywhere. One of the militia managed to avoid the flames, but now the tents surrounding them were ablaze.

(Map updated Firebombs throne and, while they didn't kill anything, they're going to cause complications.)

---

Every lasgun that in raider hands was directed at the truck. Beams of energy spattered off improvised armour plating, one blasting a gaping hole in the bit of metal that had fixed in place of a windscreen. Mikolas flinched but kept his cool, gunning the engine. Before the vehicle could move, though, a single las-shot rung out in return. Mithras vaporised the head of his target, the corpse toppling to the ground with it's neck ablaze. Xerxes let rip with his shotgun and then the truck was moving, it's wheels sending dirt flying as Mikolas performed a wide turn right through the ranks of the enemy. Men bounced off his bumper and bonet with the sound of breaking bones and abrupt cries of pain. Only one man managed to fling himself clear of the vehicle, another eight lying dead and broken in it's wake.

Of course, it was now heading towards a mass of burning tents at high speed, but that didn't seem to deter Aristarchus, who cried "Burn, heretic!" enthusiastically as he added to the truck's kill total. The defenders mostly watched in awe, though the death of one of Kos'ke's men at the hands of a charging fanatic forced them into action again.

As Mikolas felt the impact of the last man bouncing off his truck he cast a glance down the road. It seemed more people were coming, though these ones weren't shouting or waving weapons like their fellows were. They moved in two groups, staying off the road and closing in on the fight.


(Mother of god. Edit; Map updated and expanded upon Zero's request. Additional threats identified. FEs and the FB are, as far as you can tell, armed with lasguns as well.)

---

Cryvus' grasp of naval tactics was sound. While he'd certainly destroyed a tent and badly mangled another two heretics now lay dead on the ground, peppered with shrapnel, shocked expressions fixed on their faces.

The melee nearby continued to rage, though he'd certainly been noticed now by both sides now. Each side lost one more man, the militia still technically outnumbered two to one, though one raider had fallen over, still pointing in horror at some invisible threat.

(Map updated. Cryvus placed his explosive expertly, but now his presence is known to both sides.)

[Christian]

As the vehicle roared, Mithras winced quietly as it bumped over the bodies of their attackers. Heretics or not, that was not a way for any man to die...

But he had little time to waste on thinking. As the vehicle speeded on, he turned his sight, seeing the two men on the left-side front of the truck.

"God-Emperor, Guide the flight, Watch the target, Take the unworthy's life."

Another press of his fingers as he aimed for the man at the front, seeking to end the life of this heretic as quickly as possible.

[Fires at FL4]

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis continues to lie in wait, keeping an eye on that fanatic...setting fire to the area is a cute trick, but it doesn't do anything about his current line of sight...

[Same delay as before]

[Jak Snide]

(I've made an edit to the last post regarding the battle on the main road. If you want to change your action, Christian, feel free to.)

[Kelne]

"And the Emperor said to them, 'Beware False Prophets, For They Shall Lead You To Damnation'!" Cryvus shouted, opening fire on the heretics. Let them be in no doubt as to where he stood.

((Aim and fire at F2.))

[Capntastic]

What teeth Mik had left were gritted behind a grin. Using his kinetic energy wisely, a techpriest might remark, Mik let up off the pedal. And, spinning the wheel left, he prepared to instill upon two more heretics the force of the Emperor's right.

[Jak Snide]

Crisis ejected another shot, sweating under the hot sun as he struggled to focus. He'd barely caught the man as he dashed from cover: a messy hit had torn through his guts and left him writhing in the dirt, screaming as his intestines spilled out. The flare of another firebomb going off caught his attention - that militia man hadn't been so lucky this time. The other two were backing away from their burning barricade as the two remaining raiders ran into new positions.

(Map updated. Crisis scored a "kill", but so did the raiders. The militia are backing off.)

---

Mithras barely had time to shoot his target dead before one of the men yelled "Go for the wheels!"

Mikolas felt something shake the whole vehicle's structure, the wheel tearing itself from his grasp as the truck span out to the right, ploughing through a burning tent before coming to a jarring halt. Mithras slammed into the flatbed of the vehicle, his helmet clattering off the deck and saving him from a cracked skull. Xerxes and Aristarchus fared better, hanging on for dear life, the latter screaming prays to the Emperor and Drusus. Xerxes leapt from the truck as soon as it came to a halt. Mikolas, battered and bruised from being shaken around inside the driver's cabin, took a moment longer to roll out of his seat and stagger a few meters away, las-fire from the raider reinforcements already impacting on the bolted-on armour of the truck, the seer in the back bellowing for Mikolas to respond and tell him what happened.

The battle between the first wave of raiders, the militia and Kos'ke's men continued. One fanatic went down to a hail of shotgun pellets while another was impaled by the warlord as he ran past his hiding spot.

(Map updated. The truck is out of action for now, although it still makes for reasonable cover and hasn't exploded yet. Mithras was thrown prone and must spend a half action to stand up.)

---

Cryvus' shot punctuated his declaration, pitching his target off his feet as the second to last defender was cut down by a pair of flailing cleavers, a shrill voice crying out in distress from among the children. The last of the militia put the gawping raider out of his misery and prepared to fight for his life, interposing himself between the two fanatics and the helpless mob behind him.

(Map updated.)

[Christian]

Pain.

Damn it.

"Emperor's Blood!" Was all the guardsman had time to shout before he was thrown to the flatbed of the truck, the violent turning and shaking of the truck taking him off his feet.

When things had settled down enough for him to get up, which he did rather quickly, one of the first things he saw was one of the attackers. Well, bugger it.

There was no prayer recited as he fired against the closest of the attackers, taking little time to aim as he realized only he and the seer remained in the truck. The Machine-spirit was broken, how much he hadn't the faintest, but for now it would not be safe to remain here.

"Master seer!" he bellowed as the shot went off, "The Machine spirit has been compromised, get away from it!"

Which was, incidentally, what he planned to do himself...


[...the next turn, this turn is spent getting up and firing a shot as FL3]

[Kelne]

"Riddle me this, heretics! Is it pronounced 'lass' or 'layz'?" Not waiting for an answer, Cryvus shot one of them with the lascarbine. It wasn't as if there would be a sensible answer coming for a nonsensical question anyway.

((Aim and fire at F5, assuming he has line of sight. If not, move forward as required then fire.))

[Capntastic]

"You heretic bastards are gonna pay for shooting up my ride!"

And thus he brought out his mighty shotgun, and made to bring the fight to them.

(Heading as far left as he can, at this time, ending the turn behind cover if applicable)

[Jak Snide]

Crisis angled his rifle upwards slightly, aiming at the furthest of the two men he knew were down there. His quarry stepped out, ducking cautiously, and was punched off his feet as the last empty case was ejected from his weapon. The last man ran South, flitting into sight for brief moments as the two defenders began to reload their weapons.

(Map updated. Only one man left now.)

---

Mithras pushed himself up from the deck, gripped his lasgun and looked up just in time to spot the gun barrel being shoved towards him. "Die, unbeliever!" screamed the muddy-faced raider a split second before he fired.

There was a flare of pain and a sudden deadening of the nerves in his chest as he gasped for breath, but that didn't stop his well ingrained instincts from kicking in. His assailant topped over, most of his lower head and neck seared away by Mit's own shot, and the ex-guardsman finally turned his eyes downwards fearfully. He was alive, obviously, and his armour had taken much of the explosive release of energy for him. It'd still had a hole blown through it, revealing a patch of scorched flesh underneath. Nothing life threatening, but damn if it didn't sting like nothing he'd ever known.

Xerxes cast a half-glance back towards his fellow acolyte and, seeing that Mithras was still standing, grunted and took a few careful steps forward, shotgun raised and ready to fire at anything foolish enough to present itself. Mikolas unslung his own shotgun, a slightly battered twin of Xerxes', from around his shoulders and rushed forward, seeking cover as the sounds of battle raged behind him. He took a las-shot for his trouble, streaking from across the road. A minor burn, easily ignored, but it drew his attention South and towards the shooter. His two pals dashed past him, seeking cover behind a large burning tent.

"Beware, those ahead lie in wait."

Aristarchus had dismounted now, clutching his laspistol in one hand and one of those large cards in the other, eyes closed in concentration.

"They seek to keep us here as their brothers establish a cross-fire..." he muttered, loosing himself in some vision.

(Map updated. Mithras was shot for 4 damage, and Mikolas was shot for 1. Both are Lightly Wounded, and a few more casualties have been inflicted on both sides in the combat by the barricades.)

---

Cryvus aimed carefully and fired, his shot just grazing the back of his target's neck. The man yelped and turned, bellowing something unintelligible as he charged towards the man in natty threads. The other raider focused his attentions on the last standing, the two of them dancing about each other as the tried to land a mortal blow.

(Map updated. Cryvus barely missed but, as a result, drew the attention of one of them who ran full pelt towards him. He's at -20 to hit due to running, though if he were attacked in melee you'd get +20 to hit him.)

[Christian]

Twice. Twice he'd been shot on this planet. There would not be a third time.

As soon as the body of the man who had wounded him fell, Mithras sank to a crouching position, remaining on the deck and scanning the battlefield. His teeth were clenched and his breathing came in sharp, hissing gasps as he tried to ignore the pain, tried to make it less... distracting...

"I pray to slow the blood and close the wound..."

The wound was cauterised, thankfully, because of the heat from the las... He would not bleed to death. The words of Aristarchus reached his ear and he frowned as his weapon took aim at the two across the street before settling on the man with the lasgun.

Unbelievers? These heathen savages were unworthy of the light of the Emperor, and he would deliver them to his judgement.

"Die..." he muttered, sending off a shot before he turned and threw himself over the other side of the truck, gasping in pain as he impacted upon the soil underneath, his fall broken somewhat as he rolled to his feet. He was hurting worse than he'd ever felt before, but he was alive...for how long, only the Emperor knew.

"Hatred is my shield!" he yelled in defiance as he stood to once more survey the battlefield.

[Mithras fires, without spending any time to aim, at FL 10 before he jumps back to land at D-35]

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis knew his gun inside and out. Anything that aided in his survival would have to be known that well if it were to be useful. Thus, he knew full well that that was his last shot. Triggering the clip release, the assassin dropped the old clip from the back of the gun to his off hand, swapping it for a loaded one--and replacing it in the gun.

[Reload]

[Capntastic]

Angling around the cover provided by the burning tent, Mik didn't want to allow his foes the same comfort. Thus, he would flush them out.

(Grenade, towards the leftmost heretics)

[Kelne]

"What about the drains in Hackney?!" Cryvus demanded, advancing to meet the heretic and shoot him at point-blank range.

((Moving to Z27 and firing, as noted, at point-blank range.))

[Jak Snide]

Crisis slipped a fresh magazine into his rifle as he watched the scene below. He could see a flash of movement, but that was all.

(Map Updated. See your PMs.)

---

Las-fire whipped through the air around Mithras as he snapped off a shot, his bellowed benediction protecting him from harm. The heretic jigged right but the shot still grazed his shoulder, the man wincing in pain. By that time Mithras was off the truck and in cover.

Mikolas hauled a grenade up and over the burning tents and was pleased to hear the sounds of panic a second before it detonated. Xerxes rattled off a trio of shots as one man dived out from behind a tent to avoid the explosion, but the raider lay flat to avoid the storm of buckshot. A cry of victory erupted from the barricades behind them, one booming voice undoubtedly that of Kos'ke. The prone raider bellowed in response.

"Covering fire! Drive them back!"

Mithras ducked back as a trio of las-shots punched holes through the flaming tent in front of him. Mikolas saw a shot streak down the alley of fire to his left and turned just in time to take another in his shoulder. A metal plate spiralled away, blown free and half-melted. He felt the flesh there inflame and roared in pain. Aristarchus yelled something that was drowned out by the sharp crack of his laspistol as Xerxes ordered Mikolas to fall back. Another voice joined the din, still familiar from the interrupted plainsong ceremony, carrying across the battlefield and to their ears.

"Defenders of Stern Hope, servants of the God-Emperor! These infidels strike at the heart of our faith on the eve of the Saint's feast, piling heresy upon heresy as they cut down the innocent! Strike them down, sunder their bodies and send their souls to their rightful judgement!"

(Map updated.Mikolas was hit for 5 damage and is now Heavily Wounded. The Abbot Skae and Brothers Lamark and Severus have joined the battle, the former bellowing a Litany of Hate. You may choose to be swept up in his words and gain a +10 to your WS while in melee combat against vile heretics.)

---

The charging man had a split second of confusion before a beam of focused light punched through his chest. A wail of pure horror and terror erupted a moment later. Cryvus saw the woman and the mob of children she had been trying to control backing away fearfully, the former shooting him a desperate glance.

(Map updated. Six down, one left. If Cryvus rounds the corner he'll see that the last of the militia lies on the ground, barely alive and bleeding out rapidly.)

[Christian]

Mithras spent little time in cover as he slung his lasgun up on the railing of the trucks deck, aimed for a few seconds as he clenched his jaw shut, taking a shot at the man whom he'd grazed before. The litany resounding in his soul as he focused only on the battle, his breath still sharp at the stinging in his chest, but he could focus away from it...


[Aiming and shooting at FL10 again.]

[Capntastic]

He couldn't fall back. There was too much at stake, and he was in the middle of a plan he'd found to be most effective in the past. The injuries he sustained so far were inconsequent. He would recover; armor could be mended. But a bad conscience, or worse, regret, could not. He'd learned this much in his lifetime. In this sense, Mik never took risks.

He jumped to the right, and fired his shotgun at the scum he saw.

(Move to b26. shootin' B7)

[Kelne]

With no time to waste, Cryvus enacts the old doctrine of advance and fire, snarling, "None shall pass!" as he opens up on the last of the fanatics.

((Moving to ZA24 for a hopefully clear line of fire and opening up on the last of the heretics.))

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis shook his head as thoughts flooded his head. When had he chastised himself for not killing the enemies fast enough? The enemies have been falling at an acceptable rate...and none have breached the perimeter to the generators or workshops yet. All of his thoughts should be regarding the mission.

But you have absolute power here! You ALONE can choose who lives or dies! You are death incarnate, silent and unseen!

No...the power was meaningless. Outright meaningless. Merely a means to the end. That end being to defend the Cathedral and the generators.

Power is not meant to be squandered! Not to be used and then thrown away like a disposable weapon! But to be relished! Cherished! For eternity!

The assassin again shook his head. This wasn't natural. While the feeling of power was present...the mission was to come first.

Enjoy it! Enjoy your moment of omnipotence!

It felt sickening. As if there was part of him that was not supposed to be there. Something unnatural...he swore he could feel it before...

...but why was it there?

And he focused in on where the blur of motion was previously spotted, focusing his mind onto the target. NOTHING was going to make him abandon his mission.

Absolutely. NOTHING.

[Delay an action to fire upon the last remaining target should he move out into visible space. Reserve FP in case of a jam]

[Jak Snide]

Crisis could hear the voice in his head grow irate as he willed it aside. He permitted himself one small breath before steadying his aim and waiting. A few moments later he was rewarded for his vigilance as the last raider heading towards the generators toppled, clutching futilely at a fatal wound. It took him a moment to quiet the voice again, now ecstatic and demanding recognition of his prowess, before he could turn his attention to the other fronts.

---

Another shot ionised the air besides Mithras, but he was past being frightened now, the abbot's words fuelling his determination He steadied his rifle and fired and his target fell, half way to cover but not quick enough.

Mikolas watched Xerxes fire ineffectively again - something was throwing the man's aim off, but he didn't have time to ponder this. He stepped out and loosed a shot of his own, taking one man in the leg and staggering him. He almost managed to dodge the return fire, but two shots struck home, one grazing his thigh while the other took him in the chest, blasting through armour plating and scorching his flesh. The pain threatened to overwhelm him for a moment before it faded, a fresh surge of adrenaline helping him focus and become aware of the las-fire crackling through the air around him. He was caught in a cross-fire, the raiders across the road kneeling and loosing as many shots as fast as their weapons allowed them to. The abbot was bellowing something in High Gothic now, the meaning of the ritualised language lost to the acolytes.

(Map updated. Mikolas took 4 damage from two shots, dodging a third and then mysteriously recovered 3 of them. Mithras would have noticed Aristarchus focusing on a tarot card, eyes distant and sweat beading on his brow. The defenders of Stern Hope have begun to move up, but only Mithras is aware of that currently)

---

The remaining raider turned to face Cryvus with a sneer, but whatever retort he had ready was silenced by another lance of energy. As he crumpled the woman wailed and ran forward, falling to her knees next to the last of the milita men to have fallen, cradling his head and sobbing.

(All threats defeated on this front.)

[Kelne]

Cryvus likewise made his way quickly forwards, kneeling by the fallen man to check his vitals. He had been alive mere moments ago. There might yet be time.

[Christian]

"Xerxes!" Mithras roared as he swivelled the lasgun off the truck as soon as his previous lasbolt had sent the first one sprawling, "Get that frakker behind cover and out of fire before he's blown to pieces!"

He'd love to do it himself, but at the moment he couldn't; All he could do was thank the Emperor none of them had died yet... which wasn't to say they wouldn't any time soon, though, but with some covering fire...

"My armor is contempt!" He yelled, the sound almost like a laughter as he shot at his next target, one of the wretches that had shot Mikolas. They couldn't hurt him, no one could... not when the Emperor watched!

[Aim for half a turn, then fire at FE1... If that's not possible, don't aim but half-move to C34 and then shoot at the same target.]

[Capntastic]

Mik couldn't think of a much better thing to do at this time than to fire his shotgun as fast as possible at his assailants. There was no way he was going to back down to a heretic.

(Semi-auto shootin' to FE1)

[NamagomiMk0]

Pushing the unwelcome voice back, Crisis focused out of his scope, now looking over what remained of the main battle. Zooming in, he became filled with absolute fury as he saw that the truck--their transportation--had been apparently both damaged and disabled. Near the truck, he also saw Xerxes, the seer, and Mithras...

...but then who was all the las-fire directed at?

...Anger flared in his mind. There was only ONE person who'd make a big enough target to draw so much fire.

...one person who would be such an idiot AS to make a big target of himself.


The imbecile can't even grasp basic tactics such as using cover! He DESERVES to die! Just imagine if you were stuck with him forever!

...Perhaps he did. He couldn't completely disagree with the voice--anyone stupid enough to place themselves directly in a hail of fire--even the worthless las-fire created by standard-issue lasguns.

But what really angered him wasn't the thought of being stuck with him forever. Even the imbecile had uses. What angered him most...


He's a danger to vital personnel! VITAL! That is no less than treason! Execute him now and be done with him! You have the power to do so! So do so!

Mikolas has indeed done, in Crisis' eyes, some stupid things. But the assassin preferred one thing--that the imbecile at least get himself killed doing something USEFUL. The Harvesters from last mission were one thing, as was that blade-covered machine.

...these lasgun-toting cretins, not so much.

Kill him and be done with it. You can put a bullet through his head from this far, easily!

The assassin shook his head. A bullet would be going through someone's head...but not his.

With that, he aimed through the scope at one of the raiders constantly employing their "triple-tap" strategy with the lasguns...and squeezed the trigger.

[Aiming and firing at FE2. FP in case of jam]

[Jak Snide]

Mithras took a step forward, the combined bulk of Xerxes and Mikolas blocking his aim and fired, scoring a glancing blow that was easily negated by the man's flak vest. Xerxes turned his attention to the shooters across the road and fired, sneering in satisfaction a moment later as the sharp crack of las-discharge sounded from position Kos'ke and his men were now assaulting.

Mikolas opened up, a glancing blow doing nothing to ruin his stance. One of the raider's face was reduced to a blood ruin, the man gurgling a scream and collapsing, the warrior swinging his burst onto the prone man, peppering an arm with buckshot. Xerxes screamed and withdrew into cover, the armour on his right arm scorched and ruined.

Crisis placed his shot well, the bullet punching straight through his target's thigh. The man howled and hobbled into cover, firing ineffectively as the prone raider crawled behind a burning tent. The sniper turned his attention to the South side of the road. He saw one of Kos'ke's men go down to the last axe-wielding raider. The man was outnumbered and injured, but he fought as if possessed - no, just desperate the shooter corrected himself - and another of the warchief's men died, pierced twice by las-fire from a gun that very suddenly went dead, much to it's owners confusion. Mithras, meanwhile, was overwhelmed by a rotting smell emanating from Aristarchus. The seer was unharmed, however, his eyes still closed and a pair of cards clutched tightly in both hands.

The Abbot advanced with his flock, still screaming encouragement and litanies, running to aid Kos'ke and his remaining men.

(Map updated. Mikolas takes another 1 damage and Xerxes takes 4. The two remaining raiders North of the road are injured and in cover, while FE3 has had his weapon betray him, no doubt having angered the machine spirit with his heretical ways.)

---

As Cryvus neared the fallen man he could see why the woman weeped so; his abdomen had been cut open, exposing his innards. Both of the man's hands were pressed over the injury, fighting to keep his guts inside him as his blood soaked the ground beneath him. He looked half-mad from the pain and horror of his situation. The woman, too young to be his wife and distressed to a degree that she must be his daughter, looking up at the old acolyte frantically, her face wet with tears and desperation in her eyes.

[NamagomiMk0]

Perhaps you're losing your touch...he didn't die right there. Perhaps you should liste--

Crisis pushed the voice aside. Even if it wasn't dead, at least his large, idiotic ally would have his function as a distraction saved for another battle. Perhaps one where his large, loud self would be more useful, alive or killed. Something where he would be deflecting attention that would be otherwise turned Crisis' way...

No targets that way...but his attention was drawn elsewhere. Towards the sad, pitiful, sights of those three. Unaware of what threat waylays them...

...strange. One of them only fired two? There must be problems. Perhaps the machine spirit disliked him.

Perhaps you need some 'help'...you failed to kill that one, and he wasn't even aware of you. Are you that pathetic?!

The mission was no different this time than on the south side. It was merely to win the battle--not to kill everyone himself. If someone else killed them, then it would be to the same end. The mission was all that mattered. And as long as he didn't miss, his effort wouldn't be to waste...

The assassin pushed the intrusive thoughts aside, focusing in on the other raider with his scope...

[Aim, shoot at FE4]

[Kelne]

Gently moving the woman aside, Cryvus laid one of his hands above the wound, muttering intently to himself. His other hand was ready to shift the man's hands away from the wound as and when it became necessary.

[Christian]

"Emperor's blood!" Mithras growled as he felt the stench around Aristarchus, turning to the man. He, like Crisis, felt that trying to save their larger ally now was just pointless, the man clearly had a death wish. So instead he moved towards the Seer, fighting the urge to retch.

"Master Aristarchus?" He half-yelled as he was a few feet from him, "are you wounded?"

While waiting for a response he fished up the vox, hunching down to present less of a target as he tuned in on the frequency they were using. "This is Avelo... Mithras, Cryvus, Crisis, do you hear me? How are things faring on your sides?"

Thinking that the silent assassin would hardly speak, even if into a machine, he continued, "Tap three times if you are in any danger, otherwise once will do."

[Moving to D33 and, gasp, doing some non-combat actions this round.]