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Post by Darko on Jun 7, 2016 13:04:12 GMT
Before Nathaniel could reply, the air around them was filled with bullets and Orkish laughter. Most didn't hit either of them, but the sheer weight of fire made it impossible to miss. Half a dozen rounds ricocheted from the Stormtrooper's carapace armour, the impact of the heavy slugs like being punched in the gut. Nathaniel reacted quickly, raising his hellgun and punching several holes through the first ork's throat and skull. It dropped lifelessly, finger locked around the trigger of his over-sized weapon with an iron death grip. It fired wildly upward until it ran out of ammo.
Several more orks, each one sporting an equally large and ostentatious weapon - by ork standards - appeared around the corner. They used the turn in the tunnel as cover and began laying down fire with what could, to an outside observer, almost be called accuracy. The Flash Gitz each had completely different weapons. One had a heavy repeater with a buzz saw under the barrel while another fired unstable blasts of energy that blasted chunks out of the walls.
"DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKAAAAA!!!" Screamed one of the orks. Nathaniel's return fire bought Rook enough time to scramble to his feet, although the Stormtrooper grunted in pain as a bright green laser bolt pierced through his right shoulder from an unstable-looking weapon.
"Time to die humies!" One of the Gitz got overconfident and broke from cover, charging toward the pair of them. His fellows kept shooting and hit him at least once, but he didn't care. The Flash Gitz preferred ranged combat but they still had the same sheer strength as any other Ork Nob. He closed the distance quickly, chainsaw attachment whirring with ferocious speed as it swung viciously close to Rook's head. He narrowly dodged it, sticking his flamer directly under the Nob's throat and pulling the trigger. Immediately its brain was cooked within its skull, the flesh blackening like charred meat over its bone. Meanwhile, Nathaniel began laying down suppressing fire to keep the Flash Gitz's heads down for a few seconds. His flesh wound burned painfully but as far as he could tell it was mostly superficial.
"We can't stay here," said Nathaniel, "They'll overrun us."
"If either of us stays here while the other climbs then we'll be dead in less than a minute. We could take our chances further into the tunnel and rendezvous with the others top side. Like I said, we're both in this together!"
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Post by halonachos on Jun 7, 2016 15:13:05 GMT
"Into the tunnel we go." Nathanial kept some fire upon the Orks, "I'll take out that one with the electric gun, more importantly if we can get that weapon to explode we'll have an easier time of things."
Nathanial had tried to see if there was a powerpack standing out anywhere on the weapon, but taking cover and moving had taken his focus to other places. "By the Throne, maybe we could taunt that one into ramping the power up enough on his weapon that it malfunctions all on it's own."
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jun 10, 2016 5:57:54 GMT
Korina nodded to the Valhallan sniper and made note of what exit she'd indicated before turning and assessing the situation in the square. It was almost ideal. The area in front of the medicae emporium was wide and strewn with debris from the fighting, and even on high alert Orks didn't make particularly good sentries. Most of their attention was focused on the prisoners anyway. Sneaking through it would be easy for her. But it was interesting for the interrogator to note that the Orks had taken prisoners and were torturing them for information. Normally the greenskinned brutes simply killed everything in their paths, but this indicated that the Warboss leading them was much smarter than average and strong enough to enforce such an odd order amongst his underlings.
She checked her weapons and prepared to move. Lightly clad she moved like a ghost, quickly moving from cover to cover as she avoided the sight lines of the milling Orks. With her pale skin and white hair some of Inquisitor Victoria's other agents joked that she looked like a ghost, but when she moved stealthily like this the moniker was never truer. It only took her a few minutes to reach the emporium and slip inside.
It took her eyes a second to adjust to the dark but once they did took in a disgusting sight. Mutilated corpses were strewn about the devastated interior, hacked to pieces by the savage Orks. Judging from their attire and equipment and the presence of half-destroyed sandbag fortifications, Korina noted that an Imperial Guard unit must've made their last stand inside the building. Tragic, noble, but entirely unsurprising given the strength of the Orks in the city. At least they had enough honor to die doing their duty, unlike that idiot general outside. Korina scowled. She would met out his judgement in due time.
But the general could wait. Now she had to rescue that idiot acolyte. It wasn't difficult to ascertain her location-from the sound of the buzzsaw and the screaming she was located on the second floor almost directly above where she was standing. As she carefully made her way through the darkened hallway she encountered nothing but the corpses of more Imperial soldiers. It looked as though this building was also being used as a triage station as she moved further in and ascended to the next floor.
Crouched down she peered around the corner spotted the Nob who had dragged Quinn in. It was like all Orks, tall and thick-set, with leathery dark green skin corded with muscle. A disgusting tusked porcine head, comically small in comparison to the rest of its body, was set on its shoulders. In its meaty fists it carried an axe as long as Korina was tall. How gauche. In her fifteen year tenure as the blade of Inquisitor Victoria, Korina had seen and killed far worse. This brute would die no differently than them.
As she drew her force sword, she silently recited the mantras ingrained into her mind that unshackled her psychic potential. Not judging the situation to be much of a threat, she only allowed herself the unlock a small trickle. The temptation to unleash more was always there, whispering into her mind, but her psyche was a stalwart bulwark against them. She knew the voices would lead her down the path of damnation if she let them, but such a though was reprehensibly weak to the Interrogator. The Emperor still yet demanded her duty and she would not fail him so long as she drew breath.
With an almost inaudible crackle and the scent of burning ozone, Korina's force sword was charged with psychic energy. Sticking to the deepest shadows she crept up on the Nob. Any sound she might've made was drowned out by the racket the painboy was making as he worked and Quinn's screaming. Disconcertingly she could hear the painboy yelling questions about a black box at the acolyte which she desperately denied knowledge of. Then more screaming
At the very last moment the Nob must've noticed a trace of movement because it turned to face her, but by then it was too late. The force sword lanced through its chest and out its back, skewering its heart in a welter of gore. Normally such an injury would not be enough to kill a hardy Ork outright, but the lethal psychic energy coursing through its body coruscated like witchfire as it cooked the brute from the inside. When she withdrew her blade the corpse dropped like a stone, twitching spasmodically as blood leaked from every orifice.
Now the painboy had gone quiet. It must've realized something was up. Korina stepped into the room. It must've been one of the medicae's main surgical wards before the mad painboy had turned it into its nightmarish operating room. Blood was splattered everywhere and rusty surgical implements were equally scattered. At the center of the room a mismatched collection of spotlights illuminated a table that Quinn was tied to, and the painboy itself. It was easily distinguished by its dirty off-white apron and extensive collection of ramshackle bionics, all powered by a central dynamo implanted in its back that chugged and coughed oily black smoke.
"Another humie!" It chuckled as it revved a bonesaw built into its arm. "Dat one knows nuffing! I'll ask you questions now!"
Korina deftly dodge the painboy's charge. It was painfully slow, but could still do a frightening amount of damage with that saw if it connected. She would have to be careful and wait for a solid opening. She ducked and weaved as the Ork swung wildly, until finally a crazed overhead chop embedded the saw in the floorboards. It tugged mightily, but the saw was stuck good. Using its distraction, Korina reached out and grabbed the upper portion of its arm where the flesh met the saw prosthetic. Ice crystals began to rime the bionics and the ork's flesh quickly shriveled and blackened before it too was coated in frost. With frightening speed the ethereal cold quickly spread to engulf the painboy's entire body until it was locked in an icy rictus, mouth howling in unspoken pain. With a swift kick Korina pushed over the frozen ork and it shattered on the ground.
Cryokinesis was not a common psychic discipline but in the right hands it was extremely lethal.
Next the interrogator checked on Acolyte Quinn. She was alive, that much was certain. Unconscious from fear and pain, missing most of the fingers on her left hand, and covered in cuts and bruises, but alive. Korina slung her over her shoulder and moved downstairs towards the exit the Valhallan had indicated. Hopefully she was as good of a shot as she seemed.
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Post by Warork on Jun 10, 2016 6:05:18 GMT
Rook's mind raced. He had taken the very brief respite provided by the stormtrooper's well timed suppressing fire to jump back down into the muck (on his belly this time) and take cover behind the slumped form of the nob's corpse. He was entirely unsurprised to note that orks smelled just as bad dead as they did alive...and the toasting Rook had given its now charred head didn't help the scent factor at all.
"Join the guard they said." Rook mumbled ruefully to himself as the orks' loud and roaring return fire turned the area a foot above his head into an angry hornet's nest of badly aimed stub fire.
"It'll be fun they said." Rook heard a couple rounds hit the back of the corpse he was laying behind and probably for the first time in his life, Rook thanked the Emperor that orks were, as a rule, tough bastards.
The stormtrooper shouted something over to him from the other side of the tunnel which Rook couldn't only vaguely make out over the sound of ork weapons fire and equally guttural alien war cries. More frighteningly, he heard the slosh of their boots through the muck getting slowly closer. The orks were edging nearer to them with every passing second.
"Yeah, taunt orks!" Rook shouted back. "Fucking brilliant! But you know what I like better than that idea?! Living!"
While he shouted this, Rook was already scrounging in his rucksack for something and momentarily had his head stuck in one of its many pockets. When he raised his head again, it was enclosed in a rebreather mask and he held two canisters in one of his arms.
"So I've got a better idea! On my mark, give me another burst and get ready to make a run for it. Ready? Mark!"
Hellgun fire arced down the passageway yet again and Rook had to suppress a giggle when he heard an alien cry of pain as a result of it. Grabbing one of the canisters, Rook pulled the pin on it and sat up before launching the object with the full might of his arm down the tunnel. He had to suppress another giggle as he watched the canister bounce off the helmet of one of the orks with a sharp "Dink!"
Rook grabbed the second canister and went to repeat the action but as he swung his arm out and launched it down the tunnel he was rewarded with a hail of bullets and lasfire from the other end, one of which ricocheted off the wall next to him and hit him in his flak vest with enough force to put him on his back. He sat there for a moment, his rebreather constricting his vision to a small patch of the tunnel's ceiling but as he rose back up, apparently unharmed, he whooped, seeing that his ploy had worked.
The canisters exploded in brilliant flashes of light that were as harmless as they were annoying, but what followed were billowing clouds of choke gas that continued to spill out of each of them with no end. Soon the tight, tunnel was filled with the murky green gas that quickly stopped the fire the two guardsmen were receiving in favor of the orks sputtering and hacking up a storm where they stood.
"That wont hold them for long." Rook said through his rebreather as he grabbed his rucksack. "Lets make like a joygirl's legs and split."
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Post by halonachos on Jun 12, 2016 2:26:04 GMT
"You just want to run, eventually they will catch up." Nathanial said, he looked at his wound and shrugged. "We will run but first, we leave a message." Nathanial turned around and began stepping backwards in the direction of the far end of the tunnel, he channeled his angriest Orkish voice and yelled "Oi, dat zzap gun of yours hits like a grot. How's about you turn it up all the way to full power, or is you's too much of a snotling to try?" he was happy with himself, hopefully that one heard him. Hopefully the others heard him and would jeer him on.
"I suggest we get to cover as well while we move, eventually he'll push it and it will blow but until then it might hurt a lot more." Nathanial grinned under his mask. You wanted "fun", well here we go, nothing beats the adrenaline rush of a fully charged zzap gun firing at your back.
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Post by Darko on Jun 15, 2016 21:36:22 GMT
Interrogator Korina had taken no more than three steps through the designated escape route before the familiar snap-crack of a powerful las weapon greeted her ears, preceding panicked ork cries. She glanced up to the building across the street, where a figure was hunched over with a long-las.
Balalaika sighted a third ork nob in her scope, ready to take her next shot. In a split-second, circumstances changed drastically. Heavy caliber rounds kicked up dust around her and she ducked under cover, temporarily suppressed, as the silhouettes of two ramshackle aircraft passed overhead - the crude ork fighters that flew over them earlier in the alleyway. The ork nob she had prepared to kill instead turned its attention toward Korina, who was already being assailed by a several smaller greenskins.
Bolt pistol in one hand, the other holding Quinn, she put down her first two attackers easily. Then more came. Slowly she moved forward, killing the xenos with one or two rounds each. One of them got close and prepared to hack her leg from under her. Acting on pure instinct and adrenaline she stepped into its guard to shoulder-barge it rather than lose a limb. She pressed her pistol into its gut and wasted no time pulling the trigger several times. Normally tattered chunks of alien organs and flesh, with shards of spine and ribcage embedded, would have been scattered many meters in all directions. However, at such close range, the bolt shells did not have time to prime their explosive. Instead, several large, ragged holes were torn open in its back and it slumped over awkwardly, its eyes staring blankly upward as the cold and the dark overtook all of its senses.
Korina turned, her bionic senses alerting her to imminent danger from behind. An ork nob with a power klaw lunged to disembowel her. Balalaika took a shot but only glanced her target before she was forced into cover again. The nob stumbled, giving Korina time to dart out of the way. She didn't bother raising her pistol to shoot it, already knowing that she had expended the entire magazine. Instead she got a few meters away, deposited Quinn on the floor and unsheathed her sword. The nob turned and charged and she prepared to defend herself. It was almost on top of her when a hail of firepower eviscerated the nob's upper body. She looked in the direction that the shots came from and saw Lord General Bastille standing over the body of an ork, its throat torn and his shackles bloodied, holding its crude rifle. He nodded in her direction before turning to shoot another ork, covering the various other prisoners as they scattered, desperately trying to find somewhere to hide as more orks began to appear, drawn by the noise. The last ork nob, identifiable by his rather obvious bosspole, began to rally more greenskins who moved in his direction like insects preparing to swarm. Two dozen were already in view, and the nob hefted a large machine gun easily as long as the typical man was tall. The General took cover behind a ruined ground car, dragging a wounded Tech Priest with him.
Nathaniel and Rook picked up the pace as overwhelming firepower chased their heels. Chunks of wall were vaporized or ricocheted rounds that threatened to turn the tunnel into a death trap. The pair rounded a second corner, occasionally firing back pot-shots, when they were unexpectedly forced to stop. In front of them was a heavy flow of water and refuse, which they could see opened into what could only be described as an underground waterfall of muck, pouring into a central location where several such sewer lines presumably converged. Behind them the orks grew ever closer. Chased into a dead end, their only options were to stand and fight, or take a leap of faith into the rapid-flowing water.
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jun 17, 2016 0:52:46 GMT
Balalaika threw herself back as more rounds peppered the building around her, then ducking down onto her front she crawled along the raised lip of the building, keeping low as stone chips and explosive rounds tore chunks out of the monument she had been using as cover. she reached another statue, and idly wondered where the other two were by now as she carefully edged her rifle over the shelf she was one and sighted again, another problem with the long las, its crack and flash of its shot meant tracing fire back to her was remarkably easy, especially for a race so bred for war as the greenskins, she had survived by mastering the art of relocation, aided by the camo cloak that shielded and hid her. the Orks were regrouping, their panic fading as instinct reasserted itself under the kicks and bellowing of the largest one there. She saw the lord general break free and seize a weapon, impressed despite herself, she had expected him to be a fat an weak officer shithead. It seemed he still knew how to handle a weapon. She panned over to the Nob, now the entire world was nothing but her and what she was through the scope, it was so helpful that the greenies liked to display who their officers were with such obvious and visible signs. A hotshot pack slid lovingly into the receiving port, her breathing slowed and halted. Silence, and the ugly green head that filled her scope, a light, tender squeeze of a finger. CRACK
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Post by halonachos on Jun 17, 2016 13:05:38 GMT
He couldn't help but let out a quick laugh, turning his head to look at his surly companion "Well it looks like we're in a shitty situation." the stormtrooper said with a wide grin under his emotionless mask. Diving in and seeing where it went was an option as was fighting the Orks, however the weight of the gear bothered him. "Do you think your tanks will float, trooper?" he asked as he removed his shin guards and tossed them into the rushing water. He thought about how he would miss them as they were swept away in the torrent of filth. He then took his grenades, pulled the pins and tossed them back towards the direction of the Orks, absentmindedly hoping they would maybe hit something.
Nathanial retained his helmet, mask, armor, uniform, and main weapon but felt naked without the extra gear. With a glance at Rook, "You're gonna get a mouth full of sewage." he then pointed to his mask, "Masks and rebreathers are amazing things, keep taint out of your mouth. I whole heartedly suggest you getting one." he said before putting his fate in the Emperor's hands.
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jun 26, 2016 5:39:41 GMT
Korina grinned as the massive Nob spasmed in its death throes, instinctively spraying shells from his machine gun into the packed clutch of Orks surrounding.
That sniper was good.
Missing their leader again the attack stalled and the Orks briefly milled before angrily reforming. Prisoners continued to scatter but now the Orks were showing less of an interest in taking prisoners and they were cut down. Eventually only the Lord General and the Tech-Priest he was dragging remained. Korina sprinted to the wreck they were taking cover behind.
"We need to move him!" the general exclaimed as he tried to pull the Martian emissary's arm around his shoulder.
"No." she responded. Swiftly reloading her bolt pistol she pressed it against the priest's head and pulled the trigger. "As an agent of the Holy Inquisition, I can not afford to jeopardize my mission with unnecessary rescues. Out of respect for your rank I shall spare you the same fate, so long as you prove to me that you yet remain useful. Do not make me regret this decision."
Korina did not wait for a response from the Lord-General. She pointed towards the alley that she had emerged from earlier. "My sniper is covering that route. Now move!"
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Post by Darko on Jul 25, 2016 17:32:17 GMT
The Lord-General's steely blue eyes glanced Korina up and down from beneath a thick black brow. His eyes lingered on the black box she carried for a split second, a fact that did not escape her attention even amidst the chaos of battle, but then the General was back on his feet and sprinting for cover in the alleyway as directed. Despite nearing the end of his prime, he still covered the ground in good time. Overhead Balalaika turned her attention to the ramshackle ork fighters, as one was seemingly dive-bombing her position. Heavy calibre rounds decimated her position. In that moment she knew it was death or glory. She stepped out from behind the statue seconds before large chunks of its torso were blown apart, raised her rifle, sighted the cockpit and fired.
Korina killed a few more greenskins who had located her, however the rest - stalled for a moment when their leader was executed - were starting to converge on their position again. Quinn was still where she had left her, ignored in the fighting and presumed dead by the imperceptive orks. She looked up as an increasingly loud noise drew her attention - one of the ork aircraft was spiralling out of control and would inevitably hit the building behind her in a few seconds. She spared a thought for Balalaika, hoping the sniper would find a way to safety, then turned her attention to her own immediate situation. To the left was Quinn, out in the open and vulnerable, and to the right was the alleyway and the General.
Nathaniel Yorck spluttered, shakily pulling out the tubing from the side of his helmet and coughing up murky water that had somehow gotten in, damage from the Valkyrie crash perhaps. He slowly cleared his vision of muck and staggered to one knee. Looking up he saw Rook already on his feet, a half-face rebreather covering his mouth and nose.
"Could've sworn he didn't..." Yorck muttered, but let the thought go.
"Looks like all that heavy gear weighed you down," observed Rook. "The current took your hellgun and power pack but I managed to fish you out. You almost got sucked into a waste destruction chute."
Yorck frowned, unsure whether to be grateful or frustrated. Before he could think of a witty remark, their location caught his attention. "Where are we? Some kind of motor pool?" He glanced behind, seeing a large brass pipe suspended above them with a ragged hole in its underside, leaking foul water. From the scorch marks, he guessed an explosive must have ruptured it during the fighting long before they fell out of it. Truly the Emperor worked in mysterious ways...
"I think this was the staging ground for a Skitarii contingent before everything went to hell. Looks like the orks have set up shop. There's a lot of activity - they're all mounting up in their vehicles and heading in that direction," Rook reported, pointing back toward the way they'd come in the pipe. "Ten Throne Gelt says that's our friends causing trouble back there."
The pair of them crept closer to the orks, hiding behind a large pile of mangled corpses. Thankfully they couldn't smell the decay over the stench of their own fatigues. Nearby a large, heavily-armoured battlewagon was at a standstill. Several smaller orks and gretchin were being yelled at by a grotesquely large ork with a power klaw and an assortment of mechanical tools.
"Yer all a bunch ov useless runts! Dis here's da big bosses' personal tank, an ya done gone broken it! Youz gitz best replace dat broken tread, you over there, you go restock da ammo for da main kannon! An' you grotz go replace dat busted engine part! No, da uvva one!"
After dispensing orders, the big mek stepped inside the battlewagon through a side hatch.
Rook slid his combat knife out of its sheathe, his flamer clogged and forgotten. "What d'you say glory-boy? Wanna rob the warboss?" He grinned.
Something else caught Nathaniel's eye as dozens of warbuggies and other assorted vehicles cleared the area. About forty meters away, several orks appeared to be carrying looted weaponry and ammunition into a bombed-out storage facility. It was a straight sprint across open ground.
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