[PLOT RP] MISSION Fort Stultus

The immediate area outside Naris Capitol city
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DeMarchese
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Postby DeMarchese » Tue Apr 18, 2017 5:31 am

[[But demotions (or promotions!) and/or potential punishments can. My actions were not precisely exemplar. Therefore, I prefer to patiently wait]]

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CyGamer
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Postby CyGamer » Tue Apr 18, 2017 8:37 am

[[He wants those medals!]]

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Tue Apr 18, 2017 8:38 am

[[OOC: And Staggy just wants to get home, is that so much to ask?]]

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Richard
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Postby Richard » Mon May 01, 2017 11:30 pm

[[Hello everyone. Apologies for the long absence, and for keeping you all waiting. Adepticon and RL sucked my time and attention away badly, but not badly enough to justify keeping you waiting for so long. I will be posting every 24 hours from here on out.]]

The convoy, battered and bloodied, had returned to Naris, rushing in through the main gate, on a beeline, straight to Holt. Perray had disembarked immediately and seen to Commissar Cat's transfer to medicae, helping to lift him into the gurney-servitor, and passing on orders to the nurse to inform her of any changes to his condition. She watched him go, then turned and ordered Stagismund and De Grotto to follow her into Holt's office. Squads Phoenix and Chimeras of Fire were dispersed, to medicae, to the armory, and at last, to their barracks, for blessed sleep.

The next morning, high alert klaxons sounded throughout the main base, on the wall, and in the outposts, issuing a full mobilization order. Holt would not let the enemy gain stable footing in their stolen territory. Regiments were massing for a heavy counterattack.

Just as the attacking regiments were formed up and ready to sortie, the eastern wall of the main base came under fire from an artillery barrage, followed by an armored assault. The rebels were attacking, in greater numbers and with more support than they had ever mustered before. But the rebels had underestimated how quickly the garrison could muster for a war footing, and Holt's force was far larger and more organized than what they'd expected to encounter. The assembled regiments counterattacked, shattering the rebel advance and scattering them into the city.

It was chasing them that caused the trouble. Many rebels had retreated through the eastern gate, but more still lurked in the city in small but dangerous cells. Fortunately, much of the civilian population was hostile to rebels and Imperials alike, and would not shelter them, but there were always sympathizers. A series of street battles ensued, dangerous, slow moving, bloody, and ugly.

Two weeks passed before the work was done, and Holt, with Ordinate Anya's urging, cancelled the mission to retake Stultus. The rebels had lost this offensive and been driven to ground, but they had successfully pinned Holt's counter attack. Stultus was in the hands of the enemy, and only an overwhelming assault would retake it. They would need air power, which meant dealing with the Rogue Trader. The momentum to retake Stultus faltered, but the Guard were not done with it yet. Holt called for the officers of the Stultus mission and ordered them to assemble their squads. The put off debriefing could no longer be put off. Command would need more information before they could proceed.

And so you gather in the central courtyard, arriving from different parts of the base, one or two at a time. You all recognize each other and gather, just as the last of you arrives: Commissar Yorke, alive and marching.

Officers and Commissars, you know that you will be debriefed by squad, then hear an address by Captain Perray and Commissar Holt. Commendations are in order.

Enlisted and other non-officers, you know that you're not on the front, patrolling those bastard streets, and that is truly a blessing. You suspect your debriefing has finally come, but the official word on Stultus has been hushed, so you haven't heard much of anything concrete.

[[Go ahead and catch up, folks, and when you're all ready, we'll start the debriefing.]]

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Tue May 02, 2017 4:24 am

Speaking with the Commissar and highest Authority on Valmaria was... Uncomfortable for Stagsimus Pratextus... The Commissar indeed held a commanding presence with whatever action he was committed to. He held this aura of the Inquisition each time he made a desicion, and was authorized to execute anyone who was not helping the war effort.
Such aura and charisma usually worked on the fleshbags, not servants of the Omnissiah. But Staggy had a lot to hide, granted: he had full control over his body and remained calm to the outside but every minute of communication with this man was straining on staggy's inner protocols. When it comes to Holt: even the Machine is Weak.

Nevertheless, Stagsimus delivered all the gathered knowledge he had on the Fort status, from the Vox discrepancies, to Estimated number of Tau and even the visual data he collected through the Servo Skull and his own sensory receivers. The situation was grave and hiding useful information will be somewhat counter productive to the war effort.

And here he is in the central courtyard. Away from his private workshop in the 554th Krieg Compound, where he could work in peace and keep the Krieg Warmachine going. But noooo he had to pass a briefing like the rest of the practitioners in the operation like some Engineseer -well, he was currently acting as one now but still... he was a busy Tech Priest and just as Commissar Yorke's arm was finished, had to fix a Leman Russ Tank now for some reason... Staggy recalculated the bargain he agreed to and decided to keep the Status Quo, as long as he was operating this way, he gets to stay alive.
The Data Predator was in his Red Martian robes, the same he in which he reported to Holt, those were the black too but the importance of Stigies VII Tailoring Mastery is not important right now.
The Prototype was still in his possession though hidden inside the flaps of the robes and held by unseen mechadendrites. The Servo Skull was floating somewhere above, identifying the gathered Guardsmen and scanning for hostiles: Tau, Traitor or worse: 2nd Ryzan Skitarii Cohort...
Last edited by Johannes Wyss von Krieg on Wed May 03, 2017 12:25 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Postby Nevaraon » Tue May 02, 2017 7:18 pm

Sir Creedanfall "Croaker" Vervusius lounged lazily against a nearby wall. His shield laid propped against the same wall. His heavy warplate was freshly painted with his regiment's red and black coloring. His skull helmet hung from his belt. He glanced around wondering whether they'd debrief him or not. He hadn't seen much that wasn't already written in triplicate.

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Warsmith Wolf
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Postby Warsmith Wolf » Tue May 02, 2017 8:25 pm

Ferrum honore veniat.


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Captain Perray
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Postby Captain Perray » Wed May 03, 2017 12:38 am

"Croaker," Perray calls, and you see her approaching you.

She looks dead tired. Two weeks since Stultus, with precious little rack time between now and then. She'd driven the Cadians into the thick of it, relentlessly pursuing the enemy and mauling them badly, like they had something to prove. She'd been leading from the front, the point of Holt's counter thrust, for most of the action.

She lights a lho and takes a drag. You're pretty sure Cadians have regs against officers and smoking in front of guardsmen, but she barely seems to notice she's doing it.

"Sorry," she shrugs, "Sir Croaker. Still standing, then? You must have had a time out there, running through two or three at time, hm? Wish I'd had you. My boys all have rusty bayonets, need sharpening." She is a little over critical of her regiment's performance. The Cadians had carried off several critical bayonet charges in the street to street fighting.

She notices Stagimus and Grenadier Unit #66-A-7343/G, and waves them over. "Still alive, Stagimus, Smiley? Or were you chuckles?" She asks, grinning, though her grin falters when she realizes that "Still alive" might be insulting to Kriegers.

She pulls again on her lho to buy time, then breaks the silence with, "Mm, looks like you've had a good run at the rebels then?"
"We're Cadians. We hold the line. Any questions?"

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Wed May 03, 2017 1:13 am

Staggy looked at himself as if checking that everything is in place but is was mere gesture, he knew that everything is in place "All Systems operational, Captain. Been debating over adding a 3rd Arm but sadly Commissar Yorke disagreed... My analysis of the combat in the last weeks suggests that the Cadian contingent under your command performed exceptionally well, but the close proximity to the frontlines puts the life of one of the most capable commanders at risk. Unfortunately I cannot fabricate a Personal Force Field Generator due to lack of materials available to me, my apologies Captain." Stagsimus was not lying, he rarely ever did, but this truth was not hiding anything: Cpt Perray indeed is a capable soldier and commander that Stagsimus would prefer if stayed alive -and hasten the victory
Last edited by Johannes Wyss von Krieg on Wed May 03, 2017 12:24 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Nevaraon
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Postby Nevaraon » Wed May 03, 2017 4:43 am


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Hobbsy
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Postby Hobbsy » Wed May 03, 2017 5:35 am

Master of the Ordnance Douglas De Grotto stood at the very edge of the gathering (on purpose) with the foulest of looks upon his face. To say he was unhappy was an absolute understatement! He had resumed his usual appearance: A MKVII Ordnance vox system upon his back and and shine new black flak coat with a white front and golden trimming. It shone in the sun and had not a single blemish, but even the fine new clothes seemed to help his mood.

It wasn't the fact that he had had to attend a debriefing in his untidy and not fully dress state in front of Commissar Holt no less! Holt was on off the few people he had come to admire on this Emperor forsaken planet and seeing the man in pajama pants help him to realize it could have been worse. It wasn't even the fact that the veil traitors had attacked the base and force the Imperial forces to delay there reclamation of Fort Stultus and avenged the men and guns that had fallen there!

No... what really upset De Grotto was the lose of his watch.

That pocket watch.. the one he had carried since the accident for so long and through so main battles had been simple taken by dung heap of a man and was most likely destroyed in the cover fire of the Krieger artillery which covered there withdrawal. The fiend most likely didn't even know that it was in the coat he had stolen! To make it all the worse, he had failed to stop him from getting away with one of the last items he had to remember his dearly departed. He had been upset ever since. He was sure that Holt had razed an eyebrow at the obvious displeasure on his face, but would have most likely have put it down to De Grotto's anger towards those who had slaughtered his comrades. Since his debriefing he had been working non stop, first directing and coordinating artillery fire on and around Fort Stultus, and then pinpointing the heavy weapon fire into the rebel's armored assault. If there was any sign of fatigue, no one would probity be able to tell. Though not even this eased the pain of his lose.

When he was summoned to this new debriefing, it just served as a reminder of what had happened. He wasn't even in the mood to greet those who he had been saved with or yet offered thanks to his rescuers. He simply brooded on his own.. well, except for Wesley. Wesley had stopped playing the inbuilt music box since it only seem to upset De Grotto more at the current time, instead opting to hover in a figure of eight pattern behind it's master. Less he decided to throw him in another fit of rage...
//

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DeMarchese
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Postby DeMarchese » Wed May 03, 2017 5:55 am

Arriving at the central courtyard, Aesteban found himself with conflicted feelings.
He was emotionally reeling from his past experience. So many bad things happened that for the first time in his life, he found uncertainty. Not like the soothing ordinariness of partchments with reports and the comforting coldness of mathematics.

While the troops were gathering he found some time to muse about the relation between Anya and Holt. The commissar certainly takes advice from the Ordinate. She calmly analyze the situation and offers priceless counsel to shape the destiny of the war.
Will he ever reach that level of professional collaboration in his current relationship with captain Perray?

The clerk immediately recalled the bizarre pajama pants, secretly stored in the deepest vault of his Munitorum depot... a flash of pink light that brought shameful memories to his mind. He looked with sudden anxiety to his impeccable unifrom, ironed and starched to unreasonable extent.

Aesteban cleared his throat with a polite cough and discreetly proceeded to place himself into a lone spot, away from the main gathering of troops, feeling both uncomfortable and insecure.

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Commissar Cat
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Postby Commissar Cat » Wed May 03, 2017 8:59 am

Yorke joined the group with a considerably less jaunty approach than the first time he'd trotted across the courtyard, weeks prior. The measured pace could have been slight reluctance, or masking the pain of whatever patchwork was still hidden under his greatcoat.
The black eye and scrapes to his forehead were well on their way towards fading, simply leaving a wearier expression than usual. Consigned to desk-work as soon as he'd been able to sit upright, the commissar had the feeling that his desk was now a dumping ground for anyone who had aspirations to play hero rather than do their own paperwork.
Still in recovery, and with the other commissars out in the fray, Yorke had resorted to grabbing himself a willing assistant, who'd more than enthusiastically embraced the quiet office as a refuge from the front line fighting.

Hands shoved in his pockets, and head down slightly, Cat did his best to avoid looking at anyone in particular. Sobbing hysterically in front of his own squad-mates, and the failed objective had evidently left somewhat of a dent in the gentler commissar's confidence. His gratitudes had been expressed tenfold over the past weeks, but seeing everyone back together in one place left him feeling somewhat subdued.

Those who did catch his eye, he acknowledged with a small nod, before finding someone to subtly lean against, in an attempt not to slouch. Hearing the small cough from Aestaban, Cat raised his head slightly, and gave a sympathetic smile to the only person who had probably come away from Stultus looking less dignified than he had.

[[Sorry Johan, I'm overriding your note on Cat not having his arm back. He does.
It may need tweaking and maintaining, so there's room for dialogue in other threads, but the timeline is tenuous enough that it may never end up reattached. Two weeks is easily long enough.]]

Mordian Characters:
Others: / / /

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Johannes Wyss von Krieg
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Postby Johannes Wyss von Krieg » Wed May 03, 2017 9:03 am

[[OOC: Got it. Staggy still made this jest over adding anouther arm to brighten Perray's mood. Will fix my comment a bit. Sorry for not using OOC Thread, but this case is too specific to be understood without context]]

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CyGamer
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Postby CyGamer » Wed May 03, 2017 9:50 am

Krast was looking out over the crater ridden front, his grinning shark mouth helmet blank and imposing. Beneath it, he was sore. Not just physically, though he had been sucker punched by a traitor 4 days ago, he was exhausted mentally. 2 weeks on the frontline was nothing for a kasrkin, he'd had a tougher time in basic. But the damn Tau didn't seem to understand stalemate, constantly trying to shell them with those damn robot suits. Near constant bombing and charges took a toll.

The good part was his hearing was more or less back. The first 3 days had been the hardest, since he had Holt and other COs barking orders, and he'd just stood there like sleeping Necron. Luckily a few of his buddies had helped him out and shown him what to do. He still had a rather loud ringing from time to time, but the medics said it was just a passing effect.

He looked down and saw Perry walk in and begin chatting. He liked her, she was one of the better NCOs he'd had. Cadian born and bred. He settled back in and patted his Iho stash. No smoking on watch, lot of troops learned that the hard way. Damn thermal sensors. With an ork you didn't have to worry about them shooting you from afar. And even if they did their gun often blew up. With a sigh, he propped his feet up and tried to get some rest. He was getting too old for this.
Last edited by CyGamer on Wed May 03, 2017 10:31 am, edited 1 time in total.

Who says the future has to be grimdark? Matt Ward that's who.

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DeMarchese
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Postby DeMarchese » Wed May 03, 2017 10:19 am


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Tavor Beltarix
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Postby Tavor Beltarix » Wed May 03, 2017 11:01 am

Sergio De Santis ignored the general silence around himself. Instead, he glanced down, into a small puddle.

He couldn't help but smirk at the figure who looked back: no more a delusional madman in cardboard and stilts, now the proud eyes of a Dieprian officer met his gaze, a Commissar dressed in his olive drab stormcoat and his almost-camo uniform, much more inconspicuous than the jet black and ruby red of other Commissars. The great black feather of a Dieprian Drake-Raven adorned the hat on his bald head, the distinctive symbol of his Mountain Men. Well, of course, the sash on his belly had to be red by regulation, red as blood...

Blood. He was staring into the pool of blood left by Sergeant Manfredi, one of the thousands of familiar corpses strewn between the rubble and burning wrecks that were now the defenses of Nuova Aosta-

De Santis shook his head and averted his eyes, a chill tingling down his spine. Fuck. Two weeks may have been enough for his arm and leg to grow less stiff and for him to find his old Dieprian uniform (or piecemeal one from other Guard suits, find the paint for the stormcoat and hat and get the feather from a particularly large Narisian Owl, at any rate), but there were far, far deeper wounds that he doubted would ever heal. His returned identity came with the horrors of nearly a century of war. Yet, what could he do for the ghosts of his past? He couldn't forget... and even then, he didn't want to forget them. They deserved respect, justice, revenge. In that regard, there was one thing he could do.

Quench their thirst for Tau blood.

Still, that was a problem for later. Right now, he was awaiting debriefing from Commissar Holt... who had been kind enough to have seen him sane and fit for combat. Smart decision, of course he could fight, of course he was himself. That... cardboard parenthesis was over. Even so, Sergio had even taken a liking to the group of soldiers that he had accompanied on the way to Fort Stultus - and most of them seemed to be out there, too.

At a sudden gust of wind, Commissar De Santis wrapped his coat tighter around himself, pulled his hat down, and watched the various assortment of personnel, Guard and not, assembling in the courtyard. That weird techpriest they'd found on the way to Fort Stultus, Stagismus something, chatting with an exhausted Captain Perray, one of the eerily quiet Kriegers and Croaker, the trooper with the fancy accent who'd made a necklace out of the bullet in his arm (one Sergio hadn't taken off since his time under the Krieger Quartermaster's care). Then further off, each left in their own, pensive mood, he spotted the man with the dagger-like nose, De Grotto, sulking by himself with his servo-skull (thank the Emperor it wasn't playing that damned tune), that DeMettrio clerk with the augmetic eye, and Commissar Yorke, battered and bruised - both physically and spiritually, if his expression was anything to go by. Recent events had taken a toll on them all, it seemed...

[[OOC: YEAH! Guess who's back from a lot of high school stuff and a complete incapability of creating another character to join the other threads?]]

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SilverRuby
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Postby SilverRuby » Wed May 03, 2017 12:14 pm

It would have been a lie to assume that Cassius hated paperwork as much as the Commissar who had volun-told him did... In fact, he took to the task rather quickly- more than happy to sit on his rump and write away, filling in the piles of documents that had built up on Cat's desk while the fighting continued. A proxy-arm if you would. And it wasn't long before he'd assumed duties typing for the other, too, as the Commissar's sad, one-armed pecking on the cogitator had driven him up the wall in the confines of the small, quiet office.

But the day came, that they were summoned to the courtyard for debriefing on Stultus, and the redhead begrudgingly left the refuge of Cat's office to join the others. Not as tardy as he had been on the very first day of the mission, Vayne stood there quietly, staring at the statue at the center- he'd been somewhat pensive since returning. It still made him a little sick to remember the Krootox and its rider shredded by his gunfire, but he was relieved that everyone was able to make it back alive, if not mostly well.

The Corporal glanced around, recognizing familiar faces, and his gaze settled slightly on Commissar De Santis. It was hard to believe that that had been the man in the cardboard armor not a scant two weeks ago. Now, the elder Commissar looked completely different, respectable even... And he turned his eyes away, closing them as he carded his fingers over his belt buckle, waiting.

So, so many papers. Vayne was pretty sure his hand had already seized into a crooked hook from grasping a pen so long that he could no longer feel his fingers. Even with his eyes closed he could see the endless rows of empty fields to fill and underlines that required his signature as an appointed adjutant [signing in Cat's stead].
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Talancir
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Postby Talancir » Wed May 03, 2017 12:37 pm

[[welcome back, Tavor!]]

"Rusty bayonets?" A voice exclaimed with incredulity. An arm went over the shoulder of Captain Perray, and Andromeda's grinning mug leered into view. "That's what happens when you leave it too long between cleanings and stabbings."

Epilochias Maheras waved at everyone. "Hi guys! Glad to see everyone's here! By the way, ma'am," she continued, leering over at Joyca Perray, "I've been meaning to ask you..."

She cupped a hand over Captain Perray's ear, but said in a precise non-whisper, "just what was he wearing, anyway? Did you find out?"

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Warsmith Wolf
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Postby Warsmith Wolf » Wed May 03, 2017 2:00 pm

Ferrum honore veniat.



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