[OW/X - Tau]: Operation Fireknife (IC Thread)

[Trokair]

The flicker of the door control light revealed that there was power in this section of the wreck, but the door remained stubbornly shut. Monat briefly wondered if the door had been barricaded from the inside, which would shift the balance of probability towards survivors rather than ambushers.

 

With the flow of power there was however one more option before she would have to force the door manually. Using the suit sub AI system to interface with the door control the simple electronics of the door responded with a security cipher request. A potential stumbling block, but the mission briefings data had included detailed information on the Wavestrider, including security ciphers.

 

Letting the suit transmit the relevant clearance she pressed the door release one more time.  

[Mazer Rackham]

Monat:

 

There's an altogether mortal gasp, and as your light-warping chameloid shape is revealed in the threshold, you are suddenly buffeted by something from the side, by repeated, jabbing blows.  Your HUD registers chemicals and fluids smearing your visor, the implement is broad and soft, even if the assault itself is quite vigorous.

 

As the pounding moves to your chest and shoulder plating, you can see an adolescent Tau female in civilian clothes.

 

She continues to batter you with her formidable...mop?

 

"Get away from me!"

 

She is quite obviously terrified, and even though armed with a cleaning tool, her panic makes her dangerous.

[Machine God]

Tony Keys

 

Trapped in a crashed ship with two killer birds behind him. 

 

They're on you own side now Tony Keys told himself. Psycho-conditioning or not, he didn't still trust them.

 

Killers behind him and now the prehistoric dread creeps into the mind.

 

Tony Keys' prior training in the Imperial Guard jolted him to the present - by the numbers soldier!

 

Tony pumped two shots into the lead attacker.

 

BS 36 + 10 (SAB) - 10 (Small target) = 36. Result: 03, Pass 3DoS. Combat Shotgun 1d10+9 4 Pen. 03 = 30 = Left Arm.

Shot 1: 4 + 9 = 13 Damage (Left Arm)

Shot 2: 3 + 9 = 12 Damage (Left Arm)

 

"Come get some!"

 

(Clip 16/18)

[Mazer Rackham]

Tony Keys:

 

Dodge: Offscreen.

 

Just a note going forward - if your shots would hit Leg, then Leg and the target has multiple legs (in this case six!) then you may apply damage to different leg unless you have the talent that 'glues' you to the leg.  So in this instance Tony Keys has blown to legs off!  You meanie!

 

The shotgun burps out two thumps of shot, crunching into the speedily moving metal legs.  As the thing scutters forward, the cloth covering flapping, the Gue'Vesa catches it in the knee of one of it's left legs, his rapid follow-up sending pellets into the actuators of the second.  It barely manages to cling on, but it does so, precariously swinging from its four remaining feet.  The head, complete with baleful red eye maintains the fixed stare on you, head and neck joints pivoting madly to offset the violent disruption.

 

Sparks and smoke erupt from the body, and the blade fingers flicker rapidly, as though frustrated it is not burying them in your throat.

 

There is more buzzing, but this time it sounds faster, edged with something.  Maybe it is anger - or urgency.

[Beren]

Oilbloods!

 

The word roars into Targykex's mind along with the shrieking threat reaction that came with the predatory cyborgs' assault. Flat-faces who cut away their flesh in favour of steel. They left little to consume, and what remained was difficult to reach and often tainted by the exotic substances they imbibed. Admirable, for the way they forced their hands to adapt even without his people's gift. Pitiable, for they cut themselves off from the kindred, from having their strength be preserved by them.

 

Too little flesh for his toxins to touch. Ways of seeing his camoflage couldn't counter.

 

Such are Targykex's thoughts. But the threat response is dominant. It is this far more primitive instinct that twitches his claw against the trigger, sending a hail of metal shards and the one not damaged by Tony Keys.

 

Quick on its feet for a flat face, that one.

 

 

Full Auto Assault on the undamaged mech individual.

 

BS39 + 20 = 59

d100 = 31 (2 DOS = 3 hits)

1d10+3 = 9,9 = 9

1d10+3= 12, 13 = 13

1d10+3= 13,4 = 13

 

d100: 67 Body

d100: 78 Right Leg

d100: 50 Body

 

Pen 3

 

Clip 12/20

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Targykex:

 

Dodge: Offscreen.

 

Not to be outdone by the beakless one beside you, your deadly bolts clatter-whistle past him, to catch the other machine-killer approaching just as swiftly as the first.  Whilst your weapon is not as brash, and your demeanour not as braying, your bolts physical capability is respectable.

 

The oilblood - perhaps warned or anticipating your weapon the metal-murderer manages to evade one of your bolts, but the rest strike true, snapping the spindly leg and fixing it through the torso.  It gives out an angry bleep, which you get the impression is quite offensive, before it begins to glow.

 

The metal goes red, then golden, then white hot, before it explodes with a blinding flash and the force of a small fragmentation grenade.

 

In the darkness of the corridor, blink two more red eyes, moving separately...quickly...closing.

 

Murder-bot on the ceiling: Half Action regain footing

Half-Action: Charge towards the hapless Human (15m)

Edited February 10, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

Taking a step back out of the reach of the mop Monat disengaged the stealth field.

 

“For Tau’va, calm yourself.”

 

After a moment’s pause Monat started up a meditative mantra, hoping that even if the exact form of this Sio’t mantra  was unknown to the errant civilian that the sound of a familiar tongue and gentle words would help her regain her senses. Monat kept the speakers set to low as she spoke so that her voice would not carry or echo deeper into the ship where it could alert hostiles.

[Mazer Rackham]

Monat:

 

The revelation you are kin - even one divorced by thick armour and Tau technology, seem to crack the shell of panic, and the mantras trigger contrition for what society could deem an outrageous breach of protocol.

 

"I...I am sorry Fire Warrior," she bows, chin tucked to chest.

 

You can see the pink-purple of bruised and scratched flesh.  Her hands are also cut and battered.  The room is small and full of crates, most securely latched but there are no gravity harnesses in here, so a rough landing would have tossed her around.  Indeed, a scrap of cloth from her simple robes is caught on a shelf corner, indicating her tumble.

 

Whoever put her in here knew what they were doing.  There is ample stored water and battle rations in their cases.

 

She has not yet recovered from the Stance of Atonement, standing half bent over, awaiting your judgement for her social indiscretion.  This alone means she is of a different caste, and likely of low rank.

[BadgersinHills]

Jaq'Arn recognises the type of blades the beast bore, bringing back memories of her fellow Kroot falling in great numbers before these weapons. The warriors who carried them, the transhumans, had left an impression on her. Strong warriors. worthy of being eaten. 

 

She could tell this thing was lesser than them, though it had the potential to be deadly. As it charges Tony, she aims to fell the beast before it kills him. 

 

She fires at the creature.

 

36 + 20 = 56.

Rolled 73 on d100, missed with 1 DoF.

 

Not sure what to add to my BS, so sorry if it's wrong!!

 

[Mazer Rackham]

No worries Badgers - you've got the addon right (+10 for aim, +10 for short Range = 20, but the target is small, so -10 for a miss by 2 DoF, but it's cool).

 

Jaq'Arn:

 

The metal horror is fast - faster than you realised.  Despite a decent shot at the scampering slasher, it turns at the last moment and the high-energy round spanks from the plating where it would have been.  Now only a handful of Tol'kan'a from the human, the other two race on behind, to bring their hard, deadly blades closer to supple meat.

 

Just a note that the corridor is so close, I will waive the need to have each target within 3m to allocate Semi-auto and Full Auto hits to them.  In mechanical/ballistic terms, think of this in Minutes of Angle, where the targets may appear side by side, but one is five feet behind the other - enough so that a burst of shots would hit both anyway, regardless of distance.

 

Does that make sense?

Edited February 12, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

With a gesture Monat indicated that the apology was accepted, this was not the time for high formality.

 

“Name?” she asked, there were more important questions, but starting here would help the other regain more composure.

[Mazer Rackham]

Monat:

 

She stands up, wincing as she does so, rubbing her left side.  "I am Por-Saal, Dalyth'An'Rho Mon'Wer'nat."

 

Tidying up her robes, she snatches a clasp from her belt, bundling her long black hair into a frayed rope of jet.

 

"I prefer An'Rho," she says quietly.  "How shall I address you, Warrior?"

[Trokair]

Monat was glad to be in the suit where the civilian could not see her reaction, there might not be time for the full intercast etiquette but there was still discipline and standards. For now Monat ignored the over familiarity and put it down to stress of the situation, or a concussion give how much she must have been thrown around during the crash.  

 

“Saal’An’Rho, do you know if there are any other survivors? We are searching the ship and there may be hostiles, have you seen any?”

[Mazer Rackham]

Monat:

 

Her attention retreats from you, staring at something through the wall, in the distance.

 

"Metal on metal, the sounds of rattling and red eyes in the dark, noble Fire Warrior.  Shouting in a tongue I do not know," she folds her arms, holding herself and rubbing her shoulders.  "My uncle brought me here.  He closed the door...there," she licks her lips, a frown pinching the olfactory chasm, "was a crash, then....I...I fell and woke only a Dec or so hence you came."

 

In silence for a few heartbeats, her thoughts seem to circle as she becomes agitated again.  "My uncle!  He must be somewhere in the ship, I must find him!"

[Machine God]

Tony Keys

 

"You can fight?," The female Kroot had asked him earlier.

 

 

Tracking the runaway drone of doom that scuttled relentlessly towards him, Tony Keys shifted his aim.

 

Tony pumped a further two shots into his target, hitting two more legs.

 

 

BS 36 + 10 (SAB) - 10 (Small target) = 36. Result: 08, Pass 2DoS. Combat Shotgun 1d10+9 4 Pen. 08 = 80 = Right Leg.

Shot 1: 4 + 9 = 13 Damage (Right Leg)

Shot 2: 8 + 9 = 17 Damage (Right Leg)

 

"Yes I can fight, Jaq'Arn!" Tony Keys said in Low Gothic.

 

(Clip 16/18)

 

 

 

 

 

Edited March 18, 2023 by Machine God
Tidy up

[Mazer Rackham]

Tony Keys:

 

As if to prove your point, the three members of your immediate team are showered in metal confetti from the blasted bot.

 

As Tony pumps his shotgun, the other bots hurry onwards.

 

Two left.

[Trokair]

“The hostiles were on board before the crash?”

 

If there were survivors she did not appear to know about it, and if she only regained consciousness recently then she probably needed further medical attention.  

 

“If he is still onboard we will find him” Monat reassured her, not adding that alive was not a given in the present circumstances.

 

“For now you should stay here, this is a defensible room and you will be safer here then out there.”

[Mazer Rackham]

Monat:

 

An'Rho's face is a mask of concentration and headache both.  "Yes noble Fire Warrior, there was a crash, a moment before we lost all power.  A thump on the port side, amidships.  I thought we hit something, then the noise started."

 

She looks up to your sensor pod, with it's bright lenses, and shudders.  "I was in the galley with my learned uncle, the emergency lights came on, then a sound like rocks being chewed by an Ursi'cata'n."

 

"We ran with everyone else, behind us, red eyes, charging through the darkness."

 

She realises you intend to seal her in, and drops to her knees, clutching one of you armoured limbs.  "Please noble Warrior, I am sorry about striking you - please do not leave me here alone, would you have me locked in here to suffocate or starve?"

 

She is a Water Caste.  Her training, even though slight at her Rank, would give her the Gift of Tongues.  Please make an Opposed Willpower Test.

Charm Attempt:

Fel: 40, (Trained)

D100: 27 Pass, Plus 1 DoS.

[Beren]

Targykex snarls as the flatface's fire brings the second of the oilbloods down, but two more were hurtling at them. He keeps his talon depressed on the trigger, sending filling the way with a flurry of metal shards that skitter of the floors, wall, ceiling... but not the oilbloods which careened around in some kind of new evasive pattern.

 

BS39 + 20 = 59
d100 = 63 (No hits)

[Trokair]

“This is a Shas Cast matter, and you will follow our directives.”

 

Feeling that this might be a bit too abrupt for the young Saal, even though time was tight, Monat elaborated.

 

“Should the situation change and it becomes a Por Cast matter we will defer to your or your kin’s advice, but for now you must listen. There is food and water in these crates, and the presence of power means that the air scrubbers will be function; you will neither starve nor suffocate. The door will be closed but not locked.”

 

Shaking her off and making a show of readying the rail rifle to emphasise the danger Monat stepped back out into the corridor. The suits sub-AI triggered the door for her, and as it closed and the the stealth field started up once more, Monat turned back to face An’Rho.

 

“There are likely hostiles onboard, and my fellow team members may be in danger. If your hear nothing from us in two Decs assume we are slain and remain hidden, additional rescue teams will come in time.”

 

Monat was not actually sure of the latter, but if they were slain by the hostile then a civilians best, if slim, chance at survival was to remain hidden, rescue or no rescue.

[Mazer Rackham]

Tony/Targykex/Jaq'Arn:

 

The kill-bots undertake evasive scuttling to avoid the deadly bolts, as though they have learned from the experience of the others...

Full Action: Charge 15m, Targets (Left) and (Right) are in the ground/deck, now 25m away.

 

 

Monat:

 

An'Rho's face falls, her plea heard but not heeded.  She withdraws from you, and sits down in the corner of the room, pulling her knees up under her chin and wrapping her arms round them, hugging as much of herself as she can.  She looks small, a little girl out of her depth.

 

"It will be as you say Fire Warrior, Tau'va guide you."

 

She looks at the floor as the door closes, and you are alone in the passageway once more.

 

All:

 

"This is R'nan, kkkrrtrtzz, we are...resistance...kzzzrtzzt.   Multip-kzkzkzrrrt."

Edited February 15, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

+It's no tea party where we are either, R'nan+ muttered Tony Keys.

[Mazer Rackham]

Tony Keys:

 

"Move...kzzzrrtz arse, Gue'Vesa kzzrtzzkkk...rendez-vous...living area.  Wounded-kzzrtzttz.  Hurry!"

 

You can hear rapid pulse rifle fire in the background to the message.  Carbine shots score a slightly higher pitch as K'yosha's gun drones also contribute their support.

[Trokair]

Continuing on towards the Wavestrider’s living quarters Monat hoped she was not too late, it had already been some time since Vre’R’nan had called for aid.

 

Given the coms disruption within the hull there was little point in trying to update the others on the survivor she found, that could wait. She did however direct the suits sub-AI systems to compile a brief information dump on the location of An’Rho, the information gathered and updated annotation on the map schematic of the ship in the area she had covered as to damage, blockage, power and such. If she got into trouble and would not make it then the information could still be sent.  

[Mazer Rackham]

Monat:

 

As your jetpack hurtles you forward, you make your way through passageways that deform from standard thanks to increasing damage.  It is not hard to see the plating on wall, floors and ceiling scorched and seared by pulse-weapon fire, plasma scoring.  Magazines and even loose pulse shotgun cartridges litter the ground in thick handfuls, showing a fallback position here, a strongpoint there.  Blood slick stains the corridors in arcs, the fall of a butchers' blade.  Cuts and gouges crease the panels, lending to that conclusion.

 

It is around the next corner you find your first bodies.  Seven of them.  All Tau Fire Warriors, they are in a pile of mangled and lacerated flesh - literally cut to ribbons, the combat armour rent apart with deadly claws.  Their weapons lie scattered, empty, your sensors detecting no munitions within.  They fought to the last round.

 

At the end of this corridor your threat system activates, red tracking reticules locking on to crimson orbs, floating in the darkness.  Perhaps these are the red-eyes in the shadow An'Rho spoke of.  Human in construction, yet a blasphemy of man and machine, the murder-bots perceive...something.  They turn and scuttle down the corridor - searching.

 

Your chameleonic membranes have deceived them.

 

For now.

 

You are confronted with two murder-bots in the grisly act of piling corpses.  They are 40m from your current position, both on the ground (Left and Right).  They have not detected you, but the thermal exhaust of your engine, however, their augurs cannot pinpoint you against the background 'noise'.  You gain Surprise.

 

The living quarters are a section beyond these drones.  (Another turn or so).

 

It's Badgers/Jaq'Arn next, but Tro/Monat may respond as they wish due to being apart from the team.

Edited February 16, 2022 by Mazer Rackham