>Sorry for the abrupt end to the last one, I’ll try and do a decently lengthy one today and a long one on Saturday.You are Tristan Aphesius Scathach, ensign of the Imperial Navy, and you’ve got a squig on your head. Its distended maw is clamped around the armored helmet of your Mark XXVI void suit, and the giant red tongue is just getting its mucus-like drool all over your facemask, which is starting to creak under the pressure.>[ ] Shake your head like a wet dog.>[ ] Put the gun to your head and blow it off.>[ ] Saw it off with your chainsword.
>[X] Saw it off with your chainsword.
You’re not particularly comfortable with pointing the large-caliber naval pistol to your head, so you decide to saw it off with your chainsword. It’s a little hard to bring the long duelist-pattern blade up as the squig thrashes on your head, but you bring it down hard on the disgusting little thing, slicing into its pinkish flesh with a gristly whirr. The squig flinches and lets go of your armored head, dropping to the deck half-cut, and you quickly stab at the blurry pink blob, ending its life.You hastily scrape your armaglass facemask and see an Ork leaping down from the assault boat onto a pile of gretchins, smushing one in the process. That’s really the only word you can think of to describe the weird spongy-squishy-liquid explosion that accompanies the Ork’s landing, though the squad of gretchin just seem to laugh. Another one looks jumps down, this time landing with a clang on the metal deck of the command console as the first starts swinging a wicked-looking swordchuck and pointing at you. “OY! LET’S MOVE!” Elim’s shout fills your helmet as it erupts from the suit’s short-ranged vox, and you glance behind you to seem him running towards the explosion-proof bunkers at the turret’s main hatch, where a crowd of voidsmen are still trying to shove their way in. In front of you are three Orks now, one wielding a swordchuck like a threshing flail, one slapping a brutal-looking mace into the callused scars of its palm, and one pulling out two red throwing stars that look like they were made from the teeth they decorate their “ships” with. Oh, and nine screaming, charging gretchin with curved, rusty knives.>What do?>[ ] Run to the armored bunkers; there’s a shotgun there you can use/>[ ] Pick them off at range then cut into them with your sword.>[ ] Other?
>>19483102We've bought them enough time to fortify, it's time to get to the bunker and get a shotgun.
You know you can outrun the stubby-legged gretchin and turn away from them, running for one of the bunkers. Designed to withstand macrocannon explosions and hostile boarders (or mutineers), these weirdly primitive orks shouldn’t pose a threat to you there. Of course, as you think that, a light buzzing sound fills your helmet. >roll 1d20
rolled 16 = 16>>19483146That seems like a bad buzzing sound.
hell yeah, battlefleet quest. Nice. Though buzzing sounds are bad. I hope it isnt a psyker... Because those orks seem like some weird sord of wild orks to me, and they have lots of weirdboys
>Look for this quest monday after not being able to play on sunday/saturday due to weekend>It's on today>Oh, I have to go help someone moveStick around, you magnificent bastard.
It is a bad buzzing sound. As you drop to the floor, you see one of the red throwing stars race over your head, spinning so fast that it looks like a solid red circle. It slams into one of the metal buttresses that reinforce the turret walls, cutting nearly halfway into it before stopping. You look back and see the gretchins are getting into jumping range, while the Ork with the throwing stars has thrown another one at you. And in the background, you can see more Orks starting to leap from the assault boat, along with a pile of squigs.You’re not going to stick around out here.Outrunning the gretchin and dodging another throwing star, you skid into the bunker and slam the metal hatch shut. The voidsmen have three shotguns in hand and are firing them out of the narrow rockcrete slit at the gretchin squad, splattering the turret with their blood. The rest are armed with their fists and maintenance tools. A fourth shotgun is passed to you by Mr. Ables, your gun chief. In all, you have around one hundred and sixty voidsmen, with four shotguns, a naval pistol and a chainsword between them.
>>19483249Sorry about that; 4chan wouldn't let me post at all on Monday so it got pushed to Tuesday. Hopefully this will be a longer thread.>>19483251“What’s it look like out there, Mr. Ables?”“Well sir, theres more of the proper orks out now, about six all told. One of ‘ems almost as big as the nob you took on last week, and he’s a weird one. All done up in reptilian skin and wearing a pole with ork heads on it. Theres a whole bunch of the runt things too, the big-mouthed ones.” The buzzing of a throwing star starts to echo in the bunker and the voidsmen duck as one of them slams into the rockcrete just above the firing slit.>Got a plan in mind?
>>19483278Well, I wish we had more shotguns, we can't take advantage of an entrenched position without enough fire arms. Soften the Orcs up with these with a focus the throwing star one and the Nob looking one. Once those guys are weak or dead we can issue a charge and finish them off.
>>19483251Shit, thats not good, ask if anyones a good shot, give him the shotgun, Tristan should be the only one in here able to use a chainsword and pistol to full potential, and we need all the gunners we can get.If we havn't already done so in the last thread, either report the situation to the bridge yourself, or have elim do it, to keep our hands free to deal with the orks.Check ammunition supplies for the shotguns, if we dont have much order the men to only shoot at orks if they are close enough and not waste ammo on the gretchin or squigs, they cant do much to us in here if they dont have heavy weapons. Some unarmed ones should also keep a watch all around the bunker for orks with heavy weapons or flamers, and IMMEDIATELY inform the others if one is closing in. Then all weapons fire on that ork.
“Get the shotguns to the men who can use them best, and get the ones without them to keep an eye out for flamers. I don’t want to turn out like an Emperor’s Day roast.” You bark out orders as you take off the drool-covered helmet of your void suit, checking for damage. Luckily, apart from the stink and the mucus, it looks like you won’t be dying of decompression anytime soon. “On it, Sir.” Your gun chief directs his crew as efficiently as you can expect, and though they seem a little shaken they jump to their duties. “Mr. Ables, weren’t you telling me that you hunt as a hobby? How would a shotgun feel to you?”“Be perfectly capable sir.” You toss your shotgun over to the mutton chop-wearing gun chief, who follows you up to the firing slit and picks off one of the squigs rampaging towards the bunker. The shotgun is loaded with the fragmenting shells that proved SO effective against the nob, rather than the solid slugs you’ve loaded into your pistol, so you know it’ll take sometime for them to make a mark on the orks.“Any word on those armsmen?” You ask as you peer out of the firing slit. The squigs are being driven towards your bunkers, and you can see the flashes of shotgun fire coming from Elim’s bunker. The assault boat finally seems to have stopped spewing them, but the orks seem to be hanging back, clustering around the nob with the pole. You can see it now, and it truly is weird. Its rags are iridescent skin of some sort, branded with weird ork symbols. The pole is a gnarled and twisted piece of metal, and the skulls that hang from it are a mix of gretchin and ork, stabbed onto rusty spikes.
>>19483477Shit, I think we got a weirdboy here. I believe standard the Shadowrun doctrine applies here, GEEK THE MAGE. Take our pistol and shoot at the fucker, and when the people with the shotguns have free shots and aren't under a flood of Gretchens and Squiq fire a few shots at him.
>>19483477“None. We’ve been seeing some movement on the other side of the main hatch, but they say there’s orks all over the ship this time.” Another shotgun blast takes down two squealing squigs, that are set upon by their fellows. The bangs and racking of the guns fill the bunker, making it hard for you to hear the gun chief’s response.A bone-chilling howl cuts through all that, as the last of the squigs explodes in a shower of gore and guts. The orks on the command console are aglow with unearthly green light and seem to be expanding in size and girth. They gnash their teeth and wave their weapons in the air as the weird ork lifts its pole up.
>>19483569You’ve met psykers before and aren’t as intimidated by them as the average Imperial officer, but even to you this looks horrifying. The green light seems to saturate everything, and you can almost pick out a smell of fungal rot and jungle moistness, even in our void suit. The men around you have it much worse, and some of them start breaking down and crying. Mr. Ables clutches the shotgun close to his chest and grimaces.“That’s unholy, that is. Xenos warpcraft, the very worst.” You can hear the treble in his voice, but you don’t have a chance to respond.The ork psyker points its staff at the bunker, seemingly at you, and barks out an order. The others turn towards you, their eyes lit with orange fire, and roar. A roar that reverberates through the ceramite plates and flak sheathing of your void suit, past the armaglass facemask, into your very bones. It speaks to some primal terror, some fear that your primate ancestors had of the great beasts of the jungle and plains, and the voidsmen break into a panic. Those without guns start piling against the hatch, struggling to get it open, to escape the bunker, while the others, like Mr. Ables, start firing wildly out of the hatch.> [ ] Intimidate the men back into line. Roll 1d20.> [ ] Inspire the men to stand their ground. Roll 1d20.> [ ] Anything else?
rolled 1 = 1>>19483477Make a note to self to file a request for more shotguns in the macrocannon bunkers, and try to get the weapons your men get assigned solid slugs for the Rest of this anti-Ork campaign...Otherwise, take a look if you can't chance a shot on the bosslooking ork. If you hit, at least he will get angry, and will have less time to plot your doom...Rolling a 1d100 just in case you want to pick up on this.
>>19483581We can do that.
rolled 8 = 8>>19483581OMG i did not want... Serves me right for posting so late. I hope it doesnt count since its a d100Anyways, we have up to now been a rather nice boss, and i think they are more terrified of the psyker than us, so we should try inspiring.Also, shoot at the psyker, break his concentration
rolled 16 = 16>>19483574> [X ] Inspire the men to stand their ground. Roll 1d20.Also shoot the fucker in the head. Men, stand your ground. THIS is your duty, we live in the void and we hold the line against all who would threaten the Imperium. For the sakes of your families, HOLD THIS LINE.
>>19483581Roll to hit the weirdboy.
rolled 20 = 20>>19483665I cant suck a third time!"Take that you warpspawned groxsucker! Thats how we do it in the IMPERIAL NAVY!
rolled 3 = 3>>19483704>>19483581My faith in tgdice has been restored
This isn’t the time to worry about it, but you decide that you need to have a talk with the Master of Arms. This is the second time in as many weeks that you’ve been boarded and sent your voidsmen to the bunkers while waiting for the ship’s armsmen to arrive. “MEN!” You use the short-ranged vox to amplify your voice, cutting through the roar of the orks outside. “Stand your ground!” Most of those not at the hatch turn to look at you, fear on their faces.“THIS is our duty, we who live in the void! We must hold the line, against all who would threaten the Imperium!” Though the eerie green light fills the bunker and the orks rage outside, and the shotguns continue at a breakneck pace, the voidsmen are no longer flinching or running. They look up to you, gripping their improvised weapons. “For the sake of your families, for the sake of all mankind, HOLD THIS LINE!” You point your pistol out through the firing slit, sighting on ork psyker. The entire group of them is charging down now, all looking larger than the nob you took down, pockmarked with shot. You have one chance to get this right. You pull the trigger.The slug slams into the psyker’s right eye, erupting in a geyser of green goop. You can see its head deform as the slug ricochets around inside its thick skull, small bumps and ridges erupting across its greenskin skull. The otherworldy light starts to fade, and the orks seem to shrink. Perhaps they only looked bigger to you and your men, your minds clouded with psyker magic.
>>19483805Awesome."And so does the Emperor guide the hand of those that do not break in the face of terror. Do not loose faith! Beat them back!"Open up with all we have on those orks.
>>19483805“And so does the Emperor guide the hands of the courageous! Do not lose faith! BEAT THEM BACK!” You yell out, running over to the closed hatch. With a roar, the men wrestle the bunker’s hatch open and pour out, guns and tools and fists in hand. The orks had slowed in their charge as the psyker magic receded, and as your men stream out of the bunker they start to back off. Their faces, if you can read their xenos expressions correctly, look like ones of shock and fear. You’ve never seen an ork make that face, but then, these weren’t like any ork you’d faced before. But faced with battle, they yell defiantly and charge forward, swinging their weapons wildly.An ork pulps one of the voidsmen alongside you with a mace as Elim charges out of his bunker at the head of a host of his voidsmen. You swing your double-sided chainsword at the ork’s meaty arms, slicing through one then the other. The ork is stunned for a second, and you kick it down to the deck, allowing your voidsmen to swarm it with their wrenches and hammers and fists. “Don’t let me take all the credit this time, alright?” You call out over the vox as Elim’s men join the fight.
>>19483923By the time the damage control team arrives, your men are already reloading the macrocannons and you and Elim are standing at the command console, underneath the small hull breach made by the assault boat. The mess of ork bodies gives them pause, but they swiftly set up a gantry over your position. On the auspex, you can see that the situation has changed greatly since you were boarded. The swifter Cobra destroyers have run rings around the ork ships, disabling the kroozer and sending the remaining ork escort into the planetary rings. The roks are still firing at you, but without the kroozer to tow them they’re sitting ducks. Meanwhile, the cloud of ork strike craft are being thinned out by a squadron of Imperial fighters that has joined you, and you can see four system monitors as well as two Sword frigates approaching the battlefield.“This is the captain, to all hands. You all know the reputation that we have. Incompetent, lazy, cowardly. Well let’s prove them wrong, here and now. Before the garrison fleet gets here, let’s purge these orks from this star system!” >Is there a target you want to focus on?
>>19484031So the only things left for us to shoot are Roks and the strike kraft? Fire on the Roks, we can't miss, aim for the most vulnerable points.
>>19484031It would be nice to take credit for the destruction of a krooza, but since its already disabled it would look like gloryhunting to shoot at it.Roks are bad, extremely tough and hard to disable with single shots. Leave them to the torpedos if there are better targets, like, for example a passing ork escort with its shields down, those we can destroy with a lucky shot. Preferably in its rear or side.
You coordinate with sub-lieutenant Sakai and the fire control officer on the bridge and begin bombarding the nearest Ork rok, targeting the structural weak points pinpointed by the CT-381’s auspex. Unfortunately, roks are fairly tough and you don’t do much damage before the ork escort returns, pouncing on your destroyer from the auspex-blinding rings. Taking the initiative, you open fire on the escort. Turret Five, on the port aft, opens fire at almost the same time.>Roll 1d20 to hit.
rolled 18 = 18>>19484195Open fire, FOR THE EMPEROR.
>>19484219Yessssss
Your shots punch through what remains of the ork’s void shields and pound the escort’s ramshackle form. The shots of Turret five strike something that might have been a fuel container, setting off a massive explosion of heat that nearly obscures the target from the auspex. You and Turret five get into a race, trying to land the critical blow as the ship rocks beneath your combined assault.>Roll again, see who kills it.
rolled 16 = 16>>19484257Friendly competition, no matter who wins the Emperor wins and we'll make sure to get drinks with Turret Five.
rolled 2 = 2>>19484257We can do this Men! 5 Has gotten a Fine hit, we dont want to stray behind them!
>>19484278I also second the idea of sharing the success with Turret Five. We're all in this for the Emperor after all, our own ambitions are secondary.
Thanks to your study of Rosey’s gunnery book, you aim better than Ensign Valdemeer and manage to make the final shot, puncturing the escort’s main drive and sending it into a catastrophic explosion. The shouts and cheers of the turret crew are overlayed with the sound of the repair crew sealing the hull breach, but it’s still the best sound you’ve ever heard.“Looks like Valdemeer’s going to be buying us drinks!” Elim slaps you on the back. “Nice job there! Looks like Rosey’s book paid off for you!”“Ha, well that’s what I get for studying. Let’s go and spend some script with Valdemeer after this, huh? Be a gracious winner and all.” You smile back at your friend, who nods eagerly.“Sure thing! Our first kill something to celebrate, after all!” Of course, the battle isn’t over yet. The roks are slowly taken apart by a mix of torpedoes and macrocannon fire, but the kroozer falls to your shots, once again penetrating the ork ship’s armored heart. It looks like you’ll be getting a lot of drinks tonight.As the nuclear fire fades and the garrison fleet comes alongside your squadron, you’re interrupted by a vox transmission routed by communications.
>>19484426Answer the vox, hopefully it isn't another fleet of enemies to deal with.
>>19484426This escort squadron is hardcore as fuck. Took out loads of roks, a krooza and some escorts on itself. Why are we on patrol duty again?
>>19484478Some got tossed here for incompetence, you can look at the exploding Aquila for reference, but a lot of people got tossed here because we pissed someone with more political power off.
>>19484478Well, without a good squadron leader we'd be less effective. Plus it's made up of a combination of novices and leftovers that Battlefleet doesn't want to deal with. >>19484426You decide to answer the vox, thinking that it might be a congratulations from the captain. At the least, something from sub-lieutenant Sakai wouldn’t be out of place.“Congratulations on your first ship kill!” It’s sub-lieutenant Arys, or rather, your friend Henrietta. Her Blue Line squadron must’ve been on patrol with the garrison fleet squadron now alongside. As a superior officer and second-in-command of a squadron of Furies, she should know better than to use the vox for unofficial communications like this. But her sentiment is welcome.>What attitude do you take?
>>19484503Well, our reputation is gonna rise after this battle, i am sure of that. Who knows, maybe our Cobra will even get a name`?
>>19484527A casual one, she's congratulating us no need to be rude.Thank her for the congratulations, make sure to spread some of the glory to our men, tell her how we blew a hole in the head of an Ork psyker.
>>19484527Be pleasant but quick about it. Not offensive "kthxbai" but 'thanks you where awesome as well but lets talk to you after this is over or we could get in the shit'.If we are feeling swagtastic, then ask her out for a drink with you. Or just get her crew to come have a few drinks with yours.
>>19484581We should probably do the second, drinks all around and it gives us a chance to talk with her while not seeming too date like to everyone else.
>>19484581I second this. And i think we shouldnt start arranging dates over battlevox. Might get us in trouble if someones listening in (and of course someones listening in, its the Imperium!) We seem to be a walking rulebook on battlefleet regulations, throw one in if we can.
>>19484581This, maybe try to point out that using this channel right now is going to get you in the shitter without actually rebuking her.If the opportunity arises invite her to join your crew for the celebrations.Also, are we drinking just with other officers or with the whole cohort of voidsmen? I feel like our men deserve it, but it might go strongly against protocol.
“Thanks. You can’t see it, but my mouth won’t stop smiling right now.” You’re happy about the vox, you’ll admit, but it’s pretty counter-regs to tie up the vox systems during a battle, or even right after. Still, you’re not going to complain. Much.“The vox channels are going to be pretty crowded soon, so why don’t we talk about the battle in person? We’ll probably be stuck here patching up the damage for a bit, and the junior officers are going to be having a celebratory get-together. Interested in joining us?”“Ah!” Sounds like she realized what she was doing. “Sure, let’s talk later. I’ll find out which dock you’re headed to and meet you there. Blue Line Two, out.”It turns out that CT-384 and -385, members of your squadron, took a pounding from the kroozer and will need to be patched up before attempting warp travel. CT-382 is still suffering from an Ork infestation and your armsmen are being sent over to help clear the destroyer. The squadron will need to spend more time in the Vyan’s Wall system before continuing the patrol.
>>19484788As the destroyer docks at the Yonnus Orbital, you finally stand down battle stations. The piles of ork remains will need to be gathered and incinerated, but since you’re going off duty you don’t really care. You do see Elim prying out an Ork tusk from one of the beasts he killed though, and wonder whether you should take another trophy.
>>19484824I say no. The only one we killed personally was a psyker, we dont want any body parts of an ork psyker in our sleeping room.Bad mojo.
>>19484824Check out the corpse of the Weirdboy, it is our kill after all and there might be something worth looting there. Though we should steer clear of clearly heretical items though.
>>19484824It'd probably be a bad idea to take anything from the weirdboy, just in case.So we'll have to suffice with the stories of us bravely standing up, looking like the Emperor himself was guiding our aim as we took a single shot and destroyed the vile creature. We won't have to pay for drinks for a month.
>>19484652Keep it separate but offer your crew some really good drinks and give them a speech about how awesome they are then go have a drink with the officers.If you get a chance to hit it off with the other chick then go for it, if not be sure to acknowledge the commander of the other gun emplacement, send the officers/voidsmen some booze.
I retract my earlier comment. Bad mojo is bad.Free drinks and recognition are more than enough.
On second thought, the idea of keeping a psyker body part next to your chest is a little less enticing than you thought. The mound of ork bodies makes for an excellent podium, however. “Voidsmen, I salute you. Today you proved to the Emperor Himself that no xenos could overcome you. I am proud to have fought alongside you today. The masters of this ship will know of your heroism, I will make sure of it.” The cheers are almost as loud as the ones they made after killing the escort. As you step down, you see the remains of the weirdboy. The reptilian robes it wore are scorched and torn, but they still shimmer beautifully. The staff lying next to them also catches your eye; it seems to be made of adamantium, somehow corroded and aged. Surely there can’t be any harm in picking one of these up…>Roll for resistance.>Roll for luck.
rolled 13, 10 = 23>>19484988Nononono, don't TOUCH THE FREAKY STAFF. Consult an expert before even touching it with a 10 foot pole.
>>19485002God I hope this was enough.
rolled 3, 16 = 19>>19485053
>>19485053>>19485002Well, having more than one person roll is fine, but let's see if it was enough...
rolled 11, 20 = 31It's just a chunk of metal! Really! We should not be so interested in it!
>Well now…“Trist, you alright?” Elim’s voice snaps you out of your daze.“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” “Well, what are you standing around for? Let’s get going! That’s trophy’s pretty cool, by the way. Not exactly my thing, but it’ll be something you can talk about when you’ve got a lord-admiral’s trophy room.” “What?” You look down, and see the staff already clenched in your left hand. If you stood it up, it would be taller than you by about three heads. Speaking of which, there are about twice that many skulls on it right now, mostly gretchin with one massive Ork skull on the top. Why you picked it up, you don’t know; it feels as heavy as a power maul, and it’ll be tough fitting it into your locker. ‘Oh well,’ you think, ‘I’ll find someplace to put it.’ You grasp it with both hands and carry it out of the turret, the rust and corrosion falling off as you walk with it. It feels lighter already.
rolled 8, 7 = 15>>19485186DropitdtopitdropitdropitdropitOr hand it over to someone who can dispose of it safely.
>>19485186This could be bad, though the 20 on luck might help. The rust and corrosion disappearing is pretty suspicious, find somewhere secure to stash it and get the professional opinion of the Grandparent Astropaths.
>>19485203Expose the ship's astropath to a xenos warp artifact. Yeah, that'll go down well.
>>19485268I said stash somewhere secure and ask their opinion, I don't think we should show it to them just get their opinion on weird xenos psyker stuff and then make our next move based on that.
>>19485186The wide-eyed crewmen stare as you pass by with the trophy, and you and Elim take turns telling the story of your actions during the battle to curious officers and midshipmen. By the time you get to the suit lockers, you must have told your story a dozen times. The staff itself gets some long stares, but most seem to be more interested in congratulating you on a job well-done, and Elim takes the opportunity to wrangle some drinks out of them. Some of them want to hold the stuff, but you politely refuse them.Meanwhile, the captain announces a one-day leave for all First and Second shift personnel tomorrow, as well as a six-hour leave today for Third and Fourth shift officers and crew, who were running around as damage control teams and armsmen today. It’s just too bad that you’re so far out system, orbiting Vyan VIII’s largest moon. Instead of having access to Vyan’s Wall, all you’d be able to do is explore a somewhat small ship repair dock. It does, however, let you have some fun tonight. The drinking starts in your quarters, when Elim pulls out a bottle of Rosellum Red for you all to share. Rosey quickly proves his nickname as his cheeks flush a particularly bright shade of red, which shine like a beacon against his void-black hair. He flops against your shoulder, breathing hard.“Sorry,” he whispers. “Not quite my thing.”“Not a problem. But maybe you should lie down.” Rosey nods, but doesn’t move from your shoulder. His thin face looks rather feminine with the blush, and his shoulder-length, slightly-curly hair frames it nicely.
>>19485333Let him stay there for a bit, drink a bit more, than get him into bed to lie down for a bit. Make sure he's feeling ok.
>>19485333“Okay, enough of that watered shit. Let’s get some real drinks in here,” Theresa pronounces after a cup. She pulls out a clear glass bottle, half-filled with a blue liquid.“Hey, this ‘watered shit’ is the most famous wine in the sector! What is that, anyway?” You ask. Rosellum red was something your parents put out once a week at dinner, and you and your siblings always competed to see who would get the dregs.“The drink of my people: Krydae field juice. Come on, Trist, I’m sure the ork-killer can handle his liquor, right?” Theresa uncorks the bottle, releasing the noxious smell of paint thinner and burnt sugar all over the room.“What!?” Marius shakes his head. “We’re going down to celebrate, and you want to give us that rotgut? It’ll have us passed out!” >What’s your decision?
>>19485374There isn't much of a party if you end up slumped on the floor after 10 minutes. Have fun polishing off the damn good wine then have a wee bit of the blue rotgut. We can ignore every single insult at our manliness since we just killed an Ork Weirdboy with a single shot.
>>19485374We won't remember most of this tomorrow anyway. So the Rosellum Red is probably wasted on us this evening.Let's go with the Krydae field juice but only after we've brought Rosey to his bunk and put a bucket and something to drink next to him.
>>19485333Try to get into Rosey's pants.
>>19485374If we're going to get drunk, might as well do it properly. Kyrdae field juice it is.
>>19485426We're not even sure if Rosey is actually female or just has a particuarily feminine figure or anything. And Rosey seems pretty out of it. Trying to get into his/her pants while we've got a hot pilot (and a superior officer to boot!) on the burners is both ungentlemanly and dumb.
>>19485426Don't try to get in his pants, the poor guy has no tolerance for alcohol and we're already going after Arys, we'll tuck him into bed and make sure he drinks plenty of water before he sleeps.
“Well, I’d be willing to try it, but let’s polish off the Red first. The dregs are the best part; all the sweetness of the grapes gets concentrated down into it. First thing though…” You nudge Roswald, who stirs a little. Shaking your head, you carry him over to his bunk. Theresa, always protective of her friend, brings over a cup of water and the trash bucket from the bathroom before sitting next to him“Seems you’re a man after all, Trist. Just leave some of it for me; I’ll probably be here for the night.” “Heh, don’t worry, where we’re going there’ll be more than enough drinks.” Elim tips out more of the Rosellum into his cup. The five of you start playing Aquila or Eagle, an old drinking game from Eusius’ homeworld of Pillar, and Theresa wins the dregs. The thick red syrup is swirled around in her cup for a few seconds, her teal eyes glaring at them, before she upends it into her mouth.“Okay, so it’s not bad. Better than the rest of the drink. But the field juice is still better.”Well, it’s certainly different. It bites you going down, harsh and electric in flavor. The fire it leaves through your throat as you swallow it makes your eyes water, and you see Eusius cough as the fumes go the wrong way. Marius just shakes his head and passes the bottle back to Theresa without trying it.“Suit yourself then.” Theresa takes the bottle and takes a deep drink from it, making Elim wince. “Ugh, well, that’s it. Let’s get down to the mess.”>I'll let you guys know now, this is probably going to take after Heretical Love in some respects.
>>19485453I'm willing to bet we can handle both.>>19485528>fuck him into bedAh, I can see we're thinking on similar wave-lengths here.
>>19485586>I'll let you guys know now, this is probably going to take after Heretical Love in some respects.Don't worry, I've been planning for the harem ending all along.
>>19485586>this is probably going to take after Heretical Love in some respects.I'm not sure what that entails...Also, we can't forget to congratulate the guys from 5 on their part.
You get slapped on the back, show off the nob tusk and get yourself given quite a few drinks from all over the sector before Etta shows up. Sub-lieutenant Sakai passes something called plum wine over to you, which is nearly as sweet as the Rosellum’s dregs, while ensign Valdemeer from Turret Five brings out a cask of Garagas ale from his “stash.” You of course, get the first drink from the tap, in honor of your killing blow. It tastes as good as it looks, you proclaim, and you take the chance to congratulate Valdemeer and ensign Huron for their work in taking down the escort. “Luck had nothing to do with it, Bernard. I’ve been reading up on gunnery tactics since we ran into the first rok.” You’re standing by the door, ale in one hand as you demonstrate the proper tracking and positioning of a macrocannon turret targeting a quick moving target with your other, a feat of prestidigitation you will never again attempt. Ensign Jowells, who scored himself a kill-credit against a rok in the battle, is watching with a bemused face as he tries to understand.“So, taking into account the combined speeds of the target and the shell, along with the ship…No, I’m getting that wrong, aren’t I?”“A little, but you’re getting there.”“Well, I think it’s just harder for me to picture it. I’ve never been good at listening to instructions and descriptions like that. Would you mind lending me a copy of the data-slate?”
>>19485717"Of course, I'd be happy to."Etta is Henrietta, right? We must talk to her, maybe a quick apology for seeming brusque over the vox.
>>19485717Pour me another drink and I'll do so, though I may need a reminder considering how little of tonight I'm likely to remember.
>>19485717“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. The ensign seems keen on imparting his knowledge to others, after all.” You turn around at the interrupting voice, soft and airy like the brush of a light breeze. “Sub-I mean, Henrietta! So you made it!” Etta is standing in the door, smiling. Her curly blond hair is tied in a messy ponytail that hands down her back, while her helmet is clutched under her right arm. Her bulky flight suit, full of pockets and sockets, looks distinctly out of place in a mess filled with shipboard duty uniforms. “I did say I’d come find you later. Thanks for the reminder, by the way.”“No, no, let me apologize first. I’d have loved to chat longer, but I wanted to hear your sweet voice in person rather than hear it over the vox. It was just a convenient excuse, and I’m sorry I made you come all this way.” She blushes a bit at your apology, but smiles and shakes her head.“Well, how could I not accept an apology like that?” “Um…”“Ah! Bernard, this is Sub-lieutenant Henrietta Arys, of the Dominus Nova. Etta, this is Ensign Bernard Jowells, my equal in Macrocannon Two.”“A pleasure, ma’am.” Jowells makes a swift salute.“Likewise, ensign. I hope you wouldn’t mind if I stole Tristan away from you for a bit?”“Not at all. I’ll let Elim know the star of the show is off with a friend, shall I?”“Eh…” Knowing Elim, he’ll be gossiping and asking questions about it for the next month. But he’d probably find out sooner or later.“Sure. Just make sure you remind me about the data-slate; I’m not going to remember much from tonight.”
>>19485914>[ ] Talk in the mess, on the edges of the party.>[ ] Find somewhere more private where you can be more open.>[ ] Another idea?
>>19485937First we both regale our tales of heroism and valor to the crowd, we let her start with a story about her time as a hotshot pilot today. Then we follow with our story about the Ork landing party, fighting them off, the magnificent shot we pulled off on the psyker while rallying the men and then returning to our station to deliver Macrocannon death to the remaining Ork vessels. After we have both boasted sufficiently we head somewhere more private and talk openly.
[x] Talk in the mess, on the edges of the party.Taking her off to a private room isn't exactly subtle. And we don't have to spend our every waking moment trying to chase some tail. "So enough about my luck today, how did you and your squad do?"
>>19485937>>[ ] Talk in the mess, on the edges of the party.Let's stay at the party for now.
>[ ] Talk in the messThe two of you take a seat at an empty mess table, watching the proceedings of the party. Elim starts breaking out into a rousing, musical interpretation of the battle that makes you wince with its cheesiness.“That’s not how it happened, really.” You say to the giggling Etta.“Why don’t you tell me the story, then? I want to hear all about how you made your first ship kill.”“Well, it didn’t start out looking like I was going to make any kills. We didn’t realize that Captain Belgrano was performing the Ravensburg strike…” =][=“…And that’s when the cruiser blew up! Of course, we still had the roks to deal with, but they were stuck in the void. And of course, Bernard can tell that story,” you say, finishing your tale. The crowd around you nods appreciatively and Henrietta raises a drink.“A toast! To our heroic gunner, Tristan!” “Here here!” You clink your glass many times before you take a deep draught of ale, finishing off your fourth cup. It really is excellent, and you make a mental note to ask Valdemeer for a bottle or two. “But what about you, Arys?” Eusius calls out from the crowd. “You must’ve had some good hunting out there, huh?”
>>19486156>=][=AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
>>19486165Heh. Missed that.
>>19486231Could we show Etta the turret we're stationed at?
>>19486231Steal a good bottle or cask of alcohol and take Etta somewhere more private to talk/seduce.
rolled 6 = 6>>19486238This is a good idea.
I think we've done a decent run here. I'm out of ideas for this particular scene, so I'll end it here for today. Disregard my last post, I'll write up something better next time and we'll continue from there.Be back Saturday at 18:00, perhaps 17:00.
>>19486284It might be a bit far away, though the Ork bits ought to be cleaned up by now. Also it could be someone else's shift.
>>19486296It would be someone else's shift, and I don't think they'd take too kindly to being interrupted. Then again, you're starting to build a heroic reputation, and they might let you off.
rolled 9 = 9>>19486296Good point, it probably is someone else's shift now. Where else can we take our lovely lady?
>>19486326I'll come up with a list and post it Saturday.
>>19486326I vote for "in the butt".
>>19486340Looking forward to it.
