File: bit of a fixer upper.jpg (177 KB, 944x531)

177 KB JPG

>>40747009

One by one, the technical experts reported their findings to the Xenologist Adept.

Ol' Bill reported that the Warp-Presence Shroud was missing a certain key component and would be barely functional. The Xenologist asked if "missing" meant it might be found somewhere, and Sarge explained that in this case it meant that the piece was welded into the warp-drive. Ol' Bill recommended leaving that part where it was.

Jim followed that up with the news that the Cells' Psi-Suppressor had been badly damaged, but he was reasonably confident that by cannibalizing parts and reducing coverage it could be gotten back up to eighty percent power. Jim refused to guess whether that was Delta, Epsilon, or a lower level psi-suppression, citing his own lack of any idea how the damned thing worked. The Xenologist winced at hearing this.

Finally Hannah reported that all eleven intact stasis units were in working order. The problem was that, unless the specimen was going to be child-sized, there'd be no way to fit it in one. Putting it half-inside a stasis field would result in a half-specimen, trying to overlap the fields would result in a rather large explosion, and there was no Mechanicus-approved method for kludging multiple stasis units into a larger one. When the Xenologist claimed that there was no way anything would work without a stasis-field, Hannah grudgingly admitted that Tink and his "assistant" might have some not-entirely-orthodox way of doing it. Sarge groaned at that, but didn't actually say anything.

Everyone went quiet as the Adept digested the lackluster reports. In the silence Sarge noticed a faint sound coming from the debris-clogged cell. A laspistol practically materialized in his hands, and he motioned everyone except the well-armed Confessor back.

FIRST FOR STORY TIEM!!!

YES YES YES, I FINALLY CAUGHT ONE LIVE!

File: whats in there.jpg (45 KB, 446x496)

45 KB JPG

>>40747026

As the two men carefully pushed aside pieces of wreckage, the sound grew clearer. It was a sort of far-off chattering, screaming sound, mixed with what sounded like the thump of heavy crates being moved around, and a familiar nasal voice talking to itself.

Everyone in the room groaned, except for Sarge, who thrust his head as far as he could into the wrecked cell and bellowed "GODDAMNIT NUBBY."

There was an inarticulate scream and the sound of several objects falling over. When the clattering died away a plaintive "Bloody 'ell Sarge, chu doin down 'ere?" drifted out from somewhere in the rear of the cell.

Sarge began ripping out pieces of wreckage in an effort to find where the trooper was hiding. As he worked the enraged noncom embarked on what was sure to be an epic chewing-out. "What am I doing? WHAT AM I DOING? What are YOU doing you little idiot? And why in the Emperor's name are you doing it in the Psyker Holding Cells?"

Nubby's tone grew panicked as he registered Sarge's fury. "I aint doin nufin! An' you made me promise na ta go nowhere near yer stupid cells. I'm jus' mindin me own business down at da bottom of da liffs."

This gave Sarge pause, and in the silence the faint chattering screaming he'd been hearing under Nubby's voice finally registered. Sarge groaned as the realization hit him. The Confessor, who didn't know Nubby quite as well, asked if he was in the Chapel to the Emperor located in the deck below the lift to the bridge. Nubby's hesitant reply of "sorta" was cut off by Sarge.

"Nubby are you using the containment area inside the Chapel, the one we built around the unholy screaming crater the Cogtain left when he died, to store contraband?"

"... no?"

"Really Nubby?"

"Well, not really contraband per se, jus' like, odds an' ends."

"GODDAMN IT NUBBY!"

"It's not like anyone was usin it!"

IT BEGINS.

>>40747009

Nice to have you.

Just recently finished all the old stuff.

Thanks a lot.

File: DO NOT WANT.jpg (138 KB, 550x344)

138 KB JPG

>>40747052

While Sarge and the Confessor both sputtered in a mix of horror and frustration, Jim raised the question of how the conversation was actually happening. Sarge couldn't see anything through the gaps in the debris besides the cell's rear wall. He grudgingly ordered Nubby to search the containment room for any sort of communicator or portal.

Nubby followed their voices, and reported the glowing crater left by the dead Cogtain as the source. He hesitantly asked if glowing metal could be a portal, and if he should try poking it with something.

Sarge's answer was drowned out by a screeching flood of daemonic and binary screaming. The noise rose a crescendo as the far wall of the cell started glowing and a jagged length of metal poked through. The blade flailed around like a snake stuck in a hole, and slowly hauled something that looked like a cross between a lasgun's barrel and a daemonic skull out behind it. Sarge leapt aside as the Confessor ran forwards and hosed the back of the cell with sanctified promethium.

When the noise finally died down, Nubby's voice returned and asked if anyone had seen where his lasgun had gone after the metal ate it. Sarge told him it was probably time to get a new gun from Tink, and ordered the trooper to return to his quarters immediately. Without any of his "odds an' ends."

As the faint sound of Nubby's metal footsteps and curses faded away, Sarge turned to where the Xenologist was trying to hide behind Ol' Bill.

File: 85d.gif (50 KB, 200x200)

50 KB GIF

>>40747009
You're late, faggot.
I'm so glad to see this. Thanks, man.

File: why are we doing this.png (179 KB, 453x335)

179 KB PNG

>>40747086

"Right... we'll worry about that later, back to why we're actually down here. You've heard the reports, do you think we can do it?"

"Okay, just to be clear."

"Yes."

"We have a Psyker Containment Area with almost no warp-presence shrouding, an indeterminate amount of psi-suppression, and a stasis field that'll be kludged together from smaller units by that mad xenos you've got hiding in your quarters."

"Uh-huh."

"And you're asking if we can use this Area, which is already so tainted that it's manifesting major phenomena, to hold a live Tyranid Zoanthrope for a months-long warp voyage?"

"That's right."

"That is quite literally the worst idea I've ever heard."

>The All Guardsmen Party: Tyranid Acquisition Experts

>>40747049
honnestly i caught all of them live.
im that much of a lucky faggot

sweet jesus
this is gonna be a beautiful clusterfuck, I just know it

is it weird if reading this gave me a massive grin

>>40747102

Few notes as we get started here

>I’m putting everything into a single place where I can go in an edit stuff and junk. If you’d prefer to see these stories all in one spot instead of spread out over a thread or in a cap you can see the semi-finished product here:

https://googledrive.com/host/0B3Z9sXPTD9rpN2owNGdVWmdFWXM/agp.html

>Criticism and Questions are always welcome

>I'm proofing and grabbing pics on the fly here, but I'll try to keep things moving.

>Sorry for the long wait between chapters, I am the slows

>>40747029
>>40747049
>>40747057
>>40747088
I LIVE!

>>40747062
Cool, I've been messing around with the old stuff too. I just finally got around to finishing the edit on the discount spaceship chapter, the ending no longer sucks!

Finally catching one live! Shoggy, you and your group are amazing.

>>40747026
Cue the best kludge-job ever.

File: looks a little unsafe.jpg (104 KB, 1000x285)

104 KB JPG

>>40747102

So no shit, there we were, heading out beyond the fringes of Imperial Space to capture a xenos psyker, which we would then have to haul, kicking and screaming, half-way across the galaxy. There were probably shitier missions out there, but that wasn't much comfort. Saying "It could always be worse" loses it's charm when things actually DO keep getting worse.

The only thing that kept us from labeling it as a suicide mission was the fact that a force from the Emperor's Scythes Space Marine chapter would be leading the actual capture effort. In fact it was technically their mission, we were just supposed to assist them in the capture, then handle the transport. The fact that we'd be working with, and fighting alongside, a team of Space Marines didn't actually make us much happier though.

I mean sure, the Marines are the greatest warriors in all the Imperium, near-immortal demigods of war and all that, but we'd been in our share of battles. Every one of us had seen what inevitably happens when the Astartes get called in: the quickest way for a Guardsman to meet the Emperor is to be anywhere within a ten-kilometer radius of one of His angels.

Sadly, the assignment had come directly from Inquisitor Oak, so there was nothing we could do to avoid it. No matter how insane the mission, how bad our equipment, and how certain our deaths, there was nothing short of desertion that would get us out of our orders. So we went to work preparing our equipment and took solace in the most sacred right of all soldiers: complaining.

File: whine whine whine.jpg (206 KB, 714x551)

206 KB JPG

>>40747202

To start with, Tink complained about how unfair it was to stick him and Fio, our semi-captive Tau scientist, with so much to do in so little time. The two of them worked furiously on the problem of combining the smaller stasis units into a larger one, while simultaneously trying to cram more pulse weapons into lasgun disguises and build Spot 2.0. Their efforts were seriously hampered by the fact that Tau science isn't anywhere near as advanced when it comes to stasis fields, or anything related to psykers for that matter, as it is on the subject of plasma or drones. Then, on top of that, there was the whole heretical xenotech on an Imperial vessel issue.

The xenotech problem wasn't as serious as it used to be: replacing all of our annoying old cogboys with slightly-less-annoying young cogboys had resulted in far more liberal outlook among the ship's tech-priesthood. Sarge still insisted on a moderate amount of discretion though, which caused significant slowdowns, especially when combined with Jim's newfound stodginess as head-cogboy.

Mister I'm-a-big-boy-now Head Enginseer Jim flat-out insisted that none of the junior tech-priests were allowed to even work in the same room as Fio, much less lend a mechadendrite. We sort of understood that it was all for the safety of the acolytes, who might get in deep trouble if they displayed bad habits in their future postings, but it slowed things down considerably. Tink wound up drafting Sarge and most of the adepts as assistants; none of them were very helpful mind you, but the fact that they were suffering with him cheered Tink up immensely.

File: it only happened twice..jpg (73 KB, 1024x1024)

73 KB JPG

>>40747259

Jim, Hannah, and Ol' Bill did their fair share of complaining too. The projects they were working on weren't much easier than Tink's, and they also were trying to keep the ship running and train their new recruits. In the long run the fresh batch of cogboys was probably going to work out wonderfully, but in the short term it was complete mayhem. Hannah had it especially bad, since she was the one in charge of the newbies while the others ran their projects. She was driven to the edge of hysterics by a constant barrage of questions and problems, ranging from trivial to potentially fatal, from the Acolytes. The poor cog-girl hid from them in our barracks more than once.

While the technical folks whined about over-work, Doc, Fumbles, and the Xenologist Adept complained to anyone who would listen about being used as human guinea pigs. Really, all of them understood there were no other options for testers, and the Containment Area had to be tested. They just hated the fact that said testing consisted of the Xenologist coaxing Fumbles into trying to manifest the sort of powers a Zoanthrope might use, while Doc stood around and waited to fix whatever went wrong. And when you combine Fumbles trying to use powers outside his comfort zone, a high-stress environment, and the quality the Containment Area, you better believe things went wrong. At least Doc did got a lot of practice fixing up injured cogboys, so there was some silver lining.

oh god yes i caught it live!!! SHOGGY WE LOVE YOU

>>40747171
What happened to you, man?

IS THIS REAL LIFE? IS THIS BASED SHOGGY? AM I CATCHING A LIVE THREAD?????

Fuck yeah best story time.

File: totally harmless.jpg (227 KB, 1118x1039)

227 KB JPG

>>40747294

The only members of the team who weren't involved in preparing the Containment Area were Nubby, Twitch, and Aimy. Of course they didn't let that stand in the way of bitterly complaining, in fact they used their free time to complain harder. The three of them wandered around the ship on their patrol of the tainted areas, looking for warp phenomena and daemon incursions, while whining to each other about their sorry lot.

Nubby had a whole slew of grievances, mostly with Sarge. The chewing out he'd received for appropriating the screamy-crater room as a warehouse was minor compared to the one he'd gotten when he went BACK in there. Originally he'd only intended to clear out his stash, but then Tink and Fio had requested he run a few experiments. For Science they'd said. Nubby felt it was entirely unfair that he'd received all the blame for the incident with the crater and the rat.

Anyway, the mutated rodent hadn't actually hurt anyone: it'd just chased a tech-acolyte around for a while, and then spontaneously combusted. So Nubby grumbled continuously about how unreasonable Sarge had gotten since his promotion, and the fact that he wasn't even allowed to hang out with Fumbles during tests on account of being "disruptive to the work environment."

>>40747130
Cegorach's own.

File: it looks fine.jpg (45 KB, 548x779)

45 KB JPG

>>40747326

Twitch had been driven to a significantly higher-than-usual level of paranoia by the news that he'd be sharing the ship with a Tyranid. This was compounded by the ban on indiscriminate booby-traps that Sarge had enacted after several of the acolytes had gotten themselves injured. The cherry on top, and primary focus of Twitch's complaints, was the fact that Doc had refused to move back into the barracks after his legs had finished healing. Doc claimed his preference for sharing quarters with his hospitalier girlfriend wasn't a slander on the quality of Twitch's defences, but the demolitions trooper didn't buy it. He interpreted this decision in the same way he did most things, as a complex conspiracy to make him unhappy.

Finally bringing up the rear of the little parade of misanthropy, was Aimy, who had perhaps the pettiest gripe of all of us: her hair was messed up. Doc's girlfriend had done a wonderful job of repairing the second set of facial burns our markswoman had received, and she'd used some special hospitaller trick to repair Aimy's scalp. Unfortunately, Aimy was completely fixated on the fact that the treatment had left a hand-wide stripe of pure white running through her, now buzz-cut, hair. None of us really knew why she cared so much, Aimy hadn't been particularly vain in the past, it was odd that this specific thing loomed so large. Perhaps it was because Nubby had the poor taste to say it made her look like a skunk.

The three troopers shared their displeasure with just about everything they ran into, whether it was a minor warp beastie, mutant krootoid, or newbie tech-priest. Aimy particularly took grim delight in asking every Acolyte she saw if they thought her hair looked funny, then doing mean things to anyone who gave the wrong answer. There wasn't a right one. By the time we were nearing our rendezvous their antics, as well as the rest of the team's general attitude, had reached such a level that the Captain actually took notice.

Glad I finally made it to one of these. don't wanna bump too much so I'll just say, thanks for sharing your stories dude.

File: Storytime.jpg (654 KB, 1024x678)

654 KB JPG

Fuck yeah, storytime!

File: The British Sidesplitter (...).png (45 KB, 252x200)

45 KB PNG

>>40747259
>Mister I'm-a-big-boy-now Head Enginseer Jim

File: they did what to who now.png (1.11 MB, 834x680)

1.11 MB PNG

>>40747368

It took a bit of work for Sarge to placate the Captain, even though the man was ex-Navy and should have automatically understood the situation. Sarge didn't have any trouble getting across that most of our squad had an especially strong dislike for fighting Tyranids, and pyskers for that matter. The problem was that morale is a far different thing on a ship than it is in a trench, so the Captain didn't see why that excused our behavior.

Sarge eventually managed to explain that while veteran Guardsmen can handle just about anything on the battlefield, they have relatively few coping mechanisms for dealing with slowly impending doom. He asked if the Captain would prefer to have us staggering around blind drunk or taking a more "proactive" approach to staying alive. The Captain agreed that a bit of complaining and misbehavior was better than Twitch manufacturing reason why we couldn't complete the mission.

In the end Sarge promised that we'd be ready for action when the time came, and quietly hoped like hell that he was telling the truth. Luckily, it turned out he was: on the final day of our warp travel everything started coming together.

The first break was when Tink and Fio successfully managed to put the largest servitor on the ship into stasis. Actually it was originally the second largest servitor, but the overlapping fields had gotten out of sync on the previous test and messily rearranged that hierarchy. Anyway, the test was such a resounding success that they hauled the whole thing down to the Cells and crammed Fumbles into it before anyone could stop them.

Aside from how long it took them to safely get our Psyker back out of there, the live test went perfectly. Fumble's aura completely vanished when the field was activated and everyone working in the Cells cheered. Even Jim seemed happy, despite the way he was chivying his Acolytes out of the room and explaining that they were definitely not seeing a Tau or a techno-heretical stasis device.

>>40747368
Shoggy, does Doc's ladyfriend get a name?

File: umm are we early.png (367 KB, 443x356)

367 KB PNG

>>40747422

The news that we'd be transporting a stasis-ed Tyranid psyker, as opposed to one that was actively trying to kill us, perked everyone up. All of us set aside our little distracting grievances as our warp voyage ended; well, except for Aimy and Twitch that is. The demolitions trooper's behavior wasn't surprising, but the fact that Aimy had to be restrained from beating Nubby to death with the bottle of hair-dye he acquired for her was worrying. Fortunately neither of their Obsessions prevented them from prepping for battle, and everyone was ready to kick some ass when we finally reached our destination.

When I say we were ready for action, I mean it: we were literally standing in the shuttle bay when the Occurrence Border came out of warp. The Space Marines weren't going to catch us sitting around and asking for five more minutes before the mission, no siree. So it was sort of awkward when there wasn't anyone at the rendezvous.

We stood in the bay for an hour before we gave up in disgust. While the rest of us wandered off, muttering blasphemous remarks about the Emperor's Angels of Death and their idea of punctuality as we did so, Sarge headed up to the bridge to see what the hell was going on.

We'd really expected to find the Marines there ahead of us, it's not like we had a very fast ship. We'd even entertained the faint hope that they'd already have the Zoanthrope tied up and ready for us. Either way it'd be a matter of in-and-out before the Nids even realized we were there, at least that's what we hoped. It was rather unsettling to find ourselves sitting absolutely alone at the far edge of a hostile system. It didn't stay unsettling for long though: when we took a look around and saw just how hostile the system was, we bumped the situation up to outright terrifying.

I think this is my second or third one live. So glad to have you back Shoggy.

This mission is going to be glorious. I can feel it.

File: Spoiler Image (360 KB, 1024x683)

360 KB JPG

>>40747448

Now, we'd all read Oak's orders. It was obvious that the system would be a battleground: not even Marines are suicidal enough to try this sort of thing in a wholly Tyranid controlled system. None of us had been optimistic enough to bet on finding a system that was being cleansed by a massive Imperial fleet, but we'd hoped that our destination would be some Imperial frontier world that just wasn't on our maps. Preferably one that had just been reinforced by a few regiments of Guard, and was fighting off a VERY small splinter fleet.

Of course if we couldn't get a world with more Guardsmen than Nids, we'd have happily settled for any Imperial presence, regardless of how many bugs there were. Hell, we would have been happy with one of those weird independent systems you get out here, or even a Tau world, so long as they were busy with the Nids. All we'd really wanted was a system where the fight was sort of even, and one side wouldn't be shooting at us. Instead, what we saw when the Occurrence Border's scanners came online, was four planets, four hiveships, and thousands, if not millions, of far-smaller ships. A closer inspection revealed that the little vessels were inorganic and that they were attacking the hiveships with mixed success. Sarge left the bridge shortly after the first detailed scans came in.

Sarge came down and gave us the bad news, it was something we needed to know after all, but he took the precaution of stopping the medbay on the way down. Even with the heavy tranq and the Hospitaller's help, Twitch nearly managed to escape into the ship's pipework before Sarge finished telling us about the little ships. They hadn't been Imperial or Tau fighters, or even Eldar for that matter. Every single one of the smaller craft had been a ramshackle contraption held together by a combination of spit, red paint, and a complete refusal to understand, or even acknowledge, the laws of physics.

Orks? Why'd it have to be Orks?

Woohoo! I got in on the ground floor on this one!

>>40747304

Work, compounded by schedule mismanagement and this weird thing where I keep writing slower and slower. Hoping the next chapter will be out much faster

>>40747387
>>40747173

Thanks!

>>40747447

Not yet, but eventually

>>40747455

From our perspective it was infamous more than glorious... so many random crit fails...

I was reading a book when a character named Sargent appeared, and I knew I had to check for a storytime.

This was fate.

>>40747049
Being a Bonglander is hard.

But since my latest work is sitting in front of a machine all day and feeding paper, I'm not fussed about getting bugger all sleep.
though dropping off at the wheel may be an issue...

File: no idea how this actually(...).jpg (1020 KB, 1440x816)

1020 KB JPG

>>40747567

The Occurrence Border spent the next few days being as still and quiet as it possibly could. Meanwhile, everyone inside it ran around in frenzy of preparation that put our earlier efforts to shame. None if it was directed towards improving the Zoanthrope Containment Area any more though, instead it was all focused on keeping us alive long enough to capture the bloody thing. Armsmen drilled on repelling boarders, the ship's lances were brought up to as close to functional as they'd ever been, and Tink finished getting everyone equipped with pulse weapons while Fio put the final touches on Spot 2.0. The rest of us trained with our new weapons, and kept Twitch from doing anything crazier than usual.

On the third day we were all called up to the bridge by the Captain. Well, actually only Sarge and the adepts were called, but the rest of us were tired of all the horrible waiting. A very brief message telling us to hold position and wait for secure comm contact was replayed for us. The Captain told us he hadn't seen any other vessels enter the system and didn't even have a hard source for the comm message, just a vague direction. That was rather disturbing, but no one except Twitch could figure out a way it could be a trap. The Captain and Sarge decided to wait and see what happened next.

After half an hour another message came in. An incredibly deep voice that practically screamed "Space Marine" identified itself as Sergeant Gravis of the Emperor's Scythes, and instructed us to lower our shields so he could dock. As the Captain did so, Sarge squared his shoulders and picked up the Vox's handset, only to have the officer manning it tell him that we still didn't have a target for a secure channel. The man asked Sarge if he should just broadcast generally, and Sarge agreed. He got about halfway through introducing himself before the Marine voxed back, and told him to cease broadcasting before he alerted the whole system.

>>40747488
>but he took the precaution of stopping the medbay on the way down.
Stopping -AT- the medbay?

>>40747339
fuck eldars.
im more of student of Creed
tactical thread deployment unit

>>40747086
Fuggin Nubby.

File: looks inviting.png (690 KB, 630x429)

690 KB PNG

>>40747618

Sarge sheepishly hung up the vox, and vented some frustration by asking the communications officer what he meant by "still didn't have a target." It was quickly revealed that sensors still hadn't detected the Marines' ship, despite it being close enough to worry about docking.

The sensor techs claimed that the incoming ship must be shuttle-sized and have some good stealth systems, but they were sure to spot it when it requested final docking instructions. Tink not-very-quietly suggested that, instead of Marines' ship being really stealthy, the techs' systems were just complete shit. He then volunteered to have them upgraded to "modern standards" after the mission. The ensuing argument was brought to a halt by the Marine voxing again, and telling us to reactivate our shields and close the shuttle-bay doors.

While most of us laughed at the sensor techs for not spotting a ship before it landed on us, Doc raised the question of where the Marines had landed; we hadn't actually opened any bays yet. Unsurprisingly, given that they were the ones who'd patrolled the ship the most, Nubby and Twitch figured it out first; both troopers screamed at Sarge to stop the Marine. Sarge and the Captain both caught on to what had happened at the same moment that the techs pinpointed the Marines' ship in the foremost bay on the top of the Occurrence Border. The one in the badly warp-tainted area near the prow, which was left open and airless at all times, and was NEVER to be used.

The two normally stoic men frantically ran towards the communication officer and screamed at him to open a channel. In the background a confused sounding comm came in from the Marine, asking why everything was so green and why there was a crewman without a void-suit in the airless bay.

Sarge won the sprint, and had the vox halfway to his mouth when the Marine's confused questions changed to reports of incoming hostiles.

REJOICE!

Two months of wait have not gone unrewarded!

File: Raptors_Chapter_Symbol.jpg (13 KB, 141x131)

13 KB JPG

>>40747629
Raptors stronk, my life for Chapter Master Issodon

File: stop being retarded.jpg (14 KB, 393x298)

14 KB JPG

>>40747698

Despite everything that happened afterwards, Sarge's reaction was about as perfect as was possible. In his best noncomm voice, he bellowed at the Marine to disengage and pull his shuttle out of the bay.

I'm not sure if you're familiar with how big and loud a Space Marine's voice is, but overriding one via pure volume and vitriol is a feat worthy of legend. Every time the Marine tried to argue, or ask for clarification, Sarge just shouted over him in that parade-ground voice he'd spent his life perfecting.

It was working and everything might have turned out fine, if there hadn't been a second Marine that is. The other Astartes, who'd been spared the full brunt of Sarge's wrath, cut in and asked his battle-brother if he'd tarnish the Chapter's honor by running like a squad of guardsmen without a commissar. The first Marine rallied, and announced his intention to enter the bay and deal with the hostiles that were evading his shuttle's weapons.

Sarge switched tactics and frantically tried to explain that there weren't any enemies and opening the airlock would let the warp-fungus in, but dissolved into furious cursing when he heard the shuttle's lock cycle. With a final growl of "This isn't a battle you idiot, it's sanitation. You're going to get yourself killed fighting fungus" he handed the vox unit over to Doc and the adepts.

Doc and everyone else with more charisma than a dead felid slowly explained the situation to the marine that hadn't just contaminated himself. The rest of us just stood there and listened to the sound of a Space Marine trying to kill xenos that miraculously seemed to dodge every shot. Nubby and Aimy started placing bets on how long it would be before the warp-fungus, as we called it, ate through the Marine's power-armor, and whether the Marine would even be able to notice. No one gave him good odds: we all knew just how nasty the warp-fungus could get. Hell, it'd been some of us who first discovered the stuff.

File: YOROKOBE.gif (248 KB, 380x640)

248 KB GIF

shoggy thread? this is the greatest moment in my life.

>>40747202
One day I shall play Deathwatch again

On this day asses shall be kicked, names be taken.

>>40747567
>Work, compounded by schedule mismanagement and this weird thing where I keep writing slower and slower. Hoping the next chapter will be out much faster
Hope so too. Also, I know that feeling.


>From our perspective it was infamous more than glorious... so many random crit fails...

Oh dear Emprah no.

File: hmmmmm.png (510 KB, 761x445)

510 KB PNG

>>40747765

Standard operating procedure on the Occurrence Border was to just seal off any warp-tainted sections with nothing important inside. The lack of anything living to mess with kept the number of manifestations to a minimum, and anything that did appear usually faded before it could claw through the sealed bulkheads. Occasionally though, something nastier than usual would appear and need dealing with. Nubby, Twitch, Fumbles, and recently Aimy, spent a lot of time watching for signs of this sort of stuff, and often got stuck with the job of fixing it.

Anyway, the warp-fungus was one of those nastier than usual things, but fixing it had been a bit of a problem. Fumbles had sort of "heard" it in the tainted shuttle bay months ago, back before we'd reached the Tau border worlds in fact. He'd made such a fuss about the psychic noise it was emitting, that Nubby and Twitch had agreed to risk a recon mission into the bay between warp-jumps. They'd run in, and pinpointed a large container labelled "Potato Substitute: 15 Tonnes" as the source of the noise. Because they were relatively savvy to how this sort of things worked, they'd declined to actually open the container, and just solved the problem in the same way they'd solved most of the others. Which is to say they covered it with detpacks.

At the time they'd declared victory when the explosion went off and the psychic noise stopped, but in retrospect that had only served to spread the fungus all over the bay. While the noise hadn't returned, patrolling armsmen began reporting strange sounds then disappearing, and then other armsmen reported hearing or seeing the missing ones. Over a dozen had vanished into the bay before Nubby and the rest took a second look. They'd found it covered with the fungus, which was in the process of dissolving everything less sturdy than the bay's blast-proof outer doors and walls. Also, it was filled with the missing armsmen, who were beckoning them inwards.

File: dakka2.jpg (144 KB, 744x400)

144 KB JPG

40747455

File: ewww it's mushy.jpg (392 KB, 1818x1000)

392 KB JPG

>>40747802

Nubby, Fumbles, and Twitch had immediately shut the door and ran for it. As the they'd fled, a horde of Orks, Gensestealers, and a few other varieties of xenos appeared at the end of the hall and blocked their escape. Fortunately Fumbles was along and realized that the new enemies were some sort of psychic illusion. The psyker was able to dispel the illusion without anything more serious than a temporary reversal of gravity happening, and the debatably-heroic trio escaped.

There'd been a few attempts to kill off the warp-fungus after that. Unfortunately between its caustic nature, the hallucinations, and the fact that it was hellishly hard to kill, all that was accomplished was getting a few more armsmen and a whole lot of servitors melted. Eventually someone suggested just voiding the bay, then leaving it open until the stuff died. That didn't actually work, but it did cause the stuff to go dormant unless something ventured into the bay. Since we didn't actually use the bay for anything, the Captain had decided that the problem was no longer pressing and we'd gotten back on our way.

As a precaution Ol' Bill had reinforced the seal on all the bay's doors and vents, and the only one allowed to go near it had been one of the senior tech-priests. The cogboy had some ideas about chemical sprayers deployed by servoskulls, and Jim said he'd made some real progress, but then the whole tech-heresy thing had come up...

ANYWAY, that's what the Space Marines just landed in. A bay full of psychically active, highly caustic, and incredibly hard to remove warp-fungus. Honestly though, it was still only the third worst thing on the Occurrence Border they could have landed in… our ship was definitely a little overdue for a tuneup.

Oh shit! It's happening!

File: sorry about your ride man.jpg (29 KB, 736x414)

29 KB JPG

>>40747843

Through an absolutely heroic amount of persuasion, Doc and the adepts managed to convince the Marines to abandon the bay. The second Marine, who identified himself as Sergeant Rebus, turned out to be very susceptible to logical arguments, and even helped talk Sergeant Gravis around before the fungus was able to melt through his boots. We still didn't forgive him for screwing up Sarge's initial attempt though, because even if Gravis was going to be fine, he'd cycled his shuttle's airlock twice in the warp-fungus bay. There was no way that bird wasn't contaminated as hell.

We watched as not one, but two shuttles rose out of the bay. Neither of them looked anything like the Thunderhawks we'd expected when they told us we'd be working with Space Marines. Aside from being incredibly sleek, both of them were completely black, and only visible because of our ship acting as a backdrop. One of them was definitely having a little trouble flying in a straight line though, and showed up as a faint ghost on the sensor techs' scopes. The other remained stubbornly invisible to all scanners as it settled in space in front of the bridge.

The decontamination process was not fast: the sprayer skulls had to be found and refilled, the contaminated shuttle had to be completely voided, and a holding area had to be set up. On top of that, the whole time this was going on, Sergeant Gravis and his shuttle's crew were, as Tink put it, tripping balls. Given how heavily armed they were, the situation was very uncomfortable, but luckily no one was killed and only one sprayer skull was destroyed.

After hours of tedious cleaning, not to mention angry shouting about who's fault this all was, our team met with the Space Marines in the Occurrence Border's fanciest conference room. Our planning session was short, direct, and absolutely terrifying.

File: 1391599732524.jpg (66 KB, 265x215)

66 KB JPG

>>40747843
We Dead Space, now.

File: not very chatty.jpg (126 KB, 800x518)

126 KB JPG

>>40747881

Sergeants Gravis and Rebus of the Emperor's Scythes Space Marines Chapter were not what you'd call socialites. In fact they were even more aloof than the few Marines we'd met previously. They stomped into the conference room still wearing their power armor, and didn't even bother to remove their helmets. It was unnerving as hell talking to them, and even Sarge couldn't hold onto his "Inquisitorial Dignity" in the face of those stares.

Rebus did most of the talking, and started by explaining that there were two main objectives and would be two separate teams. The first team would consist of him and his four scouts. The second would consist of Sergeant Gravis and his two scouts, one of which would be piloting the shuttle, plus Interrogator Sargent and his five Inquisitorial Guardsmen.

Sarge hesitantly asked if we'd need any support staff in the field. This triggered looks of terror from Jim, Hannah, and all of the adepts, but Rebus said that they wouldn't be necessary. From the far end of the table, Fumbles held up his hand and asked if he was coming. The Marine considered this, then asked if he was capable of using his powers while simultaneously fending off the Hive Mind's continuous psychic assault. Fumbles quietly put his hand back down.

After waiting a few seconds to see if anyone else would interrupt, Rebus started explaining what the two teams would be doing. Our team would go to the third planet in the system, then find and capture a Zoanthrope; his team would destroy the hive ship orbiting it. Everyone in the room just sat there and stared at the marines as Rebus started explaining the transportation situation and timeline. Tink managed to overcome his shock before anyone else, and loudly asked the marines if they were insane-slash-retarded.

Bets on the marines being contaminated with warp fungus?

File: your mission should you c(...).png (2.06 MB, 1331x908)

2.06 MB PNG

>>40747906

Aimy and Nubby snickered, and Doc hastily clapped a hand over Tink's mouth. Sarge took a deep breath, and asked Sergeant Rebus to explain why, and more importantly HOW, the marines were going to destroy an entire tyranid Hive Ship.

Rebus met Sarge's stare, and said his Chapter's primary interest in the system was ensuring that the Tyranids did not overwhelm the Orks and form a new splinter fleet. Capturing a live zoanthrope for the Inquisition was merely a side-mission, a small favor to be completed when convenient. As for how, his team would board the Hive Ship and destroy it from within; further details were not for those outside the chapter. All we needed to know what that the Ship would die after we captured the Zoanthrope, but before their psi-suppressants could wear off and allow the Hive Mind to destroy the beast.

As everyone digested this, Twitch broke his remarkably long silence. The demolitions trooper volunteered that the Marines probably had a vortex bomb, since an explosive would merely scatter still-living pieces of ship across the planet, and a poison or virus would require a lot of sampling plus a nearby laboratory. Both Marines glared at Twitch, who ignored them and went back to fiddling with the mine he was holding.

After some more awkward silence, Sergeant Rebus went back to explaining the mission details. Both teams would deploy in his stealth shuttle, since the warp-fungus had gotten into the control systems of Gravis'. First we'd insert his team on the hive ship, and then go down to the planet and capture the Zoanthrope. The Occurrence Border would follow us in on low power and stop at the edge of the Hive Ship's Shadow, where it could easily warp out in an emergency. If our mission went quickly we'd return to it and drop off our prize before the shuttle extracted Rebus' team, otherwise we'd pick them up on the way back.

>>40747881
Is there any chance of this "tripping balls" being described further? Because the mental image of a Loyalist Marine high as a kite sounds hilarious.

File: logic has no place here.png (172 KB, 500x404)

172 KB PNG

>>40747933

It slowly dawned on us that the Marines' plan called for us to sit, as helpless passengers, in a shuttle that would not only be carrying a notoriously unstable warp-weapon, but would also be closing to boarding range with a Hive Ship. Even without the swarm of Ork Fightas attacking the ship, and the fact that we might be making a second visit while that warp-weapon was actually armed, it sounded incredibly dangerous. With them, not to mention the whole capturing a xenos psyker thing, it sounded downright suicidal.

While the rest of us silently panicked, Doc hesitantly asked if it wouldn't make more sense to use both of the Marines' shuttles. Gravis, whose armor was sporting some truly impressive acid burns, glared at Doc and swore loud enough that we could hear him despite the fact that he didn't have his helmet's speakers on. He bitterly suggested that we should have thought of that before neglecting the maintenance of our ship's shuttle bays, and then fell back into his sullen silence.

Doc soldiered on despite this rebuttal, and asked whether the mission could be delayed until our tech-priests fixed the fungused shuttle. Jim and Hannah made some panicked gestures, which seemed to imply that they had no idea how the stealth-shuttle even worked, much less how to fix it. Rebus ignored them, gave Doc a simple "No", and announced that the briefing was over. We'd be leaving as soon as his Scouts finished transferring equipment to the shuttle and Gavis' field repairs were completed. One of Gravis' scouts would deliver our mission-critical gear and explain the capture procedure to us in the meantime.

With that the two Marines stomped out. One by one the Enginseers, adepts, and Fumbles followed them, leaving only us guardsmen sitting there, feeling like we'd lost all control of the situation.

YES! IT'S FUCKING ON!!!

>>40747964
>While the rest of us silently panicked, Doc hesitantly asked if it wouldn't make more sense to use both of the Marines' shuttles. Gravis, whose armor was sporting some truly impressive acid burns, glared at Doc and swore loud enough that we could hear him despite the fact that he didn't have his helmet's speakers on. He bitterly suggested that we should have thought of that before neglecting the maintenance of our ship's shuttle bays, and then fell back into his sullen silence.

I second this.

>>40747765
Interrogator Gregory Sargent: A true Sergeant's Sergeant!

>>40747610
Or being german.

>No Uni classes until 16:00 woooh.

>>40747622

fixed

>>40747900

Hmmm, not quite yet

>>40747964

They wouldn't tell us when we asked, they mostly just twitched a lot and had trouble listening to us

>>40747968
>Gavis
Gravis

Want me to keep noting typos like this to speed up editing?

File: deadspace0112.jpg (114 KB, 1804x1010)

114 KB JPG

>>40748084
...Oh dear.

>Space Marines are named Gravis and Rebus

>my-slightly-latin-fluent-sides.png

>>40748151
Explain?

>>40748172
Serious Matters.

Their names put together means Serious Matters.

>>40748172
Not him, but: Sergeants Serious and Business

>>40748188
>>40748205
That is fucking beautiful.

>>40748022
Brother! Are these...heretics!?

And Scout Sargeant Angmon?But..I cleaned my gear according to procedure!

>>40748151
Ahaha.

File: just kidding.jpg (28 KB, 247x239)

28 KB JPG

>>40747968

Now, we'd felt out of our depth before. Hell that'd been our default state of mind since the Inquisition drafted us. This was worse than usual though: the Marines had left us feeling like children. It wasn't embarrassment over the shuttle thing, that was at least as much their fault as ours, it was just that we felt incredibly outclassed by the three meter tall killing machines.

It was odd that the two Marines were so daunting, since as Twitch pointed out, we'd actually killed three Chaos Marines during our missions. Doc suggested that the issue was that they were on our side. The ones we'd killed were vile traitors deserving of nothing but scorn and death, but these two were physical manifestations of the Emperor's divine wrath. Or to put it more simply, we couldn't compensate for our discomfort by trying to kill them.

Twitch was half-way through suggesting that shooting the Marines just a little would make us feel better, when Gravis' Scout came in. That was a very awkward moment, but the Scout eventually accepted that it was just a little joke. None of us would even consider doing such a thing, and we certainly didn't dedicate large amounts of our time to planning complex betrayals of our allies. Well unless they were Eldar. Or tech-priests. Or deserters, cultists, hereteks, annoying Interrogators, commissars, rogue traders, rival Inquisitorial teams, or people who might be Orks in disguise.

But since Marines and their Scouts were none of these things, there was obviously nothing to worry about. Unless they really WERE Orks. They were much bigger and musclier than normal people after all...

Sarge put a stop to Twitch's newest paranoid fantasy before it got started, and asked the Scout what was in the crates on the pallet he was pushing. The Scout eyed us all dubiously, and said it was our Grav-Chutes.

All of us digested the horrible implications of those two words and went quiet. Except for Nubby that is, who was a little slower on the uptake.

File: screamy-fally-deaf-packs.jpg (103 KB, 438x807)

103 KB JPG

>Grav-whats?

Chutes

>What-shoots?

Grav-Chutes!

>What-whats?

You're guardsmen, you must know what Grav-Chutes are! You know: small, backpack-size anti-gravitic devices that allow Imperial troops to float safely to the ground on a column of anti-gravitic force from any height in a world's gravity well, including sub-orbital heights.

>Ohhhh you mean screamy-fally-deaf-packs. Yea we're familiar wif dose. Whatchu doin with em? Cause I know a guy who knows a guy...

They're for you to deploy from the shuttle with. You just said you're familiar with them, surely I don't need to draw you a picture.

>What? Are you mental? When I say "familiar" I mean we've pulled a buncha dem off deaders. None of us 'ave ever used one; you can tell, 'cause we're not pancake-shaped.

That's unfortunate, you have two hours to learn how to operate one. I'll assist in your training, is there a nearby cargo bay or lift shaft we can use?

>Sahhhhge, the baby Space Marine is tryin ta kill us Sahge. Why's everyone always trying ta kills us Sahge?

File: 1433258212736.jpg (399 KB, 1280x720)

399 KB JPG

>>40748342
>The Scout eyed us all dubiously, and said it was our Grav-Chutes.

>>40748342
>>40748371

Hey Shoggy, you've forgotten your name.

File: fuck fuck fuck.jpg (181 KB, 700x394)

181 KB JPG

>>40748371

The best term for our training with the Grav-Chutes was Crash Course. The Scout Marine made sure our chutes were on, walked us to the edge of the shaft, then pushed us off. He claimed it was how he'd been trained, and the man evidently saw no reason why non-superhumans should learn any differently. Sarge didn't let anyone argue, there wasn't time.

None of us enjoyed the experience of being thrown into a lift shaft with nothing but an underpowered anti-grav unit and a pair of tiny thrusters between us and pancakey-death. It's hard to say who did the worst: it was pretty much a three-way tie. Doc had so little control that he got stuck on a light fixture, and had to be rescued by the Scout Marine. The humiliation of being suspended by his pants half-way up the shaft was slightly overshadowed by the way that the Scout had just cut them off, and then insisted he keep practicing instead of getting a new pair.

While the Scout was busy with Doc's rescue, Tink decided that he could convert his chute to a full jump-pack using some of the techniques he'd picked up working on his drone. It turned out he was wrong; so much so in fact, that he had to be issued the only spare chute. Of course, Tink immediately declared that he knew what he'd done wrong, and started to retry the modifications using his replacement chute. Sarge had to take his tools away.

Finally, Aimy misinterpreted a suggestion to wear a helmet as a comment on her hair. She tried to deck the Scout, and found out a Space Marine's jaw is a lot tougher than any non-augmetic hand. Doc, still pantsless, checked her hand and said it wasn't broken, so Aimy grumpily resumed her training. For his part, the Scout Marine took the irrational attack in stride, but that was obviously the point where we lost the last of our credibility in his eyes.

>>40747704
>>40747780
Lots of Mapo Tofu in here.

>>40748428
Aimy decked a Space Marine.
God Emperor, what amusement.

File: listen up idiots.jpg (71 KB, 607x656)

71 KB JPG

>>40748428

Despite all the difficulties and our teacher's disgust with us, we all managed to get down the shaft safely a few times before the training ended. We gathered up our gear, got Doc some new pants, and made our way to the bay where the un-fungused stealth shuttle was being prepped. Once there the Scout Marine brought out an impressively large sniper rifle and explained how the Zoanthrope's capture would work. We noticed that unlike the previous lesson, this briefing consisted of nothing but short words and included a lot of hand gestures as well as a few pictures. None of us commented, but Aimy and Tink were obviously taking note of every little implied insult.

The gist of the plan was that the stealth shuttle would sweep over the battlefield until we saw a Zoanthrope. The shuttle would fly over the target, and then everyone but the pilot would deploy via Grav-Chute. From there, speed was the name of the game: the estimated mission length was ten minutes if our insertion was undetected, and three if it was. If we took any longer, Nid reinforcements would bury us.

Our squad would secure a perimeter, and hold it against any tyranids that came to support the Zoanthrope, while Sergeant Gravis wore down the xenos' pyschic-shield-bubble-thing. Once the shield was breached, the Scout would shoot the Zoanthrope with a specially tailored sedative and psi-suppressant, and then we'd all fall back to the nearest possible landing area for extraction.

It was the complete opposite of all the horribly complex ops we'd suffered through since joining the Inquisition: it was ultimate simple, straightforward plan. If it wasn't for the fact that we'd be outnumbered thousands to one, we'd have loved it. As it was though, there's no word for how much we hated that plan.

Honestly all of us, even Sarge, would have bailed if the two Space Marines hadn't shown up. None of us had the nerve to refuse the Astartes, so we boarded the shuttle and headed off to our certain deaths.

>>40748479
heaven's feel hype

File: trying to pray here guys.jpg (151 KB, 576x534)

151 KB JPG

>>40748505

The shuttle trip into the system was amazingly unpleasant. It wasn't that the stealth shuttle was crowded: there were only thirteen of us in it, or fifteen if you counted the seats taken by Spot and the Vortex Bomb, and the seats themselves weren't that bad either. Sure they were a little on the big side, but Space Marines definitely spare a bit more budget for comfort when building a ship than the Guard does. So the ship was fine, the problem was the atmosphere being generated by our fellow passengers. They were too quiet.

See, if it were a Guard shuttle everyone would've been complaining, joking, or smoking. Even the dryest Inquisition teams we'd been assigned to would've at least been doing some gear checks, or reminding us stupid guardsmen what our job was. The marines and their scouts just sat there and silently prayed or meditated or something. No talking, no moving, and hardly any breathing for hours upon bloody hours. You'd think we could just ignore it, but any time one of us made the slightest bit of noise the entire creepy lot would glare at us like, well, like noisy children in a chapel.

The silence wore on our nerves. There was nothing to do but think about the upcoming mission or stare at the ominous bulk of the Vortex Bomb, which was making the sort of unhearable noises we associated with a weak gellar field. We were all reaching our limit, and it was race to see if Twitch or Aimy would snap first, when Sarge decided that politeness was overrated. He commandeered one of Twitch's camo-tarps and hung it across the shuttle interior, walling away all the creepy super-humans except for Gravis' Scout. The big guy tried to glare us down by himself as we all started being as noisy as we damn well pleased, but we had him outnumbered, and Sarge threatened to put a second tarp over him if he kept it up.

brb taping down f5 key

File: frittering.jpg (87 KB, 400x300)

87 KB JPG

>>40748562

The remainder of our approach to the Tyranid hive ship was spent the usual ways. Tink tinkered with Spot 2.0, removing the overweight-skull-probe disguise and trying to get a few of the systems he and Fio hadn't finished kludging together functional. Doc wrote his usual soppy "if I die on this mission" letter to his girlfriend, while Aimy and Nubby read over his shoulder and made unhelpful suggestions. Twitch muttered to himself as he imagined hundreds of scenarios involving Tyranids and Orks. As his mind ran in it's crookeder-than-usual circles, he continuously moved gear and explosives between his bag and the massive pile of spares he'd brought. Sarge watched as we frittered away our time, and saw that it was good.

We all suffered a moment of heart failure as Sergeant Rebus tore down the tarp, followed by another when the homemade cluster-mine Twitch had been holding hit the floor. The Space Marine stood there and waited while we picked springs and, thank-the-Emperor unarmed, explosives out from under our seats. When the last bomblet had been collected, Rebus informed us that the shuttle was nearing the hive ship and would be switching to full stealth mode. We were to secure ourselves and our gear, put on our rebreathers, and stay out of his team's way while they deployed.

We did as ordered, and a few minutes later the shuttle ride went from boring to terrifying. The cabin switched to emergency lights, the vents stopped blowing, and the gravity deactivated. We floated in our seats for a few seconds, then the first "evasive maneuver" hit us. Let me tell you, no one thinks about those grav tied to a shuttle's engines seriously until they're turned off. Instead of the usual little jolts of spillover, they were as long, continuous pulls in seemingly random directions. We felt completely helpless as we bounced and swung in our crash harnesses, then Tink decided it might be better if we could see what was coming and anticipate the maneuvers. It was not.

>>40748562
Golden.

Why did your GM choose the Emperors Scythes by the way?

Happy that he did though, cool guys.

>>40748628
Could you imagine how fast they'd be dead if they got one of the more assholish chapters?

The Marines Malevolent would take one look at the ship and blow it up.

>>40748655
Alternatively, since the MM are supposedly about cold pragmatism, the AGP might actually gain some grudging respect.

>>40748655
They COULD have gotten the Salamanders though.
But yeah....or the Minotaurs...ugh..

>>40748707
Oh god, the Space Yiffs would probably love them

>>40748700
I don't know, if you aren't a highly trained acid speaking super-human they sort of hate you for your percieved weakness...right?

>>40748725
Imagine the AGP drinking Space Wolf alcohol. Imagine Nubby starting to make it for profit.

>>40748725
But they would have wolfed their wolves to much.

The worst part is, its actually getting worse.

>Storm Wolf

Fucking Hell , GW.

>>40748728
Point. However, Twitches trapmaking and the impossible effectiveness might make them think twice after the MM lose a few limbs.

>>40748725
they'd probably try to make them see how better things would be if they had wolf pelts and iconography added onto everything.

they'd also try to tap Aimy

>>40748735
I already was.
I applaud the GM's decision to use an underexposed Chapter, but the lulz of the AGP bro'ing it up with Woofs would be worth meeting some

>>40748735
We all know that Nubby would get on best with the Blood ravens.

>>40748775
If they actually injured one of them, they'd get an exterminatus declared on them. MM are fucking insane.

>>40748725
Or the Bloody Magpies.
The Reasonable Marines, played totally seriously, would have been hilarious.

>>40748788
>Nubby being declared an honorary blood raven
just imagine

File: 1344750702308.jpg (26 KB, 499x334)

26 KB JPG

>>40748371
>Sahhhhge, the baby Space Marine is tryin ta kill us Sahge. Why's everyone always trying ta kills us Sahge?

>>40748825
> Honorary
>> Implying they wouldn't drag him off for induction.

>>40748832
>watermark
that site is still up?

>>40748808
Point. MM are supposed to be about pragmatism, but they're really just selfish dicks.

What's a chapter that WOULD react well to that? You haven't really met the AGP until you've almost lost a limb to an explosive booby trap.

>>40748890
Raptors? Doom Eagles? I dunno

File: you gotta imagine the orks.jpg (78 KB, 778x624)

78 KB JPG

>>40748591

Who knows what the Marines and Scouts thought when Spot 2.0 drifted past them and entered the cockpit, they didn't actually say anything about it, and were already glaring at us for how loudly we were complaining about the turbulence. Anyway, they seemed just as interested as us when Tink projected the drone's vid feed on the front bulkhead.

We all stared at the image of the massive Tyranid bioship looming in front of us, and then at the smaller shapes swarming around it. It was hard to say if there were more Ork Fightas or Tyranid fliers, and either way there was a constant stream of reinforcements rising from the planet and spewing from the Hive Ship. It was complete chaos: the space around the hive-ship was filled with rokkits, shells, bio-plasma, pyro-acid, and millions of tonnes of wildly spinning debris; and for some reason, we were flying right into it.

Bloody Space Marines.

All of us just sat there and stared, and then we saw the cause of one of those evasive maneuvers. A speck suddenly grew into a Fighta, and then zipped past by such a thin margin that we could see the Ork piloting it. A split second later it was followed by a stream of bio-plasma and a Tyranid interceptor. Doc swallowed, Twitch whimpered, and Aimy swore.

Variations of that scene repeated dozens of times as we closed with the Hive Ship. It's hard to say which was more amazing: the way the Scout Marine pilot twisted away from every impact with bare meters to spare, or the fact that none of the hostiles saw our shuttle, even while nearly colliding with it. Our slow approach to the Hive Ship through that space battle was a terrifying and humbling reminder that, if Guardsmen's nerves are steel, Space Marines' are Adamantium.

Not that we actually had what you might call Nerves of Steel, all of us were scared shitless. And when the pilot took cover from a pyro-acid barrage behind a Landa that was visibly filled with Kommandos, Twitch went from scared to full on Freaking Out, Man.

>>40748890
Dark Angels, maybe? They might be able to sympathize with a fellow paranoid.

Just replace Orks with Fallen and any of Twitch's delusional rants would fit them.

File: freakin out man.jpg (400 KB, 1000x1288)

400 KB JPG

>>40748976

When Twitch started gibbering Sarge barked orders at Tink and Doc to turn off the projection and prep a tranq, but none of us had anywhere near the same speed as the panicked demolitions trooper. In a startlingly short amount of time, Twitch had cut his way out of his crash harness, and relocated to a "more defensible position," leaving a trail of detpacks floating the air behind him. Said defensible position turned out to be the small amount of space between the Vortex Bomb and the seat that held it.

Sarge immediately undid his own restraints and launched himself across the shuttle, only to wind up pinned against a pair of unhappy Scout Marines as the pilot evaded something or other. A rain of detpacks landed on everyone on that side of the shuttle, Guardsman and Marine alike, and Sergeant Gravis decided that enough was a enough. The Space Marine's boots adhered to the floor with a deep clang as he left his seat.

Most of us watched in amazement as the Space Marine slowly stomped across what the shuttle's acceleration meant was actually a wall. Twitch though, was too busy with his paranoid panic attack to notice, until a massive hand snapped out pulled the detonator from his grip, that is.

Sergeant Gravis had probably thought that removing the detonator would neatly, er, defuse the situation. He was completely wrong of course, but the theft did focus Twitch's attention on him instead of imaginary Kommandos. Unfortunately, that attention took the form of a thrown object, which adhered to the Space Marine's hand when he tried to bat it away.

>>40749001
twitch please

File: eeesh put the helmet back on.jpg (75 KB, 606x610)

75 KB JPG

>>40749001

We could practically hear the gears in Sergeant Gravis' head whirring as he registered the detpack stuck to his palm and the two detonators which had practically materialized in Twitch's hands. The giant in the acid-pocked armor stared into the wild eyes of the demolitions trooper who was currently lying across a Vortex Bomb and accusing him of being One Of Them, and decided that intimidation and force were not viable options. So, in the gentlest voice a half-tonne hybrid of man and tank can manage, he tried reason.

Gravis started by asking Twitch to calm down, that worked about as well as you'd expect. The Space Marine then tried explaining that there were no enemies in the shuttle, everyone here was Twitch's ally. Twitch's responded by chucking another detpack at him and screaming "THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY, THEN THE MASK COMES OFF!" This seemed to confuse Gravis, so Doc helpfully explained that he'd just been accused of being an Ork in disguise. Gravis pointed out that Twitch was obviously insane, which won him yet another detpack and a scream of "THEY ALL SAY THAT TOO!"

At that point Gravis must have been losing confidence in his strategy, because he turned as asked the rest of us what to do. Nubby, Aimy, and Tink all simultaneously made unhelpful suggestions, and Sarge was busy clinging onto Sergeant Rebus' seat as yet another evasive maneuver tried to fling him across the shuttle. Doc told the Marine he was doing fine: this sort of argument was pretty much the standard operating procedure if no one managed to tranq Twitch before he got the explosives out. He suggested that Gravis continue by taking off his helmet and proving he wasn't an Ork. Twitch agreed that the Ork should show us his real face. So he did.

Tink's shout of "WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR-" was cut off by Doc's hand. Aimy cackled, until Nubby pointed out that the Marine still had most of his hair. Sarge asked what was going on, and Twitch admitted that Gravis wasn't an Ork. Probably.

File: 1431755113924.jpg (5 KB, 200x194)

5 KB JPG

>>40749001
aw shit.

File: glorious victories my ass.jpg (99 KB, 750x600)

99 KB JPG

>>40749024

In the incredibly awkward silence that followed, Sergeant Gravis put his helmet back on, his Scout Marine glared at us, and Twitch asked if someone would help him off the Vortex Bomb. He was stuck.

Gravis collected both Twitch and Sarge, who was still clinging to the meditating Sergeant Rebus for dear life, and deposited them both in their seats. As the Marine stomped around, he talked to us, giving us a morale boosting lecture he claimed was given to him as an acolyte on his first boarding mission. We were instructed not to worry about what we couldn't control, and to focus on remember glorious victories of the Chapter, or in our case, the Cadian Regiments. Nubby asked what was so special about those nutters.

This caused a pause in the motivational speech. It was eventually established that our regiment wasn't from Cadia, Catachan, Krieg, Elysia, Maccabeus, Mordian, Tallarn, Vostroya, or any other world famous for it's contribution to the Guard. Furthermore our regiment had never accomplished anything other than serving as cannon fodder for more important Imperial Forces. No glorious victories for us.

At an indignant objection from our markswoman, this was adjusted to: "No glorious victories for anyone except Aimy and her Nobby Regiment of Nobby Nobs."

Sergeant Gravis stared at us, then asked what in the Emperor's name we were doing in the Inquisition. Sarge sighed, picked at a stray detpack which had adhered to his sleeve, and admitted that not a day went by that he didn't ask himself that same question.

>>40748997
Asmodai would probably see Twitch as a kindred spirit. And then accuse them all of being Fallen because they survived, well, any of these missions.

File: yea rub it all over yourself.png (143 KB, 554x564)

143 KB PNG

>>40749058

The rest of the approach to the Hive ship passed without incident. At least as far as us passengers were concerned that is, the pilot definitely had to dodge a whole lot of something over the last few minutes though. Thank the Emperor Tink never turned the vid feed back on.

At a word from the pilot Sergeant Rebus and his four Scout Marines sprang out of their seats and positioned themselves around the Vortex Bomb. A few moments later there was a squishy impact, and the stealth shuttle's rear door opened to reveal a pulsating wall of flesh-stuff. The Scouts painted it with something, Rebus stabbed it with his power sword, and a gap was pried open.

To our disgust, the five-Marine boarding party then smeared themselves with the juices running from the gap. Once they, and the Vortex Bomb, were good and covered, they pulled on some Cameleoline Cloaks that looked far better than any that had ever been issued to us lowly Guardsmen, and climbed through. Sergeant Gravis planted a probe-looking device in the gap behind them, and then sealed it with some big staple-things and some chemical spray.

When the gap was closed, we heard Gravis and Rebus do a comm check and schedule the pickup. Then the shuttle's door silently closed and we started drifting away. From docking to undocking, the whole boarding operation took just under five minutes. It the most impressive display of efficient professionalism we'd ever seen, but I'm not sure any of drew a breath during the whole thing. We all prayed to Emperor that we wouldn't have to be on the shuttle during their pickup.

There's a moral about getting what you wish for in there somewhere.

>>40749110
That foreshadowing tho

Loving it so far.

>>40749110
>There's a moral about getting what you wish for in there somewhere.

I think I hear the Foreshadowtron 3000 firing up...

>>40749058
>Sergeant Gravis stared at us, then asked what in the Emperor's name we were doing in the Inquisition. Sarge sighed, picked at a stray detpack which had adhered to his sleeve, and admitted that not a day went by that he didn't ask himself that same question.


Even Marines are baffled!

>There's a moral about getting what you wish for in there somewhere.
Aww shit

>>40748397

thanks

>>40748131

go for it, I have a lot of trouble seeing those myself

>>40748628

I think because they're sort of the Tyranid specialists in that sector of space, and are at that sweet spot canon-wise where he can both look and make stuff up

>>40749143
>>40749148

I AM A VERY SUBTLE WRITER

>grabbing images, slight slowdown

I hear the Doom Bell toll.

>>40749213
>I AM A VERY SUBTLE WRITER
Subtlety is no virtue in the service of the Emperor!

>>40749178
True, competent allies...

>>40749213
Neat, congratulate him on his choice.

File: Spoiler Image (362 KB, 436x630)

362 KB PNG

>>40749309
Ahem >>40747707

Not gonna lie I feel so fucking lucky. I havent been on tg in months. The first time back and I get the all guardsmen party show. Thats beautiful.

>>40749355
this reference is a bit too subtle for me.

>>40749355
His tactics are too subtle, and we all suffer a sneeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaak attack!

Hmm. Now I'm just thinking oinkbane in terminator armor

>>40749213

These stories are hilarious, and inspire me to try my own hand at running an "All Something" game.

Great to see one of these again, Shoggy. Was getting a tad worried.

Fun fact for you! These stories have inspired me to have my character in Black Crusade try to convert and take the inquisition down from the inside out! Should be fun!

It's less crazy than it sounds with context.

So that thing with the Warp Moss: Was that a Mini-Campaign or a random encounter? And how often do you guys play though the "Occurrence Border Experience"'s?

>>40749415
that reminds me, I never got closure on that "All Nic Cage" group from a while back. wonder what happened with that

>>40749415
reminds me of the All Barbarian one-shot story i read on here where in the end they nuked an eldritch spawn into the astral plane

>>40749471
The one about the dwarf ending up in hell and getting rescued, then they both end up in Valhalla?

>>40749471
We must hear more.

>>40749457
Sounds like a good, adventurous way to grind.

>>40749492
yea, that one

File: All Barbarian Party 1.png (634 KB, 1584x3736)

634 KB PNG

>>40749496
>>40749471

Not the same anon, but here.

Part 1

File: All Barbarian Party 2.png (474 KB, 1568x3282)

474 KB PNG

>>40749537
and 2

>>40749457
>>40749496
>Sounds like a good, adventurous way to grind.

I kind of think you could almost make a campaign, or at least an arc, around the Occurence Border Experience.

Oh wait, that's called "The All Guardsmen Party Buys a Ship." :)

File: this is a horrible place (...).jpg (132 KB, 640x337)

132 KB JPG

>>40749110

We descended to the planet alongside the hail of spores spewing from the Hive Ship. It went a lot faster, and required fewer evasive maneuvers, than our approach had, which was good for our frayed nerves. Now that Sergeant Rebus and his team of suicidal supermen had departed, Gravis and his scouts became a little more chatty.

The Scout piloting the shuttle brought the gravity up enough to keep us in our seats, and told Gravis that he was starting scans. Gravis brought out an Auspex, and began staring at it with the other Scout. They didn't seem to think that we really needed to take part in the discussion, but when Tink sent his drone to hover over their shoulders, Gravis decided it was easier just to let us participate.

Gravis and his two scouts were searching the battlefield below us for signs of Zoanthropes; specifically they were looking for big-ol bolts of warp-lighting which could be traced back to the xenos psyker firing them. That sounds fairly simple, but given how far up we still were and how much of a mess the battlefield was, we decided that it was pointless to try and help. While the marines strained their eyes, the rest of us concentrated the sort of things us lowly guardsmen find important, namely weather, terrain, and hostile positions. These turned out to be: acid rain, wasteland with giant spiky rocks, and everywhere. In short, it wasn't a place we wanted to get anywhere near, much less drop onto via grav-chute.

Nubby and Tink started the argument by complaining about the suicidal nature of the mission and suggesting that we just lie on the report, which prompted the Scout Marine to tell us all to grow a backbone and a proper sense of duty. Aimy told him where he could stick his backbone and sense of duty, and things went downhill from there. Sadly there wasn't time to get a real good fight going: we only managed a bit of namecalling and a few anatomically-improbable threats before Gravis finally spotted some warp-lighting.

File: it's a mess down there.png (674 KB, 708x502)

674 KB PNG

>>40749657

Sarge, Doc, and Twitch stared at the dataslate with the Marine. The section of battlefield he was looking at was a complete free-for-all between the Orks and Nids, and a particularly dense cluster of jagged rocks was emitting bursts of lighting. Gravis said that the frequency of the bolts indicated it was a lone psyker, and went on to point out that the position was not strongly defended against an airborne insertion. He suggested that we move on the target immediately, before it was killed or the battle shifted, but Doc and Sarge didn't like that they couldn't see inside the pile of rock the psyker was hiding in, and Twitch was Twitch.

Sarge asked Gravis how sure he was that A: there wasn't a whole hive's worth of nids in there and, at Twitch's insistence, B: that the lighting-shooting xenos wasn't actually an Ork. Gravis just glared at us and said he was 73% certain that this was an acceptable target. Our fearless leader tried to stare down the Space Marine for about five seconds, then decided that this sort of decision, not to mention arguing with Astartes, was above his paygrade.

Sarge rounded on the rest of us, and started bellowing orders to prep for deployment. Tink got Spot stealthed up and verified that our scopes were synced, Nubby and Aimy flung a final few insults at the Scout Marine, Doc tried to remember which button was which on his Grav-Chute, and Twitch angrily grabbed a last armful of explosives while muttering about no one taking Orks seriously. When everyone was ready, we formed up behind Sergeant Gravis and his Scout. A few minutes later, the shuttle hatch slammed open.

The Space Marine stepped out into the air and dropped out of sight. Sarge followed him to the edge, looked down, and froze as he saw just how far down and covered-with-pointy-things-and-xenos the ground was. Then the Scout Marine pushed him.

File: except covered with pokey(...).jpg (92 KB, 640x346)

92 KB JPG

>>40749684

Now, just to be clear, while there are entire regiments of Guardsmen dedicated to doing grav-drops, the rest of us think they're insane. Even your average Catachan will call an Elysian, or any other type of drop-trooper, an adrenaline-hungry madman. And mind you, that's coming from someone who would gleefully try to kill a Warboss with nothing but a combat knife. I mean, who in their right man flies all the way to the battlefield in a perfectly functional shuttle, then jumps out of it while it's still half a klick off the ground?

Anyway, dropping through the air towards a pile of rocks that resembled nothing so much as a giant daemonic hedgehog was not on the list of things we'd joined the Guard to do. The fact that there was a hostile psyker inside said rocks, not to mention the bloody melee of Orks and Tyranids around them, did not make it any more attractive. If it wasn't for the fact that Sergeant Gravis was already on the ground and clearing our landing area, we all would have stayed in that shuttle. Also the Scout Marine kept pushing us.

Despite how unpleasant we found the drop, the painfully direct training we'd received meant we all made it down in one piece. One piece doesn't mean cleanly though: only Sarge and Nubby made what could be good landings, and that's only if you count landing on an unsuspecting Ork and Hormagaunt as good. Doc and Aimy wound up colliding with each other in the air, and made an awkward dual landing on one of the spires. Aimy managed to stick the landing and started picking off targets, but Doc wound up sliding off and bouncing to the ground like a terrified pinball. Tink outright stopped his descent by having Spot come up under him. He happily shot into the melee from his perch, until a fleshborer to the leg reminded that hanging in the air, where there is no cover and everyone can see you, is a terrible idea. Luckily, he landed next to Doc.

Twitch did not hit anything, but he swerved around a lot for some reason.

>>40749613
Playing a group of tech-acolytes aboard the ship could be fun.

File: wonder whats inside.png (256 KB, 534x400)

256 KB PNG

>>40749736

Sergeant Gravis had cleared us a beachhead, and those of us who hadn't gotten shot or cracked a rib on the way down widened it. That was our first chance to use the pulse weapons Tink and Fio had disguised for us on soft targets, and it was glorious. No heresy intended, but Tau carbines blow lasguns out of the water: they hit harder than a hot-shot, and reload easier too. We were dropping Nids and Orks left and right, and it was gratifying to see Sergeant Gravis stop and stare at us when he ran out of enemies.

The Space Marine didn't stop for long, or ask about our sexier-than-standard-issue weapons. Once he was sure we had the perimeter on lockdown, he switched to his Power Sword, and made his way towards the cluster of fallen spires that was occasionally illuminated by blasts of lightning. The Scout, who was perched similarly to Aimy and had stolen at least three of "her" kills, started following his boss by jumping from spire to spire.

The official plan called for us to leave them to it, we were just supposed to secure a landing area for the shuttle and keep reinforcements out. We were doing far better than expected though, and Sarge started feeling all "I'm this Big Inquisition Guy who actually helps instead of just following orders," so he followed Gravis to lend a hand with the Zoanthrope, and Twitch tagged along for his own reasons. The rest of us were more than happy to stay put and keep shooting any Orks or Tyranids that wandered our way.

Looking back, holding that perimeter was far too easy. There was never a concentrated attack on our position, just the occasional xenos who retreated in our direction or was checking out what all the plasma fire was coming from. We'd thought that the xenos were just keeping each other busy: the Tyranids weren't pouring in to reinforce their psychic artillery unit because the Orks were in the way. We didn't realize that something had gone wrong until Sergeant Gravis flew out the side of the rock pile.

File: Spoiler Image (17 KB, 480x357)

17 KB JPG

>>40747009

>>40749786
Get out, you're ruining story time.

File: we did not look at it.png (738 KB, 1280x544)

738 KB PNG

>>40749776

Well, not "flew" exactly, more like "was thrown". Something like a tonne and a half of Power-Armored Space Marine sailed through the air like a thing that is very bad at sailing, crashed through four of the smaller rock pillars, and barely activated its Grav-Chute in time to dodge a fatal collision with the larger fifth.

Doc tried to ask Sarge what the hell had just happened, but our fearless leader was busy screaming, swearing, and firing his pulse-carbine on full auto. When Doc tried again Twitch cut in, and in a slightly hysterical tone, told us that Sarge was busy right now. He suggested that anyone who wanted to live should get some cover between themselves and the rock pile; we didn't need telling twice.

Since we were keeping our heads as far down as was anatomically possible, and it turned out that Sarge was half-blind and Twitch wound up getting a nasty concussion, no one really saw what happened next. Luckily Spot recorded the whole thing.

A few seconds after Twitch's warning, he and Sarge came out of the rock pile at a dead sprint. They dove behind the first pillars they could find, and a split second later entire cluster of collapsed pillars exploded. Three green, glowing projectiles were propelled out of the hole Sarge and Twitch had exited, and splattered apart against the rock Aimy was perched on. One of them, or a random piece of debris, must have clipped Twitch's pillar too, because a sizable chunk broke off the top and nailed him on the helmet. He managed a dazed "Told you so" before collapsing.

In the aftermath, Doc ran over to check on Twitch and Sarge. The rest of us rest of us kept our eyes on the perimeter, except for Aimy. She descended from her gore-covered perch with a cry of "Oh god, it's everywhere. I think some got down my shirt. Tell me this isn't mashed Tyranids." Sarge blearily sat up, and told her not to worry: it was only mashed Orks. That did not improve Aimy's mood.

File: Spoiler Image (163 KB, 500x313)

163 KB PNG

>>40749798

File: but with rocks.jpg (52 KB, 480x350)

52 KB JPG

>>40749799

Sarge commed Gravis, verified that both the Marines had survived the blast, and made sure the shuttle was on its way to pick us back up. While we waited, and shot the occasional Ork or Nid that took an interest in us, Sarge explained what had happened inside the rock pile.

Sarge had followed Gravis down a sort of tunnel that headed towards where the warp-lighting was coming from. The Space Marine had been sprinting ahead, and had obviously intended to rush the psyker with his Power Sword before it could notice and fry him with lightning. Sarge caught up just in time to see Gravis exit the tunnel and pull of the "close to melee range" part of the plan, but the xenos psyker hadn't been the frail ranged-support unit they'd expected. Instead, Sergeant Gravis wound up face to face with a big ol' psychic, not to mention psychotic and psychopathic, Ork.

To the Space Marine's credit, he hadn't hesitated at all. He'd waded right in and started chopping and stabbing while Sarge gave covering fire. Unfortunately, the Weirdboy had a bunch of bodyguards, and they bought him enough time to do some warpy stuff. Sarge said the moral of the story was: if a warp-energy infused Ork charges you with supernatural speed and a big glowy stick, it is a far better idea to dodge his swing than to try to block it with your Power Sword.

So when the Space Marine got knocked out of the park, Sarge'd decided it was time to leg it. He'd made liberal use of his flash grenades, and nearly ran into Twitch on his way out. Twitch had apparently been picking out the detonators for the detpacks he'd, without bothering to tell anyone, dropped all over the rock pile on his way down. Anyway, Sarge'd held the Weirdboy and his surviving minders off long enough for Twitch to sort out which button he wanted to press, and they got out of the pile a few seconds ahead of the explosion. The Orks hadn't, which was why Aimy was picking pieces of them off her armor.

File: didja gettim.jpg (41 KB, 311x300)

41 KB JPG

>>40749837

Sergeant Gravis and his Scout rejoined us just as Sarge finished his story. Nubby, ever the diplomat, asked if their bug hunt had gone as well as our perimeter-securing had. Aimy and Tink snickered, but Sarge shut the three of them up: the two Marines didn't look like they were the mood for any bullshit.

Between the acid damage and the new set of dents and scratches, Gravis' armor was beginning to look rather ragged, and the Scout looked even worse. He'd apparently been trying to find a hole in the top of the pile to snipe through, and didn't have the same hard-wired response to a warning from Twitch that us guardsmen did. His stealth cloak was completely ruined, plus there were at least two sizable holes in his carapace armour. He was still alive though, and rather rudely turned down Doc's offer to patch him up, so we figured he was fine and had learned an important lesson about warnings from demolitions troopers.

The stealth shuttle dropped out of the clouds above us, and we got back into the air without further incident. All of us more or less collapsed into the oversized seats. Despite the fact that we'd only been on the ground for about fifteen minutes, and only two us had been noticeably injured, we were exhausted. Our rest didn't last long though. Despite the perfectly reasonable suggestions some of us made concerning calling the mission off and pinning the blame on mister "73% certain it's an acceptable target," Sarge and Gravis both immediately started searching for another xenos psyker.

>>40749736
>who in their right man
who in their right mind

>>40749864
Twitch was right again. It's beginning to worry me how often that happens.

>>40749903

its always orks.

File: Nightly News.jpg (95 KB, 500x278)

95 KB JPG

>>40749961
Does Twitch have a Twitch Field that makes all of his beliefs eventually happen?

Find out at 11.

>>40749415
>>40749417

That's really cool to hear.

>>40749457

Mini campaign, there's a bunch of unspecified wandering around the OB going on between missions. When the DM decides that something that happened is important plotwise, he throws together a short mission and we retroactively play through it.

>>40749765

Yea, it probably would. Just have the DM read that shitty spaceship quirk thread, and let him run wild.

File: Reaction - Pokemon glory.jpg (125 KB, 485x361)

125 KB JPG

>>40749537
>applause

>>40749998
>Heretek fleet
Sarge too.

>>40749998
Nascent psyker. When do you think the black ships are gonna come for him?

>>40749998
>>40750035
>>40750038

Now all we need is to run into a psychic heretek 'eirdMek Boyz

It sounds like the GM was TRYING to kill you all off...

>>40750069
That should always be a GM's goal. Just not impossibly so. There should always be a threat of death to the game.

>>40750038
Probably never. If they figured out he was a psyker, they'd probably also have figured out he was insanely paranoid and insanely good with explosives, and just decide to leave him alone

>>40750069
Remember the backstory anon.

File: 0065545.gif (622 KB, 375x211)

622 KB GIF

>>40749776
>sexier-than-standard-issue weapons
yessssss

Thisis getting better and better

>>40750015
>Yea, it probably would. Just have the DM read that shitty spaceship quirk thread, and let him run wild.

Could you have your GM throw together a few lists of "Notable locations" and "random events tables" that capture the true majesty of the Occurrence Border Experience?

>>40750277
Seconding. I'd love to play this, if anyone's interested in running it, but I might be able to find time to give running it a shot.
All cogboy party, anyone?

File: couldnt find a drawfag.png (331 KB, 496x595)

331 KB PNG

>>40749864

By the time we'd finished reloading, they'd found a slightly-less-rock-covered hilltop that was emitting lighting. This time we had a clear view, and the lighting was obviously coming from a snakey-looking xenos which perfectly matched the images of Zoanthropes we'd seen. Gravis and his Scout did not find it amusing when Sarge asked for Twitch's opinion anyway. Luckily for for everyone's nerves, Twitch was too concussed to be smug, and simply agreed that the bug looked like a bug.

As our shuttle neared the hill we realized that this drop was going to be nastier than the last. This time, instead of a free-for-all, the hill was clearly in Tyranid hands/claws/whatever, and it looked fairly critical to the local battle with the greenskins. The Nids definitely weren't going to let us wipe out their artillery without a fight: they'd reinforce it as heavily as they could manage. Perimeter duty would not be another cakewalk, and if it took too long to subdue the psyker, we'd be up to our asses in bugs.

Sarge quickly split us into pairs, assigned us to the three main approaches to the hill, and convinced Twitch to share his mines with us. We'd clear the area, push out, then plant the mines and fall back towards the top if things got hairy. Before anything more complex could be put together, we reached the DZ.

Sergeant Gravis was the first one down again. He leaned out the rear hatch, sighted the Zoanthrope, and pretty much dropped right on top of the psyker. The rest of us followed as quickly and professionally as we could manage, none of us even had be pushed out of the shuttle by the Scout this time.

File: wrong chapter.jpg (215 KB, 413x644)

215 KB JPG

>>40750342

Every single one of us landed with our weapons firing. There were seven or eight Termagaunts keeping the Zoanthrope company, and only one of them was still alive when we hit the ground. Sarge finished that one off, and we all fanned out towards our assigned areas.

We moved fast, motivated by a desire to get our chokepoints set up before reinforcements arrived, and to get something solid between us and Gravis' fight with the Zoanthrope. Honestly we hadn't taken the Space Marine too seriously up to that point. I mean we respected him and found him daunting as hell, but his combat performance in the last drop hadn't been up to the stories you hear about Space Marines. His fight with the Tyranid Psyker though, that was something to tell your grandkids about.

In the few seconds we saw him fighting before we got under cover, Sergeant Gravis baited out and dodged three massive lightning bolts, scored twice as many hits on the Xenos' shield bubble, and generally moved with more speed and grace than should have been possible. Abstractly we'd known that the Emperor's Scythes Chapter were the best experts available when it came to fighting Tyranids, but watching Gravis play that Zoanthrope like a fiddle really drove it home. We all would have stopped to spectate, if the Zoanthropes misses weren't blowing the rocks near us into red-hot shrapnel that is.

Anyway, we all got the hell off that hilltop and into position. Spot stayed up high, and gave us a good view of the incoming reinforcements as we set our mines and found the best lines of fire. We all finished our preparations just in time, and started mowing down the first wave of Tyranids as they climbed the hill.

OMFG I JUST REALIZED THIS MISSION IS INSPIRED OFF THE FIRST STARSHIP TROOPERS MOVIE

FIND THE BRAIN BUG!

>>40750414
Oh my god you're right.

Shoggy's DM is a god.

File: inc.png (157 KB, 500x400)

157 KB PNG

>>40750363

That first wave was nothing but the Gaunts, both varieties, that had been near the hill. Thanks to the wonderful nature of chokepoints, not to mention good firing positions and techno-heretically awesome weapons, we were able to kill them all before they managed to shoot or claw us. That's not to say that we actually killed ALL of the Tyranids, Nids don't tend to run out of bodies to throw at a problem, but we did convince them to rethink their strategy. Once the choke points were too, well, choked with their bodies for any more to get past, the Gaunts broke off to wait for heavier reinforcements.

Now, we'd been in this sort of fight with Nids before. Back when we were actually in the Guard we'd fought a memorable, and debatably successful, defensive battle against the bugs. So, we knew what would almost certainly come next: Warriors, possibly with Ravener or Gargoyle support. On our respective sides of the hill, Aimy, Nubby, and Tink all moved to elevated positions and helped Spot watch for the higher lifeforms. Meanwhile, those of us still on the ground made sure the mines and our next positions were ready, and Sarge checked in with Gravis and his Scout. The Marines were still working on wearing down the Zoanthrope's shields without killing it, and asked us not to distract them again. We all made some rather unkind comments at that last part, but refrained from transmitting.

Spot the Wonder Drone tagged the second wave on its way in, and as we'd guessed, there were some Warriors directing the charge from behind the initial meatshield. The Guard has a Standard Combat Doctrine for pretty much every situation. While most of these are not very individual-Guardsman-friendly, the one for that sort of attack is a good'un, so for once we did things by the book. Admittedly said book is rather short, but that just means it's easy to remember. The three of us that had moved into sniper positions held our fire, and prepared to "Shoot the Big One First."

>>40750414
>>40750426

...

...

...

fuck... i feel slow as shit for not spotting that...

File: Oinkbane the Deadly.png (502 KB, 800x1517)

502 KB PNG

>>40749387
SNEEEAAAAAAAAK ATTAAAAAAAAACK!

>>40750432
>"Shoot the Big One First"

My god! Good Advice from the Primer! It's a Miracle!

>>40750426
>tfw you'll never game with shoggy's group
>tfw you will never have anything as close to the magical games they have
>tfw you will always have all your games ruined by That Guys and fetishists
>tfw all you can do is wait for shoggy's story times and delight in the perfection of their group and game and despair you will never find such perfection

why live except to read these stories

File: GET SOME.jpg (250 KB, 712x922)

250 KB JPG

>>40750432

On Doc and Tink's flank, an overcharged, Tau-laser-thingy-guided plasma bolt turned their Warrior into chunky salsa. Over on Aimy and Twitch's, a precision headshot from our actually-quite-talented markswoman took out theirs. With the synapse creatures dead, the Gaunts lost cohesion and both pairs of guardsmen easily mowed them down. Unfortunately the sniper on the third flank was Nubby, who didn't have Tink's anti-armor weapon or Aimy's accuracy.

A very angry, if rather burnt and bloody, Tyranid Warrior immediately returned fire with one of those big bee-gun things, pinning Nubby down on his sniper perch. Sarge tried to hold off the incoming wave himself, making heavy use of his grenades and the chokepoint, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't going to work. Sarge commed the rest of us and, over Nubby's shrill screaming, asked if anyone could give him support before he had to blow his mines and relocate.

The rest of us were still rather busy with our mop-ups, and reinforcing Sarge meant crossing the Zoanthrope infested hilltop, so we all declined. It seemed like Sarge was going to have to give up his flank's safety margin, and he was getting ready blow his mines and pull Nubby out, when the Scout Marine told him to hold a little longer. Sarge managed it. He wound up having to use his boots to keep an especially persistent Gaunt off while he reloaded, and his armour and beefiness barely saved him from a few fleshborer hits, but he managed it. Right as things were getting downright dire, the Warrior and several nearby Gaunts went down to an amazing display of precision shooting.

Nubby finally got his ass out of cover, and helped Sarge turn the tide back around as the Scout returned to the Zoanthrope fight. Things were looking pretty good, even if we could see the third wave mustering near the bottom of the hill. Good changed to Great when we heard Gravis say the Zoanthrope's shield was almost down.

And then everything went to shit.

>>40750475
Don't feel too bad, Shoggy.

I ran an entire story arc of my Star Wars game which was based off Anno 2070. I even NAMED THE FREAKING PLANET ANNO.

It still took my players four sessions to add 1 to 1 and sum to 2.

Since all five of you were active PCs, was the DM running Aimy?

And waitasec, didn't Tink get shot with a fleshborer earlier? Should he be missing a leg, or did his armor or dodge save him?

>>40750475
Don't worry.

>>40750554
Sounds like the latter two.

>And then everything went to shit.


IT BEGINS IN EARNEST.

>>40750506
>And then everything went to shit.
Seems like every third or fourth post ends on these words.

F5... F5... F5...

>>40750597

When you're Greg Sargent's Suicide Squad, the only direction things can go is down, anon.

>>40750619

Oh, but that's entirely not true.

Remember, this is the mob from the Occurence Border. Things can go up, down, left, right, diagonal, sideways, and ploin!

And that's just one corridor traversal.

>>40750619
Yes, but sometimes they go down at slower rates than usual using gravchutes. Other times, they go down at faster rates than usual...using gravechutes.

>>40750554

quick first aid application from Doc saved the leg, he's limping bad though

>>40750530

It's sort of by comitee, but Doc is primarily playing her.

>>40750530
Aimy was probably a new PC, if I had to guess.

File: seal of heresy.png (69 KB, 350x350)

69 KB PNG

>>40750636
I want my sides back your mirthstealer

>>40750636

I think things often just go strait to Plaid.

>>40750492
Find better groups, man. Shas runs some fucking tight games; there'll be one more after his current Deathwatch game before he retires from GMing for TG.
Live the dream.

>>40750677

Nah.
See, when things are going in actual directions, you're having a normal day aboard the Occurrence Border.

When they're going SHAPES and/or fruit, like Ploin, or Bananas, or Pear, then you're having one of these really, really bad days.

When they go COLORS, though, then you're having the FULL Occurence Border experience.
Things haven't gone to plaid yet. The Cogtain Crater hasn't possessed the Zoanthrope... yet.

>>40750698
Any suggestions on finding good 40k RPG groups? I think most people here would be all ears. I'd be down for a skype one.

File: fuck that gimme that AP bonus.jpg (450 KB, 1600x1200)

450 KB JPG

>>40750506

Looking back, it's not that hard to spot the exact moment when the shitting of the everything occurred. Actually it wasn't that hard to spot at the time either, within twenty seconds of it happening we knew what had gone wrong and why, but it took a bit longer for all the horrible results of that one screwup to manifest.

Anyway, what started that whole horrible shit-show was a simple communications failure at a rather hectic moment. The third wave of Tyranids was coming in, and we were busy shooting them and getting ready to blow our mines and fall back. Up on top of the hill, Sergeant Gravis had the Zoanthrope on the ropes and was ordering his Scout to get ready to tranq it. The Scout Marine had just returned from helping Sarge, and was perched on one of the pointy pillars on top of the hill. As the Scout got the tranq ready and lined up what must have been a rather tricky shot, he spotted something and commed us. His EXACT words were: "Interrogator, Incoming Tyranid Assault Flier, North Side."

Now let's do an experiment. First, go out and find fifty thousand Guardsmen. Actually, go out and get a hundred, it's not like Guardsmen hard to find. Hell, we're literally the largest organized fighting force in the galaxy. Which, come to think of it, means that the definition of a standard response to ANYTHING, is what WE do, not what a few bloody crazies stomping around in power armor and getting eaten by bugs…

ANYWAY, ask any of these Guardsmen what they'll do when someone warns them hostile air units are incoming. Nothing else, no details or orders, just Hostile Air Incoming. You know what they'll say? It'll be the same regardless of regiment, specialization, rank, or anything.

Every. Single. One of Them. Will tell you the same thing: THEY WILL GET THE HELL INTO COVER.

Apparently the Emperor's Scythe's Chapter of The Space Marines aren't on the same page as the rest of us though. Or at least that Scout Marine wasn't.

I am so glad I don't work tomorrow -- normally I would. I'll be up all night with this and then waiting for it to appear in html so I can reread it.

>>40750728
Oh god. You had to put that image in my head, didn't you?

Knowing the AGP's luck, that's just gonna end with the whole thing spontaneously manifesting a knarlocc arm and getting possessed by that Daemon again.

File: USE YOUR WORDS NEXT TIME.jpg (110 KB, 1024x768)

110 KB JPG

>>40750736

I mean if he'd just been a little more clear... If he'd added just a few more bloody words, like: "TAKE IT OUT" or "COVER ME", or even if he'd just shortened it to: "INCOMING ASSAULT" we would've understood…

But no, he told us there was a Flier Incoming, and stood there with his ass hanging out, wrongly believing that we'd shoot it down while he lined up his shot on the Zoanthrope.

Nubby was the first one to notice the impending disaster. Well actually he just saw the Scout standing there, and told Sarge that the "stupid bastid's gonna get 'is arse shot off." Sarge stared for a second, then peeked out of cover and saw what sort of flier was incoming. Everything started to click together, the incoming Tyranid wasn't some dedicated air biofom designed to strafe or bomb ground targets. It was biggest, meanest melee monstrosity in the swarm, or at least the biggest one that was was still capable of flight.

It was a Flyrant. A Winged Hive Tyrant. The Tyranid equivalent of a Lord General crossed with a Main Battle Tank and with some wings strapped on for good measure. It was big, pissed, and coming right at the only member of our team that was standing out in the open.

Unfortunately Sarge was just a little too late. By the time he'd started shouting his warning, nearly five tonnes of flying Tyranid hit the Scout Marine in the back.

You how in cartoons a bus or train hits someone and they'll just sort of vanish? It was exactly like that, right down to how the poor bastard's sniper rifle was left pinwheeling in the air for a second.

In the aftermath three things became apparent: the Scout had not gotten his shot off, the psychically exhausted Zoanthrope was doing a runner, and Gravis had bigger problems than chasing it. The Space Marine told us that the Zoanthrope was fleeing towards Sarge, asked us to catch it, and then started shouting about some place called Sotha. A second later the Tyrant let out scream that shook the entire hilltop.

File: HANDLE IT.jpg (328 KB, 702x570)

328 KB JPG

>>40750754

The situation was bad, but it was also, thank the Emperor, relatively simple. We had a perimeter to maintain, a Hive Tyrant to survive, and a Zoanthrope to catch. Sarge started bellowing out orders and the rest of us scrambled to follow them.

Since we still had all of our mines in place, the perimeter was actually the least pressing issue. Sarge's first order was to fall back towards the top of the hill, and let the explosives hold off the smaller Tyranids for a while. Sarge then told us he was going after the Zoanthrope, and sent Nubby to get the Scout's tranq-loaded sniper rifle.

For the rest of us, Sarge's final orders were a little more… freeform. Tink was to get his drone on the Hive Tyrant, and the rest of us were told to "HANDLE IT." Seriously, that was his entire master plan.

>By the Emperor! There's a bloody HIVE TYRANT inside our perimeter, it's killed one Space Marine and, as soon as it finishes off the other, it'll kill us all. What should we do sir?

>"HANDLE IT"

He never managed to live that one down.

The ridiculousness of that order aside, it's not like we actually needed one. Each of us knew that the only way we'd live through this was if the Tyrant was dead, forced to retreat, or kept distracted long enough for us to call and board the shuttle. All three of these possible solutions could be accomplished in the same way: by shooting the big bug and running away if it chased us. Some variations and improv could be thrown in as things progressed, but Shoot and Run was really the core strategy. Even the Space Marine was doing it, though it was more Stab and Run in his case.

> Every. Single. One of Them. Will tell you the same thing: THEY WILL GET THE HELL INTO COVER.

Except the AAA guys. They'll grab for Flakk missiles or jump into their Hydrae and open fire.

Or they should, anyway...

File: smaug desolation.jpg (34 KB, 534x401)

34 KB JPG

>>40750736
MOFUKKEN FLYRANTS!!!!!!!!
LET THE DESOLATION COMMENCE

File: 1430723800436.png (513 KB, 600x782)

513 KB PNG

>>40750728
AHAHAHA. Dear Emperor, don't say such things.
Shoggy, GM hasn't taken to reading these threads, right? He just takes the screencapped and fucks off to Reddit?
I'm sure a god among men like him doesn't need /tg/'s ideas, but just the thought of the Contain assimilating a Zoanthrope inspires a profound sense of NOPE.
>>40750733
I'm afraid I've just lucked into Shas'o R'myr's games... twice, now. If anyone's up for it, though, >>40750341 sounds fun.

File: handle it.png (176 KB, 286x395)

176 KB PNG

>>40750774
>"HANDLE IT"

>>40750774

One of you guys needs to start slinging a jurgen special along.

>>40750754
>Flyrant used Psychic Scream
>The Horde is now agitated
>GG no RE

>>40750807
>I'm afraid I've just lucked into Shas'o R'myr's games... twice, now. If anyone's up for it, though, >>40750341 sounds fun.

I don't even *play* any 40K RPGs, and I'd learn for that!

File: Reaction - Manly Tears Mo(...).jpg (158 KB, 455x610)

158 KB JPG

>>40749559

>>40750838
I would pay good money to watch the AGP meet Cain and Jurgen. Watching Jurgen and Nubby interact would be worth the price of admission alone.

>>40750754

Some times I wonder if the space marines forgot they have a bunch of weird guardsman here, not extra marines.

No matter how hard they hit, a half dozen of them is kinda light duty for that.

>>40747049
I check erry day for this shit. caught every single one thus far

>>40750866

"Gentlemen, you're being attached to a HERO OF THE IMPERIUM on special tasking under Inquisitor Vail. Try not to anger him, hes a Commissar. And you know how commissars are like."

Cue massive pants shitting before they actually meet him.

File: doin good there buddy.jpg (726 KB, 2560x1600)

726 KB JPG

>>40750774

The first of us to actually see the Hive Tyrant up close were Aimy and Twitch. As they ran up towards the hilltop, Sergeant Gravis started coming down in these big graceful leaps made possible by his Grav-Chute. Valiant Heroes of the Imperium that both of them were, they immediately scrambled to find hiding places. As the massive Tyranid charged down after Gravis, both of them held their fire, not to mention their breaths, and observed what they could.

The Flyrant was, of course, a winged bipedal bug that stood six meters tall and was made of distilled murder and hate, but it also had a few important distinguishing points. It had four arms, well three-ish after Gravis had gotten its attention. The top one-and-a-half ended in the usual Tyranid talons, the bottom pair held a massive bonesword and one of those freaky sentient whip things. Each of those weapons was capable of messily killing any poor guardsman that got in close, but none of them had real range. That was a very good thing for us, not so much for Gravis though.

Speaking of Sergeant Gravis, he was coming down the hill fast, but the Flyrant was gaining and he didn't have much room left to run before he hit Twitch and Aimy's minefield. Right as it looked like he was going to try jumping over it and then wading through the incoming wave of Nids, he suddenly reversed direction.

All three of the Flyrant's attacks missed the Space Marine as, with more speed and agility than anyone wearing the equivalent of a light-tank should have, he dodged between the beast's legs. It was impressive as hell, especially the part where he got in a whack with his Power Sword on his way through. Both Aimy and Twitch watched appreciatively; until they realized the Flyrant wasn't going to be able to stop.

The four-point-nine tonne Tyranid flailed it's wings in a mad attempt to get airborne, completely failed to do so, and plowed through over a dozen AP mines. Twitch and Aimy barely made it into new cover in time.

>>40750861
I think an All Cogboy Party would even be balanced, since Cogboys can end up doing so many different things with their various tentacles.

That sounded less dirty in my head.

File: 2 cmon man.jpg (31 KB, 480x360)

31 KB JPG

>>40750906

Of course it takes more than a few AP mines to kill a Hive Tyrant. Aside from shredding its wings, all they really seemed to do was piss it off. The Tyrant let out another of its piercing shrieks as it reversed direction, and started pelting back up the hill after Gravis. Twitch and Aimy watched it go, then realized they had a bit of a problem, namely that there was no longer much of a minefield between them and the wave of smaller Tyranids.

The debate over what to do consisted of Aimy and Twitch pointing in opposite directions, yelling "HANDLE IT" at eachother, then splitting up. Twitch ran around dropping the last of his mines and spraying fire at the incoming Gaunts. Aimy sprinted up the hill after Gravis and the Flyrant, hip-firing her pulse rifle at the massive target until it crested the hill and she lost line of sight.

When Aimy reached the top of the hill, she found Sergeant Gravis carefully circling around the enraged Flyrant while Doc and Tink shot it. Like the other two Guardsmen, she sighted on the Tau marker-thingy Spot was projecting on the Tyranid and poured out as much fire as she could. It was beginning to look like the three of them would be able to wear the creature down, then Gravis botched one of his dodges.

The Space Marine had to choose between trying to block the Flyrant's bonesword or dying a horrible death, and reluctantly chose the former. For the second time that day, he flew through the air with all the grace and aerodynamics of a thrown brick.

Sergeant Gravis ricocheted off one of the stone spires encircling the hilltop, briefly tumbled upwards, then crashed into the dirt directly behind Doc and Tink. He was a tough bastard though: within a second of his landing started moving again. Both the Space Marine and his armor groaned as he struggled to get back on his feet.

The Flyrant let out yet another roar, sighted on the recovering Space Marine, and charged.

>>40750861
Alright, I'll throw SOMETHING together. Details to follow.

Fair warning, the last few games I tried running went to shit fairly quickly.

>Wedge, I lost my Gunner. HANDLE IT!
>Dresden, the Red Court's about to kill our Daughter. HANDLE IT!
>RAMIREZ! Enemy AC130! HANDLE IT!

>>40750931
I'm currently running a game, planning another, and playing in a third and I'll play this shit if there's an open slot. Just tell me when, where, and how

>>40750923
> The All Cogboy Party and Cleaning Up after Nubby's Parade.
> The All Cogboy Party and The Wrath of the Cogtain.
> The All Cogboy Party and Sarge's Bootcamp

FUND IT.

>>40750906
>Speaking of Sergeant Gravis, he was coming down the hill fast, but the Flyrant was gaining and he didn't have much room left to run before he hit Twitch and Aimy's minefield. Right as it looked like he was going to try jumping over it and then wading through the incoming wave of Nids, he suddenly reversed direction.

>All three of the Flyrant's attacks missed the Space Marine as, with more speed and agility than anyone wearing the equivalent of a light-tank should have, he dodged between the beast's legs. It was impressive as hell, especially the part where he got in a whack with his Power Sword on his way through. Both Aimy and Twitch watched appreciatively; until they realized the Flyrant wasn't going to be able to stop.

That Space Marine is fucking with the Flyrant BY PLAYING DARK SOULS AGAINST IT. FUCK.

> I would pay good money to watch the AGP meet Cain and Jurgen. Watching Jurgen and Nubby interact would be worth the price of admission alone

Jurgen (and I wouldn't be surprised about Nobby Nobbs either) is based on Private McAuslan, the dirtiest, thickest man in the Gordon Highlanders circa 1947, as depicted by the late, great GM Fraser. (Same guy who invented Flashman, the inspiration for Cain.)

> Some times I wonder if the space marines forgot they have a bunch of weird guardsman here, not extra marines.

Marines always forget that. It was a major problem during the Heresy.

File: nope.jpg (81 KB, 578x319)

81 KB JPG

>>40750927

Now, in your normal Commissariat Approved Uplifting Story of Heroism, this is where the two Stalwart Guardsmen would've stood their ground and laid down their lives to buy the wounded Space Marine time to recover. Then, right after the Guardsmen had finished valiantly sacrificing themselves, he would've magically gotten better and killed the vile Xenos. Oh, and then all the Orks and Tyranids on the planet would've died, and it the whole place would've turned into a garden world that paid all it's tithes on time, and there'd be statues of the heroic dead Guardsmen everywhere…

The warp take those stories, and whoever keeps writing them, and the whole Commissariat for that matter. Ever notice how it's always some Guardsman and never the Commissar who dies horribly in the Emperor's name? Anyway, Doc and Tink took one look at the charging Flyrant, and ran for it.

Okay, I realize that sounds bad, but it's not like they ran down the hill and left Gravis to die. They kept firing and ran perpendicularly along the top of the hill in, and I quote the official report here, "An attempt to draw the Hive Tyrant's attention away from its target." Anyway, it's not like they would've accomplished anything by standing there, and there was no way either of them could've carried a fully armored Space Marine to safety. My point is that what happened next was NOT Doc's, Tink's, or anyone else's fault, and I'll have you know that the tribunal of senior Ordos Xenos Inquisitors who reviewed Spot's footage agreed with that assessment. Well, two thirds of the Tribunal anyway.

So while three of us poured a hell of a lot of plasma into the Flyrant, it closed to melee range with Sergeant Gravis. He parried the beast's whip-thing, sidestepped a strike from its single remaining talon, then did that trick where he dodged through its legs again. Whereupon the Flyrant turned, brought its bonesword around at mid-chest-level, and cut Sergeant Gravis in half.

>>40750991
Tell us about this game you're planning? Unless its a real world one...

>>40750943
Ironically, if the Space Marine Scout Sniper had used the words "HANDLE IT" to indicate he wanted the incoming flyer shot down, as opposed to sounding as if he were giving an advisement to take cover, he might still be alive.

This shit is better then Diamonds!

>>40751044
..tri..tribunal?

Oh man. This promises to be an even bigger clusterfuck.

>>40751044
>Whereupon the Flyrant turned, brought its bonesword around at mid-chest-level, and cut Sergeant Gravis in half.
Bag the head! Bag the head! Get him into a stasis field and we can get him an augmetic everything else!

>>40751087
Straight to BOHICA

>>40751111
DREADNOUGHT TIME!

>>40751059
Damn Right!
>Guardsmen! Incoming Flyrant! HANDLE IT!

>>40751044
>Okay, I realize that sounds bad, but it's not like they ran down the hill and left Gravis to die. They kept firing and ran perpendicularly along the top of the hill in, and I quote the official report here, "An attempt to draw the Hive Tyrant's attention away from its target." Anyway, it's not like they would've accomplished anything by standing there, and there was no way either of them could've carried a fully armored Space Marine to safety. My point is that what happened next was NOT Doc's, Tink's, or anyone else's fault, and I'll have you know that the tribunal of senior Ordos Xenos Inquisitors who reviewed Spot's footage agreed with that assessment. Well, two thirds of the Tribunal anyway

Shoggy confirmed for Playing as Sarge.
calling it now.

>>40751111
Quads confirmed for robo-Gravis

>>40751111
yea but the transit time to the planet was on the order of at least an hour. No way the head will last that long.

>>40751135
He's already said who he is playing as.

>>40751111
So...What? Cram him in next to the Psyker-Nid?

>>40751126
Nah. Shoggy plays either Twitch or Nubby. I haven't been able to work out exactly which just yet.

Lemme guess -- the top half of him will still be alive and shooting the Flyrant.

>>40751158
Yes, don't worry though. The stasis field can HANDLE IT.

>>40751025
Unless I hear something involving spin-to-win, it ain't Dark Souls.

>>40751111
Bag the torso and keep him from bleeding out.

>>40751150
i been following this series since the original post and he always said he wouldnt reveal who he plays as

if he did, then i must have missed the post

>>40751184
no, he peels off his skinsuit and reveals he was an ork all along. Twitch explodes.

>>40751044
>Whereupon the Flyrant turned, brought its bonesword around at mid-chest-level, and cut Sergeant Gravis in half.

>Space Marine in two halves

"Hey Doc... HANDLE IT."

He's said which, on other discussion boards.

>>40751126
They *DO* traditionally bring rocket launchers along, and big lumbering flying things at low altitudes and velocities are the natural prey of the Emperor's Tube-launched, Optically-tracked, Wire-guided (TOW) missiles.

Speaking of which, why haven't they bust out the rocket launchers and given the Flyrant some of the Emperor's High-Explosive Anti-Tank (HEAT) Justice?

Or did the Spess Mehrines tell them to leave the launchers at home?

File: a bit more dangerous though.jpg (219 KB, 800x600)

219 KB JPG

>>40751044

Twitch finished laying his replacement minefield and arrived on the hilltop right then, as did Sarge and Nubby, who were lugging the tranqed Zoanthrope between them. Their part of what could be generously called "the Plan" hadn't involved anything as terrifying as the Flyrant, but it hadn't been a cakewalk either.

Sarge had managed to sight the fleeing Zoanthrope as it came down the hill towards him. It turned out that even when too exhausted to keep itself hovering, the psyker bugs are capable of wriggling along the ground at a surprisingly high speed. While Nubby hunted down the Scout's dropped rifle and its tranq round, Sarge chased the Zoanthrope back and forth between the rocks, dodging the occasional weak lighting bolt and stray fleshborer round as he did so. Eventually he corned the beastie between two spires right as Nubby arrived with the comically oversized Astartes Pattern Sniper Rifle.

Since it quickly became apparent that Nubby was completely incapable of aiming the oversized rifle, and the Zoanthrope was still squirming around a lot, Sarge decided to take the shot himself. The second he was distracted the bug tried to escape again, and Sarge wound up tackling the thing and trying to pin it to the ground. It was like wrestling a cross between a greased pig, a giant snake, and an uninsulated power conduit.

In the end he collected a few scratches, a nasty bite wound, and a whole lot of electrical burns before Nubby just dragged the rifle over and jammed it into the Zoanthrope's under-belly. Then they hauled the surprisingly long and heavy xenos up to the hilltop, pausing to chuck a few grenades at the incoming wave of Nid reinforcements on the way, and got there just in time to see Gravis' bisection.

There was a brief silence, which was punctuated by two meaty thuds and Nubby's nasal voice.

>'Oly shit... fink ees gonna be okay?

Then the Flyrant roared again and all six of us open fire.

>>40751213
But in spoilers, so don't say here.

>>40751143
It's a Space Marine head. He'll keep. Especially if you keep the bit with the hearts attached to it when you bag the head.

>>40751158
Damn straight!
> Hospitaller-Chan
>> We have a Space Marine Head that needs to go into stasis. HANDLE IT!

File: sounds like a plan.png (190 KB, 500x281)

190 KB PNG

>>40751220

Spot was projecting its Tau laser-thingy on the middle of the Flyrant's torso, and we all just sighted our weapons on it and held the triggers down. Looking back it's hard to say whether it was sheer weight of fire, or if the big bastard was just running out energy, but it's charge towards us was much slower than its earlier ones had been.

Every single one of us got an entire magazine's worth of shots out before the flyrant was a third of the way to Sarge and Nubby. It never made it to two thirds, there was a sort of squelchy pop as it's torso armor gave way, and the beast stumbled. It sort of huddled there, trying to protect its wounded chest, and sending out a screech that was echoed by the smaller Tyranids climbing the hill. From the sound of it, they were finally getting passed our minefields, and would be arriving in seconds.

None of us went to hold off the incoming reinforcements though. The Flyrant was the very definition of "The big one", and we were going to shoot it first. Spot redirected it's markerlight to the xenos' head.

Not that we actually needed the fancy tau flashlight though: even if the Flyrant's head was a relatively small target, it was a stationary one now. Every shot we fired hit, and within seconds our massed plasma fire either punched through the Tyranid's head amour, or cooked the thing's brains to boiling point. It's head exploded like a particularly disgusting grenade, and a psychic pressure that none of us had even noticed was released. All around the hilltop the incoming Tyranids broke and fled as quickly as they could, and the Zoanthrope twitched a little where Sarge and Nubby had dropped it.

Let me tell you, we'd escaped near certain death before, but the relief we all felt on that barren hilltop was greatest in our lives. Every one of us just stood there and basked in the sheer joy of still being alive.

Then Tink spoiled it by asking if Gravis had called the shuttle before he died.

>>40751217
They're chronically malsupplied.
But they have Pulse weaponry; best general-purpose guns there are.
Why are you namefagging?

> But in spoilers, so don't say here.

I won't. (How do you reply to a specific post like that, anyway?)

>>40751251
oh shit

>>40751266
Click the post number.

>>40751266

Lurk moar.

(click on the post number.)

>>40751251
well tink... HANDLE IT

>>40751220
>'Oly shit... fink ees gonna be okay?
He's a Space Marine. Of course he can HANDLE IT!

>>40751266
Please lurk more
Or click on the post numbers

> They're chronically malsupplied.

What an awesome word. I must remember it.

"HANDLE IT" is going straight into Sarge's profile on TVTropes, under "NeverLiveItDown"

>>40751303
>Name fagging.
>TVTropes.
You disgust me.

>>40751303

>namefagging

>tvtropes

newfag pls go

>>40751323
Don't forget, not knowing how to reply

>>40751266
You should probably read the FAQ too.
https://www.4chan.org/faq

Welcome to /tg/.

>>40751303
Ahhh, another troper. That character page needs beefing up.

>>40751323
>>40751323
HANDLE IT ANON! Then Shut up and enjoy the Shoggy.

>>40751261
>They're chronically malsupplied.
They've never had any shortage whatsoever of rocket launchers previous to this, except in cases when they've already fired them all.

>Why are you namefagging?
What are you talking about? I'm as Anonymous as you are.

>>40751266
See where it has a name and post timestamps, and beyond that, "No.########"
Click the ########.

>>40751323
>>40751339
Relax, gents. Rage not against the newfag, but instead teach it.
I'm a little surprised AGP has a TVTropes article though.
>>40751348
I'll work on it.

>>40751303
I just made it up, but a rudimentary grasp of Latin helps do that.
You should really read the FAQ, but using a name is considered rude around here unless you're contributing.

File: bad nubby drop it.png (1.24 MB, 613x811)

1.24 MB PNG

>>40751251

Tink's question was followed by the sound of a few thousand Orks Waaagh-ing, and it occurred to us that we'd probably just killed the creature that'd been holding the Tyranid defense of these hills together. I doubt anyone in the history of the Imperium has ever gone from ecstatic relief to blind panic as quickly as we did.

Sarge started wildly flipping through comm channels, Twitch ran around deploying the last of his explosives, Aimy screamed at Tink for not remembering sooner, and Tink called Aimy a skunk-haired super-bitch. The odd men out were Doc, who had gone right past panic to depression, and Nubby, who defaulted to some very basic instincts when overwhelmed. While everyone else was busy screaming, shouting, mining, and crying, Nubby went to get himself a shiny, not-quite-new Power Sword.

The cretinous little vulture found the Sword still in Gravis' hand, which didn't deter him even slightly. He firmly planted a boot on the Marine's arm and started prying at the power-armored fist. As Nubby levered off the smallest of the Marine's fingers, two practically reflexive actions occurred. First Gravis shook Nubby's grip off and tightened his fingers on his Power Sword. Second, Nubby automatically responded by drawing his combat knife and preparing to give the Emperor's Peace, thereby settling any silly little ownership disputes.

It was immensely lucky for all of us that Gravis' ceramite helmet was still sealed, since it made trying to slit his throat long and noisy process. Doc noticed Nubby going at the Space Marine's armored neck like an incompetent lumberjack, realized what it implied, and bodychecked Nubby off the not-quite-dead Sergeant Gravis. Our brilliant medic then stood there, with his medkit open, panicking and trying to figure out how to treat the mother of all chest wounds.

>>40750754
>You how in cartoons

>>40747009
ITS BACK ITS BACK ITS BACK

AND I'M NOT LATE

>>40751403

....GOD DAMMIT NUBBY

i hope you lot remembered to delete that footage.

>>40751397
http://www.bash.org/?128114

>>40751377
Rocket launchers are heavy anon, not the sort of thing you want to bring when trusting your life to a questionably-effective grav-chute.

>>40751420
don't be silly, nubby was just trying to help the marine get his armor off. you know, so he could breathe better.

>>40751377
Derp. Sorry, thought you were the newfag. In my defense, it's late, I'm on mobile, and I'm not quite sober.

Sure, they've had rockets before, but they never seem to have shit like that when they really need it anymore. The Occurrence Border isn't the only thing in need of a tune-up.

>>40751403
sweet jesus
I think Nubby might be getting a bolt to the skull for double heresy

>>40751403
Treat? Don't you mean Handle. :P

Just realized I was Namefag'ing, because the threat remembers youer name. My apologies to ALL of /tg :(

>>40751047
It's a game using the WHFRP2e rules as a chassis. Though I'm refluffing most, if not all of magic mechanics and adding in some fluffy houserule options for the setting I'm making around it. In short, I plan on having the PCs begin as nobodies who are forced into the limelight through (un)fortunate circumstances. Really most of my time thus far has been taken up making a setting to house it all in and to provide a lightly directed sandbox game. The point of the game is for the PCs to begin with little to nothing and make something of themselves in a world filled with war, backstabbing, corruption, and worse. The challenges will be tweaked to what the players want, so there's the possibility for war, intrigue, and conquest or simply murderhoboing.

It's very early planning at the moment, but the concepts have been ground out.

>>40751434
Maxim 11, Anon.
> Everything is Air-droppable at least once.

File: YOINK.jpg (114 KB, 1600x1067)

114 KB JPG

>>40751403

The commotion caught Sarge's attention in turn, and he abandoned his fruitless attempts to contact the shuttle by randomly trying comm channels. Sarge's first question wasn't if Doc was sure Gravis was still alive, or how that was even possible, it was whether the Space Marine was capable of calling for evac. Doc gibbered, and pointed out that Gravis' lungs had been cut in half and he could actually see INSIDE them. Sarge took that as a no, but noticed Nubby's knife stuck between Gravis' helmet and gorget. Without waiting for a medical opinion, he seized the knife and twisted it with all his beefy-noncom strength.

Later it was explained to Sarge, but not Nubby, that the latches on Mark VII Power Armor helmets don't actually lock, and he could've just flipped them open. At the time though, Sarge was too busy to waste time thinking, and just tore apart several million thrones worth of data-relays and void-seals. When the helmet finally came off, with a tear and a snap rather than a little pop, Sarge ran over to where Aimy was beating seven kinds of shit out of Tink. He ended their friendly little argument over who "the real bitch" was by grabbing the back of Aimy's Ork-stained armor, and unceremoniously chucking her in Twitch's direction. Sarge then dragged Tink to his feet, thrust Gravis' helmet into the techie's hands, and screamed at him to make the vox work.

Tink stared at the helmet for a second, realized he had absolutely no idea how it worked, and wisely decided to try the obvious thing first. Which is to say, he put the helmet on his head and hesitantly asked if the thing was on. He was nearly deafened by the shuttle pilot's screaming request to know what the hell was going on and what had happened to Sergeant Gravis. Tink decided that Sarge could answer that question, handed the helmet over with a smug little line about being able to fix anything, and went to see if Doc had anything for a broken nose.

He immediately regretted that decision.

>>40751472
Why use emotes?
Why have a name?
Honest questions.

>>40751407
FUCK

>>40751403
Shoggy, are you planning on posting the whole story tonight, or just part of it?
because it's not like i need sleep tonight

>>40751397
Did you know that ZeonQuest has one as well?

Say what you will, that quest is fun to read.

>>40751491

Because they are obviously a bit new and haven't lurked enough to know all the unspoken rules that filter around the place. And I can understand emotes for some posts. Yes you can use a reaction image, but some folks are posting from mobiles, or just don't want to chew up the image limit.

>Why are you namefagging?
They were talking to me -- just looked up the term.

> You should really read the FAQ, but using a name is considered rude around here unless you're contributing.

I did, but I don't remember the term "namefag" in there, so I missed something. Sorry.

>>40749684
What does an Interrogator get paid anyways?

>>40751481
The hell is that in the lens reflection of the helmet?

>>40751549
A bepostered wall, I reckon.

>>40751540
dont be sorry; dont do it again

>>40751540
>I did, but I don't remember the term "namefag" in there, so I missed something. Sorry.

It isn't in there. It's part of the misanthropic culture of 4chan.

> I doubt anyone in the history of the Imperium has ever gone from ecstatic relief to blind panic as quickly as we did.

"Horus is dead! Huzzah!"
"Wait, the Emperor is dead too? Crap!"

>>40751510
The only active quests I've followed are ex-Guardsman, Khornette, and Infinite Stratos. I doubt this AGP chapter will fit in a single thread anyway, so we can waste posts on off-topic; what is ZeonQuest?

>>40751540
It's fine; you were ignorant, not malicious or stupid. Ignorance is curable.

>>40751540

We're all a bunch a fools, aint we anon? But at least we're not on an ork world assaulted by tyranids! Or is it vice-versa? I don't think Shoggy's DM specified.

>>40751577
They probably didn't get the news that Big Daddy Emps kicked as soon as they got the news Horus had been slain.

Someone post Tyrone for all the newfags

>>40751564
Ah, it looks like the guy's shirt actually. I thought it was a clever photoshop or something for a minute there, felt kinda inspired.

>>40751587
I believe he said that the orks are coming from the planets and the nids are coming from the hive ships so it should be what you said.

>>40751575
*shrug*

>>40751638
Replace tripcode with name
http://youtu.be/YgHNtzxO0y8

>>40750861
>>40750923
>>40750991
>>40751005
I should have something ready for a pilot episode within a few weeks. How do y'all want the call to Players posted? Contact information can be exchanged after storytime.

You know, the AGP+Tau should consider building a box that produces Tau weapons and leaving it on a certain ork-infested world under reclamation. Then when people get suspicious they can investigate and declare in favor of the guard.

I say consider, as that's WAAAAY above their paygrade.

File: Gundam - ZeonQuest %22El (...).jpg (142 KB, 540x810)

142 KB JPG

>>40751585
Ohhh boy. The Quest covered the events of Mobile Suit Gundam's One Year War from the Zeon point of view, starting with the invasion: Corporal David Lister. It went wildly and gloriously off rails from there on out.

File: I WAS NOT TRAINED FOR THI(...).jpg (269 KB, 565x756)

269 KB JPG

>>40751481

So Sarge was wearing the helmet and explaining things to the Shuttle pilot, Twitch was being Twitch, and since it looked like we actually wouldn't all be left stranded in the middle of an army of Orks, both Nubby and Aimy decided it was time to take a breather. They sat on the tranqued Zoanthrope, shared a pack of Lho sticks, and enjoyed the sight of Doc freaking the hell out and shaking Tink like a terrier with a rat.

>OH GOD WHAT DO I DO?

I dunno, fix him or something, STOP SHAKING ME

>HOW TINK? How do you fix BEING CUT IN HALF? He shouldn't even be alive, I don't know what's going on here, I don't know how Space Marines work! What if touching him makes it stop working? WHAT DO I DO?

Umm umm umm…. do that Space Marine thing!

>WHAT THING?

Harvest his geneseed!

>His what now?

His geneseed! It's like this seed thing that Space Marines have, if you pull it out before a Marine dies you can plant it in a servitor and he grows back from it.

>Really?

Yeah, they had this whole thing in the last season where Brother-Captain Markus the Cooperator fell in battle, and the fire-warrior rescue team had to-

>Wait, you mean in your Tau vids? You're basing this off heretical cartoons?

THEY'RE NOT CARTOONS,THEY'RE NOT HERETICAL, AND DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING BETTER?

>Shit shit shit shit shit… okay what's this "geneseed" look like and where does he keep it?

Ummm they had to censor the part where they cut it out, but I think it was like a second heart thing, and it was all green and stuff.

>Heart thing, so like in his chest?

Yea, right in the middle.

>Okay, in the chest… Upper chest or lower chest?

Umm

>UPPER CHEST OR LOWER CHEST? If I'm going to be digging around inside him looking for something green, I at least need to know which end to dig around in!

I don't know, why doncha go check on the Scout?

File: ouch.jpg (35 KB, 800x600)

35 KB JPG

>>40751693

The Scout Marine was pinned to the hilltop's ground a few dozen meters away from where he'd been perching when the Flyrant hit him. I'm using "pinned" quite literally here, he was face down with a Tyranid talon the size of a beefy telephone pole through his back. The talon ended in a very neat cut that matched the stump the Flyrant had, which probably explained how Gravis had gotten its attention.

Unlike Gravis, there wasn't much confusion over whether the Scout was dead: he'd started to go runny. It's not like all of him was melting, just a sort of expanding area around where he'd been speared. Said area included both the upper and lower chest though. In the name of medical science, Doc poked at the mushy corpse with a probe, then jumped backwards with a girly shout when it started to hiss and melt too.

>Emperor... I swear he wasn't doing that earlier. Is this like a Space Marine thing? Do they melt when they die?

Ewww, don't think so, would make it hard to re-use the armor. Bethcha it's a Nid thing, does yer Big Book-o-Pseudoscientific Medical Bullshit have a section on Tyrant bioweapons?

>Umm, umm, umm, Tyranid, tyrant, umm, umm, bonesword, scything talon, TOXIN SACS!

Huh, neat, what's it say?

>If in fully stocked field hospital… laboratorium... quarantine… here! Battlefield instructions! "Smear area with counterseptic, administer oral De-Tox, scan and apply indicated Toxin Wands, give Plasma, pray to the Emperor." I CAN DO ALL OF THOSE!

Wait, like plasma from a gun or a bag? And what about the geneseed though?

>Screw your geneseed, if we can keep him from melting until the shuttle arrives we can ask the pilot. Now take these and go to his bottom half

These are pills Doc, how do I give a pair of legs pills?

>HOW DO YOU THINK?

Oh god, I am NOT qualified for this…

>Well neither am I, now DO IT.

>>40751668
In theory, I would use trips, but don't feel like bothering.

If I ever ran a game here, then yeah. Otherwise, meh.

>>40751708
Holy fuck my sides

>>40750861 and >>40751005 are both me.

I dunno... Can you make a thread for it on some RPG forum, like Sufficient Velocity, and post a link there? Or maybe you're gonna throw out your Skype name?

So, what books do we need to lawfully purchase and read?

File: 1430976985269.png (2.37 MB, 3767x2580)

2.37 MB PNG

>>40751708

>These are pills Doc, how do I give a pair of legs pills?

>HOW DO YOU THINK?

Oh merciful Emperor, save us from these medics.