Field Kit Inspection: Suicide Run Edition

What conscripts? We don't use conscripts. After all, we were reinforced during our stay on Neveda Prime. Mostly men from the 277th Bell-Rogers reserve regiment, and a couple from a dozen plus nearly destoryed regiments, from across the Imperium.

Sir yes sir!
>a trooper waits till the captain leaves
>he files of the identification numbers on the battle bus
>all the troopers begin outfitting the bus with halftrack paint, and armor

>He would take a minute to vox the ship's Captain. Before a moment later, nodding his head.

Go ahead, Magos.

>1d100, 80+ needed for success

Brutus find van kleez... van kleez in trouble... Brutus kill bad... Brutus find big bad... Brutus beat up big bad.... big bad has friends
Brutus beat up friends.... they are bad... Brutus force... them into... the regim...ent.

Rolled 20, 11, 14, 5, 12, 16 = 78 (6d20)

>The Arbitrator would walk around the ship, his shotgun slung and his bolt pistol holstered
Lemme try.
>I'd attempt to decipher the message

Rolled 68 (1d100)

Oops

>the corporal follows the tech priest without a word, the hulking figure as quiet as a cat...... the effect is quite at odds with his stature

>Matthias would let out a sigh.
>So that's why those idiots had tried boarding the ship. The Commissar had thought they were heretics, and had, had them executed by firing squad.
>Matthias would shrug at this point.

>The man coughs weakly, holding a rosary with a small wooden Aquila on it to his forehead

Rolled 83 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

Okay.
>she sits down and plugs into the ship

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>begin firing upon the forklift heresy

>It takes some time to decipher the message, even for one of her skill. But when she does, most of it seems to be incoherent, static filled, babbling in binary.
>What little can be understood, mentions three little rather important letters.
>STC discovered.

Well, Magos? What does it say?

Rolled 7, 5, 2 = 14 (3d20)

*upon firing at the forklift, the priorly constructed fortress would attack the battlebus*
*the forklift would of course take minor damage from the enemy weapons before hastily constructing a fortress*

>grunting, he steps back and closes the door so all non-combat units can not enter, and all in there must stay in.

>he returns to being the magos shadow

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>I'd fire a pot shot from my bolt pistol into the engine of the forklift
>I am doing this while behind cover

Rolled 62 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

*roll for fortress*

Hmm...come all come all and take your bets on who'll be victorius!
Will it be the battlebus crewed by the charlie squad?
Or will it be the forklift crewed by the strong and powerful Brutus?
Bets are two to one in both favours

>The Commissar would walk towards the "battle bus", and would step inside.
>A moment afterwards, the sound of a bolt pistol being fired, would echo throughout the hanger.
>The Commissar has executed one of Charlie squad's men, on the charges of being a group of team killing fucktards, and wasteful use of ammunition.
>List your squad mates in numerical order, and roll a d12 to see who dies.

Rolled 15, 20, 10 = 45 (3d20)

*brutus would since as the forklift took a bolt shell to the back, but the forklift was quickly fully covered by the fortress*
*roll for fort attacks on the arbitrator*

Rolled 69 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

It says that they have a gift for... my forge... strange... the gift is top secret but of top priority so i advise we take the best weapons we can because the static concerns me. I'll go through it more to see if i can get any details.

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>opning the door, the corporal leaps int ocover and makes his way closer to the fort

>when he is close enough he begins to climb up

>After exiting the 'battle bus'. The Commissar would make his way back to the Magos, and would nod his head. Not seeing any reason for her to lie.
>Before he could speak up however, he would tap his vox bead, and would go quirt. For a moment.

...understood, Captain.

>After a moment, the ship would transition out of the Warp, and back into reality.

Rolled 5 (1d12)

SGT venswick
Trooper Thel
Trooper Veskon
Kell
Kesh
Zweil
Markon
Denon
Skreton
Smalles
Coop

>Kesh's brains would know better splattered all over Thel, and Denon's faces and clothes.

Rolled 12 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

after 20 seconds and a few bullits to his leg he lands into the fort of brutis his chain blade revving

GGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

>his warcry echos the small fort as he trys to swipe at brutis

*instead of Brutus, he would find casino slave tied to a chair. His attack would seriously wound the man as he cried out in pain*

>she begins getting her weapons and armor on as she locks on her powerfist, activating it for a test
Perfect~

>Matthias can only sigh, at the stupidity going on inside the hanger.
>Perhaps venting the hanger into the void would calm things down.
>But, until he had orders to do so, he would simply ignore it. Let those idiots kill themselves off.

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>kicking the man from his blade, probably worsetening his condition, he looks around for the man who shot at his comrades

AAAAAAAATRRRRRRRRRR

[rolling to find]

*casino slave would cry out*
I hate you and Brutus is in another fortress!

>sgt Venswick has his men dispose of trooper kesh, and collect his belongings.
>He heads over to a munitorum officer to request a replacement.

>Picks up a weird gun, which seeps with weird, blue, ghostly energy
Let's hope STC isn't already corrupted

Whats the situation, sir?
>The Kasrkin would stand tall towards the Captain

>she roughly grabs his ear with the off powerfist and drags him away from the hanger controles
Bad! Bad Matthias!! We don't do that!
>she sprays him with a spray bottle

>grunting in annoyance, I grab the slave by the throat and hurl him from the forts top, then I climb down to jog to the other fort, staying in cover when I enter the forts weapons range

>Matthias would be finishing his checks on his equipment.
Vox bead... Working...
Hellgun.... Fully charged...
Power sword.... fully powered, and sharpened.
And my armour Refractor field are fully functional.

How about you, Darling? Are you prepped and ready?

>Hooded figure wanders near a fallen slave
Are you okay honored...meat, should I bring you to the sister Illya?
>Begins checking his pockets

Rolled 16 (1d20)

*with casino slave free of the fortress, the leaking prometheum barrels would be ignited by the proximity sensor, detonating the majority of the fortress before the team killing fucktard can run over to the other fort*
*roll for explosion*

>violent nodding and protecting of pockets

>Grabs him
Now, now I'm also expecting a payment for the rescue since you are not a full member of the regiment, yes
>Drags out of the hangar

Ow! Ow! Ow! What the hell is that for? What in the God-Emperor's name has gotten into you!

>Wiping away the water, and rubbing his now sore ear. He would give the Kasrkin trooper a strange look.
>There weren't many of them left in the galaxy, since Cadia had fallen. And what was more surprising, was the fact that one had been shipped here of all places.
>Still, he wouldn't allow his surprise to last long, as he flashes the Corporal a salute.

Mechanicum Explorator craft sent out a distress beacon. Apparently it crashed on some world they were scouting. We're preparing to head down there.

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>with a very annoyed grunt, I drop and roll patting away at my exposed skin and burnt flesh

>getting to his feet he looks around

[rolling to remember how to cry in agony]

>I'd give a swift salute to the Captain
I see. I suggest you rally the troops. Make sure they don't slip up. Morale is what they are going to need, especially if it's an unknown world we are entering.

I can see what you're thinking... no venting the hanger. Bad!
>she sprays him again before grabbing her "plasma gun"

>moaning in pain, the tears mix with the burnt flesh as he gets to his feet. he moves towards
Brutus's last known location, as per orders

GRRRRRUAGHHHHH

*brutus would enjoy watching this team killing fucktard suffer*

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>picking up a rock, he hurls it at the fucker he had been ordered to kill.

[if you can see me........and I haven't killed anyone yet, I'm trying]

*brutus would be inside of a fortress and the rock would bounce off harmlessly*

>sitting on a catwalk above the hangar, the sergeant fiddles with his voxcaster
>a couple of seconds later, his voice booms through the deck's loudspeaker system
OI
S-STOP ATTACKING EACHOTHER
SAVE IT *staticky cough* FOR THE HERETICS YOU FAGGOTS
OVER

>He would pull tightly on her ear. Letting his wife know who the actual boss is.

I'd think twice about what you're suggesting, Lieutenant. Lest someone think you were making false accusations. A crime punishable by lashing.

That was the plan, Corporal. I only wish my Adjutant here, had suggested it. As is her job.
>He would crane his head toward Rias with a smile.

*brutus would quickly hurry over and hand him the letter of apology from the mobster*
Brutus... get this.... for you....

>breaking the camra he makes to continue before hearing the announcement

GGGGGGGRRRRRRRRAAAAGH

>he turns about and begins limping back to the commissar and magos

>holding his ears in pain
Holy fuck man, did you have to make it so loud?

READY TO TAKE THE FIGHT TO THE HERETIC, THE XENO, AND THE MUTANT COMMISAR!

>she pulls harder on his
You've done it before
>she then smirks
Don't threaten me with a good time.

>the wounded death worlder revs his chainsword and drops into a defensive stance.

GGGGRRRR

>he grunts at the wild beast.......surely its some animal to unleash upon the sun gods enemies

>Puts an unconcious gambling slave near the medical ward...his pockets are suspiciously empty
>Knocks on the door
>Leaves

Oh, uh, thanks?
>he reads the letter
>then he reads it again
>then he bursts out into joyous laughter
You're my hero, man. That's saved me a few thrones, plus both my kneecaps.

You think these fuck's w-woulda listened if I whispered? I don't think the big'un even speaks Gothic.

>He would flash her a smirk through clenched teeth, as he pulls harder on her's.

It's not a threat. It's a promise, Darling.

>I'd look to the man's wife, rolling his eyes
Riiight.
Well I suggest you do it quick. I believe we are coming up onto the location of the distress beacon.

By the Emperor, how heretical.

>The Commissar would pull out a piece of parchment on a clip board, along with a pen.
>He would check something off as he mutters outloud.

One felinid.... Check!

>He he's doing this, he would fire a bolt pistol round at the man's foot.

Hush you.

>gripping my foot, I fall to the ground growling

>it seems he can no longer walk

Excuse me captain, can you direct me to a munitorum clerk?

No... problem.....
Van man.....

>Matthias would nod his head.

So I've been told over the vox, Corporal. I'd suggest you head to your assigned company. Dismissed!

>The Praetorian Officer would flash the man a crisp salute with his one good hand, even as he uses the other to tug at his wife's ear.

Rolled 72 (1d100)

>he fiddles further with his voxcaster
>rolling

You see that robot guy in the fancy suit?
>he points to Viktor
He's your best bet. Just don't shake his hand without reading the small print. Twice.

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>Illya would already be working diligently to fix the man's wounds.

We haven't even left the ship yet, and I'm already dealing with casualties. God-Emperor preserve us...
>Rolling for medical treatment.

>Ars sits down near a carpet with three hellguns on them
Hellguns, hellguns for sale!
Oh honorable sister
>Points at the beaten gambling slave
He might need your help

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>Thats alot of Prometheium burns. And the door needs to be amputated as well.
>A medical team quickly arrives on the scene, and preps him for augments and bionic replacements.
>Rolling for how well it goes.

*would direct her attention to casino slave*

>the man resembles charred grox meat, and still he trys to get up. at least he can grip his hand and move without breaking anything............. and snap goes that arm

ggrrrrrrrruuuuuurrrrrrr

>he waves her aways and begins trying to get away when

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>When he comes out of the medicae labs, a few hours later. His one fleshy covered skin, is now covered in a decent amount of chrome plating, and everything below his left knee is now bionic.

>Illya would attempt to deal with the wounded slave

>with his still treasured blade, he grunts at the sister......I think that's thanks?

>he then goes of to sit next to the troop carriers and work on my blade

>The Kasrkin would rally his squad, a small team of 7 Kasrkins other than himself
>They would form up onto a drop ship, fitting their gumshields into their mouths
youtube.com/watch?v=CIGHCoVzqtk

>Right about the time that everything had settled down in the hanger. The ship would be stationed in high orbit over the planet the mechanicum ship had crashed upon.
>It appeared to be a mostly desert world, with small amounts of greenery and a few large lakes, situated around the equator.
>A voice would come over the ship's innercom.

>"Companies one, three, and seven, please board your designated Tetrarch Drop ships."

You heard the man, lads! Infantry companies one and three, you know where to go! Armoured company 7, start moving! Your machines are waiting for you!

*brutus would wander over in the general direction of the dropships*

>the tall figure approaches the commissar
>he presses a button on his neck
Are you the one they call Knochenmus?

you clever bastard! You know what I like to see!

>Matthias would begin moving along with the third infantry company. Eventually meeting up with the Kasrkin squad.
>He would frown for a moment, before smiling at the sight of the gumshielded mouths.

It's a bit early for that. I'd suggest you wait, so the newbies don't know what's coming.

>He would stow his gear, before taking his seat in the cockpit.

>Picks up a device
Come Victor
>hooded figure, alongside a giant beetle goes to the dropship
>Puts on a gumshield

>the man jolts up from his bed, touching at where there was once a bleeding gash on his stomach and his face
>He looks to the sister weakly, whilst grasping his Aquila rosary
I-I thank you, mio guraritore, I am in your debt. Mio Famiglia will be in your debt, yes?

>the deathworlder takes his place, putting his own gum shield in and sits down

no-one is falling for this shit again

>The Commissar would be walking down the hall towards his assigned drop-ship.

If you're looking for a proper briefing, trooper. Than I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we don't have enough information to do such a thing.

>the man walks towards the dropships, gumshield in hand
I'm not having that shit happen to me ever again, those dental bills were through the fucking roof

*brutus straps himself upside down into the dropship, covering his entire person in administration approved duct tape and sticking it to everything he could find. He would then do the same to his power hammer before finally thrusting a quarter log of wood in his mouth*

>he would take his seat, attaching his voxcaster to the ship's aerial port
>he turns a dial on his rebreather, clicking the internal bite plate into place
e'ey 'oo 'o, 'a'ain

if you're not already involved with it. You should join the discord channel. Get to know some of us heretics, and loyalists. Here's a discord link

discord.gg/5udW6p

>he continues in a monotone, almost servitor-like manner of speech
I have been assigned to be your bodyguard by segmentum command. Please inform me of the current situation

Rolled 48 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>The Commissar would look the man over. A feeling in his gut telling him that something might be wrong with the man's get up.
>Rolling a d100 to determine whether he realised it or not. 80+ required

>He would mentally tell his gut to shut the hell up, before nodding.

Understood trooper. I'll just need to see your forms.