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/tg/ - Traditional Games

(Continued from >>67964177)
>be me
>"Commissar Oscar"
>dark eldar are surrounding the tank
>we have successfully plead a charge cutting through the enemy ranks and made it to the surrounded tanks
>the Leman Russ executioner commanded by Commander Ivana Prosta is too damaged to move
Ivana, is anyone wounded?
>the void lizard is using a eldar as a club...
>tau are more focused on the dark eldar fags to notice us
>reload shotgun
>if there is one good thing that guardsmen are good at, it's bayonet charging.
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>be abomination
>grey and purple people die much easier than the grey metal men
>some taste better than others to
>the one i am using as a club has stopped screaming and has gone limp
>one of them tries to stab me with it's tiny knives
>grab her by the waste
>bring her to my face
>throw her over a hill as hard as i can
>Be me.
>Ivana Prosta.
>Tank commander.
>Have managed to get inside tank, holding it closed with the left sponson gunner.
>Feel the masses move differently, as they try to stand.
>Cut down by holy fire.
>Just let myself breathe, as the commissar I had ordered away comes into view from the view slit.
>I had given them instructions to retreat, to assist another battle line.
>But they came back, to save us.
>Feel like I want to cry almost, but have to save it for when we're finally safe.
>Order crew sound off.
>Driver doesn't answer.
>Get front gunner to check.
>He's bled to death seemingly. Must have gotten hit outside when checking the drive chain.
Driver's down, everyone else fine! We're immobilised but still in this! Stand clear!
>Open hatch, get some sun.
>Guardsmen still fighting hard, keeping the tank clear.
>Order the others to open fire into the crowd like before, as I take back the heavy stubber.
>Now free to move fully, the Punisher cannon mows down great swathes of them, as the lascannons spear great bursts of light out through many at a time.
>See the big marine slowly being picked apart by a host of the xenos. He's stumbling a great deal, looks slower.
>Time to back him up. Repay the favour.
>Be Hallie Svaarda, AKA Subject #1, former chariot puller
>Somehow not dead yet
>Luckily the Tau and the Slaaneshi Eldar are mostly focused on each other, otherwise we would all be pretty dead
>Still, a number of soldiers who are much more skilled then I am are no longer among the living
>Funny how things work out sometimes
>Like how my main goal in life was to be a respected author living a life of quiet dignity
>Not a dangerously under trained conscript who looks like the half-dressed buxom heroine from a much stained teenagers sci-fi magazine
>Yep, life sure is fricking hilarious
>be me
>fighting hard to keep the area secure
>hear over the vox that the other tank is still functional
>get on the vox and order everyone back
>see a dark eldar thrown over the hill at the speeds a bomber would move at
Ivana, make sure nobody pisses off the Sasha with a warp...dragon I guess.
>start to move back with Ivana and the others
>subjects 1-7 seem to be well adjusted
>at least as well adjusted as 7 civvies who were formerly chariot pullers of slaanesh can be
>make a note to check in with them after things calm down
>eldar still flying around, but they seem to be heading somewhere to regroup and tend to their wounded
>good, gives us time to breath
>head back to base
>Be me
>Eye of emperor.
>About to die. A wounded lion in a sea of vultures.
>Would probably make a good art piece.
>Stagger slightly, focus slips a little.
>Five charge forward.
>Can't raise spear in time.
>Don't need too.
>Entire swathe is mowed down over my head, rounds pouring into the ones around me.
>Turn around.
>The tank is operational, a fortress on the rise.
>Aided by a squad of guardsmen, pouring las fire into the horde in defiance of their perfidy.
>The way is open.
>Need to get back there. No use out here, crippled and half dead.
>Start a shambling run up to the tank, just ignoring the ones behind me.
>A few stub rounds hit me, but do nothing.
>Get to the tank.
>One of the Commissars is there, and the squad looks familiar, and decidedly feminine.
>It's the group of women I led back to the camp before, now helping in saving my life.
>Take time to reload and catch breath, before taking a spot on the tank and firing into the horde.
>Bolt rounds are amazing things.
>be abomination
>see one of the grey people on their box flying near me
>jump up and grab the box
>throw the grey person off
>run to дpyг with box
>give her box
>be me
>the tanks and the troops make it back to base
>tired, covered in mud and dirty xenos blood
>but alive and not enslaved
>so overall we won
>sit down at the mess tent and eat something other than sandwiches
>I’ll take it
>vox rattles off about something about the adepta sororitas
>the sisters of battle are on their way apparently
>eta unknown
>mfw I’m not even a real commissar, I have 7 former “heretics” and warp lizard at the command of one of the laziest Members of the guard
>Be Syba Vech, Dark Reach Kabal.
>Call off the attack.
>We bagged ourselves several dozen of the blue skins.
>Even better, some stragglers from my warband managed to capture several members of their diplomatic class who were apparently here to negotiate an alliance with the necrons or something dumb like that. Already they are talking about how we can bridge our differences by exchanging cultural values. This is going to be fun!
>Wish I could have captured the Custodian or the warpspawned lizard as well, but it just wasn't feasible with so many mon-keigh soldiers backing them up.
>Oh well, no one important died except for some Ynnealidh dwelling new recruits, and we got what we came for, so this is definitely a win in my books.
>be tau fire cast warrior
>got swarmed by dark eldar
>one of them flew by me on their bikes and caught my neck in one of their capture harnesses
>managed to grab my plasma pistol before they notice
>they have quite a few of us I can see
>good luck getting through my armor though
>they grabbed some of the diplomats
>if I kill my captor now that might kill me
>hide the pistol and bide my time to come up with a few plan
>Be Conscript-Trooper Sasha, 74465th Valhallan
>Thank the lizard for giving me a jetbike
>No idea how to use a jetbike though
>Don't really want to try to learn on this one either, it has two large spiked phallic objects protruding from the seat
>Head to mess tent with the rest of the troopers that I recognize
>Too lazy to check if my old squad is still alive, the Fake Commissar, the ex-chariot pulling girls, Ivana's tank crew, a few other stragglers including myself, and sometimes the lizard, the Custodian, and/or the mecha-cat seem to form the defacto command platoon for this part of the regiment
>Idly wonder if Commissar Sasha is ever going to try to reclaim her uniform from the Fake Commissar
>Sit down for a meal of oatmeal porridge and tanna
>Take out a package of brown sugar that I "borrowed" from the officers tent and pour it on the oatmeal to give it some flavor
>The Fake Commissar seems very concerned about something
>Unless more enemies are on the way it is not my problem
>be me
>call everyone at my table’s attention
Ladies and gentlemen, I have good news and bad news. Good news is that we are getting reinforcements. Bad news is that they are the sisters of battle.
>subject 4 seems worried about this news
I don’t know when they will be here, but, should you remain calm and faithful to the emperor, you should be fine.
>write and hand a note to the subjects
>”Hide the brands you were given, and I will figure out how to remove the bomb collar.”
Ivana, do not bring up the subject of the executioner unless it gets repaired before they get here.
>look to lazy Sasha
Ummm...oh yes. Sasha, get some purity seals from the armory and put them on the warp beast, hopefully that will keep them off of you and it, and make sure to hide that warp bike.
>address the rest of the table
Everyone else, maintain your usual orders, and we all should be fine.
>raise my mug of recaf
For the emperor.
>Be Hallie Svaarda, AKA Subject #1, former chariot puller
...Bomb collar
>Wait what?
>I thought that was just a gorget
>Great, so the only part of my body I thought was actually protected with armor is attached to a bomb which will detonate if someone pushes the wrong button on the controller, or the collar gets bumped the wrong way
>Halfheartedly raise mug of shit-tasting liquid in response to the Commissar's toast while wondering whether my current job is even more degrading than my old job
>Be me.
>Comander Prosta.
>Be safe, at base briefing room.
>Battle went well enough after being saved.
>Now apparently we have adepta sororitas landing soon.
>Get told not to bring up the topic of the executioner.
>Pretty sure it's a punisher, but no one likes a pedantic person.
>Set about getting the tanks towed back and fixed up.
>My baby goes first. Most damage.
>Take time to go around crews, congratulating them on a job well done, and making sure people aren't too hurt.
>Noticed that the hammerhead round ripped through two layers of my trousers when it shot the first time.
>At least I have three pairs on currently.
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>be Skitarii Alpha Trosk
>I got stabbed & shot but am still alive
>stagger into command tent carrying a couple of Tau drones and a glowey piece of Dark Eldar tech
>fake commissar, the commander and a few others are sat round a table
>they mention something about Bolter Bitches
>not care
>deposit the captured (hopefully useful) gubbins on the table
>promptly collapse from overexertion
>fake commissar looks concerned
>one of my less retarded Skitarii enters the tent
>mfw it asks me if I require percussive maitainance
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>be me
> Sister Norine Temple
>get a report about some dust ball in the middle of nowhere with a metric ton of xenos and heretics
>bring this up with the Canoness
>she states that we are to head there as soon as possible
>we load up on our ship and head off
>load my bolter and do my hair and makeup
>descend into the camp
>ramp opens and we walk out, bolters drawn
>there is no laz fire
>or explostions
>there are medics tending to the wounded
>did we miss the fight?
>see that most of the troops are at the mess tent
>we throw open the flaps to see who is here
>1 dirty commissar
>a board looking guardswoman
>a Leman Russ comander
>7 dirty, poorly dressed guardswomen
>and a Leman Russ crew
>sister Rheya points to one of the poorly dressed ones and says "Dibs"
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>be Skitarii Alpha Trosk
>the bolter bitches are here
>can't be arsed to pay attention to anything anyone's saying
>mfw one of them points at me and says something in an excited tone
>be me
>realize that there is one thing that all commissars do when confronted with a bolter bitch
>stand at attention and salute
Praise be to the emperor sister, is there anything i can do?
>one of them asks where the filthy xenos went
>state that they retreated not long ago, and that there might be a counter attack
>look at lazy Sasha
Guardsman, could you complete your task at the armory?
>Be me.
>Commander Prosta.
>Hear one of the new sororitas that just stormed in calling dibs on one of my girls.
>Well, not my girls yet, but they will be.
>Ask why were they late, they could have been used in the previous battle.
>Didn't look happy, but fuck them. You don't just be some of the best equipped forces in the imperium, show up after the battle, and expect to gain access to my girls.
>Eye them over.
>Some of them don't actually look too bad honestly.
>Would need to check what they look like out of that armour.
>See commissar is saluting.
>Should I be?
>If I'm asked I guess.
>be me
> Sister Norine Temple
>the Leman Russ commander starts to ask what took us so long
Bad intelligence...
>that and sister Rheya was "studying"
>bitch if you were studying as much as you say you were, then you would know why the gellar field generator is important
>tell the commissar that the Canoness is still on the ship, she will come to meet you when she is ready
>tell him to have a report ready by then
>see a tail quickly sipe under the tent
>not like a cat tail or dog tail, or even daemonette tail
>looked like some massive alligator
>make a note to investigate that later
>leave the tent and make note that the Leman Russ commander is wearing 3 pairs of pants
go to /qst/ for fucks sakes

>Commissar Oscar

yeah truly terryfing name
Guardsman who woke up in a commissar uniform
>Be Conscript-Trooper Sasha, 74465th Valhallan
>Yeah yeah, I get your hint
>Maybe a bit more warning next time eh?
>Kind of intrigued by possibility of seeing a Sister of Battle up close, but grudgingly slink off to find the lizard and hide it somewhere
>Anyone touches my brown sugar covered oatmeal they are going to get a vital organ removed the next time they go to sleep
>be abomination
>дpyг sneaking up to me with a box of papers
>дpyг puts a paper on me
>she says it’s a “purity seal”
>does that make me pure?
>scratch head with claw
>draw triangle and points in mouth
>realize that the tiny knife is still in leg
>pull it out and toss it aside
>didn’t even realize it was in there
>Be me.
>Ivana Prosta.
>The one who looks in charge says it's bad intelligence.
>Could mean anything, but sure, okay.
>I know how it be sometimes.
>Apparently the Canoness can't be fucked coming down with the first wave.
>And yet we have to compile a report.
>Does it need to be written?
>See the one who answered me look at the hole in my pants.
>Don't ask.
>Back to food. Feels like I haven't eaten in years.
>Decide to get close to the new girls. Thank them, ask how they're finding things, and offer support.
>Wonder where the astartes went.
>Surely a big man needs his food.
>Be Hallie Svaarda, AKA Subject #1, Penal Trooper
>Still coming to terms with the fact that there is a bomb in the collar around my neck
>A couple of Sisters of Battle stroll into the tent only about a minute after the Commissar gives us a heads up that they are coming
>One of them points and me and says something to her comrade
>Something must have given me away
>Maybe the boot polish smeared on my cheek doesn't completely cover the brand mark
>Rearrange some of my hair so my face is partially covered
>The tank commander comes over and starts talking to some of the girls
>Normally I would enjoy a bit of small talk, but I am busy trying to avoid eye contact with the Sisters while holding my hair back just enough to keep it out of my mouth in order to eat porridge
>Nothing suspicious here, nothing suspicious at all
>It doesn't help that my vocal cords were partially removed after I gave an eloquent speech on the virtues of moderation, modesty, and selflessness not long after being captured by the Slaaneshi warband
>be me
>well shit
>i need to make a report to the head bolter bitch
>nod to the subjects
>note the scars on the throat on #1
>make a note to bring a pen and paper to her
>walk to the commissar tent and start to write a report oh just what the hell happened
>omitting the fact im not a real commissar
>drink some vodka
>hopefully the meeting with the Canoness goes well
>note a chainsword in the corner of the tent
>no bolter tho
>ill take my stubber and shotgun over it anyways
>walk out of the tent and survey the camp
>Be me.
>Eye of emperor.
>Armour is snarling and grating as I move.
>Had to jury repair it so it can stand up and move to 38% motive capacity.
>Just enough to walk slowly, and look like a normal human in big armour.
>Slightly more sucky. Can't remove because so busted.
>Don't have the kit down here to fix it up besides armour patch kits from the tank pool, but I'm not taking any of those.
>We need those for the tanks.
>And I'm not sure how well they'l work.
>See Sororitas walking around camp.
>Finally arrived.
>Try not to let dislike of their organisation show.
>Walk up to them, quite towering over them, and request access to their armour repair facilities.
>If they deny, I can possibly order them to provide me access, if I can prove my identity.
>Just hope they aren't like the last ones.
>be me
> Sister Norine Temple
>man mostly made of metal clad in heavy armor approaches us and asks for use of our armor repair facility
>ummm...tell him to go to our ship and ask
>he nods and shuffles off
>mechanics scurry about trying to get a tank repaired
>what in the name of the emperor happened to it?
>it's covered in blood of all types, did they run down the xenos?
>shrug it off and continue to walk around
>see something that I can only describe as a massive lizard
>it stares at me and flicks it's...snake tongue?
>see a guardswoman placing purity seals on it
>how...how is that thing not burning from them?
>Be Hallie Svaarda, AKA Subject #1, Penal Trooper
>Wander around the camp looking for the latrines
>That Sister who pointed at me before leans out from behind a tent and beckons me to come with her
>She has a really hungry expression on her face
>Aw shit
>If that is her purge face I am completely toast
>If that is her sex face, then she will notice the piercings and the other brand once she gets my clothes off
>Then I am completely toast
>I can't even bluff my way out of this situation because I can't talk
>Pretend I didn't notice her despite making significant eye contact just now
>Try my best to keep walking despite the fact that my guts are turning to ice
>be me
>on my inspection of the camp I see that one of the sisters of battle is giving a hungry look to subject 1
>walk up to the sister
Would you kindly explain what you are doing sister?
>hand on my chainsword, just in case
>is there anyone on this planet who isnt a horny bastard?
There are 3 people, 4 tops, everyone else thinks with their junk first, and their head second
Begone newfag
>Be me.
>Commander Prosta.
>See the commissar walking up to one of the sisters that was eyeing up the girls.
>Better not have been trying to do something with one of our girls.
>Should interfere. I don't want anything happening to the cute, awkward commissar either.
>And I'm not too against the idea of a sister honestly.
>But there is a little thing differing a dalliance with depravity.
>Walk up, ask if something's wrong, with hand on laspistol.
>Behave with some etiquette. Interest is not excuse for a lack of manners.
>Be me, Eye of Emperor.
>Would have been nice if they told me where the ship was.
>Nevermind, it's the only ornate thing here.
>Order the pilot to prep the ship for travel back to the ship.
>Tries to protest, but obeys when ordered to, and reminded of her place.
>Apparently, air traffic control in the ship doesn't like unexpected trips, and I actively take over the vox link, and argue all the way to their vessel.
>Set down in main hanger.
>Walk out, noisily and irregularly, leaning on my spear.
>Mfw two squads of religious zealots in power armour are standing there, levelling bolters and a melta gun.
>Definitely can't fight way out, but I stand roughly a metre taller then most of them, and this armour does look rather intimidating.
>Ask what the meaning of this is to the most high ranking person there.

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