The 1337th New Texas Abyssal Fists

[Konrad]

The 1337th Abyssal Fists
The 1337th Abyssal Fists are a mechanized infantry regiment of the New Texas Imperial Guard. They were stood up in response to the growing need for bodies within the Spinward Front of the Calixis Sector of the Segmentum Obscura. Their initial foray was to Skrynne, a minor death world with a minor Ork conflict. Afterward, they were scheduled to reinforce the conflict at Green. Unfortunately, they were delayed en route during warp travel only to arrive 5 years late. This has put them in something of a bind logistically, as much of the Departmento Munitorum has already stricken them from the records, officially declared Empyrean ad Infinitum - permanently lost to the Warp. Herein is contained the tales of the Chimera-bound regiment and its heroes: particularly, those of the 16th Squadron.

The Roster

• Sergeant Cyntha Harris
• Operator Ralley
• Heavy Specialist Tiberius "Tib" Girard
• Weapons Specialist Wilhelm Bremmen

Tabula Exanima

• Empty

Loadout:

• Weapons:
  • M36 Lasgun (100m; S/3; 1D10+3 E; Clip 60; Reload Full; Reliable; 4kg; Common)
  • Frags (SBx3 range; 2d10 X; Blast(3), Ogryn-Proof; 0.5kg)
  • Kraks (SBx3 range; 2d10+4 X; 6 pen; Concussive(0); 0.5kg)
  • Combat Knife (5m; 1d5 R; 1kg)
• Armor: Imperial Guard Flak Armor (4 all)
• Combat Gear:
  • Chrono - wristbound mechanical or digital device that tracks Local and Imperial Standard Time.
  • Clip/Drop Harness - +30 to climb tests on descent.
  • Grapnel - Gun with 100m of strong line. Can support up to 150kg weight.
  • Magnoculars - Vision aids, magnify and indicate range to objects within the range marker.
  • Micro-bead - Shaped device worn in the ear to receive and send communications up to 1km assuming no interfering terrain or TX.
  • Photovisor - Visual lenses that enhance low-level light. Grants Dark-Sight trait.
• Essentials: 3 weeks' rations, 1 Uniform, poor weather gear, rucksack/sling bag, set of basic tools, mess kit, canteen, blanket, sleeping bag, rechargeable lamp pack, grooming kit, set of cognomen tags, Guardsman's Uplifting Primer.
• Chimera:
  • Weapons:
    • Turret Multi-Laser (150m; -/-/5; 2d10+10 E; pen 2; clip 100; reload 2; reliable)
    • Forward Heavy Bolter (150m; -/-/6; 1d10+8 X; pen 5; clip 60; reload full; tearing)
    • Pintle Heavy Stubber (100m; 1d10+8 I; pen 3; clip 80; reload 2 full)
  • Armor: Front 30 / Sides 22 / Rear 16; Integrity: 35
  • Mobility: +0 Maneuverability; 15m tactical speed; 70kph cruising speed.
  • Positions: Commander (turret weapon); Driver; Forward-facing Gunner; Pintle Gunner; +12 passengers and gear.
  • Traits: Amphibious, Enclosed, Massive-size, Rugged, Tracked.
• Tarantula:
  • Weapons: Twin-linked Lascannon (300m; 5d10+10 E; 10 pen; clip 100; Reload 2 full; Proven [3], Twin-linked)
  • Armor: 12 Front, 10 Sides, 10 Rear; Integrity: 12.
  • Mobility: Immobile
  • Traits: Immobile, Enclosed, Sentry
  • Positions: None. (Skills: BS 35, A 40, P 35, AWR+10).

Current Status:
The 1337th are just arriving at Skrynne, a death world within the Spinward Front of the Calixis Sector in response to a summons over five years ago.

The Tale
Ain't done nuffin yet.

 

[Konrad]

Expeditio Praesens
Against the Savages: the 1337th's combat debut is on a death world known as Skrynne, in the Spinward Front of the Calixis Sector.

Planet
Skrynne - jungle-ridden death world.

Humanitas
Merit-based oligarchy. Art also has great significance to them, and most citizens are deeply religious (compared to the galactic average).

Defensor Fortis
Known as the Skrynne-guard, the PDF is mostly eradicated. A few cities still stand, but no major fortresses or installations remain.

Logistis
Logistical Concerns: Violent Impasse (-10), Regiment present less than 3 months (-10).
Promethium (Common, +10): several extraction and refinement facilities dot the world, making it quite easy to obtain. Flame on!
Metals (Rare, -20): Skrynne is lacking in raw minerals, meaning metal equipment and spare parts are very difficult to acquire, especially with the Orks dominating the situation.
Food/Drugs/Poisons (Plentiful, +20): Skrynne's flora and fauna are bountiful resources and many have medicinal or toxic properties that the populace is skilled at extracting. Obtaining perishable foods, natural medicine, and basic poisons is very easy, especially in rural establishments.

Adeptus et Militarum et Cetera
Skrynne-guard: Very few members of the planetary garrison remain, but those that do are the hardiest of the bunch. They will gladly provide what little aid they can to those that have come to reinforce them. Expect any request to be fulfilled so long as it does not exceed their capabilities.
The 4th Brontian Longknives: A veteran light infantry unit that prefers the meltagun and autocannon. They've suffered significant casulaties, but they are highly disciplined and accustomed to guerrilla warfare. They will be reliable allies.
Ecclesiarchy: There is a strong religious presence, as indicated by the large number of cathedrals and widespread artwork of Saints and martyrs.

Inimica
Warboss Grimmsnikk Tufgob: A Warboss of WAAAAAGH! Grimtoof. With the Abyssal Fists' arrival, it's a nearly even match now.

 

[Konrad]

The First Engagement - AGAINST THE SAVAGES

ARRIVAL
"On every world that I have visited, I have found some measure of the Emperor's Benevolence. In some places, that manifestation was harder to find than others, but here it is clear. The Emperor has granted us a worthy foe as an opportunity to express our fervor."

-Lord Captain Inquisitor Kobras Aquairre​

The landing shuttle shakes and rattles, but thankfully performs no rolls as the 16th Squadron of the 1337th Abyssal Fists rapidly plummet toward the surface of Skrynne. There isn't much to look at in a cramped Arvus Lighter shuttle like this: half your squad sits alongside you, while the other occupies the far wall, obscured by your single greatest possession: a fully armed and fitted Chimera Combat Transport Vehicle. Its arrival to the squadron is so recent that you have not even had the chance to properly decal and christen the beautiful piece of Emperor-blessed equipment. It sits in its factory-default olive drab paint with no markers other than the blocky white numbers 1337 that adorn its port-side fender just above the treads.

"Touchdown in three folks, and it's gonna be a rough one," the co-pilot declares over the tinniest intercom you've ever heard, giving you three minutes to consider what little you know about the planet quickly rising up to meet your shuttle. Despite having years to prepare, your briefings were... well, brief. And vague. Skrynne is a jungle-infested death world. The populace has a particular attachment to capable fighters and the Ecclesiarchy and great disdain for the Green Menace currently haunting its northern realms. The Orks are led by a Warboss Grimmsnik Tufgob. He sounds like a real prick, and nigh unkillable according to rumor. Not that Warbosses are ever particularly fragile foes, but he seems to have developed an especially fierce resistance to stabbing and shooting and other mundane sorts of death-dealing. Skrynne has also garnered increased attention thanks to the massive reserves of promethium discovered just beneath the surface. "And by massive," your Lieutenant explained, "I mean bigger en a fat grox-mum's tits after er fifth litter." He was kind enough to reiterate the point by informing you that these "grox-tit-sized reserves cain fuel the core Calixis planets fer a century er so."

There's another crackle from the speakers, but whatever the co-pilot intended to share is unintelligible. You quickly discover what it is he might have wished to convey. Without warning, the shuttle shudders to a halt and the bay door descends to reveal the worst possible sight. Las bolts and tracer rounds criss-cross your rectangular view of the landing site. An IG regiment is already engaged with the foe.

Your spaceport is under assault. The Chimera is still strapped in. The world outside the shuttle is hell. The shuttle itself is noticeably damaged and is likely unable to takeoff.

Welcome to War.

Options: +10 Schola (Tactica Imperialis) to analyze the combat situation; +20 Awareness to analyze the surroundings for possible threats and allies in need of support. +20 Tech-Use (must know this skill) to release the Chimera's restraints or a +10 Athletics to brute-force the release of the Chimera. As always, you're welcome to attempt other skill checks, but I will always make a list at the bottom of my posts for skill checks worth highlighting.

 

[Tex]

"Well, looks like we're in the shit!" shouted Tib, a fairly built farmboy with the scarce remains of a farmer's tan. Private Tiberius Girard, more colloquially known as Tib, ran a hand through his short black hair and down to his trimmed matching beard. His hand absent-mindedly stroked his arsenal as his sapphire blue eyes scanned the chaos below as he donned his helmet (Awareness roll: 37 vs 53 [33+20]) "Looks like some folks need help down there." He spat out the remains of his death stick, littering it on the floor -- not like this bird was going to mind -- and "upholstered" his current favorite weapon, a Man-Portable Lascannon, from his back and giving it a once over. He commenting to no on in particular "Maybe I should have splurged for that M41...." he trailed off. "Well, let's go fry some sorry sonsabitches. I was born for this, yall!"

 

[lostabyss]

"Tibbers i swear by the Emperor that if you run out there without us i will kick your ass" exclaimed Wilhelm over the sound of the firefight outside. The gruff middle-aged man struggling with his backpack harness, "Blasted charge pack, Natalia can you strap me in darlin'? We need to get that Chimera out before you go gettin yourself killed Tibs. Where is Sarge?" Securing his helmet over his mottled greying hair that was surely no longer regulation length, he gave his hellgun a gentle smack that brought it to life, illuminating a series of red lights along the rear and flanks of the gun.

 

[Lithairian]

Shaking her head from the hard impact, the Sergeant of the Squad takes stock, her blue eyes taking in the scene. Unclasping her M36, she puts it at the low ready. Sergeant Cyntha Harris begins organizing her squad over the sound of combat through the squads micro-bead, her New Texan accent noticeable. "ALRIGHT SQUAD. Best Landing we could've asked for. I want a perimeter yesterday! Heavies make sure we don't have any uninvited guest to our soiree, Tibs your point! Wilhelm, do a once over on our new Emperor blessed toy here and get it ready and free. Ralley I want our Chimera purring like a kitten when its free and ready. Don't wanta get caught with our pants 'round our legs any longer than we already are!"(IF NEEDED - Command 53[43FEL+10skill] VS roll 61) Though shorter then most in the squad, she never backed down from the position she earned. Always feeling her presence was a tipping point during muster training, Cyntha always made sure that the squad could see her as much as possible. "I want to be sitting pretty in our spaceport!"

 

[lostabyss]

"on it Sarge. Will need some assistance on releasin the beast" looking it over for any damage, Wilhelm tries to release it himself (athletics -10 untrained) but cant get it out of its clamps holding it in place. "yeah i will definitely need a hand here Sarge."

 

[NKdotzip]

Unbuckling her harness at a leisurely pace, Ralley Godwin is the last to react to their precarious landing. Before getting up she licks her palm, using the spit to straighten her mohawk, which is now little more than a disheveled pile littered about her tattooed skull.

"Alright, I'm ready!" she hollers, satisfied for now, "We can start the war now!"

She buckles her helmet to her belt, checks her las, and saunters to the Chimera. Her fingertips glide across the tank's flawless armor plating, and she draws her face close. It smells of fresh oil, ceramite dust, and the incense of the Cult Mechanicus. Hearing the Sergeant's orders, she exhales a shuddering breath, grins something vile and delicious, and works her way atop the metal beast.

"Get in everyone," she shouts to the rest of the squad, "I'm getting us out of this warp-coffin!"

Ralley sees that everyone has started fighting without releasing the Chimera and rolls her eyes.

"Hold on there baby, I'll be right back," she says to the tank, moving to release it from its restraints, "Alright, here goes nothing."
(Tech Use 31 Int +20 Bonus VS Roll of 10)

 

[Konrad]

Girard's eyes narrowed in on movement in the distance. A pair of runtherds each leading a pair of gretchin were ambling rapidly toward the shuttle. They were 90 meters away and running full force down the open runway. Judging by the size of their armaments, they weren't packing much. Behind them, a trio of warbuggies were straightening out from hard fishtail maneuvers and gunning toward the shuttle as well, but they were 150 meters out. There was a single shoddy gun mounted atop each of them. They also possessed at least some sense of self-preservation as they disappeared down the narrow alleys of the surrounding dilapidated buildings. It was safe to assume they were heading toward the shuttle, though.

Other than your shuttle's own bulk, the nearest cover is the ruined buildings either side of the runway-- 30 meters away, and in the direction of the gleefully charging gretchin and their prodding masters. Another 20 meters beyond that, a deep furrow in the runway from the rough landing would make an excellent improvised trench. Of course, the Chimera would also be excellent mobile cover, with the added benefit of guns.

Sergeant Harris's orders, while simple, were largely lost over the commotion. However, the situation was obvious enough to most of the squad. This sort of scenario had been drilled enough during the Warp voyage that the scene outside did not distract the majority.

After Wilhelm's failed attempt to bludgeon the restraints to do as he bid, Ralley quickly assessed the solution. The loadmasters hadn't shown her, but her mechanically inclined easily flipped a couple safety latches and slapped a winch release. The safety restraints clattered free and a few other members of the squad pulled them free of the vehicle. A pair of teammates opened the rear troop hatch, releasing that familiar clunk and hydraulic hiss. The sound finally awakened those that had been entranced by the battle. The infantry half of the team hustled into the rear.

The unchristened Chimera was ready for its first engagement.

 

[lostabyss]

"nevermind Sarge, Ralley got it." Wilhelm files into the Chimera, once positioned, closes his eyes and softly begins to pray.
"I offer my life to the Emperor, I pray that He accepts it.
I offer my strength to the Emperor, I pray that he redresses it.
I offer my blood to the Emperor, I pray that it quenches His thirst.
I offer my body on the altar of the battlefield, I pray He grants me a noble death.
I pray for His protection, as I offer all that I am."
Looking to his comrade and then across to each squad mate, "Im glad yall are here with me. This is going to be a hell of a fight. Emperor protect us all."

 

[NKdotzip]

Ralley hops in the Chimera through the top hatch and works her way to the driver's seat. Her hands instinctively find the dials, switches, and buttons needed to turn her— the tank's engines— on.

"C'mon baby," she says, "Show me your sweet spot."

(Operate [Surface] 45 Ag + 10 Skill VS Roll of 20)

 

[Lithairian]

Satisfied that initial tasks are completed, she looks towards Tiberius and, over the micro-bead, "Tib I want a status report of our surroundings." Turns to the Chimera and begins knife handing it forward out of the shuttle. over the micro-bead, "Move this baby out of the birthing canal! Time to Christen her in the blood of battle!" Cyntha steps towards the end of the shuttle, maintaining some cover and turns to the troops, over the micro-bead,"ALL RIGHT FISTERS! This is what we trained for, the time for sims is long past! Our objective is clear: Take back this space port at any cost! Lets show Skyrnne what New Taxans are made of!" (INSPIRE(+10 to checks on success) Command 53[43FEL+10skill] VS roll 58)

 

[Tex]

"Incoming orks 150m out in front of us!" barked Tib as he took a few steps away from the moving Chimera. He lifted his man-portable lascannon and fired at the closest warbuggy. (BS 79 vs 46)

 

[Konrad]

The Chimera roared to life and smoothly disembarked from the shuttle. The treads clattered loudly down the metal ramp and the troop hatch closed on well oiled pistons.

With the driver and seven men safely ensconced in the belly, the Multi-Laser turret, heavy Bolter forward gun, and pintle-mounted heavy Stubber were left unmanned. The command position, which also controlled the Multi-Laser turret, called to Sergeant Harris. Sometimes she swore she could feel the machine spirit tugging at her mind. It would still leave two positions unmanned.

The runtherds and gretchin had closed to 70m and would soon be close enough to dive into cover in the scar of the plasticrete runway.

With the weapon unbraced and the warbuggy weaving through cover, Tib's shot predictably missed the target, but blasted a chunk of debris from one of the buildings, further reducing it. The warbuggies had closed to 120m when they reemerged from the alleys and fired their big shootas on the only setting they had: full-auto.

It immediately became clear that the squad had nothing to worry about. Two of the buggies completely whiffed their shots. The third landed two rounds that plinked off the sturdy front plate with barely a scratch.

 

[Tex]

"Damn! Let's try that one again." Tib braced his lascannon and fires a second shot at the warbuggy at 120m. (BS 46 vs 12 roll)

 

[Lithairian]

seeing that combat was well under way, Cyntha made for the command position on the Chimera(half action),"Lets get our new toy up and running! Man these turrets boys!" To the chimera, "Alright darlin', lets see what you can do." spinning up the turret controls she aimed at the warbuggies that felt the need to scratch the paint of the new Chimera, "Lets show these Buggies a good time now!" She trains the linked weapons on the warbuggies and lets loose a barrage on them.(half action, action complete) (BS 47(37+10) v roll 82)

 

[lostabyss]

"damn orks are gettin too close for comfort. man the firing ports and give em hell. Natalia my M36 please and thank you (half action)." Wilhelm points the lasgun out the firing port and takes a shot at one of the runtherds. "try to hit the bigger ones, the lil guys will probably scatter", he says as he fires a short burst of shots at one (BS 56 v 35 roll) (half action for semi 2 degrees of success should be 3 hits) (Damage: 8 and 9 and 12 Location: left arm, left arm, body).

 

[NKdotzip]

"Wilhelm stop using your gun and get on the fucking stubber!" Ralley hollers over her shoulder, pulling the Chimera out into the open, "And Tib, you wild gun-fucker, put your cock back in your pants and get in the fucking tank! You have five seconds!"

Ralley slides out of the driver's seat and mans the front-mounted heavy bolter (Half-Action), unloading it in the direction of the approaching vehicles (Half-Action)(Ballistic Skill 40 - 10 Full Auto VS Roll of 42).

 

[Konrad]

Tib crouched at the edge of the shuttle's bay to brace his maybe weapon on the floor and fired again. The superheated bolt of energy cleanly connected with the front of the lead warbuggy. It shook, but the driver corrected, and continued forward.

Cyntha's barrage danced through the trio of buggies and scorched the runway, but found no target. Probably just rusty. Probably.

The Chimera's brief advance was angled just enough to give Wilhelm sight of the advancing orks. True to his job title, Wilhelm looked every but the weapons specialist as he landed all 3 shots on one of the runtherds. In proper ork fashion, he responded by growling loud enough for the Chimera's occupants to just barely hear it. Sturdy bastards, orks.

Ralley also seemed to be suffering a little Warp travel rust as she hosed the runway and nearby ruins with the heavy Bolter. On the bright side, cover would be significantly reduced for their enemies unless they chose to dive into the fissure in the runway.

Which they did. The four gretchin and two runtherds slid into the chest-high (for a human) crack just 45m away from the Chimera. Behind them, the three warbuggies fired while driving at full speed. The barrage would have been impressive if not for the fact that these ork boyz were awful shots. Only a single shot touched the Chimera. Touched is probably a strong word. Caressed is probably a better word, given the way it ricocheted harmlessly into the ground.

Cyntha's squad had this problem in the bag.

 

[Tex]

Tib slapped his lascannon onto his back holster and scrambled into the back of the Chimera, "Yes ma'am. I'm in. Let's finish frying some orks," he chuckled with glee from smacking the warbuggy. Sure it didn't destroy the vehicle, but it looked like a damn good shot rhis name wasn't Tiberiuus Girard. "Where do you want me?"