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Muttering to Murjoff, he limps back out of the building.

"Let's get everyone assembled around the northernmost structure and get a temporary perimeter in place before we catch up with the rest of the company. Radio command and let them know, short of counter-orders, we plan to move up the eastern flank through the ruins to see if we can seize some kind of advantage that way."

The sergeant and the remainder of the squad gingerly make their way north to the base of the building occupied by the sniper. An exception is Hathin De'Lark, who calmly strides as if there is no concern to be had. Book zig-zags behind the weapon specialist, sprinting from behind a bush to laying prone behind a small pile of rubble, then to the remainder of some long-neglected wooden shack. The guardsman calls out to his comrade, "For the Emperor's sake! Get your head down before it gets shot off!" He then mutters some oft-recited battlefield litany, probably for the benefit of the sporchi.

Sarge approaches the rendezvous point, his back pressed against a sun-baked rock wall. A few seconds later Murjoff follows suit, speaking contact protocols into the vox.

Also sporting an air of confidence is Commissar Vex. He walks past the slain orks, taking the time to behead each with his chainsword. At the top of his lungs he shouts, "You can never be too safe with these greenskin abominations, men!"

Everyone arriving at the rendezvous point make a Hard (-20) Perception Test.

"Taking my perch."

I start climbing up the ladder to set up my kill zone on the roof.

The spotter waves at Sarge, acknowledging his orders. Scope and Dot scramble up the side of the building and find an ideal location. Although the roof is pitted and crumbling in spots, they carefully position along the northwest corner that commands a decent view of fighting to the north. The sniper lays prone and sets up his rifle and tripod. Next to him the spotter arranges wind gauges and magnoculours.

At a cursory glance Oremor armor and infantry seem to be pushing their way north towards the Brontian installation. There are no apparent greenskins in the immediate area.

Scope, using your advantage from the roof, please make an Awareness Test.

"Well that took longer then expected. Gerr, lets get back to the ship and see if they have any rounds we can scrounge up. This early and only having 1 full drum left is going to be bad."

"Let's get everyone assembled around the northernmost structure and get a temporary perimeter in place before we catch up with the rest of the company. Radio command and let them know, short of counter-orders, we plan to move up the eastern flank through the ruins to see if we can seize some kind of advantage that way."

Gerr looks from Dol back to his NCO. "Uh, Sarge, is it OK if we make an ammo run?"

Ignoring the medic's Parthian shot, the weapons specialist leisurely makes his way across the battlefield.

Lark checks over his plasma, gives Doc a wink and calls out to the Sarge "Sarge you feckin offed that xenos yet? - or do ye need a real man on the job?" as he begins to strut towards where the last sounds of near battle are coming from.

De'Lark sees that the sergeant apparently ignores him and instead peers into a now-quiet wooden structure.

His adrenaline pumping, and refusing to cede the momentum it has given him and his aching ribs, Sgt. Mire rushes across the broken ground between the two dilapidated structures, chainsword in hand, hearing Dol and Edwin's shouts as they corner the last ork in a vicious melee.

The Sergeant uses his good leg to take the small steps leading into the building in a single hop. With panting breath he braces himself against the doorway, managing to see the grisly demise of the greenskin at the hands of the storm trooper.

Me and Dot move to the sturdiest building of the lot to set up on, and give us the best vision down range.

The sniper and spotter move past the first few rows of wooden huts to larger rock-crete structures. Dot tugs at Scope's arm and points to an external ladder that leads to a roof.

7 points damage soaked, one point minimum moves ork #8 from -7 to -8 wounds.

As the ork attempts to stave off Dol's chit-sickle, the storm trooper lunges in and buries his blade into the xenos' chest. The mono-edged weapon cuts through rough leather armor and dermis of the beast. With a vile sound the skin rips away, leaving behind a red ruin of muscle.

Toughness Test required, 1d100 ⇒ 87, failure

The ork falls to its knees and one remaining hand, pukes up foul, putrid-smelling bile, and then collapses, dead in a pool of its own blood, vomit, and urine.

Ork #8 is dead.

WS 29 + all-out 30 + custom grip 05 + ganging up (2:1) 10 = 74
Attack successful, please roll damage

The commissar follows the sergeant's lead and makes for Dol and Drususon's position.

Inside the ran-down hut, Dol aims for the greenskin's head but at the last moment the xeno raises its right arm to take the blow instead.

OK, I feel like I'm on thin ice again but here goes. Chit-sickle is d5+2 + SB 4 + Street Fighting 1 (WS halved, rounded down). So damage is 5+2+4+1=12, subtract ork crit double-soak of 10, moving ork to -7 wounds.

The heavy gunner's chit-sickle easily rips through skin, muscle, bone, and sinew, turning the ork's arm into a dangling ruin. The monstrosity wheezes and drops to a knee. Its bolter clatters to the floor and blood pours profusely.

Ork #8 takes 1d10 ⇒ 3 Strength Damage and is now suffering from Blood Loss

Drususon and Lark are up.

Once De'Lark slumps down next to the medic, Doc is astounded that the weapons specialist can stand, let alone move. Two vicious gun-club swipes from the ork have left massive bruising on Lark's left thigh and some fracturing along the right leg. The medic injects pain-killers and bandages both the thigh and leg to facilitate healing and lend support. The medic knows the wounds will hurt like hell later but the weapons specialist should be okay.

Sarge is up.

Into the Fray--Round 21

Initiative Order
Anselm 13
Scope 12
Doc 10
Orks 8
Sarge 7
Dol, Vex 6
Drususon, Lark 4

With immediate threats neutralized, Scope and Dot leave the shelter of the furrow and move towards one of the larger, more sturdy structures. They sprint past the sporchi as he rifles through the pockets of a dead ork. Dot scowls at Book who shrugs his shoulders in response and gives the spotter a "what can I do?" look.

Doc is up.

...and he moves over to the nearest bloodied ork corpse and starts picking through it's pockets for anything that could be salvaged for barter or re-purposing... it is a filthy xenos, but that's no reason to be squeamish.

Rolling the beast over, the sporchi quickly pats down the slain greenskin. The stink of sweat, blood, viscera, and fecal matter is nearly overwhelming. It wears hodge-podge armor on its torso which is covered by a bandolier of misshapen bolt rounds. It is boggling to the weapons specialist that such poor ordnance could be fired with any sort of consistency. Around the ork's neck is a thin piece of rope with blackened ears, undoubtedly from human, goblin, and ork victims. In a belt pouch is several metal shards which are odd and misshapen. Most look like they were chipped or broken off of machinery or weapons. One piece might be currency but it is so mangled, scarred, and carbonized that it is beyond recognition. Searching inside the flak vest yields a leather bag closed with a tie-cord. Lark opens it and dumps the contents into his hand: four large yellowed ivory ork fangs.

"C'mon, Lark," says a nervous Book as he scans the buildings for enemy, "We are sitting ducks out here. Let's move!"

1d5

Dol, Righteous Fury does have an effect, see below.

The ork wounded by the heavy gunner snarls and lifts its bolt pistol with its remaining good arm. As it does so there is a snap and its left arm dangles even more limply. The xeno shudders drops to one knee, grimacing in obvious pain.

Ork #8 stunned for one round.

Storm Trooper Drususon seizes upon the ork's hesitation. The elite soldiers bounds forward and drives his knife into the greenskin's chest, pulverizing its innards. The goblinoid rasps, doubles over in pain, clutches itself and screams in agony.

Drususon's damage puts ork #8 at -5 wounds and is now stunned for two rounds. Toughness test 44, 1d100 ⇒ 44, succeeds and no fatigue is assigned.

Technically when you roll 1d5 you should roll 1d10 and divide by two so that you can roll 10 for Righteous Fury.

Thanks, Ellipsis. Dol, let's go ahead and assume that's what happened. Per Righteous Fury, go ahead and make a d5 crit roll (in this case d5 and not d10/2 is fine).

Pen is irrelevant here since no armor bonus due to hit location. OK, here we go with the goofy crit rules again. 10 hits (with Street Fighter bonus rounded down per rule) - 10 soak ("double-soak" w/True Grit) = one wound minimum damage to -4 wounds for ork #8. I'm not sure I'm right but I'm ruling no Righteous Fury since technically a 10 was not literally rolled??

As Trooper Drususon readies himself to attack the ork again, there is a crash as Guardsman dol'Tregre leaps through a doorway and collides with the ork. Dol brings down his chit-sickle and succeeds in slicing into the brute's bulging left arm. An audible crack is heard as the blade rips flesh and crunches bone. With a roar the ork throws Dol aside and comes to its feet but the left arm now hangs limp and useless at its side.

Challenging Toughness Test 44, 1d100 ⇒ 28, succeeds. No loss to WS or BS.

Drususon and Lark are up.

Reaction by ork #7, untrained Dodge 10, 1d100 ⇒ 21, fails.

The sarge lets loose with a volley, las-fire ripping holes in the wood floor. The ork, whose attention was riveted on the commissar, attempts to roll out of the way but is hit in the torso. Energy ripples over the body temporarily, scorching skin and igniting its sparse clothing.

13 hits "double-soaked" for 10, 3 wounds added to -1, new wound total for ork #7, -4. Rolling twice for effects due to Sarge's roll of a "-4" on righteous fury damage roll.

Two rolls for fatigue loss, 1d10 ⇒ 5, 1d10 ⇒ 5. 11 levels total of fatigue (had one previously) exceed Toughness bonus.

The ork lurches forward, patting down its body in an attempt to salve its cooked flesh. Instead it collapses to the woodern floor unconscious.

The commissar enters the room, thumbs the toggle-switch of his chain-sword, and in one fell swoop he beheads the inert ork. A misting spray of blood envelops the political officer. Turning to Mire, the now gore-soaked commissar grins, lifts his weapon and shouts, "Well done, sergeant!"

Dol is up.

Doc's delay noted.

The ork inside the northern structure, no longer under suppressive fire, stands and shoots at the commissar.

Modified BS 44, 1d100 ⇒ 49, misses.

A huge chunk of plank-board siding blows outward just above the commissar's head.

Opposite Drususon, the greenskin bellows and attacks.

All-out attack, WS 57, 1d100 ⇒ 1, modified damage roll 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8, substitute 6 degrees of success for damage roll, 9 hits - armor 6 - toughness 4 = no wounds delivered.

The ork's heavy swing connects the butt of his bolt pistol squarely to the head of the storm trooper. Yet somehow Drususon manages to avoid harm thanks to his superior armor and perhaps to his hard, ageing skull.

Sarge is up.

Doc is up. He may take an action or delay as he see Weapons Specialist De'Lark moving towards his position.

With no immediate targets, Scope scans the area for other foes. Other windows, doorways, and roof-tops appear clear. No orks appear between buildings either.

Dot chuckles, "Wonderful. So glad the Commissariat is here to help us do our job better."

After a quick glance to the north, the sniper is unsure whether or not the tide of battle has turned. That the fire-fight is vicious is all he can tell.

Scope is delayed. If any target of opportunity appears later in the round he may still make an attack. Doc is up.

Rifle readied, the sniper takes station. Through the magnoculors Spot mutters, "Westerly, two-point-oh."

The guardsman first surveys the building immediately to the east. Through a gap he sees an ork readying his over-sized bolt-pistol. The sniper lines up the cross-hairs on the greenskin's face but then his vision is obscured. Looking up from his gun, Scope sees with chagrin that the commissar now blocks his line of sight. Turning to the southeast the sniper has trouble distinguishing friend from foe as the storm trooper melees with another xeno.

Scope, make an Awareness check.

Doc is up. As you see Weapons Specialist De'Lark moving towards your position, Doc, you may delay and perform actions later in the round.

Lark's actions noted.

The close-quarter melee continues with the stormtrooper leaping inside the guard of the ork and driving his blade into the greenskin's chest. The creature falls back and rolls with the blow, however. Any damage is soaked by the ork's tough hide and make-shift armor. Drususon catapults himself over the xeno and lands and turns, ready to defend himself for a return attack.

The small engagement of Squad Mire is now just a drop in the bucket to what is occurring north of their position. The Oremor 4th is in full deployment, engaged with ork forces. From their parapets and battlements the Brontian Longknives fight to keep the aliens from overrunning their station.

Into the Fray--Round 20

Tactical Map

Each square=2 meters
A red X represents a dead combatant.
A red circle represents an incapacitated combatant.
A blue circle indicates prone position.
The black lines represent the heavy gunner's pinning fire kill zone.
Each large guardsman icon represent a squad of 10-14 men. They are all moving north at running speed.
PC guardsmen with a comrade can assume their comrade is in an adjacent square unless noted otherwise.
The brown furrows created by the shuttle’s landing gear provide AP 2.
Smaller green brush-trees provide AP 1.
Dilapidated buildings, rubble heaps, low stone walls provide AP 4.
The nearest buildings are approximately 30 meters away from the shuttle.
The main battle between Brontian and Ork forces is off map, approximately .75-1.0 km north-northwest.

Initiative Order
Anselm 13
Scope 12
Doc 10
Orks 8
Sarge 7
Dol, Vex 6
Drususon, Lark 4

Anselm is inside the shuttle. Scope is up (and reloaded).

Half-move one square northeast for Dol. More than close enough to charge next round. Change of weapons noted.

Lark and Drususon are up.

The Emperor is with you, Lark. You are proving to be the unit's skeit-magnet in more ways than one! ;)

Sarge's movement noted.

Between bursts of stubber fire, the Sarge scampers to the far end of the building, skidding to a stop against its decaying wall. Glancing inside he can see the greenskin firing towards Specialist De'Lark. Rockcrete dust and plank-board splinters shower down as the building is peppered with fire, including that of Murjoff who hopes to keep the ork busy.

Glancing across the field, Mire is seized with fear by what he sees next. The commissar is following the NCO's example and also charges the entrenched xeno. Gunner Dol is shocked, just managing to check his weapon as the political officer crosses his fire area.

Vex makes a full move and is opposite the sergeant, occupying the square adjacent to the south-west corner of the building. Dol is up but should cease suppressing fire as the commissar is now in the kill-zone. Dol, you may take a combat action that specifically targets ork #7.

The doctor's well-aimed shot buries into the structure directly where the ork lays in cover. Xeno shell-fire continues to return, however.

Over the tumult Zees yells, "Lot o' fecking good these worthless las-guns are against these things!"

Ork #7 fires at 1-Sarge, 2-Lark, 3-Doc, 4-Scope, 5-Vex, 6-Dol, 1d6 ⇒ 2, Lark.

The thunderous detonation of the krak grenade draws the attention of the ork to the weapons specialist. Shifting position slightly, it takes aim through a gap and fires.

Modified BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 6, potential damage, 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9, Lark please make yet another dodge attempt.

The no-holds barred hand-to-hand struggle continues between the ork and storm trooper. Drususon spots that the monster has decorated its torso with hair, ears, and teeth of victims, human and ork alike. The greenskin leaps forward and attempts to bear hug the Imperial soldier.

Adjusted WS 47, 1d100 ⇒ 74, misses.

Sarge is up.

Scope is up. Options include reloading sniper rifle, using a secondary weapon, or moving.

Doc is also up and has an aim modifier for this round vs. ork #7. BS 30 + comrade 05 + full aim 20 + standard 10 + short-range 10 - prone 10 = 65

Lark, ruling that you aimed for the other ork since your declared target is now dead. Regardless, the grenade falls short and to the left of target square.

With malice the weapons specialist lobs a krak grenade towards the building and upon release his aim looks true with the explosive falling towards an open window. It barely clips a partially closed shutter, however, and the device rebounds. It then slows to a stop in the grass right next to the ork shot by the unit's stubber-gunner. The ensuing explosion leaves as recognizable only the the mid-section and legs of the ork.

In the furrow, Scope wrestles with his coveted sniper rifle and attempts to clear a jam. His spotter clambers over and says, "The ejector assembly looks too tight," then takes out a small knife and pries a release mechanism. Scope is then able to open the magazine with ease.

BS 43 + comrade assist 05 = 48/48, success. Gun is now functioning properly but is now unloaded.

.

Into the Fray -- Round 19

Tactical Map

Each square=2 meters
A red X represents a dead combatant.
A red circle represents an incapacitated combatant.
A blue circle indicates prone position.
The black lines represent the heavy gunner's pinning fire kill zone.
Each large guardsman icon represent a squad of 10-14 men. They are all moving north at running speed.
PC guardsmen with a comrade can assume their comrade is in an adjacent square unless noted otherwise.
The brown furrows created by the shuttle’s landing gear provide AP 2.
Smaller green brush-trees provide AP 1.
Dilapidated buildings, rubble heaps, low stone walls provide AP 4.
The nearest buildings are approximately 30 meters away from the shuttle.
The main battle between Brontian and Ork forces is off map, approximately .75-1.0 km north-northwest.

Initiative Order
Anselm 13
Scope 12
Doc 10
Orks 8
Sarge 7
Dol, Vex 6
Drususon, Lark 4

Anselm has disappeared into the bowels of the shuttle. Scope is up.

Dol strikes with Righteous Fury. Effects shown below.

The heavy gunner checks his fire after a few brief bursts, unsure if his hail of bullets was effective or not. A few seconds later an ork bursts through some plank-board, clutching his bleeding belly and stumbles into the grass. Dol takes measure and pulls the trigger. Stubber rounds stitch the earth in front of the ork and the gunner is able to walk his fusillade directly into the xeno creature. Several rounds strike true, bursting the torso into a red mist of blood and viscera. The ork topples over and is motionless.

Ork #4 is dead.

Inside the old abandoned structure, Storm Trooper Drususon finds the footing to be poor and the quarters cramped. The slavering beast bellows and looms over the Progenium-trained soldier who remains undaunted.

Though he's bleeding his reactions are still fierce and De'Lark weaves out of the way of the incoming fire. Grinning with a cruel leer he barks at Book "More than one way to skin a feckin xenos." hands going to his belt to unclip a krak grenade. Pin pulled, pause given... then Hathin hurls the missive straight at the ork that tried to shoot him...

Half-action draw grenade, half action to toss with comrade assist:
BS (TN: 41+5=46): 1d100 for 2d10+4 Pen 6 X Damage and Concussive (0)
Warmaster - could you check to see if any other bonus / malus applies to the grenade toss? - I'm not rulebook enabled.

Hoping this is mistake-free: Range is SB x3, (thus 18 meters would be long-range) I'm ruling target is just inside that range, so no modifier. BS 41+ Comrade 05 + standard attack 10 = 56; roll of 57 just misses. De'Lark, please roll a d10 for the scatter chart and also a d5 for distance (in meters) by which the target was missed. If anyone sees that I missed something, please let me know.

Dol continues to unload his second canister of the engagement, raking the building with stubber fire which creates a blizzard of rock-crete dust, splintered wood, and plaster shards.

BS successful, random roll to determine target: 1-ork#4, 2-ork#7, 1d2 ⇒ 1, ork #4 hit. Dol please make a damage roll (d10+4).

Going prone and using the sparse foliage for cover, Sgt. Mire surveys the scene.

Awareness test unsuccessful but the following is readily apparent.

The building in which the orks are entrenched have numerous openings and plank-boards missing. From his vantage point Sarge cannot detect any blind spots that may exist. The heavy gunner's stubber continues to burp a steady amount of lead, keeping the ork's heads down. Mire is unsure if he can safely cross Dol's field of fire.

Sarge hears Murjoff next to him in the brush swear as he gets a face full of brambles. The vox-operator grumbles, "I hate this place already."

Here is an updated map.

Commissar Vex fires another shot into the building.

Aimed shot at ork #7. Adjusted BS 52, 1d100 ⇒ 39, damage 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5, pen 4, adjusted to 7 points damage due to DoS. Pen 4 bypasses cover of 4, and adjusting for TB and True Grit, one crit point still delivered. Ork #7 now at -1 wounds and receives 1 fatigue.

A bolt-round hits the xeno in the leg, resulting in deep bruising and what normally would be teeth-clenching pain.

Dol is up.

Full aim noted for Doc this round.

Ork #4 fires at De'Lark, adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 15, potential damage 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
De'Lark make a dodge roll.

Ork #7 fires at 1-Vex, 2-Dol, 1d2 ⇒ 1; adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 99, misses.

Ork #8 makes improvised melee attack at Drususon, adjusted 47, 1d100 ⇒ 26, damage 1d10 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6, soaked.

Inside the dilapidated structure, dust and trash flies about as the ork roars forth and takes a swipe at the storm trooper with his bolt gun. Although the beast hits Drususon in the leg, the blow does no damage.

Sarge is up.

The sniper grabs his rifle and attempts to clear the chamber.

Scope, a Ballistic Skill test is required. Please make a roll.

Doc cured Sarge for 10 wounds, raising him from 2/14 to 12/14.

Doc is up.

Trooper Drususon creates a shower of broken plank-board and glass as he crashes through a partial side-wall opening in the building. The ork inside is startled but nonetheless able to side-step the soldier. Drususon rolls to a stop and crouches with his blade at the ready.

Into the Fray -- Round 18

Tactical Map

Each square=2 meters
A red X represents a dead combatant.
A red circle represents an incapacitated combatant.
A blue circle indicates prone position.
The black lines represent the heavy gunner's pinning fire kill zone.
Each large guardsman icon represent a squad of 10-14 men. They are all moving north at running speed.
PC guardsmen with a comrade can assume their comrade is in an adjacent square unless noted otherwise.
The brown furrows created by the shuttle’s landing gear provide AP 2.
Smaller green brush-trees provide AP 1.
Dilapidated buildings, rubble heaps, low stone walls provide AP 4.
The nearest buildings are approximately 30 meters away from the shuttle.
The main battle between Brontian and Ork forces is off map, approximately .75-1.0 km north-northwest.

Initiative Order
Anselm 13
Scope 12
Doc 10
Orks 8
Sarge 7
Dol, Vex 6
Drususon, Lark 4

Anselm continues to race towards the shuttle and his beloved Sentinel Walker.

Scope is up.

Lark's attack, 9 points damage - TB 6 - AC 4 = 0 wounds delivered.

Although the weapons specialist sees his las-round strike the ork inside the structure, it apparently continues to fire unabated.

Book, who kneels in the grass, yells out, "Let's find some cover, Lark! Those orks seem dug in pretty good!"

Drususon is up.

Will continue Dol's strategy of pinning fire, adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 66

Lark, Drususon are up.

Medic Zane sits mostly prone with his back to the furrow as he rips away part of his shirt to fully expose his wound. Zees Zorzi pads over on all fours and rips open a bag of powdered hemostatic agent, pouring it onto the nasty gash in the medic's arm. Working together they are able to patch up the wound and Doc Zane is ready to go again.

Anselm Tartare turns back towards Mire's postition, a bit confused at first. His countenance turns to one of glee as the realization of the sergeant's orders sink in. He and his comrade head out at a sprint for the shuttle.

Rolling for ork targets. Ork #4 fires at 1-Lark, 2-Scope, 1d2 ⇒ 2, Scope. Ork #7 fires at 1-Lark, 2-Scope, 3-Vex, 1d3 ⇒ 3, Vex. Ork #8 fires at Drususon.

Ork #4, adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 94, misses Scope.
Ork #7 adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 62, misses Vex.
Ork #8 adjusted BS 44, 1d100 ⇒ 92, misses Drususon.

Ork fire is largely ineffectual, allowing the guardsmen to focus their attack on the few remaining foe in the immediate vicinity. Commissar Vex fires his bolt pistol again.

Vex targets ork #7, adjusted BS 52, 1d100 ⇒ 84, misses.

"Damn you greenskin!" the commissar yells, "The Emperor will have your hide yet!"

Dol is up.

The skin of the burning ork turns a charred black and peels off. Melted fat and armor seeps from its vest and clothing and the sniper's las-rounds add more energy to the blaze. The eyes pop like super-heated eggs and slowly the blackened corpse inert and blazing.

As the sniper fires several rounds into the dead and frying xeno cadaver, Spot turns and mutters, "Um, easy there, Scope. I think we got that one."

Unsure of the exact intentions of the sniper's actions, a few seconds later the spotter says, "Targets in the building, due east."

Zane surveys the immediate area, noting that both Sarge and Dol still carry wounds. The medic has done what he can for them; further battlefield treatment will be of little use. The only other squad member suffering from obvious injury is the obstinate weapons specialist. De'Lark, however, is under direct fire from the enemy which poses a problem. Knowing the sporchi's proclivity for violence, Doc is unsure of cooperation should he approach the weapons specialist where he is nor is he confident of getting Lark to retreat to the relative safety of the furrow.

Rolling fire damage for ork #5, 1d10 ⇒ 8, 8 - total crit soak 10 = moves to -8 on crit table, results below.

The skin of the burning ork turns a charred black and peels off. Melted fat and armor seeps from its vest and clothing and the sniper's las-rounds add more energy to the blaze. The eyes pop like super-heated eggs and slowly the blackened corpse inert and blazing.

Doc is up.

The ork at the feet of De'Lark and Tartare continues to roast. With a final, wheezing gasp, the ork exhales its last breath.

Additional fire damage finally kills ork #5.

Whether the rash of weapons malfunctions are due to shoddy workmanship or lax maintenance is a question to be answered later. The guardsmen know there are still enemy to kill.

As he lopes along the furrow Sgt. Mire feels a tug at his jacket. Murjoff hands him the vox-receiver. Establishing himself on the line, the Sarge communicates with Major Scarpa's chief adjutant, Captain Kluge:

<<Mire this is Kluge! Keep holding that flank steady! Just a sec...**vvvvKRAK! KRAK!** ...established a firing perimeter to the north. Mortar units should be able to punch a hole in the greenskins... SSSHHHHKKKKKKKK ...Brontians are hanging on but just barely. Kluge out.>>

A burst of static is followed by a second transmission:

<<Hey Mire, this is Shuttle Spina. Message from the armory deck. The mechs are asking if Tartare can get back here. They're disembarking his Sentinel. Over.>>

Over the din of battle the Sarge hears the reassuring engine thrum of a Chimera as it roars past his position northward.

Into the Fray -- Round 17

Tactical Map

Each square=2 meters
A red X represents a dead combatant.
A red circle represents an incapacitated combatant.
A blue circle indicates prone position.
The black lines represent the heavy gunner's pinning fire kill zone.
Each large guardsman icon represent a squad of 10-14 men. They are all moving north at running speed.
PC guardsmen with a comrade can assume their comrade is in an adjacent square unless noted otherwise.
The brown furrows created by the shuttle’s landing gear provide AP 2.
Smaller green brush-trees provide AP 1.
Dilapidated buildings, rubble heaps, low stone walls provide AP 4.
The nearest buildings are approximately 30 meters away from the shuttle.
The main battle between Brontian and Ork forces is off map, approximately .75-1.0 km north-northwest.

Initiative Order
Anselm 13
Scope 12
Doc 10
Orks 8
Sarge 7
Dol, Vex 6
Drususon, Lark 4

Anselm will delay. Scope is up.

"I cant keep these orcs pinned forever. They have grown some mivonks and think they can fire out of their hidey hole."

After firing a las-round Gerr looks over, "Keep it up anyways, Dol. Too bad we can't burn 'em out!"

In the furrow, Murjoff chases his NCO while making contacts with the vox.

Sarge makes a half-move 2 meters north.

Book gasps as he sees De'Lark toss his weapon in the grass a second time. He kneels down next to the steaming weapon, makes a rudimentary cog-sign and prays, "Gun spirit, do not be angry and forgive the one who wields you. We are beset by greenskins and we need your firepower. My comrade... I know he is impious but he still is the Emperor's servant. I ask again--cool thy wrath!"

Drususon is up.

While Doc Zane uses his countless hours of battlefield experience to patch up the Sarge, the orks doggedly stay in the fight.

Ork #4 goes prone due to pinning and fires at 1-De'Lark, 2-Tartare, 1d2 ⇒ 1, De'Lark; adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 2, damage 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 pen 2, substitute 3 DoS for damage, 7 - TB 4 + 1 flak armor = 2 hits; Lark 1/13 wounds.

As the ork in front of him roasts, a punch in the chest lets the weapons specialist know the fight is not over yet.

Ork #7 goes prone and fires at 1-Vex, 2-Dol, 3-Drususon, 1d3 ⇒ 1, adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 73, misses.

Inside the other building a a wounded and groggy ork shakes the cobwebs, rolls over and spots the storm trooper.

Ork #8 makes a half-move to go to a kneeling position and fires at Drususon; adjusted BS 44, 1d100 ⇒ 43, damage roll 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6, soaked by armor 6 + TB 4.

Firing its shoota, the ork scores a hit but the round glances off the storm trooper rock-tough carapace armor.

Having reloaded, the commissar takes aim and fires.

Firing at ork #7, BS 32 + short 10 + half-aim 10 + standard 10 - prone 10 = 52, 1d100 ⇒ 52, damage pen 4, 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13, 13 - total soak 10 = -3 crits, results below.

An ork crawls along the baseboards looking for a good vantage point when a bolter round smashes its right arm. Its gun flies from its hand and the greenskin now writhes in pain grasping its bleeding appendage.

Ork #7 is stunned for one round. Rolling 10% or under, gun is no longer usable, 1d100 ⇒ 25, weapon is recoverable.

Dol is up.

A simple miss. Las-rifles carry the "Reliable" trait, meaning they only jam on 00.

The smouldering ork lays burning on the grass, emitting little more than a wheezy gasp. For good measure the sniper pumps another las-round into the creature, although it is hard to tell if it had any impact or not.

Doc is up and may render immediate assistance to either himself or the Sarge who is adjacent in the trench.

Plank-boards split and rockcrete shards fly as the heavy gunner continues to pound the building that shields two of the remaining orks.

The wounded ork that attempted to maul Guardsman Tartare turns and sees the barrel of Specialist De'Lark aimed directly at him. It can only stare dumbly as the gun fires a super-heated charge of plasmic death. The bubble washes over the lower half of the greenskin's body.

12 hits damage - 10 soak for TB + True Grit = 2 wounds, -6 on crit table. Toughness Test (44), 1d100 ⇒ 45, fails. Ork #5's movement rate halved yet again and suffers two more levels of fatigue.

The right leg of the ork, already minus a knee, is enveloped and torched. Although the right foot now looks like a charred stump, it somehow still stands.

Drususon is up.

Mire moves 3 squares directly west.

Bedraggled and bleeding, Sarge limps into the furrow with the help of Guardsman Murjoff. Leaving Doc to press gauze against his own arm, Zees crosses the trench, examines the sergeant's ripped, bloody flak jacket and exclaims, "Emperor's Throne, Sarge! You OK?"

"You dumb feck!" grouses Murjoff,"Does he look OK?" Helping the corpsman to open the sergeant's flak jacket, the vox-operator glances at his unit commander, "Hey boss, you want me to shoot this dumb feck now or later?"

.

Commissar Vex kneels behind a rubble pile, checks his bolt-pistol, and reloads.

Dol is up.

Doc sees his sergeant stagger from the ork's blow. Waving at "Zees" to follow, the medic keeps his head down and races north along the furrow-line. The two guardsmen pass the sniper and slide to a stop. Landing in somewhat of an inelegant heap, Corpsman Zorzi looks over and says, "How's hunting, Scope?"

Doc moves 18 meters north and occupies the square immediately north of Scope.

.

Rolling Blood Loss check for ork #5, 1d100 ⇒ 61, survives. Special damage from fire is due at the top of next round.
Pinning test for ork #4, adjusted WP 16, 1d100 ⇒ 32, and ork #7, 1d100 ⇒ 92, both failures and both are pinned.

Ork #5 makes an attack; 1-Tartare, 2-Sarge, 1d2 ⇒ 1, Tartare.

Somehow, despite numerous wounds, cuts, and las-hits, the ork still breathes; although one leg is held together with little more than tendons, the xeno gets up. With smoking flames licking its flak jacket and singing its flesh, the ork looks like some sort of hellish apparition. It lunges for Operator Tartare and lets loose a bestial, "Wwaaaaaaauuugghhhh!"

Half-move to stand, WS 37 + standard 10 - fatigue 10 - head gash 10 = 27, 1d100 ⇒ 70, miss.

Anselm sees the attack coming and steps aside easily.

Dol's stubber forces the other orks to keep their heads down but they take shots nonetheless.

Ork #4 fires at 1-Lark, 2-Tartare, 3-Sarge; 1d3 ⇒ 1, Lark, adjusted BS (with pinning penalty) 24, 1d100 ⇒ 73, misses.

Ork #7 fires at 1-Doc, 2-Scope, 3-Vex; 1d3 ⇒ 1, Doc, adjusted BS 24, 1d100 ⇒ 21, damage, 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9; 9 hits - TB 3 - furrow cover 2 = 4 hits total, Doc now at 7/11 wounds.

In the ditch-line, Doc unshoulders his medicae kit and readies to deliver battlefield care to the sergeant. An ork round glances across the top of the furrow in a spray of dirt and hits the medic squarely in the bicep. Gasping in pain the medic looks at his orderly Zees who immediately opens the med-kit and grabs a fistful of gauze.

Sarge is up.