Cormaeg MacCammon.'s page

Cormaegs expression remains completely neutral, but inwardly, he can't help but chuckle just a little bit.
Camp gossip, so it starts...

Cormaeg favours Leni with a boyish grin, seemingly taking at least twenty years of his face through sheer mischievousness alone.
"Don't worry, you don't get to be my age without learning to listen to your body from time to time.
I'm no Thud, but I'm a lot tougher than I look.
...
And I do look plenty though as it is, even if I do say so myself."

After a moment, he does relent and takes a seat despite his previous boast.
"You also don't get to be my age without learning to listen to the women in your life."

Cormaeg, tired of essentially playing possum, decides to resume command for now.

Rising steadily to his feet, despite the comfortable position fo being cradled be Leni, he takes the vox to give a few short orders.

"This is Lt MacCammon. For now, the order is close formation, we will strike together, like the emperor's own fist.
For now, we will NOT dismount.
Arrow formation, Peal already have the lead, so we will offer support from the flanks."

He then takes a few moments to repeat the orders until he gets confirmations.

Back in the camp of the regiment, "Deaf Joe" gives the (loud) order to one of the Basilisk crew to fire.
Loading in an earth-shaker shell, adjusting the coordinate just a little, the shell leaves the cannon followed by the traditional cry of "Shatter their sky!".

The shell flies high, piercing the clouds as it reaches the highest point of it's arc.
For a moment it seems to hang in the air, peaceful, silent, calm...
And then it begins it's descent again.

Once more it breaches the clouds, picking up speed, an instrument of destruction.

Below, a mighty figure strides forward, it's massive frame clad in ancient power armour.
It's voice echoes inside the ceramite helmet, an inhuman roar of rage and glee at the prospect of the slaughter of the corpse emperors weaklings.

The weak cultist are galvanised by the presence of such an engine of destruction and surge forward again.

Throwing it's head back, the great figure once more roars, only now, halfway through giving voice to it's rage, the cry gives way to a surprised, strangled wheeze as it spots the shell, seemingly aimed perfectly at it's head.

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Cormaegs eyes snaps open and he blinks in confusion.
After a moment, he realises he is on the floor.
Had he been a younger and more impulsive man, he might have attempted to get up right away, but age does lend itself to a certain cautious wisdom.

Instead he slowly and methodically begin to wiggle his toes and fingers, testing that his limbs obey his command.
Since everything seems to be working, he looks up and spots Leni.
While she is clearly holding him, she doesn't seem to be focusing her attention on him at the moment.
That's good, it means that he cannot be in immediate danger at the moment.

So, he takes a moment to try and discern what is going on around him.

Realising that shouting would be a bit silly, Cormaeg does raise his voice a bit as he replies.

<<Good to hear you Joe. We've got a bit of a bottleneck at coordinates <<12.578, 35.456>>, I was wondering if you could help me "uncork" the bottle so we could have ourself a little celebration?>>

Something clicks in Cormaegs mind.
Considering all the LITERAL chaos that has been going on around him, it could be forgiven that his head hasn't completely gotten back in the game yet.

"Before we do this on our own though...
Call up command on the long range Vox.
Code: Lateral, 0, working, Beryl, aggressor, lhostick, lhostick.
Time to request some artillery support."

"You heard the enginseer, pick your targets carefully when you can."

Cormaeg then heads into the driver area so he can give the driver instructions in person.

"Listen, patch me through to the other APC's, maximum encryption. I don't want the enemy to hear the plans."

Waiting for a moment for the link to be set up, he then gives orders according to his very rudimentary plan.

"Listen up and listen up good.
The plan is as follow, we'll advance in line, until we reach optimum firing range, and then we pour everything we have into them.
Eventually they'll break and either charge or retreat.
On my command, we'll start retreating, backing up and keep up the fire. On my second command, we'll reverse course again, and charge full tilt into them, crushing them under our threads.
The trick is to thin the herd enough that we won't be bogged down by them when we paste 'em."

"Can you get a bead on them? We'll need visual confirmation and a touch more information before we make a decision."

Hmmph, so, we have finally got that little "adventure" well and over with.

Cormaeg checks his chrono for a moment, and the consults the dateslate with the orders on it.

Hmmm, looks like command have given some leeway with the time, sensible that, but I don't think we can afford another delay like the last one.

"This is the TRUE might of the Empire!
A might we are a small but not insignificant part of, so behold our might and be proud of it!
We are the sons and daughters of the empire, soldiers in the imperial guard.
We are the emperors own hammer, and we will smash every opposition!
Remember the credo, Purge the mutant, burn the witch, kill the heretic!"

"More warped damned trickery!
Everything else so far has been an illusion, this might be as well.
Someone, give me an empirical test of their weapons.
They might be able to fool OUR senses, but I bet a gun reading empty but isn't can still fire!
And if not, well, we'll deal with that once we know, won't we just?"

Oh for the love of Zorg!

Cormaegs first outing as an Officer wasn't exactly starting out auspiciously.
For a moment he REALLY wished there was an Inquisitor there to help out, and he even considered trying to "summon" one by using that old joke about nobody ever expecting them only for them to turn up, but it seemed like it wouldn't be such a good idea.

"That thing is weaving and bobbing like a ballerina. Well, when someone does that, you fill the air with so much firepower there ISN'T a damn place to dodge to!
I want everything we got on that thing!
MIST IT!"

"Take the shot Drips."

Hmm, good point. Proving those stripes aren't just for show huh?

Deciding that an open channel would be too big a risk at the moment, they are fighting hereteks after all, Cormaeg ops to use a wider one instead, to make a sweep for the nearby area while his own people collect themselves.

"This is Lieutenant MacCammon, I.D B.4.3.T.4.R.D, calling all imperial forces in the direct area, please respond.
We've been assaulted by foul warp trickery, and are trying to gauge it's overall area before moving on."

"Warp trickery troopers.
However, all it takes is one trooper to resist.
Remember this soldiers of the emperor. Every enemy has a weakness, and a soldier of faith can strike it with the fury of humanity.
Not even creatures like this can stand against the righteous.
You've seen it! Believe it!
When fear gnaws at your heart, Remember your comrades in arms!
We fight for the emperor, but we stand together!
All it takes is one! One to fight for you, as long as one of us keeps fighting, it is not yet over!"

"Emperor damned warp trickery..."

Cormaeg grumbles to himself for a moment, before picking up the vox again and speaking in an authoritative tone.

"This is Lieutenant MacCommon, I want a headcount and causality numbers.
Everyone, sound off now!"

I wonder if we have already lost Piglet?

We're not getting out of this without casualties...just wish it hadn't come so soon!

Command (Fel +10): 1d100 ⇒ 14

Cormaeg goes back to shouting orders into the coms unit, hoping to maybe rally the troopers on the other end to start getting their crap together.

"Listen, you are under attack, unless you want to give in, you better start fighting back!
This is WAR, soldiers! The enemy is upon us, and we're fighting back!
What about you!? Are you going to give up!? Are you done already!?
WAKE UP! GRAB YOUR GUNS! FIGHT FOR YOUR LIVES!
FOR THE EMPEROR!"

Initiative: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

Oh here we go...

Cormaeg quickly decides that the best he can do at the moment is to give orders and make things work as best as possible.

"Pearl! Reverse your course. Crush those creatures with your threads!"

"Pigglet, I want a wide spray on those creatures to both sides of Pearl."

"Scrag!
We have to keep moving.
I don't like it, but we can't wait to recover the Ogryns."

"Pear! Do you read!?
Close the ramp and fall into formation!"

"I know this is unnatural, but that's why we have to keep moving.
We have to push through to the other end, it's the ONLY way we'll survive.
If we stay here, we have NO chance.
Same goes for you Pigglet.
Now hear this, we're going through, and we're taking this fight to the enemy.
I want revenge for this trickery, and so do you!"

Command (Fel +10): 1d100 ⇒ 66
Reroll: 1d100 ⇒ 15

Noticing Drips going down, Cormaeg checks to make sure he isn't seriously hurt.
Finding that to not be the case, he busies himself with strapping him into his seat until he can be seen to better.

He does however remember that furtive glance from before, and decides to use the excuse of helping the private to give his kit a quick once over as well.
If he had something dangerous, like addiction to combat drugs, Cormaeg wanted to know BEFORE it became a problem.

A little crude, but it's sure attention grabbing.
Ogryn's do not make such poor preachers, do they?
And Thud is useful to have around in battle as well.
I'm feeling fairly hopeful for our success.

Tacicia Imperialis (Int +10): 1d100 ⇒ 89
No idea what is going on, I have to hop the emperor is with us...

Fear test (Wp + 10): 1d100 ⇒ 84
Resistance fear reroll: 1d100 ⇒ 43

For a moment, fear crawls up the spine, but then stubborn will reasserts itself and it is fought down, like so many times before.

Hmmph, warp trickery...should have seen that one coming.

"Well done Sgt Tivnan, we're off to a good start."
Leaning closer, and speaking quietly, he offers a small smile.
"You are doing fine, Leni."

Command (Fel + 10): 1d100 ⇒ 11
Navigate Surface: 1d100 ⇒ 25

"Here we go..."

Cormaeg takes out his Chrono and checks the time.
We're on time so far...we'll see if it lasts.

Somewhat cynically, he notes the time down and resolves to check how long it takes until something else goes wrong.

Phew...close one.

"For some of you, this will be the first time you're involved in a full mechanised charge, so you may want to pay attention now.
Consider it your...baptismal by fire."

"Remember, Iron may be hard, but it's brittle, it only turns to steel through fire and pressure."

"Damnation! We're not off to a good start..."

Quickly getting on the horn, Cormaeg uses his most commanding voice.
"Piglet! Get back in formation right now!
The path we're taking is calculated so we WON'T be in the way of the war machines.
THINK dammit! THINK!"

Command (Fel +10): 1d100 ⇒ 12

Fear test (Will +30): 1d100 ⇒ 68
On the money!

"Keep your cool everybody, we're about to enter the "fun" zone."

Fate point +10

"Wait...hang on...Oh yes, here it is.
Right, listen up then pilot..."

Cormaeg relays the details he can make out, making sure to let Pearl know to use the dozer blade to clear the passage from the old wire.

Cormaeg looks at Leni with a touch of concern, but quickly goes back to the problem at hand, resolving to talk to her later in private.

"Ok, opening up to the floor, Anyone else think they can give me a hand here?"

Navigation Surface (Int -10): 1d100 ⇒ 17

"Sergeant, come and give me a hand here.
I've almost got it...."

Our glorious leader...
I'm not high enough on the food chain to have gotten to know him, so I can't really say how much of that I believe or not.
It's a decent enough speech though, and when facing the archenemy, morale is important.

Cormaeg checks the straps of his gear, makes sure that his sword is nicely in place, and walks to the front of the squads.

Should say something myself, it's traditional I believe.

"Soldiers, you heard the colonel.
We, the Serenus 1st, is still a fairly new regiment, and while we have a major victory under our belts, it is so far the only one.
Today, we begin an operation, which if successful, may get us written into the lore of this world, and give us further laurels."

"We're already a somewhat mixed regiment, as we took on significant reinforcements from the last planet, and we may end up with more from this world as well in the end."

"As far as I am concerned, if you stand in line with us, you are a brother or sister, no matter where you came from originally.
We are the imperial guard!
We Stand!
We fight!
We bleed!
AND WE WIN!
NOTHING ELSE IS ACCEPTABLE!
NOW LET ME HEAR IT!"

"OI!
You lot!
Time for final check in. We're to be ready to depart in 15 minutes.
I want all Sergeants to have their squads squared away their gears, the pilots to have taken their places and warmed up the engines, and all troopers lined up, ready to board.
Again, we're departing in 15, which means YOU are to be ready in 10!
Hop to it!"

He then turns to the vox to give an official reply.
"Lieutenant Cormaeg MacCammon reporting in.
2nd Battalion, 2nd Platoon, squads one through three, reporting final checks.
Will be ready by designated departure time."

Hmm, I did not req anything for myself did I?
Just as well, I feel I pushed my luck as far as I was willing already.
Also, what would I get? A spare sword?
I've got a power sword already.
Armour? Got my Storm trooper gear.

Looking around, Cormaeg nods in approval, everything looked ready by now.
A little melancholy did creep into his mood again, as he felt slightly superfluous to requirements at the moment.
Still, he was meant to be the glue that held it all together, and so he would.

Cormaeg himself walks in front of Thud, running a hand through his beard as he mutters to himself.

"Hmmph.
What a surprising turnout.
Despite all the talk about the abundance of missiles, they seemed to have none.
At the same time, they had a lot of Carapace armour...
I wonder if that means they had a large number of casualties amongst the Skitarii?"

Ok, here we go, I'll try for some of the things, and you do the rest.
Logistic Rating: 40
Peer: +10
Time spent on front: -10
Front active: +30
War condition: -10
Total before mods for rarity: 50

Thud:

Mauler Cannon (Very rare, reduced to rare, -20) 1d100 ⇒ 27
Carapace Armor (Scares, Reduced to Average, +/- 0): 1d100 ⇒ 45

Leni:

Carapace armor (See above): 1d100 ⇒ 2
Suture kit (Same as Carapace armor): 1d100 ⇒ 95

Max:

Bolt shells (Rare, reduced to scareces, -10): 1d100 ⇒ 70
Carapace armor (You know the drill):1d100 ⇒ 26

Cuthbert:

Frag missils (Scarces, reduced to average, bonus for being missiles +10(unless it was +20)): 1d100 ⇒ 86
Scatter missiles (Rare, reduced to scarces -10, +10/20):1d100 ⇒ 92

Duct:

Plasma Clips (Rare, reduced to scares, -10): 1d100 ⇒ 14
Photon flash grenades (Rare, reduced to scares, -10 (did grenades get bonuses)): 1d100 ⇒ 92

Command (Fel +10): 1d100 ⇒ 90
Ouch, no no, Reroll: 1d100 ⇒ 37

Cormaeg observes Thud's interaction with a raised eyebrow.
I had forgotten that Bone 'eads are the Ogryn equivalent to officers. This will be interesting.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leans back for a moment.
Leni was settling into the role of a Sergeant fairly well (with her own irreverent spin on it of course), Thud was Bon'eading it up, The Magos was busy doing last minute check ups, and the troopers were mingling.

so this is it? This is the life of a junior officer?
The heavy lifting is done by the NCO's, and the important stuff is done by the seniors, leaving nothing for us?

Rubbing his nose he groans in annoyance.
I need to get promoted again REALLY soon, there is no way I can put up with this for long.

Cormaeg takes the paperwork offered and gives it a quick once over.
A full on Magos? Now THIS is getting interesting.

"Well then, Magos Vidic, happy to have you.
Would you be willing to give our transports a quick once over?
I'd rather take a few minutes for a double check, than lose an hour in the field because something was overlooked."

Cormaeg snaps back to reality and blinks for a moment as he processes Leni's question.
"No, but I think I know whom to ask.
According to the squad makeup I've got here, Second Squad have a dedicated Ogryn handler, a Specialist 1st class Hardley.
If someone is likely to have those kinds of connections, it would be that trooper.
And should that be a bust, we'll have to run it by the quartermasters when we hand these req forms in."

Cormaeg is too deep in his ruminations about gear that he isn't currently paying attention to the others.
Hmmm, another request for Carapace armour...
I have to get buddy buddy with a mekboy at some point, so I can get some insight into how different the process to manufacture carapace is from flak.
Is it really that more difficult and/or expensive?
SOME regiments seem to be able to afford at least partial carapace for their troops.

Subconsciously, Cormaeg reaches into his front pocket and withdraws a cheroot, stick it between his teeth and begins to slowly chew.

Cormaeg nods, allowing himself to switch from stern dad to proud dad for a moment.
"Exactly like that Thud, well done."

Cormaeg stepped back and looked through the req forms he had been given.
Quite a bunch of stuff they want.
If it was up to me, I'd give them pretty much all of it, but...it's not up to me.
And I don't want to break bank with the quartermasters, that'd be bad for my career.
I guess I'll pick the pieces from each form that'd be hardest to get, and let them try for the small stuff themselves.

"Thud, I know you are glad to see "Mamma Leni" but remember, she is a Sergeant now.
You salute her and call her Sarge.
THEN you give her the..."Givey"."

Cormaeg looks sternly, but not unkindly on Thud, radiating his command.

"Remember what we talked about, the men with the caps do not like it if we don't salute properly."

"Ah, Sergeant Tivnan.
Glad to have you join us."

That woman is going to be the death of me, but what a way to go...

"I know that Thud will be pleased to see you once he wakes up.
You are in command of this squad, and you report to me.
Looks like it's a three squad mission we've been assigned to."

Patting the Chimera, Cormaeg nods to Leni.
"They may not have assigned you a medi kit, but they did assign you a medivac.
Before going to the quarter masters, check inside and see if there is a spare one in the kit first."

"That is correct Hastings.
Bone 'ead Thud'Dr is indeed joining us for this mission.
Just "Thud" will do for him, but you'll get a chance to introduce yourself soon enough.
I have little doubt he'll enjoy having another "little 'un" fighting beside him in Melee."

"Hmmm, well, I do want my troopers to be well kitted for the mission.
Here, a standard requisition form.
Fill it in and I'll see what I can do."

"Luck in the guards is usually not a factor Private Drips. Fortunately, we won't be going on our own, and the other transports are better armed than our own."

"As for the launcher, consider yourself assigned to it for the duration Drips."

"Considering that we are in the middle of a Mekboy base, and we're going to fight in their war, you would think they could spare a cogboy for us.
So far, I do not think we've had that pleasure.
At least, my orders do not mention it."

Hmm, what do we have here? This looks like a man who might mirror myself to a degree.

"At ease Private Hastings.
You are looking...in the vicinity of Lieutenant MacCammon."

Taking out a date slate, Cormaeg notices Hastings name assigned to the command APC as well.

"Looks like you are with me, Hastings.
Together with Private Drips here, and our sleeping muscle behind me, Bone 'ead Thud'dr.
The Sergeant has yet to arrive."

"By the looks of your kit, you are specialised in melee combat, Private Hastings?"

"What won't happen again trooper?
I have no idea what you could be referring to.
I didn't see you aiming a weapon at your commanding officer just now, because you did not in fact do that."

"At ease Private Drips."

Glacing over at the "command" APC, Comraeg motions towards it's grenade launcher.

"You are with me in the APC over there.
It's a bit light on armament, but how would you feel about manning the grenade launcher?
Or do you think you would be more useful elsewhere?"

Cormaeg's eyes narrow imperceptibly, he hadn't missed that little glance, but decided to not make an issue of it just now.

"Stubbers as well? Good, that'll be useful.
Given a chance, I'd seek training in flamers as well down the line.
Of course, that is not a concern for now."

Cormaeg considers the words of the trooper for a moment.
"Well, it's hardly surprising. It's most likely made with the Skitari in mind, rather than us flesh and blood soldiers."

Taking a step closer, Cormaeg meets Cuthber's eyes and holds his gaze for a moment.

"For further references, trooper Drips, situational awareness is vital for a guardsman.
According to regulations, aiming a weapon at your commanding officer is an offence punishable by field execution.
I'd REALLY dislike having to waste a trooper on something like that, clear?"

Cormaeg takes a moment to study the new trooper before answering his salute back.

"Private Drips is it? Very well.
I take it from your little demonstration that you are familiar with launcher type weapons?
Any other weapons besides the standard las rifle you are skilled with?"