Dominic fires another shot over the top of the planter at the stubber once more.
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Through the spray of dust, the smoke and confusion, Dominic pulls up his trusty Lasgun. The powerful weapon feels heavy in his hands as this may be the first time he has to use it in a real combat scenario. This wasn't the way we planned it. It wasn't the way any of them had planned it, but it was the way things were. With a scowl of dissatisfaction, Dominic flips the gun up over the planter and snaps a shot at the heavy machine gunner in the upper window. The gun makes a loud KREEOOOWNG! as the hyper-voltage round blazes out of the barrel towards the building.
Dom grabs his arm as he feels it go limp. The flying stubber bullets rain down around him. He bunkers down behind the planter nursing the wound. No going that way now. S~~@, this is not how I imagined our first combat situation would go. "I'm hit," he shouts into his micro-bead over the *thump-thump-thump* of the stubber bullets impacting on the street around him, spraying chips off the planter. "They've got us pinned out in the street. What's our situation?"
you have to direct your comrade. Shout at them to get them to do something. They are considered to be unintelligent and will only take default actions if you do nothing (ie: stand there and be useless; story-wise they may fire blindly to no effect, cower behind cover, or just about anything that has no effect on gameplay.) Ps: man that building is further than i thought. i may have to head indoors and avoid fire. I'm no good otu in the open, and I'm not going anywhere with that stubber tearing up the street.
Dominic continues to race from cover to cover, closing the distance to the opposing building.
*twitch*
Seeing the approaching commissar and hearing the terrible news, Dominic's heart is frozen momentarily. We aren't ready for this... but then again, I suppose no one ever truly is. As soon as the commissar barks his orders, Dominic drops his food tray back on the counter. His momentary fear works up his adrenaline levels and he races back to the squad container. He hastily packs his gear and is ready to depart in moments. Dominic follows sergeant Balten through the munitorium quarters and picks up his gear on the far end. As he is handed his Hotshot Lasgun and Carapace armor, he realizes that this is the moment form when on he will be relying heavily on these tools, which up until now he has only faced training rounds and dummy sims with. This is what it all comes down to, doesn't it? Later...
As shots fly out of the upper windows of the building, Dominic looks around for suitable cover. Out in the streets the squad will be torn apart without a chance to return fire. Dom moves up and bunkers down behind a rockcrete barricade. "Orders, sir?" he asks the sergeant through his microbead. My weapon doesn't have the range of the standard M36. I'll need to close in if I want to be effective. That heavy stubber will need to be taken out, priority, or we'll all be pinned down. They've got the high ground. We need to force them to take cover, give us time to advance. The launchers could take them out. Perhaps if we can get our own stubber providing some covering fire...
"I'm familiar with the protocol of the jump from text, Sergeant, though that's about as far as we ever got during basic training. We weren't given the opportunity to do a dry run." Dominic offers, trying to remain confident in front of the C.O. Sometimes even the appearance of confidence is enough to inspire courage and keep morale alive. This would be a bad time to learn if I am afraid of heights. Dom remembers that slightly queasy feeling of vertigo he would sometimes catch when on patrol near some of the larger, deeper mining shafts. He was usually pretty good about it, but there was no telling how he'd react to an airship drop.
"Raska Lubovia, pleasure meeting you both." "Dominic Mendev," says Dom, making sure to introduce himself to the new arrival. "So is this the first tour for the rest of you all too?" "Yeah for me at least, I'm not sure about everybody else." "Aye," Dom agrees, "If I understand it correctly, the bulk of this battalion is comprised of new recruits. Something of a show of confidence for Vantanian military, to bring up a group of fresh, green troops and have them made ready for battle swiftly. 'Course that doesn't mean all of us haven't held weapons before. I was was part of the security detail back on Vantania, so I may have a few years of weapons training on some of you. That's why they picked me for Stormtrooper training. Working security in the mines gave me experience with close quarters that they saw as valuable." Dominic offers Petyr a firm handshake. "Dominic Mendev," he says, making his introduction with the newest addition, "or Dom if you prefer."
Dominic Mendev steps off the lander with purpose, finding his way through the crowd of milling soldiers sorting themselves into their respective squads and searching for their assigned containers to the board with squad postings. "A4E2" he reads off the list. He promptly scans the row of containers nearest and determines a rough orientation from which to begin his search for the prescribed container. His search only takes him a few minutes, as he sweeps the rows of storage units with clarity and determination. This is his first day in the guard; his first day being part of something greater than the security enforcement control squad for an over bloated galactic mining firm. He is determined to prove that he at least will maintain his level of operating perfection during the coming days, despite the chaos that surrounds him. Order is the dominion of man and dominion is man's divine order. These words from guardsman training still ring in his ears, and guide his steps with the purpose that he hopes will carry him from the barracks to the battlefield. Discipline in all things, and protocol above morals. The machine that functions best is a machine that is well maintained. He finds the squad container soon enough. Tossing his bag on the bunk closest to the door he quickly glances over those present. He notes that half the bunks remain empty and concludes that the entire squad has not yet assembled, but goes ahead with an introduction anyways. "Dominic Mendev, or Dom, if you prefer," he says, going around giving each member a brief but firm handshake, "Imperial Storm Trooper at your service. I've been assigned to this squad as a close-quarters assault and reconnaissance specialist, and look forward to serving alongside you all. I assume we are still waiting on the rest of the squad to arrive?"
Since I cannot decide on class (and it is likely to be less than relevant as this game is all about "how fast does your character die?") I will roll 1d6 to determine my specialization, since there are only 6 options we were given to choose from (Weapon specialist, Heavy Gunner, Medic, Operator, Sargent, and Stormtrooper) Consider the results to follow this chart, crafted before rolling (entries listed in order of appearance in core rulebook):
Alright, Storm Trooper it is. Solid choice. Never played one before though. Fits with low agility (sorta) gets toughness to compensate, not to mention Storm Trooper armor. Going to work on a better name for this alias...
Rollin'
Re-roll Willpower
= 1 Cool. Looks like Psyker / Tech-priest material to me. Or just a really ballsy trooper. Very average rolls all about. |