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Post by Fate's End on Aug 21, 2022 23:51:11 GMT -5
The World of Haven is large, and it follows that a large world has equally large features, some might even say bigger than life. Several hundred miles away from the capitol of Harvest begins the rolling hills and climbing ground of the mountain range known as the Widows. Dominated by a pair of gargantuan peaks that are rumored to be the namesake of the entire range. The largest of the two is known as the Weeper, its lesser sister (still larger than the rest of the range by far) is known as the Quiet One. Together they watch over the vast array of peaks surrounding them. Here in the Widows, rich hunters used to hunt fierce predators, tiny villages clinging to the sides and passes of the mountains would provide refuge for the tourists and eek out a modest living cultivating hunting grounds and trails. In the lower hills and more accessible peaks, villas and mansions dotted the landscape, some accessible only by private flyer, perched recklessly atop the most narrow of peaks. Now in a time fraught with violence and concern, the rich don't come here. The villages that used to provide guides now hunt the game beasts themselves for sustenance and pray for an end of the conflict. Meanwhile other, less savory individuals utilize the mountain range's notoriously difficult terrain to hide away and do business of a new kind. the selling of Arms.
Depending on how the next few hours go, that might change. The Astra Militarum has caught wind that the arms dealers in the mountains are selling Xenos weapons. And so long as the God-Emperor of Mankind rules this planet, they cannot abide such filth. A convoy of vehicles trundles up a modest incline amidst wooded hills, hunting their target in these lower portions and mountains of the Widows Range. The air is cold, frost and danger on the wind, biting into skin and soul. Currently the convoy is halted as secondary reconnaissance is performed, perhaps by the attached Sentinel El Dorado. Two mighty Leman Russ's offer protection of a heavy bulk and thunderous death to their enemies, Bellicosa and Domination are on site and ready to deal death to their foes.
Between the heavily armored protectors idle five Cargo-8 trucks, two carrying cargo that few have knowledge of, others providing some small shelter from the elements for a platoon of the Draxin Light Infantry, amongst their number one Lucas Nongensius. Another truck houses an Ogryn known as BADORK, and his chosen handler for the day. The soldier likely has a name, but the Ogryn has dubbed them Ickle George, and Ickle George they will remain for the time being. Dotted between the Cargo-8's are three Chimeras, bearing between them the majority of the rest of the force, another platoon of mixed soldiery drawn from reaction units in the capitol. Several Kasrkin of Epsilon squad, intended to provide stability and order to the ad-hoc reconnaissance force. Sergeant Caerrick and Lance-Corporal Hoyt likely have their work cut out for them, but this is not unusual for those of the Kasrkin.
The lead Chimera has born the commanding officer all this way, a Lieutenant of Cadia, one Krast Rykerall Kragg, orders penned to him from Colonel Everly herself, detailing the specifics of this hastily bundled together force. Also riding in the lead Chimera would be one Lourn Germaine, attached (perhaps unluckily so) as Naval Liaison in case the orders come down to utilize the power of the Imperial Navy to bring death on swift wings to those the Emperor deems worthless.
Paused for a few precious seconds, fanned out so as not to become sitting ducks, the convoy is alert and waiting for the moment. The road they travel is steadily decreasing in quality, but somewhere up ahead, nestled in a small grouping of large hills and a middling mountain is their target. A Black market hotspot, hidden from all but the most prying eyes.
(Welcome to the Plot thread! Introduce your characters if you'd like, they've been traveling for a solid six hours or so, having made decent time on surviving highways and then slowing down considerably in the hills of the mountain range. If Cassim wishes to be on scouting duty, attempt an appropriate roll as you see fit and do some scouting! If not, an NPC squad will perform some basic recon to give your convoy an idea of the upcoming situation. Good luck and remember, the Emperor protects (probably) )
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cyg
Junior Member
Posts: 58
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Post by cyg on Aug 22, 2022 8:35:11 GMT -5
Krast looked over the piece of paper that contained his instructions, sighed, and folded it up and tucked it under his armor. He sat near the drivers compartment of the chimera, near enough to call out orders or poke out of the roof hatch to get a getter look. He wore most of his carapace on, but had his helmet to the side as he waited. He hated waiting, hated just sitting around when he could be doing something. Sure it was a nice ride, but he would rather be on his feet marching through an area like this just so he wouldn’t stand out as such an easy target.
“Of all the bloody assignments,” he thought to himself, looking up to the display screen of the chimera. Progress had been good so far, most of the roads had at least held up enough for them to use, but as they got closer to these damn mountains the roads were getting worse. It made him nervous. Fat, slow cargo trucks through this terrain, felt like they were asking to be shot at.
“Keep it together, your the officer here. Don’t let them see you jitter.” He made a mental check, making sure he didn’t sound as twisted up as he felt.
“Baskmann,” Krast commed on a private vox channel to his second. A brief paused followed before the bass gravel voice of Baskmann answered.
=Lieutenant.=
“What’s the status on 1st and 3rd squad?” He asked. Another pause.
=Sir, 1st squad is geared to go, weapons hot. Daz reports that 3rd squad is ready to deploy if needed. Something up, sir?=
“No, just checking. Keep the boys on their toes, but don’t step on them, alright Bask?”
A low chuckle came over the vox, followed by Baskmanns reply.
=Ah sir, why else do you have me around?=
Krast grinned a bit, but kept his voice officer stern. “That’s an order Sargeant.”
=Yes sir=
Well, time to make an announcement. Switching to the command channel, he keyed in the rest of the force.
”All units, this is 2nd Lieutenant Kragg. I’m looking for a report on all squad statuses. Also, I want us to get some eyes ahead and above if we can, roads getting worse and I don’t want us caught with our kits open.”
Bring them home safe, lieutenant.
Krast felt the weight of his orders as he finished his call, and sat, waiting, for the responses.
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Post by theredauthar on Aug 23, 2022 1:35:24 GMT -5
Many scouts like to plop their walkers on auto, and just enjoy a blissful walk, taking in the brief moments of peace before the next big explosion. Cassim Sonnam is enjoying this respite. He’s been on enough campaigns to know it’s not going to last. Not for long anyways, so to enjoy as much relaxation as he can.
He hums to himself a catchy tune that someone played at the cantine the other night, not sure what regiment or planet it was from but he intends to find out once he returns to base. He only keeps a lazy, semi-weary eye on the horizon.
“Easy, we’ll get our turn to shine soon enough,” he tells El Dorado’s machine spirit as much as he tells himself. He gives the console in front of him a reassuring pat. He begins to run through a minor system check when a voice crackles on the vox.
”All units, this is 2nd Lieutenant Kragg. I’m looking for a report on all squad statuses. Also, I want us to get some eyes ahead and above if we can, roads getting worse and I don’t want us caught with our kits open.”
He grins wildly. He taps an acknowledgement back before flipping his transmitter on, “Sergeant Sonnam in Scout Sentinel El Dorado receives Lieutenant! Moving ahead! How long is my leash?”
Without waiting for a response Cassim switches controls back to manual and begins to move forwards. El Dorado quickly begins to pull ahead of the column.
[[TheRedAuthar Roll: [+, +, , -] Result: 4 Request: [4d3 f1 t3 + 3]]] [Flashy to show off to his comrades as he pulls ahead, partially to be reassuring, largely to show off]
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Post by alphazoid on Aug 26, 2022 16:08:38 GMT -5
To be entirely honest, Lourn had no clue what he was doing here. He was in the middle of some maintenance on Alasdair when his commanding officer came over and informed him that he had been volunteered for this mission. The fact he might have to call in a lance strike at some point was daunting, to say the least.
Krast's voice knocked him out of his reverie and back into the present moment. He decided to take this moment to check the vox. Better to have it and not need it than vice versa, he reasoned. He pulled out the sheet the aforementioned officer had given him with the relevant information and began tuning the vox to the correct frequency, cursing silently as he made a mistake and started over.
After confirming that he was indeed on the correct frequency, he picked up the mouthpiece and said, "This is Lieutenant Germaine, acting naval liaison. I'm ensuring the quality of reception at this moment and readiness of... Readiness of the lance strike, please confirm."
He waited for his own response before nodding and putting it up. He rubbed his brow between his eyes and turned to Krast. "You doing okay?"
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Post by Warsmith Wolf on Sept 2, 2022 3:51:34 GMT -5
Reconnaissance is a fine, delicate art, among the most important undertaken by the foot soldiers of the Imperium of Man. It is an art form that requires the precise application of subtlety, tact, and guile. It is not a method of warfare in which one typically deploys slow, lumbering battle tanks. Which is apparently why this convoy has two of them. Wallowing in the convoy’s wake comes the deep blue hull and fat-necked battle cannon of 513 Bellicosa, the lumbering behemoth having spent the last six hours alternating between kicking up great plumes of dust (as any Leman Russ is wont to do, being entirely unsubtle vehicles), and giving inspirational renditions of Varvaxian battle-hymns from its external vox emitter – an entirely non-standard device that one suspects was welded to the turret for entirely this purpose. The Emp’ror asks you stand your ground and meet the foe’s attack! Show ‘em your faith and fury, ‘cause that’s what they surely lack! And if they give you trouble, then you crush ‘em with your tracks! The Emp’ror watches aaaallll! This one seems to be one of Sergeant MacVrenner’s favourites, as it has made repeat appearances during the last six hours – each time with one or more verses slightly changed, using much less polite language. On occasion the man himself emerges from the unbuttoned top hatch to get a better look at his surroundings, before vanishing back into the hellfire-hot din of noise that is the interior of a moving Leman Russ battle tank. At some point the 2nd Lieutenant’s request comes across the tactical vox, which causes no small amount of confusion to the crew of 513. “Got a comm, Sarge!” Gunner Pyke, listening in to the command radio while the Sergeant is sticking his head out of the cupola again, relays the report. “Cadians. 2nd Lieutenant says something about reportin’ a crag! Road’s gettin’ worse, ‘e says.” Sgt. MacVrenner glances around at the rocky mountain pass from his cupola. “Lot of crags ‘round ‘ere, son. Was he more specific on which ‘e wanted reporting?” “Don’t think so, Sarge.” Bloody infantry, Elam muses. No mind for giving tankmen proper orders. Sliding back into his chair within the turret, the Sergeant barks down to Driver Jones over the internal comm. “Caution, Driver, road looks to be getting worse.” With that out of the way, he keys the external emitter, and so begins the next verse of ‘inspirational’ marching hymns. Now, you might just find yourself a Tau who’s sat behind a rock, ‘E thinks ‘e’s being clever, settin’ up his target lock! Well, line up that blue bugger, and just shoot ‘im in the – A hiss of static from the jury-rigged device cuts off the last parts of the verse.
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Post by rodbob on Sept 2, 2022 7:19:39 GMT -5
Badork - 87th Mordian
Badork had been sat in the back of the cargo truck for hours now, he had been placated by being able to stick his head out a flap in the side of the canvass covering that was draped over the cargo area. Like the ancient canines of old Terra, Badork had his head in the passing breeze, tongue lolling out. This was the best fun he'd had in ages.
His minder did not share his enthusiasm.
A voice crackled over the vox, Lieutenant Kragg was relaying orders. As the truck driver keyed the mic to reply, Badork yelled "Is dat the boss man on da vox? Tell 'im BADORK says hi!"
Yes, today was a very good day for Badork.
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Zink
New Member
Posts: 24
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Post by Zink on Sept 4, 2022 20:45:17 GMT -5
Kasrkin Kit and tight confines did not mix well together.
Sergeant Caerrick really didn't have any say in the matter, with such minor grievances often falling short of the average problems His Soldiers faced on and off the battlefield, rolling them all into one big bundle that many dubbed 'The Suck' - unpleasant things that were just a fact of service. It still didn't change how discomforting it was - the already cramped confines of the Command Chimera's troop compartment further accentuated by the bulk of the carapace plate she wore, and her own height being the proverbial cherry-on-top to complete the experience. Her Second, Hoyt, was having a far more comfortable experience; With near half a foot of difference between them, the Kasrkin was quite snug in the cramped seat to her right - though it was only Hoyt's stoic disposition that saved him from any ire his way - a single smug remark would've been enough to make him run laps for weeks.
It was silent between the two of them for most of the trip - basic field-maintenance on what weapons they had that couldn't be stowed away in the away compartments beneath them (that is to say, almost all of it) occupying their time as the convoy advanced to the ready position. There wasn't much for conversation between the others, either - not for any animosity or petty reasons, but more out of a quiet solidarity between servicemembers. Neither she nor Hoyt bothered the Lieutenant's folk - being proper Cadians like themselves, proper Kasrkin too, it was an understanding that the calm before the storm was to be savored, not filled with idle chatter. At least, that was the theory anyway - it might has well come off that the so-called 'Veterans' were being uptight and aloof, but that mostly came with the territory of experience decades in the making; The utter separation of familiarity with those of less acumen.
The vox trickled out an annoyance, filtering silently through her helm-laced comm-bead as the Lieutenant issued role-call and status update. She deliberated on a swift response, and was surely beaten by Sergeant Sonnam - a Sentinel Jockey, as the force-composition briefing pointed out. This gave her some time to delay, jerking her elbow out to nudge Hoyt into a state of alertness.
"Ready up. Muster imminent."
Hoyt responded with a click of affirmation over the squad's vox-channel, rolling his shoulders back as he brought himself to a state of readiness - patting down his kit while Caerrick activated the general command frequency for the convoy.
{"This is Sergeant Caerrick, Fireteam Epsilon - Status is Green, we're on standby for mission updates."} Probably not needed over the vox, considering she was just a thin wall of plasteel away from Lt. Kragg in the first place, but inter-squad cohesion was always beneficial. Giving a nod of approval to Hoyt as he flashed a status-ready marker on her hud, the two Kasrkin sat at the ready, waiting for their next orders.
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Post by Fate's End on Sept 11, 2022 21:18:40 GMT -5
Reports trickle in to Krast from the various elements of the convoy as the vehicles idles in the chilly air. Domination sits at the front of the line, its battered turret still and silent, engine rumbling loudly and causing echoes to crash around the surrounding crags and slopes. Up ahead, the scout sentinel pushes forward with superb bravado, sure signs of a skilled pilot at the controls.
For El Dorado and Sergeant Sonnam, this terrain isn't even remotely daunting. The Sentinel's legs finding sure footing as it clambers up the road ahead. So far, so good. Though there are signs that the road has been used in the last several days. In the distant the Tallarn sergeant can spy their first challenge of the day, however. A tumble of rocks and logs has covered part of the roadway just around a bend, invisible to the main convoy for only a few hundred feet, but certainly something that will present problems in the next hour.
In a cargo truck, Badork's current minder tries to scoot gently out of the Ogryn's reach. The young Mordian trooper (actual name: Trooper Ali Mendav. Current name: Ickle George) pokes their head through the passthrough to the cab and interrupts the driver on the vox. "Uh---Ogryn Badork is rearing and ready to go. God-emperor, we're there right? Also the Ogryn says hi."
The rest of the Convoy keeps its distance from each other, careful not to present too tempting a target for any potential ambushes. As the Sentinel checks the roadway ahead, several squads of Draxin Light Infantry fan out and dodge up into the hills, clambering and slipping in the cold snow. Over several minutes they report their findings back with a clarity some might find surprising of their regiment. "Lieutenant, recon teams reporting in. Hills and trees are pretty overgrown, but we do have some game trails in the thicket. Possible to move infantry through 'em, no joy on the vehicles though."
(Everyone: Due to the showmanship of El Dorado, feel free to take an additional +1 on your next roll due to the confidence boost as mutters of it circulate through the convoy. At the moment, things look pretty safe, but if El Dorado reports on the blockage it could get annoying. Orders indicate that the Black Market is somewhere in the surrounding area, and has sold weapons large enough to necessitate vehicular transport before. So good bet it has to at least be close to a roadway of some sort.)
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cyg
Junior Member
Posts: 58
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Post by cyg on Sept 12, 2022 15:54:02 GMT -5
Krast sat and listened as his vox buzzed, hearing the different reports.
"Copy El Dorado, I'm letting you walk around, but stay nearby. Your going to have an easier time with this terrain than our transports." Krast Voxed back, but could already see the Sentinel moving out. Hotshot pilots, always charging forward. Normal Krast would be pissed at this, but, maybe cause he had been sitting around for hours, he felt it light a fire in him to get something done.
Krast looked over to Lourn as he asked, and gave him a grin. "Ah, just figuring out how this whole thing is going to go sideways." He said, making sure his vox wasn't broadcasting. He didn't need another one of those incidents. He reached down and pulled out a worn Lho stick, unlit but obviously chewed on. Krast put it into his teeth and held it, looking back at Lourn. "So, how's our liaison holding up? Sure this ride isn't as smooth as a void ship."
Krast suddenly cringed, pulling the vox bead away from his ear as a loud voice called in. He put the bead back and let the caretaker know he'd heard.
Krast Listened to the last report, and nodded. They should be getting closer now, maybe an hour or so. He waited a bit as the scout teams fanned out and the sentinel moved up, before getting his reports. All the while he chewed on that Lho stick.
Krast ground on the end of the Lho stick, looking over the command board. From everything they knew, the black market should be around this area, and the terrain did support a hidden locale easy. Taking up the operation wide channel, he started giving order.
=Alright everyone, lets get to work. I want some boots out and looking for this market, but keep a tight perimeter near the convoy, I don't want anyone triggering an ambush. Squads Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta, see if you can get along those game trails and get to high ground, scope out anything. The rest of you, tight escort around the convoy for now on foot, we've done enough sitting on our arse's for now.=
=Sergeant Sonnam, see how if you can help the boots find a that market, I don't want to be up here after dark.=
=We have some blockage ahead, can't get the trucks through it. Bellicosa, you get the honors of clearing it. But for Emperors Sake can that music! We're trying to blend in as best a Guard patrol can out here. Save it for the market goers.=
Switching to a direct come to Epsilon, and Badork, Krast let another order go.
=Epsilon, want you all ready to get boots down on me. Want to get a look at all of this for myself, and I'm tired of sitting around. Badork, you too big guy, lets get you out of that can.= Krast finished, and reached down for his helmet. He tucked the Lho stick back into his pocket, sealed his carapace armor and helmet, and got ready to disembark.
"Lourn," Krast voice came, crackling with vox static from his helmets amplifiers, "You're welcome to this little walk, or you can stay in, no issue. I just can't stand being in here any more." And with that the Cadian moved out the back of the Chimera, weapons stowed and winter camo cloak billowing behind him.
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Post by theredauthar on Sept 12, 2022 23:33:00 GMT -5
Cassim frowns at the blockage on the road and decides to call it in. He flips on the vox transmitter but sends just to the command vehicle, "Hey Lieutenant, we may have a problem up ahead. Looks like debris in the road. Rocks and logs mostly. However, that's what concerns me.”
He taps the vox trying to think of the best way to say what’s on his mind, “I don’t like it, sir. It almost feels like someone or something is trying to force us off road. That said, trying to go around or through the debris is likely to leave us as easy targets.”
“Aye El-Tee,” Cassim replies. It’s for the best. The sooner they find the market the sooner they can head back.
He paces El Dorado in front of the game trails before tromping down one slowly, allowing for any boots to catch up if they wish. He tries to keep a weary eye out for ambush or traps.
[TheRedAuthar Request: [4d3 f1 t3 + 1] Roll: [ , , , ] Result: 1][Careful Roll to not trigger traps or ambushes]
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Post by Warsmith Wolf on Oct 3, 2022 3:07:48 GMT -5
“’nother report from the Lieutenant, Sarge! Says ‘e wants the obstruction blended!”
Blended? Bloody Cadians and their weird turns of phrase. “Anythin’ else, Pyke?”
“Think ‘e asked if ‘e could ‘ave something with the music. Not sure what.”
Hmm. “Well, if ‘e can’t be specific, then that’s on ‘im. Driver! Obstruction front! ‘andle with prejudice!”
513 Bellicosa lurches from standby and rumbles forward, as if eager to put the slab-sided dozer blade on her front to good use. Some optimistic fellow painted an Aquila with its wings spread across the blade’s front face, though the poor thing’s already up to its talons in accumulated grime and detritus from six hours of driving. The less said of what it’ll look like after its current bout of crushing through road debris, the better…
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Post by blinddeadmcjones on Oct 6, 2022 9:45:49 GMT -5
=Alright everyone, lets get to work. I want some boots out and looking for this market, but keep a tight perimeter near the convoy, I don't want anyone triggering an ambush. Squads Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta, see if you can get along those game trails and get to high ground, scope out anything. The rest of you, tight escort around the convoy for now on foot, we've done enough sitting on our arse's for now.= with a tired, hungover and surly groan, one of the occupants of the chimeras slowly set about getting out of the seat, pausing only to wait for the Sargeant and everyone in front of her to get out first "back out into the suck we go" hawke muttered to herself before advancing down the lowered ramp, following the standard sweep and observe procedure that had been drilled into everyone [blinddeadmcjones Request: [4d3 f1 t3] Roll: [+, , -, -] Result: -1][careful roll to see if she can spot anything noteworthy]
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Post by alphazoid on Oct 6, 2022 10:06:50 GMT -5
Krast looked over to Lourn as he asked, and gave him a grin. "Ah, just figuring out how this whole thing is going to go sideways." He said, making sure his vox wasn't broadcasting. He didn't need another one of those incidents. He reached down and pulled out a worn Lho stick, unlit but obviously chewed on. Krast put it into his teeth and held it, looking back at Lourn. "So, how's our liaison holding up? Sure this ride isn't as smooth as a void ship." Lourn slapped the side of the vox receiver, hoping it would help clear up the static coming in. Naturally, it didn't. He sighed and settled back in. "I'd be doing a bit better if I knew I was being heard. As for the ride... I've had worse in a plane, believe it or not. Winds can get real choppy, and they'll sneak up on you too." Lourn got up and made his way to the hatch. "Yeah, I'll come with. Need to stretch my legs once in a while, too." As he was leaving, he grabbed a mobile vox-caster that had been hung up and grunted as he slipped it over his shoulders. "Holy hell! Haven't had to wear one of these since the PDF. Forgot how heavy it was." As he joined the rest of the group outside, he drew his laspistol and scanned the area around him to be sure there wasn't anything... untoward nearby. [[Alphazoid Roll: 4df+3 (Careful) [+, , -, -] Result: 5]]
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Post by rodbob on Oct 6, 2022 20:49:54 GMT -5
Badork - 87th Mordian
Badork eagerly got down off the truck stretched his back and rubbed his backside. The seats in that truck were not the most comfortable.
He grabbed his slab shield and swung it across his back, shock maul in his right hand.
He looked around, taking in the mountain views and sniffing deeply of the fresh mountain air.
He picked up hus George by the shoulder straps (much to the surprise of the poor sod) and hoisted him up on his shoulder.
" come ickle George, we going to da front of da trucks, best place for BADORK. Get a good fight too." he said with a chuckle.
The Ogryn deftly jogged up to the front of the convoy of trucks and took point.
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Post by Fate's End on Oct 6, 2022 23:52:21 GMT -5
The convoy finds itself sitting for the moment, the vehicles idling and coughing in the cold. All around, the various units go about their tasks. Guardsman Hawke finds the cold ----bracing? An impromptu hangover cure? In any event, the air is frigid and takes the breath out of many of the soldiers. For Hawke, though. She spies something up in the trees, a fluke of luck or a trained soldier's instincts kicking in, who is to say. What is sure is that for just a moment, Guardsman Hawke spies several figures much further up the hill, moving from cover to cover in parallel to the convoy.
A little ways away, there is a frantic, whispered prayer that sounds suspiciously like "ohshitohshitohshit" from a dubiously named ickle George as the trooper is lifted bodily into the air and placed upon BADORK's shoulder, hands scrabbling for purchase on the larger creature's form. It seems the young trooper is along for the ride, quite literally in this case. But of course, that was their job. "Mind the Ogryn" and "Remember, for now you're ickle George." were the only orders that Trooper Mendav had been given.
So far. . . so good? Mendav supposed so.
Up ahead of the column, El Dorado is able to check the roadblock more thoroughly, and indeed it is booby trapped. Though perhaps the architects of such a booby trap did not have a Sentinel walker in mind when it came to this trap. A grouping of modest sized maiming traps are arrayed in the snow around the logs, in positions where dismounted individuals might approach to excavate the haphazard roadblock. Fashioned with large teeth and operating on a simple pressure plate, they were likely intended for game creatures or local predators and have now been pressed into defensive service. Unfortunately, they haven't a hope of even activating upon a Sentinel, considering the scout machine could easily crush any one of the traps entirely.
Approaching from behind, Bellicosa would also have exactly zero issues with the traps. Though the blockage itself could perhaps be a different matter. But when has that ever stopped a Leman Russ?
For Lieutenant Kragg and Flight Lieutenant Germaine, the air is equally bracing. Is Kragg impressed by the relatively ordered dispersal of the soldiers under his command? Only time and his mind will ensure the answer to that question. For Flight Lieutenant Germaine however, two things happen almost at once. The Static of his Vox finally clears enough for a hard-edged feminine voice to come through. ++flight Lieutenant, this is the Frigate Spirit of Duty, your signal is spotty, but we are in orbit above and ----ble to provide lance strike if necessary.++
The second thing he noticed as he drew his laspistol was the same thing as Guardsman Hawke. Figures spotted in the treeline, several hundred meters away and visible for only the briefest of moments. But unmistakably humanoid figures. If the scout teams continue forward, they will reach the position within the next three minutes or so.
(Bellicosa, feel free to perform a roll of your choice to deal with the roadblock as you see fit. Germaine and Hawke, so far you are the only two to have seen the figures. Numbers are hard to nail down and they are relatively far away, but definitely people.)
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