# The Renegades (Action)



## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Update 1:


“Suit up men! The Greenskins down there want to have a good time, so we’ll throw ‘em a helluva’ party!” Shas’o Skull Crusher bellowed as he climbed into his XV9. The hatch closed shut and he felt the coolness of the Battlesuit systems powering on. “Weapon systems online. Life support systems online. Retro Thrusters online. Go get ‘em Commander!” He chuckled.

The Orca flew over the desert plain, a huge blotch of green staining the sands like fungus. That’s where the Scythes will be attacking first. That “fungus” is actually a swarm of hot-tempered Orks. How kind of them to throw us welcoming party. Just behind them looms the gigantic Stompa Works, where the Orks pump out dozens of their lethal contraptions every day, from the small but deadly Killa Kanz, to the large and powerful Stompas themselves. The Works used to be an Imperial factory, where they would produce machines of war. Now that the Orks took the planet... it serves that same purpose, although on an alarmingly grander scale.

Bullets and ordnance flew across the sky, as the Orks fired on the approaching Tau fleet. The Orca swooped low and the XV9s rushed to the ramp, awaiting the slaughter. The hatch opened and the suits charged out, weapons primed and ready.

Missions: 
Alright team, the Orks are all around us, but they are mostly Choppa Boyz and Shoota Boyz. There are a few Killa Kanz thrown into the fray, however, so be extra wary of them, because they carry heavy weapons and deadly close combat tools. The rest of the Scythes are being deployed around the mob, and our gunships are raining hell on them from the sky. The prey is caught in a pen, and we are the slaughterers.
@Everyone: Kill as much as you can. The army will finish off what’s left.


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## Malochai (May 27, 2012)

Blade-Fisted sighed as a feeling of euphoria washed over him. A wave of air flowed over him and the gel cushions around him inflated. 
“Shas’vre Fi’d’ron,” the automated voice sprang around the inside of his XV9, followed by “Running systems check.” The burst cannons on his left arm spooled and then slowed down, the energy projectors running along his arm fired up in turn, diagnosing themselves. 
“Weapon systems, online. Performance, 100%.”

Smiling to himself, he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, manually checking his suits performance checks. _‘Can’t be too careful,’_ he thought to himself. As always before a fight, he was itching to start, finding it literally impossible to stay still. Were it not for the suit he’d be cracking his knuckles and fiddling with his weapons. _‘Breath.’_ He repeated this to himself, until he felt the Orca sweep towards the land and heard the slight _whoosh_ of the ramp opening. He ran towards the ramp, jumping the gap and landing with a slight bend of the knees, bringing his weapon up to bear. The dull _click-click-click_ of the spooling cannons began to turn into an incessant drone as he powered it up, sprinting as quickly as his battlesuit would allow. His suit AI processed the horde before him, throwing up alerts and tagging some of the more dangerous enemies. _‘Leave them for now, concentrate on the small ones,’_ and then let his weapon loose, letting it tear into the huge mass of orks. A hail of return fire pummeled him in return, and he was buffeted around in the gel-softened confines of his suit. Rushing forwards at a break-neck speed, headlong into the enemy, he swung his fist so that it connected with the first opponent just as he passed it, and it melted flesh and bone, leaving a twitching, headless body on the ground to join those already mowed down by his gun. His Bomblet Projector was working overtime, even the Tau technology inside it finding it difficult to process which targets to track and target. However, it was doing it’s job, and small, powerful explosions surrounded him as he pummeled his way through more and more of the green-skinned menace. He span and sprayed with his cannons, his fist following and leaving more bodies in it’s wake. Sizzling blood spattered onto the iridium plates of his suit.

Feeling more alive than he had in months, Blade-Fisted growled, the speakers making it sound deeper and more animalistic. Completing his third spin in as many minutes, the Shas’Vre saw a choppa descending at murderous, terminal speed. Reacting as quickly as thought, he swung his Energy Glove up to defend himself, and the weapon literally slewed away, metal and wooden shaft both. As he did this, his burst cannon was moving to target the aggressor, his bomblets laying a protective circle around him and, in anger at the sheer nerve of the greenskin to attack him, activated his Repulsor. Whilst the ork was blown away, Fi’d’ron used his burst cannon to tear it to shreds. 

This was when his drones finally caught up to him. _‘About time,’_ he said to himself, using the drone controller to send orders to the AI - essentially to cover him whilst he continued to plough into the heart of the Ork horde. The soft whir of the pulse carbines sounded as they passed the helmet of his suit, punching into sapphire-green, sweat covered flesh. 

“Vile, disgusting, evil creatures!” he bellowed, sounding it over the speakers, roaring savagely and lashing out with his fist, letting the foul creatures melt and burn, and crushing skulls and chests with his burst cannons, shooting through foes. The slugga rounds from the Orks were deflected from him by the shield of his drone, hovering above his head. One more spin, downing foes like bowling pins, and he found himself face to face with one of the Killa Kans. _'Dammit, dammit,'_ he told himself, moving away from it and trusting his gun drone to clear the ground behind him. It advanced on him, quicker than he'd have thought for such an ungainly vehicle, and fired a missile which he had to move to the right to avoid, blasting ineffectively with his cannons as it moved to quickly to gain an effective target lock. It eventually exploded five feet from him, impacting against the solid-packed ground, and sending shrapnel against his shield and some scored faint lines across his armour.

Taking manual control of the Bomblet Projector, he aimed it around the right leg, sending a cluster of ten explosives towards it. He waited the millisecond after they landed for them to detonate, weakening the joint. He then gave automatic control to the shoulder-mounted weapon, and aimed the burst cannons at the mangled limb, shattering the now-brittle material with a constant barrage. The machine fell over, cracking the hull slightly, whilst the rokkit launcher tried, and failed, to aim at him, sending a spiralling missile over his head. The close combat weapon, a huge saw, span evilly, distorting the reflection as Blade-Fisted advanced. Opening the fist of his right hand for the first time since leaving the Orca, he flexed it, and moved behind the flailing Ork contraption, hidden from other aggressors by pulse carbine shots, exploding bomblets and the protection of his shield drone. Fi'd'ron grasped the upper half of the limb, feeling the metal begin to weaken due to the Energy Glove, and then clenched his fist, trying to wrench it from it's socket. The energy field flared up, becoming almost opaque sapphire in colour, and then, with a wrench away from the main body of the crazed creation, he tore it off, trailing wires after it.

_So, DestroyerHive, good enough?_


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## CGall10 (Nov 4, 2007)

"So, this is how it begins. At least orks are easy targets." thought Mont'yr to himself. He felt the Orca begin to slow down as he readied his fusion cascade. He stared at the door only briefly looking back at his comrades in arms. The, the door opened.

His first instinct was to charge to satisfy his need to destroy that which threatened his way of life. Mont'yr changed his mind quickly, remembering to the event years past which earned him the name "the bloodied." Instead he activated his jets and flew directly up to get a decent view of what it was they had to deal with.

After letting his eyes adjust to the glaring sunlight, he activated his scanners. Over the radio he said to his fellow scythes of fury, "the primary group of orks is to out 1 o'clock. There is a small element of orks using the dunes to our left as cover. I'll deal with them."

With another burst from his jet pack Mont'yr glided across the desert sky. Knowing he'd have the advantage of surprise coming in from the top, he drew his sword, and dropped faster than gravity toward the unsuspecting orks.

His landing killed one ork and sent many more flying, the scanners in his head read 21 heat signatures. "That's it?" he thought, "this is hardly going to be fun!" The orks that had maintained their footing charged at the new enemy and mont'yr charged right back, firing his neutron repeater as he moved. Easily killing 3 of the fungi with the semi-explosive rounds, sending limbs, heads, and guts flying through the air. To an outsider, it would seem as though Mont'yr was dancing with the orks. easily avoiding their blows and many of the shootas bullets.

With his swordsmanship he meticulously cut the orks in vital areas such as the neck, lower chest, and armpits. It was over almost as soon as it began, with no orks in sight his heat signatures read only two more orks over a dune, he jumped on top to notice two killa-kans closing in fast. "Now this is more like it!" He waited, patiently, until the first grot driven contraption was feet from him. It was then that he charged the killa-kan, side-stepping the first swing of its hammer. Mont'yr then procided to punch the kan in its "face." From inside the machine he could hear the ork laughing at the futility of the tau's feeble punch. Mont'yr just smirked and fired the neutron repeater directly into the opening meant for the driver to see out of. Filling the kan with chunks of grechin. It fell over in a pile of useless metal.

The second kan was now upon him. Mont'yr taunted it to come closer, backing up at the same pace as it's advance, he then started firing his fusion cascade at it. The kan withstood blast after blast of energy while still advancing at the tau, it wasn't until the killa-kan was 2 feet from Mont'yr that it finally fell. While on the ground the smoking wreak started to move a little, out popped a coughing grot. It was a little disoriented but when it saw Mont'yr it ran to him yelling things like, "Master! I always knew you were the strongest!" and "I swear my loyalty to you until you die!" Mont'yr looked at the tiny creature and said to it, "I made the mistake of trusting that one from another race could see the cause of the greater good. Never again." Mont'yr took his boot and squashed the grot under it. He paused a moment to regain his composure, thinking of what the imperial officer did still bothers him at night sometimes.

He looked around one last time and thought to him self, "Now to rejoin the others." as he jetted off toward the massive mob or orks.


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## Karak The Unfaithful (Feb 13, 2011)

Vral watched through his battlesuit, staring at the carnage that had erupted on the ground as the Orca circled above.

He took a deep breath, as though it had been his first in a lifetime. "Its good to be back"

The ramp of the Orca opened, the wave of green orks surged towards it, hungry for tau blood. The sycthes jumped out and straight into the fray.

Vral observed the battlefield, his comrades already stuck in and drawing enemy blood. to his left he saw a group of greenskins armed with crude semi-automatic weapons firing upon the retreating Orca. Vral prepeared his blade and rushed in for the kill.

Those long years in the jungles of Pech had made him stronger, and the kroot-forged blade cut its way through the greenskin hordes.

He cut them down, left and right, these orks stood no chance. it didn't stop until all had been slaughtered by his mighty blows, the Orca was now safe. He rushed at another squad of the vile orks, these ones armed with pistols and crude axes, but still no match.

Soon the orks around him began to flee, he got onto the comms.

"Shas'O, my sector is secure, what are your orders?"


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

Mon J'kaara leapt from the Orca's assault hatch, still marveling at the manouverability of his XV9 suit. Activating his jetpack he looked around at the seething mass of orks that massed and milled around the area. He activated the magnification in his suit's visual relay, zooming in on a large O'res'la. 
Grinning in his suit he deactivated his jet pack and plummeted towards the beast, activating his jet pack at the last moment. His suit's alarms flared up at the impact, the landing had caused minor structural stress to the legs, but the systems remained fully functional. Mon J'kaara stood up, looking at the huge O'res'la, who snarled at him and waved his crude axe at some of his followers with a bark, the meaning obvious, even with the language gap that seperated them - _Get him!_. Six smaller O'res'la moved forwards, several bearing crude, chain-bladed weapons. The Mal'caor Launcher on his shoulder twitched towards them from the slightest gesture by Mon J'kaara. A cluster of tiny robotic spiders flew from the cannon, exploding into blinding white light. 

Using his HDP, he sent flickering replicas of his armour out in spaces around him, the O'res'la, thinking that more opponents had appeared during their temporary blindness, began firing at the holograms, thinning out the fire upon Mon J'kaara. He opened up with his VFD, a sheet of flame engulfing several O'res'la, then he spotted a crude O'res'la vehicle, standing on two piston driven legs, a rusty but deadly looking set of shear-like weapons on one arm, a whirring buzz-saw on the other. Mon J'kaara opened up with his Heavy Burst Cannon, the sustained fire causing blackened smudges and small pieces of metal to fly off the advancing machine. Eventually, the high powered pulse rounds punched through the dented, charred armour, sending the machine staggering backwards before crashing to the ground. The O'res'la leader, charred and wounded, but still very much alive, threw himself towards the hulking form of Mon J'kaara, and slid neatly through the hologram, blinking stupidly. The real Mon J'kaara stepped up from behind him, sliding both Disruption Blades through the beasts chest. 

Outraged by the death of their leader, more O'res'la swarmed forwards, at least fifty of them. Mon J'kaara leapt into the air, activating his jetpack. When he was flying, he let lose a salvo of incendiary spiders from his Mal'caor launcher, which burrowed into the ground and the O'res'la, before detonating violently. Mon J'kaara landed nearer to the others, spraying out with his Heavy Burst cannon again, cutting down swathes of orks. Eventually no O'res'la remaind within close proximity. 

Flicking on his communications array, he gave an update to Skull-Splitter "Shas'O, nearby threats neutralized, moving to engage the O'res'la on the outer areas." 




<OOC: O'res'la is Tau for Ork>


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Update 2:


Skull Crusher himself was the last one to leave the Orca. He propelled himself into the air, flying majestically and fluidly above the warring mass below him. He always loved the feeling of flying. He aimed his Burst Cannons at the mass and let loose, spitting death from above before crashing down into the fray, sending Orks flying. He grinned hugely, powering on his energy blades. Slaughter is something to be enjoyed, and Skull Crusher is never satisfied until his armor is covered in the blood of his enemies.

The battle ended soon after it began, with the Shas’O and his bodyguard crippling the horde from within while the rapidly deploying Tau force advanced on the horde from outside, pouring deadly fire into the fray. Skull Crusher powered off his blades and retracted his Battlesuit visor so he could breathe in the rotting air. “Well done men. Next target is the Stompa Works. Move it!” He gave a few more orders, and the Tau force had surrounded the Stompa Works, pulse weapons locked and loaded.

The Tau had come here to slay the Ork leader Boss Bloodshanka – a crafty, intelligent Warboss who has caused ruin and carved his name in blood across the stars. Now he is here, hiding on this Imperial world. He will hide in his hole until he is forced out, and only then will he show his face and his martial skill. Despite the renegades’ superior technology, they cannot find the Warboss’ hiding place, as the greenskin had set up multiple scramblers in select few locations around the planet. With these scramblers in place it is impossible to get any reliable Intel, and thus keeping the Warboss in the shadows. The Stompa Works is the first place the Scythes would be looking.

The commander and his bodyguard stood at the giant gate of the Works, waiting. “Shas’O, what are we waiting for? How are we going to get in?” asked the Blade-Fisted. Skull Crusher merely chuckled. “You’ll see. The Orks are never one to refuse a fight.” Instantly, Railguns hammered above them as the Hammerheads opened fire on the gate. The solid shots punched straight through the metal, but with seemingly little effect. “Shas’O, this will do nothing!” Blade-Fisted complained. “Just wait.” The ground began to tremble beneath them. “What is that?” Vral asked. Skull Crusher continued to stand there emotionlessly, as the Tau forces backed away in fear. Without warning, the gate smashed out and flew towards the Scythes’ lines, smashing into the Firewarrior teams behind them. A gigantic beast emerged, howling in rage. Hordes of Orks poured out of the opening along with it, yelling their fearsome battle cry with all their might, “WAAAAGH!”

Missions: 
Well, it seems like they brought a Gargantuan Squiggoth with them! I’m sure our brother the Bloodied can take on the beast. The rest of you focus on thinning the ranks of Orks on the ground, but still be wary of the Squiggoth rampaging nearby – you don’t want to get crushed by accident! We are facing mainly Ork Boys, Killa Kans, and... oh, seems like some Deffkoptas joined the fight!
@The Bloodied: You have the anti-tank weapon! Get onto its head and blow its brains in! Just beware of the Orks riding in the howdah on its back.
@Everyone else: Thin the ranks of Orks. Remember that we have a ton of covering fire provided by our army if we need it.


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## Malochai (May 27, 2012)

Blade-Fisted was starting to feel irritation with Skull-Crusher ... Clearly the Hammerheads were ineffective - after all, this was an Imperial factory, not a rag-tag shack built by the Orks! However, when the gargantuan squiggoth burst out he took a step back, surprised, and then regained his composure. His visor threw up alerts and warnings, but he dismissed them all with a complex series of blinks and clicks in the Tau tongue.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply and then opened them, again testing his weapons and armour. Satisfied with the results, he sent orders to his drones, positioning one to his left and the other to the right of him, slightly behind and above the battlesuit’s shoulders. Happier with their position, he ordered them to hold it, and compensate for his movement to maintain it. Shifting slightly inside the suit to be more comfortable, he finally let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. 

And then he was off, skimming low across the plain before the overrun factory, and sending more energy to his Glove, the fields already encasing the forearm completely in a sapphire shield, almost white, and it gave off a blue light. _‘Let’s see one of their machines withstand this,’_ he growled to himself, and he was totally preoccupied when the explosions of his bomblets started, pulses from his drone’s guns passed the sensors in his helmet and the whine of incoming slugs stopped as they impacted on the unseen shield. A sudden blast in front of his face brought him back to his senses, and he swore vividly. Focussing on the scene in front of him, Fi’d’ron brought his burst cannons to bear, in a great sweeping arc before him, moving down ranks of Orks. Each round punched through the sweat-covered, animal-stench hide of a foe, and then the one behind it as well, showering the ground in a sustained fountain of green Ork-blood. The ground was turning to mulch, and it began to resemble an algae-covered pool. He also manipulated the Bomblet Projector to fire explosives behind the new front rank, trapping them between explosions and Burst rounds. A lascivious grin etched itself onto his face as he murdered the creatures, and he howled with the exhilaration that combat always gave him. 

Blade-Fisted then began to lay about him with his fist, leaving bodies with puncture holes through their chests, or melted, gelatinous goo where their heads had been. The energy surrounding his fist was so great that the resulting mess didn’t even have the chance to slew off onto the ground, so fast did it evaporate from the heat. 

As he massacred the enemies before they got the chance to try and beat him with their weapons, and a large area around him became near-impassable slush under the sheer weight of blood, he came down from his high and examined the scene around him. 

Pools of blood surrounded him, drops dripped from the barrel of his cannons and there were smears from where exploded limbs had splattered against the iridium. _‘It’s a start,’_ he told himself, before being distracted by a _whirr-irrr-irrr-irrr_ sound, penetrating his mind at the deepest levels and irritating him beyond belief. Growling at a pitch beyond human capabilities, he scanned the area and found the source - a pair of ‘Deffkopta’s’ were approaching him from the east. A smile, rather grim, flashed across his face, to be replaced almost instantly with stoic determination. Reluctantly, he turned his Energy Glove off and picked up a choppa, aiming and throwing it in one deft movement. Having anticipated the movement of the vehicle, but not the erratic nature of it. The thrown weapon only dented the oil-filled engine, but the deflection caused it to fly upwards, into the rotors, jamming it and causing the Ork-ish contraption to become earth-bound, falling quickly. The pilot began scrabbling at his harness, trying to get out, but he crashed too early, becoming a pulped paste beneath the hob-gobble mess. 

The second deffkopta was closing, miniguns spooling and beginning to _clunk-clunk, clunk-clunk_ as they began shooting. “Yes, come here,” Blade-Fisted muttered, firing up his Glove again and exploded upwards as it passed overhead, fist extended before him, and it ripped the guts of the vehicle to shreds, sending sparks as torn metal scraped across metal. The engine split and a spark caught, igniting the oil inside with a _whoosh_ . The explosion mushroomed up, a blue and red fire that gave off an acrid stench and forced Blade-Fisted earth-wards. He engaged his thrusters, but they didn’t give him enough power to remove all the force from his impact. Alerts flashed on his visor as he staggered to a stand, showing glowing stress lines on a 3D visual model of his suit’s legs.

Turning his comm’s mic on, Fi’d’ron spoke on the secure squad channel. “Shas’O, reporting in. Large numbers of O’res’la dead, including two deffkoptas. Free to engage again, does anyone require assistance?”


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## CGall10 (Nov 4, 2007)

While on his way to rejoin the team, more orks plus a gargantuan squiggoth burst from the stompa works.

Before he even was given the orders Mont'yr knew this was going to be his job. When over the comms link he heard, "Bloodied, I think you know what to do." He replied with a simple, "Yes sir" and thought about how he wanted to take this one down.

In the past he had killed two other squiggoths. That would be an impressive record, but the time he has spent in the battlefield is more than most Tau could ever dream of serving, or maybe it could be better described as a long nightmare? Not for the bloodied however, he thrived in the the field, he longed for the order to kill the enemy, and he usually did so with little hesitation.

The first squiggoth that he killed, he did so by rapidly firing at it's face for almost 7 minutes straight. That wasted most of his ammo, so he'd rather not do it again. The second one was taken out by leading it off a cliff and to it's death, however there were no drop offs to be seen. "Looks like I'm going to need to come up with a new plan." He thought to himself.

He approached the dinosaur unseen and drew his sword. Killing the few orks that approached him as he hunted his prey.

He then noticed the giant flaw in the orks' design of the howdah. He quickly jetted to the squiggoth and right as he approached it's front right leg and stuck his sword clean through. The beast raised and lowered it's leg, giving Mont'yr about as much attention as a horse would give a fly. Mont'yr then took aim and raised his fusion cascade to the underside of the monster, right at the single thick leather strap that held the howdah on it's back.

It was then that he heard blade-fisted say over the comms, "Free to engage again, does anyone require assistance?" Mont'yr smiled and replied, "No, but if you look to the squiggoth you can watch the show!" With that he fired at the strap, it didn't fall at first, it just wobbled. But slowly the howdah started to slip off the beast's back, causing chain reactions. Such as a few exploding barrels, or the super lobba misfiring and killing at least 30 orks. The Howdah pulled a 180 and flopped to the ground directly below the squiggoth. The stupid dinosaur did not realize that the howdah was beneath him it tripped, at this point Mont'yr was smart enough to realize that it was time to leave and he jetted into the air just as the squiggoth fell from a presumably broken knee.

It couldn't get up, on most other days this would've been enough for the bloodied. However, today had been abnormally stressful. So he landed nest to it's head and looked at it's throught, Mont'yr almost felt bad for it. It should be a quick death he thought. He aimed his fusion cascade at the squiggoths neck and fired, leaving a hole in it's throught. he then took his sword and cleanly sliced through it's windpipe. Mont'yr took a minute to himself and listened to the sound of the monster soughocating. He thought to himself "I wonder if anyone has killed one of these before that way. It's not particulartly hard."

"This is the bloodied, ready to move in. Threat eliminated."


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

Mon J'kaara leapt forwards, soaring into the air once more, Heavy burst cannon ablaze, felling O'res'la in droves. Unleashing incendiary and Ol spiders, bursts of flame and blinding flashes tearing holes in the confused O'res'la mob. 

Seeing several of the flying O'res'la vehicles, _Deffkoptas_, as Skull-Crusher had called them, Mon J'kaara switched his VFD to it's most intense setting. He unleshed a salvo from his Heavy Burst Cannon, tearing two apart, and sending them spiraling into unsuspecting O'res'la. A third came close to Mon J'kaara, the pilot raising some kind of crude close-combat Claw. Before the machine managed to get close, however, Mon J'kaara blew it apart with the VFD. The final two swooped towards him, churning oily black smoke from the exaughst vents. They both opened up their guns, thousands of high-velocity rounds flying into and around Mon J'kaara, but his suit's Iridium plating stopped the blows from having an effect. 

Mon J'kaara powered forwards, sliding to the side of the _Deffkopta_ and slicing through the propeller with his disruption blades. It spiralled out of control and burst into a cataclysm of fire in a hoard of O'res'la. Watching the carnage, Mon J'kaara didn't notice the other _Deffkopta_ until it was too late. The vehicle smashed into him, alarms flared and Mon J'kaara was sent crashing towards the desert floor. Mon J'kaara managed to level his VFD and touch it to the pilot's exposed head, the shot incinerated it completely. Then he hit the floor, thundering into the sand. 

Red lights flashed in his vision, alarms bleeped continually, the XV9 suit was lying in the sand. Mon J'kaara looked at the damage diagnostic: All systems were damaged but functional, except for the left leg, which had sustained more serious damage, several wires had been severed and the limb would not function without immediate repairs. 

Flicking on the open communications channel, Mon J'kaara spoke hurridly. "All units, this is Shas'Vre Mon J'kaara, my suit is damaged and I need to execute battlefield repairs, if anyone is available, please come to my position, I will need some cover fire."

Then he pressed a button and the front hatch of the XV9 slid open, he clambered out, drawing his pulse pistol and some repair tools. Three O'res'la stood nearby, Two were felled by Mon J'kaara's pulse pistol, but the third came in too fast. The beast swung it's crude club into Mon J'kaara's chest and sent him flying over his prone suit. Scrambling around in the dust, he groped for any kind of weapon. Nothing but sand could be found, which he promptly flung into the beast's eyes, giving him a little time. 
_If anyone received my message, please hurry_ he thought desperately as the O'res'la blinked the sand out of his eyes.


OOC: If anyone want's to come and help is welcome, obviously if not, maybe Destroyerhive will allow some fire warriors to come to my aid or something.


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## Karak The Unfaithful (Feb 13, 2011)

WAAAAGH!

The mighty battle cry of the orks came at the squad, like an unstoppable wind of hatred of death. That combined with the precence of the Gargantuan Squiggoth made it all the more terrible. Any normal warrior may have turned and fled, but these were hardened Shas'vre warriors, none looked back.

he had only every seen one Gargantuan Squiggoth before, many years ago when he was still a shas'la within the ranks of the empire. Despite the terror it had unleashed Vral felt a kind of mutual respect for it. Despite their inferior technology and lack of unity the orks could build some very destructive things.

"All units, this is Shas'Vre Mon J'kaara, my suit is damaged and I need to execute battlefield repairs, if anyone is available, please come to my position, I will need some cover fire."

Vral turned to where he had last seen J'kaara, his suit was damaged, he had climbed out of it hoping to make battlesuit repairs. The orks had seen him exposed and vunrable and began to surge towards it.

He killed two with expert shots of a pulse pistol, but a third ork was moving in for the kill, J'kaara was made weaponless.

Vral wasted not a second longer and used all the speed his suit could muster and went straight for the ork. The creature readied its club for a killing blow...until the jagged blade of Vral's suit came through its back and out of its front. The ork dropped its club and screamed in fury and pain, Vral lifted it through the air and swung his arm backwards and the beast flew of the blade, spilling blood in all directions, and went straight into the carnage.

"J'kaara, make repairs as quickly as possible, we need that thing taken out!"


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

_*"J'kaara, make repairs as quickly as possible, we need that thing taken out!"*_

Mon J'kaara nodded to Vral, running over to his fallen pistol and tools. He holstered the former and readied the latter. Bending over the damaged leg he saw that several main wires had been severed, the damage had crippled the suit, but would be fairly easy to repair. 

He knelt down and began to weld the wiring back together, it had to be done slowly, to avoid a short circuit in the system. He lowered the white hot fusion welder to the wire, linking the two severed ends with practiced deliberation. The distant screams of the O'res'la encouraged him to hurry. After a few tense minuets, J'kaara was finished and tested the battlesuit's leg, checking the readings on the System HUD:

XV9 battlesuit functioning at 78.6% of Optimal Capacity. 

Weapon systems: Fully functional

Hardwired system: Fully functional

Right arm: Fully Functional

Left arm: 98.4% Functional

Right Leg: 89.9% Functional

Left Leg: 67.6% Functional *WARNING: System repairs 
necessary*

Jet pack: Fully Funct-

J'kaara flicked the override switch on the system diagnostics. The leg would function for now, but further repairs would be needed, fairly soon. He didn't want the leg shorting out mid-battle. Right now, however, he had no time. Activating the XV9, he clambered into the control center, the crisis suit becoming an extension of himself. Standing up, he stepped over to Shas'Vre Vral. 

"My thanks, Shas'Vre, I am indebted to you." He said, charging up his weapon systems. Then he smiled. "Now, let's show these O'res'la bastards the true power of the Greater Good!"

Swinging round he brought his Heavy Burst cannon to bear once more, burning away at a group of O'res'la moving forwards. Looking beyond the burning corpses, he was surprised to see the slumped body of the giant beast, the _Squiggoth_. The battle was turning in the favour of the Tau, but the O'res'la were far from beaten. Sending out a stream of holographic images, he moved towards the O'res'la again, his weapons humming vengefully.


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Update 3:


The Scythes of Fury continued pumping fire into the charging mass. When the Squiggoth went down, their efforts doubled as did their morale. With the combined might of the XV9s themselves and the supporting fire of the Tau teams around the Works, the Ork numbers had started to dwindle. Regardless, the Orks were still pushing out, and many of the Firewarrior teams had already dropped their pulse weapons for their knives. “We need to push onward! Wade through the horde and meet me inside the gate!” Skull Crusher announced as he fired his Burst Cannons into a charging Greenskin. As he pressed on, he saw Shas’vre Vral and Shas’vre Mon’ J’kaara fighting off the Ork horde side by side. “Awww, how adorable!” Skull Crusher taunted. The two XV9s looked at him. “Come on, I already told you two to move it to the gates!” “But Commander, J’kaara’s leg isn’t functioning properly!” Vral protested. “Fine. Walk to the gate. I’ll meet you inside!” he laughed as he blasted off on his jetpack.

The other suits were doing the same, leaping through the air, all the while raining hell on the Orks below. Blade-Fisted had even leapt onto a flying Deffkopta, punching out its pilot before leaping once more. The XV9s were inside the facility. Doing a quick headcount, Skull Crusher noted that Undercut and J’kaara hadn’t arrived yet. Continuing to pour fire into the Orks, the two suits finally appeared, trudging towards the gates. “Finally! Did you enjoy your tanna!? Haha!” he laughed, pulling an Ork Nob towards him with the Tractor Gauntlet before filling him with Burst Cannon holes. The Tau don’t make tanna, of course, but the renegades have little rules, and Skull Crusher won’t deny them a hot beverage when they want one.

With all the suits inside, Skull Crusher ordered the team forward. “Our boys will fix your leg later, Black Mirror.” The plan was simple: Skull Crusher would place the explosive charge in the ammunition depot, and blow the place apart. The Warboss will either die in the explosion, or show his face to Skull Crusher’s team as they approach the depot. Either way, the army outside will later invade the factory’s remains to make sure. They walked through the Works, past giant unfinished Stompa models, empty Killa Kan bodies, and some other contraptions he couldn’t quite make out. No sign of any Greenskin though. Perhaps they are all outside fighting the battle. “It’s too quiet in here, Commander” Undercut said. “I agree, but we must press on.”

They finally reached the ammunition depot. Gigantic crates and containers pack with ammo filled the room, as well as artillery the size of Devilfish. “Stay on guard men, I’ll plant the charge.” Skull Crusher announced. The suits surveyed the corridor warily as Skull Crusher placed the charge. “Excellent, we have ten minutes to escape. Move quickly!” A loud whir was heard above them. The suits stopped in their tracks and looked up. It was a giant screen, made from scrap metals. On it was displayed the giant, ugly face of an Ork. “Oi, is dis fing on!?” he howled to his left. “Oi Boss.” The Ork looked once again to the screen. Skull Crusher got a sinking feeling. This was the Ork Warboss, and he was crafty. “’Ello d’ere you stinkin’, yellow-bellied gitz! Dis is Boss Bloodshanka, and dis ‘ere planet is mine! You ‘ave fell into me trap, and now, you’re gonna die.” He said the last sentence in a sinister, quiet voice. At once, clanking and stomping was heard down the corridor in which they entered. Dozens of Killa Kans and the larger, more formidable Deff Dreads were stomping down the hallway towards them. “Well, ‘ave fun now! Oh... an’ you better hurry... time’s runnin’ out! Hahahahaha!” with that, the screen sparked and blew in.

Missions: 
Rrrrr... We have ten minutes to escape, but the Orks aren’t making that easy. Your mission is to get behind the wall of walking metal as soon as you can and run. Run for the exit. Killing all the Orks isn’t our priority here, or we won’t have enough time to escape.
@Undercut: You spot a small group of Ork Lootas taking positions behind some cover. Kill them all before they gun us down. Then get out.
@Black Mirror: Your leg is making it impossible to jump with your jetpack. Find another way around the kan wall. Your illusionary tactics may prove useful.
@Agile Strike: Where the heck did you come from? Punch into the kan wall from behind to help the rest of us to escape.
@Everyone else: Run. Get over the kans and run. Remember that you all have jet packs.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

I dropped from the overflying Orca and began the descent.

Flame burst up around my battlesuit as I fell, kept away from the metal by the energy shield protecting the suit. I flipped so that my feet were facing the ground and activated my jet pack. I landed with a thud and was already moving. I had seen from above the Shas’O’s other bodyguards take down the Squiggoth. I had seen the Killa Kans and Deff Dreads waiting to attack them when they entered. I made my way through the refinery, killing orks as I went. It was remarkably satisfying to have their blood paint the ground around them red.

I came upon the rear of the line of ork walkers waiting to attack the Shas’O and his other bodyguards and it was with relish that I attacked. Plasma missiles melted armour plates and my blades cut through ork made vehicles as if they were made of parchment.

Then I reached the entrance to the area where Skull-Crusher and the others still fought.

I laughed and poured power into the generators feeding the weapons built into my forearms. “I recommend ducking,” I said quietly into the intercom that hovered in front of my face. My arrival was so unexpected that I would not be surprised if they paused in shock at the sound of my familiar, carefree tone despite the desperation of the fight they were in.

The weapons began to hum with energy and I knelt to brace myself. “For the Greater Good,” I shouted and released the energy.

Beams of pure energy erupted from my gauntlets, melting through the Ores’la like a knife cutting through butter. I played the beams across the swarm of machines, watching as crude machine after crude machine exploded. I cut off power to the beams before they drained my suit dry, something that would be certainly fatal in these circumstances. Then, as I straightened a Deaf Dread barrelled into me from the side and knocked me over. I shook in the confines of my battlesuit, only the impact sensitive gel protecting me from death.

I rolled and kicked the Def Dread, sending it staggering back. In a display of agility only possible for a warrior trained in the great academy of Vior’la I flipped my battlesuit back to its feet and activated my plasma blades. A buzz saw came for my head and my left blade cut a huge chunk off it. My right blade severed the limb from the body of the machine. The ork within roared at me. In a moment of childish amusement I boosted my battlesuit’s volume to maximum, dropped my shield for the split second necessary and roared back. The ork fell silent, stupefied by the sheer volume of my roar. I cut the machine open and stabbed him through the heart.

A few more missiles and I had opened up a path through the swarm.

“Shas’O, you have a way out if you wish to take it," I laughed into the mic...


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## Malochai (May 27, 2012)

Blade-Fisted acknowledged Skull-Crusher’s orders and, whilst spooling his burst cannons again, and smiling grimly, set a countdown on his visor screen. Bending his legs slightly, he then jumped and powered his jetpack thrusters, sending himself shooting upwards. _‘This is how we should all live,’_ he thought, before there was an explosion around the outside of his shield, and a sliver of metal flew inside and pierced the webbing beneath his left armpit, which would cause him discomfort when he brought it too close to his side. The sharp pain of red-hot metal caused him to swear again, and brought him back to the present. 

The Killa Kans were still below him, so he decided they should experience some discomfort as well. Fi’d’ron knew full well how much time he had, just over eight minutes, and planned to make full use of it. Fifty feet up in the air, he switched off his thrusters and plummeted earth-wards, turning them on at the last minute to soften his landing, but his suit still threw up warnings - _ALERT: Leg functionality - 72%_ and another 3D view of his suit appeared, stress lines once again superimposed upon it. He winced, hating treating his suit like that, as it was like a second skin. That thought passed through his mind in but a second as he dismissed it, spinning, holding his fist out and shooting with his burst cannons. He then leapt sky-wards, again powering his thrusters, and using his Repulsor to send them staggering back, giving him time to get clear. There were a few clinks as some of the quicker orks began shooting slugs at him, but they made little impact as they were deflected by his shield.

And then he heard Kunas Ka. Momentarily shocked, he then smiled as the plasma beams he now associated with the Shas’Vre took down multiple enemies.

++Good to have you with us, Kunas Ka!++ he said over the comms.

_Warning: 6 minutes_ flashed on his screen. “Damn,” he muttered, hovering above the Killa Kans, his shield deflecting the odd shot. Fi’d’ron then moved off, away from the ammo dump, and came to a rest on the earth behind the Killa Kans and Deff Dreds, sweeping around to shoot one last time. His burst cannons, uncomfortable close to his body, was splayed further was than ideal for the shots, the slight recoil slightly awkward. The Bomblets were propelled towards the unaware backs of the Kans and Dreds, the huge number of minute bombs shattering legs and weapon-armed limbs in a long line of explosions, large, but nothing compared to what would come about in ... He focussed his eyes on the visor countdown - _Warning: 5 minutes_. As his still-standing enemies began to turn towards him, he himself turned and ran, as fast as his suit would allow, dodging past numerous obstacles, incomplete stompas, abandoned Kans and Dreds, along with other vehicles that littered the Works floor. He jumped over a Kan, using his thrusters to boost higher, and then found himself at the gates. Pushing his legs to the limits, putting more pressure on the stress fractures, he sped faster out of the overrun factory, thrusting away towards the line of the Scythes infantry army, a safe distance away.


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

J'kaara hadn't realised how badly the leg was damaged. He had been forced to divert the power from his Jet Pack to make it withstand the XV9's weight for more than a few moments. This was a great inconvenience, Shas'Vre Vral had practicaly escorted him to the fortress. When the O'res'La walkers had entered, J'kaara had already formulated a plan of escape.

One of the lenses on his XV9's 'head' whirred and focused in on one of the walkers, taking in every detail. The plan was only improved when they turned round, distracted by the entrance of Shas'Vre Kunas Ka. 

A light flashed green in J'kaara's display and he let loose a huge torrent of Ol spiders, the light would blind the O'res'la, but the Tau battlesuits's systems would almost instantly regulate their visual sensors, meaning that the flare wouldn't affect their vision With the O'res'la blinded, J'kaara activated the glowing green system and suddenly the shape of the O'res'la vehicle flickered into life around him. His damaged leg helping him achieve the stumbling gait of the O'res'la walker, he lumbered towards their lines, hoping that the barbaric aliens wouldn't notice.

"I am infiltrating the O'res'la, I currently look like one of their primitive walkers. It would be appreciated if you don't blow me apart by mistake, so I'm sending out a short-range radio signal on the open channel." 
This signal would show up like a flare on any tau display, showing him as a non hostile entity.

He stumbled past the enemy, pausing briefly to unleash multiple EMP spiders from behind the O'res'La lines, each little machine burrowing themselves into different parts of three Alien walkers. When he activated the spiders, the three walkers stopped, their arms dropping to their sides. _Easy pickings for the others_ though J'kaara

To his right, J'kaara saw a door, the walls above brimming with defenses, he walked into the doorway and a solitary O'res'la marched up to him. 

*"Oi, you!"* It snarled *"Why aren't you fighting dem greyskinz back over dere like the boss told ya to?"*

J'kaara thought for a moment, then put on his speakers.
"I have no wish to engage the true followers of the Greater Good, especially not in the name of a degenerate parasite such as the beast you call your leader." 
The O'res'la stared at him blankly for a few moments, it's feeble brain desperately trying to process what J'kaara had just said. It never got the chance. J'kaara swung a Disruption Blade through the creature's head, slicing it neatly in half. He then proceeded through the hallways that were lined with crude glyphs, piles of weapons and the scuttling forms of lesser O'res'la. Eventualy he found a stairwell that would lead to the outer walls. Next to it was a Gue'la vehicle lift, which J'kaara stood on. The O'res'la manning the machine pulled a lever and the lift rose, slowly taking J'kaara to his freedom. J'kaara flicked off the holo system, he wouldn't need it now. In his display he checked the time he had remaining. 
Time until detonation: 01 Rai'kor, 04 Dec'taa 
The lift took a full 40 seconds to reach the walls and J'kaara leapt off of the ramparts as soon as he reached them. As he fell he diverted all possible power to the Jet Packs, the resulting thrust blasting him into the air and sending several O'res'la flying away. He reserved just enough power to allow a safe landing, before his suit shut down. 

The emergency failsafes kicked in and the suit began to hail an Orca dropship for evacuation. He watched, waiting for the explosion and praying that the others had escaped.



OOC: Rai'kor = Minuites Dec'taa = seconds


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Update 4:


“Kunas Ka, you dastard! Where’ve you been hiding all this time?” Skull Crusher howled as he leapt over the momentary gap made by the new arrival. He landed next to his Shas’vre, knocking him on the shoulder playfully with his Tractor Gauntlet. “We have to move. Seems like we’re the last ones here.” The Battlesuits ran for the exit, but he didn’t dare look at the time remaining. The kans howled behind them in anger, having let their victims escape.

“RAAAAARGH!” Bloodshanka screamed, as the Stompa Works exploded on the Imperial screens before him. “ ’Ow did dey get out!? Huh!? Me plan was fool-proof! Fool-proof I tell ya!” he yelled, kicking an Imperial chair across the room. “Boss, calm down. Clearly dese Tau aren’t quite wot we fought dey were.” Big Mek Gear ‘ead consoled him. The Warboss grumbled. “Da Boyz are already on dere way. Dey’ll find demselves drownin’ under a tide of green and muscle.”

The Tau army had already started setting up defensive positions for the inevitable Ork assault. Skull Crusher knew the Ork Warboss would attack the renegades directly to stop them from advancing further. The plan was simple. Skull Crusher and his group of XV9s would take an Orca over to their next target point, an abandoned imperial bunker, and check there for the Warboss. He would not be expecting such a small strike force to go looking for him, so he’ll be too caught up in the fight with the army itself that the XC9s would go by relatively unnoticed. At least he hoped...

Before they left, the XV9 Battlesuits were repaired to full capacity and sent into the Orca dropship. The ride was long and silent. Suddenly, the bunker appeared below them, and the pilot informed them of its descent. The Tau exited the Orca and entered the bunker, weapons primed. The large gate was blew in, and Skull Crusher saw that the bunker descended into a dark underground. They descended the staircase. Corpses of Orks littered the ground, dry blood pooled beneath them. Kunas Ka was the first to comment; “Shas’O, what could have done this?” Skull Crusher looked around the room. Stationary weapon placements lay broken and idle, and corpses of Imperial Guardsmen lay littered on the ground with the Orks. He picked up a Guardsman corpse and tossed it to Kunas Ka, who immediately dropped it on the ground. “There’s your suspect.”

From behind Skull Crusher, a lone Ork charged. He immediately spun around and blasted him away with the Tractor Gauntlet, before filling the Ork with Burst Cannon holes. The Ork was wearing a ramshackle, yet suspicious piece of gear...

Missions: 
Ork Kommandos are hiding in the darkness using Stealth Suit technology, and we can’t process them properly. They will be coming from all sides, and in unknown numbers. They wield knives as large as their arm. Defend yourselves! 
@Bloodied: Seems like that Advanced Blacksun Filter may come in useful after all. Why didn’t you warn us of them before! Anyway, find their leading Nob and take him out. He’s the most dangerous one.
@Everyone else: Defend yourselves form the onslaught of Kommandos. They are using Stealth Suit technology on their bodies, making them more resilient and far more stealthy.


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## Malochai (May 27, 2012)

Fi’d’ron had itching to get going again, his blood was up and the flight in the Orca had driven him crazy - such a confined space when he had been filled with adrenalin. Now, however, in the eerily quiet bunker, only the sound of his breathing and the other’s battlesuits moving, he felt only a sense of disquiet and anticipation. _‘This isn’t right,’_ he told himself. Scanning the area around him, he couldn’t see anything - _‘But that means nothing,’_ he reminded himself.

And then a Kommando attacked Skull Crusher. Immediately, his Burst Cannon was spooling and Energy Glove whining with the power he was channeling into it. Movement to his left, visible only in the corner of his eye, caught his attention and he span towards it, weapons ready, and a Kommando launched itself at him, huge, jagged blade arcing down towards the battlesuit’s right arm. With only a fraction of a second to spare, Blade-Fisted got the Energy Glove in a position to intercept it. Despite the impure metal slewing across the sapphire-blue power-shield, he felt the impact, bruising his arm and and causing more stress-lines to appear on the 3D model on his visor. “Damned Orks!” he bellowed, bringing his Burst Cannon to bear. As he did so, he checked the map, looking for other enemies, and saw nothing bar a slight smudge where the Ork was. Burst Cannon ripping into his enemy, he advanced, determined to make sure this Ork had no chance of surviving. Pressing his Glove against the armour, he waited the second it took to melt through the amour before manually using his Bomblet Projector to destroy the body and head. Smiling maliciously, Blade-Fisted then became aware of more combat happening around him and threw himself into it.

His Burst Cannon was tracking a Kommando to his left, whilst he squeezed the head of another in his right fist, letting the skull burn and bubble as the creature battered his arm with its weapon, slicing deep into the iridium until it stuck fast on the third hacking attack, the weapon sliding out of it’s hand as the brain melted and oozed out through the greenskin’s nose. _*Warning - Right arm has sustained damage*_. “You don’t say,” he muttered, growling almost like an Ork himself, and launched back into the attack, peppering the shadows with Cannon fire and Bomblets, the explosions lighting up in the bunker like flares, dwindling when they revealed nothing, or burning the clothes and skin of bellowing Ores’la as they launched forwards to attack him. He found himself in a corridor off the main route, and an Ork, more heavily armoured than the others, lumbered forwards, red-quartz goggles over his eyes and yellow fangs glinting in the fires that still ate away at some of the dead bodies. A power-claw encased it’s right hand, and a pistol was clutched in the other, slugs exploding from the barrel, trailing sparks in the darkness that cast evil shadows onto the walls of the bunker corridor, revealing defaced Imperial symbols and equipment. After five slugs impacted on the shield projected by the drone, causing energy flares to flash incandescently, the pistol clicked hollow and was tossed aside by the hulking menace and a stikkbomb was hastily thrown, flying over Fi’d’ron’s head and exploding in the corridor behind him. Still advancing, another stikkbomb was aimed and cast at him. Locking onto it automatically, the Bomblet Projector sent an explosive to intercept it. Time seemed to slow as they inched towards each other, on an interception course. 

When they did meet, the resulting explosion blew both Blade-Fisted and his greenskin opponent from their feet. His opponent was the first to rise, and took advantage of the Fi’d’ron’s surprise and shock, rushing forwards and climbing on top of him, power fist clicking like a metallic crab. Then a whistle in the air heralded the first shots of the gun drone, burning small craters into the metal of the creatures armour. It grinned menacingly, wafting it’s claw and said, “Hur hur, not gonna ’urt me, no.” It grasped the drone controller with it’s claw, slowly crushing it as the beasts sheer weight held Blade-Fisted down. Mind whirling at a pace that would confound Imperial Xenobiologists, he tried to devise a plan. And then it clicked - his opponents head was positioned above his right shoulder, mouth open in a disgusting grin. Manually, he aimed a bomblet down the wide gullet, lodging in the Ores’las trachea. It stumbled backwards, grasping it’s throat and chocking, gurgling. Still slightly stunned by the first explosion, Blade-Fisted was slow to start backing away, and so only made it a few more metres when the Bomblet exploded. He turned back to look as it did so, and knew as soon as he saw the first sparks it was a mistake. The Orks neck exploded, green blood covering the corridor walls, and bone attacking his shield as the spinal cord disintegrated, showering the surrounding vicinity. And then the other stikkbombs, on the creatures back, belt and hung off the shoulder of it’s ‘armour’, exploded, sending a fireball in both directions. The air around the tau battlesuit dried up in the intense head, and a wave of energy temporarily shorted the systems of his drones, leaving the suit relatively undefended. That same energy forced him backwards, and even cracked part of his visor, leaving him blind to his left. Even some of the sensors on the front of his suit burned out, leaving the already empty on his HUD non-existent to his fore.

“I hate Orks,” he muttered, battered even in the responsive gel of his suits insides, and turned back towards the main section of the bunker, certain in the fact that everything else that had been in the corridor was now a blackened husk, burnt to cinders by the explosive fireball.


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## Santaire (Feb 13, 2011)

I stood in the wreckage and released the blockers on the damage systems I had had in place since before he dropped. Instantly line after line of scrolling text rolled down my HUD

_ALERT: Right leg functionality at 73%

ALERT: Power generators overloading

ALERT: Right arm functionality at 78%

ALERT: Right Plasma Beam Rifle overheating

ALERT:_

I killed the rest of the text and dismissed the image of my battlesuit with stress lines overlaid on every damaged part. “Remind me never to do a drop like that again,” I muttered. I had severely damaged my suit and if I wasn’t careful I would destroy it with his constant near death experiences. Well what could I say, I was addicted to thrills. It was in the blood.

I walked with the rest of the Shas’vre as they moved through the facility.

After Skull Crusher threw the human corpse at me an Ork roared and leapt from the darkness. Skull Crusher pulverised it but more were approaching. I fed power into the plasma rifles and fired in short bolts as if they were just the usual variant. There wasn’t enough power left in the systems to power full beams. Then I looked again and saw a swarm approaching. “What the hell” I cursed and fed what was left of the power into the rifles. In a coruscating blast of energy the plasma was released. It scorched the Orks, burning through them like they were made of parchment.

_WARNINGWARNINGWARNINGWARNINGWARNING_

The text streamed across my HUD, moving too fast for me to decipher anything more than the constant stream of ‘WARNING’. Then the suit went dark. All power was drained. I opened the suit and tore the pulse rifle free of the cradle. My fellows no doubt only wore a pilot uniform and carried a pistol. In my full fire warrior armour and pulse rifle I must have seemed strange but, what the hell, old habits die hard and this one was about to save my life.

I shot a Kommando in the throat with my pulse rifle, kicked a second in the face before burying my bonding knife in its head.

“I need a little help,” I grunted as an Ork leapt at me. I shot him out the air and he fell to the ground, impeding two others. “Suit’s dead and I’m being assaulted by increasing amounts. I can only fire this rifle so fast…”


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## Karak The Unfaithful (Feb 13, 2011)

Vral couldn't get a lock on anything.

The orks, special forces no doubt, were using captured stealth technology to hide themselves, then they would leapt out at the last possible moment.

Why did the Tau have to make such good stealth suits?

Vral scanned the area, ready to unleash fire with his fusion cascade on anything that even _twiched_, he let out a couple of shots in the ground, spraying up concrete and debris.

Then Vral say something out of the cornor of his eye, a glimpse of movement...

and then an ork leapt onto his battlesuit, taking him by surprise he stumbled back, the weight of the large muscle-bound greenskin taking him to the floor. Vral replied with his blade and swept the ork across the room in a spray of blood.

As he was about to stand two more of the beasts appeared out of the air, one met a firey death at the end of his fusion cascade, the second jumped and embedded it's weapon in the battlesuit's armour.

Vral knocked it away and got to his feet, ready for more. Three more orks shimmered into view.


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

J'kaara sent several incendary spiders into the ground, where they drilled themselves into the floor. When they detonated a few seconds later, bits of rubble and dust settled on two of the approaching O'res'la, making them readily available targets for his Heavy Burst Cannon. The aliens were torn apart within seconds.

J'kaara looked around, seeing Vral standing by multiple O'res'la corpses. _He's OK_ thought J'kaara. Then he turned to see Shas'Vre Kunas Ka's XV9 lying on the floor. For one, horrible moment J'kaara thought the veteran was dead, but then he saw a warrior in a Fire warrior plate, blasting away with a pulse rifle. 

*“I need a little help, Suit’s dead and I’m being assaulted by increasing amounts. I can only fire this rifle so fast…”* Came Kunas Ka's voice over the radio.

"Don't worry Shas'Vre, I'm moving to assist." Said J'kaara. He noted that the Shas'Vre was doing exceptionally well by himself, but would still definitely require assisance

J'kaara took several steps forwards, putting his VFD above the Shas'Vre's head, he emmited a burst in it's lowest concentration, bathing several O'res'la in a searing flame. At this level, it would do little more than stall them, but it gave J'kaara a set of clear shots. He unleashed a salvo of plasma from his Heavy Burst Cannon, felling several beasts. They continued forwards, J'kaara swung his Disruption blade into one alien, spraying himself, Kunas Ka and the other O'res'la with viscera. A second jumped up and recieved a high concentration shot from the VFD, enough to burn through Half a Tor'lek of reinforced metal. The O'res'la liquefied, the molten puddle that had once been it's torso splashing to the floor.

The next beast landed on top of J'kaara, stabbing violently with it's knife. At any moment the beast could cut through a vital wire of cable. J'kaara knew it was time for something desperate, he activated his jet pack, hoping that the thrust would push Kunas Ka away, before smashing his shoulder into the ceiling, leaving a cracked dent and splattered O'res'la all over it. He plummeted back down, then checked his XV9's status:

System Report:
XV9 battlesuit functioning at 88.2% of Optimal Capacity. 

Weapon systems: Fully functional

Hardwired system: Fully functional

Right arm: 87.9% Functional

Left arm: Fully Functional

Right Leg: Fully Functional

Left Leg: Fully Functional

Jet pack: 79.8% Functional

View port: 68.7% Functional *Warning: System Repairs Necessary*


J'kaara sighed with relief, nothing major was too badly damaged, he flicked his view system to manual and brought up his proximity alert. He had trained to use his suit without the viewing system and could function almost as well without it.
He swung around, his Heavy Burst Cannon charging up and beginning to spin already, preparing to burn apart any oncoming alien that dared to damage his battlesuit any further.




OOC: Tor'lek = Meter


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## DestroyerHive (Dec 22, 2009)

Update 5:


Skull Crusher fired his Burst Cannons into the darkness before deploying his Razor Drones. The drones zoomed around the room, slicing through bone and sinew wherever they made contact. “Commander, we got the last of them” said the Bloodied, scanning the room. Skull Crusher called back the drones and replied, “Great. Let’s go find that Warboss.”

The Battlesuits advanced into the dark bunker. Something still didn’t feel right, but it wasn’t Kommandos. Corpses of Orks and Guardsmen littered the ground like discarded waste, and something was lurking in the darkness waiting... watching. The others felt it as well, and they had their weapons ready.

A large open gate lay ahead. Beyond the gate was a gigantic expanse filled with the metal forms of Leman Russ battle tanks, and in the center of the room, piled in a great circle, the corpses of many dead Greenskins. At the far end of the room was a large balcony, littered with Imperial Heavy Stubbers, missile launchers, and Autocannons. “Sir, we are approaching the tank hangar,” J’Kaara informed him. “Well no shit” he replied. Skull Crusher was really starting to enjoy the new slang.

“Okay, everyone behind me. I’ll lead.” Skull Crusher informed them. The bodyguard followed behind the commander into the tank hangar. The room was quiet and dark. Blade-Fisted voiced his opinion, “I don’t like this. I feel like we may be walking into a trap.” With that, the blast door fell shut with a clang and huge spotlights centered on the group. A metallic voice boomed over the intercom, and, to Skull Crusher’s regret, made him jump. “Hahaha! Foolish Orks! You’re only six? Ha! We’ve killed hundreds before you arrived! Now feel the might of the Imperium brought down upon you like a hammer onto an infant!” Footsteps echoed across the room from all directions. “We’ve got company...” mumbled Vral.

Guardsmen ran onto the balcony, manning the heavy weapons placements. Some Guardsmen entered the immobile Leman Russ tanks, and still others ran up to take positions behind crates and sandbags. Atop the balcony were four gigantic, beefy guardsmen, and in the middle, a man of authority and prestige, commanding everyone around him.

Missions: 
They think we’re Orks? Whatever. Guardsmen approach from all sides, and while their lasguns may not be very powerful, they are manning tanks and heavy weapons. Stay in the open for more than a second and you’re dead. There’s at least one hundred of them.
@Bloodied: Those heavy weapons up on the balcony will be the end of us! Go up there and take them out! Beware of the Commissar and his retinue of Ogryn though. You may be skilled in the arts of close combat, but those four giants will crush you if you get cornered. The Commissar has a power sword and bolt pistol. You may choose to kill him or not.
@Agile Strike: Assist Blade-Fisted in neutralizing the enemy’s sergeants. Once they’re down, the Guardsmen will lose morale. Look for them in large mobs of Guardsmen.
@Undercut: Assist J’Kaara in defeating the enemy’s Leman Russ battle tanks. They are riddled with weaponry and will blow a hole in anything that gets close, so _be careful!_
@J’Kaara: Assist Undercut in defeating the enemy’s Leman Russ battle tanks. They are riddled with weaponry and will blow a hole in anything that gets close, so _be careful!_
@Blade-Fisted: Assist Agile Strike in neutralizing the enemy’s sergeants. Once they’re down, the Guardsmen will lose morale. Look for them in large mobs of Guardsmen.


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

On Skull-taker's orders, J'kaara launched into action, his Mal'Caor launcher spinning to face the tanks. He was about to launch a salvo of EMP spiders when the crude machine gun the _'heavy bolter'_ as the Gue'la called them, opened up on him, shots tore forwards, striking his legs and chest. J'kaara staggered, trying to rob some of the momentum from the rounds. 

Leveling his VFD, he fired at the tank's main turret, which was twisting to face him. The shot from the VFD blew the turret from it's body. Plumes of fire rocketed from the vehicle. A single Gue'la scurried out of the tank, running away from the certain death that awaited them. Those that did were shot, not by J'kaara, but by the black clad Gue'la officer, the _'Commissar'_. 

J'kaara was so surprised by the seeming disregard for the Gue'la's lives, that he didn't see the leman russ aim it's laser weapon at him. In the last moment he had time to duck, but his XV9's 'head' was blown clean off. Now thourourly irritated, J'kaara didn't even bother to check the system diagnostics, he aimed the VFD for a second time and sent a shot that blasted clean through the armoured hull, melting through it with contemptuous ease. 

A second tank fired it's main turret at J'kaara, forcing him to jump out of the way. He hid behind the destroyed tank. 

"Undercut, bring that machine down!" He shouted, ducked out of the Gue'la gun's sight, hoping that the other Shas'Vre would heed his request.


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