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 A Scout in the Dark

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Phlegm

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Number of posts : 751
Registration date : 2007-04-26

PostSubject: A Scout in the Dark   Mon 25 Apr - 11:43:05

A Scout in the Dark
Well here I am to be sure, stuck in this man’s army with a lot of god fearing folk noticeably missing on parade. Still, as St Bernard always said ‘Seek ye faith in the places least expected, and joy will you find, for nowhere will you find more reward than when darkness clouds expectation. So it’s a great opportunity is what I have here me laddos and to be sure I’d like to take an opportunity with my sergeant for a start.

The sarge is a fine fiery redhead of a man, and all man I’ll bet. I just know I can melt his hardened heart given the chance to weave my wiles. So apart from Sergeant Rahm there are ten of us in the squad: The girls, Skank and Dotti, our techie Napa and section leader Omar Ibrahim el Shafai, and if you think that name will be passing my lips again any time soon, you’re sore mistaken, I call him Shaff, he calls me Faggott. I like to like of it as an arrangement we can both live with. As St Obidiah says, ‘Let the cynic mock and the hater hate, but pray they repent for the greatest harm is to their souls.’ I do a lot of praying for Shaff and that’s a fact.

The other section includes our medic but I’ll pass over them Saints forgive me, as I choose to dwell on the positive. So here we are nestled on this forsaken place, Euripedes, home of the war against the Hasturians. Now I’ve a lot of time for our feathered friends don’t get me wrong, but I know how tricksy they can be if you ruffle their feathers the wrong way. A good example you might say is the last few years here where they are still trying to make this planet their own despite our dogged defence.
So here we are at Shepherds Haven well away from the front line, but Jokers Company, fopr that’s what we are by the by, we only get sent where the job is toughest, and needs our specialities, whether that’s tek, or shaff’s sniper rifle or whatever. Well now I’ve said that it sounds like a very routine one this time.

We get a briefing that we need to be scouting a compound 50 or more clicks away. Still no control of the skies then, the Hastur have been giving our fleet the run around, not that you’d know it from the official vidcasts. We’ve had so many victories here in the last five years I hardly know what we’re still doing here frankly. Oops, may St Obidiah strike me down for saying such a thing.

So a couple of transports will take us through the woods and we know a little spot where we can set up an obs post, no trouble at all. The Sarge unfortunately will take the other squad and circle round the far side. We head out, Dotti driving but clearly having an off day judging by the roughness of the ride, the crunching of gears and general impression that she’s continually having to swerve obstacles unseen to the rest of us. Saints preserve us, I knew that ‘I brake for Badgers’ sticker was a mistake, she’s obviously taken it to heart bless her.

Well half way there and we come to a screaming stop. I was right in the middle of a catechism aimed at installing some sort of driving ability in mad Dotti. Turns out she may have pulled a result out of the bag. A suspicious depression in the track ahead proves to be an explosive device, innocent troopers for the disposal of with extreme messiness. I offer a quick prayer of thanks to St Trinian, patron saint of women drivers whilst Skank assesses the situation using her god given powers.
She’s not keen on approaching it as a result which does not augure well, literally. Eventually Napa after some consultation gets details on the design and Dotti bless her defuses it with the aid of the saints and her expert skills. Just as we breathe a sigh of relief though a bunch of Hastur appear and charge us, alerted by Shaff’s shouted commands.

Skank is on the heavy machine gun and starts scything them down quite efficiently and with a little help from our friends we finish them all off including the purple feathered psychic. We move out again having commandeered the explosives from the mine, our vehicle now adorned jauntily with the severed head of the enemy psyker affixed to the bonnet. We suffer a burst tyre later on, probably karma, still a third of the distance to go.

Napa’s tyre fixing skills leave alot to be desired and it takes him ages to botch the repair. It’s been a long time, we’re on the very edge of radio contact with base, we’ve broken our transport. Overhead we see the occasional troop carrier descending from orbit, no doubt reinforcing the very garrison we are approaching. If I weren’t a man of unshakeable belief I would almost believe that the saints had deserted us.

We are attacked again unsurprisingly and manage to eliminate another enemy squad without getting into hand to claw combat which is on our ‘Not To Do’ list near the top. On the same list just next to that is ‘Do not drive your warthog into a ditch writing it off and leaving you on foot.’ Dotti duly drives into a ditch and wedges the warthog so securely that it will not be going anywhere without a tow.

Having proved his technical expertise Napa for some reason gets the job of booby trapping the vehicle before we move off. Well, to be sure at least one saint is still with us, at least the one looking after him, as he completely cocks up the job and sets of the explosives turning the APV into so much scrap. He crawls from the wreck smouldering slightly, and not in a good way, and we are attacked by another patrol – can’t think how they found us.

This one gets into hand to claw with us. Skank goes down and Napa is not good having been slightly blown up. Everyone else is injured to some extent if only like myself from Dotti’s driving. I manage to despatch one with my monoblade but it’s a battered group that marches on to our destination. Fortunately Skank’s Lazurus patch is effective but we are hardly a viable fighting force.

I continue to care for the wounded after we reach our destination and dig in monitoring the outpost some five miles away. We note defences, estimate enemy strength, monitor their patrols and transports. There are clearly several hundred personnel in place and we stand wary watches through the night.

An unwelcome sight we are greeted with in the morning: We see the other sections warthog being brought into the compound. It’s damaged and we see several bodies. There are also at least two prisoner: The Sarge and his medic. Given our wounded and the fact that we are outnumbered sixty to one, Shaff makes the cowardly if obvious tactical decision to withdraw. We have gathered the requested intel and at nightfall we fall back heroically taking an evasive route back to HQ without further incident. Maybe the saints were just on a break!

23.4.16

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