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 Rescue 101

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Phlegm

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

PostSubject: Rescue 101   Mon 23 May - 19:36:27

Rescue 101
Hi there Father Claberknack Ablethwaite here again with news from the front if the saints will it. Well here’s a terrible thing to be sure, we have returned to base at Shepherd’s Haven near Belize after losing the cream of Jokers company, Sergeant Rahm and his section in the scouting mission on our Hasturian friends.

Old Omar our favourite homophobe (methinks he doth protest too much) has been promoted Corporal on the back of the disaster where all we discovered was that Dotti our driver is presumably only so named because of her expertise with a golf club, because it sure ain’t from behind the wheel that she’s earned such a title.

Anyway, old corporal Shaff’s got his knickers all in a bundle as he comes away from a briefing meet with the Captain with a data slate straight from old Iron Fist herself, everyone’s favourite blood and guts Lieutenant Colonel. Not even the cap has seen it saints protect him, and you can just see that Shaff’s drooling at the chance for a bit of action and glory for which we will be chief providers to him.

Still the word is good – we are going to rescue the sarge. The saints are giving me another chance at that hunk of manliness. We gear up and resupply with a new warthog for Dotti to wreck. No one seems to know quite how we are pull off this feat but hey, the saints will make sure that something turns up I’m sure.

We are also to obtain any information we can from their data storage systems and sabotage any fliers on the base. To be sure it seems overkill that they are sending the whole five of us. One useful thing we pick up, mine detection equipment, another a haze field. Stealth is sure to be needed if we are to survive this effort and escape with our captured comrades.

Dotti picks up a few missiles with a vague idea that we can use them as a diversion, then we set off. And a wheel drops of our splendid new chariot. An hour later and we are ready to move again. This time Dotti runs down an engineer who foolishly stood behind us when we were due to move forward. She’s great.

We headed back through the woods where we enjoyed so many ambushes only the day before. We narrowly missed at least one mine that we knew about and a lot of trees. We eventually drew up below the ridge from where we had scouted the compound before.

All seemed very quiet in the distant compound but there was a lot of new plant growth in the whole area. As Skank investigated she got sprayed by spores from some of the strange flora and staggered as if assailed mentally. The corporal cleared some away and we thought little more about it, but Dotti later noticed that it was spreading virulently and growing at a rate of feet per hour. We took some samples of the triffid like material for later testing.

We called in to base to report that the compound showed no sign of activity: No guards, no movement, no fliers that we had seen previously; nothing. We were concerned that the garrison might be up to mischief. Skank threw some urine on the plant life which seemed to aggravate it. Napa planted our C4 around our position whilst Shaff watched the base from an arboreal perch for any sign of life.

Shafai was concerned to take a long view and favoured observing through the next day, but it was suggested that perhaps we should approach the compound using the darkness; prisoners’ lives could be at stake. We took the warthog and drove towards the compound, covered by our sniper.

As we approached I noticed something in the unnatural undergrowth. Four giant mutated wild boar burst from cover and rammed the vehicle trying to roll it over. I was thrown out of the passenger compartment and nearly badly gored by one. I fired several shots but missed, one was picked off by Shafai’s sniper rifle, Dotti and Skank did good work on the rest.

We searched the deserted compound securing the compound and put Dotti in one of the machine gun towers on the wall. The stink of rotten flesh greeted us at the central building almost overloading our atmo filters. The mine detector alerted us to explosives around the door and we avoided harm as a result by the mercy of the saints.

The room was packed with corpses and body parts, some of whom we recognised as the remains of the missing section. The sarge also caught my eye, then saints alive, his eyes flickered open. I rushed over to him and pulled bodies off him revealing that the sarge was only half the man he used to be – literally.

He was clearly not long for this world or any other come to that, even his most interesting parts had been ripped off as well as most of his limbs. He whispered to me with his dying strength a warning: A traitor had prepared the Hasturians, if we had not split up unexpectedly the ambush would have been our fate to and our rotting corpses would have already found a place in this charnel house.

He told us to head for Argus to the North, as Belize would by now be under heavy assault. He also warned us about the Queens Guard. We would only know of their approach when they killed us. I gave the Sarge a cigar and then a merciful release, though not the sort I had always dreamed of. I was under the influence of my Adrenal Suppression Pump at the time but I felt bad about it later.

We checked the computers at the base avoiding a further trap and downloaded a great deal of information. Amongst it information about biological weapons used to mutate local life forms in a cycle of escalation that would rage unchecked it seemed.

Which probably explained the vast horde of mutant animals gathering outside the compound. We decided now was the time to leave. We took the dog tags from the sarge and medic, the only ones we could find, but could not dismount the heavy weapons on the transports in the vehicle bays. We knew that heat and noise would attract the animals and the Corp began setting off the C4 charges distracting the horde as we broke out.*

*A particularly effective distraction was to set off the charge once many of the beasts were charging past it.

After the initial traditional stall* it all went well and after one stumble I hauled the NCO aboard as we escaped. We were headed north off the roads, the radio channels clogged with the sounds of distress from Belize. The main road through Bundebuss pass was closed by enemy action so we were looking at a 600km journey to get to our destination by a more circuitous route.

*Need to check your dice have the number 1 on them? Jen will find out with one simple operation. Multiple ones a speciality.

We broke down at one point and whilst Napa was fixing the engine an Eldrakin appeared. A vast troll like creature blessed by no saint that I can name, it lumbered towards us, but fortunately our storm of fire, notably a direct hit from Dotti’s missile launcher took it down, or it might have been bad news for all of us.

I could not help but notice at this point that Napa was engaged in filming events rather than firing. I trust his new role as war correspondent will , .not interfere with his more practical helping us all stay alive related duties. Shafai was somewhat disappointed that the creature’s head was blown clean off, I’m sure he was looking for a new hood ornament for our long suffering carrier. Still you can’t have it all. The creature clearly had acid for blood and we all paused solemnly for a moment to remember Drengi Daemonsbane,*

*Hilariously reduced to a cinder by acid blood whilst slaying a troll in another time, another place.

We resumed our journey and began to get a signal from the town of Kimbra, a key waypoint. At least it still held. We were warned that a bridge ahead was down and in turn warned them of an air attack. I finished the Sarge’s cigar* as we travelled, I felt we were running out of time especially as the engine note was occasionally missing a beat and sputtering.

*I’d wanted to suck on his cigar for a long time.

Behind us in the distance we could see a pack of wolves and another of the fearsome troll monsters that I can’t spell. Ahead of us and still 20 clicks short of Kimbra we found the damaged bridge. No way would we get across the seemingly bottomless ravine in the vehicle. We all breathed a sigh of relief that it was clearly impossible to cross by warthog, as the thought of attempting even a simple reverse round corner with Dotti driving caused much trouser soiling amongst us.

We crossed the rickety suspension bridge accompanied by the sound of mutant animals on both banks and had to fight our way through, the bridge collapsing behind us. Dotti got badly gored by an elk, but we made it to Kimbra by the saints’ grace where we took stock: Still hundreds of kilometres to go, the Hasturians ascendant, vital information for Ironfist in our possession a traitor in the camp somewhere and my numbers on the intergalactic lotto failed to come up again.

Meanwhile a man who might have been the love of my life, dead by my own hand and Napa says Shafai will get star billing in his film. Something to do with his dusky good looks apparently though I don’t see it myself.

21,5,16


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