In the service of the Hutt
En liten fanfic om två st Rodianska prisjägare i Jabba the Hutts tjänst.
The hum of the speeder’s engine was drowned out by the multiple curses spewed forth by the driver. He had been happily minding his own business with the prisoners below the palace when the accursed Gran sent for him. Now he was on his way to clear up some kind of mess one of those little tarts had gotten themselves into. It was above him why the slug had been so utterly stupid as to hire a “clan” as incompetent as theirs, everyone knew that her kind were worthless. If it hadn’t been for the fat one’s rules he would’ve slaughtered them all months ago. The warning to the hutt about their incompetence had been totally ignored. And now, out of all people, HE had to straighten them out. He was the one who issued the warning which was ignored.
After driving across the dunes for approximately half an hour he came up on the meeting point, several tents spread out over a small area. A bantha and four eopies were tied to one of the tentposts. As he drove up to the campsite, he saw something he wasn't expecting. The contacts were on the ground, The nikto had a knife buried between his ribs, smoke trickled towards the cloudless sky from the bodies of the two aqualish. Above them Vinto, another rodian, was standing, putting a new powerpack into his blaster. Koobis turned off the engine and hopped onto the ground, scanning the scene. After a while Koobis finally spoke, their native tongue, as no one else was present. “I see you killed the contacts?” Koobis asked.
“Yeah”, Vinto answered neutrally in rodese, looking up from his blaster. Koobis prodded one of the smoking bodies with a steel-shod boot before kneeling down, to look through its pockets. “I see you looted them too..” Koobis said, turning an empty pouch upside down.
“Yeah”, Vinto answered in the same tone, still playing with his blaster. A few silent minutes passed, Vinto was admiring the gleam of the two suns in his black blaster and Koobis was still looking for scraps left on the bodies, When in unison 4 sensors turned towards the opening of one of the tents, a reddish pavilion. A split-second later a trandoshan came rushing out, firing his blaster. The trandoshan was still firing wildly as he went down, hit three times by Vinto before Koobis had gotten his blaster out.
The two hunters slowly walked forward firing into the twitching body until they had both emptired their blasters. “Jactna! I thought you secured the area” Koobis swore. “He wasnt there when I came!” Vinto grunted defensively. “Well, anyway, Jabba wants us to sort out some problems in Mos Entha, so get into the speeder” Koobis paused for a moment, then continued as he was looking through the trandoshan’s clothing “One of those clan Ikeeh fools has botched a job”.
“Uh..I can’t leave my eopie here” Vinto complained, turning towards the mounts while reloading his blaster. A moment later the tied animals bawled in terror and pain, desperately trying to get away from the tents; and from Koobis. Koobis was laughing, as he fired his newly reloaded blaster at the helpless creatures. For a moment Vinto was laughing too, until it struck him that Koobis was actually killing his eopie.
A weak “Hey...” was all he managed to say, before he grudgingly accepted what had happened. “Its not a problem anymore, now is it? Get into the speeder” Koobis commanded. Vinto let out a quick sigh, before he walked over to the dead eopie and begun unstrapping his belongings from the saddle, a leather bag and a long rifle. He threw them in the back of the speeder when Koobis caught his attention again. “Dont forget this!”, Koobis threw him his knife. Koobis pulled out a bag filled to the brim with powerpacks from below the drivers seat of the speeder. “So.. why did you blast the contacts anyway?” Koobis wondered, casually restocking his bandolier with power packs. “I’ll tell you later” Vinto responded, chewing on a gorg bun from the leather bag. A few minutes later, both the rodians were on their way towards Mos Entha city. Leaving the scene behind, the air still heavy with the smell of burned flesh and expended tibanna gas.
The hum of the speeder’s engine was drowned out by the multiple curses spewed forth by the driver. He had been happily minding his own business with the prisoners below the palace when the accursed Gran sent for him. Now he was on his way to clear up some kind of mess one of those little tarts had gotten themselves into. It was above him why the slug had been so utterly stupid as to hire a “clan” as incompetent as theirs, everyone knew that her kind were worthless. If it hadn’t been for the fat one’s rules he would’ve slaughtered them all months ago. The warning to the hutt about their incompetence had been totally ignored. And now, out of all people, HE had to straighten them out. He was the one who issued the warning which was ignored.
After driving across the dunes for approximately half an hour he came up on the meeting point, several tents spread out over a small area. A bantha and four eopies were tied to one of the tentposts. As he drove up to the campsite, he saw something he wasn't expecting. The contacts were on the ground, The nikto had a knife buried between his ribs, smoke trickled towards the cloudless sky from the bodies of the two aqualish. Above them Vinto, another rodian, was standing, putting a new powerpack into his blaster. Koobis turned off the engine and hopped onto the ground, scanning the scene. After a while Koobis finally spoke, their native tongue, as no one else was present. “I see you killed the contacts?” Koobis asked.
“Yeah”, Vinto answered neutrally in rodese, looking up from his blaster. Koobis prodded one of the smoking bodies with a steel-shod boot before kneeling down, to look through its pockets. “I see you looted them too..” Koobis said, turning an empty pouch upside down.
“Yeah”, Vinto answered in the same tone, still playing with his blaster. A few silent minutes passed, Vinto was admiring the gleam of the two suns in his black blaster and Koobis was still looking for scraps left on the bodies, When in unison 4 sensors turned towards the opening of one of the tents, a reddish pavilion. A split-second later a trandoshan came rushing out, firing his blaster. The trandoshan was still firing wildly as he went down, hit three times by Vinto before Koobis had gotten his blaster out.
The two hunters slowly walked forward firing into the twitching body until they had both emptired their blasters. “Jactna! I thought you secured the area” Koobis swore. “He wasnt there when I came!” Vinto grunted defensively. “Well, anyway, Jabba wants us to sort out some problems in Mos Entha, so get into the speeder” Koobis paused for a moment, then continued as he was looking through the trandoshan’s clothing “One of those clan Ikeeh fools has botched a job”.
“Uh..I can’t leave my eopie here” Vinto complained, turning towards the mounts while reloading his blaster. A moment later the tied animals bawled in terror and pain, desperately trying to get away from the tents; and from Koobis. Koobis was laughing, as he fired his newly reloaded blaster at the helpless creatures. For a moment Vinto was laughing too, until it struck him that Koobis was actually killing his eopie.
A weak “Hey...” was all he managed to say, before he grudgingly accepted what had happened. “Its not a problem anymore, now is it? Get into the speeder” Koobis commanded. Vinto let out a quick sigh, before he walked over to the dead eopie and begun unstrapping his belongings from the saddle, a leather bag and a long rifle. He threw them in the back of the speeder when Koobis caught his attention again. “Dont forget this!”, Koobis threw him his knife. Koobis pulled out a bag filled to the brim with powerpacks from below the drivers seat of the speeder. “So.. why did you blast the contacts anyway?” Koobis wondered, casually restocking his bandolier with power packs. “I’ll tell you later” Vinto responded, chewing on a gorg bun from the leather bag. A few minutes later, both the rodians were on their way towards Mos Entha city. Leaving the scene behind, the air still heavy with the smell of burned flesh and expended tibanna gas.
The declining Tolagâl empire
En liten hyllning till något av det roligaste jag någonsin haft i ett onlinespel (UO), vi spelade Orcher baserade på Tolkien.
Two shapes were squatting around a dying fire in the small cavern, one of them casually stirring a cauldron. Further away,sitting in a corner was another shape, slowly carving a piece of wood with a dagger. Apart from the bubbling of the cauldron and the sound of iron against wood all was quiet in the cavern. One of the squatting shapes was the first to break the silence, it turned towards the one in the corner.. - “ ’ey Hognak you slugsniffer, whatcha’ doing there? ” it hollered. Hognak slowly looked up, the embers from the fire glinting briefly in his fangs as he replied - “ Mind yer own business, worm.. ” he hissed. - “ An’ when’s the throku done? ” - “ You juss be patient, I’m trying a new recipe..and it takes time to get it good yeh. “ the third shape replied. “I learned it from ‘im tark we had ‘ere.. ” he paused for a moments, then continued - “ ’Efore we ate ‘im that is.. ”. All three of them burst out into laughter.
The laugh came to an abrupt stop however, as shouts, cheering and the clash of steel made its way into the chamber from further down the tunnels. The shapes looked towards the entrance to the chamber for a few moments, then returned to their activities, this was obviously not something out of the ordinary. - “ Well, za shum Burzflauth is gonna get myself some rest ‘efore dinner’s done “ one of them muttered. He rose to his feet and leapt over the cauldron, landing next to some furs on the cavern floor. - “Bardush ye bloody maggot! ye could’ve gotten dirt in mah stew...ye could even have knocked it over..” said the third shape, once again stirring the cauldron. - “Hoshat, skai rof-snoshatar!” Bardush shouted, then he stretched to his full height, almost reaching six feet. He was large, unusually large for one of his unit, for one of his breed. He could not retain this stance for long though, soon his back and his twisted legs sunk back into their usual crooked posture He unstrapped his belt with his clawed fingers and let it slip down to the floor, he then sank down on the furs, opening up his black leather vest. He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes.
They were part of the Burzsnuti. A specially trained unit of scouts and assassins. Whether rooting out and murdering would-be rebels within their own ranks, or cutting of supply lines from the enemy, they were a useful tool, often employed by their dark master. A shout woke Bardush, not a shout from further down the tunnels as before, but from this very chamber. He jerked into a sitting position and looked to the figure standing in the cavern entrance. A little over five feet tall, he was clad in black mail and wearing a black surcoat, sporting two bloodred crossed sabres. He had an elongated snout, ending in two tusks, one of them broken. One of his bloodshot eyes was almost swollen together, black blood trickling down the goblin’s face. They all knew him well, it was Zukhat a minor officer of the Garmogatz ushatari rogtar regiment, the unit deployed just below the surface, manning the great gates of the Tolagâl undercity. He had led the three scouts on a mission to the surface to inspect the state of things up there, a dreaded task, as everyone knew that the surface operations had long since collapsed. The tyrant below the mountain had appointed his useless halfbreed son Magrekh as the commander of the surface operations. It was under his watch it had deteriorated until only a handful of goblins remained above ground. They had returned together, but when they were about to enter the throne room to present their reports, the three scouts had slipped away, leaving Zukhat to deliver the bad news alone, And to be beaten by the great fighting uruks of the King’s hoerk for delivering bad news alone. He was a cunning and lucky orc, several times had he escaped situations where he should have been dead, Bardush had hoped to be rid of him once and for all, but yet again Zukhat had gotten away with his life intact, and he was furious. - “YOU ROTTEN MAGGOTS!” Zukhat screamed into the chamber. In a few seconds he had bounded over to the cauldron and kicked it over, spilling its boiling contents over the cooks legs. The smaller orc rolled backwards and onto his legs, uttering a low snarl before throwing himself upon Zukhat with a black blade in his hand. The two uruks tumbled to the floor, punching, kicking, biting and stabbing eachother ferociously. After a few moments the jumble of limbs on the floor stopped moving. Hognak rose and walked over to the combatants and inspected them. Suddenly, Zukhat lunged up towards him with the bloodied black knife in his hand, he was quickly stopped by an ironshod boot to the gut, sending him back into a sitting position. Hognak went to the cauldron and turned it up again, trying to save the little stew that was left. Zukhat himself got on his feet, stabbed the small orc a few times more to make sure he was dead, then brushed himself off.
With his lust for blood and vengeance satuated, Zukhat got down to the business at hand. - “Zagira you cowards, get that throku down and get yer equipment, we’ve got new orders” Bardush walked over to the firepit and joined Hognak in eating the little stew that was left, while Zukhat recited what had occured in the Ashdurbûk’s chamber, naturally leaving out the humiliating beating, everyone knew it had occured regardless. After they had finished the food the trio prepared themselves. Bardush and Hognak strapping their quivers on and slinging their bows over their backs. Hognak took a small spear leaning against the wall, while Bardush fastened a hatchet and sabre to his belt, Zukhat retrieved his great halberd from the cave entrance. Together they walked through the winding tunnels that made up the Tolagâl undercity, First passing by a multitude of slaves toiling away at the walls of the mine endlessly. Then past za shum farki, the great forges were the orcish craftsmen made tools, weapons and instruments of torture. Past the spawn chambers, where Bardush sent a few straggling toddlers back into their pens with a few well-placed kicks. More slaves, operating the elevator that led down into the fungi cave, the main source of food for the underground city. After some 10 minutes of walking they reached the black stairways that led to the gates of Tolagâl. A great cave opened up before them, at least 60 feet high and five times as long. In the center of the cave stood a great wooden pallisade with a huge gate in the center. Scattered around the cavern was the Garmogatz Ushatari Rogtar regiment, blackclad orc soldiers lazing about around campfires or manning the walls, some of them leaning on the gates to the warg pen, great beasts they had brought with them through the portal so many years ago, they were not pure wargs anymore, as the orcs had been forced to breed them with the great wolves of Sosaria to maintain their numbers. The trio reached the gate and Zukhat looked up onto the parapets of the wall then shouted - “Shmarrkharagh, Get down ‘ere and open the gate” A swart face half-covered by a helmet shot out over the battlements and looked down upon them. - “I ain’t opening no gate until I see some orders, you cesspit” The uruk shouted - “I’ve got ‘em right’ere” Zukhat shouted back. - “Yer’ll have ta come up with ‘em” Shmarkharragh replied. The two orcs continued to argue for a while, but in the end Zukhat gave in and climbed up the crude wooden ladder. A few moments later both of them came down. Shmarkharragh shouted out an order and some of the soldiers removed the bars from the gate. The gatekeeper then proceeded to unlock the great gates with a bronze key, letting the three orcs out. The shouts of Shmarrkharagh echoed behind them as they proceeded the last bit through the tunnel “Hope yer all die out there, so I won’t need to spy yer ugly snouts again”.
The three orcs covered their eyes, as the light of the sun burned down upon them, the area around the cave entrance had been cleared of trees for defensive purposes, the thick canopy of the Tolagâl valley did not begin for yet another 100 feet. They hurried towards the treeline, and soon the shade of the trees protected them from the accursed sun. Hognak let out a sigh as he let his gaze sweep through the forest, in the distance he could make out the watchtowers and the great stone citadel that had once been teeming with excercising uruks. Their shouts had echoed across the valley, now only a smattering of goblins could be seen in the distance and none could be heard. The paths of the valley that had once served as supply routes overgrown with shrubs, the gouts of black smoke from the forge no longer there. The three orcs made their way towards the stone citadel in silence, as if paying homage to the once great events that had transpired in the valley. There was a lot to be done.
Two shapes were squatting around a dying fire in the small cavern, one of them casually stirring a cauldron. Further away,sitting in a corner was another shape, slowly carving a piece of wood with a dagger. Apart from the bubbling of the cauldron and the sound of iron against wood all was quiet in the cavern. One of the squatting shapes was the first to break the silence, it turned towards the one in the corner.. - “ ’ey Hognak you slugsniffer, whatcha’ doing there? ” it hollered. Hognak slowly looked up, the embers from the fire glinting briefly in his fangs as he replied - “ Mind yer own business, worm.. ” he hissed. - “ An’ when’s the throku done? ” - “ You juss be patient, I’m trying a new recipe..and it takes time to get it good yeh. “ the third shape replied. “I learned it from ‘im tark we had ‘ere.. ” he paused for a moments, then continued - “ ’Efore we ate ‘im that is.. ”. All three of them burst out into laughter.
The laugh came to an abrupt stop however, as shouts, cheering and the clash of steel made its way into the chamber from further down the tunnels. The shapes looked towards the entrance to the chamber for a few moments, then returned to their activities, this was obviously not something out of the ordinary. - “ Well, za shum Burzflauth is gonna get myself some rest ‘efore dinner’s done “ one of them muttered. He rose to his feet and leapt over the cauldron, landing next to some furs on the cavern floor. - “Bardush ye bloody maggot! ye could’ve gotten dirt in mah stew...ye could even have knocked it over..” said the third shape, once again stirring the cauldron. - “Hoshat, skai rof-snoshatar!” Bardush shouted, then he stretched to his full height, almost reaching six feet. He was large, unusually large for one of his unit, for one of his breed. He could not retain this stance for long though, soon his back and his twisted legs sunk back into their usual crooked posture He unstrapped his belt with his clawed fingers and let it slip down to the floor, he then sank down on the furs, opening up his black leather vest. He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes.
They were part of the Burzsnuti. A specially trained unit of scouts and assassins. Whether rooting out and murdering would-be rebels within their own ranks, or cutting of supply lines from the enemy, they were a useful tool, often employed by their dark master. A shout woke Bardush, not a shout from further down the tunnels as before, but from this very chamber. He jerked into a sitting position and looked to the figure standing in the cavern entrance. A little over five feet tall, he was clad in black mail and wearing a black surcoat, sporting two bloodred crossed sabres. He had an elongated snout, ending in two tusks, one of them broken. One of his bloodshot eyes was almost swollen together, black blood trickling down the goblin’s face. They all knew him well, it was Zukhat a minor officer of the Garmogatz ushatari rogtar regiment, the unit deployed just below the surface, manning the great gates of the Tolagâl undercity. He had led the three scouts on a mission to the surface to inspect the state of things up there, a dreaded task, as everyone knew that the surface operations had long since collapsed. The tyrant below the mountain had appointed his useless halfbreed son Magrekh as the commander of the surface operations. It was under his watch it had deteriorated until only a handful of goblins remained above ground. They had returned together, but when they were about to enter the throne room to present their reports, the three scouts had slipped away, leaving Zukhat to deliver the bad news alone, And to be beaten by the great fighting uruks of the King’s hoerk for delivering bad news alone. He was a cunning and lucky orc, several times had he escaped situations where he should have been dead, Bardush had hoped to be rid of him once and for all, but yet again Zukhat had gotten away with his life intact, and he was furious. - “YOU ROTTEN MAGGOTS!” Zukhat screamed into the chamber. In a few seconds he had bounded over to the cauldron and kicked it over, spilling its boiling contents over the cooks legs. The smaller orc rolled backwards and onto his legs, uttering a low snarl before throwing himself upon Zukhat with a black blade in his hand. The two uruks tumbled to the floor, punching, kicking, biting and stabbing eachother ferociously. After a few moments the jumble of limbs on the floor stopped moving. Hognak rose and walked over to the combatants and inspected them. Suddenly, Zukhat lunged up towards him with the bloodied black knife in his hand, he was quickly stopped by an ironshod boot to the gut, sending him back into a sitting position. Hognak went to the cauldron and turned it up again, trying to save the little stew that was left. Zukhat himself got on his feet, stabbed the small orc a few times more to make sure he was dead, then brushed himself off.
With his lust for blood and vengeance satuated, Zukhat got down to the business at hand. - “Zagira you cowards, get that throku down and get yer equipment, we’ve got new orders” Bardush walked over to the firepit and joined Hognak in eating the little stew that was left, while Zukhat recited what had occured in the Ashdurbûk’s chamber, naturally leaving out the humiliating beating, everyone knew it had occured regardless. After they had finished the food the trio prepared themselves. Bardush and Hognak strapping their quivers on and slinging their bows over their backs. Hognak took a small spear leaning against the wall, while Bardush fastened a hatchet and sabre to his belt, Zukhat retrieved his great halberd from the cave entrance. Together they walked through the winding tunnels that made up the Tolagâl undercity, First passing by a multitude of slaves toiling away at the walls of the mine endlessly. Then past za shum farki, the great forges were the orcish craftsmen made tools, weapons and instruments of torture. Past the spawn chambers, where Bardush sent a few straggling toddlers back into their pens with a few well-placed kicks. More slaves, operating the elevator that led down into the fungi cave, the main source of food for the underground city. After some 10 minutes of walking they reached the black stairways that led to the gates of Tolagâl. A great cave opened up before them, at least 60 feet high and five times as long. In the center of the cave stood a great wooden pallisade with a huge gate in the center. Scattered around the cavern was the Garmogatz Ushatari Rogtar regiment, blackclad orc soldiers lazing about around campfires or manning the walls, some of them leaning on the gates to the warg pen, great beasts they had brought with them through the portal so many years ago, they were not pure wargs anymore, as the orcs had been forced to breed them with the great wolves of Sosaria to maintain their numbers. The trio reached the gate and Zukhat looked up onto the parapets of the wall then shouted - “Shmarrkharagh, Get down ‘ere and open the gate” A swart face half-covered by a helmet shot out over the battlements and looked down upon them. - “I ain’t opening no gate until I see some orders, you cesspit” The uruk shouted - “I’ve got ‘em right’ere” Zukhat shouted back. - “Yer’ll have ta come up with ‘em” Shmarkharragh replied. The two orcs continued to argue for a while, but in the end Zukhat gave in and climbed up the crude wooden ladder. A few moments later both of them came down. Shmarkharragh shouted out an order and some of the soldiers removed the bars from the gate. The gatekeeper then proceeded to unlock the great gates with a bronze key, letting the three orcs out. The shouts of Shmarrkharagh echoed behind them as they proceeded the last bit through the tunnel “Hope yer all die out there, so I won’t need to spy yer ugly snouts again”.
The three orcs covered their eyes, as the light of the sun burned down upon them, the area around the cave entrance had been cleared of trees for defensive purposes, the thick canopy of the Tolagâl valley did not begin for yet another 100 feet. They hurried towards the treeline, and soon the shade of the trees protected them from the accursed sun. Hognak let out a sigh as he let his gaze sweep through the forest, in the distance he could make out the watchtowers and the great stone citadel that had once been teeming with excercising uruks. Their shouts had echoed across the valley, now only a smattering of goblins could be seen in the distance and none could be heard. The paths of the valley that had once served as supply routes overgrown with shrubs, the gouts of black smoke from the forge no longer there. The three orcs made their way towards the stone citadel in silence, as if paying homage to the once great events that had transpired in the valley. There was a lot to be done.
The hulk "Calixis Damnation" (Tech Priest background)
Bakgrund till "Jakes", Tech Priest i WH40K: Dark Heresy
Explosions, gunfire and the sounds of speeding vehicles rocked the abandoned corridors. Two vehicles sped through the ships corridors, the first one and old, weathered APC, behind it some sort of buggy manned by big, green bipeds with tusked faces. The buggy's occupants were armed to the teeth will all kinds of archaic weapons, as well as a mounted assault cannon. The APC seemed well controlled, balancing out the poor state it was in, managing sharp turns in and out of criss-crossing corridors. The buggy was less well controlled, but sturdy nonethless as it skipped into walls and simply rammed through obstacles in the corridors, guns blazing all the while. The hooded figure in the cramped cockpit of the APC cringed everytime his APC was hit by the Orcs firepower. Eventually the corridors turned into a dead end with a massive door at the end, the APC hit the breaks hard as the doors began to open. The vehicle finally managed to skid to a halt, on a ramp outside the door, The ramp abruptly ended just beyond the door. "NOW" the hooded figure cried into the comm unit in the Cockpit.
The doors in the back of the the APC flew open, the first few occupants cut down by a hail of bullets. Two men jumped out and begun fiddling with something on the ground, below the APC, managing to just about avoid the rain of fire laid down upon them by the still speeding buggy. On a ramp further up in the shafts, several other men finished tying themselves with ropes to the wall. almost at the same moment, explosions rocked the shaft in both sites, a device on the wall further up exploded in a cascade of blue flames, while the charges below the APC detonated, a loud scream issued forth from inside the APC, muffled by the metal chassis of the vehicle. Then slowly, but surely the APC was propelled upwards by the force of the explosions, drifting through the shaft. The Orc buggy which was just about to ram the APC down into nothingness instead found it careening through empty space, into the other side of shaft. Most of the occupants found themselves knocked off by the impact, then meeting their cold graves as the men above began firing their weapons down upon them, if not for the straps the recoil would've sent them hurtling upwards at amazing speeds.
With long hooks the men up the shaft managed to drag the APC into the entrance further up, the men and women of the Iacta had water for another week.
In the dank hangar of the Iacta, Jakes clambered out of the badly bruised APC, bleeding from the several interface connectors in his skull, as well as from his eyes. He cursed the poor state of his equipment, equipment which had been handed down to him from his father, applied through crude surgery as his father died, he'd been in the service of the Omnissiah since his 8th birthday. He had known nothing besides the cold corridors of the Iacta and the other ships of the hulk, just like generations before him. His people had been trapped in the hulk for centuries, and would be so for eternity as far as he knew, although an offshot of the imperial cult aboard preached that salvation was near. This gave rise to several inquisitorial skirmishes aboard, but this did not bother the members of the cult mechanicus much, they served the Omnissiah and had no interest in the squabbles of the main cult.
Explosions, gunfire and the sounds of speeding vehicles rocked the abandoned corridors. Two vehicles sped through the ships corridors, the first one and old, weathered APC, behind it some sort of buggy manned by big, green bipeds with tusked faces. The buggy's occupants were armed to the teeth will all kinds of archaic weapons, as well as a mounted assault cannon. The APC seemed well controlled, balancing out the poor state it was in, managing sharp turns in and out of criss-crossing corridors. The buggy was less well controlled, but sturdy nonethless as it skipped into walls and simply rammed through obstacles in the corridors, guns blazing all the while. The hooded figure in the cramped cockpit of the APC cringed everytime his APC was hit by the Orcs firepower. Eventually the corridors turned into a dead end with a massive door at the end, the APC hit the breaks hard as the doors began to open. The vehicle finally managed to skid to a halt, on a ramp outside the door, The ramp abruptly ended just beyond the door. "NOW" the hooded figure cried into the comm unit in the Cockpit.
The doors in the back of the the APC flew open, the first few occupants cut down by a hail of bullets. Two men jumped out and begun fiddling with something on the ground, below the APC, managing to just about avoid the rain of fire laid down upon them by the still speeding buggy. On a ramp further up in the shafts, several other men finished tying themselves with ropes to the wall. almost at the same moment, explosions rocked the shaft in both sites, a device on the wall further up exploded in a cascade of blue flames, while the charges below the APC detonated, a loud scream issued forth from inside the APC, muffled by the metal chassis of the vehicle. Then slowly, but surely the APC was propelled upwards by the force of the explosions, drifting through the shaft. The Orc buggy which was just about to ram the APC down into nothingness instead found it careening through empty space, into the other side of shaft. Most of the occupants found themselves knocked off by the impact, then meeting their cold graves as the men above began firing their weapons down upon them, if not for the straps the recoil would've sent them hurtling upwards at amazing speeds.
With long hooks the men up the shaft managed to drag the APC into the entrance further up, the men and women of the Iacta had water for another week.
In the dank hangar of the Iacta, Jakes clambered out of the badly bruised APC, bleeding from the several interface connectors in his skull, as well as from his eyes. He cursed the poor state of his equipment, equipment which had been handed down to him from his father, applied through crude surgery as his father died, he'd been in the service of the Omnissiah since his 8th birthday. He had known nothing besides the cold corridors of the Iacta and the other ships of the hulk, just like generations before him. His people had been trapped in the hulk for centuries, and would be so for eternity as far as he knew, although an offshot of the imperial cult aboard preached that salvation was near. This gave rise to several inquisitorial skirmishes aboard, but this did not bother the members of the cult mechanicus much, they served the Omnissiah and had no interest in the squabbles of the main cult.
