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[Avis-Mergulus]

It has been almost a month since the Barrablancan 16th boarded the battered frigate Saecula Saeculorum at the recently-constructed orbital docks of their homeworld, and people are getting pretty cranky already.

The Tempest-class vessel the regiment is travelling aboard is part of a battlegroup on its way to the Forge World of Angazea to quell the heretical revolt there. Or something. The briefings weren't exactly detailed, mostly due to the fact that the brass themselves don't know a lot. Supposedly, a cult of the Ruinous Powers had flourished among the working population of Angazea, eventually instigating a revolt that saw the ruling machine priests slain.

Be it as it may, Angazea no longer supplies the Imperial forces on the Spinward Front with much-needed materiel, and that simply won't do. A battlegroup of six Imperial Navy ships has been dispatched to deal with the situation. Leading the group is the venerable Vengeance-class Grand Cruiser Judex Ultionis, flanked by the Saecula Saeculorum and the twin Sword-class frigates Dominus Terrae and Luna Sacra. Tucked in among the warships are the two Carrack transports carrying the majority of the Imperial Guard troops for the campaign. The lucky ones, that is, the ones who don't have to live in a cargo bay with four privies per a thousand guardsmen, as well as the close company of some backwoods louts who wouldn't know a parry from a riposte.

So, as I was saying, tempers are running pretty high already. There are four other Guard regiments on board the Saecula, and of all of them, they just had to quarter the Conquistadors next to the Tamerian 27th, the rudest and most unwashed of them. There have already been a couple fistfights and stabbings, but thankfully the battlegroup is on the final leg of its journey through the warp now, and due to emerge into realspace in roughly a day. It is expected that the remnants of the Angazean Space Defence Force won't be able to put up much of a fight, and the Guard forces will quickly make planetfall.

The Barrablancans are billeted in one of the Saecula's cargo bays, a cavernous open space almost half a kilometer in length. Flanking this bay is another identical one, housing the Tamerians. Adjacent to both of them is an even larger hangar containing the vehicles and materiel of both regiments.

Even though the bay was never intended for human habitation, the Barrablancans have made it sort of homely: tents and canvas walls provide privacy, field kitchens exude mostly-appetizing smells, there are even a few larger tents that serve as pubs of sorts. Colonel Macias' command tent is in the center of the makeshift town: the ship's captain graciously offered him a comfortable suite, but he just as graciously declined.

Anyway! You guys are the 5th, or Commissarial, platoon of the Barrablancan 16th Recon, under the expert command of Lieutenant-Commissar Bartolomeu Denos! Well, technically it's more like an oversized squad, but due to the fact that a Lieutenant commanding a squad would run into some chain-of-command problems - squads are subordinated to platoons, and platoons are also commanded by lieutenants (a Sergeant-Commissar is, of course, a wholly ridiculous rank: a commissar and an NCO? Pah.) - plus trouble with vehicle acquisition, it's officially a platoon; the personal retinue of the regimental commissar.

A new day begins, the overhead lights brightening in accordance with the ship's diurnal cycle. The 5th is awoken by the tortured sounds of some bandsman's morning tuba practice in the tent next to theirs.

Spoiler: General map (click to show/hide)

OOC&Signups thread

[Avis-Mergulus]

Spoiler: Sixteenth Barrablancan Conquistador Recon Regiment (Mechanics) (click to show/hide)

World: Feudal World
Cost: 3
Characteristic Modifiers: +3 to two of to Weapon Skill, Strength, or Toughness
Skills: Athletics and Common Lore (War)
Fluency: No automatic Linguistics (Low Gothic)
Fealty (Talents): Can gain Duelist or Double Team
Suspicious of Machine Spirits:  –10 penalty to Common Lore (Tech), Medicae, and Tech-Use Skill Tests unless they are trained in that Skill.
+1 Starting Wound.


Commander: Maverick
Cost: 2
Talent: Resistance (Fear)

Regiment Type: Reconnaissance
Cost: 3
Characteristics: +3 Perception, –3 Willpower
Starting Skills: Awareness
Starting Talents: Combat Sense
Standard Kit: One Chimera Armoured Transport per Squad, and one set of magnoculars per Player Character.

Training Doctrine: Hardened Fighters
Cost: 2
Characteristics: +2 Weapon Skill
Starting Talents: Street Fighting
Knives replaced with swords.

Training Doctrine: Sharpshooters
Cost: 4
Starting Aptitude: Ballistic Skill
Starting Talents: Deadeye Shot

Drawback: Honor Bound
Provided Points: 4
Pride Over Life:  Members of this regiment must pass a Difficult (–10) Willpower Test to refuse any formal challenge or ignore any other major slight to their honour.

Equipment Point Allocation
10 points spent on Best Craftsmanship Swords.
5 points spent on getting M36 Carbines.
15 points spent on getting Light Carapace Armor.
4 points gained from extra Regiment Points.
2 points on Recaf. 2 points on Chrono (POCKET WATCHES).

Spoiler: Kit, for convenience (click to show/hide)

•   One uniform
•   One set of poor weather gear
•   One M36 Laser Gun (Main Weapon), and two charge packs
•   One laspistol, two charge packs.
•   One Best Craftsmanship Sword
•   One Light Carapace Armor
•   One set of magnoculars.
•   One rucksack or sling bag
•   One set of basic tools
•   One mess kit and one water canteen
•   One blanket and one sleep bag
•   One rechargeable lamp pack
•   One grooming kit
•   One set of cognomen tags or equivalent identification
•   One primer or instructional handbook
•   Combat sustenance rations, two weeks’ supply
•   One Chrono
•   Some Recaf

Spoiler: Barrablanca (click to show/hide)

Barrablanca is a somewhat large world out in the middle of the galaxy, with geography very disjointed: multiple settlements were spread across small continents, and once they regressed to a feral state after settlement abruptly stopped, they didn't typically interact with more than one or two other settlements. ...but, when they did, it was usually war. So it went for two millennia, the planet largely ignored as useless. In this time, the planet changed from a Feral planet to what could vaguely be classified as a Feudal planet, though its stalemating and pointless struggles continued.

Then one of the most powerful little nations hit a golden age, and discovered naval craft capable of truly crossing the oceans. This was an amazing boon for said nation, which over the next century traveled around with rapier and musket, conquering small nation after small nation with a rush of conquistadors, until it basically spanned the whole planet. Now very powerful, the nation which now comprised Barrablanca began an upward rise in prosperity and in technology. The Imperium took notice. No longer simply dismissing the planet, the Imperium called upon ancient contracts and bloodlines and found themselves back in control of the planet, even if the local government was basically the same. Leaving the developing planet to its own devices, they merely demanded one thing: tithes.

And with the conquistadors no longer out on the conquista, what was there more perfect to pay the tithes with? Barrablanca provided its seasoned explorers (the conquistadors) to the Imperial Guard, where they were introduced to and wowed by the advanced technology. In very recent years, Barrablanca has been steadily providing these conquistador regiments to the Imperium, specializing typically in reconnaissance and scouting.

Spoiler: Sixteenth Barrablancan Conquistador Recon Regiment (Fluff) (click to show/hide)

The Sixteenth Barrablancan Conquistador Recon Regiment is one of a new wave of Barrablancan regiments being put into the Imperium. Made up of people who were actual conquistadors up until the point they were tithed away to the Imperial Guard, the Sixteenth Conquistador Regiment has combat experience, if perhaps not against xenos and lasweapons. They tended to be excellent shots with their muskets; now they're excellent shots with their lasweapons. They tended to learn and excel at swordsmanship, and so they do now.

Their high level of ostentatiousness and flair has remained completely unchanged. In red and gold colors, the Conquistadors wear carapace armor shaped like a cuirass (and light plate), along with lots of trim and decorations. The conquistadors as a whole are simply too proud for it to be anything else. ...in fact, their pride can lead to sometimes be their downfall, given that any sort of insult has driven many a Barrablancan to die in a duel over an insult.

The regiment itself is relatively new, sent to the Spinward front as a somewhat random gesture from some Munitorum scribe; now they find themselves, with no previous Imperial Guard experience, in the midst of a bloody war. Time will tell how well they do... how long they survive.

The commander, Maximino Macias, is a fearless and proud man, an experienced duelist who has sent many an opponent to the grave. He has all pride in his station (and his former status of conquistador) and his glowing pride and confidence provide a huge morale boost for his troops, even if he is sometimes to proud to recognize a flaw in a plan.

Player Name	Character Name	Role	Status	Hugged	Comrade Name	Status	Hugged	Kills
Khaiel	Ana Belén Montoya de la Rocha	Weapon Specialist	Alive	Yes	Don Diego	Unwounded	Yes	0
Comrade P.	Diego Anna Garruco de Nevillio	Heavy Gunner	Alive	No	P. (Maria Isabella de Nevillio)	Unwounded	No	0
Zomara	Peter Zomara Clan	Ministorum Priest	Alive	No		Unwounded	No	2
Digital Hellhound	Lazáro Ignacio de Viverde	Commissar	Alive	No	N/A	N/A	N/A	0
Caellath	Bartolomeu Denos	Commissar	Alive	No	N/A	N/A	N/A	0
Aseaheru	Marn	Operator	Alive	No	Poise	Unwounded	No	0/1
Powder Miner	Amalia Gutierrez	Sanctioned Psyker	Alive	No	Artho Pak	Unwounded	No	0

Table ^tm of Harb Industries

[Harbingerjm]

Jolting upright and reaching for trusty Friend Lasgun, Amets relaxed slightly on awakening enough to recognise the Sound of Not-Music, regretfully willing away target indicators and ordering Unit 66 to stand down.
"Audio note begin: request transfer to another platoon for incompetent clod next door, audio note end."
Amets sorted the new note into a file of similar notes made each morning throughout the trip so far, and began the morning Rites of Maintenance upon Unit 66 and Amets' gear.

[Comrade P.]

Diego wakes up to the sound of tuba to see the tent's fabric above him. Barely conscious, he puts on the uniform and gear, waking up completely as he does it, so all of his modest possessions are finally gathered like if he was going to somehow set on a journey - just an old habit from the past, not relevant anymore. He walks carefully outside of the tent, trying to leave everyone undisturbed. There he sits by the exit from the tent, right onto the metallic floor and opens Inspirational Primer on a random page for thought of the day.
"Blessed is one who is ever vigilant"

[Digital Hellhound]

Lazáro Ignacio de Viverde lay sprawled on his bunk and offered a quiet prayer for the poor servant of the Emperor torturing the platoon tuba somewhere nearby. The ancient corridors of the Saecula Saeculorum made sounds wander and change - the sounds could have been coming from any part of the regimental area. Whoever the player was, they were trying very hard, at least. Such commitment to the regimental spirit was commendable, of course. Though, he noted, this tune was much closer to the popular marching song The Cadian's Boots, than any hymn of the Ecclesiarchy.

Lazáro rose and got dressed. His position necessited a tent away from the common soldiers, but he appreciated the bit of peace and quiet. He sat down at the cramped metal desk and offered a prayer to the God-Emperor - the most important part of his morning routine.

A few moments later, he rose, stuck on his Commissar's cap and coat, and headed out to oversee the main crew area. Perhaps Commissar Denos would be somewhere nearby. He would learn all he could from the rugged veteran Commissar while serving with him. He hadn't gotten to know the man very well yet - he didn't want to insult the senior Commissar with overt familiarity, after all.

[Avis-Mergulus]

Comissar Dienos----------------------

There's a polite cough outside Commissar Dienos' tent, and a dispatch officer pokes his head in, then enters and salutes smartly.

Lieutenant-Commissar, sir. Communique from captain Terrez.

The note reads:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Commissar,
I wouldn't usually bother you, but this looks like your purview. Three troopers from two platoon are missing. They were witnessed leaving in the direction of the eastern service tunnels last night, so it's probably a disciplinary matter - for all I know, they've gone to bother the Tamerians, Emperor damn them, and got in over their heads. We have to get them back somehow, but bowing and scraping to the hicks doesn't seem like a good option to me. Use your judgement, however.
There's another favor I'd like to ask of you: if you could spare a few men to retrieve a thing for me from storage container 34-I, in the hangar, you'd have my eternal gratitude. It's a sealed box with the numbers 34521 on the lid, pretty heavy - four or so men should do it. Just have them drop it by my tent and stand by. Thank you in advance,
-Terrez

Despite the note's informally polite tone, it's probably safer to assume those are orders.

Everybody else------------------------

Paying absolutely no notice to Diego, a deranged-looking techpriest bursts into the common tent, screeching like an ungreased axle and flailing his mechadendrites like a child throwing a tantrum.

...AMETSSSSSSHH! THEY STOLE IT! SHHOMEBODY STOLE IT! RESPONSIBILITY! SHHHACRILEGEeeeE!...

Enginseer Amets knows the fellow - Lexmechanic Torsen is in charge of maintaining and cataloguing the extensive selection of replacement parts for the vehicles fielded by the regiment. He is known to be unusually obsessive, even for a techpriest. You're probably the only person who could ever stand his constant droning for more than two minutes, so he probably considers you a friend.

Comissar Viverde-----------------------

The cavernous hall is even noisier than usual today: the troops are preparing for combat, some by drilling with their weapons, some by praying, some by getting additionally drunk. Commissar Viverde notices nothing too out of place, so he just watches the whole scene for a few moments.

Hmm. That seems strange. Several troopers, from the 2nd platoon judging by their patches, are wandering down the row of tents, poking their heads into each, asking something, then continuing to the next. They have a worried cast about them, the familiar look of people who know they're already earlobe deep in doo-doo trying to acquire a paddle.

[Comrade P.]

Diego shuts the Inspirational Primer and proceeds to inspecting the autocannon - it is just outside the tent, wrapped in a rag. He has to put some effort in unwrapping it and then setting it on tripod - it is much easier when they do it together with his sister, but he manages to do it alone, though it takes a little longer. He begins basic maintenance, but luckily nothing changed about this cannon since last time he did so. Unhurried work, however, helps him relax a little before the upcoming battle.

[Powder Miner]

Amalia had proven herself amiable enough and surprisingly sane for a psyker over the month she was with the rest of the "platoon"... but she had also proven herself to be exceptionally energetic and overly eager to prove herself to be an honored Conquistador. Combine her multiple mockable traits (being a psyker, young, no conquering experience) and she was one of the most likely to get into fistfight so within the platoon.

Indeed, just last night a particularly hulking Conquistador had called her "not a real Conquistador". Amalia had challenged him to a fistfight in outrage... And, being rather weaker than the burly man, had been walloped.

So when Amalia woke up groaning at the antics of the near-incomprehensible techpriest, it was with a loud groan, hands clutched to her head in a futile attempt to quell a headache, and a black eye. "Nhaaa, stop shouting!"

[Digital Hellhound]

Lazáro studied the curious pack of troopers for a moment. Something had been lost, perhaps? If so, their initiative in finding it was appropriate, but in the end, it was their duty to report any problems they might be facing to their officers. This might be a chance to prove himself to Commissar Denos - and more importantly, make sure the troopers were acting with the best of behavior and morality.

Head down and intercept the troopers. Try to look open and trustworthy. Ask if something's the matter.

(No rolls yet, I imagine.)

[Patrick Hunt]

Walking into the barrablancans camp Tristan looked around for a moment before matching up to Viverde and saluting briefly sending a small trickle of blood running down his own helmet in the process.

" Anything interesting going on Commissar? "

[Caellath]

Commissar Denos was already up and about - drinking recaf and filling out some forms - when he heard the cough outside his tent. He had put forward a request of an individual tent for the platoon's psyker not too long after the trip began, although it was abandoned later for certain reasons; he was keenly aware of the problems someone who was considered a "witch" could find themselves in if the fear of the people around them turned into violence, and that added to Amalia's enthusiasm was certainly a problem. At the very least the squad had displayed enough common sense not to cause any problems involving her, leaving him mostly free to go around smoothing out the small tussles that were always happening between Barrablancans and Tamerians. "Smoothing out" generally involved making sure honor matters would be settled without major bloodshed and also preventing fights from happening when they were based on genuinely stupid motives.

It was a stressful job, much more draining than the assignment he had back at the propaganda sector. There were times he just wanted to throttle someone particularly stupid - an honor which usually belonged to a Tamerian - himself, but he was level-headed and reasonable enough to just keep getting his work done. The fact he actually had experience as a political officer and displayed a remarkable force of personality had assisted him so far. Really, seeing the travel ending without any deaths was as good an ending he could expect and it was also something that grew closer to becoming reality by the moment.

Upon being given the communique, Denos reads it without hurry, raising an eyebrow and frowning. Upon finishing, he dismisses the dispatch officer with a handwave and puts the ornate Commissariat cap upon his head before standing up. After making sure his papers and equipment are in order, he leaves his tent and head towards the troopers' own, where he sees, in order: Commissar Viverde preparing to leave and being intercepted by Tristan, Diego dutifully performing maintenance on his heavy weapon, a screaming tech-priest - Tarson or Torsen? - and finally the rest of the squad waking up inside the tent. "Rise and get ready. His Light shines upon us and we all have work to do." His boots were shining and his black-and-red uniform (with some more gold added to reflect the regimental colors) was pristine as always.

[Patrick Hunt]

" Work sir? We're still aboard the ship. Unless we're about to be invaded by demon spawn I don't see any business for us here. "

[Comrade P.]

Overhearing the conversation, Diego mumbles while cleaning the massive barrel with a ramrod:
- Work doesn't equals fight.

[Digital Hellhound]

Viverde looked the Stormtrooper over before nodding an acknowledgement. He knew little of the man, but if there was anyone one could trust in the great Imperial Guard, it was the ever-loyal Stormtroopers of the Schola. 'We will soon find out, Trooper,' he said, nodding towards the group of troopers.

With or without the man in tow, Lázaro pushed his way towards the soldiers.

[Caellath]

"There is always work to be done." Bartolomeu replies, taking a note that's basically a quick reproduction of the last half of Terrez's memo from his greatcoat's pocket: 'Retrieve a heavy, sealed box with the numbers 34521 on the lid from storage container 34-I, in the hangar. Four or so men. Drop it by Terrez's tent and stand by.' is written in the careful calligraphy of a man used to cursive. "I need at least four men to take care of a favor for Captain Terrez."

The political officer checks inside the tent, noticing the absence of one of the troopers and also the fact the psyker has the face of someone who was in the losing side of a bar brawl. His neutral face is broken as his brow furrows slightly. "Where is trooper Marn and what happened to sanctioned psyker Amalia?"