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[Aseaheru]

Look around for a firearm.

[Patrick Hunt]

Initiative.
1d10+3=11, 1d10+3=10

Result 11.

Shooting.
Called shot, targetting head.
1d100=28

BS 45
-10 called shot.  ( Deadeye. )
+30 point blank.
+10 hulking.
= Target 75.

Roll is a 28

Result headshot 4 degrees of success.

Damage.
1d10+4=11

Damage = 11

[Powder Miner]

Tamerians. "Emperor dammit... seriously?" This was basically hostile action, though, and far beyond usual behavior... what was going on?! Oh well, the Commissar would find out. For now, she just had to help him catch the scoundrels! Sheathing her sword for now, Amalia instead pulled out her lasgun, taking off her amulet and holding it in her non-trigger hand as she continued to run.
Put away the sword, take out the M36 lasgun instead, and fire at a Tamerian who hasn't stopped moving!

[Gamerlord]

Emil wakes up and pokes his head outside the tent to take a look around.

((Damnit, I was idle because I though nothing important was going on!))

[Andres]

((Hi, I've just been reading so far and then I read Powder Miner's latest post. Is it ok in the 40k universe to say the Emperor's name in vain?)

[Avis-Mergulus]

((Hi, I've just been reading so far and then I read Powder Miner's latest post. Is it ok in the 40k universe to say the Emperor's name in vain?)

((Yeah, if no Ecclesiarch hears you, and even then you'll probably survive.))

Emil wakes up and pokes his head outside the tent to take a look around.

((Damnit, I was idle because I though nothing important was going on!))

((I figured. Well, I'll find you something to do when I get home- I'm on mobile now.))

[Harbingerjm]

You quickly scramble down to the first floor and the access hatch. Through it you can see four men in drab khakis scrambling away down the aisle. They'll turn round the corner in ten seconds or so, and then you'll have to look for them in the labyrinth of containers.

As Amets raised trusty Friend Lasgun to aim at the fleeing fools who had dared to damage Imperial property and attack a representative of the Mechanicus, several other actions that were not as obvious to outsiders were carried out.
The first was Amets' Memorance Implant prioritising application of their (somewhat limited) data processing to data capture of details about the fleeing likely-Heretics, for later analysis and identification purposes if they (as seemed likely) managed to escape intact.
The second was a slight increase in heat dispersion from the Techpriest's head, as the activity level of the implanted augmentations increased, outputting calculations of firing angles, damage estimations, response speculations and cost/benefit analyses. Crude by the standards of the Mechanicus, but enough to drastically increase the effectiveness of a low-ranking Techpriest from a backwater world who had spent a fairly lengthy military career missing virtually every shot taken.
The third was a simple code blurt, inelegant and poorly optimised but well practised.
<Unit 66-241.601-BBC enact Protocol 8 target designation +attached+>
Immediately following, Amets discharged Friend Lasgun in the direction of one of the unwounded fleeing miscreants...

Half Action: Aim (+10 BS)
Free Action: Ranged Volley Order (Comrade Half Action) (+5 BS)
Half Action: Single Shot (+10 BS): +10 Short Range, + 10 Aim, +10 Single Shot, +5 Comrade Order = +35
BS test target (34+35) = 69, roll 1d100=63, one degree of success,  shot hits the body with the damage coming to... 1d10+3=10 if the target fails to negate the attack.

[Digital Hellhound]

Initiative: 2+4=6

BS First Shoot: 21

BS 2nd Shoot: 12

((What are the modifiers to the BS roll?))

[Comrade P.]

((You have two hits, with several degrees of success. Point-blanc +30, Orgyn has Hulking size, that also counts, but I don't quite know how. Roll for damage, I guess.))

[Avis-Mergulus]

Gant and Viverde------------------
Gant Initiative: 11
Ogryn Initiative: 7+3=10
Viverde Initiative: 6

Tristan is the first to react, blasting the Ogryn with his hellgun. The shot takes off an ear and immolates half of her hair, but doesn't seem to faze her much. [4 Damage]. The Ogryn closes the distance between her and the commissar with two loping strides, swinging her cleaver at him sidelong as she comes.
Ogryn WS roll:89
She misses him entirely, not even scratching him. He retaliates with two point-blank bolt rounds, hitting her in the left foot [6 Damage][8 Damage][RIGHTEOUS FUREH:5] and removing it in a spray of squishy bits.

Diego, Amalia, Amets-------------------------
Diego hastily corrects his aim and fries the fleeing guardsman's foot with with a single beam [4 Damage, 1 Critical]. The man drops to the ground, shrieking "Ah surrender, ah surrender! Please don' kill meh!"
Amalia advances, simultaneously firing at the next man in line and not hitting much of anything, except maybe a ceiling beam somewhere.
Amets hits him pretty square in the back, though, making him squeal like a piggy. There's a slight smell of roasting bacon. [Damage 10-3=7]

Bartolomeu is rather understandably pissed off at the situation and offers the Tamerians two options: stop and live or keep running and die. "Anyone who does not want to be killed, stop right now!" he roars with his commissariat-standard commanding/threatening voice. Of course, executing them means actually getting some good shots at them first.

Keep running after them.

Intimidate roll: 29 against a target of 28+20=48 (2 degrees)
Enemy willpower roll: [20 (1 degree), 78, 49]

The presence of an Imperial commissar seems to send the Tamerians into some sort of shock-induced stupor - the one whom Amets shot even drops to the floor, assuming a fetal position. You hear a faint "We dun frakked up now..." from him, and then he becomes still as if thinking your vision is based on movement.
The only one of them who retains some sort of dignity, insofar as they have any, is a Ratling with a ridiculous set of sideburns. He addresses you as he drops his pistol to the floor and raises his hands.
"Yer pardon, commissar, sah. Me an' the boys were jus' following orders."

Look around for a firearm.

Awareness:14, target of 13
There doesn't appear to be one in the immediate vicinity. You could try to force one of the lockers, probably.

Emil wakes up and pokes his head outside the tent to take a look around.

There's a trooper milling about outside, and no sign of your platoon. Straining your memory briefly, you recognize the man as Trooper Picano, a man whose faith is matched only by his complete lack of a spine.

Father Emil? It's... I... I have a confession to make, if you can spare a minute of your time. My conscience weighs heavy on my shoulders.

In what book he's found that phrase, Emperor only knows.

[Aseaheru]

_"Hell... Anyone got a spare weapon?"
Try to figure out what locker is most likely to hold a weapon and least secure.

[Comrade P.]

Approach the wounded fellow, lasgun ready, exclaiming:

- Drop your weapons and push them to me. Now.
If he does as said, pick up pistol. Then lean him against some container nearby and keep an eye on him.

[Caellath]

"Excellent. Troopers, keep an eye on them but no itchy trigger fingers." Bartolomeu has certainly sweat some from having to run after the men, though he's well-trained (and well-clothed) enough to retain his composure as the chase finally ends.

It is with his usual dignified poise that he decides to make something clear right then before things take a turn for the worse. "Following orders? Then you did well in stopping instead of being executed on the run. What were your orders and who gave them?" the political officer inquires, both of his weapons in his hands - sword held with his left - but not aimed at the Tamerians at the moment.

[Harbingerjm]

Amets hits him pretty square in the back, though, making him squeal like a piggy. There's a slight smell of roasting bacon. [Damage 10-3=7]

The presence of an Imperial commissar seems to send the Tamerians into some sort of shock-induced stupor - the one whom Amets shot even drops to the floor, assuming a fetal position. You hear a faint "We dun frakked up now..." from him, and then he becomes still as if thinking your vision is based on movement.

Disturbingly, Amets' Medicae Mechadendrite has gone from coiled up over the Techpriest's shoulder like a scorpion's tail to performing what appears to be an attempt at a spirit fingers solo. Only the digits are surgical equipment.
Striding towards the downed troopers, Amets frowns at the Ratling who had shown such disrespect for the Machine Spirits, sweeping up the dropped pistol and inspecting it for damage.

[Gamerlord]

*sigh*

'I am definitely too sober for this.'
"The Emperor forgives as well as protects, if you are truthful and sincere. What have you done that troubles you?"