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.
He takes a break from moaning and cursing to relinquish his laspistol holster to you, then resumes it as you drag him to sit next to a container wall. His profanity is quite colorful, though the effect is spoiled by his whining tone. He'll live, you surmise.
"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.
The ratling fidgets a bit.
"Weeee-eeell... Sergeant Rodric, sir. He's sort of a sergeant, but he knows the right people, ya know? He gets things for those who need em'... Matter o' fact, he got the box for one of yours, ya know? Some captain. Good to know that even the righteous o' Barrablanca have some things they want, eh?" He cuts off as he realizes he should probably avoid goading you.
"Well anyway, that captain's a born sucker. Rod figured we could nick the box back - put a tracking beacon in, fool didn't even check... Asking to be suckered, ya rea...eh, I mean, sir. I dunno what's in it, though, or the buyer's name - just his rank." More fidgeting.
"Me an' the louts, we're small fry, sir. We don't know nothin'."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.
The pistol is a standard issue model, old but weirdly enough, well cared-for. It has a red-dot sight under the barrel and the grip is wrapped with soft cloth. It seems to be alright.
Amalia sort of just stands there, gun pointing downwards, aaaas she didn't really have much to do when it came to interrogation-- she was a teenage psyker, and not all that brilliant socially.
She decided to make an idle probe for warp disturbances again, considering the bad read she got last time.
((Psyniscience roll, target 42: 76 AGAIN))
The readings are muddled and confusing again - perhaps it has something to do with the fact that you're on a ship travelling through the Warp, but you can't make anything out.
"Hell... Anyone got a spare weapon?"
Try to figure out what locker is most likely to hold a weapon and least secure.
Your comrades appear to be hoarding their guns. You figure you can try to force a few of the lockers on the second floor open - the ones deformed by the melta blast can't be very secure anymore.
Marn: roll Strength (+20)Gant and Viverde--------------------------------------------
As the Ogryn staggers back, Tristan promptly blasts a gash in the thigh her other leg. The gash instantly cauterizes, acquiring a charred steak-like texture. Yum. [4 Damage]
With a furious roar, the Ogryn slashes Viverde with her cleaver [All-Out Attack:
59 of 60]. The commissar tries to ward off the attack with his pistol, but is
simply unable to raise it fast enough as the blade hurtles toward
his face. He jerks away and it [
4+7] leaves a long slash on his face [3 Damage] before being deflected by the collar of his armor. Viverde's aim is knocked off, and his bullets perforate the wall behind the berserking giantess.
Emil----------------------------------------------------------
*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?"
The trooper muckles about.
"Ah...Well... I mean... Last night, when all that went down. Corporal Caceres, Father, he told me that the captain told him to do a thing, fetch a box from a place, put it into one of our containers. So we went, even though it was night and all, and the box, it was just standing there, in the way, like it was not supposed to, not stowed away in a container? And we took it and brought it with us, and it clinked like bottles, Father. And there was a man there, in a cloak, and the corporal gave him a datacard, I mean before we took the box." He looks more uneasy with each passing second.
"The others, Father, they think I'm slow and that I would be afraid to tell, but it's not like I'm telling anybody - I'm just confessing my sins. Probably sins, anyway. They were all not supposed to do that, were they?"
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Topic: The Siege of Angazea [7/7] - Back in Black (Read 36769 times)