Only War: Jungle of Sin (IC)

[SlyJohnny]

(OOC thread: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showt...Sin&p=19610505)

Your awareness returns to you slowly, in small pieces. The first of these pieces is pain, in your neck and shoulders, whiplash from being thrown around as the landing shuttle came crashing down out of the sky. More pain; friction burns from the strong tethers and straps that have stubbornly kept you secured to the bench mounted along the cabin walls of the shuttle, exacting their toll on whatever bare or thinly-clothed flesh they were touching.

Next, a feeling of vertigo as your body moves along with the shuttle that it's currently attached to, leaning to the side a little, like a baby's cradle being nudged by a gentle breeze. You hear the creak of metal straining against something. Hearing! Another thing that your body can still do. Maybe the crash wasn't as bad as all that. From the way the pilots were carrying on, you were assuming it would be a lot worse. What else? You can faintly smell something burning. That's usually not great news.

You open your eyes and look around, confirming that you're still inside the landing shuttle. You don't think much time has passed since the crash. You straighten your neck- the shuttle's tilted a little to the side, meaning you were either slumped over on your right shoulder or resting your head in the lap of the soldier next to you- and watch as your squadmates start to do the same. You exchange blinks with the soldier strapped to the wall directly opposite you. You can't see any of the three-man Navy crew, but it looks like everyone in your squad has survived. Cornelius C's servitor was too bulky for a harness and there was no time to assist it into one in any event, so it lies on the cabin floor with it's arms spread out, it's servo-fists still bracing itself against the benches, locking itself in place with unnatural strength. As it hasn't yet been ordered to stop doing this, it remains motionless, and expressionlessly stares up at the ceiling with it's glassy eyes. It looks peaceful, as if it were communing with the Emperor himself.

Trooper Jace Marn stirs the slowest, but when he comes to his senses, the first thing he does is frantically reach under the bench for the squad's vox-caster he's charged with carrying. He retrieves it and eyes it critically for any signs of damage; he seems ready to disassemble and examine it there and then unless someone stops him. Your backpack is still stowed underneath your bench, and with it your lascarbine and your Devil's Claw machete/sword, still in it's sheathe. Aleksandr and Ophelia's bulky grenade launchers are broken down into their separate components, but Ophelia knows she can reassemble hers in about five seconds if her sister helps, and Aleksandr is equally confident. The cabin lights are off and it's pretty dark in here, but sunlight is pouring in through a ragged hole in the hull towards the front of the shuttle. You can see the sky through it, but not much else from this angle. It's a small hole, just big enough to carefully squeeze through, but the razor-sharp hull spars lining it means it would leave much to be desired as an exit even if those spars weren't slick with blood... from that Navy crewman who was helping you all secure your harnesses until it was too late for him to strap himself in. That missile or whatever it was tore the hole open, and then he went flying out through it, screaming all the while.

The only other two exits that present themselves are the door to the cockpit, which you're pretty sure is locked or secured somehow (and from which you can hear nothing save faint and garbled static from the shuttle's obviously damaged vox array), and the rear bay doors, which you're not completely sure how to open. Reaching the cockpit door or the hole in the hull would require you to unstrap yourself and then climb up the sloped cabin floor, whereas the rear bay doors are at the opposite end of the shuttle, at the bottom of the slope. The angle is such that you'd actually be standing on top of the bay doors once you reached the bottom of the slope, unless you found a handhold to brace yourself on directly above the door, or secured yourself some other way.

There's that creak of metal again. Odd, that.

Spoiler

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Moving up the slope towards the hole or the cockpit requires a +20 Acrobatics or Athletics roll (your choice), +30 if you're willing to take your time and move at half speed and reach it in two rounds/posts rather than one. Failure will just mean “no progress” unless it's particularly egregrious. Climbing down towards the rear bay hatch is the same, unless you want to just let yourself drop and slide down.

[Demon 997]

Darrien Holt

Darrien slowly comes to his senses in the crashed shuttle. What the... where are we... As memory and awareness trickles in, he begins scanning the room, pain in his neck be warped.

Seeing the rest of the squad still coming to their senses, Darrien begins going through his mental post crash checklist.

Throne, this is a mess. Hopefully we're not far from the dropzone. I want another march through jungle like I want to arm wrestle an Ogryn.

Squad, sound off! Stormtrooper Holt reporting. Any wounded?

Mentally checking himself for wounds, and finding nothing to speak off, Darrien unclipped himself and hoisted his gear onto his back. Unslinging his grapnel and line, he fired it to near the hole in the shuttle, and began to haul himself up.

I'll check and see what's outside.

Spoiler: Rolls/OOC

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(1d100)[43] Acrobatics, agi 44, untrained -20, circumstance +20, any bonus for using the grapnel? TN 44

Italics is thoughts.

[ChronicLunacy]

Commissar Anders Beckett

The creaking of metal and the low groans of waking troopers brought Beckett around, his world dark and full of aching pain. He was secured by straps that had dug tightly into his shoulders and waist, his limbs hanging as the compartment they were in leaned precariously to one side and at an angle. A spear of light coming from the ragged hole in the side of the shuttle made his eyes hurt, and he was glad for the tall, commissar's hat that had miraculously stayed on his head as he pulled the brim down to shield his face.

He twisted around, making sure that his bolt pistol was still secure in the holster on his right thigh. His chainsword was still strapped to his pack underneath the bench he was sitting on, and he reached down briefly to make sure it hadn't fallen. Then, using one hand to grab the overhead rails, he smashed the quick release on his crash harness to free himself. Beckett had to flail for a moment to get his other hand and his feet braced, considering the awkward angle in which they were leaning. "Sound off! If you're alive you still have your duty! All the enemy have done is gotten us to the war faster. We should thank the curs for it!" he growled, pouring on the gung-ho to give the troopers a little morale pick-me-up.

Beckett was somewhat close to the cockpit, but he tried to pick his way up slowly so he wouldn't slip and fall. He wanted to see if their pilots were still alive, but also if they might be able to salvage the heavy-duty vox caster somehow. If they could at least report their position that would be something. It was difficult to get anywhere fast, however, and the first handhold he tested didn't support his weight, so he reset and tried another.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Athletics +30 Half-Speed TN45: (1d100)[49]
Command Special Action - Inspire TN41 + Bonus? (1d100)[45] (Assuming I've succeeded with even a +10, that gives everyone else a +10 to their next Athletics/Acrobatics skill rolls.)

[kingofportland]

Godwinne Solare

As Godwinne slowly wakes up, stretching and trying to remove the pain in his neck, he mutters to himself "That was most definitely unexpected."

At the sound of his Comissar's voice, he stands a little straighter, looking around and making sure everybody is alright. Once he is satisfied, Godwinne works his way slowly towards the hole.
"I'll help check outside."

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d100)[11] Athletics 30 - 20 + 30 = TN 40

[Sir_Toast]

Rolling his head and trying to relieve the pain in his neck, Cornelius came to with a headache, and Omnissiah was it hurting.

"Ow."

Seeing his servitor on the floor and holding its position, Cornelius responded to the Commissar's call: "Cornelius-C here! I'm going to the rear hatch, be cautious. I don't like the sounds the metal is making, nor this pain of the machine spirits."

Spoiler: Rolls

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I'm going to drop down to the rear hatch, and see what's up. I'm also going to roll Logic to see if I can deduce what our position is.
(1d100)[81] vs. TN 35 (+ or - Any modifiers.)

[saithor]

Natalia slowly woke up from her pain to find that they were in the plane, but it was tilted. Had they crashed? Then she heard the bark of the commissar, and instinct forced her to get moving. Cautiously though, the transport was obviously damaged. She hit her own crash harness, and grabbed a support rail before she was sent sliding down the floor. "Private *cough* Grune sounding off. Anybody hurt?" Seeing the Commissar trying to make his way to the cockpit she began making her way over to him. "Hold on just a second sir, let me give you a hand."

Spoiler: OOC

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Acrobatics check 33 base, -20 untrained, +30 Half Speed Circumstance TN 43 (1d10)[1] And I put in the wrong dice. Actual roll is in IC.

[Chivy]

Psyker Reva Abathur

Au. Sometimes low gothic had an elligance and economy to it's words that was amazing. It was as if the person who first uttered the word, created it for exactly the occasion where somebody had been beaten and battered by g-forces, a sudden stop, metal walls and semi-flexible seatbelts. Au worked perfectly for occasions like these.

Her mind alread running off in one direction Reva opened her eyes and took stock of what was happening around her. Most people looked like they agreed with her assesment of au. The shuttle had crashed. Saw that coming. She mutterd a comforting lie to herself.

After seeing the Commissar struggle with keeping his ballanse after releasing his restraints, Reva braced both her feet and one arm before slapping her own quick release.

Psyker Abathur, I'm still here. She said as she pulled her gear from beneath her seat and strapped it onto her back. When she was certain her gear was secure she said I'll back up Holt. to anybody who was listening before following Holt toward the hole in the fusalage.

Spoiler: rolls

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rolling athletics. Agi = 31 -20 untrained +20 circumstances tn: 31[rollv]]1d100[/rollv][

[Urist]

As Aleksandr awakes, his first instinct is to call out for Conrad, then to check his kit and ensure his grenade launcher's parts are all in their proper place. "Aleksandr sounding off! No injuries. Making my way to the hole in the hull, sirs! Any idea what the hell hit the shuttle to bring it down?"

Better hope there's no welcoming committee; a crash like a shuttle might attract far more attention than I'd like. Better be ready for anything.

Unstrapping himself, Aleksandr begins the attempt to scramble up the hull, and, as soon as he has a view, scanning the immediate surroundings and drawing his lasgun to provide insurance if anything hostile rears its head.

Spoiler

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Acrobatics: (1d100)[96]: TN: 37

[SlyJohnny]

All:

Beckett struggles to advance along the handrail, but clambering up the side of the shuttle with the confused shifting movements of several troopers getting in his way proves difficult.

Sergeant Godwinne Solare has better luck, swinging his way over both his confused vox-operator comrade and the commissar to arrive at the hole first.

Darrien pauses a moment to fish around in his pack for his grapnel gun and swap the head around to “magnetic” before discharging it, aimed next to the cockpit door, but once the line attaches, he fair races past the Beckett and arrives just after Godwinne.

Natalia nimbly scales the mess of straps and grumbling troopers, successfully avoids getting brained by a comrade struggling to swing his retrieved pack around and over his shoulders, and crosses over to Beckett's side of the shuttle, reaching down to help him up.

Cornelius C tumbles clumsily on top of the rear bay door, landing onto it with a hollow metallic sound.

Aleksandr checks on Conrad. The younger trooper is a little shaken up and has a couple of bruises, but he'll live. The grenade launcher's parts are all functional, but it was stripped to allow it to be easily transported in the shuttle, and will need to be reassembled. Doing that in the cramped confines of the shuttle will be less than ideal, but he knows he and Conrad can do it quickly once he gets some more room to work. As he unfastens his crash harness and makes his way to the top of the craft, his foot skids across chrome and he bangs his shin painfully, causing his hand to let go of the bar he was gripping.

He slides down the landing shuttle to land on top of Cornelius, which also ellicits another metallic creak and perceptible shift in the angle of the shuttle. Those still on the benches have to grip on tighter to avoid falling down after him

Reva curses eloquently and retrieves her gear. Duko eyes her warily, his first thought even after nearly dying, but then crawls after her, apparently decided she doesn't constitute a threat to the Imperium today.

Cornelius C:

You scrutinise the bay door you're now crouched on top of, interrupted only by a clumsy trooper landing on your back before thumping down onto the door beside you.

The normal open-rune seems to have been damaged, and is no longer able to communicate with the door's machine spirits and urge that they open when it is struck. Probably a relatively simple, quick repair, with the tools you have to hand. Alternatively, there's a lever marked EMERGENCY RELEASE behind a thin red panel. That's likely linked to small explosive pins around the frame of the door. That lever will get it open immediately, and permanently, recalcitrant release-rune machine spirits be damned. Aleksandr also can see the lever from where he lies, though he hasn't deduced any other means of getting the door open.

Darrien, Godwinne, Reva:

The three of you peer out of the hole, wary of the jagged metal that threatens to rake your faces if you make any unwise movement.

You appear to be above the treeline of the jungle, the shuttle partially nestled in the foliage. The weird calls of animals and insects greet you, as well as a wave of hot, muggy air. The sky is empty apart from the occasional small avian creature, fluttering away in the distance. Whatever the landing shuttle is resting on is slightly taller than most of the trees, and you can see as far as some hills in the distance ahead, a large mountain off to the left, and you can also see a gap in the sea of trees that hints at some kind of valley, or possibly a river, cutting through the jungle. You can't see much of the jungle floor from here. To the right, you can see the wing of the shuttle. The thruster attached to the wing has been torn away by whatever made the hole you're peering out of, but the wing itself is still attached and doesn't look fragile, and you might be able to climb onto it or on top of the shuttle, if you were careful. Squeezing out through the hole past the jagged spars is possible, but it'll be murder on your torso and your legs unless you're very careful, and shimmying across to the wing will be tricky for the first person to attempt it. Darrien's carapace will keep him safe, but everyone else will have a problem.

Below you, a small opening in the canopy hints at a clear fall to the ground, at least 70 metres below.

Spoiler: Climbing through the hole

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Climbing through the small hole as it is now is possible, but it menaces with sharp extrusions of hull, so it'll be an Ordinary (+10) Acrobatics check to wiggle through without cutting your torso and legs, with a knife's worth of damage to either torso or a leg (I'll roll) for each degree of failure. I'll need a second Acrobatics or an Athletics roll in order to climb or shimmy across to either the top of the shuttle or to get on the wing, and you don't want to fail that one.

[Urist]

Aleksandr curses as he lands stop Cornelius, the tech priests' metallic form providing little in the way of a soft landing. As he hears the shuttle creak, he freezes, and his eyes dart to the hole in the hole and the cockpit, hoping that it maintains structural stability for at least long enough for th squad to make it out. He slowly eases his way to his feet, and begins poking at the door switch, trying to discern the issue. If Cornelius attempts to look, he clears out of the way of the Tech-Priest, looking over his shoulder and attempting to be as helpful as he can.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Tech-Use to assist Cornelius, or diagnose the problem of Cornelius chooses not to examine it: (1d100)[83] TN:?(Base 36)

[Sir_Toast]

With an audible groan, Corwin got out his combi-tool and the grapnel given to him by the yelling Catachans. Hooking up to a sturdy support, he grabs Aleksandr's hand before it pulls the emergency release and quietly hisses, "Not that one! Secure yourself before you do more than look!"

Turning his full attention to the door, Corwin pops off an access panel and begins diagnosis and repair. "D-14! Help secure my grapnel line."

Spoiler: OOC Actions

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I'm going to hook myself to something that won't fall off, and have my servitor use a support to keep itself from falling while it holds the line.
Tech-Use to diagnose and fix the door: (1d100)[68] vs. TN 45+ (INT 35, +10 Combi-Tool, and maybe additional modifiers because it's supposed to be an easy job?)

[kingofportland]

Godwinne Solare

Oh! Right, grapnels. How could I have forgotten? is Godwinne's first thought. Seeing the challenge in front of him, he steadies himself and tries to climb out without any mishaps.
"I'll test it first,"he declares.

Spoiler: OOC

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Athletics Test: TN-20 (1d100)[15]

[ChronicLunacy]

Commissar Anders Beckett

Beckett grunted and nodded in thanks to Trooper Grune as she gave him a hand up. He wasn't too proud to accept help when it was offered, and he wouldn't spurn a soldier's earnest offer, especially in a situation like the one they found themselves. He adjusted his pack so that it wouldn't interfere nor fall from his shoulders, but tightened his hold on the rail when a trooper fell heavily and the shuttle tilted precariously. He didn't reprimand the man, as anyone could fall given the wrong step, but he did briefly glare down at Aleksandr because of the noise.

"Let's get the cockpit door open." he directed the troopers beside and around him. He touched the activation rune that would normally do the trick, whispering a catechism of opening and activation he'd heard somewhere under his breath in an attempt to appease the no doubt riled machine spirits. He hoped they wouldn't have to cut it open. Not only was he not sure if anyone had a lascutter, but it would take time and create lots of noise. Maybe they could brute force it open if this didn't work...

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Not sure if I need another Athletics check.
Untrained Athletics +30 Half-Speed TN45: (1d100)[35]
If this requires a Tech-Use, I'm probably SOL...but here it is anyway. Untrained Tech-Use TN10: (1d100)[65]

[saithor]

Natalia held her hand out to Beckett. " ask again, is anybody on here hurt? Everybody needs to check their comrades and see if there still alive. We may have people who are just uncouncouss and can't respond." She then realized that she had just issued orders, and to.... She paled "Um, sorry if that exceeded my authority sir." She told Beckett. She didnt know him that well and some Comissars could be extremely picky.

Spoiler: OOC

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Athletics roll TN 43 again? (1d100)[88]

[ChronicLunacy]

Commissar Anders Beckett

Beckett raised an eyebrow at Natalia, pausing at his work on the door for just a second. It wasn't like the soldiers of the 131st to seek his approval or show more than the barest amount of deference to his position. He decided she wasn't mocking him and took it at face value, though, since she'd helped him up not a moment ago.

"Do as Medic Grune says, men. Check the trooper next to you. No hiding wounds to impress the lady!" he called down at the rest of the Catachans.

[Demon 997]

Darrien Holt

What's the plan people? I advise we rappel from the lower door. Be just like the aerial insertion on Carex Prime...

Which the rest of them weren't there for. That was a past life. Stay in the here and now. Keep it together man.

Darrien steadies himself, then retrieves his grapnel and line.

I'll follow the Sergeant, see what's there and if we can get down this way.

Darrien squeezes through the hole, trying to avoid the spars, even though his armor should protect him. Once he's through, he magnetizes his grapnel to the side of the ship, then clips onto it, intending to climb onto the top of the ship and get a better view of the area.

Spoiler: Rolls

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(1d100)[37] TN 34 (Agility 44, -20 untrained, +10 circumstance) Wishing I'd trained it now...
(1d100)[87] TN 24 (Agility 44, -20 untrained)
(1d100)[74] TN 36 (Awareness roll for once I'm up top. See if theres anything interesting in the area.

[Chivy]

Psyker Reva Abathur

After taking in the view outside, Reva called to the compartment behind her:
We're not on the ground, but hung up on something above the treeline. Looks like at least a seventy meter drop, so be carefull and secure yourselves before you try and get out. She then took her own advise and took out her grapnel and secured herself to the side of the fuselage with the magnetic head.

While doing that Reva noticed Duko making his way towards up the compartment with his almost-scowl. She greeted him with her most winning 'we're going to be fine' smile, then turned back to what she was doing.

After she was sure she at least wouldn't fall on het squadmates, she glanced around at the troopers beside her and shrugged.
Either of you have anything to make that hole less like crawling through a bag of razors? Or maybe if you push your way through Solare, you could use that thick ceramite plating of yours to flatten the pointiest parts for the rest of us.

Pre-empting Solare's probable grimace with a grin, she set herself back away from the hole and cupped her hands to give a stable platform to one of the other troopers so they could do their thing.

[qechua]

Private Ephreal Ophelia

In some twisted way, the descent had been fun, the panic as the ship had tumbled through the atmosphere in ways it was never supposed to. The hitting the ground part had been less enjoyable, however, and Ophelia had no memory of the impact itself, only the seconds leading it up to it. She slowly stirred, hearing the sounds of her squad mates around her as she struggled to rouse herself. Their voices made sounds she couldn't figure out, and they seemed far more distant than the pains across her body.

E.h.y, c.n .ou he.. .e?

The words were beyond here, but the voice very familiar.

.ph..? Wa.. u.!

The world spun around her, and her brain failed to understand where she was. In the distance, she heard a loud bang, some metal on metal impact very close. Between that, and her sister apparently trying to squeeze her thumb off, she focussed. She turned her head to find her sisters face directly infront of her, carrying a worried expression that said more than words could. A rather hefty looking bruise took up a sizable part of Uriel's forehead, and she instinctively put her hand to her own face, feeling sharp burst of pain as she touched something tender.

Ephey! Can you hear me? Are you hurt?

Pulling her hand away to look at it, there was a small trace of blood, but nothing that couldn't wait.

Yeah, but I don't think serious. What happened?
No time, bad situation, be ready to move carefully.

Almost by instinct, Ophelia unsecured herself and grabbed half of the gear, Uriel repeating the action with the other half beside her. They carefully stood by their seats, steadying themselves against the shuttle wall while checking each other over. Aside from a few tears, their uniforms didn't show any telltale signs of blood loss, and the only visible injuries were their respective head knocks. Surveying the scene before them, they saw a lot of people smarter than them were trying to figure a solution to a problem they didn't even know yet, and they'd likely make things worse through rash action. Nonetheless, they slowly headed towards the hole Sergeant Solare and Stormtrooper Holt were investigating.

[SlyJohnny]

Corwin

You've reconnected the line from the button to the door. The machine spirits can talk to each other now, and the door will do what it's supposed to when you hit "open". Your servitor has your grapnel line and it's also attached to the seat, so you won't fall through the door when it does open.

Godwinne Solare, Darrien

Godwinne nimbly slips through the gap without getting his flesh raked by spars, and manages to scrabble onto the wing without plunging into the jungle below. When he's there, he's able to reach back and help pull Darrien and Jace up onto the wing, and from there it's a simple excercise to vault onto the top of the shuttle.

There's thick black smoke rising from the other side of the shuttle; the thruster on the opposite wing is burning, you can hear it crackling. You can smell promethium. The fire seems small and it hasn't found the fuel line yet, but neither of you know enough about small voidcraft to say when that might be.

Around you, you can't see sign of any of the other landing craft... you must be extremely off course. You vaguely remember an order to the flight to scatter in order to evade the incoming fire, but the fact that there isn't even one other shuttle nearby is faintly ominous. But perhaps they all veered away and managed to land somewhere?

You realise for certain now that you're lodged in an exceptionally tall and thick tree; behind you, several other trees have had their upper branches smashed as the shuttle skimmed over them before settling into this one. The rear of the shuttle is leaning back against the tree behind this one, but the branches shift, uncomfortably. The shuttle is soon going to slip out of the tree, and crash into the jungle floor, 70 or 80 metres below.

You can reach the rear tree from here, or the front of the shuttle. You can see that the glass of the cockpit has been smashed in after the shuttle dove directly into a thick branch of the tree, which now reaches in to the cockpit.

Natalia, Anders Beckett, Reva Abathur

The two of you reach the far end of the shuttle. The door to the cockpit is locked, either because of some nonsensical Navy standard operating procedure, or some confused decision made shortly before the crash.

Spoiler

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You'll need an untrained Security roll to get the lock open or some good Strength rolls to smash it open.

Ophelia reaches the others near the cockpit door. Her sister gingerly clambers after her.

[saithor]

Natalia

Natalia hooked her grapnel onto a support strut next to her. Better safe then sorry in case some idiot flipped over the plane. She then turned to the security lock. She got to work on it, and agaisnt her expectations, she maaged to get it open. "Cockpit door's open." She said as she tried to open the now-unlocked door.

Spoiler: ooc

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Untrained Security Test TN 29 vs (1d100)[11]

[Urist]

Aleksandr backs off immediately as Corvin admonishes him; curious he might be, but certainly not enough to interfere in the domain of a tech-priest not desiring of assistance. Instead, he secures his grapnel, and helps Conrad do the same. Once he's attached, he'll brace himself above the door, covering the opening with his lascarbine. Even if no one had reported any hostiles, he didn't want to be surprised in the close quarters of the shuttle by some jungle critter sneaking through the trees unobserved. If this place was anything like Catachan, a metal box full of troopers suspended above the forest floor would be a nearly irresistible clarion call for any predators.

As an afterthought, he calls up to Sergeant Solare and the Commissar, hoping that they can hear him from the outside of the shuttle; better to check before any decisions, or mistakes, are made. "Orders Sarge? When Corvin gets tha door workin, should we start descendin, p'raps? Not sure I like the idea of bein stuck in an unpowered shuttle this far up."

Spoiler: OOC

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Just gonna hang tight for now. What sort of penalties are we looking at for a test to start descending? Or does using the winch on a grapnel to descend actually require an Athletics test?

[kingofportland]

Godwinne Solare

"I'll check out the ground a little more closely," Godwinne says. "Hopefully we can get to a better position in this jungle." He applies his grapnel to the side of the voidcraft and works his way down to the ground slowly and cautiously.

[ChronicLunacy]

Commissar Anders Beckett

Medic Grune continued to prove very useful as the door swung open, and Beckett continued forward into the pilots' compartment. He didn't expect to see them alive, especially considering the first thing he saw was a tree branch spearing through the front canopy... He was more interested to see if there was anything he could salvage, and if the lander's vox caster still operated.

Meanwhile, a trooper called up to them. With the sarge climbing out onto the wing, the Commissar responded. Cupping one hand against his face, he ordered Aleksandr to "Get everyone out and clear the space under this thing in case it falls! We'll rendezvous on the ground!"

[Sir_Toast]

Despite the constant attacks upon the name his mother gave him, Cornelius decided to forgive and forget. Making sure Aleksandr was secured, the Tech-Priest voxed to the Commissar:

"Rear hatch functioning. Opening now."

Turning to the guardsman who fell on him, CC quietly says, "Be ready."

Spoiler: OOC

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As I open the hatch, I'm going to draw my lasgun and take aim (Full Action Aim). Strongly recommend Aleksandr do the same.

[Demon 997]

Darrien Holt

Darrien saw that the others had managed to open the cockpit door, and assumed they'd handle things in there just fine. Clipping his grapnel to the side of the craft, he follows the Sergeant to the ground, taking caution.

Once there he clears out from under the craft, intending to meet up with the others. Shouldering his hotshot lasgun, he scans the area around them for danger.

Safely on the ground. Forming up on the Sergeant.

Spoiler: Rolls

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(1d100)[57] Awareness, TN 36

[saithor]

Natalia moved into the cockpit and immediatly hrabbed the pilots dog tags and any other portable equipment that could prove useful. Charge-packs, ration-packs, grenades if they even possibly had them. "Commissar sir, ready to head down unless theres anything else up here we need to get." She said, as she moved over to the door, getting ready to use the grapnel to descend to the jungle floor below.

Spoiler: OOC

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Acrobatics check if needed (1d100)[14]

[SlyJohnny]

Godwinne and Darrien

The two of you fasten your grapples magnetically to the shuttle's hull, and then allow yourselves to slip underneath the treeline towards the ground below.

Beneath the canopy, you can see the trees are very densely packed and tall, and the ground is composed of thick vegetation that rises above the occasional small boulder. There are no natural trails, so it's going to be slow going. The foliage is... well, green. But it reminds you more of some kind of moss or even algae than it does of genuine jungle underbrush. There's distinctions between different kinds of plant life, furry bushes and fronds poking out over the topsoil, and these tall leafy structures look very much like moss-covered wooden trees, but still. You've both been in more than your fair share of alien jungles, but this one is odd. It looks nothing like Catachan.

That's not to say that there aren't similarities, however. You freeze as something you mistook for a shrub abruptly rolls it's shoulders and wipes off it's head with an arm that's holding a massively oversized choppa.

You look around. There's more. Two are climbing the tree the shuttle leans against, heaving their muscular bulks up along the width of the trunk, knives gripped between their fangs. Another is further away and to the right, and it's clenching a large drum-fed shoota. Just four, then? You spot another movement in the distance, something humanoid in an ork-shaped sort of way resolves into view, winding it's way through the trendline and peering up at the crashed shuttle with what could be confusion. Or awe. Or excitement. It's hard to tell with orks. Damnation. How many more are down there that you can't see from this angle? The abundance of trees could conceal many, and there could be dozens crouching in the foliage beneath you. They don't seem to have noticed you yet, but they probably will if you rappel further down below the concealment offered by the tree branches.

Natalia and Anders

The medic slips a small length of wire in between the doors magnetic sensors long enough to fool it into unlocking itself, and the commissar elects not to care where exactly she learned that trick. They both stride into the cockpit, and begin tossing it for supplies.

Anders

Both pilots, who are still sprawled across their chairs and covered in blood, had a small parcel strapped to the rear of their chairs containing ejection kits which are mostly somewhat disappointing. Mosquito nets, basic tools, a small field knife each, emergency blankets... all inferior to or made redundant by your own kit. You do find a total of eight chemical glow sticks, six field sutures, two injectors with a dose of detox each, some water and two small vacuum-sealed ration packs that will barely last a day each for a single soldier on the march, and which you're willing to bet will taste awful. There are also two vox-screamer boxes. You're not sure exactly, but you think if you pull the tag out on either one of them, then the tiny machine spirit inside the box will cry out to any other device (such as an augur array) that might be looking for it, thus accelerating a rescue. However, there exists the possibility that an enemy will intercept these screams, too.

Natalia

You move past the commissar and unceremoniously yank the cognomen tags from the neck of the bloodied corpse who has half a tree jutting out of her upper torso. The pilots are both wearing holstered laspistols, which you can take. No other weapons are apparent, and over their flight suits they wear flak vests similar to your own. You turn to the other pilot- no trees sticking out of this one, just a head wound nasty enough to have ruined his flight helmet- and reach for the cognomen tag around his neck.

A bloodied hand snaps up to grab your wrist, squeezing it with surprising strength. The pilot looks up at you, eyes wide, terrified, uncomprehending. He tries to say something, blood running down from his split lower lip, but he can't get the words out. He drops your wrist and gasps out a ragged breath, as if inhaling and exhaling takes all the effort in the world.

All in the rear

Cornelius C depresses the rune, and with a complaining clank, the door opens and ramp starts to lower, and you are greeted with your first real view of the jungle beneath. And of the tree which the back of the shuttle is resting against, precariously.

The door continues to lower, and lower, until it starts pushing at one of the thick branches the shuttle is resting on. As it slowly displaces it, the shuttle suddenly slides backwards towards the tree. Everyone can see this coming with enough time to grab hold of something, so nobody tumbles out of the shuttle and falls to their death on the jungle floor below, but the shuttle is now nearly vertical, and from the accelerated creaking noises you're hearing, it's not going to stay in the tree for much longer. You hear a branch snap somewhere underneath.

Natalia and Anders are thrown back against the cockpit as the shuttle lurches back. Darrien and Godwinne are slammed against the side of the tree from where they hang, but if anything this aids their concealment rather than gives them away.

There are indistinct shouts coming from somewhere below. At least three deep and guttural voices.

[Sir_Toast]

Seeing the drop below him and hearing the voices, CC quietly swears and voxes the squad: "We need to get out, we can't stay very much longer."

Turning to Aleksandr, the only trooper near him, CC whispers, "Any suggestions? I've never done this before."

[saithor]

"Feth." Natalia said as she moved back up to the wounded pilot and hit the emergency release for his harness. "Sir, can you give me a hand here please?" She asked as she tried to get the pilot out of the chair. Turning to the pilot she said "Careful. You jerk around too much and you'll send us all crashing to our deaths. Can you move?". She then hit a button on her vox. "We have one wounded in the cockpit. Can anybody give me a hand up here?" she whispered over the channel.

Spoiler

Show

This is for Acronatics or whatever roll I need for getting the pilot out. (1d100)[97]

[ChronicLunacy]

Commissar Anders Beckett

"Belay that. Everyone keep moving. Get out of this lander." Beckett whispered to anyone that had heard Trooper Grune's request.

The Commissar put a hand over the pilot's mouth and whispered to the man, "Can you move? Nod once for yes, twice for no. We've got company." he warned, looking around. He shoved the screamer boxes, the ration packs, and the laspistol from the dead woman into his pack with his other hand. He needed to know if this man could walk out of here if they got him down and fire a weapon when they did. If not...he was going to have to ruin any goodwill the medic might still hold for him.