Kill Team Narrative Campaign: The Raid

Carl sat in front of the reader savant, going though the pict capture stream from his duty helmet frame by frame. Suddenly he stopped and leaned forward to get a better look at the imagery. He zoomed in on the image of a cultist carrying an autorifle. There! A short search of records later and his suspicions had been confirmed-these were military grade rifles that had been provided to the PDF. This particular one was not in a lot that had been reported as stolen. He traced that shipment back to the armory it was allegedly delivered to. That armory was only a deci-block from where the ambush had taken place. "Got you heretic bastards," he thought as he grabbed up the records and printouts and walk swiftly and with purpose (Carl did not run unless exercising or under fire) to the Proctor's office.

In the long-since infiltrated PDF armory, Melkir Skorn walked nervously around the planning chamber. Could the Arbites who had laid Ghaskin low track them here? He could not be sure. "Double the watch and keep fresh eyes on the Arbites sub-precinct," he barked to the nearest Neophyte. He would not let the trust Ghaskin had placed in him be squandered to complacency.

The Repressor tanks idled loudly as the ten men climbed aboard. Servo skull conducting recon flights at the target site had reported back with imagery of what was clearly cultists going in and out of the site. The men inside conducted a final review of their gear as the machines chewed a path down the claustrophobic streets towards their target. Piles of rubbish and homeless shanties were crushed or tossed aside by the powerful machines.

Meanwhile, on the rooftops, semi-human eyes watched the procession head towards its inevitable goal. A handheld vox and a code phrase was spoken. "Unscheduled Worship".

The Repressors slewed to a stop and the hatches opened up. The driver, Trooper Rosko P. Koltrane looked on with envy as the rushed out; listening in on the vox is the closest he would get to this action. With well-rehearsed precision the men lined up for breaching operations. The com experted keyed in the proper sequence and the front door opened. Stun grenades were tossed in and flashed. Through the smoke the men rushed to find the entrance chamber empty....


From the side a door opened and cultists rushed forward. Somewhere around the corner another door opened and out poured more cultists. From an underground tunnel erupted Groust Seifer, one of the heralds of the ascension and the cells chosen son to deal with the more heavily armed non-believers. An Arbites who had proceeded too far into the room tried to get a shot off at him but he lept.








Grounst charged the closest Arbites and injured him but the human was neither down nor out. His cousin Jethrim rushed forward and tore into the trooper in front of him.
Carl opened up on a cultist but surprisingly failed to connect.







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The judge rushed forward to take out Groust



But was quickly cut down. Grounst turned to his companion who, seeing that discretion was the better part of valor, ran away leaving Groust in the open. From around the corner the aberrant, Kallliak charged Carl, his Power Pick cutting him down-Ghaskin was avenged!




The Arbites opened fire on Groust, cutting him down. The cultist had lost their most potent weapon against armored troops. All around the the room the troopers shots rang true.



The Arbites shots were coming home and cultist blood was splattered everywhere. Somehow the beasts kept moving but it was clear that this mission was all but over.

In the Repressor, Rosko's heart raced as the troops calls came in, reporting cultists down. He looked forward to walking the scene afterwards and reconstructing it in his head. This would be one for the textbooks.

And then it all changed. The mining laser hit home, cutting down one trooper. Gillan Sond with his flamer, finally lined up a trooper and blazed away. An autogun finally penetrated a chink in a troopers armor.





Rosko hear the confident reports turn into screams of trooper down. Their leader was down. Carl was down. Panic set in. It was going to be a slaughter. Desperation filled Rosko and suddenly the only realistic option occurred to him. He gunned the Repressor and rammed into the building, blow a hole in the side. He trigger the smoke dispensers into the hole. The shock of it seemed to rally the shaken Arbites and they quickly started falling back towards the hole as the Repressor backed up. Soldiers dragged the wounded, spraying wild shots to keep the cultists' heads down.

Confused and stunned, Melkir tried to rally his men but there was too much smoke and dust in the air. The building rumbled as the train of Repressors sped away. Cautiously he walked over to Groust and pushed the body with his boot. It hissed the moaned. Good. It would not do to lose such a favored son. The heathens had been repulsed but their stronhold had been discovered. It was time to do what his people did best; drift away into the hidden places.

Author's Note: This was written closer to the event but I still probably lost some detail in passing. We used the Rogue Trade rules and board and they were a blast. With the next installment we will be jacking up the points further and maybe including Commanders. After that, it may be time to graduate to small 40K games. I also got to use some terrain I've had for years and have been dying to use in an actual game. Ryan to his credit worked his butt off getting his Arbites ready for both games so proud of his hustle.