Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1734134-20170510201147/@comment-1734134-20170607233133

“You’ll need to provide evidence of any of such claims. Furthermore, you match the descriptions and vox-captures from our troops, while you have no evidence of anything you’ve claimed. You’re a jumped up merc who thinks he can waltz in here and take over our operation – and thinking we’re Imperials – you’re stupid as well. Arrogant prat – you can tell your master this – if he wants a deal, he’s better trying to make it himself. You’re promises are worth moot,” the screen is rocked by static for a moment, the commanders head snapping to one side, “What? Throne.”

The screen goes black as the soldiers behind you raise their rifles and open fire, battering the back of your armour with las and auto-rounds, slowly pulling back towards the door.

The bunker explodes in a furious blast that almost throws you off your feet, but the grenades merely patter off the hull of the command bunker, while the return fire whizzes past, a shot striking your flank and sending you into a spin. One of the Skitarii pulls you up, while the other group of machine men fall into cover, exchanging pot shots with the entrenched renegades – until something lands on top of them. It goes straight through one of the bunkers, throwing all of you off your feet. The artillery shakes and the ground rumbles, smoke rising into the air.

Your ship has carried you to the surface – it’s rusted, corroded hull carrying you ‘safely’ through the grey skies of this backwater planet. As the control panels whirl and systems whirl, steam and smoke fills the compartment and a hatch is fired open, revealing to you a large artillery position – one you seem to have partially flattened.