Scooping up the meltagun and melta bomb he headed out of the armory with a large grin on his face. "Sure lets get some grub. Who knows when we'll get anotha chance!" Walking along he imagined melting holes in the walls near them like a hot knife through butter. This could destroy a chimera without a second thought, just imgune what it would do to one of those xeno's flesh! "So Geron what do you think the next op is gonna be? Taking an ork stronghold? Capturing more tunnels?" He frowned slightly at that last part. Definitely the more boring of the two. And what do you think about the Cubs? The big one might as well be an ogryn how big and loud he is!"
"I hope its something big but were probably going to take tunnel which is stupid but you know war is war a little engagement could change the war its better than standing on a guard post in the PDF of Ruvorn and watch nids come in waves after wave. Anyhow how's the lady hunt going?" having a drink and some rashions.
"Ha you know how it goes! Can never get'em to stick around long!" He shoveled food is his mouth and continued to talk, "Cause they like my striking good looks.... *swallows the food* But something always drives 'em away!" He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "Ya'know what I mean? Can't figure it out for the life of me!"
"I do lets go screw with the cubs and see what they're packing gun wise.Hey remember that one time a guy tried hitting on the lady commissar and she decked him was one the funniest thing I've seen." *Geron finished up his steak sandwich took his final drink got up and went to grab seconds because he knew brock and him were gonna eat more for the road. @PorOborosCain @DeranVendar
<Gorbon and Franco> For the time being both 'cubs' were separated with Franco crashed in a bunk within the barracks whilst Gorbon had wandered off to spend time with one of the few things as loud as himself: their well worn and beloved Autocannon. Hunched over the weapon the slab of muscle called a heavy weapons trooper was taking apart the weapon as a normal Guardsmen might take apart a las-gun, cleaning and maintaining it with a near constant stream of mindful litanies 'whispered' while he worked.
Not skipping a beat, Commissar Valentin placed his bolter pistol on the table between them. Removing his hand from it, now unarmed save for his power fist. "He was attempting to abandon his post in the heat of battle and I did my duty to ensure such behavior would not repeat itself at such a critical junction. To be honest, I thought I had only grazed the lad. One needs sterner metal to be of worth to the Emperor's blessing, everything else receives His Mercy. Am I here to be judged, Hochmann? I was under the impression We were here to win a War?" Uther questioned the rocking platoon leader. His chair giving off a cheap speaking noise with each rock.
<Oskar Hochmann> The man burst out in laughter and slammed the desk a few times with his non-power fist, even rubbing a tear off his eye. "Commissar, Commissar... What? I mean... Seriously. Judging you? Does this look like a military court to you? Would you still wear that giant hand would you be judged? And why ever you disarmed yourself." He pushed the Bolt Pistol back toward Uther, then leaning back in his chair. "I simply wanted to know. You assume too much for a soldier of your caliber. Perhaps you were meant more to lead? Mhhhh... Anyway... I just wanted to chat about your performance in my stead. It seems you kept the morale high and the soldiers straight in my absence. I rather wondered... Do you think it was false of me to pursue their leader in attempt to bring the combat to a swift end? Sure it broke the last bit of the Orks, but what was left to break? If I had been faster, then yes. It would have made sense. But it was a gamble and the Ork took longer to defeat than I had hoped." He was rocking back and forth in his chair as he spoke casually. "In short. Was it just or not that I ran after their leader?" Oskar stopped moving and intently stared up to the Commissar to see his reaction.
@Valonox When Geron got back to the table Brock looked left then right before leaning close to him, "Between you and me, I'd much rather be carrying that Power Sword and Bolt Pistol! Now those were some powerful weapons!" He leaned back grabbing a piece of bread and biting into the already stale crust of it, sending crumbs flying. "Where do ya think the others ran off too? Haven't seen a single one." He looked around the mess hall still wondering when someone was gonna say something about the Commissar's weapons. He wanted to take credit for killing the Nob, but he wasn't sure WHAT would happen because of what he did. Nevertheless he kept an eye out for any Commissar that might think to punish him.
Martin after the briefing decided he would go to the medicaes tent to get his leg fully looked at after bandaging he hoped it would be good enough that he could walk right in the next mission and he hoped since it came from a commisair that he would not get any strange looks or negative comments about it as the medic looked at it. he began taking out a small tin of tools. "Seems there may be some remnants from the bolt wound Going to have to operate a bit on getting out the metal." Martin clenched his teeth a bit as he lay back on the bed and let the medic get to work.
