Under a firey sky

I have been rather taken in with the history of my hometown's regiment the LSSR and have basicly started a new regiment inspired by them Hope you like the fist part of this story and the info provided here.
Hope this link works: http://www.thunderbaymuseum.com/lsr.htm
Second link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lake_Superior_Scottish_Regiment
MacGillivry pattern tarten: https://2img.net/h/i211.photobucket.com/albums/bb309/hammersfan_01/Tartans/MacGillivray.gif (yes I intend to piant that)
***

That's pretty cool stuff, dwi. Tartans can be a bit daunting, but, if properly done, make for a spectacular mini...one that always draws attention. GOOD LUCK with the project.

Thanks deaf! If you read the links what did you think oh the LSSR history?
***
Chapter one:
Val Karmine cursed as a lasgun round whiped past her face sending slpinters from the wall of the house in to her face.
"Damn those blue skin loveing bastards" She muttered
"I thought they were grey?" Said Forgorst nearby his flabby burnt face twitching slightly
"Who cares?" Sergant Major Haskin said riseing from cover to fire a return volly from his scoped and supressed autogun
"as long as they still try to take our world I don't care" teh turning to look out the windo he bellowed "We resist you worthless bastards! Our World resists!"
"You are fools to do so!" came a reply back
Ducking back Haskin said the word they did not want to hear
"Run"
"Sir I..." Val begain
"NO"
"But..."
"I said no and thats final! You and Forgorst get out of here"
"You can't take 'em alone!" Forgorst said
"Not roght now... but I can get you out pf here! GO!"
Val cursed even louder this time and tryed pick up Forgorst from the floor of the house.
"Wait, wait!" Forgort protested and crwled over to the body of a dead fighter to check on the vox pack
"We can't take that with us we..."
"No let his check" Haskin said
"There are are... there are..."
"What?"
"Guardsmen!" Forgort said turning back a bright look aon his face "The guard are here!"

***

Commissar Agustus Braun, attached to the 96th Cantamatian Auxiliary watched as Samason Mcran squrimed in his flight chair.
The strange man was a Colonel, the leader of the 96th . Hell the whole regiment and even the Cantamatian mind set was strange.
When he had first heard the word "auxillary" he had feared he was being assigned to a rabble of feral worlders. But he had been reassured by the his superior, the ageing Lord Commissar Brennen that the Cantamatians were "Dependable and hard fighting"

As he had trecked his way through the troop ship to his new regiment he has invisioned a strong looking bunch of fellows with steely eyes. Like his former regiment the 909th Mordian. What he fould was a scruffy looking bunch of fellows with whild facial hair beyond regulation length and a the smell of powerful drink hung over them.
As he had stood there gapeing he had heard foot steps walk up beside him.

"You poor bastard" an old Commissar friend of his had said
"What?"
"You've been given to the wolves yes?" he asked
"Surely they arn't that bad?"
"No. They are worse" he laughed "they are free drinking, easy insulting, dirty, prone to not saluting and worst of all? Free thinking"
"I..."
"Good luck" the Commissar had said

Looking back, Braun had seen nothing to refute the Commissar's asesment.

Colonel McRan, sighed as the troopship at last with one final shake touched down on the landing pad.
Sighing in absolute relief at finally being on solid earth again he undid the straps of his flight seat and rose to his, brown, leather booted feet.
Carefully returning his pith helmet, the same forest green as his uniform jacket and putties, on to his crew cut head and re-donning his plaid, throwing over his left sholder he picked up his large backpack, and power sword, and tromped down the deck on to the landing pad.

Quickly scuttling down the decking on the landing pad on to the dirt and grass of the embarking yard, he fell to his knees and kissed the dirt much to the amused affection of his men, and the confused looks of the now disembarking regiments on the nearby landing pads. Savioring the flavour of the dirt.

At last he stood. Looking about him at the wonderful countryside of this agriworld, Hardant-Secondus. His long white mustache, along with his kilt, blowing in the gentle wind, he watched the other regiments disembark as his own gathered behind him.

Braun more gingerly steped off the ship and slowly followed his new commanding officer.

Along with his own 96th , the Cadian 707th and the 22nd Brelorn Royals "The Black Royals" had landed at L.Z. 2 near the capitol city of Rastump or referred to simply as "The Stump".
As he watched the splendidly black uniformed 22nd and the drab brown of the 707th gather in neat ranks. He could see the other L.Z.'s were far off, but he could still make out the other fantastically uniformed regiments at L.Z. 1 and 3.

"Looks like we are fighting with all the pretty boys sir" Remarked Vox-Op Rallorn.
"Yeah" McRan said as he watched the 96th form in to what an old Cadian friend of his had called "Warrior Bands", each company and their platoons and squads formed up into ragged mockeries of the neat squares of the 707th and 22nd.

"This freckin' wind is going to play mary hell on our coms" Rallorn added as his floppy non-regulation, oiled, canvas hat nearly blew away. Braun knew he sould have punished the Cheif Vox-Op for the uniform infraction but he was still trying to get over the smell of stale booze.

"Give the order," McRan said with a sigh.
"Sir." Rallon replied
And with that the 96th began to march.

I enjoy that sort of "history". I had painted up some RAFM minis of the Riel Rebellion a long time ago; so the begins of the regiment struck a responsive note with moi. The WWI section, as always with stories about that waste of life, was a horrifying & sad. Drawing on the history of an actual unit is a fine idea. Keep up the story & have fun painting kilts.

Chapter two:
"I still don't know how he dose it ya know?" said Captain Mach O'Hannasson, his perfectly trimed moustache, wobbling on his upper lip as be spoke "I mean how old is he now?"
"I don't know" Colonel McRan said "70? 80?"
They watched as an old man, a First Lieutenant by his rank pins, martched up and down forceing his men to greater feats of bayonet drill.
The old man was Malcolm Neilsona truely old guardsman in all respect, a true surviver, a rare thing in the guard.
In his hands was a equaly old lasgun, it's surface battered, pitted and sccared, his skill haveing diminished over the years, he was never the less useing it allmost perfectly. His first weapon was a strong tool in his hands, thrusting and slashing with ease.
The lieutenant had used the same crappy old gun through all these years, once in the Cantamatian PDF then with the 96th when it hade been founded one year and five months before. Amongst all the young lads and officers it was he who had the most expearance, allthough perhaps McRan was close to that mark haveing been in the PDF before aswell.

This was the second campaign the first one 96th had ever been in from the start. Oh sure they had fought a few brawls here and there in their last campaign but that had been at the tail end of it. Here it was dirffrent. Right at the start, with the Tau Empire stareing down at right 'em.
McRan just hoped that his lads would only fight the greys.
Well ther was a way to make sure of that.
"The boss called a meeting eh?" McRan asked
"Yeah. It'n in an hour" O'Hannasson replied
"Get 'em up and ready I want us to be there"
"It's in an hour I said" O'Hannson complained no doubt hopeing he could spend some time with his wife. A few of them had been luckly enough to take a family member with them after they had won the the camp lottrey when they had left their homeworld, that was a place amongst the camp followers or batmen as some called them.
O'Hannsson's wife had been among them.
He hated tareing his best Captain away from his now heavly pregnant wife but it had to be done.
"Do it damn you" He hissed "That hour time frame is for the lazy buggers"
***

First Lieutenant Neilson could not beleave what he was hearing and said so. Commissar Braun couldn't see what the problem was.

"... and so then our only real chance is to catch the Blue Skins off guard and then dig in around The Stump" said Lieutenant-General Varlary and Major-General Klein nodded in his agreement.
Bolth were from Brelorn and attacthed to the 22nd and 43rd Brelon Royals respectfuly by Lord-General Camervoice.
The Lord-General himself sat at the far end of the breifing table. His Dark yellow and brown Mordian uniform was perfectly pressed and starched and all his medals were handing in a neat row on his left brest.

"Mornics" Muttered Captain O'Hannson next to him
"Yeah" Muttered the Colonel and Major Greg Jennerson, who were siting in from of them at the table, in perfect unison.
Seated at the command tabble were all the higher ranked officers the colonel and majors of allthe regaments and the Lord-General's staff, all the sinor captains and leiutents were forced to take make shit seating or sit on the benches provided.
No sureprise that the captains and liuetanants Brelorn, Cadians and 31st Nelsorn Steelguard had swooped upon those like carrion birds to a corpse, leaveing the other regaments, the 96th and the 74th Malgor Rough Riders, captains and liuetenants to stand. Bloody hell that the Rough Riders and the 96th's officers were even allowed to sit at the command table was accsepted onlly grudginly by the Nelsorn and Brelorn seeing the 96th and 74th as lowborn rabble at best.

Braun clenched his fist. Questiong an superior officer! These Cantamatians were getting on his nerves. Their irevrance for their comander and their sloppy formations had made his cheeks go red. No he would have to deal with this. Just not now.

It was going to be along meeting.

"I'll skin them alive" Braun hissed as he sat with his fellow Commissars at a Stump cafe called the "Iorn Sight"
"Iorn sight?" he thought "they must like old style rifles here"

"The Cantamatian's are a pain in the arse true" Commissar Fargutsson of the 22nd Brelon said "Nothing like the Brelons, you can see it in their eyes"
"Aye" Agreed Fargutsson's Cadet. Her name was Donalsdaughter and she was a true Commissar in the making. She didn't have the capacity to forgive from what Braun heard. A trait he admired.

As he downed his first recaff and moved on to his second he looked his fellows in the eye

"What do you think I should do?"
"Oh just execute a few of them" Fargutsson said as ever his lacy agreed with him
"But that presents it's own problems" said Commissar Turno

"Hardly," Braun said "Kill enough of the cancer and the rest is manageable. You always were to soft, Turno."

"Well let's hope that your hardness won't get you killed yound man" The 150 year old Commissar replied

Braun scoffed.

It's good to see you're still at it, Amigo!

McRan watched as the trench systen thet his regiment had been tasked with diging took shape. Though they no longer waore their plaids a few still wore their kilts.
That morning he had ordered the men to change in to their forest green, red pin striped pants. Leather sholder to hip bandoliers had replaced the plaids. Fur lined blue grey Cantamatian great coats and brown leather glives had also arived upon his finding out that Hardant's winter was soon to set in. Thay came quickly as he understood, best to be ready.

"Dig faster you worthless pices of s**t" he heard Commissar Braun yell "My old age will come faster then this!"
"Hes going to get himself killed ya know" Captain O'Hannasson said looking up at his Colonel from the trench he and his command squad were helping to dig.
McRan looked down in to the sweat smeared face and the now wild moustache that had been so perfect before.
"Yes. Yes he will" McRan said stareing at the Commissar's back as he pistol whiped a guardsman for stoping to catching his breath.
"He'd better hope that the Old man lives" O'Hannasson said returning to his diging "Otherwise..." he let the threat hang
"Indeed" McRan replied

Poor Lieutenat Neilsson had woken up that morning and put on the wrong cap badge. At muster Braun had been fourious at the infraction.
"Do you think this is your homeworld you moronic, inbread scum?" Braun had asked
"No Sir" Neilson had replied
"Well then were are you then?"
"My regiment sir"
Braun's fist had slamed in to Neilson's nose.
As the man had colapsed to the dirt, his medic Gilvrey had moved to help him.
Instead on punching him too Braun, in one of the fastest side arm draws McRan had ever seen, kneecaped Gilvrey with his back up laspistol.
As Gilvrey had screamed and clutched at the ragged holes where he had formily kept his kneecaps Braun had whispered to Neilson. Sothing like "You inspired loyalty at least, so I won't kill you".

Instead he had ordered Neilson flogged with a barbed whip.
As Mcran himself had straped Neilson to the post Braun has batted away the pice of leather that Mcran ad tried to stuff in to Neilson's mouth.
"No comfort for the malifactor!!!" the Commissar had bellowed
Then much to McRan's surprise the Commissar himself took up the whip. In hinesight McRan should have not been surprised, the man seemed a hands on person.
He had kept at it, whipeing untill the whole regiment could see Neilson's ribs and hear his blubbering.

Cheif-Medic Angus said the old man would probibly die from his wounds once they got him to the medica tent..

Though he would never admit it though his hand had been twitching over his bolt pistol to blow Braun's brains out for hurting two of his men he had restrained himself. Killing the Commissar would have only brought more black coats down on his regiment. Neilson's life and Gilvrey's kneecaps were a scrafice that, had least for now curbed the Commissar's hate.

How long that would last though...

"No"
"Yes"
"No I..."
"Yes! Let. Me. In."

McRan and Angus had been at it for a few minutes and McRan was getting pissed off.

"I've been standing out here for three hours while you've worked and now your done! Let me see my best lieutenant Doc!"
"I'm sorry Colonel but I can't let you in" Angus said
"Damn you Loyd Angus MacDenton!" McRan bellowed back "Loring!" he bellowed to his color sergeant "Get me in there!"
"No! You just can't break in to a medica tent!" Angus yelled
"Stop me?"
Angus stood and stared at the Colonel
"Fine"
"Better Angus"
"You won't like what you see"
"Whatever Doc" McRan steped up the tent flap and pulled it aside....