Mutiny on the Retribution

Rules set: Battlefleet Gothic, slightly modified

Miniatures: GW Imperial Fleet, Necron Fleet

Settings:

* A conference room.

* Bridge, Imperial battleship Retribution, on-station near Human colony XJPM-61.

Dramatis Personae: An Admiral. A Captain. An Inquisitor. A Helmsman. A Signalman. Various other crew.

(Figures surround the table of a darkened conference room. A black flight-recorder box is connected to a projector by thick cables. A picture appears on the wall, showing the bridge of an Imperial battleship.)

Helmsman: Sensor section reports incoming contacts, sir. (Cups ear to brass tube.) Necrons, sir. A full battle fleet.

Captain: On Screen.

(Crewmembers adjust relay mirrors; image of advancing fleet appears on wall through overhead projection lens.)

Admiral: Alert the fleet. Prepare to engage.

Signalman: By radio, sir?

Admiral: (glances at Inquisitor) Semaphore. Oldest traditions are the soundest, what?

Signalman: (Cups mouth to a different brass tube) Need some flags on port bow! Message as follows …

Inquisitor: Is this an Eldar joint strike?

Captain: He said "flags," not "fags."

Inquisitor: Ah, quite.

Admiral: Quite.

Helmsman: Necrons appear headed toward the colony, sir.

Admiral: Alert the colonists to take precautions.

Signalman: Yes, sir. How much danger should the civilians expect?

Inquisitor: Eternal damnation and flagellation of their immortal souls.

Signalman: Sir …?

Captain: Necrons transplant people's brains and then revive them as cyborgs so they can draft them into the military.

Inquisitor: (clears throat and taps sidearm)

Admiral: You mean they suck out people's souls to power their undead machine army, don't you?

Captain: Uh, right, sir.

Inquisitor: (nods slightly)

Admiral: Range to target?

Helmsman: Five hundred twenty thousand kilometers and closing, sir.

Admiral: Fire the things that go whoosh.

(Signalman relays semaphore message; battleship and other fleet elements fire torpedoes)

Admiral: Those didn't go whoosh.

Helmsman: Space is a vacuum, sir …

Admiral: No, I mean those were the wrong torpedoes -

Captain: You don't hear the whoosh, it's a second-stage booster -

Admiral: Captain, didn't I order you to load the booster-stage torpedoes?

Captain: Yes, sir. I'll have my gunners flogged, sir. Signalman?

Signalman: (Into another tube) Floggings for the gun deck.

Helmsman: Necrons have turned to starboard. Torpedoes are going to miss.

Admiral: Just as well, then. Reload your bays, Captain.

Signalman: (Speaks into tube, listens to reply) They're all standing in line for floggings, sir.

Captain: Tell the ones waiting that they're to reload until it's their turn.

Helmsman: Couldn't we put little radios and retro rockets on the torpedoes so we could turn them when the enemy dodges?

Captain: That's enough, mister!

Inquisitor: Are you criticizing the Emperor's will?

Helmsman: I just mean we would have hit that time instead of missed …

Inquisitor: Captain, relieve this man of his post and have him stand by until after the battle.

Helmsman: Am I under arrest?

Inquisitor: No, I'm just holding you for questioning. Here, take this chain-up token to the ship's dungeon and give it to the hunchback-in-charge.

Helmsman: This says "upside down, head in toilet."

Inquisitor: Just keep flushing and you'll be able to breathe.

Helmsman: I want to talk to a lawyer. Don't we have a JAG corps or something?

Inquisitor: (shoots Helmsman in the chest.) He was resisting arrest.

(Crewmen drag Helmsman's body off the bridge.)

Signalman: (sliding into Helmsman's seat) Sir, Necrons have closed with our front line.

(On screen, lances of fire dart from the ships to glance off of the Empire's armor plating and the Necron energy screens.)

Admiral: Right. Port flank, prepare to ram.

Signalman: Right is starboard, sir …

(an Imperial cruiser's beaked prow makes contact with a large Necron ship. Sparks and loose metal fly from the Necron's hull; the Imperial ship crumples and then explodes.)

Admiral: We'd lose fewer ships if we had weapons that could kill them before they got this close, what? (Inquisitor clears throat) Speaking hypothetically, of course.

Captain: Do we have more torpedoes loaded?

Signalman: (listens to tube) No, sir. Not yet.

Captain: They've had more than enough time. Flog them harder.

Signalman: Right, sir. (into tube) Gun deck. Increase flogging.

(On screen, two Imperial ships go dark and begin to list at odd angles)

Admiral: Hel - Signalman! Report!

Signalman: (ear to tube) They're reading the semaphore now, sir … Sir, the Necrons are using a new and deadlier attack.

Admiral: What attack?

Signalman: They're teleporting onto the ships and destroying them by hand.

Admiral: (swears) Makes more sense than these damn batteries we've been firing. I wonder they didn't just send a bomb across.

Inquisitor: (glares at Admiral and raises an eyebrow)

Signalman: (ear to tube) Gun deck reporting … Does your order to flog include all personnel on gun deck, or just gunners?

Captain: Why? Who else is on that deck?

Inquisitor: Admiral, are you questioning the design of the spacecraft the Emperor has entrusted to you …?

Signalman: (conversation with tube) A group of Necrons have just shown up there, sir.

Inquisitor: … and over whose destruction you are so ineptly presiding …?

Captain: Scramble the marines!

Signalman: (ear to tube) Necrons are taking over the flogging stations. Are doing field cyborg-conversion on fallen gun crew. (puzzled expression, pushes ear closer to tube) Drink whose blood? Who is this?

(Helmsman's head, mounted crookedly on a mechanical body, enters the bridge. Begins trying to dismember an ensign.)

Admiral: Didn't you have that body safely stowed away, Inquisitor?

Inquisitor: Don't interrupt me, traitor!

Admiral: Instead of conveniently leaving it where the boarders would find it?

(Admiral and Inquisitor eye one another darkly.)

(Bridge crew are beating the Helmsman-cyborg with various tools and a length of one of Signalman's copper pipes. Dismembered ensign's screams die to a gurgle.)

(Admiral and Inquisitor both reach for sidearms. Admiral draws quickest; Inquisitor falls.)

Admiral: He was resisting arrest.

Admiral: (contemplates Helmsman-cyborg, then Inquisitor's body. Puts two rounds through Inquisitor's temple.) Pity we have no stakes and garlic. (Shoots cyborg.)

(Image fades to black.)

I don't think anyone has ever accused Games Workshop's systems of excessive realism, and Battlefleet Gothic with its "World War One in Space" theme is no exception. But they have character, and the same light-hearted feel as a decent B-movie. The game pictured here was a Necron victory that started out with the usual exchange of barely-effective fire, then some Imperial ramming that (through luck of the dice) did more damage to the ramming ships than their targets. The uber-weapon of the scenario, though, was the Necron teleporter, mainly for its ability to bypass all the armor and defenses that stop most conventional weapons. I think I asked someone at that point why, instead of sending over a boarding party to do a couple points of damage, we didn't just teleport a hydrogen bomb and blast the whole vessel. I was told to shut up and quit being rational. Silly me.

- Vynnie

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