Death Ride of the Saimm-Hann Wildhost

   This is what is left of the Imperial City of Med Way: ruins set among the mausolea of long forgotton dignitaries in a toxin soaked desert.

   The canalised waterways are filled with a chemical stew that would dissolve a man's body in minutes, except that the canal-monsters would devour him first.
 

   Med Way is not completely uninhabited. The stunted gnome-like population eke out what passes for a living extracting strange chemicals from the poisoned soil.

   Who knows what brought the Eldar Craftworld of Saimm Hann to this accursed place? Certainly not their commander, known only as Zzzzz (apparently for tax purposes), who only turned off that almost forgotten section of the webway known to sages as the M2 to find a bacon sandwich and a mug of hot water infused with herbs and animal fats.

   Fow whatever esoteric reason, the Wildhost of the Saimm-Hann swooped onto the city like bankers looking for a bonus.

   Huddled at the far end of the chem works trying to look inconspicuous were the gallant defenders of the Med Way Militia Planetary Defence Force. They clutched their lasguns nervously and wondered if they had switched the gas off.

   The Jet Bike Riders swept ahead the Saimm-Hann heavier vehicles a whoopin' and a hollerin' to be met by a veritable son et lumière of laser fire from pistols to cannon. The barrage was more enthusiastic than aimed so inflicted few losses.

   However, it seemed to shock the foul and cowardly aliens who stopped their attack and milled about in the middle distance exchanging recipes for French peasant cuisine.

   The Eldar heavy support vessels were delayed preparing a health and safety assessment on the length of canal monsters necks. After some deliberation, and a workshop that included a fashion show of the latest styles of Ruritanian thigh boots, they decided to cross over the bridge, paying all necessary observance to local speed restrictions.

   Emboldened by the lack of resolve on the part of the aliens, the Militia started to aim their weapons, the more daring amongst them even opening their eyes when firing. Astonishingly, jet bikes exploded in the flicker of laser fire.

   The Militia Commander, known as John the Dullwit to his loyal followers, led a counter attack. He tripped over some plastic tubing and dropped his weapon, which promptly went off. Okay the safety catch was loose and he had been meaning to get it fixed but you know how it is.

   The shot vanished into the air intake of this big two-seater jet bike thingy. It made a noise like an Ogryn breaking wind and blew up.

   A lascannon shot missed its intended victim, a jet bike, and ricocheted across the complex, striking an Eldar floating tank on its thin underside as it crested the bridge. The machine dropped into the canal with a loud plop. Truly the Emperor was with the Militia.

   The remaining jet bikes withdrew and John the Dullwit was renamed John the Lucky Bastard, by his admiring men.

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   With hindsight, this scenario was wildly unbalanced and gave Stewart far too much to do while playing to the Guard's strengths - hiding in ruins and firing.