Chapter 7

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Interaction with the Eighth Legion in our sector of defense was fairly simple and effective. Shor and Freyr rallied their subordinates, setting up sabotage operations with pure terror tactics. If they spotted a juicy target, they'd call us for heavy support or lure the targets towards our defensive lines. Most of the time, it was the latter — the orks would fall for their rage and thirst for revenge, oblivious to the fact they were being led like sheep to slaughter.

This method of wearing down the ork forces proved quite effective. Not only were we grinding down large groups of orks, but we also managed to give the soldiers of the Imperial Army some proper training. But there was still a long way to go. They were good in defense, but their effectiveness in offense left much to be desired.

I was conducting another inspection of our positions when a message came from Shor, informing us of serious trouble. I had to return quickly to the command center.

"Shor, did you drag another massive tail along?" I asked as soon as I entered the command center, where stable communication could finally be maintained.

"Buri, it's really bad. We've discovered that the orks managed a rapid redeployment and are preparing to break through your section of the defense," Shor replied.

"How many of them? Infantry? Vehicles?" I requested more details.

"A whole lot of infantry. Way too much. Their vehicles are mostly light trucks and buggies. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. We also spotted huge numbers of grots being forced to prepare artillery positions, and one of my scouts saw them leveling the ground for landing strips," Shor's words made my mood plummet.

"They're getting serious. It seems they want to punch through with brute force using their artillery and air support, then follow up with a ground assault using vehicles to butcher us from behind. I'll send all the intel to HQ. Hopefully, they'll send reinforcements. How long until you arrive?" I asked Shor while issuing orders for everyone to take their positions.

"About thirty minutes. But we've got pursuers on our tail."

"Understood. Good luck. End of transmission."

"Received. End of transmission."

Finishing the communication, I began preparing for the defense. Everyone was busy fortifying firing points with sandbags. At the supply depots, a small line of corporals and privates had formed, waiting to pick up additional ammo, and weapons were being checked and quickly sighted.

The Space Marines split into two groups. One would hold the defense and command the soldiers, while the other would act as a mix of reserves and an active defense group. Some of the Marines had to be placed on the armor of Rhinos because the interiors were packed with ammunition. Risky, but the situation demanded speed over safety.

In the distance, I saw a trail of dust. It was Shor's raiding party, being chased by a large group of orks on buggies.

"We need to cut the orks off from Shor. Mortar teams, open fire! Machine gunners, be ready to finish off any orks who make it through," I ordered. Moments later, the faint thumps of mortars echoed around us.

The distance between Shor and the orks was wide enough that the blasts and shrapnel wouldn't hit our allies, and the orks, riding in lightly armored buggies, took the first losses. Shrapnel and nearby explosions damaged several buggies, while others lost some of their passengers—either killed instantly or crushed into a bloody paste by their own vehicles.

"Stupid and ruthless bastards. No sense of friendly fire at all. The buggy drivers didn't even try to avoid the orks who fell from other vehicles," Rork grumbled, cringing as the orks continued their pursuit of Shor as if nothing had happened.

"Yeah, I hoped to increase the distance between them and Shor, set up a wall of fire, and grind them down. But these creatures are too stubborn. Rork, take the missile launchers and deal with them when Shor and his men are safe. The machine gunners will cover you if needed." Rork nodded quickly and went off to find a good firing position, calling the missile team as he went.

The mortars continued firing until I ordered them to stop. They had destroyed enough buggies. The rest would be taken care of by Rork and a couple of Imperial Army machine gun crews. Once the orks crossed an invisible line, rockets flew towards them, followed by long machine-gun bursts like fiery whips lashing the orks. It took less than a minute for the pursuers to be reduced to nothing but corpses and burning wrecks.

"Send a couple of squads with vehicles to clear the line of fire. We don't want to give the enemy any chance to find cover," I ordered, and an officer saluted before heading off to carry it out. Meanwhile, Shor arrived at my position.

His armor was covered in scratches and dents, a similar state to his subordinates. But the most concerning part was that a few of his men were missing, including Freyr.

"Shor, you don't look too good. Where's Freyr and the others?" I asked, removing my helmet.

"They stayed behind. I made sure the orks chased after me, and Freyr used the distraction to go deep into their lines. So we should have eyes and ears behind enemy lines," Shor also removed his helmet.

"Hmm, not bad. And if they can destroy the enemy's air support, that would be perfect."

"Not this time. There are too many orks, and some strange ones that shoot lightning from their heads. If not for them, we could have killed all the pilots and blown up the ammo depot to wipe out their airfield. These bastards can sniff us out no matter how well we hide," Shor spat on the ground and cursed, mentioning the strange orks again.

"It seems like they're taking us seriously now. Not only artillery and air support, but also these strange orks with lightning powers. If this continues, we risk losing our positions," I remarked, standing up.

Shor spat on the ground and cursed, mentioning the strange orks again.

"Hmph, it looks like things have gotten worse for us. Not just their aviation and artillery, but these freakish orks as well," I sighed, the weight of the situation heavy on my mind.

"Hah, and you forgot about the massive horde of orks?" Shor chuckled, shaking his head.

"That's already routine. Orks always attack in mobs, flooding everything around them. Fortunately, accuracy has never been their strong point. Alright, let's head to the command center. You can file a more detailed report to the main HQ, and I'll start preparing for the bloodbath. I have a feeling this one's going to be much worse," I said as we made our way to the command center. I mentally prepared myself for what promised to be a long day.

The orks didn't make us wait long. Within hours, our positions were under heavy artillery fire. The orks spared no shells, and the bombardment didn't stop for even a second. We were only saved from being turned into fine dust by our fortified positions and deep trenches. But even then, we started taking losses. A large-caliber shell struck one of the bunkers, punching through the roof and incinerating an entire infantry squad. Another exploded near one of my Space Marines, and though his power armor saved him from death, he was left grievously wounded and forced into a life-saving coma.

Finally, the shelling ceased. Deafened and covered in dust, the soldiers took their positions, prodded on by their officers. But there was still no sign of the orks. Yet we could hear them—the roar of hundreds, maybe thousands of throats, accompanied by the pounding of drums and celebratory gunfire into the sky.

"Good thing most of our soldiers are half-deaf now. Otherwise, they'd be pissing themselves hearing that racket," Rork said as he stood beside me, holding a missile launcher.

"Yeah. But you know, it doesn't scare me. In fact, it fills me with strength. I want to break them. I think I'm starting to pick up some bad orkish habits," I replied, my words earning a few chuckles from the others. "Alright, to your positions. Let the battle begin! Hurrah!"

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" The Space Marines echoed my cry, our war chant serving as our answer to the orks.

The first ork squads rushed at us on bikes and buggies—yet another vanguard force. While there were more of them than last time, they didn't make it halfway to our positions before they were wiped out. Smoking wrecks and corpses littered the field.

But this time, there was no pause. After the first wave, a second came, then a third, and it continued until the orks finally reached our lines. That's when the real fight began.

The soldiers fired, stabbed with bayonets, lobbed grenades, and scorched the orks with flamers. But the orks weren't giving up. With their crude axes, they butchered anyone they got close to. Their ugly pistols spat bullets that could punch fist-sized holes, and their poorly-made grenades, used more like clubs, would explode unpredictably, taking down anyone nearby within a few meters.

But the soldiers didn't falter and fought on, bolstered by the Space Marines fighting beside them. Like breakwaters against a raging sea, the Space Marines stopped the orks from breaking through. A bolter shot would blow a tough nob's head apart, a knife enhanced by power armor would sever an ork's arm, followed by a swift decapitating strike.

Heavy bolters, lascannons, and missile launchers prevented the orks from using their heavy vehicles to crush our defense, raining down lead and lasers. Yet the orks kept pushing. The defenders started losing ground, retreating step by step, though exacting a heavy toll on the orks for every inch.

"Breakthrough on the right flank!" the comms officer shouted.

"Send the active defense squad. Let them drive the orks out and then launch a quick counterattack on the flank of the ork's central wave. That should buy us enough time for the reserves to reinforce," I ordered, marking the ideal spot for the counterattack.

"Observer reports enemy walkers! They're advancing right up the center!" This time, there was clear panic in the comms officer's voice.

"Damn it! I'm moving out! Direct any squad with lascannons or missile launchers to the walker advance!" I barked as I dashed from my position.

I had no reserves left to stop the ork walkers. Regular soldiers would either be gunned down by their heavy weapons or torn apart in melee combat. I had no choice but to engage with my command squad, thankful that we at least had a heavy bolter and a meltagun at our disposal.

We arrived just in time, as the ork walkers came into view. Luckily, it was mostly Killa Kans with just a couple of Deff Dreads. That gave us some chance of success.

"I'll try to disable the hydraulics or weapon systems on the Deff Dreads. The Kans are all yours. Burn them with the meltagun and lob some krak grenades! To battle!" I shouted as I rose from cover, focusing my fire on the nearest Deff Dread.

I had to concentrate a tremendous amount of fire on a single section of armor, gradually eating through it. Eventually, I managed to cripple one of the walker's legs, sending it crashing to the ground.

But before I could feel any relief, the second Deff Dread unleashed a volley of rockets and large-caliber rounds in my direction. I frantically fired, managing to detonate one of the rockets mid-air, but the heavy rounds threw off my aim. One rocket hit my position, erupting like a massive explosive shell. I was thrown aside, and a shower of shrapnel pinged off my armor.

"Commander!" I heard faintly, as if I were underwater.

"I'm alive! Keep fighting!" I shouted back, shaking my head to clear the ringing as I opened fire on the Deff Dread, which, having assumed I was dead, had turned its attention to the other Space Marines.

My heavy bolter fired a few long bursts, just enough to draw its attention, before jamming. A quick inspection revealed damage to the ammo feed, and my ammo pack was riddled with shrapnel. Only luck had prevented the bolts from detonating.

I was forced to ditch the now-useless pack and abandon my heavy bolter. All I had left was a bolt pistol, a chainsword, and a couple of grenades. I was already steeling myself for a suicidal charge when I heard the crack of a lascannon and the hiss of a plasma gun.

The lascannon hit one of the Deff Dread's fuel canisters, causing it to explode, splashing burning promethium everywhere. The ork pilot, caught off guard, started thrashing around in panic as he burned alive, and a Space Marine with a meltagun took the opportunity to put him down with a precise shot.

Meanwhile, the plasma shot struck the immobilized Deff Dread, and a bright explosion marked its destruction. The grots piloting the Killa Kans were demoralized, having taken casualties and now watching their leaders fall. They decided to flee, sparking panic among the orks. A counterattack from the right flank sent the remaining orks into a disorganized retreat.

We could have celebrated victory, but the orks had one last spiteful act—they called in their air force, which bombed us mercilessly. That's when my company took its heaviest losses, and the Imperial Army forces lost at least half their strength.

That evening, as the battle lulled, I sat before the tactical map, trying to figure out how to deal with the ork air force that could bomb us into oblivion.

"Shor, we need to deal with their air support. Otherwise, any future victories will be Pyrrhic. If we even have any more. I've already lost too many men."

"We could call in support from the fleet, but Freyr spotted heavy anti-air and anti-orbital defenses. And those strange orks are still preventing any sabotage."

"Hmm. That leaves us with only one option—taking the risk and launching a raid with my entire company."

"Judging by how you're studying that map, you already have a plan."

"Yeah, and it's crazy enough that it just might work."