Imperial Guard Irregular Army
(Multi-World Volunteer Group)
115th Regiment of Foot
Orkbuster Battalion
Captain Jack Dempsey surveyed his men, all standing at attention at the tiny outpost. The place had been built literally overnight by the Engineer Corps who had hauled butt back to HQ as soon as they were done. Four foot insta-crete walls made a concentric system of defensive perimeters to the front. To the rear was a sheer cliff face 100 feet high. That they had gotten for free as they had built the base against the flat side of an unscalable granite monolith that jutted from the soft, rolling grassland like bone from a broken leg.
It figures. Start a colony on a nice planet in a nice area and the next thing you know Feral Orks move in. There goes the neighborhood. 10,000 Orks were on the move towards the only major human city on the planet Xulu. Dempsey's job was to help make sure they never got there. The main force was not his problem, a massive defense was being prepared for them at Islandwana. Ork war bands didn't travel all in one piece. The advance group of this "WAAAAGH!" (numbering over 2000 Orks plus assorted gretchin and Boars) was scheduled to pass by here in a matter of hours. Dempsey's job, along with barely 200 men, was to distract the group and hold their attention with a defensive stand until the main group hit the defensive perimeter at Islandwana. A few hours after that, if they happened to be alive, they could expect fire support from artillery and CAS.
The troops stood in battle uniform, black with red stripes in the manner of elite Anti-Ork troops, their faces painted green to make them look Orkish. At their sides they held the massive weapons that were the heart and soul of the squad. Orkbuster 1000 Semi-Auto guns. The guns were jet black and looked like an overgrown pump shotgun. The Mechanism was bulky and over-engineered for strength and reliability, the massive barrels ended in a one-inch bore, under which rested the 5-shot tubular magazine. The men themselves were huge too, privates and corporals never under 6.5 feet tall, all well over 300 pounds. Nobody smaller would qualify to join this company and it took 6 months of training and steroids on a high-grav world to be ready to fight in it. At six feet even, Dempsey was by far the shortest man in the company, but he fully conformed in bulk. Slung lazily in his grip was a short, double-barreled gun of the same caliber as the men's, at his hip a .50 Caliber Revolver hung from his harness.
Captain Dempsey bellowed.
"LISTEN UP MEN, MOST OF YOU KNOW ME, MOST OF YOU HAVE FOUGHT WITH ME. SOME OF YOU ARE NEW. HERE'S MY INTRODUCTION SPEECH. MOST OF YOU HAVE LOST FAMILY TO ORKS, ALL OF YOU JOINED UP TO FIGHT THEM, AND YOU CAME TO "ORKBUSTER ONE" BECAUSE YOU HATE THEM. WELL, I'M HERE TO TELL YOU THAT I DON'T. I JUST LOVE THOSE BIG BASTARDS. I LOVE THE SIZZLE WHEN I BURN THEM, I LOVE THE SPLATTER WHEN I BLOW 'EM UP, I LOVE THE HUGE HOLES MY ORKBUSTER RIFLE SHOOTS IN 'EM. I LIVE TO KILL ORKS AND THERE'S NO BETTER FUN A MAN CAN HAVE IN THIS LIFE WITH HIS PANTS ON! WHO'S WITH ME?"
There was a roar of approval that took a full minute to die down and Dempsey noticed with pride that no one flinched at the sound of pounding Ork footsteps. He bellowed again.
"YOU'VE GUESSED THE ORDER OF BATTLE BUT THE ARMY DOESN'T GUESS SO HERE IT IS. FORM THREE LINES WITH SKIRMISHERS IN RESERVE, FIRST LINE, FIRE A ROUND AND LOAD A ROUND, SECOND LINE FIRE AND LOAD, THIRD LINE SUPPORT. IF THEY GET TOO CLOSE, SHOOT THE MAG DRY TO MAKE SPACE, THIRD LINE WILL USE GRENADES TO HELP. ME AND THE SKIRMISHERS WILL PLUG THE LEAKS AND TAKE TARGETS OF OPPORTUNITY. WHEN THE ORDER IS GIVEN WE FALL BACK TO THE INNER WALL AND HOLD TO THE LAST MAN. SAME ORDER OF BATTLE."
As the Captain finished this speech there was a sudden bone chilling silence. The Orkish advance had stopped at the apex of the ridge that stood about a mile away on the other side of the wide plain that was to be the killing ground. Captain Dempsey needed no binoculars to see the leader. An impressive 8.5 foot tall Nob with antlers stuck or tied to his head. His speech to his men he did primarily for fun, to rile 'em up before the show. Morale in the Orkbusters was always high. It was sarcastic, fatalistic, deluged with gallows humor, but always high. These boys had been through too many scrapes to ever count themselves out. He picked up a microphone and flipped a switch. His next speech roared out across the plain.
"HEY ORK BOYS! I'M DEMPSEY DA CAPTAIN! I'M DA BIGGEST BADDEST OOMIE WARBOSS ON DIS 'ERE PLANET! ME AN' MY BOYS ARE DOWN HERE TA KILL YA! LAST ORK TA GET DOWN HERE IS A DIRTY SQUIG!"
The roar from the horde or feral Orks was deafening, even a mile away. On the hill top, as the mass began to move, the antlered Nob turned to the Wyrdboy beside him. "I like 'dis oomie, he shoodda be a Ork." Then the Orks charged...
The captain smiled. It didn't take much to provoke an Ork. He reached over and flipped a switch. The battle music of the company began to blare through the loudspeakers. Heavy Metal guitars recorded on some planet Dempsey forgot blasted their defiant sound at the incoming monsters.
You make promise of protection
To a future after life
To the final resurrection
And to eternal paradise...
At 1000 yards the third rank fired the mortars and the men on the big Gatling Guns set the barrels spinning, preparatory to spewing the same caliber of death as the Orkbuster rifles. The mortar shells ripped big holes in the sea of green that was coming for them. But they filled without apparent effect on the size or morale of the attackers. They were full of rage and bloodlust and dead Orks rarely bothered Orks.
But then I'm blinded with temptation
And to every mortal sin
Is it God that sits there waiting?
Or will the darkness suck me in...
Finally the Boar Boys had fought their way through to the front and were racing across the plain. Riders crazed and waving "Stikkas" (spears) and "Choppas" (stone axes). The first two ranks sighted in on the first firing distance and readied themselves. Just before first rank fired the Gatling Guns opened up, taking first blood and cutting one after another of the hundreds of Boar Boys down. Then First and Second rank began alternating fire as Third continued to operate the mortars. Orks fell and kept coming.
Lets wake up the dead
Oh yeah
Its better that never you know
More tears are shed
Oh yeah
Im praying that you'll never know
That I'm facing hell...
Private Farrell 733 was the first to die. The Boar Boys closed and the fighting became furious. One Boar Boy, leaped his squealing mount over the wall and Farrell took a choppa to his forehead, The men to his right and left blasted the Ork and Boar and a man from Third rank took his place. Two more men of First line died, one impaled by a Stikka and one took a thrown choppa in the throat, but high volume fire and grenades demolished the first wave, and the few remaining Boar Boys broke for the main force. Gunshots took half of the retreating Orks in the back.
Oh the children sit and listen
The belief was in their eyes
In a land without tomorrows
Through the night you hear their cries...
As the Green tidal wave swept forward and the Gatling Guns took their toll but the fighting became too close for the mortars. They killed and died, Orkish infantry seemed armed mostly with Stikkas, throwing them or trying to leap the wall and impale the guardsmen. Private Williams 942 died, turning for more ammo and taking a Stikka in the back of the neck, the stone spearhead jutted from his mouth. Private Kirk 221 died with a crushed skull as a massive Ork threw a round tethered stone the size of a melon over the short wall. Then the Captain lost count. Over and over the Orks made it to the wall and each time they were blasted back. Twice the Captain and the skirmishers fought breaches in the line, surging forward with chain swords and sub machine guns (.50 calibers like the Captain's pistol) to drive the Orks from the compound.
But then your eyes just skip the pages
Of a book that never ends
Is it God that sits there waiting?
Do you hear the call again?
There seemed to be a break in the fighting and there seemed to be a sigh of relief as the lines continued the rhythm of fire and load. Then they saw why. The Nob was here. The thing was a monster weighing over two thousand pounds, the antlers of some monstrous Elk-Thing were stitched to the skin of his head with some skin, (probably of the same Elk-Thing) as an intermediary in one hand he held a "Smasha" (a stone-head club) and in the other a massive Choppa. He charged through the ranks of the Orks who parted before him and fell into line behind. Play this wrong, Dempsey thought, and it will all end here. He loaded two rounds of tungsten penetrator ammo into his double barrel.
"LET HIM THROUGH!" He screamed into his battle mike. "CUT OFF THE FOLLOWERS, FIRST AND SECOND, MAINTAIN THE LINE, SKIRMISHERS AND THIRD RANK FIGHT THE BREACHERS!"
They did as ordered and the lines parted as the Nob came through, fifteen Orks came in behind him, all huge and heavily armed. The Orks that made it paid no attention as first and second line shut the door behind them, concentric fire from the Gatling Guns crushed the press of bodies that had formed up behind the Nob.
Third rank and the Skirmishers fought and died against the Ork breachers but one by one they fell. The Nob had eyes only for Dempsey. Some instinct in his tiny little brain overlooked Dempsey's stature and KNEW he was the oomie warboss. Dempsey met him head on and just out of the thing's reach he brought up his rifle. thumpthump The rifle slammed twice against his shoulder and he pumped both shells into its green-blooded heart.
He thought for a moment that it was all but the penetrator rounds cut a hole but didn't have the stopping power of the explosive rounds of the line soldiers. He gazed in stunned terror, back-pedaling wildly as the thing came on. After a few steps it fell forward, but in falling it lunged and Dempsey's heart skipped a beat as its fist closed on his foot pulling him and dropping him on his back. Dempsey's rifle skittered away and the Nob raised to his knees, raising his Choppa. The monster grinned in triumph and BAMBAMBAM Dempsey's revolver exploded into life. The first and the last shots went through its eyes and the second went right between. The massive Ork collapsed on its side.
Lets wake up the dead
Oh yeah
Its better that never you know
More tears are shed
Oh yeah
Im praying that you'll never know
That I'm facing hell...Five minutes later First Line had their backs against the second wall. Second Line was absorbed into first, only half of either were left alive, the Third line had the ammo and supplies on the other side. Some stood on the wall, tossing down grenades at the Orks and boxes of ammo to the defenders. All Gatling guns had made it to behind the wall undamaged but that had cost them lives. Dempsey gave the order.
"BAZOOKAS POINT BLANK!"
Third line brought them up from behind the second (and last) wall and fired.
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM
First line cleared the inner wall and the Bazookas gave them fifty yards beyond the outer wall.
"FALL BACK POSITIONS!!!"
As one man First line jumped the wall and seamlessly formed a second line in the tighter quarters, the Battle resumed as a force of Goff Orks joined the battle and rallied the WAAAAGH.
Its just crazy world we live in
And Im out of my mind
You pray tomorrow but your leaving today
Evil one is coming and he's knocking your door
Cause today's the day you'll pay...
The Battle raged on for 6 hours and the men kept up the fight. Dosed on stims they could fight for days without feeling the fatigue. The tighter line increased density of fire and the outer wall still slowed the Orks as they piled over. The Bazookas had been red hot when the fall back was completed and couldn't be used again at that rate of fire for fear of melting, but still they spoke in regular reassuring intervals. Time slowed to a crawl and things looked hopeful when a passing helicopter emptied a load of Napalm as it passed.
Suddenly, there was a lull. The Orks fell back out of range and everyone looked around. Murmurs swept through the lines. Dempsey racked his mind, his expert knowledge of Orks for what could possibly cause Orks to retreat without breaking. Then his mind went click. The worst had happened and a moment later his worst fears were confirmed. Towering 17 feet tall, one of the largest Warbosses that Captain Dempsey had ever seen crested the far ridge.
In the back of his mind he had known it could happen. The Warboss heard that the Orkiest fighting was over here. And so he had come. Sergeant O'Brien yelled in his ear.
"We can't let him in again, Captain, in these tight quarters he'll kill us all, and we don't have the men to retake the outer wall!" Dempsey knew this and he thought furiously. An idea sprung to mind.
"Form up half the men, fighting wedge formation, half Riflemen, half Skirmishers. We're going to attack. I'll take the point." He picked up a short-barrel 3" recoilless rifle and slammed a magazine into the top-loading rocket-gun. Hefting it onto his shoulder, he took the point.
Lets wake up the dead
Oh yeah
Its better that never you know
More tears are shed
Oh yeah
Im praying that you'll never know
That I'm facing hell...
That I'm facing hell...
That I'm facing hell...
The trip out to meet the warboss was easy. Orks allowed their bosses to fight from the front, their greater bulk and power providing the deciding advantage for those that followed them into the line.
One hundred Yards from the Warboss, the insanity of the undertaking became clear as the Orks began to encircle them. Cutting off any easy retreat. It became clear that they would go nowhere with the living Warboss behind them. The Warboss was impressive. He stood like an Ork God, making his Nobs look like Gretchin by comparison. He was obviously of the Goff Klan with a wooden helmet adorned with the horns of a bovine beast that could have skewered a Terran longhorn bull without giving the latter half a chance. His battle harness was covered in human skulls, possibly hundreds of them, his roar drowned out the other Orks, splitting the sky like thunder. In his hand he carried...there was no Ork weapon name for it. It was a petrified TREE. A stone tree trunk, broken at both ends and fully 9 feet long was gripped in his meaty fists.
Captain Jack Dempsey chambered a round and dropped to one knee, men screamed around him as the Nobs joined the fight. Chest hit, dead center, the heavy penetrator went in but had no effect. Lieutenant O'Malley charged the monster with his chain sword, trying to buy Dempsey time. It was a wasted gesture. The petrified tree hit him square in the side of the ribs with a casual backhand swing that sent him 40 feet in the air. Dempsey was glad he couldn't hear the man thump as he hit the ground, hopefully his falling body killed an Ork.
Another direct hit, and another, the hole widened, deepened but no effect as the Nobs died but the monster continued to drive on. Dempsey was abruptly blinded, he dully realized he was flat on his face, his helmet at a ridiculous angle. Sergeant O'Brien cut an Ork in half less than a foot away and he never saw. He looked up and found his gun, a few feet away and rolled to it, not bothering to get up. The thing had thrown a skull! It had been angered by the last shot and thrown one, no, probably a handful of skulls and got him in the head. He got back to his knee and his breath caught in his throat and he saw the looming thing a matter of feet away. Then he smiled. Come here you big beautiful bastard, this is the best day of my life! He fired into the hole in its chest and the warboss grinned derisively, pulled back the stone tree...and exploded.
The high explosive round went off and the monstrous Ork was blown inside-out. Captain Dempsey punched his belt to sound retreat and the remaining half of the assault force beat a fighting retreat back to the base. When they got within 200 yards they broke into a dead run when the men they left behind opened up into full fire to cover them. The Bazookas were shot into white-hot uselessness. Only built-in safeties prevented the last shot in each from going off in the barrel and killing the operators.
Finally they were over the wall and turned to fight but the Orks had no real stomach for it. For the next 4 hours they fought off weak assaults by random isolated bands who had wandered from the main force and took no casualties. The battle was no longer in doubt and at the end of 4 hours, fighter-bomber aircraft swept the field of remaining Orks.
The Battle at Islandwana had been a rout. Without the Warboss the Orkish forces were more easily broken than usual. The slaughter afterwards, aided by artillery and air power was complete. The destiny of this planet was in human hands.
As the choppers came to load up the survivors, Captain Jack Dempsey didn't care about the rest of the battle. He was thinking about the boys in training on Kronk, the heavy G world where men were eating protein and running up hills, preparing to replace the kids that died here.
Poor kids, he thought, They'll never get in a scrap as great as this one.