A/N

So, with Storm of Vengeance, Warhammer 40,000 is entering the MOBA space. A fact I'm admittedly "meh" about for numerous reasons, but anyway, gave me the idea for this. Might be stretching lore, but I can't see Space Marines employing their own kind as minions.

Update (13/04/14): Was revealed after posting this that Storm of Vengeance is a lane strategy game, not a MOBA. Leaving the story as-is though.

It's a MOBA World

I heard a commissar call this "MOBA warfare."

Now, you may ask, "did you hear right? Are you sure he didn't say "mobile warfare?" And to that I say, "shut up." Yeah, I might have misheard, but being sent in waves to engage the enemy isn't exactly mobile warfare is it?

So, yeah, anyway, I'm with the 809th Armageddon Steel Legion. A fact that'll probably be taken out by censors – they believe orks can read and all that – but no-one will care. All they'll remember is that grunts like us fought on Piscina IV…if we're lucky. If we're unlucky, they'll only remember the deeds of the Adeptus Astartes. The Dark Angels. Green vs. green. And…well, let me make this clear. I like Space Marines as much as the next guy, even if this chapter seemed to have a grudge against our ogryns and ratlings. But their conduct on the battlefield…well, let me give an example.

Me and the boys are moving out, as per our usual human wave tactic. As if there's some respawn counter and the Emperor Himself is bringing us back to life. Funny thing is, the orks are doing the same, their boyz coming out in droves as well. It's just the Space Marines and ork bosses seem…reluctant, somehow. Taking out the little guys, never taking any risks against each other. And to top it off, the Space Marine 'hero' fighting alongside us took out Private Minchin himself. A bolter round straight between the eyes.

"My apologies," the Space Marine said. "But I had to deny the ork last hitting."

That apparently made sense to our commissar. Or if it didn't, he gave no sign of the discontent that was rippling through our squad. Either way, the ork commander retreated, and we moved up. The Space Marine didn't come with us though, and went into some scrubland. He was going "jungling." Whatever that meant.

So, anyway, we come to a tower eventually, manned by grots. Not that grots are particularly accurate, but when you're packing that much firepower, it starts to take a toll. Yet still we charged. Still we fell. And I'm only alive because I had the sense to go "jungling" myself and avoid the carnage.

I've been here for hours, watching these human/ork waves go back and forth. That tower was eventually destroyed, but only after that Space Marine came back and attached some melta bombs to it. After that he took it out on some orks. Could be my imagination, but I swear he stopped to pick up some gold after he killed them. Maybe I'm going crazy. But if I'm crazy, how am I writing this down? Then again, why am I writing this down? Isn't this just a confession to desertion?

I don't know. But what I do know is that there's a voice in my head, shouting things like "first blood," "dominating," and "unstoppable." Weird, eh? First blood between Man and ork was shed way before the Imperium even existed, and those other terms tend to be used interchangeably between our species. Go figure.

Anyway, I ghosted the Space Marines to the ork base. I watched as they cut down every ork who stood in their way, the flow of green against the wall of green only ending when the ork structures were destroyed in not-green explosions. After that, I heard some strange chatter. Terms like "GG" and "noob." Or "newb," I can't be sure with ork speech. And…yeah. Something about another map.

Anyway, I'll probably be dead soon. Either an ork kills me, or a commissar. Heck, maybe one of the Adeptus Astartes will do the job for them. But after seeing the carnage of Piscina IV, I can only say one thing.

It's a MOBA world.