"You're rich, You're flashy, You 'ave a proppa Orky stoutness about your belly! And you've got more big, shooty, and dead 'ard gear than any 2 other Orks put together. Da uvver orta make way for da Bad Moons."
-Blazarg Gilttoof, Flash Git
Chapter 3
Its not surprising the fusillade of gunfire didn't wake my parents. I live in the attic and it's pretty closed off from the rest of the house. Plus they snore. A steep set of steps leads down to the second floor. Commander Rerro's company were making their way down the stairs, minus a few tech marines who decide to stay behind with the two predator battle tanks and an assortment of dreadnoughts.
I catch Rerro while he is having a little impromptu meeting with his command squad. Hearing something about the living room, I lean in, my shadow makes them all look up. The commander narrows his eyes and says, "I was briefing my champions about the situation, and our forward elements are already voxing back that they have spotted imperial guard forces skirmishing with Orks. They appear to be massing in the living quarters of your domicile; from the descriptions given they are of the Bad Moonz clan."
His champions are restless and want to fight. Rerro sees me glancing at his marines and says, " Meet my closest advisors and confidants, brothers Trelis, Aquikus, Vasck, Ancient Tarax, you have already met Apothecary Caxus." The healer gives me a nod. Tarax steps forward and removes his white helm; he clutches his banner gingerly, like it's his child. Crisscrossing networks of scars mark his face, along with a sparse goatee, bleached silver like the rest of his hair. Three service studs shine dully from his forehead.
"Giant one, Apothecary Caxus assures me you are pure in body and blood, that is enough for me but you did not give us your name. What shall we call you boy? Will you fight with us?" I think it's nice that Rerro's subordinates seem more trusting than him. As for the Orks, why not? "Name's Jack and thanks for asking, let me get a few things, be right back." I hurry up the stairs and get my headlamp and metal baseball bat. My heart is pounding. On my return Ancient Tarax smiles making the scars on his face stretch and shift. Man that's nasty. "Lets go," I say. Little did I know I was about to see much worse.
The space marines' advance is a spearhead of tactical squads with assault squads on the flanks; there are a few heavy devastator squads in the mix. It isn't pitch dark tonight because it is a full moon. Against this backdrop a full-scale war is brewing between the sofas and love seats, the TV has already been pock marked by cannon and laser fire. Staccato booms of bolter fire start to spray from the Red Scorpions' line of advance, the flashes searing my retinas. Orks are milling about on and around the coffee table, trading shots with imperial guard sentinel walkers. Greenskin war bikes rip and roar around imperial guard units, slow imperial armor have yet to catch up to their infantry units.
As I watch in disbelief as a sentinel walker comes down, its leg shorn off and smoking from an Ork rokkit hit. The driver desperately pulls their body free of the crippled machine and starts to stumble away, firing a laspisol wildly. One member of a passing squad of Ork war bikes sees the limping pilot and veers alongside casually cutting the human in two with a swing of its massive cleaver. I go into sensory overload at this moment, watching the horror unfold in my living room and thinking this shit just got real very fast.
Amid the horrendous noise Major Tsalie Fleak of the 1st Januvian Lancers hurriedly orders another volley of lasgun fire to try to slow the Greenskin advance. Her power saber raises, her augmented voice easily cutting through the noise, "present" she shouts, "aim" hundreds of lasguns raise in unison. The power saber sweeps down, "fire!" The crackling snap is deafening and eye wateringly bright. As her vision clears, she takes in a breath; the volley has killed a few Orks but the majority is still coming, sporting burns on their crude, yellow armor.
"Pikes," she hollers, women with electro pikes move forward placing themselves between their lasgun-wielding brethren. Weapons are driven into the carpet, feet bracing firmly. Those with lasguns fall back behind them, turning around and fixing bayonets. There is a bone crunching impact as the Orks strike home with power claws, axes, and massive hammers. Immense handguns bang point blank pulverizing bodies and arms rip from sockets; others are crushed beneath armored boots.
Major Fleak manages to duck beneath a whistling cleaver and fires her bolt pistol point blank into the Ork's skull, evacuating its brainpan in a shower of gore. The guardswoman next to the major rams her pike into an Ork mouth, breaking several teeth. Several lasguns on full auto pepper the brute with enough bolts to turn its face into a sizzling mush. Someone panics and starts to run, Commissar Grizzwald beheads the coward with a flick of her chain blade and shouts, "No one flees this day, stand firm, and protect the colors with your lives, He is with us daughters of Venuvia!"
"Get me a vox operator, throne dammit!" Soon one appears and brandishes a vox horn. Colonel Bairo is waiting for her on the other line. Cupping her hands over the receiver, she shouts that her position is surrounded and slowly being overrun. Over the hiss of static what she hears chills her blood; hold at all costs. Hope still holds her however; the Angels of Death have been reported to the north, driving towards them. Over the screams, and gunfire the major hears another sound that lifts her spirits, the throaty roar of a Leman Russ main battle tank.
Far above the carnage, a lone figure stands silently on the old cabinet. A servo skull hovers by his shoulder clicking and whirring. Inquisitor Czevak Kremple of the Ordo Hereticus observes dispassionately, he has larger wars to fight. The game is already afoot and he will not lose. Pulling his black storm coat about him, he turns, doing a perfect about face. Inquisitorial storm troopers fall into lockstep behind him and into the belly of the waiting black Valkyrie gunship.
Okay end here, onwards and upwards, tell me what you think!