Chapter 8: Shields

The deafening blare of the alarm sirens resounded everywhere in the peninsula, from Epidamnus to the Trench Line Prima.

The citizens of Epidamnus, still in the middle of the evacuation, rushed towards the harbour, overwhelmed by fear. Panic generated unrest and anarchy, which the Arbites dealt with extreme, brutal efficiency, lest it hindered the only thing that might save these people.

Outside the walls, the few workers remaining, still in the midst of finishing the last defensive elements of trench line Ultima, quickly retreated back to the city. In contrast, the soldiers of the Imperium, both from the Arbanian regiment and the Kanrilian Planetary Defence Forces, hurried outside towards their assigned position in the three main lines. From the sky, they resembled a swarm of ants, leaving their nest. Earthshaker cannons and other artillery weapons were positioned near the walls and across the various lines, and the ones with the longest range were already beginning to shoot at the ork army still far away. As impressive as they sounded when they fired, their effect was minimal, like drops of water trying to put out a raging fire.

Commissar Merneith observed all this, as she walked across the Prima line, with cold, harsh austerity. She didn't miss the many oversights made by several of the men, mostly from the PDF forces, and in other circumstances, she would have reprimanded them severely. But considering the limited time they all had at their disposal, she desisted from carrying thought. The upcoming battle will be harsher than any punishment she could give them.

She briefly directed her glance to the horizon and the enemy horde: the distance was still considerable, but the numerous fires and smoke columns coming from their vehicles, as well as the massive dust cloud they raised while marching, already provided a solid idea of how outnumbered they were. What gave her more pause, however, was that, even in the cacophony of noises around her, if she listened carefully, she could already hear, in the background, the howling of the greenskins and the rumble of their hideous and ramshackle machines, still faint but growing with each minute.

"They… they are endless. H-how are we supposed to hold them off?!"

She paused her walk upon hearing those words and looked at the man who had spoken them. Judging from his turquoise uniform, he was from the PDF, and looking at the awkward way some of his companions held their autoguns, it was safe to assume they were part of the new conscripts. People who had been civilians until a few days prior. She also realized that, while those fears and doubts were expressed in words by a single mouth, they were shared by all those present nearby. When they saw her, several averted their eyes, ashamed of having shown their unease in front of her. She wasn't surprised: the members of the Officio Prefectus had a certain reputation, even outside the Astra Militarum. But the one who spoke, as well as others, held their gaze, their expression pleading for an answer.

She considered carefully what to do: the more humane part of her heart understood perfectly their wavering, especially considering their lack of experience with war, but her pragmatism, born after years of rigorous training at the Schola Progenium and decades of brutal combat across the galaxy, which dominated every aspect of her life, urged her to stop this lack of conviction, in order to avoid it spreading through the ranks of the PDF conscripts and put the entire defense system in jeopardy. Many of her colleagues, the more dogmatic and zealous ones, would have shot the soldier, and any other who agreed with him, on the spot, without second thoughts, instilling into the others a belief in their cause and duty through fear. While that could be an effective method under certain circumstances, having experienced it first-hand on several occasions during her career, in this case, after noticing a certain detail of the man in question, she opted for an alternative approach.

"What's your name?"

"G-Grid, ma'am."

"I see you are wed with someone." She then continued, pointing at the ring in the man's finger.
"And considering how young you are, I'll say you haven't been so for long."

The soldier furrowed his brow quizzically, puzzled at the seemingly incongruous question.

"Y-yeah. Her name is Teti, and we married two years ago. We also have a son a few months old."

"That is wonderful. Family is truly a wondrous thing, and I believe its bonds are the greatest gift we, as humans, can ever have." Merneith answered, a surprisingly kind smile forming as she spoke, seemingly out of place for someone bearing her role
She paused for a moment, looking at the mainland.

"Do you know what the orks usually do to the Imperial citizens they come across after they win?"

Silence.

A simple question made the blood of everyone present run cold, as they inevitably thought of their loved ones in that situation.

"A good part of them will just be butchered and killed on the spot, just to satiate the greenskins' bloodlust. I'll say that this is the most merciful fate they could have: that way, their suffering will quickly be over. Not everyone will be so lucky, however." Sharifa continued talking in a calm, detached way, which made the whole situation a lot eerier. "Many are going to be taken as slaves, and they are either going to be worked to death, or tortured in the most bizarre and brutal ways, for the simple reason of killing the orks' boredom. Then we have those who are going to be eaten."

That was where true horror formed inside their mind.

"Many years ago, I was part of the liberation force that freed the planet of Titus VI, who had been previously conquered by an ork invasion. When we assaulted their main stronghold, I accompanied the men entering one of its buildings. We believed it was a weapon or ammunition storage. It was a cattle barn. Hundreds of men, women, and children, sedated by drugs and fattened like we do with grox or other livestock. Their eyes… Those beings…they weren't human anymore."

She approached the terrified husband and father until she stood right in front of him "You ask how are we supposed to hold them off. My answer is: with everything we got. I could tell you must do it because your superiors ordered it, or because the Emperor and the Imperium demand you to. But we all know that deep inside, you are doing this for them." The commissar delivered, whilst pointing at the soldier's ring. "You fight to the last so that they might have a chance to avoid those horrible fates."

After those words, Merneith could see the change in the heart of the soldiers listening. Fear was still present, of course, but eliminating it wasn't her objective. These men weren't the Emperor's Angels of Death, for whom fear is an alien concept. For regular humans like them, fear is not evil. It allows one to understand one's weakness and, once knowing it, to overcome it and become stronger. What she did was give them a purpose to not let terror control them. She could notice them holding tighter their weapon and looking more determined to protect their loved ones. These men will not shrink away from their duty.

"What you ask of us, it's suicide."

Well, most of them won't. The words, almost a whisper, but still heard by everyone present, came from just one conscript, who didn't seem to be moved at all by her words.

Sharifa sighed internally. She understood what type of man he was in an instant. A poltroon. Consumed entirely by fear. One who did not care about anyone except himself. No amount of speech she could give would sway him to do the right thing.

"Then leave. The last thing we need is a coward who won't watch his brothers and sisters' backs when the moment comes. Go away, if that's what you want."

The man hesitated, before hope for his own self-preservation overwhelmed him, and turned to run.

As he did so, Commissar Merneith took her bolt pistol from its holster and shot him through the head, his skull exploding. Then, without saying anything, she walked away, ready to inspect the morale in the next platoon. The men she left behind quickly got over the death of the deserter, their focus entirely on what was to come. She was a commissar. It was her duty to enflame the weak, support the wavering, and guide the lost. But she will not hesitate to punish the incompetent, the cowardly, and the treasonous. She could only pray to the Emperor that the cowards beyond redemption would not be many.

⁓

The battle would begin in a few minutes. The xenos horde, only about five kilometres away from Prima, was in full view now, marking their passing with an explosion of noise. The howls grew closer. Slowly, inexorably closer.

"O soldiers of Kanrilia, of Arbanon, of the Imperium."

The voice of General Kastriot, who stood in the front line, suddenly boomed, carried across all the battlefield by virtue of its own strength, only relayed by servo-skull in the furthest reaches of trench Prima.

"The almighty God-Emperor could not present you all today a better opportunity, he could not offer to such burning hearts and passionate soldiers, a more beautiful opportunity than the one that he is rightfully giving you all now, to seize your weapons against this despicable and hateful foe, marking this day forever with the high example of your loyalty towards Him, as well as towards all Mankind. Up to now, you have fought for victory and the honour of the Imperium, in this world and beyond. Now you all must fight for salvation, for freedom, for the soil of your forebears. I am resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all. While we stand together no invader shall pass. Let the Orks come with their unending armies; they will not pass! And when this day of battle is over, we meet again on the Emperor's side or on the field of victory!"

A warcry erupted from the Imperial line. For an instant, it even drowned the foul screams of the greenskins. The orks, now enticed by the human shouts of defiance, were now running at full speed, each one of them trying to surpass its brethren in the hopes to be the first one indulging in long-awaited war.

As the first bikes and squiggoth riders were less than three kilometres from the trench, a clicking sound went unnoticed as they stepped on something, concealed on the ground.

Then the explosions began, and hell broke loose.

⁓

"So, to summarize Lieutenant Bajramaj's report, a greenskin army, comprised of both feral orks and xenos from off-planet, vastly outnumbering our current forces, is coming to Epidamnus a few days from now"

Kastriot looked at everyone present in the meeting, which included officers from both his regiment and the PDF forces, as well as the Planetary Governor, Judge Alulim, leader of the Adeptus Arbites, and representatives from the major industrial and commercial companies, who could provide their own private armed groups. The majority of them, much to the general's relief, seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, judging from their faces when looking at either him or the documents and data-slate detailing all the information obtained from Ismail's testimony. Unfortunately, there were a few who seemed to severely underestimate the greenskin threat, and their most illustrious candidate was none other than Marshal Ubam. Kastriot decided to ignore them, as long as they didn't cause any trouble, and could only pray to the Emperor that they would come to their senses on this matter.

"If the city had been built on the Iraki Mountains, the impact of their superior number would have been greatly lessened, as we could have used the terrain, as well as our regiment's expertise in mountain warfare, to our advantage. Unfortunately, we find ourselves on a coastal plain, where their numerousness will have the maximum effect."

"The only advantage we have," he then continued, as an hololithic map of the Ishem Isthmus appeared in front of everyone "is that the enemy can only come from one direction if they want to reach the city. There is no risk of being surrounded. So we have to take advantage of this."

He then nodded to the servo-skull, who proceeded to input something on the hololithic projection. On the map of the isthmus three major lines appeared outside the walls.

"We are already beginning the construction of three major trench lines and fortifications, which will act as the main lynchpins of our defensive network. However, we cannot stop there."

Eskender turned its attention to the Governor and the industrial representatives present.

"Our regiment's enginseer is already making contact, as we speak, with all the industrial complexes of this city. For the next days, every factory available, leaving aside the few ones indispensable to keep the citizens and the soldiers fed, will be repurposed for the production of not just weapons and ammunitions for our men, but also explosive charges, firing mechanism, igniter, as well as promethium refinery."

Everyone with even a bit of knowledge in weapon manufacture understood what those components could make. While the general spoke, on the hololithic map the areas between the trench lines, and the one in front of the most external one began filling with countless bright dots.

"We are going to make the orks pay heavily with their blood for every inch of ground they take".

⁓

In front of Line Prima, a raging inferno engulfed the orks. Mines were triggered every second, each one causing an explosion that scattered shrapnel and xenos body parts to the four winds. Pre-set strips of promethium were ignited as a consequence, generating walls of flames that either burnt alive entire packs of greenskins, or trapped them in a prison of fire and smoke. The horde's momentum was disrupted as some of its constituents were torn apart, others burnt or blinded, shrapnels tearing scars across green flesh. Their vehicles weren't spared either: wartrukk and battlewagons were eviscerated by the detonations, their mangled bodies turning into yet another obstacle in the field. A battlefortress, one of the main Super-Heavies in the orks' possession, was caught by three simultaneous discharges, too. And while their impacts didn't seem to have damaged the vehicle's armour in any considerable way, it had luckily compromised its driving system: the gigantic armoured wagon began turning to its left, its full-speed charge no longer directed to the trench line and the human defenses, but towards its fellow brethren. It ran over and killed hundreds of greenskins before it was destroyed.

A normal foe would have hesitated as it witnessed such destruction, that would surely affect its morale. But everyone who fought them knew the orks were not a normal enemy. Despite the devastation around their ranks, laughter and howls of repulsive glee escaped their mouths. Maybe it was the months of inaction that caused them to remain unaffected by their losses, now that conflict was finally before them. Or perhaps it was simply their nature, unchanging since before mankind even left their homeworld. Regardless of the reason, the result was that, from the flames and smoke, the horde appeared in front of the trench. In response, a dazzling fusillade of las-beams, bullets, and artillery shells greeted the unruly mass and cut down a hundred of their number in seconds.

It was nowhere near enough. Many more just howled and raged, shrugged off their wounds, and kept on coming: and, for each that fell, another ten poured out of the minefield behind them. The orks formed a solid phalanx of heaving green sinew – which at least meant that the Arbanian guardsmen and the Kanrilian troopers didn't have to lose too much time aiming their weapons –. Most switched to automatic, letting off bursts of firepower, confident that almost all would find a mark. Heavy bolters chattered fiercely, and every orkoid caught in their arc of fire were shredded. Several who survived the fires of the minefield had no respite from that fate, as they were cremated by heavy flamers.

A good portion of the enemy troops were comprised of feral orks, and they didn't have the time to bring their primitive weapons to bear on the human defenders before being killed.
But they kept coming...

Moreover, the off-worlder orks were far better equipped and had their own ranged weapons. Even with their typical unreliable aim, several still found their mark, taking the lives of dozens men and women.

Blood was spilled on both sides. The battle of Ishem Isthmushad truly begun.

⁓

"Dose stupid gits! Dat's wot ya get when ya charge head on. Typical gorkers..."

Grizgol watched from afar the carnage in front of the human defence line, not without some amusement.

"Wot are we gunna do? We wil miss'n da fight."

One of the underlings accompanying the Nob expressed with words what was on everyone's mind. Everyone in Grizgol's band, be it feral or not, was impatient to fight, regardless of the traps set by the humies, and only the authority of their leader was keeping them at bay.

"Mork teaches us ta use our 'eads before a fight. See 'der?" he asked while pointing at the shore.

"Da wata iz low 'der, an da 'umiez kould not have put bombs 'der, 'cos da waves will set em off. So, while dey are busy fight'n' 'da otha boyz, we will kross from 'der an' attack em from 'da side!"

Just as he said that Grizgol jumped on its warbike and, after shouting a thunderous "WAAAAGH!", started the engines and went full speed, soon followed by his gang. Dozens of fast ork vehicles, followed by a lot more squig riders and greenskins on foot, diverted from the main assault on the center of the human line, instead of moving towards the enemy by running along the seashore.

Wheels and feet were submerged on the shallow waters and no mine was set off so far, seemingly giving credence to the Nob's reasoning. A malicious grin formed on Grizgol's face, the ork already anticipating the fight ahead and reveling on the looks the humies would have, realizing they had been outsmarted.

A flash of light, coming from the sea and reflecting on its googles, interrupted those pleasing mind images. Grizgol looked towards the waters and discerned the shapes of boats, likely the ones used by humies for fishing.

'Why did they leave them there?' As it looked at them closer, Grizgol noticed that the flashes generated from the sunset light reflecting on something mounted on the ships' decks.

'Wait, were those kann-' Every other thought the Nob could have had was interrupted by a loud bang, soon followed by its death, caused by a cannon shot obliterating its vehicle.

⁓

"General, the usage of minefields in front of each trench line is sound, but what about the coastline?" Judge Alulim at one point interjected, grabbing the attention of the interested party, as well as everyone else present.

"Setting mines, explosives, and other defensive measures there will be more arduous, because of the precariousness of the terrain and the water. That could create a weak point in the entire defense network."

Kastriot nodded, glad that there were people outside his regiment with a flexible and critical mind, not afraid to challenge his plan with valid observations.

"You are right, that is a significant problem. But I believe to have a solution." Eskender then turned its attention to the commercial representatives.

"We have several fishing boats and ships currently in the harbour, right? We can mount cannons and other ranged weapons, and position them to guard these specific areas, as mobile fortresses."

He looked at the map, which generated several pointers in the waters near the coast. "We are forced to fight near the sea, so we will use it to our advantage."

⁓

Despite being in the hot season, the water was terribly freezing. That cold, mixed with the greenskins' confusion and blood, created a surreal experience.

It was total chaos: cannon shells whizzed over the orks' heads; the boats, who up until days prior had only experienced trawl nets filled with marine animals, were now drowned by the loud sounds and stink of cannons constantly firing at the aliens. Grizgol's gang tried to respond in kind, but the distance, the targets' mobility, and the suddenness of the attack made any retaliation next to impossible. The few who survived the onslaught retreated from the beach, ironically back to the greater madness of the battlefield their leader was trying to avoid.

⁓

The battle in front of trench Primaraged on.

Minutes stretched like hours amidst the destruction and death. The xenos suffered heavy casualties, but it was a testament to their vast number and unquenchable desire for war, that despite that, they still kept coming. On and on.

And because of that, it was no wonder that the orks began pouring inside the trenches. First it was only sporadic individuals, isolated and quickly gunned down before they could even swing their stone axes and rusty blades. But then their number increased until the valiant Imperial soldiers had to split their attention between enemies coming from outside and ones from within the defense lines.

"Almighty God-Emperor, Who delivered Your people from the bondage of the adversary, and through Your Servants cast down the enemies of Mankind like lightning, deliver me also from the hands of these unclean aliens.''

The young Gidim, previously a 14 years old boy ready to start working with his father on the sea, now a newly recruited conscript in the Kanrilian Defence Force, kept muttering this prayer, taught to him by the priest of his home district, over and over, to give him courage in the middle of this horror unfolding around him. What scared him most, more than the fire, the explosions, and the madness of the battle, was their inhuman howls. And the fact that he had begun hearing them coming not just from the front, but also from the sides. He kept shooting, whenever he discerned a shape in front of him, but he couldn't tell if he was actually killing them or not. One of them ran towards his squad. He took his shot, took several shots, but his target failed to drop. It kept on coming, growing larger and larger until it felt as if it filled the boy's vision as if it was all he could see. Gidim felt his breath growing short and his heart freezing with terror, and he swore he was reciting the prayer louder.

"It has my gun!" The cry went up from one of the soldiers to his right. His weapon was being pulled by the injured ork, who reached the edge of the trench, dragging the man with it. Even bloodied, the alien strength was formidable, and Gidim, with a couple of others, rushed to balance the sides of the unequal struggle. The boy grabbed his comrade's shoulder, pulling as much as he could.

Then suddenly the feral ork surrendered its prize, and the soldiers pulling found themselves sprawled in the dirt. Gidim saw from the corner of his eyes another guardsman spearing the back of the alien with his bayonet, and he heard the xenos' final yelp before dying.

As he and his comrades were still getting up, several thuds caused the ground to shudder. A group of orks, more well equipped, had made it into the trench, taking advantage of the tug-of-war and the momentary lack of defense in that area that it caused. Gidim fumbled for his gun, but he instinctively knew he wouldn't grab it in time, as the greenskins were employing their weapons and rushing towards them. No longer were the xenos held at a comforting distance. They were here, right in front of him. He was helpless to stop them.

A particularly big specimen was menacingly approaching him. It was clad in crude armour, its axe ready to spill blood. Then, all of the sudden, the ork crashed on the ground, one of its legs melted by a ball of plasma. Gidim could see the unmistakable figure of General Kastriot, holding a plasma gun, still reverberating with energy. The man didn't leave the greenskin a chance to get up, as he quickly ran towards it and impaled it with his power sword, followed by a swift decapitation.

A group of Arbanians had soon arrived, engaging with the band of xenos, but the young boy's attention was entirely transfixed on the old general. He saw Eskender killing any ork who tried to attack him; he evaded, parried, or deflected the aliens' blows. He then used feints to disorient them, before finally attacking, each slash a fatal move. Despite their superior strength, he was able to overcome them with his higher skill in battle.

"Get up, young man." Kastriot then said, turning his attention to him and lending a hand. "It seems your duty to the Emperor and His people is not fulfilled yet."

Days prior, Gidim remembered some of the conscripts criticizing harshly – obviously in private – the higher members of the military, the Governor and the nobles, who sent common men like them to face these monsters, while they remained safe behind. Now, in front of him, there was the man who was probably the most important authority on the planet at the moment, someone who normally would lead countless regiments from behind, safe from the real battle. But instead, he was here, in the front line, battered, fighting in the mud and dirt next to the lowest of soldiers.

"T-thank you, sir.'' The boy answered, as he awkwardly took the general's hand and got up.

"You may thank me when this is all over. It is in this moment that the real battle has begun. Now, take the rest of your squad and anyone else nearby and move to the nearest tunnel. Begin redeployment to line Secunda."

Gidim didn't let any doubt or question he might have hindered him, as he quickly nodded and moved towards his companions. As he proceeded, he kept muttering the same prayer as before. But this time he didn't do it just to quench his fear. After witnessing the general, admiration and the desire to emulate his courage turned those words into a mantra for his conviction and faith.

The general observed them for a moment, before turning his attention to the battle around him.
He allowed himself an instance of contemplation, as the traces of war soaked his very being. The air was filled with smoke and blood. Flashes of light and clouds of dust obscured his vision. The screams and the noises of weapons reached his left ear, while the right was constantly interrupted by vox communications and inputs from across the battlefield. And listening to those, it became clear that while the minefield had bloodied the xenos, the number of orks entering the trench was increasing with each minute. Soon the situation will become unmaintainable, and the entire line will collapse.

Kastriot activated his vox-link, opening an encrypted channel that would supersede all other Imperial communications in the area.

"This is General Kastriot speaking: initiate withdrawal action. Codename Auximum."

⁓

"Auximum?" Asked one of the Kanrilian officers.

"The name derives from one of the main cities in our homeworld." Kastriot answered. "It was ancient, older than the Imperial colonization during the Great Crusade. The city was famous for its vast, underground network of tunnels that stretched for thousands of miles across the continent."

Seeing as a few of the members present didn't seem to have connected the dots, he elaborated further.

"The tactics we have talked about so far will certainly thin their numbers, but I think we all know that, at some point, they will swarm the first line to such a degree that we cannot defend it anymore. So we need a safe and rapid way to redeploy our troops to Secunda and Ultima. For multiple reasons, we cannot just retreat from the surface: not only we will be chased by the orks, we would also stumble in the traps we have set in the zone between Prima and Secunda, as well as the one between Secunda and Ultima. We want the orks to trigger them and suffer heavy casualties, not our own men."

"That is why my enginseer Restion, already coordinating with his colleagues on the planet, is beginning the construction of several subterranean tunnels that will link together the three trench lines. This will provide a swift route for our soldiers, without the danger of the mines and defensive measures located on the surface."

As he spoke, the hololithic map was updated with this new info, as several paths were generated, linking the three defense lines together.

"That is all well and good," Marshal Ubam suddenly interjected, "but wouldn't their existence benefit the greenskins as well? They could just follow us from there and evade the minefields, too."

The marshal barely hid the glee he was certainly feeling at the moment, elated for the chance to point out an error in the general's plan, thus discrediting him in front of everyone. In response, the general remained imperturbable and calmly explained how the usage of the tunnels will be denied to the xenos.

⁓

When Kastriot finally reached one of the tunnels, the situation on Prima had reached the breaking point. The orks had swarmed the trench and the Imperial defenders that still hadn't retreated were amassing on the tunnel's entrances. Welcoming them there, they found heavy weapons emplacements and turrets, providing covering fire that held the greenskins at bay.
The underground passage Eskender reached was defended by a squad of his regiment, recognizable for the bull of a man, wielding a Solar Pattern Heavy Bolter, with almost the same ease as a Space Marine would.

"General Kastriot" The shout of Qemal could be picked even in that deafening confusion of war. "We thought you were already on Secunda".

"Couldn't leave when most of my men were still here, soldier." He looked around and, unable to find him, asked: "Where is your sergeant?"

As if to answer that, a hulking brute with a Big Choppa was able to bypass the suppressing fire, and came dangerously close to striking the general from behind.

If not from a long-las shot hitting him dead center in the forehead, which vaporized its brain.

"Do not worry, sir." Delmina added. She was focused entirely on firing with extreme efficiency at the orks in front of her, yet still sporting a grin. "As you just witnessed, he is covering our backs just fine."

Kastriot nodded, impressed once again by the man's marksmanship. The fact that he wasn't anywhere nearby made it even more impressive. The general remained there, adding his firepower and waiting for the last men to enter the tunnel. After that, he joined Ismail's squad in the rearguard as they, at last, gained access to it, always training their weapons to the entrance and firing to keep the xenos at a safe distance. They all began a fast march underground that lasted for several miles; in their passage, they received aid from automated turrets and gun-servitors, positioned on regular intervals, providing additional fire to keep the aliens at bay, which despite that, had already entered the gallery and chased them from afar. Finally, they reached the other side, as it was clear from the soldiers already there urging them to come quickly and began firing as well.

"Restion, how is the situation in the tunnels?" Kastriot voxed to his enginseer, as he exited the subterranean path.

"Evacuation has already been completed on all other passages. Yours is the last one, general."

Eskender turned his gaze back to the tunnel. He could already make out the shapes, hundreds of metres away, of orks, gretchins, and squigs, running straight at them despite the enemy fire.

"Alright, Restion. Bury them alive."

Following his order, and an electronic impulse from the tech-priest, countless explosive charges inside the ten tunnels detonated simultaneously. The subsequent blasts destabilized their structure, causing the total collapse of all the underground passages.

Needless to say, countless orks, already inside them, were eliminated, as they were either vaporized by the explosives or crushed to death by tonnes of rocks and dirt falling on their heads. The greenskins on the other side, on the newly conquered trench line Prima, bellowed in a mix of outrage and challenge. The more eager ones were already beginning charging from the surface straight ahead. The barrage of artillery welcomed them, while mines and explosives were triggered.

The area in front of line Secundaturned into another inferno, just as it had in front of Prima.
Still, the orks pressed on undaunted, in a seemingly endless tide of green.

The battle was far from over.

⁓

"These are the main phases of the defensive plan. In the following days we will go into details on specific issues based on particular locations or troops involved. Now, however, I want to address the most important aspect we need to consider."

The general paused, as the officers and officials present all focused back on him.

"If we want to hold them for as long as possible, much less win, against this xenos invasion, remaining passively on the defensive isn't going to be enough. The only real defense is active defense. Might sound simplistic, but most of the time the simple concepts are the truest. Our main purpose should be counter-attacking and taking the offensive is such a way as to hinder the enemy's own ability to harm us."

"We cannot do that directly, in a frontal assault, due to the disparity in our forces. So we need to opt for the usage of elite strike forces, capable of eliminating strategic enemy units - such as heavily armoured vehicles, powerful weapons, greenskin leaders and, most importantly, the warboss itself - whose removal would diminish their strength and especially cripple their coordination."

"We have our shields that will fend off the enemy's blows. Now we need our spears, capable of reaching and piercing their brain and heart."

⁓

The sound of threads, strangely unhindered and unaffected by the mines, echoed across the field.
The Arbanon's Vengeanceand its squad were going to war.

⁓

A hooded woman, holding a staff, walked towards a mob of greenskins.
Sparks of lightning, coming from a realm of thoughts and nightmares, began to form between her fingers.

⁓

A group of ork bikers noticed the shadows of men coming from above them.
The noise of jets and the crack of hell-guns would be the last things they experienced.

⁓

For the men in one of the eastern segments of Secunda, death was coming.
And it bore the form of a hideous Ork walker. The few veteran Arbanians who had met such monstrosity knew that it was a Mega Dread. For all the others, its name was not important, and the only thing that mattered was that nothing seemed to halt his advance.

As the hydraulic system in its legs hissed with power and propelled the vehicle forward, the walker was constantly hit by las-shots, which barely left a mark. Even the mines didn't seem to stop it, and its pilot was even smart enough to shoot volleys from its huge cannons on the ground in front of it, so as to trigger any explosives before the Mega Dread could walk into them. The deafening sound of its Kill Kannons was like sweet music to the orks following just behind it, and they shouted with ecstatic glee after each shot.

Suddenly, a Scylla light tank moved at full speed towards the walker. Its autocannon fired explosive shells that strafed the xenos engine's front. The walker momentarily staggered and, taking advantage of its hesitation, the tank rammed it with extreme force. Its intention was to make it fall and run over it, and for a moment, a flicker of hope ignited in the hearts of the Imperials nearby. Hope that was quickly dashed when the Dread, regaining its bearings, used the claws in its right arm to catch the tank and rip its upper hull, exposing its interiors and the men occupying it.

Then, with the massive kill kannon on its other arm, it blasted the thing point blank, shattering the vehicle in a thunderous explosion, an eruption of flames and chassis pieces. The alien walker stood there for a few instants, almost like it wanted to admire the kill it had just made. Then he began moving, stepping on the remnants of the tank with the same callous indifference of a baby crashing ants.

Nothing in that moment stood between the Mega Dread and the soldiers of the trench, save from a couple of dozens of metres of terrain incapable of stopping it. The men kept firing at it, even though it was just a futile show of defiance.

Then, a red gust of wind blew right in the middle of the ork vehicle's path. In its wake, a young girl appeared, holding a sniper rifle with a peculiar shape.

Everyone in the immediate vicinity, be it human or ork, paused, shocked by the event. Even the Mega Dread stopped in its track, its driver unsure of what had just appeared in front of it. The girl looked at the enemy in front of her, not showing a single trace of fear despite its monstrous shape and enormous size compared to hers. Then, without hesitation, she pointed the gun towards the alien machine. Disbelief and bafflement caught the Imperials, while the orks behind the Dread laughed at the absurd event. She couldn't hear it, but even the pilot of the ork engine, from within its cockpit, let out a guttural laughter, amused by the insanity of this puny humie.

Almost humouring her, it pointed the main kill kannon of its vehicle at her, the barrels of their two guns facing each other. The girl didn't flinch, her senses completely focused, ready to pick the right signal.

Ork guns, or shootas as they called them, despite their unique build and mechanisms, that sometimes defied the understanding of other species, still followed some fundamental principles and left some recognizable signs before firing. Signs that the young lady, with her expertise, had learned to recognize by heart.

'Wait...Wait...NOW!' The girl fired her gun just a few instants before the greater enemy cannon would do the same. The Fire Dust bullet exited the sniper rifle and entered the barrel of the cannon, hitting the shell inside just when it was moving out.

Ork weapons could withstand a tremendous amount of force and firepower, but even they had limits. Because of that precise shot, the explosive shell detonated too early, inside the cannon, disintegrating it. One second the Mega Dread was standing triumphantly, the next it had lost an arm.

Letting out a metallic screech, that reflected the cry of outrage of the ork pilot, the xenos walker fired the smaller kill kannons located on its body in unison, showering the girl in a rain of projectiles. In response, she ran straight towards it, either dodging or deflecting the enemy shots with her weapon, who in the meantime had morphed into a scythe.

Noticing she was getting closer, the alien engine moved its massive claws in her direction, intent on catching her in a deadly grasp. Just before it could do that, however, the warrior jumped, evading the metallic talons. In mid-air, she began to rotate her scythe which, as she landed on the Mega Dread's arm, completed an arc that sliced right through one of three digits of the vehicle's melee weapon, severing it. The girl then ran along the arm's length, hacking and slashing as she went, before reaching the head of the mechanical beast with the final cut.

'Uhm. It seems the cockpit is harder than I thought.' The blade, as a matter of fact, didn't go too deep in the multi-layered, thick metal of the head. By then, the Mega Dread was moving frantically, in the effort to shake her off.

'I'm gonna need a bit more force.' As she thought that, the warrior ejected the scythe and jumped in the air, just in time to avoid another attempt of grabbing by the walker's claws. This time, she used her semblance to aid her, going above the enemy as a slipstream of rose petals. When she was dozens of meters high in the air, her body reassembled itself and the blade of her weapon unfolded more than before, turning it into a war scythe.

Then gravity reasserted its dominance, and the descent began. As she fell, she activated her Semblance once again, gaining so much speed that she looked as if she had moved instantly to anyone who didn't have highly enhanced reflexes.

The thick armor wasn't enough to stop her this time: her weapon plunged deep into the cockpit, like a knife on tender flesh. The blade easily reached the pilot within, who didn't even see it coming, and impaled its head, even severing the detachable surgical implants linked on it.
With the destruction of the system necessary to pilot such a complex machine, the Mega Dread went limp, just like a living organism whose brain had been shut down, and crashed on the ground, rising a huge dust cloud in its wake.

In that small area of the vast battlefield, everyone remained immobile, with bated breath, as they processed the event that had just unfolded in front of them. Then, amidst the dust, the girl, standing on the toppled steel monster, appeared. A cacophony of conflicting sounds resonated all around, as the feelings of the two factions shifted. The Imperials shouted in relief and jubilation, praising both the Emperor and the girl who had saved them. The orks howls, on the other hand, encompassed several different emotions: a few were caught by fear, as they stood before someone who had defeated a vast war machine on her own, without an injury. Most bellowed in rage, as one of their weapons had been destroyed by the humies. Some, however, launched screams of challenges at her, eager to fight against such a strong opponent.

The girl, for her part, glanced briefly at the men and women behind her, to assure they were okay, before taking a fighting stance and turning her full attention at the green mob in front of her.

The huntress Ruby Rose finally entered the battle, and this was her first action. Her hunt had only just begun.