Chapter Six

'Ere we go boyz!' Roared kaptin Rottfez as he pushed Da Big Red Button.

'Contact,' said Serphia. 'Not one of ours.'
'I want energy signatures and identities,' said Raphaen. 'Captain, bring in the patrol craft.'
Just to his side, Gyndon said, 'As you command, captain. Shall I bring us into attack formation?' To which he received a nod.
Signals came in from the patrol craft and escorts. 'The Grail Hoststands by,' said Eshran, female captain of the destroyer.
Raphaen heard the soft thrum of a las-weapon under the captains words, she always did hope to use that las-pistol of hers.
'Acknowledged, Eshran,' said Gyndon. 'Form up ahead of the Consort, prepare for spear-thrust.'
'Contact classification identified and confirmed,' said Serpahia. 'Ork kill-kroozer.'
'Ork's,' grumbled Fenarix, the old sergeant was smiling. 'About time I found a worthy foe.'
'More contacts,' Seraphia said. 'At least half a dozen smaller ships, enemy… bombers and intercepts confirmed. They are accelerating for us, estimated time, three minutes.'
'To be expected,' Raphaen stated. 'The greenskins would not think of anything beyond a brute force attack. Fenarix, marshall our brothers. We have guests. Gyndon, I leave command of the void engagement to you.'
Gyndon nodded. 'Aye, my lord. Deploy interceptors, bring us to starboard then fire a warning volley…'

Kal Galivrad had been amongst the first into combat. When the greenskins came, they came fast. Far faster than anyone aboard the Grail Host had anticipated. Their crude boarding torpedoes flew at varying speeds, some caught on the void shields, others went shooting over-head. Most impacted the golden hull of the ship's starboard.
As the leader of the destroyers Blood Angel compliment, it was Galivrad's duty to lead them into battle.
Galivrad had marshelled them at once. Barricades and strong points manned, maintenance- and serf-ducts were closed off. Ship ratings manned with shotguns manned their stations besides transhumans, ready to kill any who dared these might warriors.
And the dared.
First came the small, rodent-like creatures called squigs. They ran squealing, dynamite and improvised explosives chained to them. A defence line met them. Kal Galivrad steely gaze met them.
Bolt-rounds pulped them, detonating them and their charges twenty meters short of the barricade. A fuselage from him and his two warriors, - Telemoch and Helion - ended their threat before the humans could draw a bead.
Then came the greens' themselves. Ugly, brutish beasts of green muscle. They wore dirty leather overalls, thumping their chests as they roared incoherent battle cries. Their shots rang out. They shot for the joy of it as they drew blades.
'Hold fast.' Galivrad said, for the humans.
The first volley of bolt-rounds into them cut down a few, more took their place. Orks were savage creatures, able to take wounds that even an Astartes would fall to. When it came to orks, the best way to kill them was to either decapitate or blow them to pieces.
The first to stumble over the barricade reached out at Galivrad with sticky, oily fingers. The sergeant welcomed it with his sword.
It slammed its fists into his helm, trying to smash him sideways. His sword met the xenos flesh at the neck. The reek of alien blood filled the sergeants' senses through his vox-grill. He pushed the xenos back over the wall, firing his bolt pistol as he did so.
The humans were manning their positions effectively. The thud-clang of shotguns firing joined the flat thud of bolters. The humans were a dozen paces behind Galivrad, containing any overspill of xenos.
A pintle-mounted heavy bolter opened up, tearing the heart from the xenos horde. Bodies evaporated, torn apart by the massive rounds. Chunks of meat and goblets of blood turned to a heavy haze. Galivrad saw the horde drop, one by one. Helion was dead, head a mangled chunk of pink meat.
The humans had bled, a few orks littered their feets.
'More!' Roared Telemoch, his voice a sour note in a peaceful melody. 'Heavy weapons!'
These orks wore armour bolted to their flesh. The ork equivalents of heavy bolters, multi-meltas and lascannons clanked into life. They jogged over the dead, weapons barking into life.
Galivrad fired, noting the lackluster follow up by his fellow defenders.
A melta beam incinerated Telemoch. He was cocked in his armour, he reached for his helms release as his hands were blown apart by. He roared as he was brought crashing to the deck. Smaller greens stabbed at his vulnerable knee and elbow joint. He smashed them away as he burned. Bones crunched under the weight of his armoured and transhuman physique. They reached his necks soft-seals. Knives of shoddy iron and rusted daggers bit into the skin beneath.
When Telemoch stopped moving, they went for the humans.
'Hold the line!' He shouted. 'We are the line between life and death! For the-'
He felt the spear pierce his thorax. It had entered just beneath his left lung. It tore wide as the ork wielding the power weapon pulled it out, barbs cutting him deeply. He was disoriented, damage rune playing out over his display as he killed the ork with a trio of bolt. He slumped to the ground, not perceiving the ork that had turned his hip into a surrealist art piece. Blood oozed from his wounds, mixing with that of the orks.
'Eshran…' he croaked.
'Sergeant Galivrad?' Eshran's voice was strong with conviction, undercut by the roar of ork guns around the sergeant.
He fired once.
'They have breached…' blood flooded his throat. 'T-the barricade.'
Eshran roared a command at her crew. 'I shall redirect-'
'No! They have overrun us,' he reached for his power sword, leering orks turned to face him. 'Seal the bulkheads… void this section.'
The barricade crashed down behind Galivrad, the heavy bolter fell silent as the scream came out.
Galivrad raised his power sword as an ork brandishing a chain blade bore down on him. 'For the Emperor!' He managed.
'For Sanguinius!' Eshran finished.

Hadrubael orbital shipyard, located in high-orbit over the ice-world of Cycleux. Two weeks after Blood Angels dematerialisation
Words appeared on the display screen of the golden-yellow armoured warriors data-slate. Touching his vox-bead, the warrior spoke once.

Afterword. Hello everybody, I hope you have been enjoying yourselves. So the orks, a worthy adversary indeed. We also get a little hint to the next chapter at the end there. Golden-yellow? I know, Ultramarines! Till next time, I've been Jam.