There were many things Allen expected to see when the regiment's Commissar returned. Perhaps those who walked out would be part of an army of humans who had fought against all odds and overcame a superior foe. Maybe he would even see giant, hulking men clad in power armor as the Adeptus Astartes made their presence known, and offered to fight back against the Ork menace.
What he did not expect was for a rag-tag group of unarmored humans to follow in the wake of the Commissar's footsteps as he approached the Imperial Guard regiment and the Sisters of Battle. The Guardsmen watching the building looked on in confusion as the nine men who followed the Commissar, his retinue of veterans, and the squad of Retributors confidently strode forth. Their red uniforms and strange clothing only made them more baffling to stare at as the Commissar chuckled at the Guardsmen's reactions.
Private Allen was initially like the other guardsmen, with confusion and befuddlement overcoming his mind and senses. However, the more he thought about the situation, the more frightened he became of these men. Had they been the ones to fend off an entire horde of Orks on their own? If these men were truly the ones to perform such a feat, it did not reassure him to know that they had done so with little armor to speak of. That would make them incredibly dangerous. He was beginning to see the logic in bringing these men along as the Commissar led them to an awaiting Crassus. The Retributor squad followed in their wake as they lead themselves into the back of the open armored vehicle. Quite the cramped space, he imagined.
The Sisters of Battle, for their part, also seemed confused. Many of the members of the Mission found themselves tilting their heads at the scene before them, confused as to how a group such as this could perform a feat the Mission would find itself hard-pressed to accomplish. Nonetheless, they maintained their professional demeanor. The Sisters Repentia, on the other hand, were ambivalent at these new fighters. Their eyes and muscles twitched as they were about ready to engage the Orks with all the ferocity they could muster, and all the waiting they were having to do was only making them more aggravated. The Mistress of Repentance held her whip tight, looking at her entourage with a harsh glare.
—
Sergeant Leon L. Leroy's found himself staring out into space as he sat in the large armored vehicle, thinking to himself about the events that had occurred a few hours ago. He really did not know what to think. How could the Commissar think this was a good idea?
He looked up with more than a little contempt at the mercenaries, feeling safe knowing that his mask would cover his facial expression. It was a farce. It was nothing but a damn farce. These were not soldiers, they were conmen, and their presence was doing nothing but hindering the entire mission. The only respite they had was that the Retributor squad accompanying them would likely carry them to victory, but even then, there was still a chance that these men would get in the way. He noted the way they acted, how they sat so casually as the Crassus began carrying them to their destination. The Scout was eating something, the Soldier was standing at attention for no reason, the Pyro was staring at a lighter it was continuously flicking in its hands, the Demoman was downing another bottle of whiskey, the Heavy had pulled out a book, the Engineer was messing around with a few of the machines he had brought, the Medic was staring very creepily at the Retributors, the Sniper was trying to sleep, and the Spy was staring right at him.
Leon gasped as the sight of Spy staring right into his soul frightened him, throwing off his vision. As soon as he had looked back at the Spy, he found that he had put a cigarette in his mouth and was beginning to light it. That bastard could not be trusted.
A tap to his side caused Leon to look left to whoever was disturbing him, that being one of his fellow guardsmen, Cole.
"You alright, Leon?" Cole asked, referring to his bout of shock and horror.
Leon nodded his head in response, "Y-yeah. I just thought I saw something weird. Don't mind me."
He thought he saw Cole raise an eyebrow from within his mask as the guardsman slowly returned to his previous state of staring blankly ahead. Leon did not particularly like the quiet, so he thought he could at least use this time to get some information on this so-called 'team' of mercenaries.
"So… anything we should know about yourselves?" he asked, trying to break the silence. He hoped they would at least be polite enough to open up to him.
The Demoman burped as he began giving his reply, apparently eager to talk, "About our jobs? Not much otha' than what we've told ya. I can tell ya 'bout my tools, though."
Leon tilted his head at the strange accent this man spoke in, noting the slurred tone of his speech. As he pondered his strange qualities, the man pulled out what was obviously a grenade launcher. It had a sleek black design along most of its body along with a wooden foregrip and stock. In the middle of the firearm was a rotating barrel of six. Judging by the design, he could tell it was a break-action launcher.
"If someone wants ya dead, and ya gotta turn them to giblets 'fore they can shove a knife up yer arse, ya use this pretty little thing. Nothin' beats grenades when ya need someone in pieces," he said as he began showing off the various parts of his grenade launcher, even giving the rotating barrel a nice spin. Leon noted, as he looked around the Crassus, that the Retributor squad seemed quite intrigued by the man's weapons.
The Demoman laughed as he pulled out another explosive launcher. This one was much different, having a silver color along its body and an olive-colored drum magazine and grip.
"Now, ya want a real destructive force? I've got the thing right here. I call it the Stickybomb Launcher. Launch explosives out here, they stick on anythin' ya point it at, and ya blow it ta hell when ya need to. Good for any situation," Demoman said as he spun around his Stickybomb Launcher. Leon had to admit that it was a neat concept, but he was concerned about the fact that this man was handling all this while previously having downed several bottles of whiskey.
The Heavy laughed as he listened to Demoman, and opted to show off his own weapon. It was a humongous gun about the size of Leon's own body, and he had no doubt that it was very powerful.
"Tiny baby man is right about bomb gun. However, is nothing compared to Sasha. She weighs one hundred and fifty kilograms and fires custom-tooled cartridges at ten thousand rounds per minute. No matter how big tiny giant is, he will not stop Sasha from tearing him apart," Heavy said, flashing a toothy smile as he held his weapon to his chest, appearing to be embracing it.
Leon was impressed. One hundred and fifty kilograms? That was heavier than almost every bolter in existence, and for the man to be carrying around like that… he must be very strong indeed. He also noticed that the Retributor squad appeared to be intently focused on the man and his gun, with one even putting both of her hands to her chin and staring at the Heavy with a dreamy expression. Leon groaned internally before turning his attention back to the team. He did not think it possible to look 'dreamy' in that black and white suit until now.
He tried to find a member of the team who did not seem busy while also not looking completely uninterested in having a discussion. Sure enough, Scout seemed to fit that bill.
"So… the Scout. May I inquire as to your own capabilities? All I know is that you're fast and not much else. What can you bring to the table?" he asked, putting his hands together in an effort to look inquisitive.
The Scout gave a light chuckle as he spit out some gum that he was chewing.
"What can I bring to the table? A hell of a lot, that's what. Ya need a flanker? I've got that for ya! I can circle 'round the enemy no problem. Straight through bullets and fire, mind you! I ain't too shabby fightin' people head-to-head, neither. I'm sure he can tell ya all about it!" Scout said, pointing towards the Heavy with a cocky expression. The man in question looked back with an angry expression.
"And hey, if ya need someone to just annoy the enemy, I can do that for ya too. I'm a specialist in that department. So yeah, I'd say I bring plenty to the table. Of course I do. I'm the freakin' Scout!" he said, continuing to boast about himself as he spoke. Leon could already tell that he would probably not like this kid, but there was not much he would be able to do about it. He was quite right on the 'annoying' part.
Leon pointed to the Soldier, who was still standing at attention at the end of the Crassus with a serious look in his eye, "What's up with him?" he asked.
The Scout gave another light chuckle before responding, "Oh. Soldier's just a weirdo. Guy thinks he's military but he's never been military in his life. He was kicked outta every branch for bein' too crazy, so he got a little tugboat and sailed across an entire freakin' ocean just to start killin' people! I'm sure you can tell what kinda guy he is."
Leon gave a slow nod as he stared at the Soldier. So… he was insane. That was not comforting in the slightest. In fact, that was the opposite of comforting.
"Is he a good fighter?" he asked, hoping he at least had this one good quality.
The Scout gave a hearty laugh in response, "Uh, yeah? Guy's the best at fightin' on this entire freakin' team! He'd kick my ass any day of the week if not for me bein' able to outrun him."
Leon was not sure if that was good news or not. He decided to keep quiet as the Crassus rolled on through, observing that most of the other mercenaries did not wish to speak, except for maybe the Pyro. The Pyro was… he gulped as he thought about it. No. Just no.
As he listened to the Demoman and Heavy banter with each other, he glanced at his fellow guardsmen. They appeared to have blank expressions on their faces, but he could tell they were apprehensive. They had every right to feel such a way.
He also took another gander at the Retributors. Most of them had lost interest in the team and were cleaning their weapons, but one of them continued to stare at the Heavy with that dreamy expression. He really hoped that behavior did not continue any further.
"Alright!" the booming voice of Commissar Dane called out. Instantly, every man in the room snapped back to attention. The Sniper had to be shaken awake, though.
"We are approaching our area of entry! Here is a quick recap of what your goals here are," the Commissar yelled as he projected an image onto one of the walls of the Crassus. It appeared to be a map showing a vast and yellow desert landscape. Markings on the map showed a number of cave entrances.
"The Orks have hidden well within these makeshift bunkers. Entry through any one of these exposed entrances will be a fruitless endeavor. Instead, we will make our own. Demoman…" he said, pointing to the Demoman.
"…will be the one making an opening here," he continued, pointing to a spot on the map, " and once he has cleared us our entrance, we will advance immediately toward the, what we believe to be, quarters of the Ork Warboss himself. If you are successful in eliminating him, clearing out the Orks within these caves will be a much easier endeavor. I also wish to note the Sisters Repentia will be joining you in your attack. They will join you as soon as you step outside the Crassus. As far as we know… the Orks are not attacking the surface, so it should be safe enough to coordinate your attack... but do not take any chances," the Commissar said, turning to point at the opening door of the armored transport, the bleak and desolate yellow landscape seen outside. The Sisters Repentia, a group of women without any sort of armor and wielding only Eviscerators, was waiting outside.
"May the Emperor guide our path, and may the enemies of the Imperium burn," Commissar Dane said, giving a curt nod to the group before him.
The Soldier was the first to move out, marching with purpose out of the transport while shouting behind him, "MOVE OUT!"
The rest of the mercenaries followed swiftly behind him, with the Retributor squad following closely behind. The Commissar also seemed to be following but paused when he noticed his veteran guardsmen remaining in the transport.
"What? You thought we were not going to be a part of this? I want to see the life drain from that damned Ork's eyes myself," Commissar Dane said, a determined look in his eyes.
Leon shrugged before he and his comrades followed the Commissar out of the transport. He could not help but imagine that the Commissar was trying to prove himself. And for who, exactly? He could not guess, and he would not guess, lest he makes baseless assumptions. Nonetheless, he really hoped that this would not be the Commissar's last engagement due to his own decision.
As he stepped into the wasteland, he watched as the team discussed amongst themselves what he assumed to be battle tactics, the Retributor squad gave a prayer to the God-Emperor, and the Sisters Repentia prayed individually. He opted to give his own prayer to the Emperor, hoping for good fortune on their hunt for the Warboss. Once he was finished, he noticed that the Demoman had separated from the group and was traveling to the site of the planned excavation. Leon ran up to the Demoman as the clearly wasted man mumbled something to himself.
"Do you need any help, Demoman, or do you know what you are doing?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at the Demoman's drunken ramblings that were apparently not directed at anyone.
The Demoman gave him a glare that told Leon he was more than a little indignant at the question.
"What do ya think, boy? They don't call me the bloody Demoman for no reason! You should go hang out with ya men, I'll handle this," he said, continuing to mumble to himself as he began launching sticky bombs out of his launcher. The explosives were small, spiky balls that seemed to beep as they landed on the ground. That most likely indicated they were armed. He sighed as he walked back to the rest of the group. The Commissar was giving some words of encouragement to the entire group, but the mercenaries looked a little disinterested. Were they that confident in their abilities?
As the Commissar finished speaking, the team began preparing their weapons for combat, pulling out a variety of lethal, yet crude-looking weapons. The Engineer, for his part, began constructing some kind of machine.
"Dispenser goin' up!" he called out as he began smacking a rising machine that almost looked like a rectangular metal container. A small screen was present on the front of it that indicated it was slowly filling up with something. What that something was, he'd have to ask.
"May I ask what this thing is?" Leon asked the Engineer as politely as he could.
The man gave a soft smile as he tapped the object with his wrench.
"This is the dispenser. Replenishes ammo, health, and composure. Useful for holdin' a point down. Saved our butts many a time," the Engineer said, a nostalgic look coming into his eye.
Leon raised his eyebrow, "Health? What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips.
The Engineer gave him a toothy grin as he held out his hand to the Spy, who was standing nearby. Begrudgingly, the Spy handed the Engineer his knife.
"Simply put, it heals you. Watch…" the Engineer said as he very violently cut himself on his arm, sending blood flying everywhere as an artery was completely severed. Leon yelled out as he looked toward the gaping wound, shocked that the Engineer would just injure himself like that for no apparent reason. His shock turned to amazement as the wound began sealing itself, eventually filling itself completely and appearing as if it was never cut in the first place.
"That's… incredible. It will be incredibly useful in the battles to come," Leon said, getting closer to look at the previously fatal wound. There was no blood in sight.
The Commissar looked on with a raised eyebrow at the scene before him as the Engineer tossed the knife back to Spy. That was… incredibly unnecessary. Whatever, he proved his point, and it was not like Leon was wrong in his observations. That ability would certainly prove useful.
"Anything else you have that will be helpful in the battle to come?" Commissar Dane asked, looking the dispenser up and down.
The Engineer nodded before grabbing a large metal box and placing it down.
"Sentry goin' up!" he called out, hitting the box repeatedly with a wrench as it revealed itself to contain a placed weapons system. Initially, it resembled a small, large caliber gun, but eventually, it increased in size and more resembled a large, stationary, high rate-of-fire weapons system capable of holding off formidable foes. As it finished constructing, it began autonomously searching the area for threats.
"This is the sentry gun. Packs a hell of punch thanks to those two machine guns it has. Should be more than enough to cover our behind, don't ya think?" he stated, giving the Commissar a tip of the hat as a show of respect.
The Commissar nodded as he observed the sentry gun, giving it a good look over.
"Remarkable. I assume it is fully autonomous?" he questioned. Such weapons systems were common, but rarely were they ever fully automated.
The Engineer gave a subtle nod in response.
Before he could continue with his questioning, the Demoman returned, a smirk on his face.
"Explosives are set, Commissar. I'm ready ta blow this thing sky high when you are," he said, giving a laugh as he chugged his whiskey bottle once again. He really wished he stopped doing that.
"Let's get behind the… whatever ya call this…" Demoman said, referring to the Crassus, "and we'll be ready to blow some greenskin bastards up!"
The Medic rolled his eyes as he turned to face the Demoman, "I could just use the shield, Demoman. I think zat would be much more efficient," he said, presenting his own contraption.
'Why do all of these men have strange accents?' the Commissar asked himself as he noted Medic's own tone of voice. Regardless, he had to wonder what this 'shield' exactly was. How effective would it be in blocking a massive explosion that could level an entire hill? He guessed he would find out as the Medic stood in front of them.
"Do not worry about ze shrapnel, mein entourage, my shield will protect you!" the Medic said, adopting a heroic pose as he pointed his contraption forward toward the detonation site and pressed a button. In response, the contraption spontaneously generated a large wall of energy, blocking out a large area in front of the group.
"Uh… Medic? Are you sure the shield blocks shockwaves?" Engineer asked, sounding quite unsure of the shield's capabilities. That was not providing anyone present any sort of assurance.
The Medic laughed his own response, "No! Not in the slightest! We will test zis theory now! Demoman, light it up!" he yelled out his command to Demoman, who gave a smirk.
"KABLOOEY!" the Demoman yelled, just as the Commissar heard a beep. The next thing he knew, a massive explosion erupted right in front of the group, blowing a massive hole into the ground and sending pieces of earth flying everywhere. For a second, the Commissar was sure he would be ripped to pieces by either the blast or the makeshift shrapnel and closed his eyes in preparation for the end. However, death did not come, and the Commissar opened his eyes to find that he and the rest of the militants were unharmed. The guardsmen were shaken up, however.
"D-did you really have to do that?" Leon said, shaking like a leaf, "We could have died for literally no reason!"
The Medic flashed him a dangerous grin as he looked toward him, "Oh… don't be such a baby, guardsman. We lived, did we not?" he said as he turned toward the hole in the ground.
The Sisters Repentia and their Mistress of Repentance walked forward, observing the hole with glee. They were about ready to slaughter any Orks in their path, crazed looks in their eyes as their hands twitched.
The Commissar frowned as he looked down the hole. They would not be able to simply jump down, as it was far too high to do it safely, and there was no telling what was down there given how dark it was. As soon as the mercenaries had observed this, the Demoman and the Soldier ran off to get something.
"Sniper, see anything down there?" asked the Engineer to the Sniper, who was staring intently down the hole.
"Nah. Can't see anything… dangerous… save the long fall. Should be safe to descend 'long as someone like me watches over," the Sniper said, his voice remarkably low in volume.
The Soldier and the Demoman returned, this time with parachutes on their backs.
"We'll jump down there to secure our descent! After we have all descended we will continue the mission!" the Soldier yelled out, giving a smirk as he approached the edge of the hole, the Demoman following closely behind.
"CANNONBALL!" yelled Soldier as he jumped into the hole without a shred of hesitation, curling his body into the shape of a ball. The Demoman quickly jumped in after him, headfirst.
"WOO HOO HOO!" whooped the Demoman as he nosedived straight into the hole. As the militants tracked the two crazed mercenaries as they descended, they noticed them activate their parachutes right before going out of sight. After a quick moment, they received positive feedback from the depths of the hole.
"No hostiles spotted! It is safe to descend!" yelled the Soldier. The Commissar looked to the rest of the mercenaries, who were beginning to lower themselves into the hole through their own means. The Heavy, the Engineer, the Sniper, and the Medic took the liberty of simply climbing their way down, grabbing onto the jagged rocks on the sides of the hole's walls as they lowered themselves into the hole. The Pyro and the Scout, however, seemed to have different ideas.
"Wait… where did you…?" the Commissar began to ask, as he observed that the Pyro now had a propulsion device attached to its back. He did not have the opportunity to finish his sentence as the Pyro jumped into the hole, slowing its descent on the way down with the jet pack and landing safely on the ground. The Commissar shrugged in response to that showing. Jet packs were a very common tool around the galaxy, and he was glad to see that these mercenaries knew when to utilize such devices.
The Commissar's thoughts were interrupted as he saw the Scout begin to run toward the hole enthusiastically.
"Wait… Scout! You don't have any…" the Commissar shouted out as the Scout jumped with abandon straight into the pit. Commissar Dane bit his lip as he watched the Scout plummet to the ground, fully expecting him to splatter into pieces. However, right before the scrawny boy hit the ground, he spontaneously changed momentum upwards and landed safely on the ground. The Commissar's mouth hung open as he stared down at the scene in shock.
His moment of shock passed as one of the Retributors elbowed him, taking his attention as they passed by him and peered down at the hole.
"Let's get moving, Commissar. We do not have all day. The Ork menace will only be harder to exterminate the longer we wait," she said as she nodded to her Sisters. They called down to the mercenaries as they jumped down the hole and braced themselves for impact. Commissar Dane sighed as he listened to the loud thud that signaled they had reached the ground. He gestured for his men to follow as he began to follow the less mobile mercenaries in climbing down the hole. The Sisters Repentia followed behind a little too enthusiastically, kicking Leon and a few of the other guardsmen in the face as they did so.
"Ow! Hey, stop that!" yelled Leon as one of the Sisters Repentia bumped him on the head with her foot. The Mistress of Repentance let out a crack of the whip toward the side of the Sister as she grit her teeth and relented.
"Hold back, whelp!" the Mistress roared toward her group as they all paused to let the guardsmen get some distance.
Finally, after some time, the entire force present descended to the bottom. The Sisters Repentia took forward positions as they looked into the darkness with wariness, looking for any kind of enemy to kill. The mercenaries and the Retributor squad followed closely behind, each individual holding their weapons tightly as they checked every corner of the dark cave. The Commissar and guardsmen watched over the scene with no small amount of apprehension. The cave was eerily quiet and dark, a stark contrast to the way of the Orks, and it felt like something was missing.
The Commissar mouthed an 'Oh' as he realized that the Spy was not present. He lowered his voice as he spoke to the Engineer, "Engineer… where is the Spy? He was just here when we were descending."
The Engineer whispered his own response as he aimed a shotgun into a long cave corridor with one hand and held his dispenser in the other, "He's checking ahead for possible… obstacles… to our mission. He may or may not return to us before we get to our destination. He's not very communicative with the rest of us."
The Commissar nodded, albeit slowly, as he listened to the man's explanation. He supposed such behavior was in line with his job of being a Spy, but…
The Commissar's thought trailed off as thought back to… whatever it was Scout did to spontaneously change his momentum in the middle of the air. How was that even possible? He was wearing absolutely no equipment that would have allowed him to perform such a feat. Even then, no such equipment existed to have that sort of function, to begin with, at least, not any that he had heard of. It made no sense whatsoever for this random boy in the middle of a war zone to simply ignore the laws of gravity like that.
Dane breathed in and out as he thought over the situation at hand, opting to ignore the Scout's… questionable abilities for now. The Orks had been present on this planet for the longest time, all the way back to when the Imperium first came into control of it during the times of the Great Crusade. As a result, the planet never had the opportunity to become a large-scale hive planet like other strategically important locations due to how frequent the destruction of the planet's surface came. Nonetheless, the planet was well-populated and was an important trading and supply hub for the Imperium, and had particularly proven to be useful during the Third War of Armageddon, despite the greenskin threat still present on its surface. Truthfully, dealing with the occasional Ork uprising had become a sort of routine for the guard stationed on Karabakh, and they had only gotten better and better at understanding and predicting Ork strategies, which had made them premier candidates for doing battle with the Orks on the surface of Armageddon. Their bravery and skill in battle had resulted in the Imperium giving favor to the planet, and after the recent rebellion they quickly received assistance from the Adepta Sororitas and other Imperial Guard units in dealing with their most pressing issues. While the Imperium dealt with the rebellion led by heretical forces, the Orks decided their time was now and attacked. Although none on the planet were surprised by the Ork's following attack, they were surprised by the sheer ferocity and effectiveness of it. These factors all came down to the warboss himself: DreadMaeka. Unlike previous warbosses that did raids on the planet's surface, DreadMaeka had a vision for it, much like the infamous Ghazghkull Thraka. His uniting of the various Ork clans and their combined assault on Imperial positions had forced them back significantly, and were it not for the brave assault led by the Cannoness of the Mission of the Adepta Sororitas that broke apart the Ork's line and tripped their assault, then perhaps they may have been utterly destroyed.
As it stood, the Commissar and the Imperial Guard regiment he had been leading into battle were, at this time, meant to be on the defensive to hold the line against a massive Ork assault. However… something unexpected happened. The Orks did not come. This caused quite a stir among the higher-ranking command staff, and the Commissar and his regiment were sent with a detachment of Sisters of Battle to investigate. Once there, they found the remnants of an entire army of Orks, slaughtered by an unknown and unseen enemy. Scorch marks littered the ground as the bodies of the greenskins were sometimes stacked to be several meters high, and a massive fire had even begun to spread amongst the corpses. After noting that some of the weaponry used at the sight of this strange battle seemed to have been human in nature, the Commissar had concluded that there must have been some kind of underground human army that had hidden and then valiantly held out against the Ork threat for as long as they could. This was further reinforced by the revelation that a nearby command center was sending out a distress signal. This particular one had been in charge of overseeing surveillance and military operations against the Ork forces present in the wastes, and it made sense that any kind of strong holdout human army would choose such a location to defend against the Orks.
Now, when Commissar Dane was thinking of an 'army', he was thinking of a significant number of humans from many different backgrounds, all decked out in only the best of the best in terms of armor and weaponry, and having the strongest wills in the God-Emperor he had seen in his life.
What he was not thinking of was a group of nine rag-tag mercenaries wearing nothing but cloth and wielding weapons that almost looked like they were forged by the Orks themselves. To say he was shocked when he first saw them was… quite an understatement. There was simply no way that only nine men wearing no armor at all and wielding the crudest weapons he had ever seen could fend off an entire army of Orks by their lonesome. He doubted even the strongest of the Adeptus Astartes, strong as they were, could perform such a feat. There was simply no way. However, in the end, he had the face the facts. There were no other forces nearby that could have possibly engaged the Orks in combat other than these men, and they had admitted that they were the ones who had engaged the Orks. In the end, Commissar Dane decided that an explanation would eventually reveal itself and reported back his findings to the upper command staff. The reactions were… mixed… to say the least. General Brolin actually seemed to receive the news positively and ordered the Commissar to request that the mercenaries join him in an attack on the Ork warboss himself. A message from one of the other commanders was nearly illegible, but it seemed to contain a lot of cursing and questioning Commissar Dane's intelligence. Dane didn't exactly know what to make of that one.
The Sisters accompanying his regiment had rather muted reactions to the revelation at hand, as was expected of them. Despite this, it was still obvious they were rather confused by the mercenary group's introduction, supposedly expecting a much more numerous or powerful force, judging by the fact they were tilting their heads and shifting in their spots as they stood by watching. The Palatine in command showed no hint of surprise, carrying herself with an ever-stoic demeanor. Impressive, he must say.
As they continued moving through the dark and damp cave, Commissar could not help but wonder what the guardsmen above the group were thinking. Usually, he did not entertain such thoughts, but now he found it more… appealing to wonder about.
—
Private Allen sighed as he stared down the sights of his lasgun toward the cave entrance before them. They were in the middle of a massive desert, with large dunes sprawled out over the landscape. Ancient and forgotten monuments could be seen sticking out of the ground in many places, littering the ground with the last traces of the humans who were here before the Imperium was. They were staring at one such relic: a massive cave entrance held up by ancient pillars and walls that seemed to stretch endlessly down into the depths of the world beneath them. At the moment, he and the rest of the regiment were tasked with watching the entrances to the caves to ensure no Orks decided to be brave while they prepared their own assault. As usual, Private Allen was going to be one of the men leading the charge into the cave once they received the order. He was really starting to question how he had not died yet with all these dangerous tasks he had been given.
He glanced at the man next to him, who was doing much of the same thing that Allen was doing. He then turned back to glance behind him. The Adepta Sororitas were talking amongst themselves and looking over the guard. It was unusual for the Commissar to not be there, but he knew that he was off on some important business. It was a shame, really. Most of everyone in the regiment adored Commissar Dane for his tenacity and righteous fury, and they did not mind charging into enemy gunfire at the sound of his voice. He turned back to the guardsman next to him and tapped him slightly as he began speaking in a low voice.
"Think they're any good, Josan?" Allen asked, referring to the mercenaries.
Josan understood who he was referring to and shrugged, speaking in his usual gruff and broken voice, "Don't know. All I know is… they better be some real damn good men. They get the Commissar killed, then…"
Allen nodded. Everyone in the regiment knew what would happen if those mercenaries failed the Commissar. His grip on his lasgun tightened as he stared into the cave ahead. Someone bumped him on his right, and he turned to see a familiar young woman looking between him and Josan.
"They's bad news. I know fo' sure. I can see it in they eyes… real bad," she said, her eyes narrowing as she did so.
Allen raised an eyebrow as he spoke, "Really? I didn't see anything particularly alarming. What did you see in them, Rek'hal?"
Rek'hal growled as she gripped her lasgun tightly, continuing to aim down the cave with anger bubbling in her voice as she talked, "They's deranged. Real insane. Saw similar thing in eyes of heretics we killed, but these guy's worse. Way, way worse. They's might not be heretics, but… they's definitely monstas. Real psychapaths!"
Allen gulped as he listened to that. Rek'hal had seen many things since she was a kid and during her time in the guard. She fought in the depths of a hive city against gang members and criminals, in flaming cities against hordes of screaming greenskins, and on the surface of Karabakh against heretics. There were many things one would see on such campaigns that you could call 'insane', but Rek'hal never used that term. To her, it was just her life. It was one of the things Allen had found endearing about her. She was always willing to throw herself into the worst of the worst just to make things right, something that is surprisingly not so common in the Imperium. For her to call these mercenaries 'psychopaths', was for her to observe that they were so far into the depths of immorality and insanity that it made them worse than even the heretics they had fought earlier.
"Are… are you sure? This isn't baseless or anything? You know this for sure?" Allen asked. He wanted to be sure she was being serious.
Rek'hal nodded, a frown present on her face.
"Whatevah you's doin'… don't trust 'em. Never," she said. The serious look on her face was completely alien to Allen. He had never seen her like that before. He opted to nod as he put his hand on her arm.
"Alright. I'll trust you. If you really think they're that crazy, then… I'd be a fool not to believe you," he said, a soft smile on his face.
Rek'hal looked around for a moment to make sure no one but Josan was looking at them. After seeing that no one was watching, Rek'hal smiled and leaned in close to Allen's head, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His face grew pink as a goofy smile came upon his face, and he quickly returned to looking down the sights of his lasgun at the cave door to make it look like he was being attentive to his duties. He heard Josan quietly laughing to himself but did not act on it as he simply opted to smile at himself.
Unbeknownst to the three of them, a Sister of Battle was indeed listening to their conversation with concern etched onto her face. She paid no mind to the irrelevant details of their conversation as she thought about Rek'hal's thoughts on the mercenaries. If she was saying that these men were indeed more insane than even the heretics, then…
The Sister of Battle frowned as she begin to walk towards the Palatine in charge of their group. This was indeed a concerning matter to be discussed. Although the words of a guardsman were not the most reliable thing in the world, she believed that they should at least be taken into account.
—
Leon shifted as he looked on at the people in front of him. He had no strange feelings for them at the moment except for the Pyro. Being near the Pyro just felt… off. There was a huge sense of wrongness in just being near that thing. It was hard to describe, except for saying it was similar to how he imagined being near a Blank would feel. He would not be surprised in the slightest to know that the Pyro had no soul to speak of.
The other members of the mercenary group did not give him as much alarm. The Heavy, the Scout, the Demoman, and the Engineer all seemed at least reasonable people, though the Scout came off as an annoying bastard. The Soldier, on the other hand, seemed like he was trying way too hard to come off as military. Leon was finding what Scout said earlier to make sense. Leon had not yet talked to him, but he found that the longer he spent around this man, the less he wanted to be around him, and not so much out of a sense of annoyance like the Scout. No. Leon felt danger around this man like he was ready to snap at any moment and start firing upon anything in sight, like the Sisters Repentia before him, except with even more bloodlust than even they provided. He would do well to remain cautious around him, as well as with the Medic. Unlike the Soldier, Leon would occasionally see the Medic have a crazed look in his eye that screamed he was an absolute psychopath. He definitely fits the "mad doctor" archetype that old Terran media had created, or at least from what he had heard of it. Leon would definitely never let that doctor operate on him. At least not willingly. The Sniper, for his part, seemed to be a bit of a loner. He had only seen him talk once and that was when analyzing the situation of the hole before they had traveled down it. Leon could see that Sniper was an assassin of some kind, and given his propensity for quiet and observing rather than engaging, it seemed all too fitting.
The man who scared Leon the most, however, was the Spy. Although he was not currently present in the group, Leon could not help but feel that the Spy was constantly watching him. After all, he had turned to look at Spy, only to find the agent staring back at him earlier. There was no trust to be had in that man. The worst part was that he had completely fooled Leon when he disguised himself as one of the veteran guardsmen, and Leon had not even been a little suspicious! What if the Spy was here now? What if he was disguised as one of the guardsmen, or even as one of the Sisters of Battle, or most dastardly of all as one of the Sisters Repentia? What if he was staring right into the back of his head, smiling as he aimed a gun right at his cranium and started squeezing the trigger…
Leon jumped a little as he felt a poke in his arm. He turned to see one of his fellow guardsmen looking at him in concern. From what he could tell from beneath the mask, it was probably Cole.
"Hey, Leon, you alright? You're hyperventilating in there," Cole said, tilting his head as Leon paused to catch his breath.
"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine. Just… remembering some stuff," Leon said, lying.
Cole paused as he looked down the dark tunnel of the cave, before turning back to speak to Leon, "Look, man. It's alright if what we saw in that basement is still bothering you, but try to keep it together for the mission, alright?" Cole asked, patting Leon on the shoulder before turning and continuing to march with the rest of the group.
Leon sighed as he followed along. Truth be told, what he saw in that basement did bother him at the moment, but he had long since learned to move on from that stuff. The Spy, on the other hand, was not something you could just move on from. He could always be standing in front of you, to the left of you, to the right of you, or...
Leon's thoughts paused as the group began slowing down. Up ahead, a crudely made wall could be seen, clearly put together by the Orks in a short amount of time. It had no chance of stopping the Imperial force before it.
"So…" the Demoman began saying, "…want me to blow it up or…?"
The Commissar shook his head as he approached the wall.
"No. Not yet. Does anyone have…?" the Commissar said, not finishing his sentence before the Pyro walked up to the wall with an axe. It swung it once, knocking a large plank of wood off the wall and allowing the group to see through. On the other side, a large clearing of the cave was able to be seen. A massive horde of Orks nearly filled the entire thing, with boyz moving materials from one place to another and a number of them standing around a large figure. Commissar Dane smiled. There he was. Warboss DreadMaeka.
He turned to the rest of the group present, who were all already brandishing their weapons. The Engineer was placing his dispenser down, while the rest of the mercenaries took aim with their respective weapons, although the Spy was still nowhere to be found. The Retributors were also taking aim with their weapon, pointing their heavy flamers and heavy bolters toward the wall. The Sisters Repentia were also getting ready to charge in, but the Commissar gestured backward.
"Sorry, my Sisters. For now, we will be holding back and firing upon the enemy instead of charging into them. Do not worry, you will certainly get your moment in due time," the Commissar said, trying to ease their disappointment.
He turned to his guardsmen, who were standing at attention, and smiled.
"I am sure you all know what you are doing already. I don't need to repeat myself. Is my confidence misplaced?" he asked, looking over his guardsmen with a wide smirk. The guardsmen shook their heads, and replied in unison, "No, sir."
The Commissar then turned his head and nodded to the Demoman.
"Lay the bombs."
—
Warboss DreadMaeka groaned as he watched his boyz move about. For all the experience they had in fighting, they had almost nothing when it came to organizing an actual war. He grumbled as he watched a bunch of boyz begin to fight over some scraps, only to be smacked around by some nobs as they were forced back to work. Was this what the prophet Ghazghkull felt like all the time? It was an affront to the Ork race as a whole, and DreadMaeka was going to fix them up real quick.
Or at least, he would have, were it not for a massive explosion that happened at one of the walls of the room he was standing in. All the Orks in the room stopped to turn toward the source of the noise (at least, those who did not have their eardrums blown out and were writhing on the floor in pain), confused at the situation before them. Confusion turned to surprise as a massive wave of bolts, bullets, rockets, flames, and pellets started flying out of the smoke.
"YAAAAAAAAAAH!" was one of the many sounds heard among the first shots fired as a large, bald man carrying a massive gun appeared from the smoke, mowing down dozens of Orks in an instant as the sound of bullets flying out of the minigun filled the cavern. Along with the massive man, a number of armored figures emerged behind him, carrying heavy bolters and heavy flamers as they unleashed a wave of hurt upon the Orks. Soon enough, hundreds of Orks had died in moments, and the warboss was still reeling from the shock of it all as the Orks around him scrambled. He yelled out as he pointed to the threat.
"YA GITZ! DA HUMIES IZ RIGHT THERE! SHOOT 'EM! KILL 'EM!" he roared. The Orks finally got their wits together and started charging toward the enemy, choppas and shootas in hand.
—
Heavy laughed maniacally as he mowed down the Ork horde with his minigun. The greenskins did not even have the time to reach past their comrade's bodies as they too succumbed to the fate of the massive weapon. The massacre of the greenskins was assisted further by the Retributors that followed the Heavy, who too fired their weapons in the Ork horde, killing dozens by themselves as they mowed down Ork after Ork. This continued for quite some time as perhaps thousands of Orks fell in minutes. However, for every Ork that fell, twenty more followed. The Heavy and his entourage moved backward as the Orks slowly began gaining ground, and their ammo pools began to grow scarce.
Just as Heavy began to turn heel, and the Retributors pulled back, the rest of the team arrived.
Soldier and Demoman laughed as they launched their explosives into the crowd before them, unleashing hell as each individual bomb took out multiple Orks on their own. The Pyro was also eager to partake in the carnage, lighting entire crowds of greenskins on fire as they screamed and wailed from the burning flames. The Orks paused in their advance as flames began spreading from greenskin to greenskin, continuing to char flesh and burn bodies. To make matters worse, a certain greenskin noticed a large gas canister flying right over the crowd.
"Aw shi-"
A massive explosion shook the earth as the gas canister exploded, killing over a dozen Orks in but a moment.
The Engineer, meanwhile, had taken the liberty of building a sentry. Within a few moments, the sentry he had placed had been fully upgraded and was firing at the Ork horde at full speed. It nearly matched the minigun's own body count as dozens of Orks succumbed to its rockets and bullets.
A massive Ork nob in the distance screamed as a hole appeared in its head, and it fell over as the last breath it took left its lungs. The Sniper's marksmanship proved fatal for any large beings and important figures as he took a high position on a rock and began firing down at the Orks before him, although he occasionally had to dodge a stray rocket or bullet fired his way.
The Scout was having a difficult time keeping up with the massive horde of greenskins all huddled together into one small space, but he made do as he jumped over various Orks, firing a shot at any particularly important targets. As he stood atop the head of a slugga boy, he took note of a massive nob that was laughing maniacally as it charged toward him, bowling over any Orks in his way as he clutched a massive scrap axe in his hands. The Scout smirked.
"RAAAAAAGH!" the Ork roared as he charged toward the Scout. The Ork drove his foot into the ground and summoned all the might within his being as he raised the axe above his face and swung as hard as he could downward. The Scout waited until right before the axe reached him to kick himself off the slugga boy's body, dooming him to a fate of division as his body separated in two under the force of the axe. The nob snarled as he watched the Scout jump on top of another Ork, a shoota boy who was having trouble keeping up with the small boy.
"C'MERE 'UMIE!" grumbled the nob as he smacked the shoota boy with a hand, and the Scout continued jumping on Ork after Ork. The nob smashed all of those in his way as he chased after the Scout, dooming those he jumped on to getting stomped, slapped, punched, crushed, or sliced. This continued for quite some time until the Scout reached the cave wall. He kicked the Ork he was stepping on in the face as he propelled himself onto the wall, grabbing onto a rock and turning back to the nob, who had lunged forward and once again raised his axe for a strike. Idiot.
The Scout jumped sideways as the axe collided with the rocks where he once was. The nob growled in annoyance as the blade embedded itself deep within the rocks, and he struggled to pull it out as he gripped it with both his hands and pulled. The Scout used the opportunity to jump on top of the nob and grab onto the metal frame protecting his face. The nob yelled at the Scout to stop, but the Bostonian paid him no mind as he forcibly ripped off the protective layer, letting his head be vulnerable to the Scattergun.
The nob laughed as he finally pulled the axe out of the wall. His joy was short-lived, however, as his head exploded from a single Scattergun shot.
"Freakin' idiot!" said the Scout as he jeered at the corpse beneath him. Soon, a nearby explosion reminded him of the battle, and he began once again jumping over Orks to get back to his team.
The Medic, meanwhile, was having the time of his life as he watched the Orks running at him disintegrate as they hit his shield, their forms flying outward as they slowly turned to nothing. Bullets and explosives proved just as useless as they too disintegrated with the contact of the shield. Despite his obvious glee in inflicting suffering on the Orks, Medic knew that he still had a job, and spent time giving healing to his teammates as well as others who needed it. Speaking of which…
Medic watched as an unfortunate rocket flew out of the Ork crowd and directly impact one of the Sisters of Battle wielding a heavy bolter. She cried out in pain as it sent her flying back, several limbs of her flying off as she landed on the ground. Medic shook his head and immediately began healing the injured Sister, her limbs reattaching themselves cleanly and efficiently.
"Do not fret, mein Fräulein! You are not yet ready to meet your maker!" Medic said, smirking to himself as the Sister looked at her limbs in shock. The sound of a loud explosion rang out, reminding the two of their battlefield duties as the Medic ran forward and grabbed the Sisters by her hand, helping her to her feet as Medic handed her the heavy bolter she was wielding.
"Now go! There are still yet more to kill!" Medic said, laughing maniacally as he and the Sister jumped back into combat.
The Soldier grit his teeth as a stray bullet hit him in the shoulder, causing him a bit of pain as he fired another rocket into an especially large group of Orks, killing six Orks at the same time as the rocket hit directly in the center of the group and sent body parts flying everywhere. He advanced forward and continued to fire the rest of his clip, killing another fourteen Orks as he began reloading rapidly.
"AAAAHHHHHH!" screamed an Ork as it charged forward, red markings all over its body as it charged forward at frightening speed, rearing a sharp and curved blade as it glared at the Soldier. As it approached, the Soldier snorted as he pulled his right hand back and blasted the Ork in the face with his fist, sending the Ork's head flying dozens of meters away and causing the Ork's body to roll along the ground for several meters before coming to a painful stop as it crashed into a large rock.
"Take that, trash bag!" the Soldier taunted as he finished reloading and once again began firing, unloading into the Orks with rockets as he had been doing for the past half hour. Despite the Ork's numbers only increasing since the fighting began, the team was actually beginning to enjoy themselves as they wiped out dozens upon dozens of Orks at a time.
The Demoman was having a similarly good time as his stickybomb launcher decimated large clusters of Orks, leaving huge gaps in their horde as the explosives blew them apart. He chuckled as he bumped into the Soldier, their backs to each other as they continued to blow apart the enemy.
"I think I'm startin' to enjoy this, lad!" yelled the Demoman to the Soldier as he continued firing his bombs.
The Soldier yelled back as he fired a rocket into a nob's face, blowing his entire upper body apart in an instant.
"Yessir! These greenskins make damn good shooting practice!" the Soldier yelled over the sounds of the battle.
The Engineer sighed as he drank some beer and watched the battle. It was going very well for his team as they started getting into a nice routine of shooting and then going back to the dispenser to refill on ammo. He looked back to the cave to see the Commissar and his guardsmen firing lasgun and bolt pistol shots into the Ork crowd and occasionally turning to watch the mercenaries in action. The Engineer made sure his sentry was doing fine before walking over to him in a casual demeanor.
"Welp. Gotta say, this is pretty nice, ain't it?" the Engineer asked the Commissar as he gestured to the battlefield.
The Commissar narrowed his eyes at the Engineer, "…Nice?" he asked, clearly concerned.
The Engineer laughed, "Sir… with all due respect… we've been through this rhyme and dance many times before. It's nothin' new to us."
The Commissar raised his eyebrow at the statement but decided not to press it as he took additional shots at targets he considered valuable. He resisted the urge to shake his head as he thought about the mercenaries. This made no sense. It made no sense! They were all unarmored yet took shots from the Orks like they were nuisances at best, their weapons absolutely blew apart the Orks despite looking more like Ork weapons than Imperial ones, and to top it all off, they were treating this like it was some sort of game. They laughed maniacally, charged into combat with enthusiasm, taunted their enemies, and all in all were treating this like it was not a serious situation in the slightest. It was all very suspicious, as was the fact that they were far stronger than they should be. There was no way a normal human could punch a huge charging Ork's head clean off and send his body flying all over the place like it was nothing. There was simply no way.
The Engineer hummed as he shot a few bolts from his rescue ranger at the sentry. It still had plenty of ammo for the moment, so there was nothing major to worry about. However, he began to notice something with the Orks.
"Hey, Commissar!" he called out to the Commissar, who turned to face the Engineer with an incredulous expression.
"What is it?" the Commissar asked.
The Engineer pointed into the greenskin ocean, which looked a lot less numerous than before.
"I think these are the last ones 'fore we have to deal with their boss. We could use the girls back there to break through and perhaps kill the boss," he said, pointing to the Sisters of Repentance who were sitting in the cave they came from with bored expressions on their faces. They perked up upon being mentioned.
The Commissar smiled as he looked on at the battlefield.
"Alright. We're going to pull the group back, let the greenskins get cocky, and then smash into them with the most righteous fury," the Commissar stated, pointing to the Retributors and mercenaries, who were continuing to wreak havoc on the Orks.
The Engineer nodded as he watched the Demoman and Soldier approach their position, evidently for more ammo from the dispenser.
"Hey! You two!" the Engineer called out to the two mercenaries, with them turning to look at him as they recognized their names, "We're gonna pull the team back and let the ladies back here have their fun, alright!"
The Demoman and Soldier looked at each other with smirks on their faces before they turned to nod toward the Engineer. Commissar Dane did not like those looks at all.
As the two mercenaries walked into the cave, the Engineer quickly moved past them and toward the team to inform them of what was soon to happen. Meanwhile, the Sisters Repentia were starting to prepare themselves for what was about to transpire. Their muscles twitched as adrenaline began pumping through their bodies, and they began to rev their Eviscerators in anticipation. They were not unaware, however, of the fact that both the Soldier and the Demoman were drawing their own melee weapons. Each man pulled a katana from a sheath on the left hip and looked the other in the eye.
"Hah! Solly! Ya really think ya gonna compete with meh? Ya couldn't hold a sword if ya motha taught ya!" the Demoman said, looking the Soldier in the eye with a shit-eating smirk.
The Soldier grit his own teeth in response as his grip on his katana tightened.
"Go ahead, Demoman! Kill as many greenskin bastards as you want! I'll kill TWICE the amount!" he yelled, looking Demoman in the eye with a fierce expression. The two stood like that until the Mistress of Repentance spoke up. She was holding her own power sword in her hand as she stood to the side of the two mercenaries, looking at them with a questioning gaze.
"So… I assume you are joining us on our charge?" she asked, more rhetorically than anything. She already knew the answer before both men answered her simultaneously.
"Yes!"
The Mistress of Repentance smiled widely, letting her canines show as the men returned the favor with a predatory smile of their own.
"Well, brothers. Let us cleanse the xeno filth from this cavern together. May the Emperor bless our blades and guide our fury. For the Emperor," she said, bringing her arm to her chest as a form of a salute.
The men quickly returned the salute, remembering how they were supposed to treat the Emperor.
"For the Emprah!" the Demoman said, saluting before taking a swig of some whiskey.
"May the Emperor show the enemy mercy, because I sure as hell won't!" said the Soldier as he smashed his fist into his chest.
—
As the team slowly pulled back, Heavy continued to yell with passion and excitement. The number of enemies he had mowed down with his minigun must have measured in the tens of thousands by now, and he was not getting tired of it anytime soon. He laughed as a nob attempted to rush him down, only to get instantly torn apart by the minigun's stream of bullets. A group of slugga boyz followed closely behind them, but it was for naught, as their entire group was reduced to bloody, hole-filled corpses. Some heavily armored enemies could get a few more steps in as they rushed down the team, but the bullets of the massive minigun cared not, for their armor was soon ripped apart by a hail of gunfire and bullets.
He had to admit that he was quite sad when he and his team had to pull back. Mowing down hordes of the enemy never got old, and he sure as hell was going to miss the sound of a massive green giant being torn to shreds.
"When will attack being?!" asked Heavy as he slowly moved back to the mouth of the cave. The Orks were seemingly getting more confident in themselves and were now starting to rush forward with greater ferocity. They were mowed down all the same.
"In just a moment! When I say fall back, immediately rush back into here!" called out the Commissar. He was still firing upon the Orks. As they continued to be gunned down by the combined power of the team. The Commissar grunted as a round whizzed near his head and impacted the wall next to him. He quickly took out the perpetrator with a well-aimed shot that blew apart his head. That was a new best shot for him. As this happened, he noticed that the Engineer had put his sentry back into its box form and was hauling it away to inside the cave. Smart idea, he thought. It was about time.
"Now! Fall back!" the Commissar called out to the team before him. Sure enough, almost the entire team and the Retributor squad stopped what they were doing and immediately retreated into the cave. Noticing that the humans had begun to withdraw, the Orks yelled triumphantly and mindlessly pursued. Perfect.
The Commissar looked back just in time to watch the Demoman, the Soldier, and the Sisters Repentia charge out of the cave with their melee weapons. Their roars almost shook the earth as the greenskins took in the sight of these new strange foes. Their hesitation was their downfall.
The Demoman reached them first. His eyes and weapon began glowing with some kind of energy as he charged forward with a sudden burst of speed and plowed into the nearest unlucky Ork, swinging his sword down at the same time. The sword cut straight through the Ork's neck, slicing his head clean off as his body went flying dozens of meters in the air from the sheer force of the impact from Demoman.
Death from a black Scottish cyclops became a less concerning cause of death as Soldier and the Sisters Repentia arrived, slamming into the lines of the Orks with unparalleled force. The Mistress of Repentance fought with grace and agility as her power sword completely obliterated whatever it came into contact with. The Ork's rusty and scrappy armor was made useless as the superior technology of the Imperium made itself known through the Mistress of Repentance. The Sisters Repentia themselves fought with absolute hatred and determination, screaming wildly as they swung their Eviscerators into the nearest target they could see. Chains ripped apart flesh as the Sisters cleaved through several Orks with each swing, evenly matching the ferocity of the greenskin menace, and proudly displaying the power of faith and fury.
Soldier on the other hand…
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" screamed the Soldier as he swung his blade back and forth with absolute abandon, cutting through Ork flesh and armor like tissue paper. Greenskins were sent flying from the sheer force of his blows alone as the madman tore his way through the green tide with zero regard for his own safety. Blood splattered on the man's uniform, face, and helmet, but he did not care. At the moment, all he could come to care about was killing as many of the bastards as he could. To say that the Soldier matched the Orks in ferocity was in fact not true, for the Soldier far surpassed the Orks' own to the point where many of the Orks began to turn tail and run, only to be trampled by their brethren.
The Medic quickly followed the madmen and madwomen, distributing the power of healing upon those he saw were being overwhelmed or were otherwise injured. He laughed gleefully upon seeing Demoman send another Ork flying high in the air, its head separated from its shoulders. The rest of the group provided some supporting fire, but otherwise, they did not wish to bring harm to their own allies.
The Heavy laughed along with the Medic as he watched the scene unfold before him.
"Ah! Heavy wishes he could join tiny baby men and women in their fight, but Heavy is too slow. It is sad day!" Heavy said, sighing to himself as he envied the ones who got to participate in the melee bout.
The Commissar rubbed his hands over his face as he listened to the team banter with each other. He was so conflicted over how the mercenaries worked. On one hand, they were absolutely amazing combatants with some of the best skills and strength he'd seen in humans. On the other hand, they seemed to be completely insane. Did the concept of self-preservation not apply to them? Why were they so willing to get involved in the riskiest type of combat imaginable? It made sense for the augmented humans in the Adepta Sororitas and the Adeptus Astartes, but it made no sense for unaugmented humans to try the same strategy given their own weaknesses.
The Commissar shook his head as he watched the Soldier violently rip off a slugga boy's head and start using it as a melee weapon. No, these were not unaugmented humans. The feats they had performed should have been proof enough that there was something off about these men. What the issue was exactly… he did not know, but he would damn sure find out later.
"These are the last of the Orks! No more after this!" called out the Sniper from his perch on his rock. He was still shooting from his Sniper rifle continuously, most likely at some of the larger foes they would have had to face. Given what he had seen that man do… he was starting to believe the Engineer about him being the best Sniper on the planet.
"Alright. We'll advance with our brothers and sisters, then. Forward!" called out the Commissar as he began to run out of the cave and fire toward the crowds of Orks in front of him, his guardsmen following closely behind as they took shots at the horde. The Retributors and mercenaries did much of the same, making sure not to fire upon their allies as they fired into the tide.
After a few minutes, it was over. Only a few greenskins were left among the mountains of bodies, and they quickly fell to some casual shots from the group.
As the group climbed over the bodies of the greenskins, they came upon the one they were after. Warboss DreadMaeka.
He was an absolutely massive Ork, far larger than any the team had encountered so far. He stood at about 4 meters in height and wore armor that made him look more like a walking tank than an Ork. He wielded a massive power klaw in his left hand and a scrap assault cannon in his right, alongside a massive flamethrower that was constantly lit and prepared to be utilized. The greenskin laughed as the group approached him confidently, with the Soldier and the Demoman pulling out their primary weapons for the encounter.
"About time I finally met da humies who krumped mah boyz! Ya gitz don't know the surproize I've got waitin' for ya!" the warboss said, raising his arms to his side as he chuckled to himself.
The Imperial group looked at each other in confusion as the warboss turned around.
"Alright, boyz! It'z time ta…" the warboss said, but stopped himself as he took in the sights before him.
The finest Orks of the entire army that he had waiting here for the final showdown between him and the humans were dead. They simply sat there on the ground with either a bullet hole through their skulls or a stab wound in their back, surprised looks on their faces being the only evidence of what could have happened to them.
Warboss DreadMaeka felt rage boiling up inside him as he turned back to the humans. Did he have to do everything himself?!
"WHATEVAH! IMA KRUMP YA GITZ!" yelled the warboss as he charged forward.
Or at least, he tried to. DreadMaeka cried out as his legs suddenly gave out under him and he fell to the floor in a rather embarrassing fashion. The mercenaries that were in front of him began laughing.
To say he was angry was to massively undersell his mood. He was absolutely furious.
"STOP LAUGHIN' AT ME YA DUM HUMIES!" he cried out as he looked at his legs. A weird electric thing was attached to them, and he quickly identified it as the source of his problem and smashed it to pieces. As soon as he regained the function of his legs, he stood up and charged at the group, who quickly began to fire upon him with their weapons.
As soon as they did, an explosion happened across his body as the gasoline that suddenly coated his being ignited. He roared in pain as he felt his flesh melt and give way to the bone. He continued his charge, ignoring the pain in favor of satisfying his bloodlust and rage.
"NOW DOCTOR!" called the Heavy to the Medic. The Heavy advanced to meet the Ork warboss directly, with the Medic following closely behind. The Commissar initially thought it the most foolish thing he had ever seen.
He was wrong.
All of a sudden, the two mercenaries began glowing. Their bodies surged with a red glow, erupting in power as the Heavy yelled loudly, excitement overcoming his emotions as his heart began beating two times faster than normal. He quickly regained his senses as he aimed his minigun at the warboss and opened fire. The warboss howled in pain as he struck the Heavy with his power klaw. Instead of piercing through the glowing man, the power klaw shattered completely, breaking itself on the surface of the Heavy's skin.
The warboss did not have the freedom of yelling out in shock as his body fell apart from the minigun fire, explosives, and flames. Slowly, yet surely, he fell to the ground as his strength began fading away. In a last-ditch attempt, he attempted to lift his assault cannon or flamethrower to at least tag one of the humans in front of him, but quickly found his arm sliced off by the black man with the katana.
Seeing his last hope for damaging the enemy fall to the ground, the warboss gave into his body and fell to the ground, slowly feeling his consciousness fade away as the mercenaries approached his head, staring into him.
An unknown figure appeared before him. All that he could tell was that it was a man in a suit and mask who appeared to be smirking at him.
For the first time in his life, DreadMaeka felt despair. His dream of uniting the Orks on Karabakh had failed, and he had only come off as weak and pathetic to his killers. Was this his legacy? Was he to be known as a cowardly and timid warboss who died with no honor?
He felt miserable.
He could see, though, that the mercenaries felt the opposite. In fact, they were quite cheerful, laughing and smiling at each other as they high-fived each other or bumped fists. He had never seen any humans act the way they did. They were like Orks, but… crazier… somehow. He never thought he would ever think a human crazier than an Ork, but as he looked upon the mercenaries, it was all on his mind in his final moments. He used what little strength he had left to speak.
"You'z… gitz… crazy… you'z damn crazy…" he said, struggling to get the words out as he closed his eyes for the final time.
"You're damn right, greenskin," said the masked man.
—
Commissar Dane looked on in shock at the Ork warboss's corpse. Did he just…?
It seemed like he was the only one who was concerned as the Sisters Repentia cheerfully gave their thanks to the Emperor, the Retributors checked their weapons, and the guardsmen high-fived each other. Only Sergeant Leon seemed to be having any issues as he observed the man staring at the scene before him with unease.
This needed to be reported immediately. He could ignore it no longer. These men were absolutely insane.