The Emperor's finest Chapter Thirteen

Kheive, M40

Jeffrey had been right with his hunch, after just a week of training command fed him and crew back into the frontlines and from the looks of it, into a major battle. He did the best he could with the time he had, and now he just had to hope it was enough. In particular they had gone over basic maintenance, maneuvering, and firing drills. The last of which was the most troublesome. They had wasted value time due to his reluctance and trepidation. He had to summon tech adept Malle Katell to help give proper instructions on how to safely fire the executioner cannon.

It turns out that the cannon has many safety features built in, but due to the delicacy of the equipment they couldn't afford to be careless. As a result they didn't get nearly as much time simply firing the weapon and "getting a feel for it" as his previous crew did for the battle cannon. They did get some experience, though he was of little help in that regard. The executioner cannon didn't fire traditional shells like the battle cannon did, instead it fired spheres of super heated gas or plasma. The plasma didn't seem to quiet the same weight or heft, so they didn't have to account for the drop of gravity.

The travel time for the burst of plasma was notably longer, and the range was shorter though not substantially so. While he wasn't quite comfortable with their experience, he had picked up some useful tips for the adept. Namely the safe cool down period between rounds was roughly twenty seconds, he could fire faster if absolutely needed but it was most definitely not advised. He made the practice of timing the interlude by counting under his breath using a cadence suggested by the adept.

From the looks of it, he would certainly need that tip as he turned his attention to the task in front of them. They were to be a part of an armored push to the last Ork held city on Kheive. The imperial offensive had been surprisingly effective, having taken the rest of the cities and territory including Kursk. They had suffered many thousands of casualties but command was used to such grievous losses. There was a fear however, that the offensive was going too well. Resistance was lower than expected comparatively few Orks had been reportedly engaged.

This didn't sit well with many of his higher ranking commanders and Jeffrey couldn't help but agree. The greenskins were unlikely to go down without a fight, they were likely amassing all their forces into one major counter attack. This hypothesis became more likely when one considers that the last city they held, was a large city named Sevastopol. It was the industrial captial of the world and had several factories within it. No doubt the greenskins would be using those resources to pump out ramshackle contraptions by the dozens if not hundreds.

Jeffrey suspected there was more reason for commands concerns, reasoning that the prospect of Ork reinforcements may have plaid their hand. While there no Ork ships in the system, at least none that he knew of, there was no telling what the void could spew forth. The prospect of greenskin savages raining down from the skies like rain would be enough to keep any sane man up at night.

"Sir?".

Jeffrey blinked as he snapped back to attention, apparently caught zoning out by his gunnery sergeant Kios. He had chosen Kios for the position due to his professionalism and prior training, it was the obvious choice really. Jeffrey straigned in his seat, still getting used to being in the commanders chair rather than the gunner's. He tried his best to maintain an air of aloofness and authority, he owed his crew a veneer of confidence as filmsy as it was. He had remained distant from the crew, always encouraging team work and keeping them on track. He didn't have it in his heart to open up too much, both to maintain authority but also because he was afraid of losing genuine companions again.

"Keep going, maintain formation" he ordered softly over the vox.

The indomitable rolled steadily, keeping lockstep with the other vehicles around, forming a lose formation of dozens of rows and columns of vehicles of various kinds. This was massive operation, requirng over a dozen armoured regiments and dozens of armored infantry regiments. Roughly two hundred Russ's, a thousand chimeras, several thousand sentinels and a few hundred hellhounds to boot. Or at least that was what the briefing said, and wasn't exactly to bother counting them all.

The terrain ahead of them was wide open, with nothing but cracked and ruined concrete and blasted ground and dirt. The only cover came from wrecked civilian and military vehicles that hadn't been scraped by the Orks yet, as well as crators, likely from previous shellings and aireal sorties. In other words, it was a death trap, a virtual "no mans land" if there ever was one. Or at least that was what Jeffrey thought as they approached Sebastopol.

They were still several miles out when the city came properly into view, the whole city seemingly exuded the smoke of poorly maintained industry as the facories inside were likely overworked beyond their specifications. The drab, rundown, and damaged buildings did little to draw his attention. What did draw his attention were the many thousands of bikes, trucks and looted vehicles outlined the city and stood directly between them and the city.

His vox erupted with orders and reports from the various tanks around him as the acting commander, Colonel Ekos issued engagement orders. Soon a cacophony of cannon fire erupted around them as the other Russ's engaged. They weren't quite in range, so the indomitable surged forward to take a particularly good bit of geographical depression to use as cover. A wall of steel soon set it self up between the indomitable and the advancing enemy, Colonel Ekos having decided that the indomitable's Executioner cannon was a valuable asset to protect.

Jeffrey obviously didn't object and he quickly set out to pick his targets carefully. He ordered the indomitable to open fire, the tank being briefly illuminated in a dazzling green hue as a power of a miniature sun was unleashed on the battlefield. Their first shot however was a miss, coming short of the battle wagon they were aiming at. Instead they hit several bikers, vaporizing the Orks with all wrath of the Emperor himself.

The Orks however weren't cowed by such might and returned fire on the imperials, their comically large machine guns did little against the armor of the Russ's but they managed to pierce weak points in some of the softer targets like the scout sentinels. Many of the bikes had rockets as well and theu proved to be deadlier, but the distance and the Orks like of firing

discipline meant that most missed their targets. A few unlucky imperial vehicles were cast down by this volley, such as a hellhound that was penetrated and had it's deadly promethium turned against it's crew.

Jeffrey had little time to think about such things as he called out targets of opportunity, such as enemy Russ's and dreads. One by one, they fire bright green death at the enemy, reaping a considerable talley. It felt good to destroy so many greenskins, finally getting to vent his vengeance, but this relieft turned to frustration as the greenskin hordes kept pressing towards them.

The two waves of iron clashed in a confusing melee, more akin to a drunken brawl between fans in a sporting event than a discipled battle. The indomitable took what shots it could, using it's hull mounted heavy bolter to try and soften up the lighter armored targets. Every twenty one seconds or so they fired around, the enemy so dense that they hardly needed to aim to hit something.

For a second Jeffrey hoped that they would hold, perhaps even wiping out the Orks in one fell swoop. That hope was dashed as a massive armored vehicle, lumbered from the smoke obscuring much of the city. It was closer to a moving mountain than any vehicle he had ever seen before. What must be hundreds of tons of scrap metal pushed towards imperial lines. This "stompa" as some of the other commanders liked to call it, swipped aside the imperial armor wherever it hit.

What truly caught Jeffrey's eye was the large Ork riding the Stompa's shoulder. He instantly recognized Azurk as the Warboss laughed manically at the destruction wrought before him. Azurk then turned his attention towards the indomitable, raising his power claw and sending a shiver down Jeffrey's spine.

"Son of a -" Jeffrey thought to himself bitterly.