The World of Gulgath, M40

They were surrounded, hordes of vicious alien brutes pressing at them from all sides. They tried to fight back, spitting hundreds of heavy bolter rounds in the horde but here were too many. One by one, they climbed the indomitable, and with super human strength, they ripped the plasteel plates off the turret. They sized the crew one by one, desperate cries for aid went unanswered as the barbarians tore into them, and desecrated the indomitable, offering it was a tribute to foul, unholy gods as they laughed.

Jeffrey was jolted to attention, waking from a particularly painful nightmare. He had been taking a power nap, the crew had rest after patrolling for four hours straight. A week had passed since their first fateful encounter, where they had narrowly escaped the jaws of death. For their efforts, they were taken from active patrol in enemy territory and instead tasked with patrolling imperial lines and assisting with any calls for aid that came up. After their last debacle, high command decided to simply level the forests close to imperial lines. Entire batteries of basilisks and demolishers flattened the landscape and likely drove many of the greenskins hiding there back.

As much as he enjoyed the thoughts of those barbarian bastards be blasted, it did little to ease his troubleed mind. Despite trying to steel himself and vowing to survive this war, he was still haunted by his experience and the near inevitability of seeing combat again. Nightmares haunted him consistently and he wasn't sure if he would ever be free again from that torment. He had asked Captain Ronan about and received as a less than reassuring answer. Some people could get over it, with therapy, time and the proper medication. Unfortunately he wouldn't have any of these things, at least not yet. But at least companionship of sort seemed to dull the edge, for at least he others around that could relate.

One by one they mounted back into the tank, taking their stations as they resumed their patroll. "Status check" Ronan order over the comms, a groan was the first response from the crew for there wasn't much to check on, since barely anything had changed since the last check. They all knew why he was ordering the check though, it was to keep their skills sharp and train them to keep the tanks status on their minds at all times.

"Canon ammo is full sir, twenty four rounds of HE, and twelve rounds of AP" replied Ifa as he recounted their Canon's ammunition. "Heavy bolter is primed and load, safety is on, and there are thee thousand rounds ready to go" Ladislo chimed in. "Controls are fine" Ivo candidly replied, causing Ronan to frown at the lack of detail to the response. "Vids are all clear and in working order, canon is properly sighted" Jeffrey finally replied, checking all of the feeds and calibrations.

The next several hours passed as theadt several days had, with them traveling through outposts, settlements, and fortifications. All these posts started to blend together, as Jeffery's mind wracked with boredom. He hadn't been expecting such egregious tediom to so vexing, since was already well acquainted with boredom. It was the very real thought that at any second

they could be in danger, no matter how remote the odds, that kept him tense and alert. The mental strain of boredom and dread was a terrible mix indeed, one that almost made him wish he wash in combat again.

To stave off boredom he turned to using his thoughts to conjure up something of interest. This worked for a while at least, until he ran out of things of interest to deliberate. So through was his boredom that he spent almost an hour contemplating who it was that made their regimental flag. There were so many other regiments, each with presumably their own flags as well, there were bound to be duplicates. What if two regiments had the exact same flag, would they fight over who gets to use it? That and other such meaningless thoughts plagued his mind as he tried to stay awake and focused.

Perhaps to answer his subconscious need for something meaningful to think about, the vox comms came alive once more as post nearby to their position called for help. "Are you ready boys?" Ronan called, clearly trying to pep up the crew for the carnage to come, interpid mumering was the response as only Ladislo seemed enthused. "I said are you ready?" He repeated, this time with more force in his voice. "Sir, yes sir!" The crew replied, more energetically this time.

The call for aid came from a fort roughly twelve miles away. It was a forward operating post named quiet fittingly "forelorn hope". It had a garrison of a little over three platoons. It had been established a little over six months ago and was mostly defended by hastily constructed metal walls and earthen defenses. A handful of towers were the primary armaments where assault canons could cover the plains surrounding the base and the forest to the east.

The indomitable dashed through rough terrain, speeding towards the base and uncertain of what they would find. Checking their map location on their data slates, they stop close to where the base should be. A quick reconnaissance mission indicated that the base was downhill from their location and that it was currently under attack. Hundreds of Orks were advancing towards the base, though dozens had been cut down by las fire. The disciplined volleys of the infantry were not enough however and they would soon be overrun.

Ronan wasn't about to let that happen and he ordered the crew to open fire. Before that however, he had made sure that the indomitable had pulled back slightly, just to make sure that the underbelly of the vehicle wasn't exposed and any retaliatory fire would have to directed towards the glacius plate and front of the turret. Their position would make it more difficult to open fire, especially for the heavy bolter, so they would have to adjust accordingly.

Jeffrey focused on the vid feeds and used the range finders to pick his targets and aim accordingly. "Fire, HE" ordered Ronan as the appropriate shell was loaded. The high explosive shell was fired and struck their first target which was a squad of Orks making their way across the plains towards the base. The shell was a little off the mark but exploded a few feet away from the Orks. Shrapnel tore in the Orks as did the sheer force of the explosion, several Orks

were knocked off there feet, whilst others disappeared into a mist of bone and flesh. The second shell detonated in front of another group of Orks killing half a dozen more.

The Orks however, proved to be much tougher than Jeffrey had anticipated. Several refused to die, even with limbs torn off and large gashes blown into their bodies. A third shell was loaded and ready to fire when Jeffrey spotted a large truck like vehicle emerge from the east, the truck had plates of iron hastily bolted on. What caught his attention was the small canon on top of the truck and thus called out it's location. " Enemy armor 2,100 feet east!" He called.

Ronan order them to fire and their shot was slightly wide impacting the ground six feet away from the truck. The force of the explosion was enough to cause the truck to spin out and the drive to lose balance and the truck tipped over. A second round finished it off, leaving a satisfying fireball and hunk of twisted metal. The crew didn't have much time to celebrate their first armor kill, for a second truck came speeding from the same direction. Another shell was hastily loaded and fired, this time the truck dodged it by being faster than expected, it's red paint almost taunting the crew with how easy it was to spot but difficult to hit. After giving the second round more lead time, this time it was a direct impact and another satisfying kill.

The crew celebrated another armor kill, that was until a different beast emerged form the east, this time it was all too familiar shape. The indomitable seemed rev up in anger as an Ork modified Leman Russ rumbled onto the battlefield. A deadly game speed, skill and luck began as the two tanks opened fire on each other. The Orks were faster and their sheel barely missed the indomitable as it glanced off the turret. The indomitable responded in kind but was unable to pierce the Ork's Russ at this range. Both tanks grew closer as they each looked for the killing blow.

Several more volleys passed between the two tanks as this desperate dance of death continued. Ronan was sure to keep the high ground and tried to keep as much cover as possible. The Orks however were not as cautious and paid for it, as they left themselves exposed by speed up over a small mound to try and close the distance. Ronan sized the opportunity and order them to open fire on the exposed underbelly of the enemy. The trick worked and the underbelly armor was pierced and the tank exploded.

Jeffrey took a deep breath, calming himself after several minutes of intense fighting. He looked to see a single figure emerge from the wreckage. It was a large Ork, easily over eight feet and decked with heavy armor that was painted a dark orange. The armor seemed a lot like that of Astartes, as it seemed to be a power armor of some kind. In the Orks hands were two gauntlets, each had power claws on them that crackled with electric energy. The gauntlets were also armed with small rocket launchers, upon seeing them Jeffrey had a flash back and with his horror realized that this was the Ork that lead the assault that almost killed him.

Almost as if the Ork could sense his fear, the Ork lifted his left hand and shot out a rocket which hit the left tracks of the indomitable and immobilized it for the time at least. The Ork lifted his

right and was about to fire, that was until Ladislo opened up on them with the heavy bolter. The bolt rounds staggered the Ork long enough for another round to be loaded and fired. The round hit the Ork but failed to penetrate due to an azure forcefield that cracked to light just before impact. The Ork laughed and pointed at the indomitable, almost as if challenging it.

The assault canons from the towers however opened fire and knocked the Ork back. The Ork took once last look at the indomitable, bellowing another laugh, as if it promised that this wouldn't be the last time that their paths would cross. Then the Ork withdrew alongside the rest of the Orks assaulting the base. Jeffrey nearly collapsed from the mental exhaustion. "Welp now it looks like have a rivalry and it just so happened to be with the biggest and baddest Ork they could find" he thought to himself.

The indomitable would quickly be repaired and the crew would be given some time off as well as a medal and a the "honor" of having their pauldrons painted and thus no longer being "whiteshields". Apparently the Ork they decided to piss off was a Nob by the name of Azurk Ironhide. Azurk used to be a Warboss of his own tribe, that was until he was subsumed into Kurg's WAAGH. Azurk had reportedly fought both the Mechanicus and Astartes before and survived to tell the tale and now it would be after them. Jeffrey cursed to himself as he recalled the legendary stories he had heard of Orks and their rivalries such as that between Pedro Kantor and Arch arsonist, or that of Yarick and Ghaz Kull.

He knew that despite not believing in fate, that they would encounter Azurk once again and settle the score once and for all.