With a crackle, the vox connecting you to the driver's compartment springs to life. "Attention, we are arriving at the front in a few moments, prepare yourselves to run for the trenches as soon as the hatch opens. This transport is moving to drop you off and then moving out for another load."

The driver's weary voice indicated he had done this song and dance a lot of times before. And the faded stains on the hatch dark-red stains on the hatch seemed to indicate a lot of the preceding passengers didn't run fast enough. With the hiss of hydraulics, the chimera slowed down to a halt. The faint sound of a frontline could be heard from outside. The distant drumming of artillery batteries exchanging fire. The occasional salvo of gunfire, and other than that... the dead silence.

With a hiss, the hatch opens, and a wartorn battlefield comes into view. A vast network of trenches, tunnels and bunkers sprawls out on your side, and the jagged forms of the orks simplistic fortifications loom in the distance. Directly in front of you is a ramp heading down in the trenches. Your path is clear.

The arrival of your transport seems to have drawn some attention from a roving band of the xenos scum. You see a group of orks emerge from a nearby crater, chanting loud war cries and holding their crude blades aloft. You better get in position and assist in the crossfire. By the look of things, these trenches will turn into a meatgrinder if the greenskins get close.