Herold had thought he would have gotten used to the chaotic warp magic of the Psyker, but feeling the tingle of his skin and the odd feeling in his gut, he knew he had been mistaken. The explosion of the gun and the Ork was well placed, but it had announced their location a bit too much for his liking. Still, unless the Sororitas ordered him to unload his combat shotgun into the Psyker, then they were stuck with her still. He could tell that the others had to visibly hold themselves back from what he was just considering.

"Agreed," Herold said to both Aviza and the Death Korp trooper. "Let's get moving." He made sure for the umpteenth time that his weapon was locked and loaded, and he started to head out of the room they were in with the others. He kept his shield on his back to guard against flanking shots, and his shotgun in his hands and at the ready. He had an inkling feeling that the explosion was about to bite them in the ass somehow, but Emperor's mercy, they'd see soon enough.

"I had my shield for that, I'd be fiiiiine." Adrianne said through her mask as she got back up on her feet, brushing some dirt and grime off her armor and suit.

It was currently raining, and fortunately, the dirt and mud didn't attach itself so easily to her suit or metal armor. As for her cloth however, that was a different story entirely.

"This is a forge world. I suppose I should feel lucky I'm not wading through pools of industrial waste I suppose... !"

"Agreed, Celestian. I can already feel the growing anger and anticipation echo back from the warp to this place. We have made the surrounding greenskins excited." Adrianne explained as she followed Aviza back to where the rest of the group were currently keeping overwatch.

The constantly dripping of rain against her helmet and surrounding force works and buildings made it difficult to notice any lesser sounds, yet the Psyker could already hear off in the distance the low but booming sounds of ramshackled engines and gunfire, slowly coming closer towards their position!

"The Orks are on the move. We can simply bypass them, or set up an ambush. The greenskins are nothing if not predictable."

“We?” The question hung in the air like an accusation, which is was, the slightly robotic tone signalling that it clearly came from within the beaked helmet now looking directly at the dirtied psyker and then the Celestian beside her, “we did not such thing.”

Until the explosion had happened the Deathwatch marine had been near-completely still, his senses on high alert and his sidearm held ready at his side, the explosion doing nothing but showering him with a little dirt and fragments of what had been the Imperial gun emplacement. None of this really mattered, not even as the two got to their feet and the rest of the group prepared to move out, but something about the witches last comment had caused a reaction within the Astartes.

In one fluid motion he moved to stand before the previously grounded pair, his visor sweeping once more from one to the other, before settling on Aviza.

“Sister, I have so far held my tongue, and due to my allegiance to the Emperor's holy Inquisition I would not question your orders.” Even now he could smell a thousand differing scents, his beaked helmet only amplifying them, and the Greenskins were certainly on the move, “but the plan was foolhardy from the very beginning; our gunfire could well have been covered by the thunderstorm around us, a fortuitous sign to my own people if no-one else, but this...this...” One gauntleted fist raised itself, a finger extending to point at Adrienne even though he did not turn to look at her, “her actions are laughable at best and absurd at the worst, she is volatile and unstable and this,” he emphasised with a nod of his head toward the twisted wreckage, “was both unnecessary and the action that will bring the Greenskins down upon us, not we but you.”

Only now did he look to the psyker, taking a slight step toward her and then freezing, studying her for a moment before straightening up, “my own progenitor argued with the Emperor himself to save our Librarians from disbandment during the Crusade, and my own people view the Stormseers with reverence, but you Adrianne Valenthin, you stay away from me.” With the same fluid motions he made the sign of the Aquila across his chest, not easy when one is holding a pistol the size of a man's head in your hand, and half turned away, “there are a dozen vehicles at least heading in our direction, and the idea of bypassing them does appeal. In my hearts and in my blood though, I would prefer to face them in combat.”

Glancing back at the Celestian he gave a shrug, a curiously human gesture for a Space Marine to make, “the decision goes to you, Sister-Celestian Norea.”

Without another word, his footfall muffled both by his armour and the rainstorm around them, he stepped out of the building and past the group of smaller figures, already putting the psyker from his thoughts and focusing more on the threat approaching them at high speed.

How he wished once more that he had his bike.

A lone guardsman wades his way through a field of dead bodies, ork or human, there was no difference. A lasgun in hand, he keeps his guard up and mind steady, it's inevitable that at any moment he would be killed. Below his feet are many layers of dead men, all from different stretches of the empire, all brave and loyal men of the imperium. Ahead is another silhouette of a guardsman, maybe, it was too hard to make out with his wounds, he came into view slowly, dropping to his knees, the lone surviving guardsman wasn't alone, he sprinted towards the kneeling figure, and held him in his arms.
"What happened...?" The once kneeling guardsman asked, the survivor grit his teeth and forced himself not to cry.



A day earlier

The guardsman stood ready and waiting for his coming death, his brothers in arms stood beside him waiting for the same.
"It's almost like they aren't coming." One of them said.
"Why take millions of us off world to fight an enemy we have yet to see." Another said, the guardsman looked to them with a fire in his eyes.
"What are you saying?" He asked, not expecting an answer he continued, "The Emperor has every right to do with us what he pleases.", a weary eyed sergeant cut into the conversation, pulling the two heretics by the collar.
"QUIET DOWN! If the Commisar heard you two then you would consider yourselves lucky, you'll be dead before the orks arrive.", a quick and sharp order from the sergeant piped them down before they could say any more, they didn't need to, the whaaag of the orks can already be heard, the beat of their boots against the dirt.
"FORM A FIRING LINE! OPEN FIRE ON MY COMMAND!" The commisar shouted, a number of men fell backwards in fear and a number more decided a clean shot from the commissars' laspistol would be better than being ripped apart by the green tide. Five clean shots and they were dead, it was enough to bring the others back to their feet and ready to die in the name of the Imperium. The green skins came into view, their axes raised and their autoguns cocked, the guardsman was afraid, and even more afraid of the commisar, he will die here.
"OPEN FIRE!", a flurry of lights and the front row of orks hit the dirt with burning holes in their chests, another volley and the next row fell, again and again and eventually they came close enough to be hit by turret fire, the sound of the large bolter rounds being fired left the guards ears bleeding.
"FIX BAYONETS!", the guard was given only a moment of time to force the long blade into the lasgun, many had trouble but the guardsman fixed it quick and clean before a group of Gretchen made their way into the trench, two managed to steal away his lasgun and shoot another before he wrestled them to the ground and snapped their necks, stealing back his lasgun.
"CHARGE!" The commisar snapped, the remaining Gretchen were killed and the many guardsman still remaining rose to find that the ork horde had made its way to only a meter in front of them, the few brave men who charged were mowed down first, their armour easily ripped through by the strength of the grown ork, the guardsman charged too but was hit back by the butt of an ork autogun, knocked unconscious.



Present

The wounded guardsman cried and spit blood, he grabbed the lone survivors' armour to hold himself up.
"Don't let me die, please... please...", the lone survivor held his hand firmly.
"My name is Estrus, only in death does duty end." He said triumphantly, a moment passed and he lay the man down, he served the Imperium with honour, it was only fitting Estrus did the same. He rose after some time and continued down his set path, Estrus knew where the Orks were, and he knew who needed this information, the inquisition wouldn't let an imperial Titan go to waste on an ork infested planet. It's probably where they were or where they are heading, both parties, both sides, inquisition and Ork.

Aviza stopped midstep, swiftly turning to face the Astartes while the space marine continued to speak. She let him finish his ranting before replying to him in a lower, more aggressive and threatening tone than any of them had heard her speak before. “For someone of your caliber, I would expect you to do exactly that. Since you felt it necessary to question my orders and motives in front of the squad, and even going as far as to threatening our sanctioned Psyker, and possibly even myself, I will remind you of something very important. Inquisitor Solares put you under my command, you will do as I say without question, you will not comment negatively upon anyone in the squad as to hurt moral, you will do as you are told swiftly and to the letter without question, or you can return to the Imperial Guardsmen facility from which we came and wait while I explain to Inquisitor Solares that a member of the Deathwatch that is under my command went against my orders, threatened members of the squad, which include myself and that he is not fit for duty. You would be wise to keep in mind that if you were anything below a Space Marine, what you have done would be grounds for summary execution. Am I clear enough for you to understand or should I have Inquisitor Solares tell you in person what you have done wrong once she arrives?”

The storm above them was growing in strength, the rain now came down harder and hail pelted their armor while winds blew against them violently. The small motion tracker upon the HUD that was built into Aviza's visor started to flash, showing figures heading their way, and quite a few of them at that. "We have incoming, if this Astartes want's to the fight the Ork's then we shall let him do just that. Fall back into the armored bunker and set up a line of fire, you are free to engage when you see fit." Aviza motioned for the squad to follow her into the heavily reinforced bunker near them and quickly stepped inside. The interior had a set of heavy weapons upon a weapon rack that was attached to a wall near the small slits that showed out of the bunker. Three of the weapons were rocket launchers, and were already loaded and ready to be fired. The Celestian grabbed one of the rocket launchers and handed it to the Krieger, then one to the Merc, and the third to the Astartes, shoving it against him roughly. "Watch your back blast and pick your targets, they don't have much ammo so let's make them count." She, herself, took a heavy flamer and prepped the weapon.

The face of the White Scar remained completely blank as his superior officer – in the Inquisitorial hierarchy if nothing else – gave him a dressing down that was probably doing more damage to moral than anything he had said. Inside his helmet his features remained as still as the visor on the outside, and, although he could have snapped back with any number of comments, it was both pointless and would likely fall on deaf ears anyway.

Was there something going on between the Celestian and the psyker? Nergüi clearly did not understand humans as well as another human, but she had gotten very defensive over what he considered to be a perfectly reasonable series of comments.

What would she have done, he wondered, if he had simply walked back to the Imperial facility? Court-martial him, if they even survived the oncoming Greenskin horde? No, he was too valuable a commodity for such a wasteful thing. Perhaps they would have made it back, and he assumed that he would likely have had to speak with Inquisitor Solares, but beyond that...

"We have incoming, if this Astartes want's to the fight the Ork's then we shall let him do just that. Fall back into the armored bunker and set up a line of fire, you are free to engage when you see fit."

So be it.

The squad filtered in to the bunker, a well-sized building that would provide adequate protection from most enemy fire, the ceiling high enough that even he could nearly stand up to his full height. Quickly he took in the rack of heavy weapons, runes on his HUD showing there dimensions in excruciating detail, the Astartes not even rocking back as a rocket launcher was thrust hard into his hands.

"Watch your back blast and pick your targets, they don't have much ammo so let's make them count."

What he would have given for an Armourbane Pattern missile launcher at this moment, hefting the highly more common and less reliable Cadian Pattern tube onto his shoulder while creating a small stockpile of ammunition nearby.

“Enemy in sight. Please, give me some room.”

With an ease born from both genetics and training, he loaded a Krak missile into the launcher and lifted it to point out of the bunkers slot. As there was nowhere for him to place his eye, a Guard launcher not really fit for one of his type, he cycled through a number of filters within his helmet until he reached one that caused the rain and lightning to melt away – leaving only the thundering vehicles that approached their last known position.

Schematics for an Ork warbuggie flashed up to the top-right of his eye, a blink-click phasing it out as he concentrated on the moving target. Adjusting his aim so that it was a few feet in front of the hurtling machine, water skidding from the tires and the dark skin of the boyz in the open-topped rear, he squeezed the trigger and felt the missile launcher jolt as it sent the payload screaming toward where the vehicle now was.

Nergüi smiled with satisfaction as the front cabin of the foremost buggy erupted into flames, the death howls of the Greenskins sending a swift flow of blood through his twin hearts, his entire body feeling more alive than it had since landing, and even as the mass of metal overturned and crashed into an already ruined wall he was reaching for another missile.

Although perfectly hidden behind her skeletal mask, her facial expression which had originally been one of reverence when the Astartes approached her had quickly turned into a deep frown, and then into a scowl!

"Not like I'm to blame for this stealth mission blowing up... literally... it already did so the moment we fired our first bolter."

However, any reply that the Psyker may have thought of in her head was suddenly cut off as Aviza intervened between them, giving Nergui a rebuke that served to demonstrate every bit of the sister's affiliation with the Ecclesiarchy! Adrianne couldn't help but stand back and watch, nodding slightly.

As they later filtered into the bunker, Adrianne took a moment to walk beside Aviza.

"Hey, thanks for that, by the way." She said, offering a smile although hidden behind her helmet, before they entered the bunker.

Adrianne was used to being blamed for various things, though also to ignore it and walk without regrets, for arguing back was usually pointless, and sometimes even dangerous if it was some important imperial official. It was all a part of being a Psyker, after all.

*

*BOOM*

"WAAAAAAGHH!"

As the first buggy went up in flames in front of them, the greenskins let out a warcry in unison; seemingly being more excited by seeing the first buggy blown up than anything else!

One Ork warbike simply hit the gas instead, using some debris to the side like a ramp as he flew over the burning wreckage of the buggy, landing with a heavy crunch in the dirt, wheels spinning as he drove onwards.
Behind, a loud crashing sound could be heard as another warbuggy slammed into the burning wreckage with a crude, spiked plough affixed to the front of the vehicle, pushing it aside as it entered into the clearing before the bunker!

"DA 'UMIE GITZ ARE IN THE BUNKER, LET'S GET EM BOYS!"

The Ork mounted in the back of the buggy pulled the warbuggy's twin-linked dakkagun towards the bunker, letting out a mix between a roar and wild laughter as he opened full automatic fire; the bunker suddenly being sprayed by a wall of inaccurate but plentiful Ork dakka that was probably more dangerous to any Ork near the bunker than the occupants themselves!

The warbike in the meantime roared towards the bunker, the Ork riding it pulling out a satchel like object from the side of his warbike and started waving it about as he rapidly approached!

The Krieger was, unsurprisingly, extremely quiet as the argument between the superior officer, in this case the Celestian, and the Deathwatch Apothecary continued. As far as the Grenadier was concerned, speaking out against a superior when they were acting within their station was grounds for summary punishment. Whether that meant execution or otherwise was of little concern, as like most of his kind, he'd not seen disciplinary actions occur once actually trained and deployed in regiments. Training while growing up saw such things happen, but it was meant more to mold the subject vice punish them, so it was commonplace to hear of Kriegers who had been disciplined in their youth growing to be fine military leaders. But that was nothing worth pursuing, thought wise, feeling a sense of relief when they made their way towards a bunker.

Standard Cadian pattern of construction, likely a local mix of concrete with duraseteel bar reinforcements to prevent shattering from creating glaring openings after one explosive hit. He preferred Death Korp approaches to bunkers, being built far more sturdily, but then again, he did not expect generalist Guard regiments to understand how to dig in properly for the long haul. They had no excuse not to, but they were not held to as high of standards. Being handed a Cadian Pattern Missile Launcher, he would have preferred a Mk.III Mars Pattern, the model issued to Krieger heavy weapon teams, but once again, he was hardly amongst his own kind. The Deathwatch Apothecary had already taken out a target, though this did little but excite the greenskins. Sweeping his gaze, Ansgar spotted what looked like a crude bike with an ork waving what was very much a demolition charge, of their sort. Rather than waste a krak missile and likely miss, due to the things small size and speed, he rested the missile launcher against the wall, safed to prevent misfire, and lifted his Type XIV (Heavy) to his shoulder.

Bringing the 4x sights online, Ansgar took aim on the waving ork's arm. Normally, this kind of shot would have been extremely difficult with a conventional lasgun, or any sort of weapon that would require multiple shots to cook off the orkish explosives prematurely. As he exhaled, he fired off a tight burst of hotshot las rounds, and all it took was the last one to hit the charge to do precisely what the Grenadier suspected would happen. Upon impact, the lasround caused the charge to detonate, tearing the Ork and his crude bike quickly to shreds. Quickly slinging the Type XIV (Heavy), Ansgar picked up the Missile Launcher again, resting it on his shoulder and, unlike the Astartes, took quick aim using its sights. The incoming fire phased the Grenadier little, getting shot at while trying to aim was business as usual for all of them really, and before firing, Ansgar gave the rest of the group in the bunker fair warning. "Firing, stand clear!"

With that, he loosed a missile, krak in variant, and the missile flew low across the ground, almost brushing against the dirt and grass, hitting scant feet before the plow equipped war buggy, blasting a rather deep crater into the ground. At first glance, it was a miss, but the buggy quickly proved otherwise, not having time to avoid it, the plow digging down into the ground as the warbuggey hit the sudden pit in the ground would be bringing it to a rather unpleasant sounding stop. Ansgar saw the stop throwing one of the Orks clean from the wrecked warbuggy, and hitting the ground rather roughly, and that plow buggy would not only be stuck, but brute forcing it out of the way would not be nearly as easy, slowing the advance of any orks behind it. Ensuring that the magazine attached to the Cadian missile launcher had loaded the next krak missile, Ansgar began taking aim for his next target.

The Arbites, Herold Ortega, was torn during the argument. On the one hand, he was merely a tool of the Emperor's will, which meant he would follow the Imperial superiors who led him to the letter. However, the Deathwatch Astartes, while speaking of out turn, had a point and voiced what everyone must have been thinking about the Psyker. He was glad the Celestian knew not to condemn the Astartes on the spot, but merely lecture him. They would need the armored super human very soon.

The group ran toward the armored bunker, the Arbites just beside them. Rain spattered off his carapace armor and dribbled down his half-face helm. He licked his lips, glad that this world didn't have poisonous rain in the atmosphere. His thundering boots thudded into the already ankle-deep puddles as he hustled into cover. Before he arrived in the dryness of the bunker, he had his combat shotgun primed and ready.

Just as soon as he vaulted over the first window-sill, bullets from shootas ricocheted around him. He grunted and planted himself below the cover, his companion began readying themselves to fire back. Herold checked to make sure he still had his grenades, before he grimly lifted himself off of the ground to face the lumbering and howling Xenos that even now bore down on their position. He lifted his shotgun, aiming the powerful weapon like most guardsmen would aim a rifle.

Herold was no Space Marine, but he was still imposing for a human, and the kickback from his combat shotgun was minimal in his grip. He fired off a slug, accurately taking an Ork in the collarbone. His next slug punched into the Ork's throat, causing the bestial Xenos to tumble and gasp, clawing at the wet ground in his death throes. Herold pumped the shotgun, and took out the Ork behind that one was well, ripping off apart of its huge head.

His next few shots were more general in direction, meaning to provide cover fire for the others more than anything. Missiles streaked past his shoulder, courtesy of the Krieger troop and the Astartes. Herold saw this spurred other Xenos to an even greater frenzy, even as their comrades died and their armor was blasted to bit. Herold began to fire more accurately once more, putting slugs into every Ork that made it closer than 30 yards, reloading with a swift, practiced ease when needed.

"IT'S ON NOW, BOYZ!"

With roaring engines and fire and sparks spouting from their rickety engines, three orks mounted atop their spiked and heavily armored warbikes would come flying through the smoke filled air next to the crashed warbuggy, one of them inadvertently driving over the buggy's driver before the Ork himself was then taken out by Herold as well!

"LET EM HAV' SOME OF THE GOOD STUFF!"

One of the Orks shouted out, as a pair of spindly gretchin mounted on the back of their warbikes began to scramble through the satchels and containers, pulling out some bundles of stikkbombs seeping with some heavy green gunk! Whilst the Ork bikers themselves were trying to take random potshots at the bunker with their Sluggas and missing wildly, the Gretchin would toss out their bundle of Fungus Stukkbombs! They would land in front of the bunker, before they started spewing out a thick, green carpet of heavy fungus gas that seeped out in every direction, including down into the bunker as any visibility with the cloud in front of them was effectively reduced to zero!

Yet, just before the thick cloud would obscure their vision entirely, they would barely be given a glimpse of an Ork wartrakk, carrying a set of dual-linked Rokkit launchas mounted on its back with a very impatient Ork behind it that constantly roared profanities at the driver, urging him to get closer! The driver, equally impatient; would instead of trying to drive around the crashed warbuggy before them, simply push the gas and start driving straight over the entire buggy; the sound of grinding gears, screaming engines and metal being bent and broken being heard all the way to the bunker as the wartrakk slowly but surely drove straight over the fallen buggy, its engines working at full and belching out a thick black carpet behind it - right before the last bit of visibility was lost to the bunker as the thick green cloud rose up all in front of them!

"Welp... This is why I have this. Just aim after the beam..." Vala said as she pulled her Nova sniper cannon and took aim at the direction of where the ork wartrakk was approaching from. The greenskins weren't exactly know for planning and schemes so yeah... they would be still more than likely approaching from that direction without any changes. Luckily she wasn't affectd by teh gas due her helmet, but the visibility difficulty was non the less annoying. In this smoke wasteing a rocket was going to be quite the loss too. She flicked off the Las weapon to full power and pulled the trigger after aiming in the direction. The roar of hte laser was hard to miss as the beam cut through the cloud easily being seen.

The laser was designed for a few seconds continues beam since it depleted the cannon cells that rapidly for a reason. It did impact hte wartrakk indeed, she wasn't sure exactly where it hit but it sure as hell hit. She could hear the sizzling sound almost. Even from the cover of the cloud the heated to bright glowing white aroudn where the Nova punctured through the metal could be seen. She was already aiming for the second shot though if she didnt' wait for the weapon to cool down for about 10 secs it would be requiring a lot of spare parts they didn't exaclty have abundance of right now. Steam could be seen raising from the heat dispersal function of the weapon.

Peering through the scope upon the top of her heavily modified bolter, Aviza swiftly took aim at the Ork that was rapidly approaching them. He held some sort of satchel above his head and yelled incoherently, somehow missing all the hostile and friendly fire that flew past him. The scope adjusted itself upon the target automatically and Aviza pulled the hairpin trigger. The first round found its mark and hit the Ork in the head, dropping him flat upon the ground and leaving little more than a bloody torn stump of a neck where tendons and muscle showed clearly, quickly creating a pool of blood below where the xeno had fallen. The satchel that the Ork had held had now fallen to the ground a couple of feet in front of him before detonating on its own, obliterating the Ork and creating a good sized hole in the ground for a shaped charge of the sort.

After attaching her heavily modified bolter to the magnetic slot upon the back of her armor, Aviza reached for the heavy flamer and moved to one of the unoccupied slots in the bunker, sticking its nozzle out side of the slit in the window then quickly powering it on. There was not much fuel left in its tanks so she would have to choose her bursts carefully. A jet of orange and red fire shot from its nozzle in a swirl of intense heat, igniting a number of the Orks in an inferno that illuminated the surrounding area. Those that were unlucky enough to be hit by the flame now ran around in a panicked state as their screams echoed and could be easily heard, even through the growing storm. If anyone would have seen Aviza without her helmet at this point, they would have noticed a smirk spread across her face as she continued to burn away the Xenos in a cleansing flame.

The built in HUD inside of her helmet quickly highlighted a new approaching threat just before a cloud of green smoke went up in front of the bunker, momentarily drowning out Aviza's vision. "Filters on!" the power-armor that Aviza wore automatically picked up the biochemical weapon that was being used and sealed the sister of battles suit, it was now using a back up O2 system and filter to allow her to breath freely without any worry. Suddenly, a message popped up on Aviza's HUD informing her that the gas was flammable and could combust if care was not taken. Aviza weighed her options and looked around at the rest of her squad, the gas had not fully filled the bunker so the Orks weapon could be used against them, very carefully.

After adjusting the heavy flamer, she brought down the weapons intensity before poking the nozzle out of the bunkers slit in front of her and informed her squad to move back slightly and remove their weapon from the slots in the windows that they were firing from. Gently, she pulled the trigger of her weapon and eased into the strength of the heavy flamer, the gas suddenly ignited with a sweeping blaze of azure blue fire. Aviza had been quick enough to pull a lever so that the shutters on the outside of the bunker would swiftly close, keeping most of the inferno from entering the bunker and causing any trouble. A loud roar could be heard outside as the gas ignited before everything returned to the way it was, that was except for the wartrakk that still stood its ground.

The heavy flamer had now spent all of its fuel and was useless, Aviza tossed it behind her and grabbed the one rocket launcher that Vala had apparently not wanted to use. pushing the lever up to the position that would open the windows, Aviza prepared to fire as the Wartrackk came into view. Once the window was open enough, she pulled the trigger of the rocket launcher and watched as the rocket sailed towards its target and made direct contact with it in an awe-inspiring explosion that sent a shock wave across the ground, kicking up a good amount of mud and debris at the same time. The Wartrackk had taken a good amount of damage but had responded by firing its own rocket launchers at the bunker.

"Incoming!" yelled Aviza, quickly moving back from the open windows and taking cover behind some of the more heavily armored areas inside of the bunker. The concussive blast that traveled through the bunker was enough to knock out those who were not properly protected or prepared for such a thing. Thankfully, power-armor could easily protect its wearer from such a thing and Aviza had only been violently knocked forward a couple of feet and left a bit dazed for a few seconds.

Now, a good chunk of the bunker was missing, flaming debris were scattered around them and the Wartrackk was prepping to fire one more.

The only concern that was created when the Ork's deployed their crude gas weapon was the reduced visability, already wearing his rebreather and secure against any untoward effects the gas may cause on unprotected individuals. The only ones that were of any concern in that regard was the Arbites, and if they weren't issued rebreather's Ansgar would be disappointed in them as a whole, and the mercenary. Her situation was, again, something out of his control and if she decided having breathing protection wasn't necessary, so be it. Between the flames from the Celestian, unsurprising as the choice of weapon was, and the combined weapon's fire from the rest of the squad, it was a good showing against the Ork threat. Frankly, Orks were easier to handle than Tyranids by a great margin thus far, even if their aptitude for mechanics was better than a Tyranid's. Which was not saying much, to be frank, but it was a true statement.

The gas combusting was expected, most compounds that were not properly prepared or otherwise maintained tended to be explosive, flammable, or some combination of the two on top of their usual toxic or otherwise lethal effects. Keeping his head down from the ensuing inferno, he waited for the firing slits to be reopened, seeing the missile that the Celestian fired failing to stop the retaliatory fire from the Orkish vehicle. Insctincts kicking in before he readily processed what was said, he found himself face down on the ground, one arm covering his neck, the other bracing himself against the impending blast. Braced as he was, and already on the ground, the blast did little to actually move him, though he was concussed and shaken up something fierce. Business as usual, then, living in a trench being shelled tended to prepare one, at least mentally if nothing else, for the rigors of taking fire from heavy ordinance.

Rising to his feet, a glance gave bad news. The missile launcher the Krieger was assigned was damaged, debris having warped the tube beyond safe operation. Scowling, he discarded it without a further concern and spotted the Ork's lining up another shot, and was going to have none of it. Quickly reaching into his satchel, he produced a krak grenade, pulling the pin and rising up, deaf towards anyone still though his hearing was recovering, taking several steps forward and lobbing the krak grenade with a practiced throw, sending the explosive hurtling through the air. The grenade landed square in front of the wartrakk's rokkit launcha and the unfortunate Ork manning it. A muffled crump was heard and the bed of the wartrakk supporting the heavy weapon was caved in, sending the ork and weapon plunging down through the hole and ruining any ability for the thing to move, as well as giving the aformentioned Ork an extremely bad day in the process. Kneeling beside the rubble, Ansgar produced his Type XIV (Heavy) once more, sweeping for further threats as everything normalized.

"GET OUTTA DA WAY! I HATE IT WHEN THERE'S TRAFFIK JAMS ON DA ZOGGIN' BATTLEFIELD!"

Roared the Ork driver of another Wartrakk as he pushed past the burning wreckage of one of the other Ork vehicles that went, exhaust and mud spilling everywhere behind him and painting the wall of the building!
Situated on the back of the wartrakk was another Ork, this one manning a mounted dual-seated, quad-headed Ork rokkit launcher, with eight mismatched and janky looking Ork rockets now pointed at the bunker!

As soon as the half-ruined bunker became visible across the rain soaked battlefield, the gunner would already let out an enthusiastic roar as he pushed the ignition button, causing 7 of the Ork rokkits to fly straight towards the bunker, with the 8th flying off to the side and blowing up a random machine statue!

Yet as the Rokkits rapidly closed in on the bunker, the occupants could feel an unearthly sensation gush through the fortification that almost clawed at their insides; before in a flash, a bright, purple barrier appeared before the bunker!

The rokkits collided into the front of the glowing psychic barrier head on, exploding in a series of roars that shook the bunker but left the building and the occupants themselves unscratched, if a little more deaf, and the shimmering barrier passed away as quickly as it had appeared.

From within the back of the bunker, Adrianne had stepped forward; her hand outstretched and motes of pink and violet drifting in the air around her.
The visors of her skull mask passed the group, the purple fading in them, before she spoke:

"I sense a great psychic commotion all around us. We should finish up this fight soon before more Greenskin decide to join in on the fun."

"GET ME CLOSAH, GET ME CLOSAH!"

From outside the bunker, the loud roaring of a large Ork could be heard, as driving into the courtyard outside the bunker now littered with burning vehicles was the last Ork war buggy, its front tilted upwards for some reason. The reason would soon show itself however as the war buggy turned around, revealing a large, Ork Nob sitting in the back of the war buggy, clad in super heavy armor and whose sheer mass threatened to break the suspension of the rickety Ork vehicle at any moment!

"You stooopid grotz can't even take out a simple 'humie bunkah! Dat's just sad, dat is!" The Ork grumbled as he jumped off the back of the war buggy to face the bunker, raising his overly-weaponized arms; his right arms consisting of an armored gauntlet with three oversized dakkaguns welded onto it with multiple belt feeds running to his backpack, and twin-mounted flames decorating his left armor.

"Good thing Toof Dakka-Armz is 'ere tha show you gitz how its done!"

The Nob, Toof Dakka-Armz, then raised his right arm towards the bunker; a brief grin passing on what was visible of his ugly face behind his armored plates.



Toof let our a feral roar that was quickly drowned out by the sheer voluminous fire from his tri-mounted dakkaguns, that unleashed a truly unholy amount of sheer firepower on the bunker! Although the vast majority of the shots missed and flew wild, hundreds of rounds inevitably managed to find the bunker, shooting dirt and concrete all around and forcing anyone in its path to dive for cover!
The Ork Nob laughed, shooting his firethrower wildly around in the air for fun as he began to slowly advance through the mud, his metal boots sinking deep into the rain soaked ground as the air around the superheated barrels of his guns became filled with steam whenever the rain landed on the glowing barrels.

For what felt like an age he had simply weathered the torrent of fire, squatting down in the bunker (or what had once been a whole bunker), and sheltering himself as best he could from the incoming fire of the savage enemy. Now, his armour scorched, scratched, chipped and dented by various calibres and forms of munitions, Nergüi recognised swiftly that there was only really one enemy left worth caring about, and that enemy was the huge one making his way toward them.



His blood began to boil within him even as the firepower of the Ork, classification 'Nob', blew further sections out of the rockcrete construct all around him. This had to stop, and soon, for the White Scar – a member of the venerable Deathwatch for many years – knew one overwhelming fact about their current foe; where there was one, there would always be more before long.

Shutting his eyes for the briefest moment, he conjured in his mind the wide expanse of his homeland – the vast and almost infinite plains of Chogoris – picturing the empty space, feeling the calm breeze of the wind upon him even within his armour, and focusing on his breath. One...two...three.

“Cover me,” he told the others, already shifting toward the exit from whence they had entered, speaking loud enough for them to hear him over both gunfire and storm.

Pausing for the briefest of moments, his bolt pistol already in his hand, he looked to the – probably extremely annoyed – Celestian and gave a curt nod of his head, “you may chastise me if I return; if I should die, tell my Chapter and the Deathwatch that I died fighting the enemies of Mankind.”

Like a bullet from a bolter he sped from the bunker, the White Scar just slightly less speedy on foot than he would have been on his favoured mount, the bolt pistol rising and firing as he launched himself into the admittedly scant cover of a nearby hab-unit. Surely there was nothing thick enough here to halt even Orkoid ammunition, but that was not what he had in mind.

Silently cursing himself for leaving the missile launcher loaded and ready back in the bunker, he unclipped the frag and krak grenades from his belt and tossed them in the direction of the war buggy. A satisfying thrump could be heard, the angered yells of Greenskins not far behind, and Nergüi counted off in his head how long it would take the Nob to turn and fire when considering the state of the sodden terrain it now slogged through. He'd be a fine distraction, if nothing else.

With a sharp intake of breath, his twin hearts banging against his chest as he moved, the Apothecary raced from the ruin and straight at the war buggy; it had not been completely disabled, but his aim had been true enough, the cockpit of the vehicle in ruins and two scorched bodies now being thrown out by several more lively Greenskins.

"For the Emperor and the Khan!" Came the battle-cry of the White Scars, bullets whizzing past him and glancing from his ceramite armour with sparks, Toof Dakka-Armz unleashing another fusillade at the far more spry Astartes. It nevertheless did little to slow the Marine, few of the shots making it anywhere near him, his Reductor becoming active about his right-hand wrist as he drew his tulwar in one fluid motion.

Faster than any mortal could manage, fuelled by the very essence of his Progenitor embedded within himself, the curved blade whipped through the air so swiftly that it left a faint blue trail behind it; choppas attempted to stop its passing, green flesh carved and gored by it, overdeveloped bodies dropping into the saturated mud of the planet moments after barring his path.

The last act of the Apothecary was to throw himself behind the vehicle, waiting for the inevitable heat of a flamethrower or the ordnance of a tri-mounted dakkagun to pierce vehicle and armour. That, or for his comrades-in-arms to fell the monster while his attention was elsewhere.

There wasn't much to tell with Herold during the various turns this battle had taken. He had wrought a sizeable toll on the enemy, at least compared to what he could do with the somewhat limited ammo he had. Once he realized he only had a dozen slugs left, he decided to switch to his large barrelled autopistol. Unfortunately, it would still take multiple shots from the weapon to down a full sized Orkoid unless he got lucky with a shot to the eye or temple, but it was all he cared to afford at the moment.

Once the Grots had their green gas tossed at them, he placed his rebreather on within moments, very glad he had it issued to him before he'd been enlisted in this outfit. Of course, the rebreather didn't prepare him for any of the Emperor cursed twists that came at them moments later, with the igniting of the gas and the multiple rockets traded between the now crumbling bunker and the Xenos brutes that still somehow bore down on them from outside.

Not to be intimidated out of giving aid to an Adeptus Astartes, Herold gave a gruff nod in return to Nergüi's proclamation he was bringing the fight to the enemy. "I'm with you." The Arbites said, free hand gripping his shield in anticipation. It was mere seconds later that the Death Watch Astartes vaulted over the rubble. Herold followed him, albeit at a slower and less overt pace. Instead he inexorably advanced, shield hefted in front of his body as his autopistol picked apart any Gretchin or Ork that stood in his way.

It wasn't long that he heard the tell-tale 'click' of his autopistol running out of ammo, and he holstered it as a nasty Ork charged him. Luckily, Herold was quick enough to whip out his Power Maul, the power revved up to maximum. Even bumping a normal human could rip off limbs when this weapon was charged at full power, and though Orks were far tougher than a man, it was still a flesh and blood creature, and when Herold took it by the knee, its knee caved all the same. Herold finished it off by crushing its head with the Maul. Suddenly, more shoota bullets ricocheted off his shield, and he was glad he kept it hefted. There was too many of them still, by the Emperor!

"I swear every last one of ..." She was now cursing in some weird way as the astartes decided to go full suicide charge on the orcs. There wasn't much she could at hte first moment after the chaos caused by the orks just moments ago, she needed the precious few seconds to recover from the shocks her body withstood even with her armor. She didn't possess the near insanity inducing zeal of the sisters, the hardiness of the astartes or the like. She was an engineer who just survived through luck and sheer tenacity. As the apothecary pulled the attention towards himself, Vala shook her head amd readied her weapon. The rocket luncher wasn't a weapon she was used to operate. It was simple yes, but she had not the certainty to hit. In return though the time gotten by the earlier barrage was more than enough for her weapon to cool down and be ready for another full shot.

"WHAGGHHH this, you chuck of mold." Vala growled as she aimed at the Nob's upper torso right center at location just under his chin. Three superheated beams shot, followed by a fourth a few miliseconds later. The sudden flash turned into a massive searing constant beam that found it's mark true. He was armored? So what, this thing was build to take down foes like that. She had it with people underestimating her in the past. She may not be the strongest, but her devices delivered all the punch she needed.

"WWRAAGHHH! AARRHHH, SOD IT IT BURNZ! YOU GRETCHIN ARE USELESS; COVER MY ZOGGIN FLANKS!" Toof Dakka-Arms roared angrily as he flailed his overly-weaponized arms around, the bulky scrap armor on the right side of his upper torso and lower faceplate having been warped, bent and turned into molten, dripping metal for the most part that laid itself onto the scorched wound in the greenskin's chest, the pain adding all sorts of fury to the Ork's already ferocious temper as he glared back at the bunker and turning his attention away from the astartes.

"WHO SHOT DAT? OI SWEAR IMMA GONNA MAKE YOU EAT YOUR OWN BEAMY GUN, YOU GIT!"

"It's wounded. Take care of the remaining Ork vehicles while I finish this xeno off." Sounded Adrianne's voice from behind the bunker as the Psyker came walking forward, grabbing her staff with both of her hands and pulling the lower sheath off; letting the blade of her two handed power-sword become visible as it crackled to life, sparks dancing across the length of the blade in a haunting, purple light.

Behind her mask, Adrianne was grinning.

Though she was often relegated to the back or to be a mere support element, there was nothing the Psyker relished more than close quarter combat. Much like channeling her abilities, the feeling of a good melee was exhilarating and a stark contrast to her usual role, and when she mixed the two of them, it was outright joyous!

Stepping over the cover of the ruined bunker, Adrianne would place both her hands on the elongated handle of her power sword and hold the blade sideways, as if ready to strike. The Nob, Toof Dakka-Arms, would see the feminine figure of the Psyker appear in the open some 40ft ahead, before letting out a hearty laugh, and aiming his triple guns at her.

"YA SHUDDN'T 'AV DONE THAT YA STOOPID GIT, CUZ NOW YOOO GET THE DAKK,- AUUGRH!"

Toof barely got to finish before the Psyker in the distance would disappear into thin air in a brief, purple flash; before he could feel a burning, stinging sensation in his side as Adrianne had just appeared next to him before he could even blink! Her large, two-handed power sword having just sliced deep into his side, piercing and burning his metal armor and carving through inches of sinewy, green flesh! He let out a pained groan of confusion, just as Adrianne turned her blade, this time bringing it back in a cutting motion towards the side of the Orc's left leg!, where she cut through the cybernetic armor and severing cables and fleshy tendons alike! Hydraulic fluid, green fungus oil and dark green ork blood suddenly spluttered everywhere from his leg, the leg motor failing and causing the Ork to fall to his knees under the weight of his own armor and weapons.

"Zoggin' weird-humie git... !"

Adrianne thought of the irony of the whole situation.

Of all the Greenskin in the area, she considered this Nob to be the least threatening of them all. His strength, though impressive, was weighed down by the sheer ludicrous amount of armor that the beast carried, rendering him slow and cumbersome, even by Ork standards. And his weaponry, although it might have the power to level a small building and suppress an entire platoon if he was given some space, they mattered little against an opponent that did not care about the limitations of physical space. In this fight, the Nob's very own toys became his worst enemy.

At least a lightly encumbered Ork boy might get a hit in against her thanks to its greater speed. This Nob, however, was little more than a sitting duck.

Adrianne felt that she barely had to channel her power of divination at all to see the Ork's next move, as the Nob, infuriated, turned its head to roar at her in anger like a frenzied animal; but Adrianne would simply be there waiting for him with her power sword ready to strike; pushing the power sword cleanly into the opening in the Ork's armor left by Vala the moment the Ork's pig-like face came to face her, a motion she followed with an upward cut that went up through the Ork's muscled and scarred chest, continuing through his throat and up to finally split the Ork's face open in a single, searing cut!

As his flamer sputtered and triple shootas fired off a final, random salvo into the rain soaked ground in a death twitch, the Ork fell back into the mud with a splash, dead as stone and upper body opened and splayed out for the rainy sky above.

"Aviza, this is Nova back at the Imperial Guardsmen Headquarters, we have moved out a Basilisk Earthshaker Cannon as you requested and will be able to fire a tight hail of shells at your designated area shortly." The voice of the last remaining officer of the Imperial Guardsmen upon the planet came through Aviza's com clear and without any distortion whatsoever. In the back ground of the com, Aviza could hear Imperial Guardsmen yelling to load [132MM HE Cluster Shells] into the Basilisk's Earthshaker Cannon, followed by coordinates. "Do not fire untill I give you the command to do so. I am recalling my squad-members back to the safety of the bunker." Quickly flipping the to the com channel that connected to the rest of her squad, Aviza called all those who had left the bunker, back into its safety for the time being. "Fall back to the bunker and prepare for direct fire support!" she yelled into her mic over the sound of Toof-Dakka-Arms roaring angrily and heavy gunfire. Rounds flew all around the bunker, some even making their way into it and ricocheting off the metal and concrete walls, floors and ceiling.

Barely peeking her head around the large metal pillar that she was using for cover, Aviza had managed to see Adrianne finish off Toof-Dakka-Arms in an impressive show of power, that was also slightly concerning for one of her rank and position. "Impressive work Adrianne, but get back here before you end up in the middle of the shelling." Aviza would wait untill everyone was back inside of the bunker. She would close what was left of the bunkers metal shields, not that it would do much. "You are clear to open fire!" said Aviza into her com. Shortly after, the sound of cannons being fired in the distance could be heard, followed by the soft sound of projectiles whistling through the air. Aviza had moved to the large opening in the bunker and brought her two arms and the middle finger upon her right hand up into the triple threat at the Orks, giving them a few seconds to see the insult.

For a few seconds, all that could be heard was the sound of normal Ork gunfire and the storm outside of the bunker. Then suddenly the first shell made contact with a blinding white flash of light, shaking the ground below them violently and causing an impressive explosion to tear through its area of effect. Debris that was made up out of random pieces of Orks, their vehicles, dirt and anything else in the impact area to flew in every direction, some of it ablaze and others disintegrating in mid air or becoming dangerous projectiles of their own. All this time, Aviza stood her ground with the same rude gesture, watching the chaos unfold in front of her at a somewhat safe distance, the shock-wave of each shell sending smoke and other small debris into the bunker, past her or bouncing off of her shield. At least twelve shells were fired and once the smoke and chaos ended, Aviza put one foot up on the lip of the mostly destroyed bunker and looked out at what was left before their wake. "Good shooting Nova and crew, nothing but smoking craters and some flaming debris."

Stepping outside of the bunker, Aviza motioned for the rest of her squad to follow her, "Everyone still in one piece and able to stand? Good, let's move to the next objective, but this time I think we should use those Servo-Skulls of yours, Adrianne." Aviza would turn to Vala and then point at Adrianne, "Think you can alter those Servo-Skulls to suit our mission?"

It looked like the advance of the Arbites and the Astartes was short lived, and it soon turned into a running retreat when the Soritas claimed that an Emperor-bleeding Earth-Shaker cannon was aiming at their position. He didn't outwardly panic, or even inwardly panic. But Herold knew when to back the fuck up and find cover, so he did.

He slipped the shield onto his back and turned to run, Orkish bullets scraping the rockrete and one or two even ricocheted off his shield. Orks weren't the best of shooters however, as most know. Once Adrianne dealt with the big one, a lot of the fight went out of the others as well. It probably kept him from getting a bullet in the legs.

Herold weathered the intense barrage, almost in awe at the power the Imperium and the Emperor could wrought upon its enemies. He'd seen many engines of war, but he supposed he didn't expect the sheer white of the first explosion, and the silence that followed once the barrage was over with.

He said nothing, bolstered by the display of the shredded ground before them. "Good to go." He assured them, his shock maul vibrating to life once more.