"Keep the engine running, Corporal. I'll be there shortly." I responded, hoping my voice sounded steady. As men ran back and forth, carrying equipment and ordinance, I had an abrupt feeling of imposter syndrome. How had I fooled all these men into thinking I was worth following? Surely command knew better than me, I told myself. Morek seemed to have confidence, at least, following my every step and eyeing every man suspiciously as he carried around the bloody Ogryn gun. Picking our way past the wreckage of a looted Tauros RAV and a rockcrete pillbox where two men loaded a heavy stubber, we saw the Chimeras at the center of the MOB, men scattering away as they roared to life. 

"What I would not give for some hellfires," I said, knowing even if we routed the Orks, in a generation another wave would come screaming out of the badlands unless we burned the whole place. 

My lamentations were interrupted by the first Rok hitting the planet's surface a bit over twenty kilometers away. There was a sudden flash of light to my left, and I covered my eyes instinctively. Moments later, a gale of wind and dust hit Morek and I with the force of a deep sea wave. I was knocked off my feet, though Morek, heavy as he was, grabbed my flailing (and yelling) form and kept himself steady. Squats are like square shaped boulders, I have come to find.

Despite my fear and rather embarrassing position, crying out and being held by the jacket, flailing like a ragdoll, I was actually well versed in the manner of the Orks and their landing capabilities. I hailed from the planet Avarus in the southern edge of the Segmentum Obscurus. Unlike the rest of the fleet zone, we did not get an overabundance of Chaos warbands. Only once in my life did a chaos fleet raid our world, and I was four at the time, so my expertise does not lie in that particular field, though I was aware of the stories. No, our biggest calamity was when I had just turned nineteen, and my homeworld was attacked by a one-eyed Ork Warboss creatively named 'Biggun Green.' I remembered being invited to the tower where my father and the commanders of the PDF showed me the auspex, and I heard the exact sound of an Ork Rok entering our atmosphere. I remember seeing our sister city, Saphir, burn across the expanse of few miles of pine forest. I recalled how flimsy of a barrier that was to our position. I had even seen limited combat, as our world had kept its pre-industrial traditions even after three millennia of being uplifted by the Imperium. 

Noble sons were expected to fight. 

However, I did not have my father here to give me orders, or my brothers to compete with (or use as distractions). As much as I had always loathed my father, there was still some manner of protection knowing he was there. Hopefully, I had half the confidence he did. The men under my command certainly needed a leader with that trait. 

The concussive blast only lasted a few seconds, and despite my very manly squealing, it honestly was not that bad, after the fact. As insane as Orks are, they aren't entirely without reason. Ork roks are exceptionally tough, but even with their hulls dozens upon dozens of meters thick, the structure (nor its crew) would not normally survive hitting the planet. Roks control their descent by random discharges of modified force fields, reversing polarity charges at the molecular level. This force field, in combination with modified traktor beams, not only slows the descent, but produces a pressure bow-wave extending for over dozens of kilometers and a temperature of over 159 degrees above the surface mean during the descent operation, boiling the ground beneath the Rok up to ten metres deep and coating it in a silicon-based layer. This silicon-based layer provides additional stability for the rok, at least until its support structures, consisting of thousands of automatically adjusting spike-tipped anchors, are deployed, allowing the Rok to disperse its cargo by a series of hydraulic ramps. Even then, not all orks survive, but even just one rok can hold tens of thousands of orks, and from the readings we knew of at least two objects in the 'asteroid' cluster that fit the size of one. 

Once I regained my feet, Morek and I hustled to the Chimera, it's back ramp still open like a gaping maw. I shouldered my way in, the men too scared to bother apologizing to the ranking officer. Their eyes were wide beneath their helmets, jaws clenched. I gave each man that looked my way an encouraging smile and nod, patting a few on the shoulder. I heard a few yelps behind me as Morek bulled his way past them beneath their eyeline like some lurking hormagaunt. 

Sel was snug in her seat, having just finished prepping her station and awaiting my orders. I gave her a grin, looking around. "I'm impressed, Corporal." 

"Once you know the lingo it all falls into place, sir." She quipped. "So, what's the plan?" 

"It'll take the Orks a bit to get situated. We need to hit them hard as they're leaving the Rok. I'll get on the multi-laser," I said, and almost fainted when I realized I had just volunteered for the most vulnerable position on the Chimera. I supposed a small, irritating part of me really did have something to prove. "As they're getting off the Rok, we hit them, and when they give chase, we call in the artillery to clean them up." 

"Sounds like a plan." Sel said, and grinned. "Better hold on." 

Somehow, I could tell by those three words this was to be a bumpy ride, so I hurriedly took my position at the platform, half of my body sticking out above the Chimera like a target that read 'please murder this stupid git' as I released the safety mechanism on the multi-laser and placed a finger to my ear, reaching the vox for the chimera comms. "We're moving out. Follow our lead!"