Planet Arawath

The moment after Derek’s feet left the ship and before gravity took seemed to stretch to infinity. He saw the bullets stream past the other dropships. The rockets twisting past before exploding like overstuffed fireworks, illuminating the ashen clouds that covered the area.
His breath caught as infinity ended and gravity took hold. “Steady out boy!” Grim yelled as they started to face straight down and spin.
An acrid taste invaded Derek’s mouth as his breath returned, and he began to fire the chutes in an attempt to even them out. He managed to align them properly, but their descent was still too fast for comfort.
“What is that?” Derek heard Grim yell over the noise of the wind rushing past them and the explosions missing them.
“What is-” Hitting the chutes again, Derek tried to aim their descent again when he spotted what Grim was talking about. “A tank doing up here?”
Explosions rocked the airborne tank, and part of it split off. The remaining parts veered slightly towards Grim and Derek. The Orks on the soaring vehicle began firing as several of them strapped to rockets blasted up to meet them.
“Incoming!” Derek yelled, spinning the pair and turning his back to certain death. He concentrated on evasive maneuvers as Grim brought a lascarbine to bear. He was only able to use one hand though, and his shots were erratic.
“Did you hit any?” The roar of the approaching tank drowned out Derek’s question. Several Orks rocketed past before course correcting back towards them. Grim squeezed off several shots at the deadly tank, punching holes in meat and metal.

Grim yelled in surprise as an Ork crashed into him and latched on. The rocket drilled into the Ork was still firing, and sent the trio spinning out of control. Derek’s eyes widened as the Orks roar mixed with his scream. The Greenskin tried to batter Grim, but just flailed around. Derek gave up steering in favor of trying to remove the Ork’s hold on Grim. Grim responded to the Ork’s attempts by head butting the Greenskin, which was enough of a distraction for Derek to finish removing the Ork.
Careening away, the Ork collided with the approaching tank and exploded. A small crater marked the creature’s impact, but the vehicle kept coming.

Derek managed to stop the spin, still trying to avoid the shots coming from the tank and the other Ork’s lurking around.
“Are you alright?” Derek asked.
“Get us down safely!” Grim responded, a grimace indicating he might not be, in fact, alright. “Start by avoiding the tank!”
“Thunder has struck.”
Derek hit the grav chutes hard, aiming them past the mass of metal. They cleared it, but the slipstream spun them around again before Derek could right them.
“Ground-fall achieved.”
Still high up, Grim was able to see the ground teeming with Orks. A dropship was falling in the distance, smoking trailing from the remains.
“Where do we land?” Grim look at Derek, scowling slightly.
“Doesn’t matter where we land, just land us.” The pain in Grim’s side increased as the grav chutes fought gravity. The Ork had managed to bruise him on his left side. “Now concentrate. We only have one chance.”

Airborne
Planet Arawath

The process of falling amidst enemy fire was one thing. Falling through self-propelled enemy forces was entirely another.

Around the squad, other elements of the 501st were being engaged by the Ork Stormboyz, being slashed, chopped, or simply impacted and taken out of the fight in a permanent fashion. The lucky ones were merely torn apart by large fusillades of Ork slugs, or blown into pieces by some manner of Orkish artillery.


Father Yates would see little trouble on his descent; using the sword as a defensive measure, the Ork that passed close to him would have one of its few navigation wings sheared off, sending it careening in an altogether different direction. The Ork likely did not notice, but it got it out of Yates' hair.

Cassandra would be significantly less lucky.
The occupants, or rather riders of the tank had not missed her passing, and a barrage of large bullets trailed her 'controlled' descent towards the ground. With deep-voiced shouts and calls, three of them had jumped off of the tank and followed her down, firing wildly and hefting their large chopping implements with deadly intent.
None of them had the large rockets attached to their backs, like some of their brethren; apparently they were so intent on destroying the Commissar that they were willing to accept the deaths that awaited them inevitably. Whether she was ready for them, and if she could slow herself enough to make a less-than-messy impact to the ground or nearby structures, remained to be seen.

Behind the Orks and Cassandra, Sergeant Icarus flew down like a bullet; passing the Tank and tossing his Krak grenade into it, the detonation wreaked havoc with its trajectory and the livelihood of its passengers. Wheeling through the sky in a roll, the few Orks left on it, plus the turrets, continued to fire in every direction. Chunks flew off like shrapnel and a few unlucky Orks or Guardsmen saw their end by a rather gruesome impact.


Following his dispatch of one of the Orks, Caccia would find himself facing down another pair of Stormboyz surging towards him from below. Both opened fire with their handguns and raised their weapons in preparation to destroy him.


Using the greater mobility provided by having a stronger Grav-chute, Trooper Jorn was able to remain in relative proximity of Belva. He took pot-shots here or there, but for the most part these were ineffectual.
He did ensure to shoot the now pack-less Ork on its way down, however.
Despite their relative positioning to the Tank and the swarm of Orks around it, both were able to proceed down with little trouble.


Grim and Derek had perhaps the most interesting time on their way down, aside from Cassandra.
Being a larger, more curious target for many of the Orks, they saw a lot of attention; multiple shots flying around them or at them, and more than a few Stormboyz decided they wanted to try and break the beast with two backs, as it were.
Despite these attempts the two were doing remarkably well, in part due to the erratic piloting of Derek, matched only by the similarly erratic lack of piloting the Orks portrayed.


"Thunder has struck, ground-fall achieved," spoke the somewhat familiar voice of Sergeant Icarus.

"Pilgrim," shouted the also familiar voice of Sergeant Solar. "You've hit land early; most of us are still engaged in the air," he warned.
"I need people on the rooftops or in openings on the structures flanking Landing Site Alpha," Solar continued; this would presumably be the area they were all landing around. "Give our early landers some fire support!"



Ground-side
Planet Arawath

Sergeant Icarus was not the only one to land early; by virtue or necessity, some other members of the 501st had reached the ground quickly as well, and found themselves badly outnumbered.

Situated in an area designated as 'near to Alpha' officially speaking, Icarus and several other Guardsmen had taken up positions behind a downed Valkyrie and some other convenient positions of cover, such as detritus from the damaged structures around them.

The complex itself was massive, with most of the structures being tens of stories high. The road they had landed on was very wide, and multiple pieces of industrial equipment- torn apart by the Orks for parts, most likely- littered the area.

More pressing than the environment were the Orks however. The shout of "WAAAAAAGH!" filled the dark, hot air around them, as a hail of large shells pounded the cover around the defenders.

Icarus would be able to hear the rumbling approach of many heavy feet, despite the grenade and suppressing fire; while some of the Orks took hits, and a few may have even gone down, there was a green tide approaching.

Icarus Toroun

The suppressed Sergeant listened to his radio as Solar gave him new orders. Looking around his position he could hear the orks getting closer about to flank his position and over run his cover. The few soldiers scattered around him were not in a much better place than him. Icarus looked at a building in between him and Alpha site. "501st, garrison that building! Regroup inside and put up a defensive fire line inside! Move, now!"

Icarus popped a smoke grenade at the orks front line and ran for the building. He did not even want to look back to see if the other soldiers were following him or if the orks were still coming through the smoke. Using the butt of his lasgun to smash in the front door, Icarus started barricading the interior with tables and benches or any other large objects he could find. Once the rest of the surviving 501st entered the building Icarus opened up the staircase and checked his gear. "I will need at least two of you for a fire support squad on the roof. Anti-armor weapons would be great. The rest of you hold the orks down here."

He did not wait for a response and headed up the stairs to the roof and moved around to view the Alpha site. He took up a firing position and started laying down suppressing fire on any orks he could see threatening the landing zone. Anyone else who came with him he directed to either watch for armor or aircraft if they had weapons useful against them, otherwise they would line up against the edge of the building alongside Icarus.

As Caccia kept decending to the ground, another pair of stormboyz flew to him with their weapons raised while firing their pistols. The bullets harmlessly wizz past him with accuracy so bad they wouldn't even hit the side of a baneblade in close range, but what worried him was that they were both coming to him at the same time, he would have time to blast one of them in the face but not enough time to pump his shotgun to get the second shot in.

In realization of his situation he unseathed his knife from his waist and held it in his left hand before aiming the shotgun at the stormboy closest to him. As the ork got in effective range he pulled the trigger causing the first orks head to become nothing but a bloody pulp, afterwards he readied his knife for the second ork. Sure orks have the advantage in pure strength when it came to close quarters fighting, but he had another idea in mind.

Just as the ork got in arms length of him, the ork brought down his weapon in a effort to slash him. He dodged the attack by veering slightly to the right while rotating his body to avoid the attack, afterwards before the ork could strike again he stabbed the rocket on the orks back causing the ork to fly up into the air, and while the ork was yelling he began to spin wildly before exploding in a small inferno. With another two orks down he finally made it to the ground before ditching his grav chute and ran to the nearest peice of burning Valkyrie debree with a squad of guardsman already taking position near the crash site. "This is Caccia! I have made landfall successfully and regrouped with one of the squads. I will make my way to one of the ork anti-air batteries to give some breathing room for the ships still in the air!" He spoke in his radio just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of dakka.

Screaming through the air was a Valkyrie assault carrier, painted black and midnight blue, lacking any distinguishing symbols that one would normally expect on a vehicle belonging to an Imperial Guard regiment. Unmarked and descending rapidly, the Valkyrie careened through the air, deftly avoiding incoming anti-air fire as best as could be done under the circumstances. Inside the hull of the flyer sat four men, undergoing final weapons' checks for their primary mission of eliminating the Ork warboss. All covered in carapce armor a similar color to that of the Valkyrie, it would be apparent to any Guardsmen who these men were. The Militarum Tempestus.

Raised in the confines of the Schola Progenium, these four men had received the best training in the Imperium and equipped with some of the most refined gear available to the forces of humanity. Effective, arrogant, and deadly, this elite group of soldiers was at once admired and loathed by normal Guardsmen.

"Keep an eye out, men. Report any findings so that the information may be relayed back to the interested parties," said Uriah, the others nodding in acknowledgement as he mentioned their other objective briefly.

"Red flares spotted, Sergeant Volc. Possible location in need of support. Orders, sir?" asked the pilot of the Valkyrie, all while managing the flight. The sound of "rockets away" came from the cockpit followed by a small shudder as the Valkyrie adjusted for the lost weight. Down towards the ground streaked a barrage of rockets, striking a concentration of Ork troops and blasting a majority of them apart.

"Deploy on the building next to the flare as best possible, return to ship afterwards. The flared building may be occupied and roof landing there may be too dangerous. May the Emperor protect you, Operator Sturm," responded Uriah, the leader of the small group of Scions. Accompanying him was the entirety of the Militarum Tempestus complement with the 501st, three men: Deacis Thorn, Elbel Fischermann, and Partheo Karas. Picking up his helmet, Uriah clicked the armor into position, sensors coming online as it began to draw power.

"Sir, I'm not sure that's the best location to land. Imperial ordnance may still be active and a disembarkation in that-"

"Cut it, Operator Sturm. We will disembark there, afterwards you may return to your ship. Acknowledged?"

"Acknowledged, sir. Jackal, get that mul-" responded Sturm, his voice cutting off as the channel cut away, returning to commanding the aircraft and his copilot. A loud bang sounded as a shard of metal slammed against the side of the Valkyrie, throwing the aircraft off course slightly before the pilot righted the vehicle.

Swooping in, a final barrage of rockets flew out as the multi-laser spattered shots across the city-scape. Swooping in near the flares, the Scions leaped out, landing on the roof next to the one which held a flare. As soon as the last boot stepped off, the Valkyrie began to pull away, streaking off towards safety, all the while being battered by Ork guns.

As a group, the four Scions descended through the ruined building, coming out on floor level. A roar to the left alerted them, all spinning to see a group of twenty-odd Ork Boyz charging down the street.

"Frag out!" called Deacis, chucking the small metal object towards the group even as the Hot-shot lasguns of the other troopers drilled holes through multiple Orks, dropping them with concerted volleys. The grenade's blast dismembered multiple Orks, leaving the remaining few to be accurately cut down by precise shots.

"Elbel, Parth, through that alley way, clear the other side of the building, rendezvous at the intersection. Emperor protects," barked out Uriah, receiving a nod and and murmur of "Emperor protects" from the two Scions before they moved off down the corridor, weapons at the ready. Uriah and Deacis moved quickly towards the ground-level flare, scanning the area cautiously. Scrambling from behind caused them to whirl around, training weapons on three Guardsmen, fear and dirt staining their faces.

"You three, you are now temporarily under my command until we regroup with other Imperial Guard elements. You will assist in retrieving Commissar Rascal and escorting her to the rendezvous location or you shall be shot for insubordination. Move!" yelled Uriah, causing the three to jump, a slight tinge of disgust entering their expressions.

"Suh, we was supposed to meet up with the Commissar at this here building, us and any other squads that needed rendezvous and couldn't reach the main area," declared one of the Guardsmen.

Nodding, Uriah considered the situation for a moment then spoke, "When we find the Commissar, you shall be released to her care. First we secure her. Now go."

The five stumbled into the tower. After a few minutes of searching, one of the Guardsmen spotted the Commissar. "Commissar Rascal, I am Tempestus Scion Sergeant Uriah Volc," Uriah said. "Found these men outside, cleared out the immediate vicinity of Orks. Emperor protect you, Commissar.

Around the end of the street came Partheo and Elbel, firing off a last few shots, Partheo tossing a grenade, before trotting to the base of the building which their fellow troops occupied. Saluting with the Aquila, Partheo reported over the micro-bead, "Street cleared of Greenskins, the location of the other Guardsmen concentration in this area is approximately north of us, Sergeant Uriah. Recommend moving through the alleys and buildings to avoid significant encounters."

Uriah nodded before glancing over at Commissar Rascal. "I recommend you relocate to the main rendezvous, Commissar. Centralized command shall be important in the coming hours," he intoned before moving off with Deacis to regroup with Partheo and Elbel at the entrance of the building. As one, the squad of Scions loped off towards the main Ork compound, intent on accomplishing their mission while the Imperial Guard units distracted the main Ork body.

Icarus Toroun

Sergeant Toroun fired his lasgun one last time before reloading it, the final shot hitting a Shoota Boy in it's chest and causing it to fall. He ducked down as he reloaded and scanned the area for enemy targets once more. Icarus popped up from his cover and aimed another shot down his sights at a pinned down squad of orks across the landing zone. The rest of the 501st on the roof with him were doing the same thing as him, taking one or two shots than crouching behind cover again.

Down below in the first floor of the building Icarus could here a shot now and then when an ork got too close to the door of their building and the surviving 501st downstairs could get a shot off. So far Icarus was still waiting for more troops to show up. Looking up at the sky Icarus notices another soldiers about to land, Caccia was coming down and landed a building away from where Icarus was. "This is Caccia! I have made landfall successfully and regrouped with one of the squads. I will make my way to one of the ork anti-air batteries to give some breathing room for the ships still in the air!"

Icarus ran over to that side of the roof to look down at Caccia's position and took a look at what his opposition was. He turned on his radio again and messaged Caccia over the squad comm. "Caccia, regroup at the building east of you. Bring the rest of that squad with you. We need more fire support up here for the LZ. That's an order." Icarus did not want Caccia to go after one of the anti-air instellations without sufficient numbers. It would be better if they all regrouped and got everyone on the ground before going after the ork positions. Icarus ran back over to his other firing line and took a couple of pop-shots before getting back behind cover.

It was always an odd sensation, to see ones death moments before it happened. A stray round fired from an Ork covering behind a tank, yelling out his garish screams of Dakka, Dakka, the Ork had not been aiming at her, but a descending trooper far to her right, but the glorious coupling of Ork weaponry and accuracy had the foul hardware spewing rounds in a much, much larger area. The round slammed through Bel's nose, tearing through flesh and shattering skull before it exploded in her head sending bits of bone and brain matter scattering the field below.

Or, it would have, if she hadn't seen it happen moments before. Instinctively tilting her head to the left, the bullet that would have removed her precious grey matter and destroyed her burnt face zipped by harmlessly past her ear. Death avoided, Bel looked down to see the tank still alive and well with the Orks gathered around it, she couldn't help but wonder why they weren't firing at them but instead the others despite how close they were to it. It was odd. Not wanting to test fate again, on the chance she wouldn't get a forewarning of her demise, she accelerated the grav-chut down dropping out of the sky at an accelerated rate.

As she neared the ground, she hit the grav-chut thrusters, gave it a small boost with her mind, landing on the ground with far less.. impact then the others. Bel wasted no time flipping the latches and letting the chute hit the ground, it was bulky and hard for her small frame to run around with, not to mention it made freeing her staff a tiring process. Taking cover behind a crumbling wall that, she assumed, was once part of a corner store, she pierced over the rubble ignoring her handler making landfall as she locked her eyes on the tank and large group of orks that were giving the landing party such a hard time. She could remove it, but it would take it out of her to do so, and they just landed... But it didn't look like anyone deployed had thought to bring in some heavier weaponry, or at least, those that had some weren't nearby.

Bel bit the bottom of her lip in thought, she could easily sneak around it, but that would leave the other guardsmen exposed to be cut down by the tank, but.. taking it out could weaken her against any future adversaries. Decided she didn't like it either way, she tapped on her comm-bead, "Sergeant Solar, this is Clarette, I can destroy the Ork armor, or move around it and make my way to your location, orders?"

Since she didn't like her options, she would let the Sergeant decide what was best for the mission. Of course, she left out that it would tire her out, but when assaulting a tank, there was always that risk. Of course, she had no desire to run up to it and hit it with her staff, which, amusingly, would work well enough as the warp empowered weapon would sheer through the steel like butter, but she would get shot for her troubles. No, she would simply lift it... then drop it again on the Orks cowering next to it.

Derek opened his mouth to ask a question, but it died the same time as a grav chute on Grim’s side did. The slightly controlled descent turned back into a freefall.
“Grim, do something!” Derek yelled.
Pain flared from Grim’s side and he tried to ignore it. Stowing his Lascarbine, he noted their proximity to the ground and grabbed the offending mechanical part. His staff clattered against his side, reminding of its utter uselessness in this situation. Derek righted their spin, but the fear showing on his face.
“This isn’t how I want to die!”
Grim ignored him, and tore some metal off part of the chute. Sticking his hand into the thick of wires, he closed his eyes. His mouth moved, but no sound came. Their descent had slowed to a leisurely plummet.
“Enough chanting and fix the damn thing!” Anxiety tinged Derek’s voice.

Eyes snapping open, Grim stared straight at Derek. “Calm your mind, or I will land us.” The broken chute flared back to life, sparks popping from around Grim’s hand. His eyes narrowed, but said nothing as he removed his fingers.
Derek gulped, “How long will that last?”
“That,” Grim responded, “Will outlast us all. Now stop delaying us. We have Orks to kill.”
Derek sputtered for a moment, before curbing his response. Most of the squad had landed, or was landing. The longer they stayed in air, the greater the chances of something actually hitting them (again).
“Aim for Alpha.”
“Where’s Alpha?” A Stormboy screamed past, waving his chopper threateningly.
“Down.”
Another Stormboy blew past, firing his pistol and missing by a wide margin. “No shit it’s down, down where?” Red smoke caught Derek’s eye, a signal for support. Gritting his teeth, he aimed for what was surely a death trap.

Grim held on, trusting that the chute would work as intended. He wasn’t as sure about Derek’s piloting skill. They were starting their approach to the buildings now, and Derek was having a harder time avoiding enemy fire. Several explosions (Derek could only guess that the Stormboyz trailing them had finally gone kamikaze) sent shockwaves powerful enough to knock them towards the hole in the building he had been aiming away from.

The pair spun several times neatly into the hole the Commissar had kindly left behind. Derek hit the ground back first. The air was driven from his lungs by the combined weight of gravity and Grim. Unconsciousness drove the pain from his mind. Grim fared slightly better. Besides bumps and bruises, the wound in his side had opened up, bleeding a little. Untangling from Derek and removing the chute, he took notice of the room and its occupants.
The Commissar and three other Imperial Guardsmen were grouped near the other end of the room, near the exit. The Commissar looked worn out, and down an arm.

“Enginseer Grim and Operator Bottles reporting for battle.” Grim said, unstrapping his staff and leaning on it.

Planet Arawath
Near-to-Alpha, Est. 50m South of Alpha

In the tight corridors, alleys, and mixed structural integrity of the area, the soldiers immediately around Sergeant Icarus followed his orders and began piling into one of the structures to gain a tactical advantage. More and more of the 501st continued to touch down, in various areas; a few blocks to the North seemed to be where the major concentration was setting down, but this area had enough troops to set themselves up in a decent position of fortification.

Most of the 501st did not relinquish their grav-chutes, unless they had sustained damage; it was not only a fairly expensive tool, but one that could potentially see more use later on down the road.

"Sergeant Pilgrim," shouted one of the troopers. He seemed to be a veteran, his shoulder-badge indicating his code name as 'Striker'. More importantly he and another trooper, assisted by another pair, had heavy stubbers. "We'll take the roof. I'd request another handful of troops to ensure those damn Stormboyz don't get on top of us."

The two heavy weapons teams followed Icarus up the flights of stairs at a decent clip. From the vantage point on top of the building, the primary Alpha landing site for 2nd company was still concealed behind a wall of structures, but there were plenty of Orks to shoot; charging towards the building with the fire coming from it.

The ground floor had a volley of some twenty grenades thrown into it; the shuddering detonations that followed would leave the entire building shaking. If any of the Guardsmen made it out of the ground floors, they had not yet resumed firing.


Caccia would find himself at a fortuitous position near to the front of this engagement, hunkered down with some of the other troops some thirty meters away from the building that Icarus and the teams he had taken command of were situated in.

If Caccia chose to ignore the order, he would have options. The primary anti-air, at least if he had any idea how to navigate this world as yet, was somewhere to the West outside of the major hab structures. Another was off to the East, in the center of the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Company drop zones.


2nd Company Alpha LZ

As fortunate as any Priest before him, Deacon had managed to find himself in a position not more than a block away from the main push; as such, trotting off in that direction would see him and his new friends linking up with the rest of the Company.

The situation here was markedly much better than the scattered comms chatter would suggest of other landing zones. With such a high concentration of Imperial Guardsmen, they were able to keep their positions defended from the West, while still pushing Eastward against the onslaught of Orks.

Sergeant Solar was at the moment no-where to be seen, but a renewed shout of WAAAAAAAAGH! would draw attention to a new wave of Orks; some two hundred or so barreling down on the Imperial Guardsmen. These were not the skinny grots or wiry Stormboyz that had been sent at the 501st thus far; these were Boyz, proper, and were led by a pack of Nobz.

"Fire on full auto, men," a nearby Sergeant shouted; the last thing they wanted was engagement with the Orks at close range. The front line opened up a severe barrage of las-fire, but returning shots from the Orks- and their natural resilience to damage- saw them keep coming despite the dead.

A black Valkyrie assault craft- the only one with considerable armament in the conflict, and for some reason incredibly low to the ground- passed overhead, unleashing a barrage of Autocannon fire and dispatching the rest of its rockets. While the Ork numbers suffered, they pressed on; and the Valkyrie became the recipient of a volley of return fire, several Ork rockets and cannons shearing off one of its wings. The craft spiraled out of control and could be heard detonating somewhere to the north.


To make matters worse, one of the structures to the south of Alpha LZ began to crumble as an Ork Tank began to rumble its way onto the Infantry position; a most difficult situation for the majority, due to a severe lack of anti-armour weaponry.

Wherever he was, Sergeant Solar had heard Belva's inquiry. "Do it, Psyker! That thing will rip the company apart!"


Secondary Designated LZ, est. 100m South of Alpha

The Commissar would not remain alone for long. She would also not remain unknown to the Orks for long.

With her position under fire from the Orks who happened to be below the building, the situation might start to appear rather grim. The red flare smoke was her saving grace, forming a wall of colour that threw off the Orks' already impressively bad aim.

In moments the lot of that particular group of orks was reduced to green and red clouds, due to the concentrated fire of several hot-shots and a grenade.

The group of Guardsmen that had actually made their way into the position were taken in by the Stormtroopers; whether they liked it or not, temporary though that arrangement was. Once they found the Commissar, the men moved to assist her in her position, leaving the Storm Troopers to their own devices.

Said Storm Troopers would be on their way down the building when a frustrated Sergeant's voice would be heard by most of those present in the structure, via their comm beads.

"Commissar, you have deployed red smoke. That is fire support request; be advised that- damn it, stand by and take cover!"

Even over the din of battle, the distant 'thump' of large guns firing could be heard. An entire Regiment of artillery had control of the area, and was eagerly awaiting an opportunity to hammer on the hated Orks. A man-made storm was coming; and assuming it was at maximum range, they would have less than twenty seconds to respond.

To bring even more misfortune, another wave of Orks had begun a charge and entered the building; the Storm Troopers, and what few Guardsmen were in the area to try climbing the structure, would now be trapped between the Orks and a climb to what may be their deaths.

Grim and Bottles would find themselves dropped into this situation. For better or worse.


600 Meters North of 1st Company LZ

Trooper Phoorstein would not immediately know where he was. Even by the map that he had been able to take a look at before the jump, as far as he could tell he wasn't anywhere near the drop zone.

To say he had flown off course was an understatement.

"Punkt," Sergeant Solar shouted over comms. "How the feth did you end up in the middle of no-where?" He was understandably annoyed; but one soldier who ended up elsewhere could not be helped.

"Get to a position where you can get eyes on your situation from elevation. Once you have ascertained what your status is, link up with the rest of 2nd Company."

A task easier said than done; Phoorstein had ended up somewhere West of the entire push, almost out in the Ash wastes. Despite the rebreather and landing goggles, the sheer amount of ash whirling around was blinding.

And to make matters worse, the distant sounds of battle were not quite as distant as one might have hoped- from the north, several Ork ground vehicles were moving towards his position.

The large tower structure to the south would perhaps be his only hope of survival.

The Cleric and his two friends were glad to run into so many of their comrades instead of the orks first. Simon tried to survey the situation quickly, but all he could tell about the situation was that less of the shooting was aimed at him once he shoved his two saved troopers through a doorway. "Sergeant Solar? This is Father Yates. I've linked up with the main combat force. I've got two stragglers without a squad assisting me. Tell me where you want me." But before he could hope for an answer, the orks came en masse. He shouted over the gunfire, unlikely to be heard by any other than Sanders and the other trooper. "See as the enemy comes! And see how the Emperor cuts them down!" He threw an arm over his head dramatically while bringing his flamer around. He was ready to jump into the street and offer gouts of fire for the Ork's assault, but the Valkyrie screamed over his head and his words rang true in the glorious cacophony of heavy fire. "See that, men? The enemy is flesh, bone, and weakness! The Orks cannot stand to our faith! For the Emperor, for the Imperium, and for ourselves!" While there was still some distance between him and the Orks he fired his laspistol into the coming wave. It was difficult to miss. The crumbled building at the edge of the main concentration threatened to be a shortcut into the heart of the formation; he grabbed Sanders (who was shell-shocked into inaction) and muscled him towards the far wall. "If a single Ork gets past us, their flank will cripple us." He covered the holes in the wall in fire. "Pray that they do not realize this and continue to charge in one direction."
Then the tank came. "Uh, Father?" Sanders pointed at the other trooper. "He's anti-armor." Simon looked over his shoulder.
"Is that true?"
"Yes, Father. But I lost my launcher in the drop."
"Do you have any krak grenades?"
"...yes, Father."
"Then use them."
The trooper nodded. He turned away and stepped out of the building-right into auto fire that nearly ripped his torso from his hip. "Dammit. Sanders, grab his bandoleer."
"Yes, Father." The other soldier didn't favor his chances but did as he was told. He reached out tentatively and grabbed his dead friend by the boot, dragging him into the room. He unstrapped the man's krak grenades. Taking one in either hand, he looked at the Father again. "By the Emperor's will, that armored sin will be destroyed."
"Yes, Father. It shall." He sprinted free of the building and-dodging behind rubble and other hard cover as he could-tried to maneuver himself close enough for a clean throw.

The Commissar (who had re-positioned to another window to continue firing on the orks) turned when her metal bedframe noise alarm was disturbed. She whirled, struggling to hold her carbine in one hand, and didn't lower it until the stormtroopers were clearly in the room. "Well what the bloody fuck are you doing here?" she questioned impatiently. "Relocate? This building has been designated an emergency rendezvous. If I leave there's nothing to rendezvous with." She stood, slowly, moving away from the window. She looked past the men to the conventional troopers. "You," she moved her left arm to point, then winced in pain and remembered why that was a terrible idea. "Cover this window. Tell your friends to move down a floor and cover the same street." She turned her attention back to the stormtroopers. "If you want to be useful, find more stragglers and take them here or to their objectives. I'm not going anywhere until I've secured every possible loose trooper and I'll see you court-martialed if you 'recommend' I do anything else.' And-" she got the message from Sergeant Solar. "Shit. Everyone brace! Incoming friendly artillery. You all know how good the Imperium's aim is. Get under something hard and pray more shells land outside than on our heads!" She keyed back to the Sergeant. "Can't you tell them the flares missed their marks and make them fire twenty meters south?"

Caccia had received the orders to fall back to the building to the east of their position. There was one problem trying to make it to said building, there was no cover along the way for him and the rest of the guardsman squad he was attached to, "Seargent that's going to be a negative on my end! We would be shot to bits it we were to try and make it to that building. Even with some smoke grenades we wouldn't be able to make it in time, I will advance forward and if you want me shot for disobeying orders so be it! At least I will die with some purpose." He talked into his radio before turning his attention to the squad of guardsman, "alright lads! You have three options, number one: come with me and silence the ork anti-air and have a small chance to live, number two: stay here and shoot as many orks you can until this wreck becomes shot to bits and afterwards all die, or option three: run to the east with no cover to the rest of the squads position and not be shot for insubordination." The rest of the guardsman looked at eachother before going with option one.

Caccia went into action to command this squad, "Alright lads! I will throw a smoke grenade up ahead to give us some cover, afterwards follow me to that ork occupied structure just 18 meters away from us and clear it out, the rest we will have to see!" He called out to his squad before throwing a smoke grenade over the wreck and began to wait for the smoke to rise. As the smoke was at its peak he ran followed by the rest of the guardsman, thankfully the smoke combined with the already bad aim of the orks saved them from being picked off one by one, they then made it to the ork building and began to storm the place from the base of the structure just as the smoke wore off.

2nd Company Alpha LZ

Despite the short-lived assault of the Valkyrie Gunship, the Orks continued to push forward against the onslaught of Las-fire. With few heavy weapons specialists or melee combatants on the field, the 501st was about to face an infantry charge that could prove most deadly.

The Orks did not need to utilize any breaches in the defenses- there were enough of them, lead by a pack of Nobz, that there was simply not enough fire to keep them all down.

An unfamiliar Lieutenant's voice sounded over wide-band comms. "Any and all melee combatants to the front! Guardsmen, fix bayonets; Do not let the Emperor find you wan-"


Meanwhile, the tank had been dealt with quite sufficiently; both the Psyker and two Krak grenades had ensured that nothing survived inside the tank, or in the immediate vicinity outside of it- with the exception of a few Orks that had managed to stray far enough away from the cover before it became volatile.

Augustus was quickly near to Belva; apparently having been the trooper to make the previous shot, he was taking careful shots here and there at nearby targets, while covering Belva's exposed side. "Emperor preserve us," he whispered to himself; he had never witnessed such destructive power, but it was for the Emperor at least. "Well done, Ma'am," he said more loudly in between shots.


The first artillery shell hit somewhere to the south. A few moments went by before another one hit, further south; and then a rain of shells began to obliterate the structures south-east of the Landing Zone. A few shells landed amidst the Orks, cutting huge swathes in their numbers; and unexpected support fire from the south-west in the form of heavy stubbers helped to deter the orks.

But nevertheless, melee was engaged with several of the Nobz and a plethora of Boyz cutting into the Imperial front lines.



Near-to-Alpha

"Yes sir, Sergeant," Striker declared, both teams setting up their heavy weaponry. The rest of the guardsmen- about thirteen men who had followed to support them- set up a position around the stairs and began heading down carefully per Pilgrim's instructions.

"Sergeant! Orks are coming, lots of them!" The lasgunners began firing as soon as the first Ork began to charge its way up the stairs.

Disregarding the situation behind them, both heavy weapons teams began to open up on the Orks' flank.


The Catachan, and the troopers foolish or brave enough to go with him, would find themselves crossing the street to the North; much closer to the fighting in Alpha than anywhere else as of yet. The Orks had lost interest in them, deciding instead to go for the newly cleared bottom floor of Sergeant Icarus' building.

The building that Caccia had taken was mostly clear, aside from a few quickly dispatched Gretchins and Grots taking cover and taking pot-shots at the defenders.

More importantly, they would have a good view of the incoming green tide descending on the 501st. Without mincing words, the Guardsmen quickly decided to set up a position at the window and add their las-guns to the fire trying to keep the Orks from advancing.


Shells began to impact to the East and South of the position that Sergeant Icarus had begun to fire from. Despite the increasingly volatile barrage of shrapnel 'Striker' and the other teams continued to fire. Fortunately the position was far enough out of range of the most devastating rounds and rockets to impact the area, but it was still incredibly jarring- and with Orks charging up the stairs, they were soon to be in poor condition.


Secondary Designated LZ, AKA Artillery Strike Zone

The troopers near the Commissar flashed the Aquila and began to proceed with her orders; being from a different squad, they were not privy to the fact that an artillery strike was inbound. With the Commissar berating the Storm Troopers- a much appreciated and most amusing thing for them- they began setting up a position to fire on the encroaching Orks.

"Bloody hell, almost sounds like we lucked out missing Alpha," one guardsman remarked to the other, hearing the wide-band call for melee. Few reveled the chance for engaging Orks in close combat, much less a regiment best suited for quick strikes against softer targets.

The other was about to reply when the Commissar shouted about incoming artillery- and barely in time.


The bottom floor would see significantly more troubles than the upper floors, for the moment. The incoming waves of Orks were, for the most part, put down just as easily as their compatriots in the face of the Hot-Shot Lasguns that the Storm Troopers used, overshadowing the dozen or so other Guardsmen who were being cut down throughout the area.
So it was that the Orks decided the stairs made an excellent target for about ten stikk bombs- which would soon be outclassed by a much larger weapon.



The first couple of artillery impacts were somewhere to the north, and probably seldom noticed amidst the cacophony of the battle around them; but the third impact sounded as if it had landed somewhere very, very close by.

And then it began to rain munitions. Rockets and shells began pelting the area, rocking the very foundations of the planet for all the troopers at its center could tell. A great many of the shells seemed to hit to the north and east of their position, but it was obvious that it was all around.

One shell crashed through the roof, through the floors, and into the basement; a direct hit. The bottom-most floors would quickly become consumed in flame and shrapnel.

The shell obliterated the literal foundations of the structure, sending it into a crumbling descent as the waves of artillery continued to fall around them.



500 Meters North of 1st Company LZ

The Ork vehicles thankfully managed to miss Phoorstein completely; they were more intent on running over the well-visible Guardsmen than attempting to track down stragglers. Nevertheless, it was wise to hide as the vehicles rumbled past, Orks shouting and firing their weapons randomly in the air, eager to charge into the fray.

"Punkt, get to cover, wherever you are. Try to get eyes on an Imperial LZ and link up with the forces there. Once the battle is over you can link up with the squad."

So it was that Trooper Phoorstein's path would bring him closer to a tower, becoming visible through the ash storms in front of him. The tower seemed to be several stories tall, and at the top were several- likely destroyed or dismantled- weapons installations.

Somewhere to the East, an immense series of artillery barrages began.

Caccia found himself to chuckle at the few grots and gretchens in the building, they were so easy to beat that an unarmed guardsman could deal with one. He didint even fire a single shot as the guardsman took them out with las-gun fire before heading to the windows to help thin out the green horde outside. It took him a moment to realize the sheer number of orks advancing, and took his ears longer to stop ringing after hearing all their shouting.

Thankfully they seemed more occupied in charging the building that the Seargent wanted them to head to than fight less than a handful of guardsman and a single Catachan trooper. He took it as a stroke of luck, since they were busy charging a heavily defended location that would mean there would be less defenses guarding the anti-air batteries, but of course running out now would just be suiside so he took position by one of the unoccupied windows and began pelting the orks with his shotgun to make a slight difference in their numbers while taking care not to be hit by random stray bullets that were flying all around.

Icarus Toroun

He heard a very distressed Guardsmen yell out that there were orks coming at to breach the roof. Icarus cursed and ran over to the staircase looking down at the green bodies about to ravage their firing line. "If anyone has flamers, alternate fire down these stairs!" Icarus grabbed a frag grenade off of the guardsmen who had first called out about the orks and threw it down at the first ork he saw, hitting it square in the face. Toroun grabbed the guardsmen and pulled him out of the way as shrapnel and smoke flew out of the stairway.

Icarus let Striker do his job as a series of artillery impacts vibrated the building and their ears. Looking over the Northern side of the building, Icarus turned and asked anyone for a repelling wire and ordered one be set up on that side. Toroun and four other guardsmen then began clearing the North side street of orks the best they could as the rest either flamed the staircase or repelled down the wire. He called on Striker's squad after most of the other men had gone and lastly the flamers. He himself was the final soldier to repel down the wire.

Once they were all on the ground, Icarus took point and led his team chamoline cloaks equiped through cover towards the South-Eastern wall he had taken down earlier and made hand signals for a firing line to be set up on the orks flank to make a crossfire with the rest of the Imperial Guards at Alpha LZ. He held the order to fire until he was ready. He activated his radio and switched to the company channel as well as gave out his orders to fire at the same time."2nd Company, South-East firing squad supplying crossfire. Heavy Stubbers firing on Nobz."

Icarus gave the hand signal and a barrage of Imperial fire sprouted from the South East. Icarus and a couple other guardsmen watched their back side and shot at any orks daring enough to approach from there.

And so it was Cassandra's reputation as the Commissar with a vendetta against the 501st would only worsen, if any of the guardsmen survived long enough to tell of how her safety beacon was a deathtrap.
The Commissar braced against an interior wall as the shells hit. A gas main or something was struck that ran under the road outside, which cracked open and burned everything in both directions within sixty feet. Between that and the bottom floors quickly being buried by the floors above them, there was some precious little time before the survivors of the artillery barrage had any orks to worry about. "Troopers!" She called. "Grim! Get over here." The hallway had two other metal frames, which Cassandra grabbed at with a free hand and (placing her foot against the wall they were rustily bolted into) ripped them out. "We're making a bridge next door. If the Enginseer has a torch or arc tool now would be the time to use it." Otherwise she brought her lascarbine around and made one hell of an improvised attempt at fusing.
How long it would remain or how much weight it could support didn't concern the Commissar as she walked to the end of the hallway and hacked into the wall with her chainsword. She shouted a series of curses as, at first, she made little progress. The center of the building collapsed and the opposite side was groaning over to join it while she made a trooper-sized hole. She walked back over, grabbed the bed-bridge, maneuvered it through, and set its opposite edge on the alley-facing windowsill of the adjacent building, fifteen feet away. "Get a move on!" she ordered as she switched back to her lascarbine. "Use your grav-chutes or you fat-asses are going to drop through this bridge like your mother through her own bed." It was clear she intended to cross last. "Secure the adjacent building!"
The adjacent building, fortunately, had its bottom two floors crammed with furniture, junk, and sections of wall and rubble, first by the hasty (failed) barricading of some civilians and then the damage of the artillery strike. The only way down as through a window or off the roof, but the only way up for the orks would be slow and met by laser fire.

---

Sanders pulled the pin of a krak grenade and threw it. And then the tank suddenly lifted, had its appendages bend in odd ways, and was dropped on top of it. "...what the fuck kind of-?" he tried to question before the explosion rocked the ork armor and blew its tread clear loose. One of the rollers were thrown clear back across the street at him but he was so stunned by what he thought to be the Emperor's direct influence that he didn't even feel it crack his head open.
He did feel Simon kicking him in the hip a minute later. "W-what happened?"
"You saved the day, Ministrant. But now I need you to help save the day again." Sanders had been dragged somewhere else and now had troopers on either side of him. He had missed the message of the ork charge and, hazily, wondered why everyone was shouting and so many lasrifles had become so pointy. Simon was holding his chainsword. "What's happening?"
"The Orks are charging. We're showing them why that is a bad idea. Perhaps on the planets they take, against the weak-willed, weak-bodied enemies they choose to face, their shouts and screams and displays of physical might are impressive and effective, but now they fight the Imperium of Man. We do not bend at the knees and we do not lay in our graves! The Emperor does not find us wanting!"

Bel drew in shaky breaths as she leaned against the crumbling wall to regain her stamina. She peered out the side, watching the Orks running to engage north even as the ground shook from artillery barrages to the south of her position. She didn't know quite was over there, but had no intention of going towards an artillery barrage. Her eyes followed a large group of Orks charging in that direction, further reinforcing her lack of desire to go that way. She ignored the compliment from her 'handler', her eyes watching the torn up street for any more sudden groups of Orks. After a few moments, she let out a soft breath.

"We are regrouping with nearby forces," Bel said, reaching out with her mind to try and find nearby imperial guardsmen instead of sending out a call that could distract them. It seemed the Emperor was still with them, a fairly large group wasn't too far away in a building nearby, "We're moving," She said, bending her head down slightly to stay behind the wall as she advanced along it. She assumed most of the other squad would have tried to regroup with the Sergeant, so joining him was probably for the best and being isolated when artillery barrages were being called in, normally, was not a good idea.

Circling around to the north-east, she could feel in her bones the new artillery barrage that started to hit to the north of her. It seemed the artillery unit was determined to turn everything in the city to slag and to the warp with everyone else. Pressing her back against a corner building, she peered around the edge, her pistol at the ready at a group of guardsmen propelling out of a window and being chased by orks only to catch them in the crossfire. Raising her pistol, she added her own paltry shots at the Orks even if, at that range, her pistol would only inconvenience most of the Orks.

2nd Company LZ & Surrounding Area

Despite the volume of fire leveled on the Orks, they continued charging. The creeping Artillery barrage had crept into their lower ranks; helpful, but not capable of turning the tide away. In moments they were in melee.

The front lines of the Guardsmen began to shatter almost immediately; with so few melee specialists, the Orks plowed through the forward fortifications, such as they were, and began to work their way through. The 501st was not suited for this; but they would have to try to weather it.

Somewhere in the melee, Sergeant Solar was trying to hold another group of Guardsmen together; the squads had been badly split apart, and so anyone of rank was expected to start pulling the company together.


It was around the Priest that resistance would be strongest; armed with a Chainsword, he would be able to keep the Guardsmen closest relatively safe. Inspired to keep fighting, the few Guardsmen around Father Yates toggled their armaments to rapid-fire, overheating their weapons to pour as much damage onto the approaching Orks as possible; before the inevitable melee. A volley of grenades would assist in this, but the green tide was not to be dissuaded.


Caccia's position would soon come under scrutiny. A pack of Boyz, led by a Nob, begin charging the building. A few scattered shots find their way towards him and the Guardsmen, who return fire- but as the rest of the Orks, the goal was to get into melee.


Sergeant Icarus' position would be lost, but this is a fact the man already came to accept; the Guardsmen followed his orders to the best of their ability, but the Orks were too many, even with the narrow lane of approach. Once the drop-line was set for Icarus, the rest of the makeshift squad was quick to descend via their Grav-chutes.

The flame troopers were not able to escape the Orks; even as they charged after the retreating Guardsmen, the Orks charged faster, cutting them down, and howling impotently at the Guardsmen who had just escaped their wrath.

But the battlefield around them was not to be considered a pleasant atmosphere; Orks continued to come from seemingly all sides, pressing the squad closer to the main lines, and Caccia's position.


Belva's position in the North-East put her in a surprisingly docile location; she would be closest to the Sergeant, though whether or not she could pick him out in the ensuing melee was another matter. With the small group of troops entrenched in a building nearby, her and her handler would be contributing to the mass of fire against the Orks.

Her decision to fire on the Orks chasing down another group of Guardsmen would bring their attention to her, however. With a great shout, a pack of them makes way for her position, perhaps sensing her latent power as a deadly foe.


Things could scarcely get worse for the Guardsmen, and yet, there it was; several hundred meters behind the front, at the rear guard, several Ork vehicles had come from behind. Word of this had been relayed by a well positioned Guardsman, but there was still a lacking availability of heavy weapons to deal with it.


The one good thing to occur was a sudden influx of allied dropships. Descending through the skies, these larger landing craft were heading to ground with breakneck speeds. At first the Orks had not noticed them, with the Anti-Air emplacements largely engaging other forces. But they were soon noticed, and the skies were once again filled with a huge quantity of fire.

Several of the ships did not make it, and came crashing down both on Ork positions and those of the 2nd Company. One fortuitously placed crash site was on the front lines, helping to funnel the Orks into several lanes instead of a massive tide, but by this point the melee was already upon them.

If anyone survived the crash, the Orks were quick to break their way in and make that less likely.

Three intact dropships managed to land in the 2nd Company LZ. A wide-band Vox-communication would be sent out.
"This is Commander Odessa of the 32nd Hiigaran Hunter-Killers. We are here to assist."

While still behind friendly lines, for the most part, the three surviving dropships would begin to disgorge the troops of the 32nd; mostly infantry, but several Sentinel walkers, Hellhound support tanks, and a few Chimera transports, came out with them.


Secondary Designated LZ, AKA Artillery Strike Zone

The Commissar's attempts to keep order among the Guardsmen was likely appreciated, but ultimately obsolete; they were terrified, and the structure they were taking shelter in was crumbling around them. They could barely hear the Commissar anymore- deafened by the number of nearby blasts, all they could do is watch her attempt to build some kind of flimsy bridge.

That said, they did not even need to hear her to know that this was their only way out. Of the Guardsmen that had found the position, only five would make it out before the building's upper floors began to collapse entirely; those five using their Grav-chutes to propel themselves across the gap and into the other building, in various states of disarray.

Of course, said other structure was scarcely in better condition, but it hadn't taken a direct hit yet.


On the ground, the Stormtrooper squad would find it difficult to traverse the landscape around them; assuming they could even divine North at this point, the entire area around them had been shelled into oblivion. While the barrage had begun to creep Eastwards, the roads and buildings in the area had made the terrain incredibly hostile.

The small upside was the sudden lack of living Orks. Aside from the few that were in sufficient cover when the barrage began, the streets had been cleared of Orks quite effectively.

The unceasing sounds of the artillery barrages and the immense battle to the North would intermingle, giving them perhaps a rough idea of which ways not to go, and which ways might be friendly.

The skies above were soon filled once again with anti-air fire, and the targets of said fire, a series of landing ships carrying allied reinforcements. Many of them were brought down- why they were dropping before the anti-air was taken out at all was a mystery- but several could be seen making it down successfully beyond the structures to the north, and south-east.

One of the landing craft spiraled into a crashing descent somewhere West of the Stormtroopers, but the chances of survivors was unlikely.

Caccia felt some shots fly right past him from behind while he was busy shooting at orks outside his window. When he turned around he was greeted by a Ork Nob with a pack of boyz right behind it charging their position. The smart man would turn around and run like hell but of course getting killed by the commissar right after he ran didint sit well with him. The only chance he has to live was to fight that group of boyz and the Nob.

His immidiantly action was to grab one of the frag grenades hanging from his waist and tossed it at entrance of the building so it would hit the pack of boyz instead of the Nob since the Nob wouldn't do much exept make it even angrier and not do much. If he could get rid of the numbers maybe he and the guardsman with him could stand a chance against a single Nob.

It was incredible how the appearance of a single Aquila and some comforting words could rally men. Father Yates had fad a gaggle of infantry afraid of the oncoming tide, and turned it into an uneven line of indirect fire. He didn't need a Commissar to motivate soldiers; just needed to remind them that they fought for the Emperor. Sanders (who had equipped himself with the lasrifle of a dead comrade) was right beside him, trying to ignore his head wound. After a fashion he had to hold the rifle out and in front of him while it overheated, but was forced to throw it aside altogether to draw his knife and laspistol.
Yate's life became teeth, flesh, and fire. He couldn't swing without cleaving something in half, but his flamer turned the enemy into an angry, on-fire enemy more than it killed anything. Bodies stacked, artillery and aircraft brought smoke and death to the enemy lines, but it did not accomplish much. "It is amazing," he remarked, "that the universe can fuck up so many times in a row to produce so many of this failed species. But it is that much more practice, before we join the Emperor in destroyed Chaos itself! It is with honor and bravery that the Guardsmen meet all challenges, whether they be heretics or xeno scum!" How he managed to speak clearly on local broadcast was a mystery. "These Orks have asked the Hendrisi Deadfall Regiment for a welcome basket. What the fuck is in that basket, troopers? Soaps? Jewelry? No. Bolts and lasers and fire and death. Treat them the way you treat all unwelcome house guests: With extreme prejudice." There was a lapse just long enough for Sander's to try to catch his breath. He flicked blood from his knife and tried his best to clean the handle so it couldn't slide out of his grip, but the whole weapon, his arm, and torso were covered in blood. Fortunately, none of it was his. "Welcome to Hendrisi," he mumbled.

---

The Commissar didn't feel very good about all the troopers that had been lost to friendly artillery, but at least five strangers, Grim, and Bottles had survived. She didn't know what happened to the special forces but when they didn't join those crossing the street she decided it better not to wait.
The Commissar didn't bother to check the condition of her grav-chute. It lurched, sputtered, and she fell through a window ten feet below landing on her face with an "oof!" She pulled the device off and angrily threw it against a wall, where it sparked and exposed circuitry made her wonder how it had gotten her so far. "Alright," she broadcasted locally as she picked herself up. "We're using the same maneuver to move to the next building over. There's Orks charging the front lines and we can't hit shit from here. Unfortunately none of you troopers are going to be saving the day from the next apartment, though; your job is to hold the block corner and make every intersection around it a no-ork zone. Am I understood? Nothing gets past us. We will prevent the Orks from flanking." She let the troopers a floor above her construct their own bridge and make their way to the next adjacent building; she leaned out the window she'd come from and scanned the rubble for surviving troopers. She could see the special soldiers pulling each other out of debris. "Hey, stop taking a dirt nap and get a fucking move on," she ordered. "The rest of the troopers that aren't trying to get their beauty sleep are in another building over. If you get a move on now I might be kind enough to provide some covering fire." But the road was thankfully empty enough her awkward one-armed lascarbine usage wasn't necessary.

---

Father Yates's chainsword had become clogged with fleshy, pulpy bits. He used it like a massive club until he hit something hard enough to dislodge enough pieces of Ork to let the teeth buzz once more. "The Trooper's guidebook says that Orks are weak, pitiful creatures. Its author gives them too much credit and should be arrested for his exaggerations." Neither Simon nor Sanders knew where they were in the fighting anymore. They had maneuvered backwards, sideways, and turned in all directions as the inconsistent line of Guardsmen shifted with battle.
"Damn bastards," Simon cursed, not thinking he'd be heard.
"What is wrong, Father?"
Simon grabbed one end of the cloth he over both shoulders. It had been singed and torn. "I was hoping to keep my tabbard clean."
"Clean? How can you hope to keep anything clean in a drop?"
Simon shrugged. "You can always hope, no matter how the odds may be against you."
"I'll try to remember that."
"Well in the words of Yosef the Martyr, 'If vengeance be thy name, vigilance be my lineage.'"
"...what does that mean?"
Simon shrugged again. "It sounded impressive at the time. Sometimes thinks don't have to make sense to make a difference." Their conversation was cut short by yet more orks.

---

The Commissar found a staircase and had made it back up to her troopers before they changed buildings again. "I meant today. Hurry the fuck up. Let's go let's let's go." She dropped her lascarbine onto its lanyard and grabbed the makeshift bridge they'd tried to construct and, with help, got it positioned to covered the next alley. Again, she planned to the last one to cross. "Move. Our killzone isn't going to establish itself. You want to earn some fucking medals? You want to save your boyfriend before some Ork makes him his new fuckdoll? Then get a fucking move on."

Icarus Toroun

Sergeant Toroun was in a pinch, almost literally as orks came from left and right nearly overtaking their position. The troops still with him had been depleted by a couple who had been shot in the back while firing on orks in the front. Luckily most of the soldiers still had their grav-chuts so escape as easy for Icarus to figure. "Grav up to the next buildings roof, we take fire position from there and call in an airstrike." He waisted no time finding the smallest set soldier under his command and clung to him for dear life with one arm as the grav-chut lifted them both with a little difficulty as he fired with the other hand at orks within sight.

Once up on the roof that made up the southern edge of the LZ Icarus ordered another support firing squad including the heavy stubbers and grenadiers to help out the melee troops with precision shooting and frags thrown at the back of the orks formation. Icarus got a vox caster unit to give him use of the communication device. "Command, Sergeant Toroun ordering airstrike at Alpha LZ. Laser Paint on target, watch for ground friendlies." He proceeded to scream the confirmation code into the receiver and once finished took his lasgun to the edge of the roof and switched on the undercarriage laser to pinpoint the airstrike location on the central point of the orks numbers.

Luckily there were too many bodies hustling around 2nd Company for most of the orks to fit in with the Imperial Guard so the human casualties would be minimum to none as long as the laser was on point when the airstrike arrived. He made sure to keep low and steady his lasgun for however long it took and prayed to the emperor he would not be shot before hand. Hearing Father Yates over the open channel gave Icarus some comfort and sent his mind into a blank calm state instead of the harsh combative one he used to be in. He switched on his radio since he thought those below in the LZ would not hear him even from his current distance.

"2nd Company, be advised. Valkyrie airstrike inbound on LZ."