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Hey guys,
some of you may know me from my painting and modeling blog ( http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/1800/310208.page#8584318 ).
I'm mostly scratchbuilding my vehicles and building dioramas for them. For each of them I try to write a short narrative description.
Which led over the years to my desire to one day "tell the story".

Well, here's the humble start. I'm not sure where it will lead - or how far
I would appreciate your feedback, suggestions, and comments.
Well, enjoy...

The First Dencara Waaagh

“Sir!”
The operator’s eyes remained on the screen while he raised his voice and attempted to get the attention of his supervising officer. When the Lieutenant didn’t react the Ensign called again.
“Sir, can you check this please?” and waved his hand.
With a frown the officer joined the operator and looked over his shoulder.
“What is it, Kransk?”
“Sir, we picked up a group of objects entering the system.”
The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow.
“That’s nothing out of the ordinary, is it? Most likely Number 4 pulling strings.”
“Ah, no Sir. It’s not the gas giant’s gravitation.”
The officer, who had just started to move back to his desk, stopped and turned around.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we monitored the group since it came into sensor range, and normally it would’ve passed the Dencara system completely, but about 5 minutes ago they changed course and entered the system.”
Ensign Kransk now had Lieutenant Kriss’ undivided attention. .
“They changed course?”
Kransk pressed a few buttons and the screen now showed a replay of the sensor data.
“Yes, normal trajectory would’ve continued along this line.”
His fingers indicated a green line on the screen.
“But the whole group diverged and their course is now heading straight into the system.”
The display now showed an additional red line.
While Lieutenant Kriss considered this with a frown Kransk added.
“In addition they kind of kept formation.”
With his fingers he indicated quotes for the last word and continued.
“Not in a military sense, but all 10 objects altered course pretty much at the same time and are now heading the same way.”
Kriss straightened up.
“Where will their new course get them to?”
“If they keep course they will simply pass through the system, without crossing the orbit of any planet or moon, Sir.”
Lieutenant Kriss looked at Ensign Kransk and asked:
“But you don’t think so?”
Kransk bit his lower lip, took a deep breath and then replied:
“Sir, I don’t think these are simply a bunch of asteroids being pulled into the system by gravity. I have the suspicion there is more in this than meets the eye.”
He pressed some buttons again, and the display now showed the real time data. The group of objects was clearly visible and the computer projected a calculated course through the Dencara solar system.
At their current course and speed the group would pass by Dencara 8, the small piece of rock, hardly qualifying as a planet, on which the Imperial sensor and observation post was located. It would also pass all other 7 planets and moons of the Dencara system. Most importantly it would neither cross the orbit of Dencara 6, an agricultural world on which most of the food for the entire system was produced, nor would it cross paths with Dencara 5.
Dencara 5, the primary planet with its space port, the mining and processing plants and the mostly underground metropolis and capitol Xanthium.
“Please transfer it to the main screen.”
Lieutenant Kriss turned around and pointed to the main display screen that dominated the wall across from the operating stations.
Immediately the situation was displayed on the main screen and all operators were able to follow the progress of the group of objects.
“Do we have any scans or visuals?” Lieutenant Kriss asked.
Another set of data was displayed on a secondary screen besides the huge master screen.
“Initial scans didn’t show anything out of the ordinary. Lots of rock, stone, some metallic elements, some carbonates. The usual mix.”
The image on the main display changed as Ensign Kransk switched to real time footage.
“This is what our cameras are picking up.”
The footage was grainy and dim, but the group of dark, irregularly shaped objects was well visible. They really looked like a bunch of, admittedly huge, rocks and asteroids.
A soft sound chimed on one of the servitor’s consoles and the operator checked his instruments. Despite being mechanically augmented and having much of his human features replaced by bionic devices his voice carried a distinct note of alarm when he spoke.
“Ah Sir! Sir! I’m getting some curious emissions from the main object.”
He checked his console again.
“I think we’re being scanned!”
Lieutenant Kriss pointed to the operator and then to the main display. The servitor transferred his instrument readouts to the main screen and all were able to evaluate the data their selves.
Several spikes and burst of energy became visible and numerous warning lights flared.
While Lieutenant Kriss was staring at the data and analyzing the situation another cry sounded through the control room.
“Torpedoes! They are firing at us!”
The live footage on the screen showed several fiery objects leaving the main object. The torpedoes traced a tight curve and headed straight for the camera.
It looked as if they were flying directly into the control room.
Lieutenant Kriss turned around, bent over his console and slammed his hand onto the alarm button.
Claxons howled and lights blinked as the battle alarm was triggered.

Being in a far off part of the Segmentum Ultima,Dencara had always been a quiet system. Many in the Imperium have never heard of it. It was so insignificant that it was even Adeptus Non – it didn’t have to pay any tributes to the Emperor.
The Dencara system had a rather unusual composition and planetary arrangement, with the gas giant Dencara 4 in close proximity to Dencara 5’s orbit, which constantly pulled asteroids into the planet’s path, thus delivering many precious ores and rare elements via an almost constant orbital bombardment. These ores and elements allowed the Dencarian refining facilities to produce special alloys and materials that were of high demand in many forge worlds. The system was so quiet and peaceful that only a handful of Adeptus Arbites units and a few regiments of local Planetary Defense Forces were stationed in the Dencara system.
But since most of the Space Marine forces in the Ultramar Sector were destroyed in the First Tyranid War on Macrage, the trade routes from and to Dencara had been subject to ever more frequent pirate attacks, and a more powerful space fleet had been raised. It was organized around two locally constructed MANTIS cruisers and several COLER-Class destroyers. So far they had been quite capable of dealing with any overzealous pirate.

As the alarm was sounded from Masuruh Station the commander of the Dencarian Space Navy was immediately connected to Lieutenant Kriss on Dencara 8.
“A general alarm? What is going on Lieutenant?!”
The Captain’s face was filling the screen of Kriss’ communication console. And it was not a happy face.
“Sir, we’re under attack!”
Captain Giaroni’s eyebrows drew together.
“We observed a group of objects entering the system. And they have just fired a salvo of torpedoes at us!”
“Torpedoes? What objects? Are you drunk?”
Even though he was displaying anger over the disturbance, Captain Giaroni was concerned enough to signal his second in command to relay the alert and prepare the System’s fleet for immediate action.
“Speak up man! What is going on?”
The Lieutenant on Dencara 8 swallowed and then reported:
“Sir, we have been monitoring a group of 10 objects entering our system. Initially we classified them as large asteroids, but while we examined the data, the objects started to scan us and then they opened fire.”
The Captain turned to his subordinate and gave orders to set course towards the intruders.
“From the profile of the fired weapons we think they are torpedoes…”
He raised his finger toward the officer as an Ensign approached him and showed him some data on a tablet screen. Lieutenant Kriss nodded and then turned back to his communication console.
“Well Sir...”
He swallowed.
“The data indicates … Orks, Sir.”
“ORKS?!?”
Shock, disbelief and fear flitted across the Captains face.
Then his training kicked in.
“Are you and your men safe? Have you raised shields?”
Just as the Lieutenant nodded and opened his mouth to reply the screens flickered. With concern Captain Giaroni watched the young Lieutenant stumble and grab the communication console. The image shook and with a small delay the sound of explosions came through the speakers.
Lieutenant Kriss looked around.
Several operators laid on the ground, others were looking up to the ceiling. More than one computer screen was black. Dust trickled down from the roof. Voices cried out and several others were coughing. But on first glance no one seemed to be hurt seriously. After all, the command center was located in a bunker buried meters under the surface.
Kriss checked the instruments and displays.
“We have lost many sensors and the prime telescope, but I think we’re in good shape Sir.”
Another operator approached Kriss and reported.
Relieved, Kriss relayed the information to Captain Giaroni:
“The shields held and most of the damage was deflected. No breaches in the structures. We have some minor injuries on the upper levels. No fatalities.”
“OK, keep your heads down. Continue reporting the course and progress of the … ships. We’ll intercept.”
With these words the Captain turned on the communication console and headed for the bridge of his flagship.

Lieutenant Kriss kept the communication channel open when he turned back, looking into the command center. Most of the operators were back at their consoles. Two Tech-Priests had entered and were attempting to regain control of some of the failed systems. One of the mechanically augmented Servitors laid on its side, sparks showering from its shorted implants.
The first Tech-Priests turned to him, but before he could do anything the servitor burst into flames. Another alarm went off, and the cables connecting the doomed servitor to his console were automatically severed, preventing the damage to spread to the precious equipment.
With a resigned sigh the Tech-Priest grabbed an extinguisher and drowned the flames in a thick carpet of foam. It would be a lot of work to clean the bionic parts of the dead creature and get it back into working order.
He waived to a recruit that had just entered the room.
“Pick him up, dispose of the organic material and bring the rest into the workshop.”
The young recruit’s eyes rounded.
“Don’t stare like a cow! Get moving or will you need to receive some upgrades?”
The recruit swallowed and got to work.
In the meantime the other Tech-Priest was able to repair some of the sensors and tapped into another video source. The main display now showed the scene from a different angle and with inferior quality.
Petty Officer Zahan, a lanky young man from the low-gravity world of Tedescum, or Dencara 7, checked his instruments one more time and then spoke over his shoulder.
“They have altered course again!”
Lieutenant Kriss kept his eyes on the main screen, but asked.
“Where are they heading?”
“If they don’t change course or speed, they are heading straight for Dencara 5.”
Several surprised gasps were audible.
“Are you sure?”
The Petty Officer nodded and transferred his instrument data to the main screen. While the video feed was now displayed in a smaller window, the projected course of the group was now clearly visible.
But it also showed the course of the little fleet heading to intercept. The two Cruisers, five Destroyers and accompanying AYUSHI Escorts and ZUMMACH Torpedo Ships were closing in fast. The slow but forbidding weapons platform was lumbering behind. But with its enormous range and destructive power it didn’t need to be any faster – all it needed was a clear line of fire.
All eyes were riveted to the screens as a cloud of smaller objects detached from the Dencarian fleet and rapidly closed the gap to the intruders. Captain Giaroni had launched his first wave of FURY fighters.
“Defensive fire! We’re receiving enemy fire!”
The speakers delivered the voices of the fighter pilots as they engaged the enemy ships.
“These are definitely no asteroids! Lots of laser and stubber fire!”
On the screen the individual fighters were lost compared to the huge hunks of the enemy crafts, but the flashing lights of laser fire and explosions were clearly visible.
“Launch the torpedoes!”
Captain Giaroni’s voice was calm as he gave his orders.
The main display showed a new hail of objects heading towards the Orks.
Reports of casualties were relayed as many of the fighters fell prey to the enemy fire, but so far the Orks hadn’t launched any Interceptors of their own.
After the first strafing run over the Ork ships the fighters pulled up and away in preparation for the torpedoes impacts.
A series of explosions raked over the enemy ships as the first wave of torpedoes reached their targets.
Loud cheers erupted in the control centre, but Lieutenant Kriss didn’t join the celebrations yet.
As the fighters swooped down for a second run they discovered that the torpedoes had hit well, but only managed to blast away the outer layer of rocks.
Again the small Dencarian skirmishers y were greeted by heavy enemy fire and as more and more of the fighters were blown apart huge hangar doors opened and released hundreds of Ork interceptor crafts. Crude machines made of a chaotic hotchpotch of materials, but each armed to the teeth with large calibre canons and powerful lasers.
These KRAVAZ entered the fight right in the backs of the Imperial fighters and immediately wreaked havoc among the defenders. Caught between the defensive fire from the ships and the interceptors’ shooting from behind many of the Imperial FURIES exploded.
Other pilots pulled away trying to escape the firestorm.
At the same time hatches hidden in the surface of the large vessels opened and a volley of Ork torpedoes was launched at the small Dencarian fleet. With the Ork KRAVAZ fighters in their backs the Imperial pilots had no chance to intercept the torpedoes and the fleet had to rely solely on their defensive weapons to stop the incoming missiles.
While the smaller torpedo boats moved into position between the Ork projectiles and their own capital ships, the NEMESIS weapons platform was finally in position to join the fight.
The enormous NOVA Cannon was loaded with a projectile as big as some of the smaller ships. Energy banks were charging up, lining up gravimetric impellers that would accelerate the shell to a fraction of the speed of light and hurl it at the enemy.
One after another the coils were charged up and lights on the bridge of the NEMESIS finally signalled readiness.
The platform commander nodded at the servitor manning the NOVA controls.
“FIRE!”
Despite being in the non-atmospheric voids of space a glowing ball erupted from the rail as the projectile was launched. Its tip glowed as it raced across the distance between the NEMESIS and the most forward Ork ship.
Even while the missile was still in flight crews of slaves manned machinery and cranes to open the breech mechanism of the gun and loading a new shell into it.
The impact of several hundred tons of especially hardened alloys rushing at sub light speed against the Ork vessel released tremendous kinetic energies in a gigantic explosion. The ensuing fireball was spectacular to say the least.
The enemy ship was torn apart and many secondary explosions ripped through the remaining sections, now drifting through space.
Loud cheers erupted again and this time Lieutenant Kriss joined and pumped his fist into the air.
But at the same time the Ork torpedoes reached their first target.

In a valiant effort to protect the bigger craft from the swarm of torpedoes the smaller Imperial ships formed a line and their Close-In Weapon Systems erected a wall of defensive fire. Torpedo after torpedo was blasted apart, but with each torpedo that exploded, another one got closer,
On the left of the line a first ZUMMACH torpedo boat had expended all its ammunition and now relied solely on its void shields.
The first torpedo impacted and the resulting explosion was deflected by the shield, but leaving it so weakened that the next torpedo flew straight through and struck the hull of the hapless ship. Despite the relatively small size of the ship the explosion was dazzling.
Apparently, the Ork commander had decided to fit Plasma warheads in his first wave of torpedoes.
To Captain Giaroni it was clear he had to act fast. His fleet could not withstand another wave. He gave orders to fire the next wave of torpedoes armed with melta warheads and prayed to the Emperor that the NOVA cannon would be ready to fire again in time.
“Aim for the big one! I assume it is a HAMMA class heavy cruiser.”
By now it was clear the Orks had, in an act of absolute ingenuity, covered their ships in a thick layer of rock, giving them the appearance of asteroids. So far no one knew where these Orks came from, which clan they belonged to, nor why they had chosen to invade the Dencara system. But after the impacts of the first Imperial torpedoes the scanners of the Masuruh Station could finally penetrate some of the cloaking and classify the vessels.
Besides being exceedingly heavily armed, the HAMMA cruisers could also act as huge troop transports. If this fleet landed on Dencara 5 and managed to spill its’ thousands of Greenskins, he wasn’t sure the defensive forces on the planet would be able to withstand such an onslaught.
In truth, he was rather sure they would not.
He had to stop the Orks in space – or die trying.
The two Cruisers and five Destroyers fired their full load of torpedoes, just as the Ork projectiles broke through the remnants of the defensive screen.
Almost all of the small vessels were either completely destroyed or drifting away from the carnage without control.
The weapons of the larger ships were not designed to intercept incoming torpedoes. Nevertheless the weapon batteries and lance turrets opened fire. Surprisingly many of the Ork missiles exploded. But it was too little.
The first COLE Destroyer was hit by 6 torpedoes at the same time. The void shields were never designed for such an onslaught and collapsed before diminishing any of the torpedoes forces. Just the power of the blast was enough to break the ships keel. It broke like a child’s toy.
After it had fired its torpedoes and a full broadside of its batteries, Captain Giaroni ordered the MANTIS to come about and meet the incoming projectiles head on. The Cruiser wasn’t the most nimble and agile of ships, but with the gaps the defensive fire had torn into the umbrella of torpedoes, the desperate manoeuvre miraculously succeeded.
Fully aware that this was most likely the last stroke of luck he would ever have in his life he ordered his servitors and tech priests to launch the Cruiser full speed at the Orks. The induction cells whined and the huge thrusters accelerated the ship ever faster.
Explosions all around signalled the destruction of his fleet.

The operators and servitors on Masuruh station had fallen silent. The main display had transmitted the destruction of the Dencarian fleet with merciless clarity. Symbol after symbol vanished on the plotting screen as flash after flash indicated the destruction of another Imperial ship on the video display.
Lieutenant Kriss swallowed hard.
There was nothing he could do. High Command on Dencara 5 was alerted and all defensive forces were moving out. The last defensive weapon stations in orbit were manoeuvring to meet the Ork ships.
His crew was transmitting and relaying all the available information, but it felt like being the hoodoo.
“They are going to ram it!”
The Lieutenant snapped back and checked the screen. Indeed the symbol of the remaining cruiser, the flagship “Lord-General von Hainbuch”, was still moving.
Moving fast. In a straight line at the main Ork ship.
“That’s insane!” yelled Petty Officer Zahan.
Calmly Lieutenant Kriss responded.
“It is the ultimate sacrifice to the Emperor.”
“For the Emperor”
What started as a low whisper by one of the operators was picked up by the others and soon a chant rang out.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
It was as if they were urging them on. Each cry was louder than the previous. Faster and faster.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
The symbol was closing fast with the Ork ships and the main display showed numerous flashes of defensive fire as the savages realized what the valiant cruiser was attempting.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
Seconds before the Hainbruch reached the Ork ship the NEMESIS made its presence felt one last time.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
The NOVA cannon fired.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
Just as the projectile left the cannon the last Ork torpedoes found their mark.
With a gigantic explosion the NEMESIS was evaporated.
But the projectile was on its way.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
The hyper-kinetic projectile smashed into one of the smaller Ork ships.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
The Ork RAVAGER was torn apart. The explosion was strong enough to send a blast wave through the Ork formation, blasting several KRAVAZ and the last FURY interceptors out of existence.
The overheated shields of the Ork ships glowed.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
The gigantic ram of the cruiser cut through the shields.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
The prow of the Dencarian flagship smashed into the HAMMA.
“For the Emperor! For the Emperor!”
The resulting explosion was, even after all the carnage and destruction of this battle, breathtaking.
“FOR THE EMPEROR!”

The explosion was so bright that the lenses of the telescopes and most sensors on Masuruh station went black.
Static hissed from the speakers. Everybody fell silent.
Slowly, one after one the instrument readouts flickered back. The plotting screen now showed only the red symbols for the Ork fleet.
Seven symbols!
Apparently the sacrifice of the fleet commander had destroyed the Ork ship. But the torpedoes, even armed with Melta warheads, had not destroyed any other ships. Damaged surely.
The main video feed came back online and the Masuruh Station crew could see the remaining Ork fleet.
The Melta explosions had stripped most of the vessels of their rocky cover and the scanners identified the remaining ships as one more HAMMA heavy cruiser, two KROOZER cruisers, three BRUTE RAM destroyers and one more RAVAGER escort.
The four smaller ships seemed to be heavily damaged and had problems keeping up with the cruisers. One of the destroyers had lost control completely and shimmied away. It would later crash into one of the moons of Dencara 7. But the other 6 ships continued towards Dencara 5.
The holographic display flickered and vanished. The ambient light brightened to the standard light strength and Bernhard von Kaltenberg stepped forward.
“And this is how the first Dencara Waaagh started.”
He looked at the ten young students sitting in a half-circle before him. Two students from each of the noble houses of Dencara. Some of them would most likely become members of the High Council, others would take over representative positions in the military – Commissars most of the time. The position inherited by tradition – and bribery.
One, young Camkierhi of house Cesca, might become an Artisan within the Adeptus Mechanicus. He showed lots of talent and was only second in line for his house.
“What do you know about the first Dencara Waaagh?”
Weishan of house Xiu, a very cheeky young lady, destined to become the next leader of her house was first to answer.
“Due to a navigational glitch a considerable element of Ma’Kakaah’s Waaagh was accidently drawn into the Dencara system 300 years ago.”
Von Kaltenberg raised one eyebrow and a thin young man, dressed in black added rather blasé.
“307 years ago.”
Von Kaltenberg frowned at him.
“And?”
Keeping his casual and bored pose Derek of house Broughtflower amended.
“The highest ranking boss, named Shucktuck, decided to honor Gork and Mork for their interference and called out his own Waaagh. Despite being rather clueless – as they all are – the Orks managed to assemble quickly after their crash landing and assaulted over the Koetting heights directly to Xanthium.”
Nodding curtly von Kaltenberg looked at another young lady. Marissa of house Cesca. She sniffed and then said:
“With their unprovoked and perfidious attack the Orks were able to penetrate most of the defenses of your noble ancestors…”
A snort was heard from the direction of Derek, but Marissa continued.
“The greenskins reached the outer regions of Xanthium after just a few days. They destroyed many of the Imperial regiments on their way. But as they reached Xanthium their advance was hampered. The regiment, which was later to become the XIX Guards, located on the southeast acted like a rock and was the anchor of the whole southern defense…”
“Ja, Ja, and it was commanded by your great-great-great-yada-yada-Super-Uber-Grandfather Colonel Estara.”
The voice of Hannah, first in line for house Drachenstein, was laced with sarcasm.
But before she could interfere any more von Kaltenberg interrupted:
“It is however undeniable, that the actions of Colonel Estara were a key factor to the defense of Xanthium. From a small bank the regiment conducted several spoiling attacks into the Orks flanks, while calling in accurate artillery strikes on the attackers.”
Pietr a heavy set man with a broad face, belonging to house Sudekov, asked:
“Was it really just this regiment? What about all the others?”
“Well, most certainly all the defenders of Dencara fought valiantly, but the powerful and relentless attacks, wave after wave crushed many of the regiments. And it was the Colonel who managed to seize many of the stragglers and survivors and incorporated them into his force. This very successful combination of forces – Infantry, Armor, Artillery and some Air units – would later become the role model for Dencara’s Guard regiments.”

A huge thanks to "Littletower" for providing a huge amount of feedback and corrections - I updated accordingly

Colonel Estara
“Colonel? Wing Commander von Wetzhausen is here”
The orderly stepped aside and the announced officer entered the tent.
Outside the sounds of battle were all around. Several explosions sounded near, but after days of constant fighting and battle it seemed most ignored the explosions unless they got very near.
Colonel Estara, a stout, bald man looked up from his map table. With a frown at the immaculate and clean uniform of the Wing Commander he moved around the table to greet him and his entourage.
“Ah, finally!”
Von Wetzhausen seized the Colonel and his crumpled and dusty uniform and looked down his nose at him as he replied:
“It is rather unusual for me to be summoned this way.”
Estara squinted his eyes and said, now in a rather colder tone:
“Well, it seems our calls for air support were not answered, so I sent one of my soldiers to ensure our calls are answered.”
The Wing Commander sniffed and then replied:
“It’s not that they weren’t answered, we simply can’t provide air support at the moment.”
Estara’s eyebrows shot up.
“Why is that? Aren’t you the responsible officer for this sector?”
Von Wetzhausen straightened up and replied with an air of superiority:
“Yes, I am the commanding officer for this sector…”
Estars cut in:
“So where is my air support then?”
Again the air force officer sniffed before replying:
“We only have a hand full of old Marauder bombers available right now. And for these it currently not possible to provide air support.”
Colonel Estara inclined his head to one side and asked:
“Can they fly?”
The Wing Commander pranced and said:
“Off course they fly!”
Colonel Estara moved forward, put his arm around von Wetzhausen’s shoulder and moved with him towards the tent entrance.
“Let me show you something Commander.”
Outside smoke and dust was drifting across the area. Shots, explosions and screams were omnipresent. Orders were barked.
Estara pushed the Wing Commander towards the berm that shielded the command area at least marginally from the battlefield.
They both climbed halfway up the berm, until they were able to look at the battlefield.
The sight was apocalyptic.
Smoke, fire, explosions all around. It was indescribable.
“Can you see this? These are our guys fighting for their life!”
His arm motioned across the battlefield.
“They are fighting against Orks. And what they need now, if air support.”
“But we can’t – not against these odds!” exclaimed von Wetzhausen.
Again Colonel Estara squinted his eyes and then pointed to the sky.
“What do you see Commander?”
Bewildered the Wing Commander looked up.
“Aehm, smoke, clouds…”
“Exactly! And do you see what is not there? Planes! Aircraft!”
With each word the Colonel got louder.
“For whatever reason the Orks have no planes. I don’t give gak why. Probably they forgot to pack them, or they were destroyed with the cruisers our valiant Navy shot down.”
He looked the Wing Commander in the eyes
“I don’t care why, but I know the Orks have no airpower whatsoever. So I ask you again: When will my troops get air support?”
“But…but it’s only some old Marauders. We can’t!”
Colonel Estara nodded. Then he glanced over his shoulder with a curt nod.
Out of the shadow of the tent the black clad figure of Commissar Sontaya emerged, followed by his massive Orgryn bodyguard Hans.
Wing Commander von Wetzhausen looked confused and took a step back.
“I am sorry, but we simply can’t provide air support!”
A note of panic in his voice.
The commissar’s eyes were not readable behind the small, reflective glasses of his spectacles.
Slowly, in a well calculated move Commissar Sontaya opened the holster at his hip, pulled his old fashioned pistol and raised it.
“Surely you can’t…”
The shot rang out.
The body of Wing Commander von Wetzhausen crumbled to the ground. A look of utter surprise still etched into his features his eyes stared blankly at the sky – the empty sky.
Colonel Estara turned around and looked at the Wing Commanders entourage.
“So, who’s in charge for this sector now?”
A young Squadron Leader cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“This will be me, Sir!”
Colonel Estara mustered the officer and asked:
“When will I get my air support?”
The Squadron looked to his accompanying officers and then back to Colonel Estara.
“Give me an hour, Sir.”
“Thirty minutes!”
Squadron Leader Tubbs swallowed and then nodded.
“Yes Sir!”
He turned around to leave, but the Colonel held him back.
“Sorry Squadron Leader. But you will stay here with me and Commissar Sontaya. You will coordinate the attacks from here together with me.”
Tubbs swallowed again turned around to the other air force officers and nodded to them.
“Of course Sir. But I will need a communications link.”
While the other air force officers quickly left the scene, Colonel Estara snipped his fingers at one of his orderlies.
“Get this man a comms link and a spot to sit.”
While the officers entered the tent the Orgryn bent down and grabbed the dead Wing Commander and set to drag him off. He was stopped by Commissar Sontaya, who bent down and stripped the corpse of any insignias, medals and even the name tag. He would be disposed without any honors.
Sontaya turned around and entered the command tent.

Colour Sergeant Gunnarson
Totally exhausted they dropped to the ground.
Sergeant Gunnarson looked around at his remaining soldiers. Dirty and dusty, several with bloody bandages. Only 50 men left.
After days of vicious fighting and constant retreat they finally disengaged from these cursed Greenskins and managed to slip into this ravine under cover of the night. They followed it all night long and now with dawn near they were very close to the Faichem Canyon. The canyon cut through the Giadamak Heights, leading north towards Xanthium and would hopefully lead them close to their own lines again. According to his map it was quite far from the main line of battle and should keep them out of harm’s way for a while.
They had lost their last real officer in the evening and since then Colour Sergeant Gunnarson was in charge. He had gathered the remnants of his unit, including Officer Cadet Brunnthaler, who was almost catatonic since the last fight with the Orks.
Brunnthaler, a pale, chubby young man had joined the 11th Infantry Battalion just few weeks ago, fresh from training. Captain MacInesker was still trying to forge him into a real man and officer and forced him to stay at the Captain’s side at all times. Before the cursed Orks landed Brunnthaler was put through his paces and MacInesker pushed him to his limits whenever possible. Especially physically.
Actually Gunnarson had to admit that Brunnthaler had shown signs of improvements and he secretly respected the young man for never complaining. No matter how gruesome the challenge by MacInesker had been, he never moaned. Brunnthaler had grit his teeth and gave his best.
And even in the fighting he didn’t cower. He stayed at the Captains side.
Until last evening when they were ambushed by the Orks on the Grimauld Plains.
After two days of constant fighting at the foot of the Caledonies they road marched north. Their only means of transport were two Chimeras which transported the wounded and an old and battered truck, which they had commandeered from some scavengers. The truck carried the last of their heavy weapons.
The Orks attacked out of a small ravine, destroying the Chimeras first. In the ensuing confusion the Troopers were unable to get their heavy stubbers and autocannons into action and had to rely their personal weapons. Luckily it was a small band of Orks and they attacked without finesse.
After the initial rocket attack they jumped form their hiding place and charged straight at them.
MacInesker had quickly recovered and organized the defense.
They used the burning wrecks of the Chimeras as well as the old truck as cover and laid down a hail of fire. Bolters and Lasguns blazing they mowed down the first wave of Orks.
But they kept coming.
Firing form the hip the Greenskins charged and despite the inaccurate nature of their fire, many bullets found their mark.
Vicious hand to hand fighting ensued and the massive Orks killed many soldiers with their blades and even bare hands. Captain MacInesker wielded his power-sword and killed two or three of the Orks. But then a huge Ork, clad in crude armor, carrying a huge two-bladed axe as if it was a child’s toy attacked him.
MacInesker was able to block the first strike with his sword and the young Brunnthaler beside him managed to swipe his sword at the Ork brute. But the Ork simply batted the Cadet to the side and pushed on. The next swing of the axe jarred MacInesker’s arm and he was unable to parry the following attack.
In a wide arc the axe came down and almost split the Captain in half. But before the Ork could continue his attack he was finally hit by several bolter rounds and crumbled to the ground. He came to rest right beside the corps of his last victim, Captain MacInesker, the last officer of the 11th Infantry Battalion.
Only when Gunnarson was able to get the remaining flamethrowers into action were they able to stop and repel the attack. It was almost dusk when the last Ork was killed and they were finally able to breathe and take stock.
They were shocked to see so many dead. The truck was damaged beyond repair and most of the heavy weapons destroyed. Unsettled Colour Sergeant Gunnarson realized that he was now in charge. Officer Cadet Brunnthaler sat beside the corpse of Captain MacInesker, rocking slowly back and forth, mumbling words no one understood.
A count revealed that only 50 soldiers had survived. Several wounded.
After conferring with the other surviving NCO’s he decided to head east, using the very ravine the Orks had used to set their trap, and attempt to reach Faichem Canyon and travel back to their lines.
They used the cover of the night and moved down the ravine, constantly heading east. As dawn neared they reached the end of the ravine.
According to the map they were almost at the entrance to the canyon and would only have to cross about one kilometer of open ground. Gunnarson ordered a halt and they dropped down totally exhausted.
But before they could rest Gunnarson motioned to Lance Corporal Dupree and ordered him to climb the ravine wall and scout the area.
He wiped the sweat and dust from his forehead and was just opening his canteen when Dupree slid back down and kneeled beside Gunnarson.
“Sarge, you need to look at this.”
With this he pointed back up the ravine wall.
With an exhausted sigh Gunnarson got up and climbed the wall with the Lance Corporal.
“Careful, you don’t want to stick you head out too far.”
Bemused Sergeant Gunnarson crept up the last centimeters and looked across the edge.
He gasped.

BTW, here's a (Work in Progress) Map of Dencara V

Cheers

N056223
He had blisters on his hands, his back hurt and he was thirsty.
But the guard was very alert, and he was quick with his light-whip. Twice N056223 had felt the burning sting of the whip on his back because the guard felt he was working too slowly. They were working here outside the Xanthium citadel for three days now. Digging trenches and defensive positions just short of the southern tip of the citadel. Where the two lava chasms almost met.
Here the Lord General planned to make the last stand before the citadel itself. The network of trenches, foxholes and newly emplaced pillboxes and dug-in tanks was extensive. Thousands of slaves like N056223 were digging into the hard packed ground, often forced to use explosives to cut through the rocks. Even though they had many power tools like jackhammers, diggers and power shovels it was bone-breaking labor.
The sun was constantly burning down on them and they were only allowed to pause for a cup of water once per hour. Every three hours they would get a 30 minutes break. Many of the other slaves slumped to the ground then, but N056223 had realized that it was getting harder to get back up every time. So he mostly remained standing, tried to sooth his aching muscles and look for bits of shade.
The guards were merciless with their shock-staffs and light-whips – sometimes without real reason. Twice they executed an example and beat a slave to death because he tried to run away. But many slaves had already died without the guard’s interference. Simply from exhaustion of dehydration. It was gruesome.
This morning N056223 and about one hundred other slaves were moved to a new position, a few hundred meters to the south, to start a new trench. From the width and position between the lava chasms N056223 had assumed some kind of anti-tank ditch. But they were building up berm in front of the ditch with the excavated.
And by now the trench was way too deep and wide for a simple anti-tank ditch. It was about 3 meters deep and at least 10 meters wide. Only the highway, connecting the southern cities with Xanthium was still intact, crossing the trench. But the engineers were already positioning explosive charges to the road itself as well as to the supporting ground.
By now N056223 and the other workers had almost connected the trench to the western chasm, the Canyon Aquilonem. And as the engineers moved to this end of the trench with even more explosives N056223 began to understand what Lord General Rees had planned. It seemed he planned to create a continuous chasm filled with lava from the western Daharr Range over to the cliffs of the Giadamak heights. It wouldn’t be an unbridgeable obstacle, but it would hold the enemies advances in check for a while. And while the Orks tried to bridge the gap, they would be under fire of the defense line the slaves just built as well as the major gun batteries of the citadel itself.

First off, I want to thank you for your commetns and feedback via PM or email to "Dencara-Story -at- web.de"
These are very helpful and I fixed some stuff
Thanks.
So, here's some more from Colonel Estara - happy reading

Colonel Estara
Lieutenant Kiruban nodded to the signals sergeant, straightened up and walked over to the plotting table.
“We’ve lost contact with another unit.” She said with a worried look on her face.
“Another?” the Colonel exclaimed.
“Which and where?” he asked looking back down at the maps.
“For sure the 11th down here” she pointed at the southern end of the map. “They guarded the foot of the Caledonians.”
“Any news from Marsitas City?” he asked looking at her.
The strain of the constant battle and bad news showed clearly on his face. The lines etched deep into his features, as well as a constant frown and sometimes a slight hunch to his shoulders.
“We’re still in contact with Marsitas.” She said, looking at her PDA. “The local Militia has set up some roadblocks and prepared demolitions to block the pass.”
“Looks as if at least someone…” He emphasized the last word. “…knows his job!”
Walking around the plotting table he asked.
“Do we know what happened to the 11th?”
“After they repelled several Ork attacks the last officer …” she looked at her notes again. “…a Captain MacInesker attempted to meet up with the 23rd Regiment further north at the Caravansary Crossroads.”
“Not the wisest, but a sensible move” Colonel Estara said with a nod.
“But apparently they never made it.” Her jaw muscles tightened when she continued.
“We got a frantic message of an Ambush and then lost contact.”
Again she looked at the PDA and continued.
“It could be damaged equipment, but it was several hours ago and the 23rd have not made contact either.”
Before the Colonel could say anything she continued.
“I ordered the 23rd to dispatch some scouts south to investigate.”
“You certainly know your job.” He said with a tired grin.
“So we have lost most of the South.” His hand pointed to the south of the map.
“Castellum Hobbs two days ago, and now apparently the Canyon Maritimas and the foot of the Caledonians too.”
He looked at the assembled officers around the plotting table and continued.
“If we also loose the Caravansary Crossroads, the entire South is gone and the Orks can attack Grimauld Plains from two sides.”
With grim satisfaction he saw the worried looks at their faces.
“Any suggestions?”
“I’m sure we can’t have lost all the men of these units.” Said a young Captain from the Artillery unit Estara had requisitioned a few days ago.
“Maybe we can send some Feldjäger to hunt for survivors?”
Colonel Estara nodded and then looked at Commissar Sontaya.
“Aren’t you and your peers using a separate communications network?”
“Yes we are.” The black clad Commissar stood rigid, hands clasped behind his back a bit apart of the other officers.
“But it seems we have exceptionally high losses.” He said with an unreadable expression. His eyes hidden behind the reflective glasses.
The Colonels eyebrows shot up.
“Do you presume foul play?” he asked with concern.
The Commissar stroked the little goatee at his chin and said.
“Some of my peers are very eager to serve the Emperor and the Governor in these times of need.” With an almost toneless voice.
“Sometimes they may get carried away in the heat of battle and they may rush into…” he paused for a moment.
“…Imprudent actions that may put the glory of battle before their survival instincts.”
Colonel Estara was sure that the Commissar was secretly leering at his mostly noble peers, but not a note of humor or irony was in his voice as he continued.
“No, I don’t assume any foul play Colonel.”
Estara nodded.
“But you may also know that each Commissar has a Ogryn bodyguard.” He said looking at the other officers.
“And the Ogryns have their own – admittedly primitive – communications network.”
Most officers looked very surprised.
“Hans here will confer with his brothers and attempt to descry the situation of these lost units.”
His hands made little quotations around the last two words.
He was sure that most of the assembled officers were now worried even more about the Commissars attached to their units. Most officers suspected the Commissars to spy on them and many feared negative reports and repressions from their superiors if the men in black forwarded any unfavorable comments. But not one had given the brutish Ogryns any special consideration beyond their physical presence.
The knowledge of a separate Ogryn communications network would change that quickly.
“Good!” the Colonel clapped his hands and straightened up a bit before continuing.
“Let’s see what we can do to buy the Lord General and the Capital defenders some more time.”
And with an almost evil grin.
“And how we can give those Greenskins a hard time and bash some heads!”
He too made little quotations around his last words.

Captain Xieng
They stood between the two tanks of Captain Xieng and Commissar Yamoto.
“We have approval from Colonel Estara.” He said looking at the assembled officers. “We will use the early morning sun as cover and attack from the ridge here.”
He pointed at his map.
“We will open fire as soon as the Orks are blinded be the sun behind us.”
“They won’t even know what hit them.” Exclaimed a young Lieutenant now in charge of 17 armored vehicles.
“Exactly.” Said Captain Xieng “And as soon as we we’ve spread enough chaos and confusion…”
“We will charge!” interrupted Commissar Yamoto.
“Yes.” Said Xieng with a frown. “We will then cross the ridge, still under cover of the sun and close with the enemy.”
“We will honor the Emperor.” Most of the officers were secretly rolling their eyes as the Commissar started yet again another of his dreaded motivational sermons. “With the blood of the enemy. It is our duty to overrun the Xenos and eradicate them all, or die trying!”
“It is our duty” interrupted Captain Xieng in return “To kill as many Orks as possible and save as much of our men and equipment to fight on tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that!”
He looked first at this commanders and then back to Commissar Yamoto.
“We will not blindly charge into the enemy.” He fixed his eyes on the Commissar. He was rather old to be a simple Commissar in an armored Battalion. He must have some dark spots in his past thought Xieng not for the first time. He had despised the man from the first time he laid eyes on him. Commissars in general were not well appreciated among his men, but Yamoto…
He secretly shivered when he looked into those cold, dark eyes, the pockmarked face and the greying short cropped hair. The Commissar was thin, if not to say gaunt. And while the black uniforms of most Commissars looked menacing, his uniform looked sloppy, loose fitting as it was.
Whatever he may have done in the past, he seemed to be eager to erase any bad spots in his dossier, by driving them crazy with his endless motivational speeches, numerous reports to the High Command, and his demands for draconic punishments for the slightest misdeeds. Captain Xieng was sure that Yamoto would have experienced several mortal accidents already hadn’t it been for his hulking Ogryn bodyguard. Even though Xieng had to admit that he wasn’t always sure if the brute was really a protector or more a watchdog to the Commissar.
“We will however.” Xieng continued “Attack the Greenskins with all our might and ferocity. I have assigned you in groups of 12 tanks, 4 Chimeras, and a Hellhound each.”
He slapped the side of his tank “Commissar Yamoto’s Malcador and my Macharius will be together with the other heavy tanks on the northern part of the attack. All in all we can muster more than 90 vehicles.”
“I have assigned Sergeant Major Tufail” he said looking at the burly tanker “With his group of 8 tanks and 4 Chimeras to the very south. They will try to get behind the Orks and attack them from behind.”
“Sacking and destroying any equipment as we go.” Said the dark skinned Sergeant Major “We will add to the confusion and create havoc, before returning to our lines.”
He too looked at the Commissar “It will be a fast and brutal sweep.” He made a circular motion with his hands “Like a scythe!”
“Hopefully not a blunt one” said the Commissar with a leer.
As soon as Captain Xieng had disclosed his plans with Yamoto it was clear that the Commissar didn’t judge the attack as heroic enough. In his mind they should have attacked immediately and charged right into the middle of the enormous Ork marshalling area.
It would certainly be a heroic attack and would most likely kill many Orks, but it would also be the end of the 3rd Battalion of the 69th Armored Regiment. As far as they knew the Greenskins had very little tanks and vehicles at the start of their invasion, but by now they had looted many tanks and guns from the Imperial units they had fought and defeated and had pressed them into their services. They even painted them red, thinking this would make them faster and more menacing – ridiculous! And their sheer numbers were still overwhelming.
It was incomprehensible to Xieng how so many Orks could have fit into the six ships that crash-landed on the surface.
Luckily Xieng had reviewed his plans with Colonel Estara, currently the highest ranking officer south of the Xanthium defense line. Estara was very supportive of Xieng’s plans and he even designed the attack into the enemies’ rear by Tufail’s group.
Grinding his teeth Commissar Yamoto had accepted the orders, but he missed no opportunity to criticize or belittle the plans.
“Ok” Captain Xieng said “Let’s get back to your assigned groups and get everyone ready.”
He looked at his watch.
“I recon we have about an hour time, before the sun rises over the horizon and will blind the Orks.”
With a nod he said “Dismissed.” And turned to his tank and climbed up the hull.

Dunja Bell
“Are you sure?”
Dunja didn’t know how often Coriano had asked her over the last hours.
“Yes maan, I made my mind up!” The impatience in her voice was clear. “Fight the Orks I must, you know dis well, maan.”
“I know, but for my Sister little, I care alot.” He put his hands on her shoulders “And if you go now, you now da tribe will not like dat.”
As a matter of fact, the tribe would most likely expel her and she would not be able to return to the Scarabs at any time.
Dunja stood at the edge of the cliffs and pointed down at the country below. It was shortly before sunrise, but light enough to show the chaos below. A mass of bodies, fires and smoke covered the landscape. Thousands of Orks occupied the area, resting for the night. But it was clear they would soon be on the move again. Continuing their fight.
Destroying and killing everything and everyone in their way. A flood of destruction.
“Da Big Kahunas decided not to fight. Said da Imps problem it is.”
The Scarabs were an almost nomadic people on Dencara. Organized in tribes they constantly roamed the lands. They harvested ores and precious metals, often from crashed asteroids or meteors. They were a very proud people and usually kept well separate from the Imperial settlements. Only to trade did they connect with the Imperium. And the Imperials had no special amity for the nomads either, as the Scarabs usually didn’t accept Imperial laws and traditions. They were part of the Empire, but never really accepted the Imperial way of living and culture. Keeping their own identity.
Both sides faced each other suspiciously, but grudgingly accepted each other, as they needed each other. Only the Scarabs were adventurous enough to mine the precious ores even in the Incussus Cingulum – the Impact Belt – were an almost constant bombardment with meteors and asteroids made live impossible.
It was a dangerous way of live, but it was profitable and here the Scarabs were their own masters. With their own way of tackling problems and their ingenuity they designed and built mobile mining facilities that was able to harvest large amounts of ore. Other tribes specialized on collecting metals, asteroids and meteors on the surface. Yet others had taken to the underground caves to search and excavate the precious materials. Even though this was often frowned upon by other tribes, as it came very close to the Imperial style of living, where most of the cities were underground, protected from any aerial bombardments.
“But wrong dis is!” She looked into her brothers eyes. “You know as good as I, da monsters don’t look if Imp or us!”
Again she pointed down at the destruction below.
“They already killed Ezra and crew of his. They were in Hobbs to trade only when da Orks come. Slaughtered all and every they did!”
Coriano swallowed hard, he had heard the gruesome stories form the two survivors who made it back to the tribe. On the second day of the invasion, when only a few even knew what was going on, the Orks attacked Castellum Hobbs, a coastal settlement with a busy port on the western coast of Terra Venti. Without warning the Orks rushed down from the Koetting Heights and like a flood they overran the city.
There were only a few survivors who escaped the carnage.
“I want to revenge! Me can’t wait for da Big Kahunas to see mistake of theirs. I must fight!” She pointed to the assault rifle strapped to her back. “With da tribe I not can fight, so to Imps I must go.”
“But they not want you! You now they not like us!” Said Coriano excited.
“I will bring proof of worth mine.” With a devious smile she pointed at the assortments of weapons and blades strapped to her hips, thighs and back. “Every Ork I kill, souvenir I take! Bag will be full when I come there.”
She had taken off her traditional brown overalls of the Scarabs and donned now the standard Imperial baggy pants and long jacket. It had been hard for to take off her overalls. They were a central part of a Scarabs identity and displayed their affiliation with their tribe as well as their experiences and journeys. Covered in symbols, each standing for an important meeting with others, a journey taken, a story told, a test passed, they were a proud symbol of their way of live. Dunja had packed her overall very careful in her backpack, but in all honesty, she did not expect to ever wear it again.
“Like night I will be, strike quiet and fast I will, many Orks I will kill. Fear me they will!”
With these word she thumbed her chest.
Her dark skin shimmered in the pale light, together with the black clothes she wore, she was almost invisible in the dark. Just a silhouette against the faint light on the horizon.
Suddenly she made a step forward and hugged her brother fiercely.
“Live good maan! Watch for Paps and let know him of my way.”
Then she turned around and walked away. After a few steps she vanished in the dark.

Colour Sergeant Gunnarson
The area just in front of the ravine was crowded with Orks!
Gunnarson and Dupree slid back down to the bottom of the ravine.
“They must have passed us during the night, while we were struggling through the ravine.” Said Gunnarson.
“It must be at least 500 of them!” whispered Lance Corporal Dupree.
While the two whispered with each other Officer Cadet Brunnthaler had gotten up, apparently shaking off his stupor, and climbed up to the ravine’s edge.
“Charge!” it started as a whisper, but got louder quickly “We must charge!”
The heads of Dupree and Gunnarson whipped around and with a jump Gunnarson grabbed the Cadet, while Dupree put his hand over Brunnthalers mouth.
Though muffled, Brunnthaler continued “We must charge! Attack at once!”
Why had the officer escaped his catatonic state at this very moment, and why did he have to endanger them with his loud demands? Gunnarson was ready to strangle the young man.
He looked up to the two guards on the ledge.
Both shook their heads and then looked back out at the Orks. Luckily the Orks had not heard them. So far!
“Shut up!” he whispered and added a rather embarrassed “Sir”
“You’re putting us in peril with your upheaval.” Lance Corporal Dupree still had his hand over the Cadets mouth. “If you promise to be silent I will remove my hand. Understand?”
Both looked into his eyes.
Slowly Brunnthaler relaxed, stopped fidgeting in Gunnarson’s arms and finally nodded. Ready to immediately silence him again, Dupree slowly removed his hand from Brunnthalers mouth.
“Are you OK, Sir?” asked Gunnerson, releasing the officer.
The young man rubbed his face with his hands and then looked at the two NCO’s.
“I…I think so, yes” He looked around at the rag-tag assembly of men in the ravine “What happened, how did we get here?”
Apparently Brunnthaler didn’t recall the events of the night that let them here.
“How much do you remember, Sir?” asked Gunnarson “Do you remember the ambush south of the cross-roads?”
When he saw the flicker of panic in the young man’s eyes he was sure he’d start to scream again and got ready to silence him immediately, but Brunnthaler nodded slowly.
“Yes, they attacked us.” He swallowed “Then this huge Ork jumped at us.”
His eyes seemed to lose focus as he remembered.
“And then everyone was dead!” He started to panic again “We’re all dead! The Orks killed all!”
Gunnarson grabbed him by both shoulders and shook him.
“No! No Sir, we’re not dead!” still whispering he tried to bring him to terms “We fought them, and despite losing many men, we survived. We killed them all!”
Brunnthaler looked up. His eyes jumping from one to the other of Gunnarsons eyes, just as if trying to catch the lie.
“We survived?”
“Yes Sir.” He said in a quiet voice “We fought back with the flame throwers and everything we had. We repelled them and then they were all dead.”
“It was a carnage!” added Lance Corporal Dupree.
“We have about 50 survivors and some heavy weapons left. We decided to use this ravine to move east and then through the canyon to get back to our lines.”
Not sure if Brunnthaler understood anything, Gunnarson continued. “We moved all night and are now at the mouth of the canyon. But somehow we’re facing this new group of Orks now.”
Before Brunnthaler could chime in he whispered “They have a tenfold advantage over us.”
“We’re dead! We will never make it!”
He shushed the officer and Dupree added “Well, we lost communications during the ambush. But Greenberg and Sellings here.” He pointed at two communication specialists huddled over a heap of equipment “They seem to be magicians and they are sure they have fixed the radio and can try to communicate back with headquarters.”
Gunnarson perked up “Oh this is great!” He looked at Brunnthaler again “Sir, please let me try to contact HQ and see how we can get out of this.”
The officer cadet nodded.

Colonel Estara
Lieutenant Kiruban put her headphones to the side and walked up to Colonel Estara.
“Sir, we have made contact with the 11th.” When Estara perked up she added “Or what’s let of them.”
Estara quickly got up from the cot he used in the command tent to get at least a bit of sleep.
“Can we talk to them?”
“Yes, I put them on speaker and patch you through.”
She gave a sign to the communications specialist. After a short period of hissing on the speakers a voice came through.
“Echo-Six-Six, this is One-One-Alpha, over”
“One-One-Alpha, this is Echo-Six-Six, we have some static, but we can hear you. What’s your status over?”
The command tent got really quiet and almost all present looked up at the speakers.
“We’re down to 50 men, over”
A gasp of shock was audible through the tent. The 11th Infantry Regiment originally consisted of more than 2.500 men.
“What happened, over?”
While Colour Sergeant Gunnarson recounted the ambush and the defense, as well as the nightly march through the ravine the silence in the command post was complete.
“You have been very brave” said Colonel Estara once Gunnarson finished “What is your exact location?”
Estara, Kiruban and many offers looked at the plotting table as Gunnarson gave the coordinates.
“One-One-Alpha, this is good news, over”
But before Estara could continue the radio squawked again.
“Echo-Six-Six, we have our recon skull connected to the console, maybe you want to look at the images of the situation, over”
Estara nodded to the technicians, and a live video feed replaced the map on the plotting table.
“Holy Emperor!” exclaimed Lieutenant Kiruban “it must be hundreds!”
The image transmitted by the recon skull showed the Ork lager with the silhouettes of sleeping bodies littering the ground.
“Echo-Six-Six, we counted about 500 Orks, over.”
“From there they can attack Serena City or enter Faichem Canyon.”
Everyone was aware that Faichem Canyon was a direct route to either the Xanth Starport or even up north to Xanthium.
“One-One-Alpha, they must be stopped, over!”
After a short pause a laconic “Affirmative, sir” was heard, before it continued “We are down to 50 men, 6 of which are walking wounded, they can defend themselves, but not actively fight. We have 3 heavy bolters, a stubber and two flamethrowers…Any units you can send to assist Sir?”
Colonel Estara looked at the video feed and the sleeping Orks. He considered the imminent attack of the 3/69th.
But no!
That attack was just too promising and they would definitely cause great damage to the forces just south of his position. It would be foolish to stop that attack and detour the forces south.
This was not an option.
He looked at the roster of available forces and radioed back
“One-One-Alpha, this is Echo-Six-Six, unfortunately we have no forces we can send to you. Over.”
“Understood Sir” and after a short period of hissing “Anything that could help us? We’re really in a tough postition, Sir.”
Estara was torn by his feelings. He wanted to help those brave soldiers out there. But his options were slim to say at least.
He squinted his eyes, looking at the roster again, then nodded to himself and replied
“How about some Artillery?”

Captain Xieng
Captain Xieng looked over his shoulder to the horizon. The sun was rising and the first rays of light were creeping over the ground. He tapped his headset and spoke into the microphone.
“Start your engines.”
The engines of over 90 vehicles came to live. They positioned them only a few minutes ago directly below the ridge and Xieng had ordered the drivers to re-start the engines without the typical revving and roar. Even though the Orks now had no chance of escaping, he didn’t want to give their presence away.
Another look over the shoulder. He had to squint his eyes, as the top quarter of the sun had now risen beyond the horizon blinding him.
“Drivers! Move out!”
In a well-rehearsed maneuver the tanks moved up the ridge, exposing the turrets and guns.
As soon as the tanks were in position Xieng yelled into the microphone
“FIRE!”
Along a front of 2 kilometers battle-canons, laser-guns and bolters opened fire. He had ordered the commanders to target the enemy’s vehicles first. Initially the Orks had no vehicles or heavy weapons, but they overwhelmed the first units by sheer numbers and captured many vehicles.
Looted as they called it. The Orks had even painted several of the tanks in red, adhering to their superstition “Red is Faster”.
Xiang snorted at that thought.
The noise was deafening. The cacophony of sound, smoke and light was almost unbearable, and Xieng considered moving into the turret and closing his hatch. But he wanted to keep an eye on the situation and progress. After the first kill his main gunner Colour Sergeant Jin had already switched targets and engaged the next enemy vehicle.
Raising his binoculars Captain Xieng watched the battle unfold in front of him. Well, it wasn’t a battle yet. The Orks didn’t know what happened to them. Blinded by the light they couldn’t see the tanks hidden behind the ridge. They only heard the sound of gunfire and experienced the numerous explosions of their vehicles.
Many Orks had still been sleeping, others were just getting up, but only a few were more or less battle ready.
The Orks lager wasn’t as organized as an Imperial marshalling area would’ve been, and so the vehicles were scattered all over. Several gunners had no longer any vehicular targets in their sector and the loaders switched to explosive ammunition.
“Up!” barked Sergeant Yeo, the primary loader of his Macharius tank.
The turret twitched a bit to the left and the next shot went out. The recoil shook the tank, the muzzle flash momentarily blinding Xieng, and the blast raising dust. The spent cartridge flew out of the loaders hatch.
“Target, Infantry, 1500, HE!” yelled Jin, and Yeo slammed the round into the breach and closed it.
“Up!” he yelled stepping to the side. The shot rang out.
The same happened all over the battle line, shot after shot went out, explosion after explosion slammed into the enemy.
Soon he would give the order to move out and start the second phase of the attack. Xieng and his heavy tanks were at the northern edge of the attack line. The lighter tank groups positioned in packs of 17 vehicles distributed south, following the line of the gully they used as cover.
“Corporal Zhang, get ready” he addressed the driver using the internal channel. Once the driver acknowledged Xiang switched to the Battalion channel again.
“All! Ready to maneuver. On my command!”
This was now a very crucial moment. So far they were stopped behind cover, with the additional bonus of the sun in their back, blinding the Orks. But now they would move. Starting an all-out attack. They had often rehearsed group moves in maneuvers, but this was the real thing.
The commanders of the packs had to ensure the groups stayed together, not impeding the other groups and keep their position in the formation.
“ATTACK!” the order rang through the headphones.
Engines roared, exhaust smoke plumed up and the vehicles shot forward. Some drivers were overexcited and their vehicles literally jumped out of cover, crashing back down and racing forward.
“Keep firing!” ordered Xieng as the vehicles moved on.
Now all weapons of the vehicles could come to bear. The bow and sponson mounted guns got into the fray.
It was a mad ride! The vehicles rumbling over the uneven ground, Xieng finally slipped down into the turret, closing his hatch as more and more dust and smoke rose up. He had to brace himself against the violently swaying vehicle. The next shot of the main gun rocked the turret.
He was thankful for his helmet as he bumped into the rim of his turret. Adjusting his seat to the proper height he began to scan the battlefield through his sights. It was crucial that he kept track of the enveloping actions.
Shrouded in dust and smoke the formation moved across the plains. The Orks began to rally and the first reply shots were fired. Far to the south he could see a tank ripped apart by an explosion.
“Damn!” he whispered to himself.
They had started the battle at a distance of almost 3 kilometers, but their mad charge was closing the gap fast and he had to ensure the next phase of the attack was executed in time.
“Ready for the first swing north!”
The plan was for the entire formation to change course north and drive a full circle, that would keep them out of direct contact with the Orks, but upon completing the circle they would engage the Orks again, and hopefully repeat this maneuver at least one more time, before disengaging and returning to their lines.
Before he could give the order the intercom sounded “CHARGE!”
Yamoto!
“For the Emperor!” continued the Commissar.
Xiang slammed his fist into the turret rim.
“Stick to your orders!” he yelled into his microphone, then he switched to the internal comms “Sergeant Misu, can you block Yamato?” he asked his Communications Operator, sitting in the bow of his tank.
“Yes Sir, the Commissars channel is now blocked, he can only talk to himself!” he replied with a grin.
Momentarily put off balance as the tank rumbled over a rock, he put his hand out for support and switched back to the command channel.
“Maneuver elements, turn north, NOW!” the tanks of his heavy group drove straight ahead – as planned.
The individual packs of tanks turned north and began executing a wide circle. The guns remained trained at the enemy, and the bow and sponson weapons kept on firing as long as possible.
As far as Xiang could see his units were executing his plan flawlessly.
“Heavies, lets fan out and see if we can’t drive some Greenskins into the gorge!” he yelled upon switching to the groups separate communications channel. Looking through his sights he saw Commissar Yamoto sticking his torso out of the Malcador’s hatch and waving his signal flag. He had realized his radio wasn’t transmitting any longer to the group. The Commissar was frantically waving the “Attack” flag at the group.
“This idiot is just not getting it!” Xiang muttered, making sure his microphone was switched off. Despite the surprise and initial success of the attack, Xiang was well aware that his armored group was way too small and weak to get into a direct fight with the Orks. They had to stay out of range, had to keep moving and out-maneuver the enemy. Only then did they have a chance to inflict heavy damage at the enemy and remain alive to fight another day.
But apparently this was beyond the Commissars brain capacities!
Captain Xiang checked the battlefield again and confirmed the maneuver elements were executing their circular sweep, keeping out of direct contact with the Orks, but keeping them under fire all the time.
At the same time he and his heavies were now forming a line formation, attempting to drive the Orks further north. Here a deep lava-filled ravine cut the plains and marked the border of their attack area.
“CHARGE!” apparently Yamoto and his crew had managed to overcome the jamming of their radio.
Xiang had to do something about this idiot!
“Get us closer to Yamoto” he said to the driver, Corporal Zhang.
“Yamoto, you’re too close to the ravine! Watch out” he yelled, now switching to the open Battalion channel. Sergeant Jin looked surprised. Through his sights he could see that Yamoto’s Malcador tank was driving at a safe distance to the ravine.
“Concentrate on the Orks!” Xiang said, realizing the gunners stare.
“Sergeant Suren, I need you to leave your station.” The gunner in the right sponson looked surprised, but left his seat immediately.
“YAMOTO! You are too close!” Captain Xiang yelled again, at the same time signaling to Zhang to move further right, closer to the Commissars tank.
Both tanks were now driving at full speed, rocking and swaying wildly on the plains. A large cloud of dust rising behind them. They were obscured from the rest of the heavies as well as the other maneuver elements.
“Steer south!” he yelled into the open channel and then switching back to internal “Brace for impact!”
The crew looked dumbfounded.
“Zhang! Hard right NOW!”
The crash was louder than Xiang had expected it. Metal screamed. If he hadn’t braced himself against the console he would’ve smashed his skull. The momentum of the drive kept pushing them forward. Sergeant Suren, who had left his standard battle position had to stuggle hard not to crash into the gunner’s seat, behind which he stood. But looking at his former position, he was glad he had moved.
“Full throttle!” the engine protested as Zhang pushed it to the limits. Like a fighting bull the tank was plowing into the side of the other tank. Still driving at full speed Yamoto’s driver was unable to negotiate the pressure and his tank veered to the north, straight at the ravine.
“You are going to drop! Stop, stop, stop!” Captain Xiang yelled, switching to the open channel again. At the same time he frantically waved to the driver to continue the push.
Regardless of what the crew thought, there was no way back now!
They had to finish what they started.
Obscured from sight, the rest of the Battalion only heard what Xiang yelled via the open channel and had to believe that the Commissar was so lost in this cause, charging the Orks that he lost control and was now dropping into the ravine.
As soon as Zhang felt the other tank slipping he yanked his controls back, steering away and breaking as hard as he could.
Xiang was hoping the push had been strong enough.
He popped his hatch open and emerged from his turret. Through the dust he could clearly see the Commissars tank, lying on its back, sliding down the ravine into the lava.
“You stay inside!” he said to his crew as he climbed off the tank.
He drew the pistol from its holster and carefully moved to the edge of the ravine. The tank sank deeper and deeper, its metal turning red and then hot white.
No one was getting out.
He waited until the tank vanished in its entirety. Then the holstered his pistol and climbed back up the tank.
He suppressed a grin as he climbed back inside.
“We have lost Commissar Yamoto!” he spoke in a toneless voice into the microphone.

Trader Strohmaier
He wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was narrow and cramped in the cabin, but it was the largest cabin on the airship. He had forced the captain to throw out the family that had already occupied the cabin. Strohmaier wasn’t sure if the family was on the airship of left behind. He didn’t care. He just had to leave Marsitas City.
The Ork invasion had thrown a huge wrench into his operations. Trading on Dencara would be suspended for a long time. Surely, he could make an enormous profit now, when clothes and edibles were needed by the refugees, but in the long run it was too dangerous. He had set up some of his most trustworthy agents to remain in Marsitas and run shop as long as possible. They should sell whatever stocks he hadn’t moved yet. This way he could minimize losses.
In the meantime he had to prepare his escape.
Dencara V. was a small planet in an insignificant solar system, but if you were ruthless enough you could become filthy rich.
Trader Strohmaier was both.
And he was proud of it. Born into a reputable merchant family in the Dencara system, he had grown up sheltered from the burdens of the lower classes in Xanthium. But he had always realized there were others more powerful which could bully him around. He had sworn early on that he would use whatever means necessary to establish a power base for himself protecting him from most outside interference. Already as a teenager he became ruthless and used blackmail or the physical help of a several paid bullies to ensure the cooperation of others.
With a few shady credit transactions he gained influence into some of the noble houses, which in return gave him many trading advantages that other merchants could only dream of. As soon as he inherited the family business he ramped up his operations.
He wasn’t shy with whom to trade. He had no moral obligations whatsoever. He traded with Scarabs and the Dencara noble houses, but also with many other systems, bypassing official channels and trade routes. He traded almost anything. Slaves, precious ores, weapons, food – nothing was excluded. Now it was him to bully others around.
Again resorting to blackmail, shady credits, and physical violence he displaced most of the smaller merchants. He even managed to be the only trader in Marsitas City. Making him one of the most hatred men there, but also the most powerful. Even more powerful than the city magistrate. His exclusive trading position allowed him to dictate prices and availability. It gave him a unique position of power.
His palace on top of the hills, towering over Marsitas City was an unmistakable icon of power and aplomb.
But the loss of Castellum Hobbs and the news of the war he received told him it was time to pack up and head for safer waters. Apparently the units assigned to protect the pass into the Caledonians had been defeated and the local Militia was preparing demolition charges to block the passage to the city. Strohmaier was unconvinced that these feeble efforts could stop or even slow down the Ork attackers.
The “Timasevich” was the last airship leaving Marsitas City. It left in the middle of the night and was heading straight for Xanth Starport. It was a pretty small airship and susceptible to the turbulent updrafts of the lava streams. Instead of flying in a straight line it had to follow the coast and fly in a wide arc north-east.
His own trading vessels had already been confiscated by the Governor while they were in Xanth Starport. A clear sign that times were changing.
But in Marsitas City he still had enough power to ensure a passage on the Timasevich and that the cargo hold was filled with his crates. Officially they contained scrap metal and other worthless goods, but they were filled with his personal stash – gold, diamonds, stocks and bonds. He had to leave many of his blackmail arguments behind, but the most effective or valuable ones were with him.
One of his interstellar ships, the “Insatiable”, was in transit to the system. She would arrive tomorrow. He had detoured her to Dencara VI, the agricultural world, where she would avoid confiscation. Strohmaier had also secured the help of a smuggler, which would await him in Xanth Starport to break the blockade and run him to Dencara VI.
For an impertinent fee!
Sweating profusely he sank onto the cot. He wasn’t made for physical exertions. He never needed to. He always had the assistance of others to do take care of these aspects of his live. Strohmaier had always been large and heavy set, but over the years he had become overweight. Most people called him fat behind his back, but no one dared to say this to his face. However there was no denying, with 175 Centimeters height and a weight of 190 Kilograms it was clear that he was fat.
He had shed his usual brilliant and colorful clothes and donned the black frock of a travel friar, but he knew this masquerade wasn’t very convincing.
In Marsitas Citiy it didn’t matter. Nobody would take a chance at trying to stop him. But the less people knew about his whereabouts the better. And once in Xanth Starport he planned to vanish immediately.
No need to call the authorities attention to his arrival. It would be prudent to have no pursuer or observers when arriving at his meeting point with the smuggler.
He still had a few hours before arriving and he hoped he could get some sleep during the passage. Strohmaier had paid the captain more than enough money to ensure an undisturbed sojourn.

These are entertaining.

Thank you Mate

On we go with another actor (probably the last main character)


Colonel Jacka
Colonel Estara had just ended his call with Gunnarson when the flap of the command tent was opened again. A huge Ogryn stepped in and held the flap open. The Ogryn wore Master Sergeant Stripes and was armed with a Ripper Gun, Grenades and adorned in Sherwood Green Flack Armor. He looked closely at all in the tent, then turned and nodded behind to those that followed. Commissar Sontoya’s bodyguard Hans stepped forward growling at the unknown Ogryn and Estara saw several attendees reaching for their holsters.
A group of Officers entered the tent. They all looked unfamiliar and their uniforms looked strange. They were without the typical Dencara camouflage pattern and some pieces looked as if they were repainted to fit into the orange-brown Dencara landscape.
“Greetings Sir!” said the leading officer, saluting to Estara. “Sorry to interrupt your briefing.” He looked around at the defensive posture of some attendants.
“I’m Colonel Mathew Jacka of the Orphan Brigade and these officers”, Indicating to the others with him “Are from my 12th Cadian Mech Regt.”
“The who?!” asked Estara surprised “Cadian?”
“Ah, yes indeed, but we are not all Cadian.” replied Jacka with a smile. “We are been here on this lovely planet of yours for about two months now, as part of a PDF exchange program.”
Estara raised an eyebrow
“PDF exchange program? With Cadia?” he looked around at his staff. “You ever heard of anything like this?” When he saw only shacking heads he turned around.
“It’s the first time forces of your planet participated in the program.” Jacka continued, “Your 1st Infantry Regiment is currently on Cadia and we…” He pointed at his entourage “are part of my Orphan Brigade we here training with your 8th Armored near Port Styria on Orso when the gak hit the fan.”
“Your Lord General Rees has ordered the 8th to remain on Orso and guard Port Styria.” He continued “But since he has no direct authority over my forces, we decided to move to Cochran and relocate our units to Hermiz at the foot of the Daharr Range.”
Estara looked at the map and with a crooked smile he looked back up “What forces are we talking about?”
“I knew you would appreciate the news Colonel.” Said Colonel Jacka with a wide grin “I have parts of my HQ, my Red Company with Recon Scouts, and Black Company plus a Company of the Tayhosian Mobile Infantry, together with a few Thud guns from the 16th Cadian Artillery Regt.”
“We had to leave some heavy equipment on our Fleet which is currently in orbit. That said I have four Valkyrie’s, a Vulture, and about 50 Chimera’s, 500 Troopers in total, mainly, Recon, Mech, some Airborne and Artillery.“
Lieutenant Kiruban let out a short whistle.
Jacka grinned and continued “We are well accustomed to your climate and landscape. We’re also eager to help. My Officers”, Jacka said indicting the others with him. “LT Col Stewart Conner.” pointing at a Squat, “CO of the 12th Cadian and the 2IC of the Orphans.” The Squat bowed.
“My Lord Commissar Nugen Wu.“ A slight nod from oriental Officer as Jacka continued “Lt Aron Jenks my Adjutant and Senior Vox Operator"
He's not Cadian, a Carolonian thought Estara, his memories of General Hunter still fresh in his mind even though the Black Crusade was some time ago.
Jacka continued, “OC of Black Company and my wife Maj Sarah Jacka,” Estara noted the red haired woman before him and returned her salute.
“ Lt Col Kilby Smith CO of the Carolonian Tayhosian Mobile Infantry and lastly Sergeant Andersson, 5th Squad 33rd Tulean Mech Army Cav and OC of the Red Company Recon.”
Estara looked at the group before him, odd but welcome,
“Well let’s have a look at where you and your Troopers can be of assistance!”
The Ogryn snorted, “Brew boss?”

The Orphan Brigade. Did you come up with that? I love it and want to,steal it haha

Righteousrob wrote:
The Orphan Brigade. Did you come up with that? I love it and want to,steal it haha

Thanks Mate
But the idea of the Orphan Brigade is not mine. It belongs to Colonel Jacka over at Warseer - http://www.warseer.com/forums/showthread.php?237913-12TH-CADIAN-MECH-REGT-(Abhuman-heavy!) .
He's a good chap and his models are really great, so I decided to make his units part of the story

Speaking of the story:
Here's the start of Chapter II.
More from Captain Xieng and Sergeant Major Tufail.
enjoy

Chapter II
Captain Xieng
“Sir, we have to move” said Sergeant Misu, the Vox Operator as soon as Xieng had finished his message to the unit.
While the Captain was outside the tank to ensure no survivors would climb out of Yamoto’s tank the rest of the heavy group had stopped and formed a defensive parameter around him.
And it became quite necessary as the Orks had realized they stopped and in return started a charge at them.
“Heavies, head east, turrets on enemy” Captain Xieng spoke into his microphone while checking the rest of the battlefield.
The other groups had completed their sweep north and now continued their circular movement towards the east. This maneuver would give them back some distance to the Orks.
“Keep them at arm’s length while we regroup”
If they timed it right…
The heavy tanks were considerably slower than the Leman tanks and APC’s and the maneuver would be out of synch with the others. Xiang’s group had turned around and now rumbled with a speed of 20 km/h across the plains. They kept their guns trained at the onrushing Orks and held a bloody harvest. But the Greenskins kept on coming!
Out of the throng of bodies’ new shapes emerged.
Bright red.
Adventurous constructs, assembled from whatever the Orks could find. A forgiving mind could call them motorcycles - when in a good mood. But regardless of what they were, they were fast. And closing the gap fast.
The tanks big guns started to miss, the explosions ripping the ground behind the speeding machines.
“They are too fast! Unbutton and man the Stormbolters!” ordered Xieng already opening his own hatch and climbing up.
He grabbed the Stormbolter, swung it around to aim at the Orks and cocked it. As soon as he chambered the first round he squeezed the trigger and the first burst of rounds fired off.
Besides him Sergeant Suren, whose Bolter station was inoperable after the crash with Yamoto’s tank, manned the second Stormbolter and opened fire too.
Their first burst were falling short and they adjusted their aim.
The next bullets hit the mark.
Orks fell off their contraptions, others lost control and swerved off course.
Xieng looked south, observing the other groups. They had now completed their eastern swing and headed south, bringing some of their sponson mounted guns to bear again.
“Head south!” he yelled into his microphone.
One after the other the heavy tanks altered their course and their hulls pointed to the south.
This maneuver would increase the distance to the lava ravine, and hopefully lure some of the Orks to continue their mad rush.
If they just timed it right…
But they had to eliminate the fast moving machines first. The alternation of course got them closer, as they could maneuver faster and simply cut across.
All the Stormbolters were now firing. Spitting out a hail of bullets.
But the Orks were close enough to return fire. Their sluggas and shootas had a shorter range and were a lot less accurate, but the Orks didn’t care.
And naturally the first stray round hit its mark and the commander of one of the Malcador tanks screamed, slipping back into the turret.
This would be a close fight!
To his right he saw that one of the machines had closed the distance and the passenger jumped off and climbed one of the thanks.
At full speed!
It was a massive Ork, armed with a power claw and a gun slung across his back. He climbed up the tank. The loader of the tank swung his Bolter around, but before he could open fire the Ork slashed out with the claw and killed him instantly. Blood spraying the top of the tank.
As the dead body fell back into the turret the gunner inside realized what was going on and rotated the turret wildly around.
The barrel of the canon hit the Ork and before he could get a steady hold he was knocked off the tank. Xieng couldn’t see what happened to him. He vanished in a cloud of dust.
But on the other side of the tank two more Orks managed to climb the deck. The first reached the open hatch and threw a grenade into the turret.
Smoke erupted from the turret and the tank jerked to a stop.
The Ork yelled defiantly shaking his fists at them. The second Ork grabbed the tank’s Stormbolter and swung it around aiming at Xieng and his tank.
Heart pounding Xieng adjusted his aim and fired.
He kept his trigger squeezed and sprayed the tank with bullets. He didn’t stop till the chamber was empty and the bolt hit home.
Only now did he realize that he had been yelling at the top of his lungs.
His tank rumbled on, leaving the now burning Macharius and the dead Orks behind. With shaking hands he opened the ammo feed and removed the empty ammo box.
Only a few machines were still following them and the tank crews could concentrate their fire. Within seconds the Orks were finished off.
That had been close.
They lost only one heavy tank and had killed a lot of Orks, but it was just a little sting in the Orks’ side. To really make this count, they had to continue killing Orks.
Many Orks.
To the south the other groups finished their circle and were now heading back. Straight at the enemy. Still blinded by the rising sun the Orks didn’t realize the change of course and were surprised when the tanks drove at them. Guns blazing.



Sergeant Major Tufail
Sergeant Major Tufail pressed the headphones to his ears. The Battalion had started its attack!
He followed the orders by Captain Xieng and the excited chatter of the crews. He looked at his watch. A few more minutes.
They were the furthest down south and he had no direct vision of the battlefield, but several Servitor Skulls operated along the line of skirmish and updated the data screen in front of him. The enemy was a mass of red dots. So many that it looked like a solid red zone. The attacking units of the 3/69th symbolized by green dots were moving closer to the enemy.
Despite the distance Tufail could hear the sound of battle. The distant rumble of explosions.
As the green symbols had covered about half the distance he monitored the quarrel between Xieng and Yamoto. Perturbed about this additional hitch he raised the microphone to his mouth.
“Start the engines!”
While the green symbols on the data display started their movement north, he could see that the enemy forces in front of his position moved also.
Xieng had foreseen it properly. The Orks now exposed their rear to them.
His hard was racing and he had a funny taste in his mouth. This was going to be it! The moment they had trained for, but never expected to really happen. The Empire of mankind was in a constant state of war across all the galaxies and fought on many fronts against countless enemies, but here in this nondescript, remote system the prospect of war had never been a real consideration. Even for the members of the Planetary Defense Forces of the Imperial Guard. But for this strange combination of events that lead to the Ork invasion they were now facing imminent battle.
Sergeant Major Tufail was wondering how many of his 12 vehicles and 60 men would still be alive at the end of today. A cough by his gunner brought him back to the here and now.
“Move out!” he said into the microphone “Follow my lead.”
The tank lurched forward and steadily picked up pace. The Leman Russ was more agile than the heavy Macharius tanks and could reach a speed of almost 30 km/h on the flat plains. But the accompanying Chimera APC’s were almost twice as fast and had to hold back to keep formation. The Chimeras could normally hold up to 12 guardsmen, but for this mission they had only a few aboard. One Chimera was packed with scanners and jamming equipment to keep the formation cloaked as long as possible while collecting as much information of the enemy as possible.
All 12 vehicles of Tufail’s group were equipped with Dozer Blades.
The data display showed the altered courses of the attack groups up north as well as the growing separation of the enemy from a group of red dots right in front of him. Tufail wondered what they would find. Did the Orks have cooks and field kitchens?
He was still standing in his open hatch, despite the increasing dust raised by his vehicles. He preferred to fight with open hatches and keep a better overview. But this had only been manoeuvers and training fights so far. Today there would be real bullets.
A small rise directly in front blocked the view to the enemy, but now they left the cover of another hill that had blocked their view north, and he could finally see the dust and smoke of the battle.
It was too far away for any details. The flashes of the explosions and red glow of fires were building a sharp contrast to the bright light of the sun in their backs and the long dark shadows they cast.
As the tanks started to round the rise he cocked the Stormbolter in front of him. Sergeant Tufail looked around and was pleased to see that all Commanders had their hatches open and manned their Stormbolters.
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding fast and loud.
They rounded the little hill.
There they were!
Immediately the tanks and APC’s opened fire.
They crashed into the surprised enemy.
With their dozer blades the vehicles plowed through the camp. Yelling at the top of his lungs Tufail kept the Stormbolter firing. Spraying bullets left and right.
The vehicles cut through the Orks like a scythe. The surprise was so complete, the Orks didn’t even have a chance to fire.
As the first box of ammunition ran out, Sergeant Major Tufail took a breather and looked around while reloading. The tank kept on firing.
Apparently they had ambushed some kind of workshop. Heavy equipment and half-completed machines were strewn around. All kinds of tools and metal pieces were visible. A later examination of the gathered data would probably reveal what the Greenskins were stitching together, but to Tufail it looked like some kind of ramp or launching mechanism.
It didn’t matter.
They would ensure that none of it ever became operational. He guided his tank to run over a large heap of metal and crush it.
He couldn’t see any surviving Orks, so they concentrated on destroying equipment. They drove twice around the workshop, blowing everything to pieces and setting the rest on fire.
“Regroup and back to the assembly point” he ordered.
One after the other the vehicles disengaged and drove back east.

Deleted for re-write below

I'm removing this bit, providing a re-write below.
Thanks for the feedback

So I have enjoyed your stuff but your Ork is written like an Imperial Guard thinks of an Ork. Stupid and slow. I prefer the Ork to be written like a slightly stupid person with a very crazy accent, not like they are talking in third person. Not sure, I loved your human stuff and would stick to it or change it.

Thank you Righteousbob!
This is very valuable.
Apparently I didn't get the first-preson aspect of the Ork across.
Never intended to have him look stupid and slow - quite the contrary.
On the other hand side I don't like Orks acting like drunken humans speaking stupid stuff. I doesn't give them credit.

So here's a revised version in first-person and present-time.
I hope this works better
Again. thanks for the feedback.

Grimgork
Wind is loud. I, Grimgork am in the air. Flying fast, fast, fast. This is fun. I look to side and see many more Orks. Good Orks.
We’re flying through air fast, fast, fast. Grimgork and other Orks will attack humans from the air. Good plan.
Grimgork will strike and kill humans. Many humans. I can count to ten, but I will kill many more than ten. I am good Ork. Am good killer. Grimgork smiles showing teeth. Killing Teeth.
Wind is loud in ears, but machine on back is louder. Is not good rokkit Grimgork flew many, many times before. Orks have no rokkit this time. Not here. Grimgork does not know why they are here. Ork plan was for big war on human planet with Boss Ma’Kakaah, but navigashun was wrong. Ork on control was wrong. Stupid Ork! Is dead now.
Flew wrong way and came here then. Not many ships, but humans blasted some ships. Foolish humans. Seven ships landed and many, many Orks are now here. Boss Shucktuck sayz Gork and Mork told to make new Waaagh and kill humans here. Good plan!
But with ships many things destroyed. Have no tanks, have no trucks, have no rokkits. Stupid.
Had to fight with Shoota and Slugga. But Grimgork and others are good Orks. Killing many, many humans. Grimgork is good killer.
Looted many, many things from humans. Things to build new Ork weapons. Mek Cutnweld is good Ork, has many, many ideas. Ideas for killing humans. I love killing humans. Grimgork smiles showing teeth. Killing Teeth.
Cutnweld had idea for Sormboyz. Make them fly through air again. Is not rokkit, but is rokkit. Is new thing. Mek showed on Gretchin first. Shooting Gretchin with new rokkit on back from launcha. Flying fast, fast, fast. Gretchin lost control and smashed to ground. Stupid Gretchin. But Stormboy tried next and was shooting high in air. Flying fast, fast, fast. Shouting “’ere we go!” Good Ork.
Now all the boyz have new rokkit that is not rokkit on back. Flying fast, fast, fast.
Sun is coming up, making things all bright. I look around around. Have good plan. Boyz will fly to sun, find humans there on ground and then fly down. Will surprise humans and attack quick, quick, quick. Killing many humans. Grimgork likes killing humans. Is good killer.
Today I will kill many, many humans. More than ten.
I see something in the air.
Is human ship. Ship flying in air.
Grimgork signales the boyz and points at ship flying in air. Other Orks understand and nod.
“’ere we go!”
Are good Orks. Grimgork smiles showing teeth. Killing Teeth.
Da Mek was good Mek, had good ideas; many, many. Like killing claws for Grimgork. Is not like powa Klaw, has no motor. Is like three knifes on knuckles. Grimgork can still use hand and grab Axe or Slugga, but sharp killing klaw is extra weapon. Weapon for killing humans. Cutnweld was good Ork, was good Mek.
Grimgork nods, but wind cut in eyes. Am flying fast, much wind in face. Have no goggles, now wind is in eyes, making eyes wet. Stupid wind! When crashing on planet had lost much equipment. Stupid crash!
But even with eyes wet I can see ship flying in air. Moving arms a bit I fly in direction of ship flying in air. Orks will come from above and land on ship quick, quick, quick. Then we will fight, killing humans. Grimgork likes killing humans. Am good killer.
Close now!
Adjusting rokkit that is not rokkit I become slower. Matching speed of ship flying in air. Look around. Other Boyz there.
Grimgork roares. Loud scream!
We all drop down on ship. One Ork screams, missing ship and falling down. Rokkit that is not rokkit not on. Falling fast, fast, fast. Stupid Ork.
Grimgork boots with toes covered in steel land with a loud thump. Making dent in deck. Grimgork can hear screams. Human screams. I look around and see Orks firing at humans. Humans running away screaming. Grimgork laughs showing teeth. Killing teeth.
I see a human coming around corner with gun. Human raising gun and fire at Grimgork. Bullet hit Grimgork. But I am big Ork with thick skin. Bullet hurt, but not wound. Grimgork screams at human.
Human keeps firing at me. Grimgork raises axe. Big axe. I love big axe. One step, two step, quick, quick, quick. Am at human still firing gun. Grimgork raises axe.
With loud roar I slash down.
Blood!
Lots of blood. Splashing around. Axe deep in human. Human no longer firing. Human falling to floor. I smile showing teeth. Killing teeth.
Will come back later and get souvenir, have to fight more humans now. Step around corner.
More humans there, with guns. Firing at other boyz. See Ork on ground. Many holes in chest, is dead. Stupid Ork.
Grimgork grabs shoota at hip and raise it. Firing bullets. Many, many bullets. Hitting humans. Bam, bam, bam!
Much more blood now. Human blood.
All humans now dead on ground and boyz running forward. Jumping over dead through door of ship flying in air. I walk to other door. Boots with toes covered in steel making loud sound on deck. Thump, thump, thump.
Open door and step inside. Tunnel in ship flying in air is dark. No human in sight. Many, many doors. Humans are hiding behind doors. Stupid humans!
Shoota in hand Grimgork tries first door. Is closed shut. I snort, shaking head. Locking door will not help. I step back and raise foot. Boot with toes covered in steel crashes into door with loud bang and door flies open.
See three humans hiding in corner arms over head. Stupid humans!
I fire shoota. Bam, bam, bam!
Every bullet hitting mark. Much, much blood. Humans dead. Grimgork likes killing humans. Am good killer.
Grimgork goes to next door. Is not locked. Good.
Open door, but room is empty. No humans inside. I snort.
I walk down tunnel to next door. Grimgork wonders why humans built so many rooms in ship flying in air. So many doors and only room for 2, 3 humans. Waste of space Grimgork thinks. And much work for Grimgork.
Walk up next door. Locked again. Kick door with boots with toes covered in steel. Door crashes open. Loud screams inside. Many humans here. One comes running at me with sword in hand. Screaming loud.
I am surprised. Humans never run at me!
Human slash down on my arm with Shoota. Hurt much. Ouch!
Shoota falls to ground but I still have killing claws on knuckles. With backhand blow I cut deep in human body throwing it aside. Human crashes into wall, sliding down. Lots of blood on wall. I smile showing teeth. Killing teeth.
Humans now screaming louder. Stupid humans.
With a roar Grimgork uses axe. A wide swing with the axe. Hitting humans. Many humans. One swing, two swing. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh! All humans dead.
I roar.
Grimgork no longer green, everything red. Will Grimgork now be fasta?
I laugh.
One last door at end of tunnel in ship flying in air. I try to open, but locked again. Grimgork snorts and kicks in door.
Room is big and dark.
Only one human here.
Is fat man. Clothes all black.
Human raises hands at Grimgork. Asking for merci. Foolish human. Grimgork never mild. Always kills!
Grimgork likes killing humans. Am good killer.
Fat man screams louder, down on knees.
I slash with killing claw across fat man belly. Screaming very loud. Pink snake coming out of belly. I look nosy.
Fat man grabbing at belly, tries to hold snake inside. Screaming loud all the time. Much blood, but not enough.
One more slash with killing claw across neck.
More blood now. Splash, splash, splash.
Fat man gurgles now. Falling forward on belly and face. Foolish human is dead.
Grimgork is happy. Have killed many humans now. Will be many more than ten. I smile, showing teeth. Killing teeth.

and the continuation of "Kampfgruppe Gunnarson"

Colour Sergeant Gunnarson
“One minute” said Gunnarson looking at his watch “make sure the Skulls capture everything and relay to HQ.”
They were standing at the bottom of the ravine. He had spent the last 30 minutes organizing the position of his men.
“And remember” he continued “when I give the signal it is essential that we pop smoke!” He looked at Sergeant Dupree and the Corporals around him.
“I don’t want to lose anybody just because the fly-boys don’t know who is friend or foe!”
He had given smoke grenades to the two Bolters at each end of the line as well as to the heavy Stubber in the center.
“And you Sir” said Gunnarson looking at Officer Cadet Brunnthaler “Need to stay here at the Vox. We need to have an authority person in communication if anything goes wrong.”
Everybody was aware that this was a parking position for the young officer where he could do no harm – hopefully.”
“OK, to your positions” he went over to the center of the line just below the Stubber.
“10 seconds”
The Recon Skulls relayed the images directly to the data display mounted on his forearm. He had extended it to maximum size and could make out the hundreds of Orks starting to stir in the dusk.
A faint whistle.
It grew louder.
One, two, three explosions.
Gunnarson looked at his display. Disappointed.
Colonel Estara had promised him a “rain of steel”. Yes, the explosions were right on top of the Orks, who started to get up and ran around in confusion.
“On target” muttered Greenberg into the microphone of his Vox communication unit.
If they only had three guns trained at the Orks, there wasn’t much damage to be done here. Gunnarson clenched his jaws.
Just as he muttered to himself “Never trust an officer” the whistling started again, louder now.
The Orks heard it too. Yelling and roaring.
And then hell broke loose!
Explosion upon explosion ripped the ground. Earth thrown into the air. The sound was ear splitting. More and more rounds came in.
He could no longer separate the individual explosions. The ground shook around him. And the intensity of the bombardment grew even stronger. He couldn’t comprehend what he saw on his data display. It looked as if the ground itself rose and heaved. Fire erupted all over.
Over the constant crash of the explosions he heard screams.
But they didn’t come from the Orks!
He looked around.
Several of his men had slid down to the bottom of the ravine. Hands over their heads they huddled on the ground. Their eyes pressed shut.
Gunnarson spit out the dust that gathered in his mouth. The air was filled with it. He couldn’t breathe. The dust was so thick in the air he pulled up his kerchief to cover his mouth and nose. It stung in his eyes. It was everywhere.
Swallowing hard he tried to focus on the data display again, but all it showed was smoke and dust with flashes of light in it. A chunk of earth hit his head and he realized that he didn’t wear his helmet. A bit late he donned it.
The next explosion was so close it rattled his teeth. More of his soldiers slid down the ravine wall and huddled down.
“No closer now” he whispered tightening the straps of his helmet.
The explosion threw him to the ground. With a grunt the air left his lungs. He looked up at the sky. Dust and smoke everywhere.
Dizzily he got to his feet.
All soldiers were now at the bottom of the ravine. The Bolters and Stubbers were still at the ledge, but the crews sat on the ground. Luckily the explosion hadn’t killed anyone. He could hardly see Brunnthaler and Greenberg at the Vox set through the dust. Wearily he got up. He could see Sergeant Dupree rising too.
At first he didn’t realize it.
The explosions had stopped.
“Damn!” he ran forward to the loader of the Stubber. “Gimme the grenade!” Shell-shocked the soldier looked at him blankly.
“Smoke! Smoke! Smoke!” he yelled while trying to rip the grenade from the soldiers belt.
“The fething bombers are coming!” finally he wrestled the grenade free.
“Throw those damn grenades!”
He fumbled with the pin. His fingers slipped and he had to grab it again.
“Go, go, GO!”
He saw Dupree lobbing a Grenade over the ledge.
Finally!
The pin was free and he threw the grenade.
To his right the Bolter crew was still crouched on the ground. He ran over and seized the grenade.
Through the echoing silence after the bombardment he heard a distant rumble.
They must be close if he could hear it through the ringing in his ears. He pulled back his arm and threw the grenade out of the ravine.
Blue smoke hissed.
Frantically he clawed at the wall. On all fours he climbed the ravine to the ledge.
He raised his head over the edge and scrutinized the battlefield. Through the smoke and dust he could just make out the mouth of the canyon.
As the roar of the jets grew louder he could make out the first two shadows coming straight out of the canyon.
Straight at him!
Before he could slip down he saw the bomber rise and bank hard to his left. The second bomber followed banking to the right. Both bombers released their bombs.
While the bombs separated from the bombers in a wide graceful arc. The jets pulled up and with their afterburners kicking in accelerated away.
The bombs opened and released a shower of small bomblets.
Just before they hit the ground proximity fuses triggered the explosives. Hundreds of explosions ripped across the plains. Just as the explosions faded another pair of jets exited the mouth of the canyon and repeated the maneuver.
This time each bomber released only one bomb.
Unconsciously Gunnarson was aware what would happen next and squinted his eyes.
Both bombs exploded in fiery balls.
The flames engulfed the ground burning everything in the area. The blast and heat hit him together with another wave of dust.
Coughing he ducked his head beneath the ledge of the ravine. Through the buzz in his ears he heard another pair of jets approaching. Squinting over the ledge he saw the two bombers shooting out of the canyon, one after the other.
But instead of banking away they kept flying straight at him.
“gak!”
The first bomber rose up and released his cluster bombs. The bombs opened, releasing their deadly content and a carpet of small explosions covered the area in front of the ravine. But the second bomber kept going straight.
Didn’t he see the smoke?
“Duck! Duck! Duck!” he yelled sliding down the ravine.
The explosion shook the walls.
A wave of heat and flames washed over them.
Even Gunnarson raised his arms over his heads and screamed.

Ork stuff was better but it's third person telling is odd to me. The color Sara is first prison. The ork talking in third throws me off but hey it breaks it up for you so whatever.

Decent guard post. If breaking up the story maybe give a quick recap why people are bombing the green skins. Like "color Sarg knew if the bombing didn't go well the irks would do X". Then I'm like oh yea these guys again! Without having to go back and look.

Just thoughts keep it up.