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I originally posted part of this in the Chain Fiction section, but, after reading it back, I decided I would have liked to expand on it more, and flesh out some of the fluff for my Speed Freeks. So I did. Hope anyone who reads it finds it enjoyable. Also, the story takes place around the time of the second war for Armageddon, when Gorskar was but a young and inexperienced warboss, and some time before current in-game events.

PART 1: The Invasion Begins

Day 1: Space above Rylus Majora

With a tortured shriek of twisted metal and rock, the space hulk StarKrusha lurched from the Warp, and entered real space once more. It slowed down, trying to relieve itself of some of the momentum of the journey through the Empyrean, and began to approach the planet before it. For a few seconds, Gorskar dared to hope that, just maybe, their luck had changed and his Waaagh! would find itself in orbit above Armageddon. Then Wurrmek spoke up, and the hope was shattered. They were above a human world, but not Armageddon. Now, normally it wouldn't matter whether the world was Armageddon or not, but ever since the StarKrusha had become hopelessy lost (the map grots grew ever more incompetent as the days rolled by) a good fight had become a rare treat for Gorskar and his ladz. Even on those rare occasions Wierdboy Skar had been able to direct them from warpspace into a nearby solar system, more often than not there was nothing to do there but burn a few isolated worlds devoid of anything more than basic animal life, barely worth the Speed Freeks' attention. In truth, Gorskar longed for a great battle, something that would be worth getting his snazzy trukks and wagons out for. He doubted he would get such a battle on this world; it wasn't Armageddon, and so wasn't where he wanted to be.
"Dere anyfing out dere for us ter kill?" he snarled hopefully at the Big Mek.
Before Wurrmek could reply, the hulk shook with the force of weapons impacts.
"Don't bovver asnwerin' dat, Wurrmek, I fink I can guess."
"Boss, da skannerz is pickin' up shootin' from dat planet over dere!"
"Hurr hurr, Looks like we got a fight on our hands, Boyz!" With a roar of glee, Gorskar picked up his favourite shoota (the one that had cost him nearly all of his old teef to buy), strapped on his power claw and lumbered towards the launch bays, barking orders at anyone that he happened to pass on his way there.

The human system ships put up a courageous fight, but they were ancient models, outdated and in need of refitting. One by one, they were either crippled or destroyed by the space hulk's gun batteries, the giant vessel simply too large for the humans to be able to defeat. Though the StarKrusha was battered by the ferocious defence, it emerged triumphant; only one of the system ships had escaped the fight.

Twenty minutes passed, and the space hulk was now in position. Swarms of fighta-bommas began their approach from the launch bays to the planet below, braving the anti-aircraft fire of the planet's defenders to get at their targets; the ground-to-orbit weapons attempting to destroy or drive off the orbiting hulk. Many planes were lost, but soon the greenskins' numbers began to tell, as the torpedo silos and planetary lasers went silent. Then the drop-ships and landing craft began their descent; the Waaagh! had begun.
The Imperial forces, although taken by surprise, were not idle as the greenskins prepared to land. On the planet's surface, tanks rumbled out of their repair depots, artillery pieces were deployed in combat readiness and the streets of the cities trembled with the thunder of thousands of marching feet as the Planetary Defence regiments began to emerge from their barracks to defend their home world. War had come to Rylus Majora. The Imperial Governor hoped only that Rylus' destruction had not come with it.

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Day 36: Surface of Rylus Majora

The war had raged incessantly on Rylus' surface for just over a month. The greenskins had roared out of their crude dropships in their tanks and had fought a blitzkrieg campaign against the beleaguered PDF, smashing through several key defensive lines and scattering the defenders with comet-like force. Once through, the warbands would often attack the PDF's supply routes, cutting off the precious ammo and materiel that the humans needed to hold out. The first major blow to Imperial morale was the fall of Rylus' primary space-port, captured in the first two weeks by a war-horde of buggies and trukks led by the Warboss himself, seated comfortably in his favourite battlewagon. Though the fighting in the spaceport complexes was brutal and costly for both sides, the defenders were outmatched. Gorskar now had the facilities to begin landing his heaviest weapons; the ramifications for the Imperial forces were grim, to say the least.

Inside the Imperial palace, the Imperial Governor's Telepathic Choir began speaking of messages incoming; reinforcements were on their way. The Imperials redoubled their efforts, denying several hive-cities to the rampaging xenos forces, but it was clear that they could not hold out for much longer; the Waaagh! was too strong. The aid promised by the Telepaths would have to arrive soon, or they would find themselves facing an invasion of an ork-held world.
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Gorskar was delighted. Finally, after all that time wasted trying to find his way to Armageddon, here was a real fight. He loved it. His Ladz were doing extremely well; they now had a spaceport to land all of their biggest kit for when it was time to attack the human cities, and the humans themselves were in disarray, trying to plug the gaps in their lines even as the speed freeks streamed through. in the areas where the fighting was fiercest, Leman Russ battle tanks and ork battlewagons clashed while all around them the gutted hulls of their comrades burned. Yes, this was definitely worth getting lost for.

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Day 68: Hive Corinthia and Hive Styx

Hive Corinthia was the first to fall. For weeks previously, the orks had blown gaps in it's defensive wall and attempted to break through, only to be hurled back by the efforts of the PDF, though with each attack more and more guardsmen went down, never to get back up again. Even so, the Hive was holding, with the orks unable to gain a firm foothold within the city. The end came in the form of one of Gorskar's secret weapons, if "secret" can be applied to something as noisy as a Gargant mob. The great metallic monsters pulverised the defences of Corinthia with their cannons and missiles, before levelling parts of the city nearest to the huge holes. The surviving defenders mounted a desperate last stand amidst the ruins of their city, but it was in vain. Within the day, the hive belonged to the orks.

At Hive Styx, a similar situation developed. Once again, the application of Gorskar's Gargants had all but destroyed the city's defences, and the PDF troopers still alive were preparing to sell their lives as best they could against such odds. However, even as the tanks of the orks began their charge, everything changed. The skies filled with the roaring forms of Valkyrie gunships, and platoon upon platoon of drop-troopers began landing, strengthening the Imperial troopers and throwing back the orks amidst bloody fighting. Reinforcements had arrived.
Even so, the Gargants would have swung the battle back in the favour of the greenskins, had another development not occured. The first thing the orks knew of it was the earth beginning to shake; from the south, great armoured forms could be seen, striding towards the hive. With their vox-grilles howling, the gargants turned to face this new challenge. Hive Styx could wait; here were Imperial Titans, foes worthy of their attention.
The casualties were high on both sides; many of the massive war machines needed extensive repairs. Some would never fight again. The PDF, Drop-troopers and their ork opponents fought furiously, and the death toll on both sides was enormous. But Hive Styx did not fall. The orks had lost their first major engagement, and the humans began to hope that the tide was about to trun.

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Day 92: The Imperial Palace, Hive Athena

The Imperial Governor, Marcus Caecilius, gasped a heartfelt sigh of relief. The Imperium had come to their aid, and in time too. Seated with him were the Commander of the PDF, the Head Arbites Judge and the Administratum representative for Rylus. Each of them gratefully greeted the new arrivals; the Regimental commanders of no less than five of the Imperial Guard's finest. With them, represented via hologram, was the Princeps Prime of a demi-legion of the Legio Titanica.
"Thank the God-Emperor, we were sorely pressed. The xenos have all but decimated our forward regiments, and we are running dangerously low on ammunition and medical gear."
The most senior commander, General Abel of the Elysian 112th, nodded politely, and smiled reassuringly at Marcus.
"Not to worry, sir, we are just the first wave. More regiments are being shipped here even as we speak, and I have received confirmation that three Astartes chapters have pledged forces to aid us in removing the greenskin threat from your system. It will be bloody, but we will crush the invaders, you have my word."
Marcus nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. All the horrors of the last few months had taken their toll on the governor; whereas once he had been a tall, fairly content looking individual, he now looked anything but. Many sleepless nights had formed bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were hollower than before. Stress had put him on medication for elevated blood pressure. In short, he was exhausted.
"Thank the Emperor," He muttered again, before carefully sitting down. "Thank the Emperor."

PART 2: The Imperium retaliates

Day 119: Hive Hephaistos

Hive Hephaistos was a vital industrial hive, home to some of the most important maufactorums on the planet. Here, the tanks of the Rylus PDF and their sister regiment the Rylus Dragoons were constructed, ready to fight in the Emperor's service both at home and across the galaxy. Here, the lasguns, mortars, armour and equipment for these two regiments was rolled out from huge factories and put in transports bound for the front line. In short, it was a huge tactical asset to whichever side owned it, and both the High Command of the Imperial forces and Gorskar knew it. It was late summer, at the height of the western continent's dry season, when Gorskar decided to make his move. Racing towards the Hive's outer defences at the head of a column of his speed freeks, Gorskar unleashed the second of his "secret" weapons. He ordered his new fleet (constructed from the wrecks of several Imperial vessels the StarKrusha had crippled in the last few months) to bombard the hive's wall and anything on it. The effects were mixed at best, but nevertheless, the job had been done; the surviving speed freeks now had a way into the city.

Even so, the hive is not without it's defences; though many of the guardsmen are killed by the extensive (if inaccurate) bombardment, many more have survived. As the speed freeks hurtled into the city, it is these men and women who put up the fiercest resistance. Trukks and their occupants were destroyed by home-made explosives rigged just moments before, rampaging mobs of orks were ambushed at every corner by fire teams, and snipers reaped a grim tally of boyz foolish enough to stray into the open for too long. In retaliation, the orks act with bloody-minded fury, charging fearlessly into the most desperate firefights without a heed for their safety and attacking everything that so much as twitches in the rubble and shadows. Slowly, the greenskins pushed their way into the city, hampered by the efforts of the PDF troopers and even citizens who have taken up arms in the defence of their homes. The casualties were incredible. Corpses were scattered everywhere, and the buildings burned with the ferocity of the fighting. So furious was the fighting in some areas that the streets and doorways were covered in the blood of the fallen. Still the two sides fought on.

Finally, the battle reached it's violent climax, at the centre of the industrial complexes of the hive. Here the defences of the PDF were so great, the orks could no longer make headway; each charge was flung back by the dug-in guardsmen. Gorskar looked at the scene, and knew it was time to act. Gathering his 'ardest Skarboyz, Gorskar led the final charge. This was it, death or glory. Behind the defensive lines, the then colonel of the PDF 12th, Julius Stern, saw what was happening, and in panic ordered all units to concentrate their fire on the approaching horde. Though the weight of fire felled many of the screaming Nobz, it was not enough. Breaking through the barriers with a hate-filled scream, Gorskar seized the colonel and, in front of the remaining PDF troopers, tore out the man's thorat with his power klaw. The sound of their leader's hideously broken death-rattle was too much for many of the troopers; they turned to flee, only to be caught and slaughtered by the frenzied Nobz who had followed Gorskar into the breach. The defence lines, only moments ago holding out, began to crumble in the face of the ork's newly restored resolve, and as more and more of the greenskins began storming the barricades in imitation of their boss, the remaining few troopers knew it was over. The new commanding officer, Ssgt. Nicholas, decided upon the only course of action left available to them. While his men bought him the time he needed with their lives, he ran for the ammo dump he knew to be nearby, a desperate plan forming in his head.

The first the orks knew of this plan was when the dump unexpectedly detonated, taking with it several nearby factories in a devastating chain reaction. Many of the greenskins were incinerated by the explosions, with many more horrendouly wounded. Gorskar himself lost an eye to a flying chunk of masonry, and his Waaagh! banner gained a few new shrapnel holes. The damage done, though extensive, was by no means disastrous. Many of the Manufactorums were still unharmed or needing only light repairs from the blast, and the majority of the ork force had escaped the brunt of Stern's final strategy.

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Day 140: Rylus Spaceport Complex

The orks had held the spaceport complex since the early days of the war, using it to land the Gargants they had deployed at Hives Corinthia and Styx. The Imperial generals knew this had to change. Without the spaceport, landing reinforcements would be difficult and slow, something that could prove fatal against an enemy capable of striking with shocking swiftness. Therefore, they decided that it must be retaken, and began drawing up plans to use the Elysian regiments and any available Titans to attack the port. Remembering the "surprises" that Gorskar had used to capture the Hives of Corinthia and Hephaistos, the generals planned to unleash some surprises of their own.

At first, the battle swung in the orks' favour; their Gargants outnumbered the Titans two to one, and the orks themselves fought with a berserk fury, using any available advantage to cast the guardsmen back. The Elysians were gaining no ground; worse, they were being pushed back due to the fury of their greenskin adversaries. Suddenly, all of that changed. The first the orks knew of the danger they were in was the sudden appearance of fiery meteors, hurtling towards their positions. The Space Wolves had arrived, and were making planetfall.

Leading the initial wave was Old Haakon, a venerable dreadnought who had served with the 11th Grand Company for three millenia. Howling great war-oaths through his vox-grilles, he laid about him with his adamantine talons, carving apart the greenskins surrounding him. From behind, he could hear the berserker-screams of the Blood Claws as they gave vent to their fury in the swirling melee, and in front of him, the fiery veterans of the Wolf Guard led by example, plunging into the fray courageously, trusting their terminator armour to protect them from the blows of their enemies. Slowly, but surely, the tide began to turn. Though the orks fought on, often to the death, the Imperial forces had outmanoeuvred them, and were now pressing home their advantage. Even then, it was a costly victory for the humans. All but three of the Titans fighting there were crippled, and would need months of repairs just to return to service. The Elysians were reduced to just over half strength, even after the intervention of the Space Wolves, and the sons of Fenris themselves had lost many a brave warrior to the fury of the enemy. However, the mission's objectives had been achieved; for the first time since the start of the war, Imperial forces had control over the spaceport. It was the victory the Imperials needed.

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Day 180: Hive Corinthia

It fell to the warriors of the Space Wolves to once again lead the charge against the orks. Wolf Priest Ulf Longmane swore that he would take back the city and free it's people or die in the attempt, an oath his battle-brothers of the Wolf Guard echoed with a roar.

Acting immediately, Ulf redeployed his men into their two Thunderhawks, and led a lightning strike into the heart of the city, where he knew the beast that led the horde would be. If he could slay it, he reasoned, he would be able to destabilise the horde and end the Waaagh! then and there. The Space Wolves struck, deploying in good order and quickly securing a landing zone, before opening fire on the Ork units emerging from the nearby buildings. Initially the greenskins were caught completely by surprise, and put up a disorganised and poor resistance; the Space Wolves pressed the advantage, Ulf at their head, and forced their way into the warbosses command chambers. There, they found their target.

Gorskar snarled, furious at the interruption of what had been a very promising squig-fight. Glaring at the Astartes with his new bionic eye, he decided that this was unforgivable, and with a bellow of anger he gathered his Nobz and charged. The resulting brawl was deafening, as the Space Wolves attacked with a roar of their own. In the centre of the swirling battle, Ulf and Gorskar fought, each combatant's rage eclipsing everything but the need to kill their opponent. Despite the courage of the Space Wolves, the Nobz were holding their own via sheer bloody-minded determination. Finally, the end came. Ulf launched forward, and brought his Crozius crashing down onto Gorskar's shoulder, the impact crushing the iron plate and part of the muscle and bone underneath. In reply, Gorskar howled, and with a single brutal motion, lifted Ulf high above his head and brought him sharply down onto his knee, breaking the Wolf Priest's spine with a sickening crack, before throwing him to the floor and crushing his skull with a vicious stomp. The remaining Space Wolves fought fiercely, but the horrific death of their leader had galvanised the Nobz of Gorskar's bodyguard into a frenzy of violence; not a single member of the twenty Astartes emerged alive. Even so, the Warboss' wounds were serious, and some of the larger Nobz were surreptitiously sizing him up. There would be trouble with challengers to his throne for many weeks to come, something that would buy the Imperial forces the time they needed to gather their forces for the next phase of the Imperial campaign: nothing less than to drive the greenskins completely off Rylus Majora and out of the system.

Not a bad start. This reads like a prolouge through the entire thing kind of like it's gearing up for a story later. Who are the other two SM chapters? Or did you mean companies? There are a few phrases that you used a little too much, the next thing they knew, is one of them. But I like your work over all.

Good prelude, and nice details. althou I would like some more details on the Imperial forces and so on. But keep the good work flowing

Thanks for the comments!

@ComputerGeek01: Yeah, I do that sometimes, which is a pity. I guess I can consider this a learning experience in how to write. I probably should have stated also that there are three companies from three different Space Marine chapters involved in this, who will be introduced as it progresses. Incidentally, this is something of a prologue, as I plan to add more to this as and when I am able.

@Anshal: Thanks, it's greatly appreciated. Don't worry, the next few installments will cover the Imperial side of things in a bit more detail.

Can't read it now, but it looks good from scanning it, so I look forward to reading it later! Keep it up, because according to the others; it's awesome!

Thanks, Dark! That's made my day, that has.

You're welcome! Still haven't read it though xD! Been assembling the mark 2 of one of my old crimson fist captains! I upped his pts cost by 25pts oO

But that's enough of me, this thread is about you!

PART 3: Retribution

Day 200: The Imperial Palace, Hive Athena.

General Gregory Abel mopped his brow, and slowly reached for his glass of water, the stifling atmosphere in the palace beginning to get to him. It was now the middle of summer on Rylus Majora, and the heat wasn't helping things; if anything, it made the pressure of the past few months seem even worse. He knew their position, though better than it had been, was still very dangerous. Though the invading greenskins had been beaten back at the spaceport, and now seemed to be interested in tearing each other apart, Gregory knew from experience that the xenos were by no means defeated. Once a leader had emerged from the rabble, they were sure to go back on the offensive, and Gregory was not sure that the tattered Imperial forces would be able to withstand a new wave of assaults, even with the presence of the Space Wolves. Gregory looked across the table, to where their representative sat, and felt some of his fears die. The warrior, who had introduced himself with a garrulous smile as Jarek the Grey, took up an impressive amount of space at the war council's table. Clad in full Astartes plate, Jarek stood head and shoulders above even the tallest human in the room. With his strange tribal trophies, ash-coloured hair and grizzled features, Jarek would have been considered an intimidating sight, were it not for his surprisingly friendly nature. Gregory remembered meeting him for the first time. He had saluted, only to have the veteran Astartes slap him on the back (the bruises from that were almost faded now) and laugh, calling him Brother and asking him his name. After Gregory had told him, Jarek had smiled at him (God-Emperor, those teeth!) asked if he wanted a drink, "to loosen those nerves of yours. You look like you haven't had a good ale in ages!"

Yes, Gregory thought, whatever happens, at least we have them with us. He looked at the other members of the war council. To the left of him was Princeps-Prime Alain, once again represented via hologram. His demi-legio had been mauled heavily by the enemy; he had refused to leave the front line so as to be ready to throw back a surprise assault with the firepower of his Titan, an ancient Warlord-Class machine. Gregory admired the man's courage, if not his attitude, for the Princeps was a terrible pessimist, always predicting the worst and preparing for it in what Gregory suspected to be a case of mild paranoia. From what he could see of the Princep's face due to the hologram, he was paler than he had been, a sign of the exhaustion and stress he was under. Gregory sympathised with him; with a fresh Imperial counter-attack only a matter of days away, the Princeps would soon find himself in the thick of it again. A slight movement drew Gregory's attention to the others in the chamber, and once again Gregory's fears were calmed slightly. Seated to his right were the three generals of the recently arrived reinforcements, hailing from Krieg, Athonos and Vostroya. In addition, beyond them he could see his companions, the commanders who had joined him here to aid this world. Elias and Jansen were Elysians, commanders of the 231st and 223rd respectively. Colonel Bromhead was new to him, but still a solid, dependable man. His regiment, the Harlech 12th, were responsible for guarding the capital hive, a duty Bromhead took very seriously indeed. The final two commanders of the off-world regiments were more of a mystery to Gregory. Both hailed from the same world, a snow-covered planet in the galactic south-west called Kursk, but neither had been around long enough for him to get to know them properly. The senior of the two, Field Marshal Vashenko, was in general calm and composed, providing a pronounced contrast with his junior, Commander Pavilov, whose laughter rivalled that of Jarek.

"Gentlemen, if I could have your attention?"
It was General Voltimand of the Rylus PDF who spoke. He was the most senior officer at the table, having made his career in the Rylus Dragoons before retiring to take command of his home world's defence force.
"As you all know, we have been granted a window of opportunity by the actions of our comrades. My condolences for your loss, by the way, Brother Jarek."
Jarek nodded ruefully in acknowledgement.
"Aye, we shall miss the warriors of the Longmane. They died well, however, buying us time with their lives, so let us remember them for that."
"yes, of course, time we must not waste. Our intelligence reports that the actions of Wolf Priest Ulf have destabilised the enemy's chain of command; the savages are fighting amongst themselves to determine who has the right to lead the horde. We don't yet know if the original leader of the greenskins is still at large, but at this stage it makes little difference. We must strike now, before they have a chance to reorganise."
Voltimand paused, gathering his thoughts, before continuing.
"It may interest you to know we are not to undertake this struggle alone. Gentlemen, if you would consult your datapads? You may be pleased at the news."
There was a moment of silence, as each member of the council digested what was in front of them, before Alain spoke up, his voice distorted with static.
"Is this confirmed?"
"It most certainly is, Princeps-Prime. They are making planetfall as we speak. With them come the replacement God-machines you requested, as well as the supplies of ammunition, weapons, armour and medical equipment we need if this next phase of our war effort is to be successful. Make no mistake, we will not fail, not with three of the Emperor's most lauded chapters of Astartes fighting with us. Brother Jarek, have you heard anything from them?"

Jarek stood, and stroked his beard. Once again Gregory thought how terrifying it must be to to face him in combat; Jarek was alarming even when he was joking with the soldiers.
"We have, friend, we have. As I understand it, our lord will be receiving Brother-Captain Agatone sometime around now, whereas Brother-Captain Aditrus will be making planetfall in the next twenty minutes. With them come 100 warriors of the Salamanders and 60 of the Obsidian Tears, though the Tears have sent their finest to this world's aid."

"Wonderful news, comrade, but the real question is, what is our directive?"
It was the calm voice of Vashenko now which rang out.

"That will be answered in the next few hours, commander. I would suggest you take notes, for it requires a great deal of co-ordination."

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Day 215: Hive Corinthia, Warboss Gorskar's chambers

Ugrodd yelled, and brought his axed down onto the back of his rival's skull, crushing it with a satisfyingly gruesome noise. The fighting in the throne room and beyond had raged for several days now, and showed no signs of stopping. Led by Taugrek, Gorskar's former second-in-command, a part of the kult of speed had rebelled against the Warboss, no doubt due to his injuries. The nobz still loyal to Gorskar had fought back, and thus the entire war effort had been put on hold as the leadership struggle played out. Ugrodd was a loyalist; that is to say, he believed Gorskar was the boss who could lead them to victory on this planet, not Taugrek. Snarling, and with his axe dripping gore and brain tissue, he stalked forward, taking the opportunity to see what was going on downstairs. What he saw made him angry. Although the fight on the balcony was going well, down below in the main hall things were going to hell in a hand-basket. Taugrek himself had joined the fight, and Ugrodd was astounded at how much he'd changed. The former Nob was now huge, his muscular frame now truly looking worthy of a leader of the Waaagh! He was no slouch in combat, either. Ugrodd watched, impressed, as he cut a Stormboy in half with a well-placed chainaxe blow, and began to wonder if he'd made a mistake in his choice of side. After all, here was Taugrek, putting his life on the line as true orks should, and where was Gorskar? Ugrodd didn't know, but he knew it wasn't here, and that was all that mattered. Maybe Taugrek was a good leader after all, maybe Gorskar really was too weak to rule.

Just as that thought entered his head, Ugrodd was suddenly and dramatically proved very wrong.

"YOUUUUU! I'M GONNA EAT YER 'EAD!"

Bursting out of the doors behind the throne like an out-of-control juggernaut, Gorskar made his entrance. He seized the nearest rebel, and with a brutal motion tore him apart with a yank of his power klaw.
"I'M DA BOSS 'ROUND THESE PARTS, RUNT!"

If Ugrodd was surprised, Taugrek looked like he had just been punched in the face and couldn't quite figure out how. He was astounded to learn that Gorskar wasn't a cripple, and it was this astonishment that cost him his life. The enraged Warboss swang his power klaw into his rival's chest, and Ugrodd distinctly heard the crack of hardened ribs. Taugrek wheezed, but recuperated long enough to launch a blow of his own, directly at Gorskar's spitting face. The blow never landed. With a backhand, Gorskar deflected the swing, and to the delight of Ugrodd, there followed another loud snap as Taugrek's arm broke under the force. It was at this point that Ugrodd realised that nobody was trying to kill him; a quick look around confirmed this. Every ork in the building had stopped fighting, and all eyes were on the duelling pair.

The end came soon. Taugrek had fought well, but he was no match for the Warboss. Gorskar finished the would-be usurper off in a distinctly gory fashion; by grabbing hold of his opponent's head and crushing, the power klaw's shears making short work of Taugrek's skull.

Ugrodd knew he had backed a winner all along, of course, as did every other ork in the building, quite conveniently. Gorskar was back in power.

Darkvoidof40k wrote:You're welcome! Still haven't read it though xD! Been assembling the mark 2 of one of my old crimson fist captains! I upped his pts cost by 25pts oO

But that's enough of me, this thread is about you!

A power fist, methinks? Either way, the newest bit is up now, so be sure to tell me what you think of it all.

Nahh... Plasma Pistol and Power sword! [and digital weapons]

The original was scrapped together with the back torso and legs of my FIRST ever marine commander, with a new front plate, standard marine head, standard bolt pistol and space wolf power sword. But he mysteriously disappeared (as has upward of... about... £80 of my 40k stuff), so I have now replaced him. And the new model is wonderful! Got it off ebay, NIB, for £9.50 with free postage! Saved me £2.50 and arrived two days later (won it 10 at night on sunday, with a 'sniper').

Wow, that was unexpected! Anyway, I've now read everything you've written and, quite frankly, it was amazing! I love writing fiction, but I just never EVER get to do it... especially at school; we never write fiction; even though I'm in the highest class :/

But yeah, that was awesome! Spelling mistakes and typos aside, I loved that! Worthy of Black Library, that. Keep it coming, can't wait for more! Might even go write some stuff of my own sometime... :p

Thanks, man, that's truly appreciated. I admit, I'm not so good at editing my own work and it's definitely something I should work on, but hey, at least it wasn't too bad.

Lol yeah. xD

I was pleasantly surprised by the last chapter. And the new details on the Imperium forces really made the story that much better. And I love that you stuck a WW2 reference into it all. So all in all keep up the good work

Thanks, man! I like this new method of storytelling better, it gives an improved perspective on both sides, I think. Also, glad you picked up on that reference, I was hoping somebody would.

This is getting really good, I like how you don't drop the story right before combat starts like some other writers, you follow through to a logical place.

"...as did every other ork in the building, quite conveniently."

My favorite line so far ! I like how you implied that the rebels were all dead, nice touch. The in fighting to begin with was very Orky.

Thanks for your compliments! I'm glad you like the way my fluff works out, I have to admit it's often a bit of a pet peeve for me when authors do that whole cliffhanger stuff, so I tend to try and avoid doing it. I think it makes the story flow better. At least, I hope it does.

PART 4, CHAPTER I: Counterattack


Day 223: Hive Hephaistos

Captain "Ace" Jansen gritted his teeth and leapt.
The wind hit him like a truck as he left the Valkyrie's rear ramp, plucking at his fatigues and tossing him around like a puppet. Below him, he could see the landing zone, far away now but rushing up to meet him with deadly speed. Jansen began to count in his head; "Ten...Nine...Eight..."

The ground was much closer now, and he estimated there to be maybe forty or so metres to go.
"...Three...Two...One..."

Not ten metres above the earth, Jansen activated his grav-chute, slowing his murderous descent to a safe speed within seconds. He hit the ground, rolled, and immediately sprung up, scaning the area for threats. A few hundred metres away, he could see one of the Kursk squadrons engaging the enemy; their austere grey-green uniform a stark contrast to the bright arterial reds of the greenskins. The rest of Platoon Alpha finished the descent a mere second later, landing as smoothly as Jensen had. Immediately, two squads got into a firing position, snapping off quick shots into the mob of orks attacking the Kursk guardsmen. Some of the savages broke off, alerted by the lasfire to this new opponent, and began to charge up the hill towards the threat.
"Bravo, Charlie, light 'em up!"
The two squads obeyed Jansen's order, turning to face the onrushing orks in good order. With a loud crack, both squads opened fire, the shots slashing into the enemy. Several greenskins went down, clean headshots stopping them in their tracks, but many more carried on running, intent on tearing squads Bravo and Charlie apart.
"Squad Echo, NOW! Send them to Hell!"
The heavy bolter squad responded with gusto. Unlike the lasguns of Bravo and Charlie, these were the bruisers of the anti-infantry weapons used by the Elysians; each bolt fired was as big as a man's fist, and the damage they could wreak on lightly-armoured infantry was extreme. The guns shredded the lead orks, blowing them apart or severing limbs with the ferocity of their firepower. The next wave fared no better. By the time the heavy bolters had ran out of bolts to fire, half of the charging greenskins were dead. Even so, the remaining half managed to make it up the hill and began evening the score with the Elysians. Blood flew as the axes of the orcs fell, cleaving apart the Elysian troops. Jansen knew it was time to act.
"Elysians, combat knives! CHARGE!"
The next few minutes were the most brutal and hectic of Jansen's career. Thumbing the activation button on his chainsword, he charged into the melee, his soldiers following him with yelled battle-cries and screams of rage. A crude blade slashed out at him, forcing him to step back in order to avoid disembowelment. Even so, it tore at his flak armour, cutting into the skin beneath. He snarled, the cut hurting like hell, and retaliated, burying the whirring teeth of his chainsword in the ork's guts. For a moment, the creature looked surprised, as if it couldn't believe what had just happened to it, then it kicked out, it's foot slamming into Jansen's chest, knocking him to the floor. He rolled out of the way as it's cleaver came down again, narrowly missing his head, and rammed his chainsword into it's face. Once again, the teeth tore the ork to ribbons. This time, however, it collapsed to the floor, a ragged hole where it's mouth and nose had been. Jansen picked himself up. Around him, all was chaos. Men lay dying from bloody wounds caused by the ferocious enemy, while the three surviving greenskins fought to the death in the centre of a crowd of Elysians. He gathered himself, then strode towards the centre of the brawl. Now only one ork was left, a huge brute of a creature, fully half as tall again as Jansen was. The beast had it's back turned to him, busying itself with beating a guardsman to death with his own severed leg. Jansen paused, spotting something he could use on the ground, and picked it up, blowing the dust of the Rylian plains from it.
"Hey!"
The ork paused, and turned around, confused noises coming from it's throat.
Jansen shot it with the squad's meltagun.

For the next five hours, the combined efforts of the Kursk Red Troopers and the Elysian Drop Troops kept the orks at bay, throwing back every bloody assault aimed at clearing them from the drop site. Things were starting to look desperate. Ammunition was running low; many Red Troopers were forced to scavenge for energy packs amongst the bodies of their fallen comrades. Jansen had been wounded three times now. The second wound was fairly superficial, a mere cut across his arm, but the third was agony. A stray bullet from an ork machine-gun had clipped his shoulder, tearing through the flak armour and ripping off a large part of the muscle. he supressed another groan of pain as Medic Irvine began seeing to the wound.
"How bad is it?"
"You were lucky, sir. Another few inches to the left and you'd have lost your arm. As it is, this is gonna be a nasty problem, but it's fixable. You'll have one hell of a scar to show off to the ladies."
Jansen chuckled weakly.
"Bloody hell, doc, remind me to buy you a drink when this is all over. That's the best news I've heard in a long time!"
Irvine smiled, and carried on tending to the wound.

The ground began to shake.
"What?- Henricks! What the hell is going on?"
Trooper Hendricks came running over.
"Sir, vehicle movement. It's coming from the direction of the hive."
So this is it, Jansen thought to himself. The final stand. He'd known it would happen, of course; known it the day he'd signed up. A captain's life was often short, depending on where he was sent. In many cases, a potentially great career would be suddenly and violently terminated, either by the bullets or the blades of the enemy. Jansen sighed. He knew it would come to this, but he still found himself wishing it hadn't.

"Very well, tell the men to be ready for them. Fire when ready."
A movement from the east suddenly caught Jansen's eye. Something in the dust cloud there...
There it was again. A brief flash, a glimmer of metal, and it was gone. He strained his eyes, desperately trying to pick out the damn thing.
The rumbling of the vehicles was getting louder. It was now too loud to ignore.
Jensen looked towards the hive, and saw them. A huge crowd of crude red buggies and trucks, all swerving and careening towards the drop zone. Not the largest warband he had ever seen, but more than enough to crush the remaining guardsmen preparing to defend this place. From the mound to his right, the missile teams of both regiments fired, scything towards the oncoming fleet. The effects, though destructive, were pitiful, claiming only a handful of the vehicles. Limping up next to him, Captain Satyev surveyed the scene.
"It is bad, isn't it, comrade?"
"Yep. I'd say so."
"Drink?"
Jensen laughed despite himself, and accepted. He had only just met the Kursk man, but already liked him.
"Ah well, a guy's gotta go sometime. I just wish it wasn't today."

That glimmer from the East again. Jansen swore, surprising his new companion, and glanced over there one more time. What he saw froze him to the spot.
The speed freek warband never made it to the drop zone.

The Iratus Deus strode from the dust cloud and opened fire , the sound of it's weapons, distant though they were, hurting Jansen's ears. The explosions came next; dazzling displays of pyrotechnics that blew apart the suddenly disorganised ork vehicles, making the missiles of the Guard seem pathetic by comparison. It's carapace weapons finished firing, and for a second, everything seemed calm. Then the main guns opened fire. The damage was horrendous, reducing what was left of the warband to it's component atoms. Finally, Jansen could move.
"YES! By the Emperor, they're here!"
The vox operator shouted across the zone.
"Sir! Reinforcements inbound! We've got six companies of our boys plus Alain's Titan supporting the attack!"
Jansen turned to Satyev, who was speaking into his Comlink. He looked up at the Elysian and grinned.
"Our tanks will be here within the minute, comrade."

Above them both, the sky filled with the shapes of Valkyrie gunships, making for the drop zone. The attack had begun in earnest.

To be continued in Part 4, chapter II.

Man, this just keeps on getting better. First Astartes and now titans killing orks! I salute you sir

I don't know what else can be said; you have a talent for writing this stuff.

<see above>


Yeah, I second all that. Very nice, and you did well one of the hardest things when writing: an action scene.

Thanks for the compliments, guys, it means a lot to me. I plan to get Chapter II up by tomorrow night at the latest (with luck) so keep watching this space.
@Anshal: I thought the Titan was a nice touch, I just wondered how hard it would be for people to believe there was a dust cloud big enough to hide it.

@ComputerGeek01: Wow, that is... wow. A heartfelt thank-you is in order.

@Darkvoidof40k: Cheers man, my favourite bit happens to be the way Jansen kills the Nob. I kinda decided he would get absolutely killed if he tried fighting it in close combat, so I went for the "Arnold Schwarzenegger Shooting" approach

Keeeeeewl.

Anyways, The titan would be like 7 miles away lol.

But do some more orksies stuff! Also, do you like RPing on Dakka by any chance?

Darkvoidof40k wrote:Keeeeeewl.

Anyways, The titan would be like 7 miles away lol.

But do some more orksies stuff! Also, do you like RPing on Dakka by any chance?

I like RPing, though I've not tried it on the forums (with the notable exception of the King of the Hill thread)
Why?

'Cause I've got one. Wondering if you'd like to join? It's been up for a few months now I think lol, but it's not gone anywhere :p. Only just started it. It's the cult of volcarth one, not hard to find.

Lol, if you like RPing, you shoulda joined War of Attrittion. Problem is, it's 10+ pages in now. Meh. Not too late to join mine, and there's one pre-made character left.

PART 4: CHAPTER II

Inside the Hive:


Big Mek Kogg frowned at the news he was being told. The humans had got their act together, and were finally showing some backbone, attacking the ork's new main factory with a surprising amount of recklessness. Once his faithful messenger grot had finished squeaking out the tale, Kogg paused, and considered what to do next. Now, if the Boss Mekanik, Wurrmek, were here, he'd come up with some ridiculous and probably un-orky plan involving silly maneuvers, a suspiciously human-like lighting raid or two, before using a unnecessarily complex plan that involved outflanking, huge amounts of unit co-ordination and probably some new-fangled technological wotsit that Wurrmek had knocked together just that morning. Kogg sneered at such daftness. He often thought that the only reason Wurrmek was top and not him was because he had the sheer luck to come up with radical new Tellyporta designs before Kogg could improve on the older, more reliable versions. Yes, that was it.

At heart, Kogg was something of a traditionalist (inasmuch as the term could ever apply to an ork) and could not understand the success of Wurrmek's human-based designs and light fighting vehicles. Kogg believed in the key tenets of good old fashioned greenskin war machines; armour plating and big gunz always came out on top, no matter how much speed and manoeuvrability (which Kogg had always felt was a pointy-ear thing, rather than something befitting the boyz) were touted as being the future. Ever since the Warboss had put him in charge of this nice big war factory, he had strived to build newer and more powerful fighting machines that stayed true to this belief, and he felt he had done a fine job.

Now was the time to test this. It was no coincidence that the units he had positioned out as the first wave of defence were those which held allegiance to Wurrmek. He wanted them out of the way, the better to showcase his new designs and prove his superiority to the radical upstart. With a grin, Kogg turned to the messenger grot.
"Nibbla, get down to da hangers and tell Kaptin Skargrim to get mounted up and rollin'. Then foot it double-quick to da special hangers, and get Kaptin Urgor's brigade ready. You get all dat?"
The grot saluted.
"Yes, boss! Want me to get da Big Hitta started as well, yer Greatness?"
Kogg halted in his tracks.
"Yerr, YERR! Get Grokkit to get da Big Hitta runnin', and prime all it's gunz!"

Kogg hurried now, a new urgency in his step, as the thought of the coming battle filled his mind. He thought back to what Nibbla had told him about the human Gargant attacking the factory.
"We'll see just how tuff yer are pretty soon."
Kogg grinned again, and walked faster.

Twenty minutes later, hangar doors all over the city began to creak open, groaning in protest due to corrosion. Then, with a thunderous rumble, the tanks came rolling out. They now barely resembled the Leman Russes they had once been. Upgunned and with new armour plates everywhere, the Kill-wagons of Big Mek Kogg began their ponderous advance to the frontline. But even these metal-skinned monsters were just a prelude to what would come from the biggest hangars. Roaring like the wrath of the gods, great red leviathans trundled from their colossal hangars, guns the size of small buildings for arms, and eagerly waddled towards the fight. At their head was Kogg's pride and joy, a beast so large it dwarfed it's compatriots and the buildings around it. Indeed, many of the metal mines in the south of the city had been exausted and the human slaves worked to death to find enough material to build it. It's guns had the capability to level entire cities, and atop it's robust frame, a large, ugly command centre constructed to resemble a snarling orkish visage sat, glaring out at the plains of Rylus.

This was the Big Hitta, a war-machine the Imperium classified as a Great Gargant. Kogg, on the other hand, classified it as "da reason I'm a better mek than that idjit Wurrmek."
With a shout through it's vox-grilles, Kogg led his Gargant brigade to war.

Coming soon: Chapter III. Sorry for the cliffhanger, I don't have enough time to get it all done in one go due to schoolwork.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Reading about Wurrmek there, it would seem we have some sort of tacticalcreed. Do you have a picture of a 'great gargant', or is it made up? oO Oo O.O o.o 0.o o.0 0.O O.0

EDIT: Also, still loving it! This stuff is awesome, and it's a nice and easy read - doesn't get boring or tiring, and doesn't over complicreed things. Love it!

Darkvoidof40k wrote:oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Reading about Wurrmek there, it would seem we have some sort of tacticalcreed. Do you have a picture of a 'great gargant', or is it made up? oO Oo O.O o.o 0.o o.0 0.O O.0

EDIT: Also, still loving it! This stuff is awesome, and it's a nice and easy read - doesn't get boring or tiring, and doesn't over complicreed things. Love it!

Well, according to the fluff, a Great Gargant is the ork equivalent of a Warlord Titan. And Wurrmek probably thinks he's a tactical genuCREEEEEEEEEEEED, knowing his ego.

Yeah. Also, will there be any waaaaghfailing, as in this?




Mega waaagh failing.

Anyway, waiting for the next chapter of awesome.

PART 4, CHAPTER III: Thunder and Steel

On the Hephaistan plains, outside the hive.



Princeps Prime Edward Alain frowned, a small throbbing in his head indicating the weapons impacts on the void shields, and began to move the Iratus Deus forward, further into the fight.
"Moderati Chekov! Prepare to fire the Turbolasers, target the centre of the horde!"
"Aye, Princeps."
On the Titan's viewing screens, Alain saw the explosions a moment later; great white clouds of energy bursting forth from where the lasers impacted. The destruction must have been impressive, thought Alain. Inwardly, he sneered. There was nothing in this enemy force that could truly threaten his war machine, nothing that would count as a challenge to kill.

"Princeps, our scanners are registering massive heat signatures from the hive city!"
Alain started.
"How big?"
"Super-heavy size, at least. There's also a crowd of smaller signatures."

Alain began to turn the Titan towards the city. What he saw there startled him into silence.
Out of the city, great moving fortresses were waddling towards the Imperial positions, each one festooned with guns and what appeared to be clan banners. At their feet, a host of smaller, but still impressively sized tanks charged towards the Kursk defence line, and with a sick feeling in his stomach Alain recognised them as former Leman Russ battle tanks. And then he saw the beast leading this new threat. His throat seemed to clamp shut and sweat beaded his brow.
"Spirit of the Omnissiah... a Great Gargant."
And then the panic was over, Alain's will clamping down on the unwelcome feeling.
"Moderati! Both of you! Open fire with all carapace weapons, and give me control of the two main weapons! Take it's shields down!"
The moderati responded, and moments later the turbolasers fired again, targeting the behemoth. It's shields flickered and several collapsed, but there were still enough left to shield the Gargant from harm. It responded immediately, turning to face the Iratus Deus, and opening fire with the massive cannons on it's chest and arms. Alain flinched and swore, as several of the void-shields collapsed and caused a stinging sensation in his head. As it receded, he saw that the massive war machine was advancing towards him, and he snarled.
"Right, if that's the way they want to play it!"
He began to make the Iratus Deus move towards the Gargant in turn, watching as it's smaller brethren began to tear apart the guard defensive lines. Four hundred metres to go. Alain powered up the Titan's chainfist. Three hundred metres. The Gargant saw what was happening, and fired again. This time, Alain felt real pain. The shots had breached the void shields of the Titan, and it had taken damage; Alain felt the residual trauma of this, and cursed, the fiery pain in his chest causing his control to falter for a second. He recovered, kept going. Two hundred metres. The need to tear the ork war machine to shreds now clouded Alain's mind, blocking out everything else except his target. One hundred metres. The Gargant span,and powered up it's own chainfist.
The Iratus Deus' combat weapon swung, tearing a great gouge from the Gargant's chest and removing several of the smaller cannons there. In response, the ork mostrosity smashed it's claw into the chest of Alain's Titan, knocking it backwards and buckling the armour. It's shoulder cannon barked, and Alain screamed as a part of the chest carapace of the Titan was blown free. He fought to keep the Deusstanding, and in that moment he knew. This was to be his last battle, his last contribution to the Imperium. Were the Deus at full battle capacity, this would be an even fight, but the war on Rylus Majora had taken it's toll on the god-machine and the enemy machine, fresh from the forges of it's birth, was more than a match for Alain's battered Warlord Titan. Aalin made his peace with the Omnissiah and the God-Emperor, and prepared to sell his life as dearly as he could.

.....................................................................................................................................................................................................

Captain Satyev looked out from his command bunker, and privately despaired. Even though the dust cloud produced by the attacking orks was enormous, he could clearly see the forms of the Iratus Deus duelling the big ork monster, and he could see that it was a one-way battle. The Titan was fighting bravely, but the beast had it overpowered, and knew it.
In front of him, the earth heaved up as another shell from the ork tanks hit the trenches, killing a score of his men and wounding many more.
"Missile teams! Take out the enemy armour!"
The two remaining missile squads responded, their shots slashing out at the tanks approaching and blowing several to scrap. Satyev knew it would not be enough. He steeled himself, and prepared to meet the charge of the greenskins, ordering his squad's heavy bolter to man the firing slit of the bunker. A roar got his attention. Behind the immediate carnage, he saw the final stages of the duel being played out. The Great Gargant had smashed apart the shoulder weapons of it's rival, and was closing in for the kill, seeking to punch it's claw through the torso of the Warlord Titan. Satyev briefly muttered a prayer for Alain's soul.
He needn't have done.

The only warning the orks had of their doom was of the sky beginning to burn; groups of meteors seemed to punch through the clouds, streaking towards the battle. Then they impacted, releasing their cargo. The Space Marines had arrived.

Aboard the Big Hitta, Kogg snarled, his face a mask of concentration and fierce joy. He was ripping the human Gargant to shreds; one more blow and he would have got the biggest kill of all, showing that Wurrmek who was top ork once and for all. The blow never landed.

A bright blue light suddenly balsted forth from the centre of the Gargant's control room, blinding both Kogg and his gretchin assistants. When it had abated a moment later, he found himself staring at a group of immensely armoured giants, their armour painted black, except for one shoulder pad, on which there were three tears of obsidian.
"What da -"
Kogg's words were drowned out as the giants opened fire, shredding the control room and it's occupants. One stepped up to the command chair, and before Kogg could pull his slugga, drove a blade wrapped in amber fire into his chest, twisting and ripping it out before slicing Kogg's head in two.
Brother-Sergeant Eisel Grimm of the Obsidian Tears 1st company voxed the Iratus Deus.
"The target is neutralised, Princeps. Fire your Volcano Cannon in three seconds."
The Terminators teleported away from the Gargant, and a second later the Warlord's main gun delivered the killing shot, tearing through the helpless war machine's reactor and detonating it with immense force.
Aboard his Titan, Alain smiled, and spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Better late than never, I guess. Now get into the damn fight, we've got a battle to win here."

Coming soon, Chapter 4!