CRUNK
CRUNK
CRUNK
The adamantine clad blast shields rang with the sounds of siege. Rank upon rank of navy troops watched the doors, guns raised and ready for the worst. Crates and containers had been hauled into the arterial hallway and men clambered onto the makeshift walls. A tense silence filled the corridor. Soldiers hissed oaths and muttered prayers. The greener troop’s guns rattled in shaky hands. But over all of this was the grinding and groaning of the bulkhead.
Behind the uneasy men and woman an officer turned to his lieutenant.
“How long can the barrier last against such an onslaught?”
The lieutenant scoffed at his doubts.
‘Against Orks? Long enough. There’s no brute forcing your way through an imperial cruiser’s main blast shields. Three feet of adamantium and steel! Maybe if we let them go at it for a fortnight, maybe I’ll start to worry. No, we’ll sweep up their swine kin in the gun decks and deal with these fools later. Let them waste their time against our doors’
As if hearing the man’s boasting, the rhythm of siege shifted. The slow crash of metal on metal died away as a steady thumping grew closer. Some instinctual sense told them it was the heavy, ironshod tread of some impossibly sized behemoth. But they dismissed such a thought, no Ork could be so large. For the briefest moment, both sides were silent in anticipation. Then the screech and howl over speakers.
Is it work’n?
The voice was rough and guttural. The damned Orks had somehow hotwired themselves into the intercom system.
Roight, I got a few choice words wiff evvybody before we get started proppa! Dis is Gargamagh, da flashiest, da killiest and da LOUDEST boss around! I bin fight’n dis side da galaxy to da uvva, and I got da bling ta prove it! Now I ‘eard you umies got a good mob put togetha. I fink it would be a real shame if all dis loot went to waste on dis abby-don and ‘is black fellas. I’m a’grab all your dakka, I’m a’grab all da bling and we gunna ‘ave a good time doin it! I want a good and proppa foight outa you umies, so I’m gunna do ya a favour! Me an da lads are at door… 5… alfa? Da big door in da big ‘allway! Betta ‘urry up, cuz I’m comin through!
With a loud crackle the Orks cut off the connection.
‘What the hell does that mean?’
They didn’t have long to wonder.
BOOM
The doors bend.
BOOM
The doors buckle.
BOOM
The doors break.
WAAAAAAAAAUGH!
That would be the last sound many of those soldiers, armsmen and marines would hear before their deaths. And the last thing they saw was the giant leading the violent mob. A great Ork warboss charged across the threshold, guns lashed to its back and limbs letting loose a hail of lead and fire. In its right hand was the weapon that broke the seemingly unbreakable barrier. A great hammer, its head the size of a man. Its face glowed with the kinetic energies generated within. It was like some grinning demigod of the savages of old, encrusted with metal plates painted yellow and the gold of a thousand different raids.
The terrified men and woman opened fire, but the monster didn’t slow. It’s beady, red eyes were locked on the commanders at the rear. Bodies went flying as the stomping hulk of steel and muscle stampeded through the ranks. To their credit the officers never stopped firing or ran, even as the hellfire wreathed hammer fell on them. All that was left was a crater punched through the floor.
‘Come on lads, we get to da tippy top and dis ship is ours!’
