They sat around the table of the mostly intact room in a bunker that Gannicus had selected as their field headquarters. The lights flickered and a bit of dust drifted down around them as another one of the primitive Ork artillery pieces fired upon their temporary camp. It had started as a mild amusement, but with each successive day the shells became more numerous, and the statistical odds they would hit something important grew larger.

“There is a 38.12% chance that if we attempt to move the materials now that the shielding we have constructed around them will rupture releasing a lethal emission in a large enough radius to make defending them problematic.” The clicking voice of Techpriest Dol was delivered without emotion, but Gannicus could tell by the way his shoulder mounted mechndrite kept twitching about that the techpriest was agitated.

“There is a 100% chance that if we stay here the Orks are going to overwhelm and butcher us,” interjected Flavius, the young princep of Emperor’s Honor.

“72.53 at most,” offered Dol as though it were any better. “Still, we are nearing completion on the excavation, and I have arranged transport to arrive and allow us to withdraw the spoils of this expedition back to the firebase we established on the northern peninsula.”

“Can we air lift it out?” This question came from Julia “Steel Witch” Vespiarno, the aged princeps always seemed to be snarling thanks to an old war wound that had nearly torn off half her face and to which she pointedly disdained receiving an augmented replacement for.

“Our limited air forces are already stretched to the limit maintaining some measure of cover for us from the Ork…aircraft.” Dol seemed pained to describe the half-scavenged debris with wings attached that the Orks used for their fighter craft, but even the Techpriest was obligated to admit that they had proven dangerous. “I calculate that our best odds lie in relying upon our available resources in ground support from your household,” here he nodded in deference to Gannicus.

“So, it’s all up to us, as usual,” Flavius sighed, running his hands through his golden locks and shaking his head. “Why do we even bring the AdMech with us?”

They give us points with command when we save them,” Gannicus offered as he stood up. “We’ll arrange an escort, Dol, but you need to load up the archeaotech now – we can’t afford to wait any longer.”

----------------------------------

“Boss! Boss!” Mr. Grimey came running down the hill towards where Kaptain Zog’dakka was debating something with Grocbad “the Rokkit” Burstablack, his chief Big Mek. The Warboss turned towards Mr. Grimey, an angry look on his face – but Mr. Grimey hadn’t survived as his chief advisor/kickball/spare snack for this long without learning what tended to annoy the massive Ork. “Shiver me’ timbers, yar-har!” he loudly cried as he skidded to a stop.

“Well said, Mr. Grimey,” Zog’dakka revealed rows of sharpened teeth as he grinned merrily, “whot have ya to report?”

“Well, the humans in their base-”

“Y’see!” Zog’dakka interrupted and spun back towards Grocbad. “Dis is what I’m talking about! Dere is still a base, and I told ya, I told ya twice dat I wanted yer cannons to flatten it flat!”

“Y’also told me to strap da kannons to da jets so dey could flatten dem from da air where da big pokey Knight ladz couldn’t stab dem, but da planez couldn’t lift orf so you den told me ta give dem all tank treads so they could move and build a giant ramp so they sould still shoot down at da base and-“

“Don’t bore me with the details of yer failure all over again,” Zog’dakka growled, “I knew I shoulda just had ya build me my land boat instead…”

“Yar-har, boss,” Mr. Grimey cautiously intruded, figuring it never hurt to lead off with a yar-har just in case. “The thing is, the humans are loading up their loot and looking to get out of there on a train they brought in.”

“Why didn’t we cut da tracks!?!”

“You said we shouldn’t, on account of it might make it hard for them to bring in more reinforcements to krump.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember dat now, shoulda realized dem tin boyz wouldn’t ever try to be propah.” Zog’dakka let out a loud roar, causing many of the nearby boyz to start drawing in closer, sensing an upcoming scrum. “So, da ‘umies thing dey can scupper off with em lootz, eh? Well, ladz, how about we go and stomp dem propah and take all the gubbinz for ourselves!”

Zog’dakka was an amazing politician, and, as usual, his party platform of stomping and looting (and sticking heads on pointed sticks) proved very popular with his core supporters. The Orks started howling and chanting in eager glee as they gathered their weapons and followed their Kaptain to war.

1850 points per side.
6x4 table
First Strike, Slay the Warlord, and Linebreaker are in effect.
There is 1 objective (the archaeotech missiles attached to the servo hauler). It will move 12” along the tracks every turn and is worth 1 point each turn to whomever holds it.
If a unit is on the tracks blocking where the train needs to be to finish its movement then take 1d3 mortal wounds and move the unit the shortest possible distance to clear the tracks for the train.
At the end of each battle round anyone within 3” of the objective will take 1d3 mortal wounds due to radiation leakage.
The Imperium has a 1CP stratagem that can allow them to select a single unit to be immune to this effect.

We also are using the experience chart out of Chapter Approved 2018 and also allowing character models to benefit from it.
As stands all of the Knights and Zog’dakka received traits due to their actions last game.
The only traits that really matter is that the shooty Knights got the +6” range to any Heavy/rapid fire weapons with 24” range or greater (so, y’know, all their current loadout).