WH40k: Chapter1; This time it's WAAAAAGH!
 

Admiral Carandez was extremely happy. They were returning from Armmageddon, their ship had been repaired, and the crew was at an all time elite. The normal regiment that they were complimented with had been wiped out, and various platoons of other regiments gladly agreed to go with the Admiral and his warship. The thing itself was a glorious mark of Imperial engineering, sending a message to all that saw it not to dare attack the Imperium.
His smile died almost instantly. A large pulsing hole was ripped in space, oozing with evil. Then they came. Mismatched, ugly constructs, floating through space, bringing weapons to bear on them. Orks. And from appearances, not just a scouting group. An entire fleet.
Then the Admiral remembered the massive ammounts of firepower he could command.
“Helm, set us in orbit around Charka V. Tell them to power planetary defenses, and to be ready to stave off an Ork invasion. Issue a call for help through all the systems. And order all regiments to be battle ready. Tell the gunnery crews to get ready, now let’s show these Ork scum what the Imperium stands for!”
Then the rest of the fleet arrived….

0400 hours after battle commencement.

The admiral looked around at what had happened. His ship had destroyed five Ork cruisers, but more were coming. Many more. Then the ship shuddered as the first boarding craft hit. The planetary weapons grew dangerously close. “Emperor save us…”

0200 hours after boarding

The imperial forces weren’t faring well. The orks had taken the unprepared platoons by surprise. Currently, the 12 or so that remained were scattered all around the ship, trying to stay alive. The admiral issued the order to either retake the ship, or have it destroyed.
0300 hours after boarding.
Savarax checked the new suspensors on his Heavy Bolter carefully. Arranged around his cabin were several other Space Marines that had been chosen to join the Deathwatch. None of them had gotten their armour repainted, and they’d only recently been given any extra equipment. Their commander, Imperius, walked over to the cabin door and said, “We are going to be helping the Warship Agitator right now. Consider this a test of whether or not you’re fit to join the Deathwatch. It has been almost completely overrun, and the few Imperial Guard left are fighting for their survival. Retake the ship, or destroy it. Note that there is constant damage being inflicted by planetary defenses, and there are countless hullbreaches, sealing off many conventional routes.”

The commander was in full Deathwatch black, with a power fist on one hand, a plasma pistol in the other, a jump pack, and the Ultramarines sign showing easily on his shoulder. There was a crunching as they hit the wall, and a shrieking as they broke in. The familiar scene of war came across their vision.

“Ave Imperator.” Was all Imperius said before igniting his pack and jumping into hell. Savarax was soon out. A greenskin charged at him, screaming the traditional battlecry of "WAAAGH!" The scream was cut off abruptly as Savarax ripped his torso apart with bolter fire.

Having been a squad commander, he raised a hand, gestured to three others Space Marines (NPC's) from the Howling Griffons, Raptors, and Silver Skulls. "Let's move out."

OOC: Okay, here’s the skinny. Horribly damaged ship, we’re being attacked by Space Orks. That’s right, Space Orks. Same as normal, except some have guns. Some have flamethrowers. All have personality dispositions.
Imp Guard will be deep in the interior. You’re trying to stay live. SM are trying to fight their way through them all. Hopeless odds basically. Prepare the become heroes.

OOC: Yay, we're gonna be heros! Wait a minute, dead men can be heros too...

Commissar Kefka glared at his command. The Iron Redeemers were the elite of the elite, the top of the line when it came to the Imperial Guard. This elite Stormtrooper squad was known for getting in and out, and leaving nothing but dead enemy bodies in their wake. They weren't made for this personal level of hell.

They had set up a defensive line in a hallway with two sqauds of regulars to back them up, and they had been a holy terror to the Orkish hordes so far, but it wasn't good. Their numbers were simply stunning, even for Orks. As a second wave of Orks charged down the halls, the hideous battle cry of "WAAAGH!" in the air as they stomped towards the troops. They almost begged to shoot, pleaded, but Kefka forced them to hold on with a glare. When they were in spitting distance, Kefak shouted, "Fire!" The Hellguns unleashes their trademark fury point blank into the charging Orks, and they tore the front and second lines to bloody pieces in second. Kefka himself aimed his Bolt Pistol and held the trigger down, peppering the Orks with Bolt fire. Each shot from the Commissar minced another Ork's head to gore, adn their combined fury actually seemed to be turning them back. Flame jets shot by as the flamethrower orks got closer, but the troops held with brutal efficency, not daring to blink under the maddend eyes of their foe, and the dead eyed glare of Kefka. Soon the Orks were stumbling over each other to try and get away from this deathtrap, fighitng their own ranks trying to flee, but now it was a rout. As soon as the last ork had turned the corner again, Kefka looked at his command. <Damn, Vace took a bullet to the head that pierced his armor. Poor kid never stood a chance.> Kefka thought, but his words came out, "You thankless sacks of flesh, you think that was a rout? I've seen schoolyard children that could do a better job then you crying maggots! Form up your lines, and move Davidson back out of the front line. His death will not be in vain, and for his death one-hundred orks shall pay, do you hear me!"

"Sir yes sir!" Came the automatic responce. He knew that now every one of them had their steely gaze set on the hallway, ready to pay back the orks a hundred fold for daring to harm one of their own, much less kill him. He smiled behind their backs, and knew that today could be a good day to die...

"Fething shit!" Sergeant Throttle yelled, diving behind a block of machinery. Ork rounds impacted all around him, ripping jagged holes in everything they hit.

"How is it on the left flank?" Lieutenant Petrikov asked him casually, standing up and firing quickly over the engine block. An advancing Ork was caught square between the eyes, flying backwards from the explosive bolter round and splattering black blood over an engine console.

"Our men are holding," Sarge yelled over the "WAAGGHH"ing Orks.
"Of course." Petrikov replied.
"But we can’t hold forever, sir. Eventually we're going to run out ammo and men, and they'll swarm us."

Orks. It’s always Orks. Petrikov thought. He looked around at his men, each one fighting valiantly. They'd been defending this engine room for 2 hours now. Three times the Orks'd tried to storm the room, only to be repelled by the squad's wall of fire. Now the Orks were advancing more carefully, and with the numbers they had, it was only a matter of time until they over-ran the squad.

Petrikov looked at Throttle, the goggles of his gasmask glinting in the flashing gunfire of the room. "Get on the vox, tell command we need more men or the Orks'll have Engine Room 3 within the hour." As if to emphasis this, a man to their right fell to the ground, clutching his throat. The sergeant nodded, and prepared to run the gauntlet back to the men at the next position.

"Sergeant."
"Yes sir?"
"Emperor protect."
"You too, sir." He leapt forward into the firestorm.

OOC: *ZAP* *ZAP* LIVE! LIIIIIVE!

IC: Savarax ripped through countless orks with his Heavy Bolter. As he did so, he accessed a comm channel.

"This is Savarax of the Deathwatch. If any Guardsmen hear this, know I am on the 56th level, approaching cooling shaft two. If you need any assistance, know that me and three battle-brothers are coming to your aid."

There is a blast of static then a crackling voice.

"This is the Suicide Kings-zZzzztttzz-..holding Engine Room 3-Bzzcchhhzz-...requesting relief-Cccchhzzz-...to be over-run-Shhhzz-Can anyone hear this- WAAHHGG - Private 8 o'clock, fire!" Throttle abandonded the vox set, and pulled his lasgun up. The Ork was nearly right on top of them now. Private Zatsky spun and fired. The stream of plasma hit the Ork in the face, reducing the whole upper half of the Ork to a slagged heap of flesh. The melting Ork fell on the vox set, setting it aflame.

"Oh great."

Zatsky shrugged and blasted another charging Ork.

"Fire in morning, fire in the evening, fire at super time!" Templa sang out loud as he shot his Multi-melta at the Space Orks, instantly incinerating them.

The radio at the small group had nearly been slagged, but Kefka heard the noise coming from it. He waved at one of the regulars and pointed at the radio, saying to fix it without words. Soon he heard the announcement from the Space Marnies that reinforcemnts were on the way. Kefak actually smiled for once and said, "Do you hear that boys? We might live through this hellhole yet! Just keep those orks dying, reinforcements are on the way!" He warily kept an eye out for any movement, seeing orks occasinally peek around the corners to make sure they were still there. They were planning something, but whatever it was wasn't good...

EDIT: You got that line from VGCats IHMN...

Savarax nodded at that incoming transmission.

"Engine room three. Let's move." The four Space Marines walked steadily forward. He took account of his companions.

The Howling Griffon was carrying a nasty looking Deatwatch bolter, the Silver Skull was holding a power sword and bolt pistol, and the last was carrying a Power Fist, and a chainsword.

He heard a brief flash over the comm from the Black Templar. Apparently the chaplains had forgotten to show him military discipline.

"Suicide Kings, hold. This is Commander Savarax. We are approaching on your positions, estimated time to arrival, 10 minutes."

He cocked his Heavy Bolter, and walked forward, noticing that the corridors would provide excellent cover. Then he saw the lift was slagged. And the best corridor to go forward was sealed off from a hull breach.

Power Armour let them enter Space....so they could technically go out there. But with signifigant risk to the rest of the ship...

"Sargeant, your opinion?" He asked the Howling Griffon.


OOC: Should I? This means i could reach the suicide kings faster. *has an actual map drawn*

The trap was unleashed. the shaped of four massive Nobz in Mega Armor came lumbering along, two at each end of the hallway. The Shoota's attached to their armor blazed old fashion bullets down on the assembled troopers, taking some in the gunfire, but when one of them jammed, the Redeemers were quick to take advantage. They leaped up and focused fire, melting one of the massive armored monstrosities to slag in seconds, and switched fire to the other one. It to succombed to the Hellguns, and on the toehr side the regulers had succeded in blowing one away, and forcing the last one into retreat. Before it could even get far, there was the cry of "WAAAAAGH!", and the next wave came, twice as thick as before. Ork guns blazed in sheer numbers at the troopers, but they held on doggedly, knowing the price of failure. Orks screamed and died, hurling themsleves into melee range where they would quickly tear apart the hapless humans with no mercy, but the stormtroopers were able to keep them back. Any that got too close met the Bolt Pistol of Kefka, or his Powered Fist. This time the swarm seemed endless, and they seemed to get closer and closer with each passing second. Gunfire balzed both ways, with the inferior number of Stormtroopers keeping back vastly superior numbers of orks, yet it never seemed enough. They kept coming endlessly, until the gunfire turned into a dirge of death, and they knew that if any of them stopped singing, they would all die...

Only part of the message came through to the Suicide Kings vox unit. It was mostly melted by now, and combined with the ferocious gun battle taking place in the room, all the soldiers heard was some mumbling coming from behind them. They had much more important things to worry about.

"Here they come!" someone yelled. A wall of Orks charged from behind their laser-riddled cover.

Petrikov rose. "Suicide Kings, hold the line!" He thrust his chain sword into the air. "For the love of the Emperor, kill them all! Open fire!"

There was a deafening roar as the Suicide Kings battle cry met the Ork WAAGH!

Then a hail of fire drowned it all out.

Petrikov fired indiscriminately into the crowd of charging Orks. His troops emerged from their hell-blasted positions and fired full-auto. The whole first line of Orks fell to their fire.

With a hiss, Private Lance switched on the flamer. "Light it up!"

A billowing a jet of flame poured forth, engulfing at least 10 Orks in burning fuel.

As Petrikov slapped in a new clip, he realized that the Orks would reach their lines this time.