C. Goto - Dawn of War

“Now, if you will excuse us, we will take our leave. I… respectfully request that you keep the Blood Ravens busy for as long as you can,” said Sindri, bowing slightly in mock grandeur.

“Bah! We’ze keep dem more dan buzy. We’ze keep dem dead!” spat Orkamungus, stomping his foot down into the wet ground with a tremendous splash, missing Berzek’s still-gasping head by fractions.

Disappearing into the shadows of the forest, the Alpha Legion squad moved rapidly towards their extraction point. The legionaries were fanned out around Sindri and Bale, defining a perimeter that bristled with barrels and blades. They were alert and focussed, just like their delusional brothers in the Adeptus Astartes, but they were also liberated from the pathetic constraints of the Imperial creed. The orks may have been their allies, but they knew better than to underestimate the green-skins’ hatred towards humans. All humans. The legionaries scanned the forest for signs of an ambush.

“The thought of kowtowing to these filthy creatures disgusts me,” said Bale, his voice rich with anger. “I hope you know what you’re doing, sorcerer. Otherwise, I will throw you to them as a personal gift.” The Chaos lord was storming through the foliage, lost in the intensity of his own repulsion.

“The orks are a tool, my lord, nothing more,” said Sindri smoothly, keeping pace with Bale. “And quite an effective one, I might add.”

“Perhaps,” coughed Bale, stopping abruptly and turning suddenly to grasp Sindri by the neck. “But I dislike providing such unpredictable aliens with our own weaponry.”

“Lord Bale,” managed Sindri between gulps of air. “Orks are not unpredictable. Quite the contrary.” The grip around his neck loosened and he dropped to the ground. Bale snorted roughly and started back towards the waiting drop-ship. Sindri rushed after him, abject, humiliated and fuming inside. “You can rely on them to turn against you. But they will honour their agreement for as long as we can provide them with enemies to satisfy their lust for battle.”

“There are other ways to make people do as you please,” answered Bale with off-handed ferocity. “Ways more appropriate to warriors of the Alpha Legion. If we intimidated them with our strength, then they would take pause before betraying us.”

“But my lord, you cannot intimidate something that knows nothing of fear.”

“I can teach them to fear the Alpha Legion, sorcerer,” countered Bale with calm certainty. “Just as I have taught hundreds of worlds to tremble at our name.”

“My lord, trouble yourself no longer with these orks. They will serve their purpose. Already the pathetic Imperials will be heading for Lloovre Marr, in pursuit of the mob. We will have what we came for and be gone before the orks finish off the Imperials and turn on us.”

“The Blood Ravens are not fools, Sindri. The Alpha Legion have had dealings with them before. You risk underestimating our allies and our enemies, sorcerer, and that is not the kind of wisdom I need from you,” said Bale as he climbed up into the hatch of the drop-ship.

Berzek spat a fountain of mud and blood out of his gaping mouth as he lay imprinted into the fecund earth. He looked up at the huge form of his warboss, and watched him foaming at the mouth. The immense ork was on the verge of catatonia, and Berzek didn’t know whether to speak or to attempt to slither away. If he said the wrong thing, he would be stomped. If he said nothing, he could be stomped anyway. Orkamungus was one massively stompy ork.

“Why’ze we talkin’ wit dem humies, boss? Why’ze we no fight wit dem good?” said Berzek from amidst a mouthful of swamp. His decision was made.

Orkamungus looked down at him in surprise, as thought he’d forgotten all about him, or perhaps the boss simply assumed that the grunt had died.

“Dem smelly Chaos-boyz iz weak. Not nearly enuff of a challenge for orkz boyz. If dey were strong like orkz, dey no need us ta fight for dem.

“We’ze takin’ dere guns and dere help and, when we’ze done choppin’ up all the otha humies, we’ze comin’ back here to chop dem up az well,” said Orkamungus with surprising composure.

“Dat plan’z a good’un, boss,” offered Berzek in relief, as he realised that he was still alive.

Through the shifting shadows of the foliage, Flaetriu flashed a signal to Kreusaur on the other side of the clearing. The rangers had been keeping their eyes on the ork camp when the Chaos Marines had dropped in, making sure that the stinking greenskins were not about to stray into the farseer’s plans, and they had quickly melted further back into the forest to observe the events that unfolded. Now, with half of the Alpha Legion squad already in the drop-ship, the rangers could contain their disgust no longer.

As one, the rangers opened up with their shuriken catapults, transforming the clearing into a mist of tiny, hissing projectiles. The air was perforated by the rattles of rapid impacts against the power armour of a clutch of Chaos Marines, who dived for cover behind the hatch of the drop-ship. But there was no cover, because the eldar had the clearing surrounded.

“Orks?” bellowed a rumbling voice from inside the drop-ship, and thunderous footfalls could be heard storming back down the ramp.

“No, my lord,” hissed Sindri, who was still on the ground. He turned his head slowly, taking in every shadow in the tree-line, apparently oblivious to the hail of lethal molecules that were hurtling about the glade.

“How many?” asked Bale as he leapt from the top of the ramp and thumped into the ground next to the sorcerer, his huge scythe glowing with thirst.

“Two, I think,” replied Sindri as his eyes settled on those of the invisible Flaetriu. “Two eldar.”

The sorcerer stabbed his force staff into the turf and sent an arc of purple energy sizzling through the canopy. It smashed into a tree, which burst into incandescence instantly. But the ranger was already gone.

“Two? Where are they?” asked Bale, his head snapping from side to side as the incessant shuriken bounced and ricocheted off the armoured plating on the drop-ship, giving the impression that the eldar were everywhere at once. He couldn’t see them.

Sindri ignored Lord Bale and lashed out with another bolt of lightning that incinerated another tree and brought a scream of frustration from the mouth of the sorcerer.

A wail of pain made them turn, just in time to see one of their Marines shredded by a focussed barrage of shuriken projectiles. He was riddled with tiny holes all across his abdomen, as though each of his major organs and both of his hearts had been shot through. He had fallen forwards onto his knees and blood was pouring out of the joints in his armour, from around the edges of his shattered helmet, and from the hundreds of tiny wounds all over his body.

Bale took a step towards him and swung his scythe cleanly through the Marine’s neck, taking his head off with a single strike. “Silence!” he yelled, still searching the tree-line for signs of movement.

A series of heavier impacts suddenly strafed across the ground towards Bale’s feet, coughing up little divots with each strike. They weren’t shuriken hits, it was bolter fire. Bale spun to face the other side of the clearing and saw a squad of Blood Ravens scouts burst through the thicket with their boltguns blazing.

The Alpha Legionaries responded instantly, turning their guns onto these new targets and rolling for positions of cover behind rocks and the ramp of the drop-ship. Bale howled with relief-at last he had enemies that he could see-enemies he could kill. Without any regard for the torrent of bolter shells that whistled and streaked past him in both directions, Bale broke into a run, charging through the crossfire at the Blood Ravens scouts with his scythe whirling round his head.