C. Goto - Dawn of War

As the rocket flared and propelled Fartzek into the air, he let out a gurgling cry and the stormboyz stamped their feet into the trampled earth in response. The huge ork arced through a shallow curve, rattling his slugga as he flew over the heads of his brethren. After a couple of seconds he slammed into the side of one of the metal stompers, smashing his choppa into an armoured plate to ensure purchase. The human inside the machine leaned out of the cockpit, eyes wide with horror, and Fartzek cackled into his face with a malicious and mirth-filled snarl. Then, without even the slightest hesitation, he detonated the warhead on the rocket.

Sergeant Katrn watched Mavo’s Sentinel explode, ducking back into the crater to avoid the waves of concussion that radiated out from the destruction. Mavo had only been in the field for a few seconds.

Most of the Armoured Fists were already scrambling out of the other side of the crater, tripping and crawling their way though the rain of debris towards the port buildings. Katrn scampered after them, hunched over in the crazy belief that he would be safer that way.

A series of tremendous impacts smacked into the ground between the Armoured Fists and their objective. They all fell flat to the ground and waited for the explosions to shred them, but the detonations never came.

Lying prostrate on the rumble-strewn deck, Katrn stole a glance towards the point of impact. A group of three steaming drop-pods sat imperviously on the rockcrete in front of him, errant ork fire ricocheting harmlessly off their armoured plates. With a deep metallic clunk and then a hiss of decompression, hatches began to open on each of the pods.

Striding confidently from the steam-shrouded doors nearest to Katrn came a huge warrior, fully two metres tall, bedecked in shining red power armour. As he cleared the cloud of steam, the massive warrior turned his head calmly from side to side, taking in the scene, his green eyes flickering with calculation and thought. The figure made no attempt to take cover from the hail of fire that rattled through the spaceport towards him.

Katrn’s jaw dropped in awe as he realised what these monstrous warriors were. They were the Adeptus Astartes-the Emperor’s Space Marines. These soldiers were hand-picked from the elite of the galaxy’s fighting men and then surgically augmented for years until they were finally implanted with a black carapace that ran under their entire skin, permitting them to interface completely with the ancient power armour that enwrapped them like a second skin. Katrn had heard the legends, but he never thought that he would live to actually see one.

Similar figures emerged from each of the other pods, and several more followed from the first pod, behind the eerily calm soldier. They deployed immediately into a wide fan around the first figure, the green eye-visors of their helmets scanning the spaceport and the battle on its edge, their boltguns already primed and trained on possible targets.

“Space Marines…” muttered Katrn to himself, unsure whether to celebrate their arrival or to hide back in the crater behind him.

The first Marine was the only one without a helmet, and Katrn couldn’t help but cringe away from his eyes as they caught sight of him lying in the rubble, clearly attempting to flee the battle. The Space Marine looked him up and down in undisguised disgust then waved an order to his squad.

Without a word, the crimson-armoured Space Marines broke into a run and pounded across the space port towards the thickest and most ferocious point of the front line. They vaulted over the mortar craters with single strides, spraying precision bolter shells from their guns with each step. Already the Tartarans who had held their positions were cheering with renewed energy as the bolter fire streaked over their heads and punched into the orks, driving them back for the first time.

Sergeant Katrn watched the Marines bound over his head and then launch themselves into the fray with selfless abandon, and he slid back down into the crater, struggling to catch his breath. He could still see those piercing green eyes accusing him of treachery and cowardice. He could see the disgust and the revilement, and he shared it. He was a coward, unworthy of the proud uniform of the Tartarans. He had presented the Blood Ravens with their first sight of his regiment: crawling, snivelling cowards sneaking away from their deaths like traitors.

But he was not dead yet, and he would show them what a Tartaran could really do. Katrn sprang to his feet and jumped clear of the crater. Pumping his rifle from side to side as he ran, building his momentum, he sprinted back across the deck in the wake of the Space Marines, screaming the air out of his lungs.

“For Tartarus and the Emperor!”

Still lurking at the rear of the battlefield, Orkamungus beckoned to one of the nobz in his bodyguard, Brutuz, who slunk over to his warboss with justified trepidation. The giant ork was casually staring into the sky above the spaceport, watching the rain of drop-pods as they flashed down through the atmosphere like meteorites.

Brutuz presented himself to the warboss, already flinching in anticipation of the strike. For a moment, he was saved as something caught Orkamungus’ eye. Gruntz and the kommandos had skirted the edge of the battlefield and the warboss could see them slipping around the perimeter of the spaceport towards the city of Magna Bonum beyond.

Orkamungus cackled deeply, baubles of phlegm bubbling in his massive oesophagus. He stomped forwards to the edge of the wartrukk and leant down to Brutuz, slapping him firmly on the back, causing the nob to spit in relieved shock.

The warboss pulled himself back up to his full height and roared his war-cry across the battlefield, “Waaaaaaaaagh!” Hundreds of orks turned their eyes to him as they stumbled and lumbered away from the Space Marines. For a moment they were caught between fear of the Emperor’s sword at their heels and terror at the wrath of their warboss. But it was only for a moment, and then they kept running.

Brutuz turned quietly and started to walk away from the wartrukk, hoping that Orkamungus had finished with him. He had taken only two steps when the warboss leapt from the side of his trukk and smashed down onto Brutuz, squashing him flat against the earth under his awesome weight. Then, sitting on the nob’s back, pinning him against the ground, Orkamungus beat the hapless ork repeatedly in the head until he was sure that he had made his point.

In the thick of the fighting on the front line, an axe flashed down a fraction too late as Brom rocked onto his back foot, unleashing a spray from his hellgun at close range. As the ork smashed its weapon into the deck the blade caught in the rockcrete and the creature roared with frustration. Brom’s hail of fire strafed up the ork’s bulging abdomen, riddling it with holes.

The colonel sighed slightly, propping himself up on the barrel of his gun for a moment, before hefting it once again and opening up at yet another of the greenskinned beasts.

All around him was the constant roar of battle. He could hear the cries of his sergeants rallying the troopers against wave after wave of ork assaults, and he could hear the screams of men as they fell beneath the monstrous blows from the inhuman creatures. Explosions filled the air with concussions and the ground shook under the constant impacts of mortars, grenades and rockets.

“Colonel!” cried Ckrius, staring in horror at Brom as his hellgun coughed savagely into the gut of a charging ork, dropping it to the ground amidst squeals of frustration.

Brom stole a glance at Ckrius, but he couldn’t tell what the trooper was trying to tell him.

A projectile zipped over the colonel’s head-Brom could feel the heated air sizzle as it shrieked past him, singeing his closely cropped white hair. He turned his head, following the flight of the bolter shell as it punched into the face of the ork behind him. The creature was already riddled with gunshot wounds all the way down its chest, but it had freed its axe from the rockcrete and was holding it high in the air, ready to hack down into Brom’s back. The bolter shell buried itself into the beast’s skull and then exploded into tiny lacerating fragments that shredded the thick bone instantly.