"Hm?"
As he pondered, Uquett twisted aside to evade a thrust from a greatsword and smashed his knife hilt into his opponent's face. Yet the mask somehow held without breaking, kindling his anger.
The guard staggered back, and Uquett seized the chance to close in. Gripping his blade in reverse, he drove it through a gap in the guard's waist armor, piercing both his entrails and spine.
Uquett had a feeling these guards were stalling, trading their lives to buy precious time for something deep within the palace.
Though he thoroughly enjoyed the slaughter—the scent of blood, the pulse in his veins, and the smell of scorched flesh whenever his gun punched through a body—
he still realized he could not afford to give these defenders too much time.
"Go, go, go! Ignore this trash! Let the lads behind us deal with 'em!"
So he led his troops onward, his blade severing arms and slicing open throats all along the way.
Palace guards fell around him, their blood splattering across his armor as he laughed in pure delight.
The warriors were still fighting behind him, but he had to keep pressing forward, crushing the enemy before the palace guards could halt their assault with superior numbers or some other means.
They were an airborne force, which meant reinforcements were a distant prospect.
"Black Claw Mob! Black Claw Mob! Kill these humies and follow me!"
The Orks advanced through the breach Uquett had just opened. Enemy fire swept in from every direction, only to be immediately answered by even fiercer fire. The helicopters that had unloaded their cargo rose into the air one after another, but did not leave; instead, they provided ground support with their autocannons.
Uquett was the first to charge into the main hall. Peering around a corner,