WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!
The air trembled with the thunder and fury of war. From the outer bunkers to the anti-aircraft gun spires at the fortress's center, the outcome was already obvious—the Greenskins would tear this ancient fortress to pieces.
The dry atmosphere vibrated with the roars of countless Ork throats, iron boots pounding the earth, and the thunder of heavy weapons.
Even within her sealed cockpit, Lady Yamila of House Alexei, chief pilot of the Civic Temple, seemed able to feel the Orks' savage wildness becoming a physical force in the air around her.
Even the scanners could not calculate the number of enemies currently near Sanctuary Gate.
"They'll launch another attack soon."
The second son of House Alexei, Yamila's late husband's younger brother, shouted over the comm channel.
"I'm coming to support you and Father."
"You shouldn't do that."
Yamila said sharply, checking the position of his mech with the locator—he was still at his assigned post. The nineteen-year-old boy had always been enthusiastic, but he often acted rashly.
"I ordered you to hold that sector, understand?"
"Do as your sister-in-law says."
Old Alexei, one of the five members of the Civic Council, cut into the transmission.
"She has faced worse than this."
It was a lie. They all knew it, but it was enough to silence him.
Yamila then opened a private channel to contact Old Alexei.
"If we lose Sanctuary Gate, you must have Mishil withdraw to the hangar. He still has a chance to leave."
"I understand."
Old Alexei answered, and then his voice was cut off and distorted by the sounds of battle.
Yamila said nothing more. She took a deep breath and felt the gate ahead trembling.
Even the mech beneath her began to shake along with it.
What she piloted now was no longer one