"WAAAAAAAAAAGH—!!!!!"
The green tide battered the Eighty-Third Expedition Fleet's already wavering steel Defense Line with even greater ferocity and reckless abandon.
The Orks' attacks were crude and chaotic, yet their sheer numbers and madness made them exceptionally deadly.
More mountain-sized masses of metallic junk and crude shells hurtled from ramshackle launchers, trailing filthy exhaust as they rained down on the Imperium's warships like meteors.
The Fleet's point-defense systems had been pushed to their limits. Thousands of Anti-Aircraft Emplacements spat unbroken streams of fire, weaving a searing web of death around the warships.
Countless incoming "shells" were blasted apart before they struck, scattering burning metal fragments that bloomed into brief, ugly Fireworks in the void.
But the Orks' tactics did not end there.
An even more hair-raising sight appeared: the surfaces of many high-speed junk shells and oversized missiles were densely covered in clinging Ork Boyz!
Using crude grappling hooks, adhesion devices, or simply brute strength to grip protrusions, they howled through crushing acceleration and vacuum, treating their own bodies as Drop Pods as they hurtled straight toward the Imperium's warships!
"For Gork and Mork! Charge, humies!"
"WAAAGH!!! Smash 'em to bits!"
Some Ork Boyz jumped off before impact, attempting to land directly on the decks or hulls.
Far more, however, slammed into hull plating, Turrets, or Void Shield Generators along with their "vehicles," making their "landings" amid violent explosions and the shriek of tearing metal.
That was, of course, if being smashed to pieces counted as landing.
Among the clustered point-defense Turrets along the flank of a Lunar-class cruiser, hundreds of Ork Boyz had somehow clambered beneath an automated gun emplacement that was spinning wildly and pouring a blazing barrage into the void.
Their green bodies piled atop one another like a swarm of revolting metal barnacles as they frantically