An unstoppable force meets an immovable object

The members of Fourth Company's Third Squad mounted their Jetbikes.

There were eight of them, each with his own anti-grav Motorcycle, and everyone had modified their Motorcycle to suit their tastes.

Evan had replaced his promethium flamethrower's nozzle with twin nozzles mounted on either side. Why not mount them right at the front? Mostly because the boys rode so fast that firing the flamethrower would blast the flames back into their own faces.

Gajie secured his Lasgun. Until the bike stopped, he had decided to use a Bolter. He had also taken apart the leather straps holding Evan's "twin-linked" Bolters together and stolen one for himself.

After solemnly handing his twin-linked Boltgun to the Imperialis Militia, the last Primaris Space Marine set off with a Plasma Cannon. Evan had always been reluctant to say his name, mainly because it translated as Shi Zhengxiang. Read aloud in Chinese, it had a certain... aroma.

Their squad leader, William, broke with his usual habits and brought only a Bolter and Melta Bombs. He also handed out several bombs to each of them.

"The point of street racing-pah, tactical raiding-isn't to smash the enemy's formation into chaos. It's to find their important targets. Blow up the small ones and call in an orbital bombardment on the big ones."

The squad leader patiently instructed the three newest Primaris Space Marines. This battlefield offered excellent practical experience, especially the coming raid, which embodied the combat wisdom accumulated throughout the Chapter's history, all the way back to its days as a Legion.

Without further chatter, eight grav-bikes roared down the mountain's sheer cliff. None of them intended to slow down; they pushed their thrust to maximum from the start. The squad leader led the way, followed by Charles. Normally, their deputy leader, Kshevich, should have brought up the rear, but Evan took that position because his flamethrower was rather heavy.

The first three Motorcycles formed a simple triangle, their rudimentary wedge driving straight into the enemy's weak point. William, at the very front, rarely used his Bolter. He simply swung his Chainsword to cut down any Orks who came too close.

"Watch your ammunition, brothers. These ordinary Orks aren't worth wasting our firepower on."

Evan switched off his flamethrower as well. No Ork could keep up with their speed.

Soon-and fast, in both senses of the word-the members of Third Squad had broken through the Ork horde and were racing across an endless ice field. Their assigned reconnaissance zone was the A9C1 Region, an area consisting almost entirely of flat ice fields, with the occasional low snow-covered hill. Analysis from the warship's Auspex suggested there were scarcely any Orks on the surface; they hated cold, barren places like this. Underground, however, there seemed to be strange energy signatures. Third Squad had to watch for entrances hidden beneath the snow.

The extreme speed swiftly triggered the release of hormones that kept the Astartes calm. Although the White Scars led by the Khan appeared savage and crude, they were wise warriors with keen senses. Even the great Emperor had called them "born scouts."

Ferocious combat was a hallmark of every Astartes, but each had his own particular strengths. White Scars warriors possessed exceptionally acute perception; they could even make out incoming bolts. They also cared for the environment and disliked weapons that caused permanent environmental damage, such as nuclear bombs or Warp Rifts. This was also where the rumors calling them children of nature had originated.

The Imperial Fists and their successor Chapters possessed extraordinarily powerful fighting wills, rock-solid and indestructible. Of all the Astartes, they were the least susceptible to the temptations of the Warp's dark gods. The Imperial Fists' original duty had been to guard Terra forever, making them effectively an outer-palace counterpart to the Adeptus Custodes. Unfortunately, the Imperial Fists Chapter had been almost entirely wiped out in the last great war on Terra. The current Imperial Fists were all new Astartes, lacking all their former Chapter culture and several special rites.

The Shadow Blades' parent Chapter was the Iron Hands, whose internal divisions were extremely severe. They largely united around individual clans, with ten clans acting together. They had no Chapter Master, substituting a council of the ten clans instead. This effectively prevented a large portion of their strength from turning traitor, but it also deepened their internal divisions.

They generally believed that flesh was weak and transcendence lay in machinery, replacing large portions of their bodies with mechanical parts. They therefore enjoyed good relations with the Adeptus Mechanicus. Of course, different factions of the Adeptus Mechanicus followed different doctrines, and spreading those doctrines within the same Iron Hands Chapter only aggravated its divisions.

At that moment, these two Chapters were launching a frontal counterattack against the Ork horde before the Hive City. The steel tide had forcibly pushed the surging waves of Orks back thirty kilometers. After receiving the vast quantities of war machines deployed by the Storm Will, the Shadow Blades could finally fight a battle with resources to spare.

As the Chapter most skilled in mechanized warfare, they had spent their days short of ammunition and fuel, calculating every scrap of supplies they expended. They could not even bring themselves to unleash a full artillery barrage. The Green Templars, who had arrived first to reinforce them, were hardly wealthy either. Not only did they have few heavy war machines, but they almost never fought defensive sieges and had little equipment specifically intended to defend cities. This had made the Hive City's initial defense extremely difficult.

Now the rich boys had arrived! The Storm Will had come with dozens of Baneblades and Leman Russ Tanks. They could use whatever machines they wanted and fire all the ammunition they pleased. Eighty-seven years-it had been eighty-seven whole years since they had fought with this much to spare.

The sons of Ferrus Manus-the Primarch of the X Legion, the Iron Hands, was named Ferrus Manus-happily commanded their Imperialis Militia. Previously, the Shadow Blades had left their Imperialis Militia aboard their warships because they needed to make the most of every weapon on the battlefield. Now that was no longer necessary.

The Imperialis Militia, who likewise had not enjoyed the chance to fire freely for eighty-seven years, demonstrated exceptional combat proficiency from the outset. Their accurate shelling rivaled the elite artillery crews of the Death Korps of Krieg, swiftly destroying the enemy's heavy armored targets.

Watching the rapidly advancing front, the Storm Will could not help feeling impressed. Had their own people operated these weapons, achieving such a terrifying rate of advance would have required at least eight hundred Astartes, or three times as many Imperialis Militia. Yet how many did the Shadow Blades have? A battered force of just over two hundred Astartes and militia who had not touched artillery in years.

At that moment, Boomblasta, who had been appointed the Orks' overall battlefield commander, arrived at the front in his freshly built Gorkanaut, leading a mob of Killa Kans.

Enemies met, and fury flared. The eighteen barrels of the Deathstorm Assault Cannon on the Gork Dreadnought's right arm instantly unleashed astonishing firepower, turning the leading Leman Russ Eradicator Tank into a sieve. The Gork Power Klaw on its armored left arm swiftly grabbed a large boulder and hurled it, flattening a Chimera armored transport behind the lines.

The Storm Will Chapter took one look. Getting above yourself, are you? One Gork Dreadnought, and you think you can swagger around like that? So, immediately, instantly, without delay... they called in an orbital bombardment.

Seriously, this thing was built to hunt Titan-class war machines. It was equipped with a massive invulnerability field, broad enough to cover every Killa Kan around it. Ordinary shellfire could not even overload its field.

The steel tide swiftly concentrated its fire on the ground before the Gork Dreadnought, blasting out an enormous, extremely deep trench. Then they released smoke and withdrew in good order.

All the Astartes and infantry units withdrew behind the tanks, and every tank deployed its stabilizing anchors. Normally used to improve accuracy during stationary bombardments, these securing devices now served to resist the shock wave of the massive explosion that was about to come.

The Orks paid no attention to what their opponents were doing. They only wanted to charge in and have a proper waaaaaagh. The killing machines were piloted by cowardly Gretchin, however, and climbing inside their killing cans had not changed their habits. Providing fire support from somewhere far away from the enemy was still their favorite activity.

They did not recklessly rush forward, instead following the Gork Dreadnought. After all, they were used to following the Big Boss's waaaaaaaagh field. Ordinary Orks had no such reservations. They charged into the deep trench and began clambering across. Smoke? Who cared? Just charge.

Orks were the happiest species in the galaxy. To them, fighting was the greatest joy of all.

An immense lance beam descended like the Emperor's sacred sword of punishment. Its radiance fell, and the whole world darkened. Then came Macro-cannon fire and strategic bombardment, the enormous shells blasting the surrounding earth thousands of meters into the sky. Another lance strike provided the finishing touch.

Seriously, I've got three Battle Barges and three Strike Cruisers overhead. Why would I fight you with bayonets?

The good news was that the charging Big Boss, along with the Boyz and Gretchin following him, had all become fertilizer.

The bad news was that the Gork Dreadnought was still alive, though it had been hammered into the ground.

The good news was that the Gretchin inside the killing machines had been scared witless and scattered in every direction.

The bad news was that the fleet's orbital weapons needed to recharge and could not strike again for a while.

The good news was that the Gork Dreadnought's field had burned out and was pouring out thick black smoke.

The bad news was that the orbital strike had been so powerful that quite a few of their own troops had been knocked sprawling.

Equal parts good and bad meant a fifty-percent chance of victory. Round that up, and the enemy died while they lived. This battle was as good as won.

"Exterminate the xenos! Eternal victory to the Emperor!"

Kargas Bel, Chapter Master of the Storm Will, gave the order to charge. Burning with fury, the Astartes warriors rushed at the enemy, swearing to deliver the Emperor's punishment.

The Shadow Blades swiftly ordered the Leman Russ Tanks and Baneblades into action. "Rapid fire, three-round bursts. Fire!"

Shellfire fell like a rain of stars, buying the Astartes time to advance. The Gork Dreadnought was tough, but the powerful kinetic impacts still prevented it from aiming. Its eighteen-barreled Deathstorm Assault Cannon fired wildly as the machine rocked under the barrage.

Leading the charge were the Storm Will's Cataphractii-pattern Tactical Dreadnoughts-Terminators. As the most heavily protected model of Terminator armour, fielded by a Chapter that excelled at defense, these exceptionally tough suits worn by First Company veterans could withstand several successive hits from the Deathstorm Assault Cannon. That was without even considering that it could no longer aim.

"One hundred meters. Seventy-five meters. Fifty meters. Twenty-five meters." The shelling had stopped now, and both sides prepared for close combat. The Gork Dreadnought raised its Gork Power Klaw, while Ranger-pattern Terminators replaced the Cataphractii Terminators at the head of the Astartes charge.

The Ranger pattern had originally been Mark VIII Power Armour, one of the few ordinary Power Armour designs capable of mounting shield modules in its high shoulder guards. But it was too expensive and had been abandoned after the invention of the superior Mark X Power Armour.

Some members of the Adeptus Mechanicus, however, thought they could tinker with it and add frontal armour to use it as a budget Terminator suit.

At that moment, the Astartes in the second rank had quietly moved their hands to the Melta Bombs at their waists.

With an unspoken understanding, none of them wasted ammunition spraying fire.

The Gork Power Klaw crashed down, smashing one Terminator warrior so hard that his fate was uncertain. A casual sweep sent another Ranger-pattern Terminator flying.

The Astartes swiftly retaliated. Melta Cutters opened a breach in the armour, and two Melta Bombs were thrown straight through it.

Chapter Master Kargas Bel casually cut down several Gretchin fleeing through the breach. When the Melta Bombs detonated, the opening became large enough for Terminator warriors to enter. The Chapter Master charged in first, his Chainsword roaring as it swept from side to side like a dragon surging out of the water, swiftly clearing a path for the warriors behind him.

Nine Terminator veterans fought their way into the towering, sixteen-meter idol-machine, while the other warriors swiftly concentrated their fire and disabled the Hellstorm Assault Cannon.

They intended to behead the biggest Ork boss and end this war.

Even after the Astartes entered the machine, the Gork Power Klaw did not stop working. Renowned for its monstrous strength, the claw crushed one Astartes and swept aside several others attempting to enter the breach.

Inside the machine, the Astartes faced Ork Boyz, Mekboys, and Gretchin emerging from above, below, and every side. Most of the enemies carried no weapons. Armed only with wrenches and hammers, they were lambs to the slaughter. A few Mekboys carried homemade pistols, but these could not even scratch Terminator armour.

"Stop hiding, coward! Come out and fight me!"

No Ork warlord would refuse a duel with the strongest enemy warrior. That was what Chapter Master Kargas Bel believed, and his challenge reflected it.

But the one sitting inside the machine was Boomblasta. As far as Boomblasta was concerned, he was not a boss at all, just a Mek who built machines by hand with a little hammer.

As members of the Ork profession most concerned with protecting themselves, Big Meks might not keep the most powerful equipment for themselves, but they always kept the most reliable and safest.

Boomblasta slammed a yellow button, and the entire machine began beeping. Naturally, the Astartes inside, occupied with tangles of crackling wires and cables, were not alarmed.

The Astartes had made an error born of habitual thinking. Faced with Orks of this technological level, they instinctively assumed that whoever sat inside the largest, strongest, most waaaaaagh-filled idol-machine they had yet encountered must be the leader of this Ork invasion-the warlord responsible for it all.

Boomblasta opened a cover beside the instrument panel and pressed the biggest, reddest button.

With a bang, the Gork Dreadnought's enormous head was launched into the air.

The Astartes busy demolishing the power claw stared in astonishment at the flying head.

"The Chief Librarian isn't here. Since when did the Chapter Master get that strong?"

Only the Techmarine realized something was wrong. "Run!"

There was no time to react. Wearing Cataphractii Terminator armour, the Techmarine grabbed the Storm Will Chapter's Chief Apothecary and pulled him behind himself.

Boom! A world-shaking explosion raised an enormous mushroom cloud, clearly visible even to the warships in space. The captains of the three Battle Barges waiting in orbit for their next bombardment urgently tried to contact their Chapter Masters.

The Gorkanaut's energy core had been destroyed by a prearranged bomb, triggering an immense secondary explosion that blasted away every Ork and Gretchin aboard, along with all the Space Marine tin cans inside and outside it.

Several steel plates swiftly fell away from the ears of the ejected Gork Dreadnought's head carrying Boomblasta, and a pair of paragliding wings unfolded from within. A small propeller appeared on top of the mechanical head. The Flying Head emergency escape craft clanked and chugged toward the Orks' main camp-the Iron Mine Factory Base.

Big Mek Boomblasta had completed the greatest waaaaaagh of his life-no, his Ork career. Even the current Ork warlord, Mistanbol, had no achievements as glorious as his.

"I blew up a whole squad of big tin cans! Hahahaha! Waaaaagh!" His battle cry drifted through the dim skies of Atris. (Orks called weak humans, or similar creatures smaller than themselves, "humies.")

Among the ruins, the arriving Space Marines swiftly began digging. They repeatedly unearthed severed limbs from Ranger-pattern Terminators. These suits of Terminator armour, merely Mark VIII Power Armour with built-in shields and additional heavy plating, were cheap and agile, but their protection was far too uneven.

The search area extended well beyond the spot where the Gork Dreadnought had stood. Large numbers of nearby Astartes had also been hurled away by the shock wave. The Shadow Venom Blade Chapter, which had been providing artillery support from behind, swiftly arrived to help. Their partly mechanical bodies made it easier to dig through the wreckage strewn across the ground.

"Here! Over here!" A Storm Will warrior shouted to the battle-brothers arriving to help. The communications channel inside his combat helmet was filled with buzzing, so he had no choice but to take it off and shout at the top of his lungs.

An Astartes wearing Cataphractii Terminator armour was dug out, gravely wounded and unconscious. He had been the last Terminator warrior to enter. Even a mighty First Company veteran like him had lost consciousness. The Chief Apothecary and several Apothecary Aspirants swiftly began treatment.

Excavation proceeded rapidly, and the Astartes who had been blown away gradually returned to their units. Thanks to the rapid recovery granted by their enhancements, all their minor injuries could quickly heal on their own. After a short rest, they joined the search as well, because their Chapter Master had not yet been found.

Finally, Chapter Master Kargas Bel was dug out. The front of his Cataphractii Terminator armour had been blown to pieces. With blessings inscribed on its inner layer and an exquisite Aquila emblem carved into its breastplate, the armour had failed to protect its master. Now it had become a death sentence instead, countless fragments embedded in his flesh and dark red blood everywhere. The Chief Apothecary swiftly protected him with a Stasis Field and called an orbiting vessel to take him back to the Chapter's flagship.

The final tally showed that all six Ranger-pattern Terminator warriors who had entered the Gork Dreadnought had been killed, while the three Cataphractii Terminator warriors, including the Chapter Master, had been gravely wounded. Nearby, three Ranger-pattern Terminator warriors and two warriors in ordinary Power Armour had died; eleven Ranger-pattern Terminator warriors, three Cataphractii Terminator warriors, and eighteen warriors in ordinary Power Armour had suffered severe injuries. These devastating casualties among forty-six Astartes plunged the entire Storm Will Chapter into extreme fury.

With the Chapter Master and First Company captain gravely wounded and unconscious, command passed to Skaro, captain of Second Company.

When Deika, Chapter Master of the Green Templars, heard this terrible news while hunting the scattered Killa Kans, he immediately ordered the hundred-plus Astartes under his command to stop conserving ammunition and annihilate every enemy in sight.

They swore to avenge this blood debt, or forfeit their humanity.