Warhammer: Lord of the Endless Monster Horde Chapter 539 538: Scuttling the Ork Ship; Ork Planetfall

With a screech of tearing tal, the Thunderhawk's ramp dropped. Second Company Captain Tokas leapt first, his power sword carving a blue arc in the dim hold.

Three Ork boyz lost their heads before their weapons rose.

"Form the line! Purifiers, lock down the left corridor!"

Tokas' voice rang over comms. Dozens of Mk X-clad Astartes ford a wedge. Bolter thunder shook the narrow steel halls.

Saint Celestine raised her flar; holy fire engulfed the onrushing Orks. "The heretic shall be purged!" her voice bood through her vox-grille, cold as steel.

Suddenly the ship shuddered. With a deafening WAAAGH, a three-ter Ork warboss smashed through the bulkhead, his scrap-built power klaw crackling, cleaving a Battle Sister in half.

"Warboss! Focus fire!" Tokas commanded. Five plasma guns spat, but the warboss's haphazard armor plates miraculously deflected most hits.

"Humie tin cans!" Warboss Gromm howled, his klaw sweeping two Astartes aside. " big iron's da best!"

Cackling, he reveled in the fight he'd long craved. These tin cans people were bigger and stronger than usual—glorious battle.

The two knocked-back Ultramarines surged up again. Primaris enhancents pushed them near Custodian baseline.

A warboss's charge alone wouldn't break them. Chainswords snarled as they countercharged.

Gromm's klaw clashed with roaring teeth of adamantine, sparks geysered, the shriek of tal on tal cutting the air.

The two Ultramarines coordinated perfectly—left feinted low, right's storm shield blasted ionic thrust into Gromm's exposed waist. He staggered.

"WAAAGH!" Gromm bellowed.

He recovered in a heartbeat, grinning a maw of fangs as his klaw crackled harder. "You hit good! But not WAAAGH enough!"

He stomped, buckling the deck. The two Astartes gave ground.

"Reform, suppress!" Tokas arrived, calmly firing his bolt pistol—precise shots to the head. Gromm jerked aside; a few rounds sparked off his plates.

Then Saint Celestine swept in from the flank, power blade smashing into Gromm's knee. "By the Holy Emperor—kneel, xenos!"

"Argh—!" Gromm dropped to one knee; a leg severed. He swept the Saint back with his klaw.

He was late by a beat. The two Astartes struck, chainswords biting.

Crack!

Teeth chewed steel and flesh; Gromm's left-arm plates tore; green blood sprayed.

He only grew wilder. Orks regenerate fast. Even one leg down and both arms wounded, he fought on.

His right klaw seized an Astartes' chestplate and slamd him into the wall.

Crash!

Sparks flew, but the Marine rebounded, drove a tal fist up into Gromm's jaw, knocking fangs loose. The warboss only laughed harder. "WAAAGH!!" He yanked a crude bomb from his belt and thumbed the igniter.

If he was going to die, he'd take so with him—go see Gork and Mork together.

"Grenade!" Tokas barked. Marines flared shields. Celestine fell back, throwing a wall of fire to blunt the blast.

BOOM!!!

The corridor convulsed. Smoke and fla swallowed all. A green shadow fled.

When the smoke thinned, Gromm was gone, leaving green blood and shattered plates.

"Target withdrew?" an Astartes reported, surprised the seemingly unkillable warboss had fled.

"Cunning greenskin," a Sister muttered.

"No—he's regrouping," Tokas said, eyes on bio-teletry. "Warbosses don't flee. They bring bigger trouble."

The Ultramarines knew their foe—crude, but cunning.

Sure enough, a techmarine's urgent vox ca through: "Captain, mass green signatures! They're swarming up from the lower decks!"

"Prepare to receive!" Tokas gripped his power blade, the disruption field humming.

"Purifiers, fortify. Saint, we need your fla to seal the choke."

"For the Emperor. The xenos shall burn," Celestine answered, her prothium canisters thrumming.

From the dark ca a rising tide of war cries, the deck plating trembling under a thousand boots.

WAAAGH!!! WAAAGH!!! The greenskins surged.

Tokas snapped orders: "Third Squad—ltas! Saint, cover!"

She nodded. The Sisters reford, a dense line of bolters holding the charge for precious seconds.

In that window, the Astartes planted lta charges at critical structural nodes—intent on scuttling the Ork ship.

With the charges set, they prepared to withdraw.

"Retreat route marked! All units egress on plan!" Tokas hacked down a lunging Ork and gave the order.

"Move, sisters! Charges imminent!" Marines and Sisters fell back in order to their craft.

Embarked, they laid down a killing curtain to stall the green tide.

As the last warrior boarded the Thunderhawk, the lta charges detonated on cue.

A chain of blasts tore through the Ork flagship. In his final mont, Gromm was still laughing: "Gork 'n' Mork are watch—BOOM! BOOM!"

The warboss didn't escape—off to et his gods in the Immaterium. The watcher Rhodes hoped Gork or Mork would indeed notice him.

The Ultramarines had hit hard—perhaps Rhodes wouldn't need to intervene against the Orks at all.

A vast fireball blossod in space, the shockwave flipping nearby Ork escorts.

Thunderhawks arced away on blue tails, while the chain-reaction consud the Ork ship behind them.

A perfect strike—warboss crippled, flagship destroyed.

Watching from his flagship, Vice-Commander Calgar ordered, "All ships, concentrate fire on the leaderless Ork fleet!"

Now was the mont. With command gone, the Ork flotilla was ripe for rout.

The Apocalypse's main guns recharged. Golden pedanium rays swept the field like divine wrath. Ork junkers vaporized by the score.

Leaderless, the Orks fell into chaos. So ships fired on each other; others charged blindly to die. The fleet reeled.

Even so, Ork forces reached Vigilus's skies. Waves of Ork drop-pods—asteroids hamred into rough capsules—fell randomly toward the surface.

These pods had no stability. Whether the boyz landed safely depended on luck—or Gork and Mork.

The first pods slamd down—only to et twenty Ultramarine companies and local troops in full readiness.

They watched as at least half the pods and their passengers smashed into the ground and blossod into fireworks.

Even losing half their landing force, masses of greenskins still made planetfall—and the dead Orks' spores would soon flourish across the world.