Using his momentum Sergeant Belisarius charged through the flailing chain weapons, the bloodrage at full swing. The scream of his ceramite as the blades bit into his MkVIII's gorget brought a crocodile's smile to his adrenaline torqued features.

In a wild overhand swing his power axe cleaved into the thick skull of the massive ork before him. A gout of ichor spurts from the massive gash into his helm's grille. The viscous, stinking liquid clogging it rapidly. Realizing his vastly reduced speed he heaves downwards, wedging his power axe in the ork's abdomen and rolling to the right, the pop and crackle of his armor eliciting a tendril of smoke as a the ork with what looks like a tortured plasma torch scores a gouge in his left flank.

Ripping his helm free and unholstering his bolter, the Sergeant slips on the steadily growing pool of ork blood, the large ork lazily swinging, it's eyes having rolled back into its head as it staggers drunkenly. As he slips his finger pulls the trigger and as if time slowed in this moment simply to mock him, Belisarius watches in a sobering horror as the round connects with the fuel tank on the flamethrower...

Battle A: Boarding Action

The orks between Raphael and the Mek were chewed apart by the assault cannons prodigious rate of fire and soon the Mek himself was under direct assault, heavy shells blunted by his own personal force field. The heavy bronze device on his back was sparking and shaking violently as it fought to keep the weak shield up under the assault, more terminators began to pour fire into it with their storm bolters and it finally broke down allowing the Mek to become a shredded heap of steaming gore.

With the death of the biggest killiest ork in the facility the green mob began a messy retreat, those too stuck in cut down by steady fire or smashed asunder by power fist and thunder hammers. This left only the mob of killa kans, despite their large forms and deadly power weapons they were still piloted by grots whom were tentative to engage with their master dead and the other orks fleeing. This hesitation cost them as the Captain lead the assault terminators into them with a glorious shout extorting his brothers to greatness in the Emperor's name. The kans flailing limbs were enough to critically injure one terminator and slew another for a total of three casualties. Stopping only to activate the teleporters within their fallen brothers bodies the remaining seventeen Terminators continued their advance into the bowels of the ship.

Several more lesser assaults met them along the way as they progressed but the vanguard of storm hammer and lightning claw wielding veterans quelled them without incident. Only when they disgorged into a large troop bay full of ramshackle huts would they meet significant resistance once more. The air in the hold was thick with ork spores that had failed to find suitable places to inhabit. Orks began to attack from all directions, kommandos sweeping up from the passage they had just traversed to strike those in the back, a living carpet of gretchin and squigs were herded into the captain and his men by runtherds while Mega armored nobs began to close in, using the metal huts as cover for their advance. Foremost amongst them was the ships Kaptain and Warlord. so massive was he that his own mega armor appeared to constructed from the main torso of a dreadnought. "GT EM BOYZ! Da Space Marine gits wantz a fight, we give it to em but GOOD! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Two massive power claws snapped and he waded into the fray, eyes locked with the Son's Captain. The walls of chamber rattled as over a hundred orks took up the cry.

Battle C: Kor's Fall
The twin fuel tanks on the Kommando's back detonated in a glorious blossom of death that scorched the crater and burnt the ork's bodies to nothing but ash while the Minotaur Sergeant would be spared the worst of it, his power armor keeping him safe enough from the heat though it damaged several systems and completely blackened the ceramite. Despite the beacon of action near the craters rim it went ignored by the ork forces at large, far too entranced with the host defending the Mechanicus facility.

As the strike force went blade to choppa and bolter to shoota with the orks, gun servitors began to spill out from the facilities entrance to weigh in on the fight, bolstered by a handful of techpriest who staved off their mindlock while the rest of their order dealt with the labs damage and cataloged what was stolen or damaged.

The combat nearest to Belisarius was a madhouse of slaughter where ork stormboyz had flown in to engage the Minotaurs' flank only to be intercepted by a squad of assault marines. For the moment they stood on even ground, the raw might and skill of the Astartes being blunted by the sheer number of greenskins who had rocketed in.

The ringing in his ears dulled into what sounded vaguely like a distant storm but his experience told him it was a storm of death: bolters hailing death in volleys of super-heated detonations, chainswords crackling like low thunder and the staccato of grenades and other explosions made a formless din of noise into a peerless concerto of slaughter.

This deduction was fleeting and silently Sergeant Belisarius wondered if daydreaming was a standard experience of an astartes and then snuffed the thought out. The Reclusiarch would frown upon such idleness and and order him scoured for taint by the librarians... again, the mere notion sending a chill down his spine.

Most servo systems were damaged and by some freak chance his body had kept a majority of his ammo and grenades intact, come to think of it he had tumbled through the air a distance before landing. Stripping his destroyed gear down to his tunic and pants, Belisarius approached the crumpled heap that was the ork nob.

Hands and lower extremities curled in crisped destruction and somehow still alive, the immobile ork glared accusingly at the stripped marine. The Sergeant smiled widely as he pulled the axe from the ruined remains, the wound making a sucking sound as he pulled it free, ichor-like blood oozing slowly from the partly cooked circulatory system. The axe's handle was melted slightly in some places but other than that and some black scorch marks it was functional.

"My regards, ork, you're tougher than I thought," he speaks aloud as he quickly executes the nob, the split head halves wobbling oddly from the corpse and Belisarius swears he sees the eyes still glaring and then banishes the thought.

Now virtually naked on a battlefield, Belisarius begins strapping various surviving slabs of ork 'armor' to his body. After several moments he finishes assembling his ork full plate and dons the smaller horned helm from a mostly well-done corpse. Curious, the horns are shaped just right...

The observation dispelled by the guttural barks of a nearby ork squad moving towards his position. Quickly making for his old cover he grabs three frag grenades and readies himself.

"Oye! Ya' gits," Belisarius growls at the incoming squad," dees humies is givin' us a 'ard time! Get your squig sucking arses o'er 'ere!!!"

A momentary silence ensues as his bluff sinks in.

Tink, tink, tink... is the sound the grenades make as they roll beneath the feet of the first few orks...

(OOC: Please let me know if I take too many liberties, I get carried away sometimes )

Garnash stopped suddenly and grabbed the first ‘ard boy that was charging behind him. He spun around swiftly with little red chewing through the boy’s legs, once he had completed the spin he hoisted the ‘ard boy in front of him as a shield while he charged straight at the commissar. Little red screamed louder as he approached blood from the ork spraying as the hell gun blasts flared at him.

Battle: B Rok N Roll
The disciplined ranks of Storm Troopers refused to break and fall back knowing they were all dead at this point, their first line was failing, the city nearly breached while their second line was unable to reach them for extraction. Resolving to sell their lives dearly they poured fire into those orks that were worth their time, the Commisar bellowing as he stepped forward to meet Garnash, bolt pistol bucking as it spat multiple bolts at the nobs legs before running dry and being abandoned to the slush covered ground. Power fist crackling the Imperial Agent lunged forward intending to plant the giant metal fist into the ork's face.

The cities defenses had failed utterly, the Warboss and his mob of Mega Nobz trampling those they didn't shear in half or gun down in a storm of glinting bullets. They were pressing forward toward the artillery batteries now, the few officers left yet calling down heavy fire on their own positions in an attempt to at least take the boss with them. This gambit failed and soon the destroyed vehicles would be back in the action as looted wagons.

The order to retreat came from the regiment's secondary line, there was no use in throwing their lives away for a hopeless fight and as such infantry pulled back under concentrated tank fire to their transports, the orks roaring out their joy of the slaughter that followed as the slackened gunfire allowed them to press in and hack at the backs of their foes, several more Leman Russ tanks and Chimaeras went up in flames as Tank busta boms or explosive laden bomb squigs found their mark, many of the Tank Bustas stopping the fighting to pull out the cooked corpses for a snack, seeing there was no further fight to be had. The only vestige of Imperial resistance near the Rok being the Commisar and his shrinking squads of Storm Troopers.

Battle C: Kor's Fall

[OOC: You're fine~]

Mobs were filtering into the fight from all sides of the crater now, compelled to join the slaughter below. Already a small pool of blood was forming at the sharpest dip in the crater and the fight was far from over yet. The explosion hadn't gone unnoticed by the Sergeant's brothers in arms, what normally would of been taken as a stray artillery shot was investigated by a lone tactical marine.

The chain of grenade detonations tipped him off that the not so green humanoid in ill fitting orkish armor, barring a rather finely sized helmet, was indeed a a lost brother. "Sergeant Belisarius with me! We rejoin the fight amongst our brothers!" A lone Space Marine on the side of the fight was a tempting target for several of the orks, lootas lingering about near the center of the horde turned their attention toward him and three crackling deffguns opened fired; streaks of violent orange lightning stabbing through the air and scoring grooves in the slopes around them both.

Catching sight of a Brother, Belisarius bolts from cover, the weight of his armor, gear, and power axe slightly more irritating to run with than he'd imagined. The incoming fire from nearby orks comes as no surprise but such boldness cannot go unanswered.

In rapid succession and five strides time he lobs three krak grenades in the direction of the offending greenskins and dives into cover beside the lone marine. Quickly, Belisarius goes over his remaining equipment: 5 frag grenades and 4 krak grenades... hmmm, must have dropped one during the run. He also notices a few fresh dents in his makeshift armor, still alive and kicking, crude but effective.

"What's your name, brother?" yells the Sergeant over the sounds of war nearby.

"They are too many to kill them all!" Raphael informed the Captain as he raised his Assault cannon among with the few other ranged modified Terminators. "I know, focus on the leaders! Slay them and the Orks will be nothing but victims! OPEN THE PATH!" The Captain ordered as they formed a half circle, leaving the center way free to let the ranged Terminators slay them.

And so they did, typical attack pattern Hades-Terminatus. The Melee Warriors would slow the onslaught down and allow only a hole in the direction they want to move on where the Assault Cannons and Heavy Flamers would shoot at, opening a path just big enough for the Captain to move through and engage the leader in a duel.

'And so it shall be done.' Raphael thought, aiming for the heads of the Orks, the Assault cannon roaring to life just before it started it's wild rapid fire, slaying orks in the dozen by the seconds. "DIE GREENSKINS! WE WILL NOT FALTER, WE WILL SLAY EVERY SINGLE ORK IF WE HAVE TO! YOU DO NOT STAND A CHANCE!" He attempted to provoke the savage beasts to lead them further into the killing zone of the concentrated fire.

Battle C: Kor's fall
"Brother Calvitus Brother Sergeant!" Without a comm link in the others helm he was forced to yell between disciplined burst of bolter fire. The krak grenades focused blast bit a deep crater in the ork lines and caused quite a devastating explosion granted it killed far fewer orks than one so large would normally warrant, many such orks were now barreling toward the two. "We hold here! The rest of my squad is converging alongside assault squad Demerius. We will split their forces and punish them for it, No Mercy!"

Jump jets roared into life propelling warriors who weighed up to half a ton through the air on arcs of flame, they landed amidst the ork splinter force charging the Sergeant and Tactical marine. Eight more Astartes in Minotaur heraldry began running up along the enemy line with guns blazing, a missile launcher and flame thrower amongst the bolters. Ever more attention was being drawn to the small force of Minotaurs but it was doing it's job as more and more of the ork's battle line split. A looted wagon brought it's ramshackle wrath to bear upon them and opened fire with heavy twin linked shootas while it's main cannon slowly tracked into place to face them. The massed firepower chewed through a number of the orks and felled two assault marines acting as the bronze screen against the green tide.

Further down at the battle lines heart the Captain's champion had engaged the Nob leading the charge, heavy chain choppa clashing with power sword and combat shield. A small duel amongst hundreds that would go a long way to deciding who claimed the night.

Battle:A Boarding Action [Shhh I know I did it out of order]
The Warboss met the Captain with a bellowing laugh and a pair of snapping klaws meant to slice him in half, the Sons leader would not be cut down so easily and responded by hacking off one of the left hand klaw blades with his power sword.

Under normal circumstances the orks would play easily into the marines tactic for most of the fight but with Blood Axe nobs in the lead they picked up on their game in good time. using their mega armored forms as battering rams the nobz slammed into the assault terminators, wedging between them and prying open gaps for more boys to enter from or simply engaging the marine where he stood, effectively rooting their firing gap in one position that the boyz were ordered to avoid. The living flood of gretchin and squigs amounted to nothing for the most part, unable to even scratch the tactical dreadnought armor, only when a brother fell would they become a danger, consuming him in an instant and stabbing, biting or shooting at his head with poor excuses for weapons.

Time wore on as the pair dueled and the Emperor's Angels of Death were proving their mettle, the Captain having gouged a number of telling blows in those bits of flesh exposed on the Warboss but he in turned had suffered the same. Two more brothers had fallen, one of the ranged terminators had been struck from all sides after being thrown to the ground by a loose bomb squig that weaved it's way between all the others, tank bustahs joining the fight for the glory of killing what amounted to a walking tank of sorts. An assault terminator had fallen when his armor could no longer sustain any more blows and a charging mega nob of immense size threw him down to the ground and stamped his helmet into a crumpled heap and his head into a mangled bloody paste.

Aboard the other two ships targeted for insertion the Fire Lord's had progressed rapidly, keeping to tight corridors that allowed their devastating flamer weapons to have the most effect, they had arrived in the command center of the hulk only to find a room rigged with explosives awaiting them. They had suffered six losses in the ensuing explosion but their rage over the incident allowed them to fight free of the ambush that followed and slay the lesser warboss when he entered the into the combat. They were entering their boarding torpedo once more for the return trip thirty minutes later.

The third boarding party of Astartes had been forced to pull out when the ork Kaptaining ordered several of the smaller vessels in the fleet to open fire on the breeched quadrant of his ship, only to discover that he wasn't as clever as he thought when Loyalist war ships closed in and blew the ship apart.