Felix felt a little better when the Cadians starteded to rally. The 3003rd had wound up taking the brunt of the greenskin assault after the vehicles of their comrades started taking getting bogged down or destroyed. Now that the Cadians were with them, though, the plasma gunner decided they needed to be shown how real guardsmen rallied. The Orks didn't attack in waves so much as a stream that ebbed and surged. So when they started another surge, he stood up and blasted another hole in their line, tripping up the charging monstrosities with their own dead. His fellow Hazard cut down more of them with his flamethrower, and then, knowing it was an awful idea, Iceman led the charge over their little pile of bodies and rubble.

"Three-[i]Oh[/i]-Three!?" he bellowed, loosing another gout of plasma as he crested the ridge. His timing couldn't have been better. The heavy weapons teams they'd been waiting for had finally gotten into position, and a barrage of mortars struck the surging greenskins an instant after he reached the top. Explosions and gunfire drowned out the first response to his rallying cry, but the second try was just as good.

"Raiders lead the way!" it was unanimous, if a bit ragged. And then the Grenadiers followed him up and over the top like he was some kind of inspiring figure. He'd never aspired to such things, indeed, usually he was one of the least the inspiring figures around, often in the background napping while others sorted out a plan. At this point, though, it was do or die, and he didn't really like the idea of dying in this particular spot. 

Unfortunately, the charge was short-lived. Their enemies got piled up in the rush forward, and the two sides, refusing to give, resulted in a sort of corpse-induced stalemate, at least on Felix's portion of the line. When all the Orks were reduced to crispy critters or missing large chunks, they tended to get in the way of the greenskins behind them. And thanks to the reassuringly bass-y chugging of heavy stubbers in the background, there were plenty of Ork chunks to get in the way. This time, their cover was purely dead Orks, and not just reinforced by them, but they'd gotten all the way up to the breach.

"Well... Fuck... What do we do now?" the question was mostly directed at the chainsword-wielding senior NCO beside him, but his comm-bead was on broadcast so anyone with an idea was welcome to answer. Leaving his plasma gun on "maximal", he carried on firing bursts of overcharged plasma into the horde of enraged green death in front of them, at least until it overheated and needed time to cool down. This was the point where the Sergeant had one of the best ideas in his career.

"Grenadiers!" he screamed into his comm-bead. And automatically, every member of the 3003rd in broadcast range stopped and pulled out a frag grenade. It was normally a terrible tactic in the middle of such intense fighting, but with the Cadians to provide covering fire for a moment, and their heavy weapons still booming away, it just might work. "Fiiire!" the adrenaline-induced rage possessing the senior NCO leant him an air of authority even his drill voice couldn't match, and this time, rather than pointlessly rush the mob of greenskins blocking their way, the regiment held their ground, and lobbed all the explosives they could into the fray before carrying on pouring fire into the enemies of the Imperium...