[b]Alisae Sector, Asteroid Belt Agrosh[/b]

A hundred thousand vessels hung in the inky black of space, deceptively calm as they faced off with the coming storm. Across the fleet a billion Orks drummed their choppas against the deck, their voices lifted in incoherent song. [b]''Ere we go, 'ere we go, 'ere we go!'[/b] On the greatest mass of asteroid and machine, the space hulk known as [i]Da Big Rok[/i], one Ork stepped ponderously onto a lectern overlooking a hanger packed with his lesser minions. With a gesture the great figure silenced the hall and began to speak. [b]'My boyz. Today wez standz before da second biggest threat to life in dis galaxy, da Niddy hordes of da 'ive Mind itself.'[/b] His voice was broadcast throughout the fleet and every Ork paused in his revelling to pay homage to Da Grand Admarul. [b]'Deyz iz not weak or flimsy. Deys iz tuff, deys iz choppy, deys iz [i]worthy prey.[/i] But, deyz iz not the invincible.'[/b] The Ork drew himself up to his full and considerable height, towering metres over every other greenskin. [b]'Kuz I'z iz da biggest threat ta life [i]in da whole zoggin' universe![/i] And youz iz mah Waaagh!'[/b] The air crackled with ominous green lightning as every greenskin in Da Grand Armarder, Ork and Grot alike joined their Warlord in mighty exultation. [b]'Now boyz, now iz da time! For Gork and Mork, and a zoggin' good fight! [i]Waaagh!'[/i][/b]

A million engines lit up like a cluster of young stars against the pitch black backdrop of space and a billion Orks screamed their war cries as they raced toward the encroaching tendrils of the Tyranid Hive Fleet. Thousands of smaller ships shot ahead of the main Ork fleet, ramships little more than a kilometre long blade strapped to a powerful engine and manned super-torpedoes who's only purpose was to go down in a flash of glory. Behind them followed a mulit-layered screen of Kroozers and escorts of various size, their guns swatting smaller Tyranid bioforms down like flies. Finally came the main bulk of Da Grand Armarder; thousands of enormous Roks bristling with kannon, spewing Fighta-Bombas and led by a sharp delta of mightiest of all Ork warships, the hulks. [i]Da Big Rok[/i] sailed at the head of the formation, driving deep into the Tyranid lines, spewing death in all directions. Countless Orks lost their lives in what would be remembered as the single largest fleet action of the campaign, but superior manoeuvre and sheer bulldog tenacity ensured that Tyranid casualties were an order of magnitude higher. Still, da Grand Admarul knew full well that while the Hive Mind could sustain such losses, da Waagh! could not. After two solid months of space combat and countless billions of dead bugs, he decided it was time for da Waagh! to come to Vigil.

[b]Vigil, Eastern Equatorial Continent[/b]

The first Ork landings were not intentional, as ships, Roks, even entire hulks became infested with Tyranids. The crews generally tried to land their lost vessels near population centres in hopes of spreading the Tyranid plague, but more often than not they came down in sparsely populated areas, areas that soon became battlegrounds between roving Ork and Tyranid forces. Da Grand Admarul had picked his own landing site very carefully, expending wave after wave of Fighta-Bombas to scout the surface for an appropriate location, easily defended yet with ample land for barracks, factories and the unique Orkoid biosphere to grow. Leaving [i]Da Big Rok[/i] in the hands of his First Officer, the Warlord headed down on a specially built Rok, smaller than most and packed to the brim with flat-packed base materials. Once he had a chance to survey the area on foot, he would call down other Roks to serve as strongholds, ensuring Ork domination over this land. A pair of Nobz kicked open the Rok door for him, laying down a walkway for their leader to reach the ground. Da Grand Amadrul took his time touring the camp, one gargantuan hand grasping his lapel in a surreal throwback to the Imperium he found so fascinating. Everywhere he went Orks stopped in their work to give him ill-coordinated salutes and call him 'Sur'; it was magnificent, a glimpse of what Orkind would one day become under his leadership. A handful of large Orks followed behind him, each wearing a tattered greatcoat and crush cap. These were his closest advisors, Orks that had been with him since the beginning and powerful Warbosses he had subjugated over the years.

He beckoned one forward. [b]'Yes, Grand Admarul Fraurn? Wut may Iz do for da Waagh?'[/b] Warboss Hrak, known to his enemies as Taubane, was the nearest thing an Ork could be to an administrator. With his unique cranial bioniks and naturally inquisitive mind, Hrak was a savant at running supply lines and military bases and served as Fraurn's chief quartermaster. [b]'Take a trukk and scout da area. Gimme good sites ta drop Roks and a good open plain ta land a hulk. And if ya run inta any 'Nids, call 'em in... Git goin'.'[/b] Hrak gave his best salute and jogged off to find or steal a trukk, his retinue in tow. [b]'As for da resta you snotz, I want patrolz around da perimetre. No 'Nid gets inside or I'll eat whoeva let it in.'[/b] The rest of the Nobz saluted and scattered; many had their own warbands to patrol with, while others would need to bash a few lesser Orks around first. Fraurn knew it would be impossible to secure a large area against a threat like the Tyranids, but with sufficient [i]force consentrayashun[/i] he ought to able to keep his own base clear. The great Ork headed back to the relative comfort of the Rok, mentally planning the next stage of his grand Waagh!