Rubio Oretento, commissar in the Emperor's Guard and a hero of countless battles, stood frozen in place, his eyes on the ork in front of him. Time seemed to stand still as the enormous greenskin fell from the sky, axe raised high to split Rubio's skull. He was perfectly calm, though. At least it's over, the commissar thought wearily. He wouldn't have to live in this endless hell any longer. He closed his eyes, at peace with his fate.

"Commissar-!" the faint voice of a trooper echoed.

He opened his eyes in a flash, time rushing back to full speed. There as a deafening crash as his chainsword struck the axe, its teeth grinding against whatever foul metal the orks made their butchering equipment with. He threw himself backwards at the last possible moment, as the ork came crashing down on where he had stood seconds earlier, his booming "WAAAAAAAAUUUUU-" cut short. After a stunned second- his reflexes were somewhat dulled with age- Rubio scrambled forward and brought his chainsword down on the giant's head with all his might. "Battle formations! Ambush!" he shouted as loud as he could to the troopers accompanying him.

Somehow, he was still heard over the downed greenskin's deafening yelling, though whether it was pain or laughter only the Emperor knew. But when Rubio tore free his chainsword and sliced off the beast's head, he saw that it didn't really matter. Orks were pouring in on them from every direction in a way he had rarely known to be so literal. The guardsmen under Captain Dedmaet were rallying, firing in every direction, but the sheer chaos prevented any kind of organized defense. It was everything he had feared when they had entered this Emperor-forsaken city.

[center][b]*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *[/b][/center]

They'd been ordered through the right breech with the first wave. As waves of troopers from the fresh regiments made their mad charge across the field into the left breech, catching the attention of the excited orks, the 3rd Endorans had driven their chimeras on the far right flank, catching the greenskins almost unawares. From atop his vehicle, he saw their motorized line crash into the greenskins, raining death below them. He made a few potshots himself with his bolt pistol, but he still had a headache from last night's drinking and didn't hit anything living.

He had plenty of time to sober up after that, though. As epic as their charge was, they found themselves faced with a city in such a state of ruins that even their chimeras couldn't navigate the streets. The Endorans found themselves sent ahead while engineers struggled to clear the rubble. They slogged through the city on foot for hours, encountering light resistance. Too light; with every step not payed for in blood, Rubio's mood darkned further. The Orks were not known for retreating. Worse, they had to travel through narrow streets filled with all kinds of rubish, with some passages being as narrow as three feet. Above them loomed the towering ruins of apartment complexes. It was the ideal setting for ambushes. And they were being sent in on foot, without support! They were cannon fodder, their lives thrown away by apathetic superiors. Rubio's fury grew as they made progress into the city, not so much angry at the danger to his own life as the stupid waste of life.

[center][b]*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *[/b][/center]

And now he had been proven right. All around him was complete and utter chaos; orks came up from behind, from the front, from side alleys, even jumping down on them from above like the first one had. In the corner of his eye, he saw an ork pin down Private Jenkins, axe raised for the kill. Rubio wasted no time: he dashed forward, driving his chainsword into the beast's back. Jenkins sat on the ground, dazed, as the monster grunted and tried to turn to grab the commissar. "Your lasgun!" Rubio gasped, trying desperately to keep the greenskin locked in place. The private seemed to understand, as a moment later, the ork fell to the ground dead, a hole in its ugly face. Rubio helped the young trooper up.

"Where's the Captain?" he asked. Jenkins only pointed, still white in shock. Captain Dedmaet as plastered against a wall, sliced in half. Rubio swore: "Damn it!"

"Plakehaulder! Anemar!" he shouted to two troopers who were rushing towards them. "We're sitting ducks out here. We need to get into one of these buildings!"

Plakehaulder got there first, firing a few shots as he came to a stop. "That isn't going to be easy, the nearest entrances are all beyond those fine gentlemen."

'Those fine gentlemen' turned out to be a line of half a dozen greenskins charging from behind them, from the intersection the company had just passed. There wasn't much hope in that direction. But then, they had none at all where they stood. Rubio looked down at his chainsword, which had seized up while he was struggling with the second ork. He cursed the machine gods silently; the sword was now a useless tangle of metal and ruined teeth. He looked at the three troopers around him in turn: Plakehaulder, grinning in excitement despite all the madness around them; Anemar, who despite being the largest of the four was shaking like a baby; and Jenkins, seized up after his first taste with death. They were all fresh recruits, in the guard for less than a month.

"Frak it," Commissar Rubio finally said. He threw aside his broken chainsword and drew out his bolt pistol. "This isn't the day we die! We're cutting our way through them!"