The only concern that was created when the Ork's deployed their crude gas weapon was the reduced visability, already wearing his rebreather and secure against any untoward effects the gas may cause on unprotected individuals. The only ones that were of any concern in that regard was the Arbites, and if they weren't issued rebreather's Ansgar would be disappointed in them as a whole, and the mercenary. Her situation was, again, something out of his control and if she decided having breathing protection wasn't necessary, so be it. Between the flames from the Celestian, unsurprising as the choice of weapon was, and the combined weapon's fire from the rest of the squad, it was a good showing against the Ork threat. Frankly, Orks were easier to handle than Tyranids by a great margin thus far, even if their aptitude for mechanics was better than a Tyranid's. Which was not saying much, to be frank, but it was a true statement.

The gas combusting was expected, most compounds that were not properly prepared or otherwise maintained tended to be explosive, flammable, or some combination of the two on top of their usual toxic or otherwise lethal effects. Keeping his head down from the ensuing inferno, he waited for the firing slits to be reopened, seeing the missile that the Celestian fired failing to stop the retaliatory fire from the Orkish vehicle. Insctincts kicking in before he readily processed what was said, he found himself face down on the ground, one arm covering his neck, the other bracing himself against the impending blast. Braced as he was, and already on the ground, the blast did little to actually move him, though he was concussed and shaken up something fierce. Business as usual, then, living in a trench being shelled tended to prepare one, at least mentally if nothing else, for the rigors of taking fire from heavy ordinance.

Rising to his feet, a glance gave bad news. The missile launcher the Krieger was assigned was damaged, debris having warped the tube beyond safe operation. Scowling, he discarded it without a further concern and spotted the Ork's lining up another shot, and was going to have none of it. Quickly reaching into his satchel, he produced a krak grenade, pulling the pin and rising up, deaf towards anyone still though his hearing was recovering, taking several steps forward and lobbing the krak grenade with a practiced throw, sending the explosive hurtling through the air. The grenade landed square in front of the wartrakk's rokkit launcha and the unfortunate Ork manning it. A muffled [i]crump[/i] was heard and the bed of the wartrakk supporting the heavy weapon was caved in, sending the ork and weapon plunging down through the hole and ruining any ability for the thing to move, as well as giving the aformentioned Ork an extremely bad day in the process. Kneeling beside the rubble, Ansgar produced his Type XIV (Heavy) once more, sweeping for further threats as everything normalized.