TURN FOUR: The nephilim limped back into the fight. It bombed a gretchin mob and lined up on the big mek. The ork drew a bead on his opponent with one hand on the quad gun his half-finished sandwich in the other. In usual orkish fashion 20mm shells flew in all directions, a menace to both sides. He only stopped firing when his ammo drums ran dry. The airplane seemingly disappeared. Whether disintergrated or the pilot had called it a day who could say through all the smoke and explosions?
The trukk swerved around behind the rhino. Orks piled out shootas blazing and mobbed the techmarine biker, who fought valiantly but didn’t have a chance against twelve-to-one odds. Tactical marines burst out of all three doors of their apc. They were too late to save their battle brother but avenged him with bolter and flame by executing eight of the eleven remaining orks.
No time to finish them off. A metallic whoosh and snapping of claws as the heldrake plunged toward the marines then climbed. The daemon turned its head and almost as an after-thought blew a track off their rhino.
Trying to get his men moving, the chaos tactical sergeant surveyed the sniper situation by peering through an aegis fire point. A bullet ricocheted through the slit and killed a marine crouching next to him.
“Dammit! That’s fragging it!” he yelled. “Men, follow me!”
This was personal now. The sergeant jumped up gesticulating wildly. His men cheered as they piled over the aegis, some jumping the six foot wall with power armor-assisted boosts, and they ran in a mob toward the scouts. Their rhino rumbled along behind them. Its dirge caster beat out a mocking drum solo.
Mortar fire decimated the remaining loyalist tactical marines. A lucky shell sailed into the rhino’s open top hatch and killed the crew. Nothing left but a smoking wreck. A few choppa orks tried to join the fray but couldn’t get past the gretchin in front of them who floated by in slow motion, still under the temporal bomb’s spell.
TURN FIVE: Though they fought bravely the Dark Angels were annihilated. Only the dauntless scouts held out on the far lee of their hill. They fell back from the advancing chaos marines, maintaining disciplined skirmishing routines that would have done credit to fighting men of much greater experience. Their mission required they live. It was vital the chapter master learn what they knew. Somehow communications were jammed yet again.
A scout vanished with only a smoking crater remaining where he stood. They were suddenly cast in deep shadow. The heldrake hovered over them silently gloating.
“By Slaanesh they are mine!” The chaos sergeant shook his fist at the daemon. “Damn you to the warp!” He began fishing around for a krak grenade. Three of his men tried to hand him one at the same time.
Enraged the drake bellowed a challenge, winged over, and bombed the chaos marines in a shit storm of waste promethium and fish oil sludge. Chaos bolter fire played uselessly over the cyber-dragon’s breast. It wheeled and bombed them again … and again. The scouts escaped in the confusion. They had much to tell their superiors about this unholy alliance between ork and traitor marine.