Warhammer 40,000: The Third War for Armageddon

[Hauptmann]

"Losing...got....three more....Incoming!" Yelled an annonymous man over the vox.

Chaplain-Commander Marrus of the Black Templar would not got to cover. His duties to the Emporer bade him stand tall to keep his allies faithful. The Emporer would protect them. Barely a second after the frenzied call ended the ehining screech of Ork Kannon fire echoed across the trench lines as the incoming shells inpacted , throwing shrapnel and smoke into all directions. Screams of the wounded Imperial Guard could be heard in the distance.

Marrus moved through the forward trench until he got ahold of the Imperial Guard General, who was furiously trying to organize his men. He stood as the Chaplain approached, and mumbled a prayer to the Emporer.

"What is the situation?" Asked Maruss

"There is sporadic Ork artillery hitting all up and down our front line, and they have sallied forth from their defenses several times to try and take some of our line. Failed each time, thanks to the Astartes Arbites here like yourself, sir."

"It is not us who are keeping the Orks from getting into Volcanus, it is our faith in the Emporer that keeps our line in our hands."

"Aye...sir. We've got our own artillery batteries but their ammunition is extremely low and I have ordered them to conserve it until we need it the most. Our Armoured Regiments are still being held to the rear of our secondary line until we choose to make our own advance or we have to fall back to the Hive City itself " Replied the General.

Marrus stepped up the firing step and poked his armored head over the trench line. He could make out how hastily dug the Ork trenches were, and the fact they didn't even strench the full length of the Imperium lines. Marrus held his Corzium Arcanum high as he stood to his full height and began a battle prayer of the Emporer to rally the troops.

[Snot]

“Brother Quintus! Take Brothers Barnard and Malikai with three Neophytes to aid those Guardsmen on the right flank!” Bellowed Initiate Titus as he stood on the edge of the Imperial forward trenches, overlooking the far left trench system of the Ork forces.

“But Brother Titus! The Ork filth has halted its advances. They dare not test the might of the Black Templars.” Replied Quintus.

“I don’t believe I asked for your opinions Quintus. Move and take that position. Or I will have you brought up before the Inquisition.” Hissed Titus through his helm breath mask, making it sound more like air escaping a hose. Quintus dared not argue with such a valid threat and merely bowed.

“Milord Titus. Heavy Bolter squads one and two are running low on ammo sir. What shall we do?” Interjected a nearby Guardsmen Sergeant with a vox strapped to his back.

“With our supplies cut off from the fleets, and the counter fleets still days away, we must make every shot count against an army whose numbers know no bounds. Do I make myself clear Sergeant?”

The Sergeant swallowed hard, and nodded, he punched up his vox and relayed the orderl. Titus then returned his gaze to the Ork line. The red tint of his lenses and the various scanners imbedded into his helmet gave him a greater view. Increasing the magnification, Titus saw the Orks moving beyond their lines.

A mass of green, leather, and metal. Lifting his chain sword over his left shoulder plate, and resting the it there, Titus pulled his bolt pistol from its holster at his hip.

“Get me Brother-Chaplain Marrus. The Orks are about to launch another assault.”

[Hauptmann]

Brother-Chaplain Marrus was surveying battle maps of the area and downloading them into his suit's database when a frenzied man with a vox on his back came running through the trenchs into the command post. Marrus turned to the vox operator as he came to a stop, panting through his rebreather. Since several of the attenae had been taken out by artillery fire, the small voxes in Space Marine armor could only transmit very short distances and Marrus has to rely on larger, back pack mounted voxs to get the word out to the troops.

"Veteran Sergeant Titus requires your immediate attention, sir." The trooper said as he handed the reciever to Marrus. he took the reciever and held it up to his head.

"Brother-Chaplain Marrus, commanding. What is the situation, Veteran Sergeant?" He spoke into the vox. He knew it would probably come out garbled and static-y, but it was the best they had. new attenae would be set in the night, but it was only early afternoon. There was a lot of fighting to be done.

"Orks...attack...epeat:Orks...massing...attack..." Was all the made it out of the vox. The message was clear: The Orks were going to try another line assault.

"Hold the line until I get there, Veteran Sergeant. Emporer help us if the get into the trenches." He said as he turned the operator around a punched a few keys, bringing it to another channel. This was the artillery channel.

"Get me the 12th Battery commander. I want a full strike as soon as possible, continuous firing until you hear from me to stop or until you run out of ammo." He said. With that, he handed the reciever to the trooper and headed for the front line, and Veteran Sergeant Titus.

[Tyrus]

Tyrus ducked under a berm as an Ork shell hit the ground just in front of the embankment, throwing dirt and bits of plasticrete into the trench. His squad had been stationedi n the direct center of the line, where the Orks seemed to be attacking the hardest. The rain of artillery shells seemed to be continuos. Tyrus silently cursed his choice of weapon for perhaps the first time in his career: A flamer was absolutely no good in trench warfare unless he got into the Ork line or they got into his.

He poked his head over the embankment and started to scan the Ork lines for anything interesting. His biologically enhanced hearing could pick out bits of the Ork language being uttered in the distance, but only between the Heavy Bolter fire and ,as said, constant shelling. Over the vox he could only make out words from his squad. Simething was coming, another assault,

[kongurous]

Commander Velus Neman of the 9th Armageddon adjusted his binoculars as his Leman Russ of the standard variety shook from its engine, the machine spirit within ready for battle. They were high upon a bluff overlooking the main battle for the route leading into Volcanus. The artillery had started opening up, sending plumes of dirt and bodies exploding in the distance as Orks and shattered trenches alike exploded.

Velus tabbed the PA system of the tank, and ordered a HE shell loaded into the breech of the battlecannon. The sponsons were fitted with Heavy Bolters and were ready to fire, and the tank was battle-ready. As the cannon was loaded, the tank revolved and accelerated down the way off the bluff to engage the Ork filth.

"Incoming Rokkits, commander.", the driver said over his communicator.

"Take evasive action. Gunner, keep the cannon aimed at their lines.", Velus replied, not much caring for the protective hull of the tank and thus standing in the topside hatch. He figured if they were going to be in a situation where he had to duck, the tank was screwed.

The crude Orky weapons swerved harmlessly across the battlefield, some of them landing back in the lines of the Orks. The heavy bolters on the sponsons opened up with a fury, dropping charging Orks like flies.

On the horizon, the distinctive sound of Wartrukks filled on the air as the actual monstrosities followed, their drivers firing awry shots at the Imperials holding the line and arbitrarily into the air.

"Aim at the highest concentration of Wartrukks and blow them to kingdom come. Keep shooting and give them no quarter, such xeno filth must feel the Emperor's wrath.", Velus calmly commanded. It was a normal day on the battlefield.

More explosions filled the air as the mighty Leman Russ opened fire, and more targets filled the view. Today would be a good day to die, it would seem.

[Tanis]

" I swear to the Emporer I can never get anything good with the deck we play with. One of ya has to have stacked it." Jon swore as he tossed a pair of cards on to the box his team was playing on.

Artillery had been ordered to cease fire almost two hours ago since they had precious few ammunition boxes full of shells. Since then Jon and the other four men in his fire team had been playing cards behind their massive Bombard howitzer. They had nothing else to do for the moment. Things seemed to be heating up though, Ork attacks had become much more common. A trooper carrying a mobile vox on his back came out of the Battery 12 command tent and let out a call.

"All Artillery Commanders! Five degrees elevation, two degrees deviation to the left! Continous barrage! Fire on the Captain's command!"

The five man team burst into action. Lt. Jonathan took his position to the rear and left of the gun as the other four men began the loading process. Homan, the lift operator, was at the controls of the lift. He picked up a rather large and heavy shell with the claw and placed it into the breech of the cannon. Sarn activated the impact fuse and locked it on to the head of the shell. Danyl adjusted the elevation and deviation while Mykel slide the breech forward.

"Piece manned and ready, Lt.!" Called Homan.

Jonatahn stepped forward and attached the lanyard ring into the firing mechanism and stepped back into his position, firing line in hand.

"Stand clear gun crew!" He commanded.

"All guns, fire!" Ordered the Captain

The thirteen guns of the Battery 12 opened fire, creating massive plumes of smoke and blossome of white hot fire.

[Snot]

Titus looked up as the cloud of dust rose up. The Ork Waaaaagh!! was on the march.

"Here they come." He whispered to himself, latching his helm. "FOR THE EMPEROR!!"