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An Unggoy Life: Chapter 22: Total Chaos!
Posted By: CrazyGrunt<thomas-hoskins@comcast.net>
Date: 9 September 2005, 2:44 pm

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Armageddon Prime, Death Mire's crossing

      The land surrounding the city of Death Mire was just that, a huge swamp that caused hundreds of deaths each year. The city itself sat in the middle of the swamp, It's walls of granite preventing a flood from the swamp. The walls had been reinforced with three-yard thick Titanium-A. Before the First Armageddon War, the city always had a mile-long landbridge and half a mile wide, and was the only route to or from the city without a boat, which was complete suicide because of the mysterious creatures that resided the swamp waters.
      The Orks figured that out the hard way when one of their crude boats was swallowed by a huge alligator monster. Then they decided it was best to use the landbridge.
      The Master Chief sat in driver's seat of a Gauss Warthog, with the Johnson riding shotgun, and the Arbiter sitting in the gunner seat.
      "By the black flames on their Waagh banner," Johnson said to the others, "I bet that this time the Blackfire Tribe is coming."
      "They have eight Gargants," the Arbiter murmured, "And it is likely that the Feral Orks that took refuge in the jungle after the last war here have joined their ranks."
      "Sarge, send the order up the Scarab line to fire at will when the Gargants are in range," The Master Chief ordered, "and tell them to aim for their 'heads.'
      "Roger that Chief," Sarge said, "Armour's on the way."
      The Master Chief turned the Warthog around, and drove off.

      Skabsnik the Ork was forty years old. But age meant nothing to an Ork. He led his Slugga mob as they trudged through the snow in the Deadlands to what the humans called Water Processing plant Omega. The plant was shaped like a dome for reasons unknown to the Orks. Not that they cared.
      Skabsnik wore the traditional Ork Slugga boy gear, a sleevless mud-brown jumpsuit with the occasional metal plate strapped to their shoulder and called body armour, which worked quite well, and a helmet with a pair of animal horns fatsen to the sides, just like the rest of his mob.
      The mob itself had a bunch of Orks not wearing headgear at all. Those particular Orks had to keep rubbing their ears to keep them warm.
      Skabsnik yanked open the steel door, and to his utter surprise, the door flew off it's hinges, smacked him in the face, and sent him flying five feet through the air and landed facefirst into the snow bank in front of the entrance. The whole mob saw it, and they all started collapsed in hysterics, and a few fell to the ground, clutching their sides.
      "'elp da old skraga up," Grimzag, a yoof five years out of the cocoon, chuckled.
      Skabsnik pulled his head out of the snow and chuckled, "Guess I don't know me own strength."
      The whole mob burst into laughter. Still laughing, the mob walked inside.
      "Oi!" Skabsnik called, "Nob Grimgull! Shift changed!"
      No answer. Skabsnik shrugged. Orks had always been lousy sentries.
      "Hey, Skabsnik," Grimzag whispered, "Hear that?"
      Everyone was silent for a minute. Then Skabsnik heard it. It sounded like a faint scritch-scratch from the other side of the plant's inner door.
      "Weapons out," Skabsnik whispered the order, "Badsnikk, check the door."
      Badsnikk stomped over to the armoured door. He prodded it open with the tip of his Slugga. He peered inside…
      The ground exploded underneath them. Badsnikk roared a battlecry, there was a gargle, and it was cut short. The rest of the mob, who never knew what they were fighting, formed a semicircle and began firing outward.
      Skabsnik tossed the radio to the side and saw that only he, Grimzag, the mob's Big Shoota specialist, Ruzdakka, and the Burna specialist, Badskul.
      "Retreat!" Skabsnik roared, "Badskul, Ruzdakka, cover u-AAAGH!"
      Unfortunately, the remainder of the mob didn't hear the order, and were consumed by their unseen enemy.

      Miranda Keyes was beginning to worry. After the demise of the Triumph, Two more Ork fleets had arrived insystem. Keyes could only guess that two more Ork warlords were in those fleets.
      The Orbital Platforms were assaulted initially by the what Keyes guessed was the Droid Army's fleet. The Orbital guns destroyed three of the Droid ships before they had gotten in range. The first salvo of the Droid fleet was devastating. The Orbital guns split into the Orbital Defense ships, and took out four more Droid ships before braking the blockade.
      "Cortana," Keyes said finally, "Send a systemwide transmission to the remaining Orbital Defense ships. Tell them to concentrate fire on the Ork fleets. We'll cover them."
      "Transmission sent," Cortana reported.
      Keyes leaned back in the captain's chair. Your move Ork, she thought.

      The Master Chief pushed the gas pedal to the floor as he drove toward the charging Orks of the Blackfire Tribe, who were followed by the Droid Army. A Big Shoota round shot through the windshield and bounced off the Arbiter's armor. Johnson was swearing up a storm, his battle rifle providing the accompaniment as it chewed up the Orks within range.
      They were five hundred yards the front of the charge when the Master chief spotted them in the rearview mirror. Phantoms and Pelicans. Lots of Phantoms and Pelicans, followed by the planet's militia forces in Warthogs.
      Two Phantoms flew over their heads, raining plasma at the Orks. The two phantoms stopped two hundred yards away from the charging Orks and dropped their passengers. Eight pairs of Lekgolo landed on the concrete with a loud thud. The Orks kept coming, sure they could defeat the strange new aliens. They didn't know what they were in for.
      All the Lekgolo roared in unison and started charging their fuel rod guns. The Orks kept coming, still unintimidated. The Lekgolo opened fire.
      The entire frontline of Orks exploded, and the Orks behind them were sent flying. But the Orks still kept coming, except some were swapping ranks with the other Orks. The Master Chief saw the crude Ork rokkit launchas aimed at half the Lekgolo. The Orks returned fire.
      The rockets connected with uncanny accuracy, since Orks, who were usually lousy shots. The remaining Lekgolo roared, and charged the Orks as one to attack them in close combat.
      The Master Chief gunned the Warthog toward the Orks, hoping to take a few with him.
      An Ork jumped up onto the Warthog's hood, punched through the windshield, grabbed the Master Chief, and threw off the Warthog. The Ork got a face full of lead because of that, thanks to Johnson and the Arbiter, but it didn't stop the Warthog from flying straight into a squad of Ork Warbikes.
      The Chief fell on top of an unlucky Grot, who got squished as the Mater Chief landed on him. The Chief stood up, and pulled out his Energy Sword.
I may die today, he thought, but at least I'll take some of them with me.

      Lovu fired her Plasma Rifle into the face of an Ork that had nearly scaled the sandstone wall that protected the major port of Helsreach. The Ork roared in pain, and let go of the handhold to clutch its face. Bad idea. The Ork fell off the wall, and landed in the sand two stories down. The Ork slowly rose up, and Lovu duck as a slug the size of her arm flew over the wall.
      She had been placed in of the 67th Holy Soldiers Battalion. Nugga was in charge of the 99th Battalion, which was holding up better than her's on the far side of the wall. Holi, along with Huka, was commanding the 35th Holy Soldiers Battalion at the Docks, where a tanker-sized Ork submersibles had risen from the watery depths and began moving toward the harbor. Yanna and Glor were leading the 55th Holy Soldiers Battalion and the 8th militia Battalion in defending the gates.
      "Lovu…Holi…Orks jamming…us…being overrun…need reinfor…Kill you…" Holi's voice was distorted over the Comm, and was followed by, the staccato of Shoota fire.
      Lovu cringed as she replayed the message. She turned to the battalion's sergeant, who was a Sangheili.
      "Hold the battalion here, Sergeant," Lovu ordered, "I'm going to assist in the defense of the harbor."
      "It shall be done, leader. May the gods protect you," The Sangheili replied.
      Lovu nodded, then ran to the docks.

      "Eat this!" Thomas shouted as he stuck his Shotgun into the face of an Ork that got too close to the defense line around the city of Tartarus.
      The defense line was set up to preventing the Orks from reaching Tartarus. It was essentially three rings of trenches inside one another that had been built to defend the city. The outermost trench was filled with explosives, to be blown up when the Gargants arrived. The middle trench had housed the planetary militia 3rd Battalion, and it was overrun in seconds. The innermost trench housed the battle-hardened ODSTs of 5th Platoon, 6th Platoon, and 7th Platoon. The defense of the city itself was maintained by Marines and Holy Soldiers.
      The ODSTs had been holding up for three hours, but his platoon was beginning to tire out.
      Thomas grabbed the Shoota from his most recent kill, climbed out of the trench, and opened fire with on the nearest Orks. The Orks dropped dead where they stood, Shoota rounds lodged in their skulls.
      Thomas tossed the spent weapon away and snatched up a Battle Rifle from one of the ODSTs from 6th Platoon as he leaped back into the trench. He stuck his head over the edge of the trench and surveyed the charging enemy.
      Orks blew up left, right, and center, but they still kept coming. they seemed to know no fear. Even if the UWSC defeated the Orks and won back control of this world, the Orks would just keep coming back, again and again. The Orks simply would not give up.

      Holi randomly fired her Plasma Pistol behind her. Huka had already been killed by the Orks. She screamed as an Ork carrying two Sluggas stepped out from behind a stack of plasma storage barrels. He grinned, and fired four rounds at her head. Three of the bullets missed, but the last one clipped the center of her methane rebreather. Precious methane gas began leaking out at an alarming rate.
      Holi crawled behind a old dumpster as the Ork ducked behind the storage barrels to reload. Desperate, she grabbed an old newspaper and covered the hole. It would have to do until she could get back to Helsreach's milita HQ. Then she poked her head out of the dumpster.
      The Ork had almost finished reloading, and she could see more Orks coming toward him. She had to do something fast to kill all of them at once. Then she glanced back at the Plasma storage barrels. They were the key.
      If the plasma inside them came in contact with oxygen or any other breathable gas, it would become very hot, and explode if it came in contact with another heat source.
      Holi stuck her firearm out the top of the dumpster, overcharged the Plasma Pistol, and fired it in the Plasma barrels. The ball of super-heated Plasma must have hit, because a second later an explosion knocked the dumpster on it's side.
      Holi crawled out and began to walk in the direction of what she was praying was the direction of the city's milita HQ.

      "Sir!" One of the skeletal Droids that had been working in the tactical room on the Armageddon Flame came running onto the steel deck of the Commander's Platform on the bridge.
      The bridge was triangular in shape, and about sixteen yards long by sixteen yards wide. Ten feet by ten feet windows, eleven inches thick, covered the front of the bridge. Fifteen Droids worked at their stations, all monitored by the Commander's Platform, which was fourteen feet in diameter.
      "What is it?" Grievous wheezed, sitting in the Command chair, watching the battle of Helsreach unfold via the personal Holopad he had in front of him, "News of the battle at Death Mire, I hope?"
      "No sir," The Droid replied, "I'm afraid that we have lost all contact with Ork and Droid forces positioned on the Deadlands."
      "Understood," Grievous nodded, "What a tangled web we weave. Inform the our guests of this new twist of events."
      The guest were Ghazghkull, Urgok, and the Great Despot. They had transferred to the Armageddon Flame after the destruction of the remaining Orbital Defense Ships made a pitiful attempt to destroy the Ork juggernaut.
      Grievous rolled his eyes at this. If those three Orks were going to rule the galaxy, they would have to defeat the UWSC first.