Warhammer: Dark Knights

"Ya zoggin' runts! How useless can ya be? Can't even krump a few lousy beakies wot's stompin' round my ship!" The Warboss bellowed, his guttural roar reverberating through the ramshackle walls of the bridge.

He stood in the center of the room, a towering figure of crude brutality, his massive frame clad in a patchwork of scrap armor and adorned with trophies from countless battles. In one oversized hand, he gripped a massive power axe, its edge sparking erratically as if it, too, was fueled by the Warboss's fury.

The Orks in the room flinched at his anger, their confidence waning. The sheer force of the Warboss's rage was enough to send them into a frenzy of panicked motion. Some clumsily grabbed at their weapons, while others shuffled toward corners, trying to avoid his wrathful gaze.

One particularly slow-moving Boy, standing too close for comfort, caught the Warboss's attention. Without hesitation, the Warboss swung his massive power axe in a wide arc, cleaving the hapless Ork clean in half.

"Let dat be a warnin'! Any of ya run, an' I'll krump ya meself!" He growled, his beady eyes scanning the room for signs of defiance.

The remaining Orks, though visibly shaken, let out an uneasy chorus of roars, attempting to mask their fear with bravado. They tightened their grips on their weapons, readying themselves for the inevitable.

The Warboss turned his gaze to the reinforced door leading to the corridor beyond. The distant rumble of bolter fire and the rhythmic thunder of armored boots drawing nearer filled the bridge. A feral grin spread across his tusked face, revealing jagged yellow teeth.

"Dey'z comin'," He muttered, almost to himself, as he hefted his power axe and cracked his neck. "Good. I'z been itchin' fer a real scrap. Get ready, ya gits! Dis is where we show dese beakies wot real Orks fight like!"

The bridge became a cacophony of noise as the Boyz prepared for the incoming assault. The Warboss stood at the center of the chaos, a mountain of muscle and rage, eagerly awaiting the moment when Sevran and his Astartes would breach the door and face his wrath.

With a large explosion, the bridge door was blown inward, the crude metal slabs tearing from their hinges and crashing to the floor with a deafening clang. Smoke and shrapnel filled the air, momentarily obscuring the room.

From the smoke, Sevran rushed out with his combi-plasma aimed at the Orks. With deadly precision, multiple plasma shots streaked through the air, reducing the nearest Boyz to molten slag before they could react.

Behind him, the rest of the Astartes crashed into the Orks like a hammer. Bolters roared, tearing through green flesh with explosive rounds. Chainswords revved, biting deep into crude armor and muscle, spraying gore with each swing. Thunder hammers crackled with raw energy, crushing Orks in single, devastating strikes.

With loud roars, they fired wildly with sluggas, the crude bullets bouncing off ceramite armor or finding gaps between the plates. Choppas swung with brutal strength, aiming to cleave through anything in their path. But the Astartes were relentless, their precision and discipline cutting through the Orks without much effort.

As the fight continue, Sevran and his two Honor Guards advanced toward the Warboss. The massive greenskin loomed over them, his jagged armor covered in crude trophies taken from past battles. His power axe crackled with unstable energy as he let out a guttural laugh.

"Heh! Three little beakies think they can take on me?" The Warboss bellowed, slamming his fist against his chest. "Dis gonna be a good scrap!"

Sevran said nothing, instead lunging forward with his power sword, the blade humming with lethal energy as it slashed toward the Warboss's chest. At the same time, the Honor Guards swung their thunder hammers at the greenskin's legs, aiming to cripple him.

The Warboss barely managed to twist his body, Sevran's sword carving a deep gash into his armor but failing to land a killing blow. The thunder hammers, however, struck true. With a sickening crack, the massive Ork's knee buckled under the force, sending him staggering backward with a pained roar.

"Ya gits fight dirty!" The Warboss snarled, swinging his power axe wildly in retaliation, its unstable energy crackling as it carved through the air.

Sevran swiftly sidestepped to the left, evading the Warboss's swing and aiming to sever his axe-wielding arm. While one Honor Guard raise his power shield to block the incoming counterattack, the crackling energy of the Warboss's axe slamming against the shield with a deafening clang.

Sevran, seizing the opening, brought his power sword down in a precise arc, slicing into the Warboss's thick, muscle-bound arm. The energized blade carved through flesh and bone with ease, severing the limb just below the shoulder.

The Warboss scream in agony and rage, red blood spraying from the wound as his massive power axe clattered to the floor. But even maimed, the Ork still fought. With his remaining arm, he swung wildly at Sevran, attempting to grab or pummel him into the ground.

Before he could land a blow, the second Honor Guard stepped in, bringing his thunder hammer down in a crushing strike against the Warboss back, crushing his spine. With a louder scream, the Warboss collapse on his knees, even the other Orks stop and look towards him, their eyes full of fear.

With a swift and clean swing, the power sword carved cleanly through the Warboss's thick neck, severing his head in one swift stroke. The massive corpse slumped forward, hitting the deck with a dull, final thud.

The moment the Warboss fell, panic spread through the Orks. Some bellowed in rage, launching themselves at the Astartes in a mindless fury. Others hesitated, their confidence shattered. A few already turned and ran, shoving past their kin in desperation.

Sevran stepped onto the lifeless body, his gaze cold. "Purge them all," he commanded with cold voice.

As the Astarte clearing the bridge from Orks, Sevran order the ones that left behind to relocate to the bridge with all the wounded. He then contact the Iron Oath to request transportation to leave the vessel.

"Acknowledged, Grand Master. Thunderhawks en route. Estimated arrival in five minutes."

After the bridge have been clear and the whole company have regrouped, all of the Astarte stood far from the windows of the bridge. The Honor Guards stand infront of the whole company and raising their shields toward the windows.

Couple minutes later, multiple explosion happen and a large hole appear at where the windows once were. The explosive pressure from the blasts sent shockwaves through the bridge, rattling the Astartes and shaking the floors beneath their boots. Everything being suck out as the hole become larger and larger.

With the magnetic boots making sure they don't get suck out, they move closer to the enlarging hole. As they go closer, multiple Thunderhawks appear from the void, weaving around as they avoiding fires.

With a screech of metal, the forward ramps of the Thunderhawks slammed open and the Astartes from the 5th Company began to board. Boots clanked against the deck as they moved quickly, securing themselves in place as the gunships prepared for extraction.

The moment the whole 5th company finish boarding, the Thunderhawks lifted off from the breach, weaving through the chaos of the battlefield, their engines screeching as they headed toward the Iron Oath, escaping the vessel that started to disassemble itself.

"Captain," Sevran talk into his vox, communicating with the captain of Iron Oath. "What's the situation of the battle?"

"My lord, the Orks fleet are falling into chaos." The captain reply. "With the Warboss dead, the Orks are losing coordination. Much of their fleet are moving without purpose but some are organizing quicker. Though those that organizing are moving towards the Mandeville Point."

"Understood," Sevran said. "Order the fleet to destroy as much Ork warships as possible."

"Your will." The captain acknowledge.

As the void battle continue, the Thunderhawks have already enter the hangar and landed perfectly on the ground. With the ramps lower, the two heavy wounded Astartes are put into stasis fields as none of the companies present have Dreadnought in the Armoury, while the wounded Astartes are escorted by the Apothecaries to the Apothecarion for further treatment.

Sevran strode down the ramp, his armor barely scratched from the battle, the only difference being the thick layer of Ork blood coating it. Each step he took left faint traces of xenos gore on the hangar floor.

As he stepped onto the deck, a vox officer approached and saluted. "Grand Master, fleet reports Ork resistance is collapsing. The remaining vessels are being destroy. However, a handful of ships have reached the Mandeville Point."

Sevran nodded. "Regroup the fleet near the planet and prepare for planetary landing." Sevran order while walking toward the door with the officer and the Honor Guards in toll. "We must land quickly before the possible Ork return."

"As you command, Grand Master." The vox officer acknowledged before hurrying off to relay the orders.

Sevran continued toward the exit, his Honor Guard following in disciplined silence, their thunder hammers resting at their sides. The ship trembled slightly as the cannons fired another volley into the void, ensuring no more Ork vessels could escape.

The void battle only continue for 29 minutes with the total victory of the Imperium. The Imperium Battlegroup comprise of 1 battle barge, 2 strike cruisers, 1 squadron of Nova-class frigate and 3 squadrons of Gladius-class frigate from the Dark Knights' fleet, 1 Lunar-class cruiser, 2 Endeavour-class light cruiser, 3 squadrons of Sword-class frigate and 1 squadron of Cobra-class destroyer from the Sector Battlefleet.

Even though the Battlegroup is a powerful one, it's also suffer heavy casualties from the Ork ferocious counter-attack. 1 squadron equivalent of Gladius-class frigate suffer various damages to their vessels, 1 Endeavour-class light cruiser suffer heavy damage, all of the vessels have lose any combat capabilites and requiring immediate drydock maintenance. Most importantly, 2 squadrons of Sword-class frigates had been completely annihilated, their wreckage now floating as silent tombs in the void.

Despite these losses, the battle is won. The Orks fleet have been broken, with only small numbers of vessels and only 2 capital ships, cruiser size vessels escape their destruction. However, without a leader to unify them and a sizeable fleet, they posed little immediate threat.

While closing in on the hive world, a communication link was established with the planet's capital. Reports painted a grim picture, two of the four hive cities had already fallen. The defenses of Vaeros Nexus had been breached and Orks were now rampaging through its streets.

Receiving this critical information, Sevran ordered the 9th Company to deploy directly into Vaeros Nexus, as it possessed a large landing ground suitable for regiment deployment. The 9th Company would execute a two-wave assault, the first wave deploying via Drop Pods to secure key strategic positions and disrupt the Ork advance, while the second wave would arrive aboard Thunderhawks, reinforcing the initial strike and establishing a foothold for the Imperial forces.

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Sevran currently standing on the Iron Oath bridge. Looking outside, he can already see the Vindicator are deploying the 9th company, releasing waves of drop pods from its launch bay. The signature burning streaks from the drop pods carved bright trails through the atmosphere, illuminating the dark void around them.

Other than drop pods containing the Astartes, Deathstorm drop pods arms with assault cannons have also been deploy, aiming to clear the ground first so that the Astarte have a safe landing points.