The GrimOne thundered forward, its engines roaring as the colossal battle barge accelerated toward the heart of the Ork fleet. The crew braced themselves, knowing full well the brutal impact that awaited them. Void shields flickered in the onslaught of Ork fire, and the ship’s hull groaned under the strain. But the Cardinal Phoenixes would not falter.
Lysandros gripped the edge of the command console, his gaze locked on the Ork flagship growing larger on the hololithic display. “Impact in twenty seconds,” a Techmarine announced, his mechanical voice calm amidst the chaos.
“Hold steady!” Lysandros barked. “All power to forward shields and engines! We’ll rip through them like a blade through heretic flesh.”
The GrimOne’s prow glowed with the force of its void shields at maximum strength, a battering ram of energy set to carve its way through the enemy. Ork ships closed in, some attempting to veer out of the battle barge’s path, while others blindly fired their crude cannons in a last-ditch effort to halt the charge.
Lysandros’s heart pounded as the moment approached. The mighty vessel hurtled toward the Ork flagship, a behemoth of ramshackle metal and haphazard design. “For Sanguinius! For the Emperor!” he roared, as did the bridge crew in unison.
The collision was seismic.
The GrimOne tore through the Ork flagship with a deafening crash of metal against metal. Explosions rippled across the greenskin vessel as its hull crumpled under the Imperial ship’s prow. Ork bodies and debris were hurled into the void, consumed by the firestorm of destruction. The GrimOne powered through, its reinforced prow cleaving the Ork vessel in two, continuing its deadly charge even as smaller Ork ships tried to swarm its flanks.
“Shields holding, but damage to portside hull is critical!” a serf called out from his station, sparks flying from the console as another Ork cruiser fired at close range.
“Keep us on course!” Lysandros commanded. “We break through, or we die in this cursed void!”
The Ork fleet, thrown into chaos by the destruction of their flagship, began to turn on itself. True to Orkish nature, many of the greenskin vessels, deprived of leadership, began to fire wildly, some even colliding with one another in the frenzy of battle. But not all of them were so disorganized. Several Ork gunships made a desperate lunge toward the GrimOne, unloading everything they had.
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“Multiple boarding craft inbound!” the Techmarine shouted. “They’re attempting to breach the lower decks!”
“Deploy the 5th Company,” Lysandros growled, his voice hard as iron. “Let the Orks come—we will meet them with bolter and blade.”
The interior of the GrimOne was no less chaotic than the space battle outside. Boarding alarms blared throughout the ship, and squads of battle-brothers hurried to their positions. In the lower decks, where the Ork boarding pods were predicted to land, Brother-Captain Tytus and his men prepared for the inevitable storm.
“Brothers!” Tytus called out to his company. “The Orks seek to breach our ship, to soil the sanctity of our Chapter’s halls. Let them come! We will meet them with fury and purge every last xenos from our midst!”
The 5th Company roared in response, their bolters primed and chainswords revving with bloodthirsty anticipation. They stood in formation, their crimson armor gleaming in the flickering lights of the war-torn corridors. Heavy bolter teams took up position along the entry points, while assault squads perched high, ready to drop down and ambush the incoming Orks.
Moments later, the first of the Ork boarding pods slammed into the GrimOne’s hull, crashing through the bulkheads with a screech of tearing metal. The pods burst open with explosive force, and from them spilled a tide of green-skinned monstrosities, bellowing war cries and brandishing crude weapons.
“WAAAGH!!” the Orks screamed as they charged.
“Fire!” Tytus roared.
A wall of bolter fire erupted from the Space Marines, cutting into the onrushing Orks with deadly precision. The greenskins fell in droves, their bodies torn apart by the explosive rounds. But still, they came, relentless in their assault. Ork Nobz, massive brutes clad in scavenged armor, barreled forward, shrugging off smaller wounds as they swung massive cleavers at the Space Marines.
Tytus met one of the Nobz head-on, his power sword crackling with energy as he brought it down in a swift arc, cleaving the beast’s arm from its body. The Ork howled in pain but swung its remaining fist at Tytus with surprising speed. The blow glanced off the Captain’s shoulder guard, sending a shock of force through his arm, but he did not falter. With a swift follow-up strike, Tytus drove his blade into the Ork’s throat, severing its head from its shoulders in a spray of dark blood.
“Hold the line!” he shouted, as more Orks poured through the breaches. “Push them back!”
The battle for the GrimOne’s lower decks raged as Space Marines and Orks clashed in brutal hand-to-hand combat. Chainswords roared, bolters barked, and the cries of the dying echoed through the corridors.
Lysandros stood firm at the helm, his eyes fixed on the planet of Throne of Galat looming ever closer. The Ork fleet was fracturing, but their madness still threatened to overwhelm the Imperial ships. He knew they had only minutes before the full force of the Orks turned upon them once more.
“Commander Lysandros,” a serf called out, “we are nearing the orbital range of the planet. Should we prepare for planetfall?”
Lysandros nodded, his gaze hard as stone. “Yes. Prepare the drop pods and Thunderhawks. We will deliver the emperor’s wrath upon these greenskin filth.”
He turned to the vox console, his voice booming across the fleet. “All companies, prepare for planetary assault. The Orks will not stop until we wipe them from the face of this world. For Sanguinius. For the Emperor. Death in His name!”
As the command went out, the GrimOne’s launch bays opened, revealing the ranks of Thunderhawks and drop pods waiting to descend upon the surface. The full 5th and 10th Companies deployed, bloodied but unbroken, descend to deliver their vengeance upon Throne of Galat.
The war had begun.