Crack!
Dukel snapped the neck of the last Stormboy with a swift motion. Standing amidst the carnage, he halted his charge and began surveying the surrounding terrain. His keen eyes scanned the orc forces from the concealment of the jungle, his movements as silent and deliberate as a predator stalking its prey.
"Send me the map of the surrounding area," he ordered through the built-in vox-link to the command center aboard the strike cruiser.
A moment later, a holographic projection materialized before him. The display was hazy and indistinct, showing only the rough outlines of the terrain and the approximate positions of the orc army. The interference of the orks' Waaagh! energy field was disrupting Imperial reconnaissance systems, rendering them unreliable.
Combining the map with his own observations, Dukel formed a clearer understanding of the situation. The orc army stretched across millions of troops, their formations sprawling over hundreds of kilometers. The warlord Bonecrusher's location was obscured, but Dukel's sharp instincts and methodical scouting narrowed it down to an area roughly fifty kilometers across.
"A decapitation strike," he muttered to himself. The Tyranids had taught the Imperium well: wars are won by striking at the head.
The prospect of facing billions of orks across an entire planet was ludicrous, even for a force as mighty as the Emperor's Astartes. Discretion had guided their mission so far, with Dukel's troops avoiding direct engagements while sabotaging supply lines and whittling down enemy strength. But now, with Bonecrusher's approximate location identified, the odds could be shifted.
"Shivara," Dukel voxed, "disperse the escort teams. Deploy them to coordinates 73.63 and 15.22."
He rattled off twenty-two sets of coordinates with practiced ease. "Once in position, activate the mind matrix immediately."
"Acknowledged," came Shivara's reply. Once a Sister Repentia, she had risen through the ranks after joining the Heartnet and now served as the captain of the Primarch's personal guard.
"Political Commissar No. 22," Dukel continued, "lead the Krieg regiments in a tug-of-war against the outermost orc ground units. Keep them occupied."
"Yes, sir!" came the Commissar's unflinching reply. Krieg soldiers had no names—only numbers. Born for war, they knew no purpose beyond obedience and sacrifice.
"Kane," Dukel instructed next, "deploy the Valhallan regiments for fire support. Fortify your position and harass the orks attempting to reinforce Bonecrusher. The task is heavy; proceed with caution."
"Understood, sir!" Kane's voice carried newfound determination, a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor. Though he often seemed hesitant or unassuming, his battlefield prowess as a political commissar was unmatched.
"Gray," Dukel addressed the Ultramarines captain, "prepare your company for airdrop operations. Stand by for heavy firepower deployment on my signal."
"Yes, my lord!" Gray's voice was resolute. Once loyal to Ultramar, he had pledged allegiance to Dukel and now commanded the strike cruiser's reserve forces, including Dreadnoughts and Knight Titans poised for battle.
With his orders issued, Dukel clenched his chainsword, its teeth revving in anticipation. "Gentlemen, for humanity!"
"For the Emperor!" came the unified response from the vox-link.
Dukel bent his knees and launched himself skyward, his immense physique propelling him like a spring. He soared through the air and descended with the force of a comet into the heart of the orc formation.
BOOM!
The ground shuddered under the impact. A visible shockwave rippled outward, scattering orks like ragdolls.
"You greenskin vermin! Come meet your end!" Dukel bellowed, his voice booming over the chaos. The growl of his chainsword melded with the screams of dying orks as he tore through their ranks. His movements were a blur of divine precision and unstoppable power. Corpses were hurled skyward, some landing hundreds of meters away.
Before the dust settled, a small squad of orks lay decimated. Those still alive blinked in stunned disbelief.
"Enemy attack!" one of them shouted, rallying the horde. Waves of orks surged toward the lone warrior.
"What in Gork's name?" snarled a greenskin boss. "Are those Blood Axes muckin' about again?"
The orks' confusion deepened as they saw only a single figure. But before they could act, Dukel leapt high into the air and slammed down again.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each impact sent shockwaves tearing through the orks, rupturing their bodies with concussive force. Blood and gore rained as the Primarch carved a path through the green tide.
At the edge of the battlefield, Shivara and her squad advanced with surgical precision. The Primarch's elite guard wielded monomolecular blades, dispatching orks with silent efficiency. Every strike was deliberate, their discipline unshaken even as blood soaked the ground.
"Second coordinate secure," Shivara voxed. She didn't have time to finish her report before a massive ork lunged from the underbrush.
The greenskin loomed over her, a hulking brute more than three meters tall. His oversized fists reached for her, his toothy grin promising violence.
But Shivara moved first. She caught his face with one hand and yanked him forward, driving her armored fist into his skull.
CRACK!
One punch. Two punches. Three. The ork's head exploded in a shower of blood and bone, but she didn't stop, her blows turning his remains to pulp. When she finally relented, she tossed the lifeless body aside like a broken toy.
"Coordinate two secure," she repeated, wiping blood from her face.
Around her, the Heartnet elites pressed forward, their biomagnetic fields resonating with overwhelming strength. These warriors, handpicked by Dukel, were the epitome of Imperial might.
As Dukel continued his rampage, the ork war machines opened fire. Ramshackle tanks and crude artillery unleashed volleys of heavy firepower, their crude ingenuity made deadly by sheer volume.
The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of destruction. Yet amidst it all, Dukel's voice rose above the din, a beacon of fury and purpose.
"For humanity! For the Emperor!"
...
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