The orks streamed up to the top only to hit a wall of bolter fire streaming down at the tide of green from the top of the landing pad. Devrick didn’t even need to look from where the bolter fire was coming. He knew instantly that his brothers were manning the defense turrets. He prayed that the Thunderhawk would arrive before the turrets ran out of ammo.
Devrick reached the top and nodded his thanks to brother-sergeant Bentel, who nodded in return and threw him a clip of bolt pistol ammo, “you’ll need this I think,” he said.
“What about you, brother? Is this not your last clip?” Devrick asked.
Bentel smiled, and drew out his chainsword, flipping the activation switch, “I’ll be fine brother.”
Devrick nodded and slammed the clip into his pistol. At his side was brother Venta, his melta gun in one hand, a combat knife in the other.
The bolter turrets began to clip empty as the wave of green rushed to the top of the landing pad, finally unimpeded.
As the orks ran up the ramp Venta heard the whoosh of the thunderhawk gunship approaching, he thanked the Emperor as the ship activated its automated heavy bolter turrets at the green horde.
Still, the orks were not too stopped. Several made their way to the top of the landing pad, and rushed the space marine squad. Devrick smiled as they were cut to pieces by him and his brothers.
The Thunderhawk landed and the marines jumped on, just as twenty more of the orks made their way up the ramp. The orks, seeing their prey escaping roared in anger and fired their crude guns at the space marine transport, the bullets pinging off the ship harmlessly.
“Brother Fendar,” Devrick began, “we are in your debt, I am sure that I speak for all of us when I say, we owe you our lives.”
“Do not thank me yet, brother, we aren’t out of the woods yet, ork fightabombaz are everywhere, and we may yet be knocked out of the sky by them.
“Nonetheless, I thank you, brother.”
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The marine looked over the barrier, targeted an ork, and released a single bolt aimed right for the creature’s face. The bolt hit and the ork’s head exploded in a shower of green gore.
All around the warrior his brothers fired their bolt guns at the oncoming horde of greenskins. Already some of the creatures were close enough for Brother Venta to unleash his melta gun’s deadly rays, melting the ork warriors to molten slag.
One of the beasts rushed for Devrick, yelling out a guttural war cry, brandishing his huge axe and firing his pistol.
The few shots that hit Devrick’s armor pinged off harmlessly. In reply to the ork’s charge, Devrick simply aimed his gun for the creature’s chest and pressed his boltgun’s trigger thrice, turning the ork into a mesh of blood and gore in a matter of seconds.
“Black Suns! Fall back! Fall back to the landing pad!” came the shout over the Battle Squadrons vox channel.
“This is Brother-Sergeant Fendar! Thunderhawk’s ETA is ten standard minutes! Fall back to the landing pad and await our arrival!” The marines all silently sounded off their replies, and the vox flipped off.
Devrick fired his last two bullets at an oncoming nob, ejected the ammo clip and smashed his last clip into his gun. “Devrick! I need you to cover the squad!” Brother-sergeant Bentel ordered.
“I copy brother,” Devrick replied.
The nine other marines fell back, leaving Devrick alone at the bottom of the landing pad ramp. Switching his gun to full auto, Devrick aimed at the center of the ork horde and held down the trigger till he had used all thirty of his bullets. He then drew out his bolt pistol, dropped his now useless boltgun and ran backwards, firing at the nearest orks until that gun too was empty.
