Onslaught at Resolute bay Meat Grinder Mission - 1000 points - Orks vs. Imperial Guard Battle Report: With the victory at NM-156 Moondog was in a position to stage a large-scale action against Resolute Bay, the major urban center on the Netherian Pennisula. He massed his armies and prepared them for the fight that lay ahead; there would be no reserves, no holding back, no looting - just slaughter of human gitz. Moondog had information from spies within the city that reinforcements were on the way, and would be arriving within hours; this left a window of opportunity that had to be siezed quickly. Da Boyz had to wipe out the defenders in an all-out attack, and then dig in to defend against the reinforcements before they arrived. Sympathizers to ex-governor Von Straub the traitor, had contacted Moondog and alerted him to the reinforcements. Their message to the ork warboss was simple: if the city was to be liberated from the Emperor, it had to be now. Moondog sent the spies back into the city, and promised to inform Von Straub of their loyalty and service. As the humans disappeared into the frozen city, Moondog turned to his Boyz and barked a command: Awlroit boyz! Yew knowz da plan! Gib 'em all! LETZ ROKK! Hundreds of ork voices were raised as one as the horde surged towards the walls of Resolute Bay. The defenders were outnumbered but determined to hold the line at the perimeter of the city. If the orks broke through, Resolute Bay would fall before reinforcements could arrive from the north, and the precious water processing plants that supply life giving water to the hive cities of Armageddon Secundus would be in the hands of the enemy. The coming battle was still more urgent for some, as certain of the units were levied from the inhabitants of Resolute Bay, whose families had been gathered into shelters. If this attack was not repulsed, they would be at the mercy of the greenskins. Tales from Armageddon Secundus had reached the taverns and trading houses of Netheria; tales of what fate had befallen those poor damned souls that were captured alive by the orks. Some were thrown into pits and made to fight each other to death for the amusement of a jeering crowd, some were used as slaves, labouring under the barbed whips of ork slavers in mines or on "squig farms" were all manner of abominable creatures were raised. Some were used in battle against the Imperium; painted green and given pointed sticks they were driven ahead of the ork hordes to be used as a living shield. They were inevitably mistaken for gretchin and mowed down by the forces that were meant to protect them. No able-bodied human within Resolute Bay could help but be hardened upon hearing these blood-chilling tales; they would stand together like a wall of ice, and though the orks would hammer with all their fury, they would not crack. No ork would enter the city while a single soldier drew breath. Two platoons of Imperial Guard were assembled to defend the city. The assigned garrisson of Preatorian Guard were fortified with local levies, and a company of Tallarn Fighters, enduring the cold as stoically as they would a desert sandstorm. They were from different corners of the Imperium, but they all thanked the Holy Emperor for the blessed armour; A Leman Russ Exterminator and a mighty Basilisk. Their salvation lay with these machines and their skilled crews. Clanking around the perimeter was a Sentinel Scout Walker, on the alert for signs of the enemy. The pilot waved to the troops reassuringly, but it brought no comfort to know that the enemy had not yet been spotted. This only meant that their ordeal was yet to begin; the waiting before a battle can drive a man to madness before a single shot is fired. The cruel southern wind moaned as the Imperial garrison strained their eyes toward the snowblown horizon. Knuckles whitened on the handles of lasguns, muscles tensed. Captain McBain of the Praetorian Regiment addressed his troops. The reinforcements will be here in two hours; we must buy one hundred and twenty minutes with less than sixty human lives. Hold them back! Do not retreat! If we fail, Resolute Bay will fall! Suddenly, one of the levies jumped up with a start, looking to the south. He then scrambled to the top of a barricade. His face went white as snow as he stagged back and tumbled down into a snow bank. His comrades rushed out to meet him as he gripped their arms, eyes wide with fear. They're coming! Moondog had arrived with a greed tide that would soon be smashing agaist the rocks of Resolute Bay with all the fury of the Wauugh! The Pipes o' Doom were rolled into position, and the Doomwagon revved it's turbo boosta, preparing for the charge. Captain McBain raised his chainsword. Fire! The fires of hell were unleashed upon the advancing orks. The Basilisk scored a hit upon the Pipes o' Doom, destroying one of the big gunz, and killing several gretchin krew. A field artillery autocannon of the Praetorian Guard scored a direct hit on the rampaging Doomwagon and it exploded in a shower of debris. One ork warrior's torso was vaporized as he was hit by a lascannon. Yet the advance continued. The Demolisher brought its guns to bear on a huge mob of boys and began to mow them down with heavy bolter fire. The snow turned sickly brownish red with the blood and gore of the dead orks as they shouted and fell and died in that hail of hot death. Yet the advance continued. The sentinel surged forwards, it's multilaser lighting up the grey evening with streaks of fire as it stomped towards the invaders. And still the advance continued. And then a pillar of fire engulfed the sentinel as it exploded - the orks had returned fire, rokkits streaking out from their seething mobs. Shells slammed into the ranks of Guardsmen as the Pipes o' Doom began their work. Ork heavy weapon fire was answering the humans, and trading blow for blow. But for every ork that was killed it seemed that two more would take his place, while the numbers of the defenders only dwindled... At last came a sound that caused some to drop to the frozen ground and tremble with terror, a rising savage cry, WAUUGH! and the orks fell upon the humans in a vicious assault. The tanks pivotted and fired their main armaments at point blank range, demolishing entire mobs in a single shot, yet still more came to take their place. Captain McBain himself was beset with the melee, and the standard stood perilously above the whirling melee, flappng in the antarctic wind. An ork lept forward through the skirmish and his axe found its mark. A deep wound was opened on the Captain's leg, and he nearly buckled, but Errol, the standard bearer came quickly from behind. Captain! Look out! A shot from his laspistol hit the ork square in the chest, and he fell to the ground. Good shot Errol, I - Thud - thud - thud - A great shadow fell across Captain McBain, who swore a silent oath as three huge lumbering monsters the likes of which were beyond his imagination stomped towards him. Shots were richocheting off their enormous mega-armour suits, their power claws snapping menacingly; Moondog and his bodyguards had found what they were looking for. By the Emperor's Mother! Errol! RUN! At that moment, there was a thundering explosion as a wave of rockets slammed into the Leman Russ and destroyed it utterly. McBain and Errol ran through the broken remains of a shattered building while Moondog roared and gave chase. DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA A hail of bullitz flew after the officers, and Errol fell, the banner falling into the brown gorey slush. Errol, no! But behind him he heard insane snickering and the crack of a whip as hot pellets ricocheted off McBain's brestplate armour and the surrounding rocks. No yew MAGGOTZ! Aim for 'iz hed! McBain looked desperately around in confusion and panic; he saw the Basilisk on its side, a burning wreck, orks running past shouting, one was holding a human head; he looked over to the ruined warehouse, the strongpoint of their defense, and the agreed upon place for their last stand and saw a sea of green swarming up its sides, the red coats of the Praetorians becoming fewer and fewer; and then he turned again and terror clutched his chest; he was face to face with the warboss Moondog. He was standing there, waiting for McBain to make his move. He cried out in desperation, For the Emperor! and brought his chainsword down at the huge ork's head. It snapped in half as a power claw closed its mandibles over it in a flash of sparks. 'Ere ya go, 'oomie git! As Moondog raised his power claw there was a shout. A column of Leman Russ tanks was spotted on the horizon coming from the north. Reinforcements had arrived. Resolute Bay remained standing. ZOG IT! There was a flash, and McBain fell to the icy ground in three ragged chunks. Moondog raised his bloodsoaked claw to the approaching tanks. Cheeze it boyz! We've 'ad it! MOVE OWT! The windblown snow drifted into the battlefield, eerily silent after the torrent of bloodshed, laying a facade of dignity over the sudden and violent deaths of these poor souls. The ork horde had taken a terrible toll in human lives; Yet Resolute Bay remained, and the day belonged to the Imperium. The red coats of the Praetorian Guard were still seen over the barricades, and the blood-spattered standard was recovered and flapped once more in the chill wind. Dylan - April 19, 2001