“Hold for a moment Gorlin. Hagrdict, let’s get everyone patched up. Losis, overwatch if you would.”

A chorus of affirmatives comes back, and your squad moves smoothly into a mass casualty drill. Hagrdict moves from man to man, administering first aid while everyone else rotates through overwatch and applying armor cement to re-seal their power armor.

First aid applied: +6 health.

Armor cement applied: Power armor is now atmospherically sealed.

11 Health remaining.

Sixty seconds later and your squad is good to go. Everyone's health indicator is now the yellow of minor injuries, all breaches in power armor are sealed up tight, and you have a way forward. Gorlin leads the way deeper into the ork ship.

Four hours later and you find yourself in a large hold filled with sparking lumps of metal. Some of them have glowing patches, others have forests of protruding levers or scabs of buttons. After a few minutes of investigation, you figure out that this must be some sort of orkish cogitator bank. You have absolutely no idea what any of the ‘cogitators’ around you do, except perhaps something to do with the ork teleportarium that exploded around you. You glance around the hold, estimating it to be perhaps a hundred meters wide and three hundred meters long. None of the cogitators survived the destruction of the ork teleportarium, if they were ever functional in the first place, and most are no more than waist-high lumps of scrap metal now.

“GIVE IT SUM DAKKA BOYS!”

Hagrdict staggers as a bullet thumps into his chest. The rest of the poorly-aimed salvo spalls and splatters harmlessly of the deck and cogitator banks near him. Another long burst comes out of the hold, aimed in Gorlin's general direction, but hitting nothing. An ork comes out from behind a lump of metal ninety meters away with a burna clutched in its grubby fingers, moving quickly in your direction. Hagrdict takes a few more hits in the right arm. You can hear his grunt of discomfort over the inter-suit vox, and his status light flickers to orange. Gorlin takes a trio of hits in his cybernetic right leg, but shrugs them off. A monstrous salvo of heavy bullets rip into Losis, most of them striking about his head and shoulders. He is thrown violently to the deck, his helmet in splintered tatters, blood pouring from its interior. Amazingly, Losis’ status light is blinking the crimson of heavy critical damage instead of the flat black of death. A few more lighter bullets splatter near him, some spalling off his left arm, but his status light keeps blinking. Another burna wielding ork vaults a pile of scrap. Hagrdict goes down hard as a long stream of bullets amputates his left leg almost at the hip, his status light blinking crimson. Four more burna-welding orks emerge from behind various bits of cover, headed your way.

Gorlin slides down next to Losis and takes up his heavy bolter, “srgh. Sorry kid, gonna need this for a bit.” He drags both into what cover he can find and sets up to return fire.

In doing so he draws the attention of some of the orks, and their fire. Three streams of bullets kick up chips of metal and rust all around him, some of them even hitting him, but he shrugs them off like they were nothing. The nearest burna-wielding ork closes to seventy-two meters under their ‘covering fire’.

You grab Hagrdict and pull him behind another lump of slag. You have to leave his severed leg behind, but it won’t do him any good in this fight anyway. You snap off a shot with your bolter, aiming for the source of the heavier bullets, probably an ork Loota with a deffgun.

Single shot from Bolter (magazine #1 - Standard Bolts): +0% to hit. Magazine is now at 27/28 rounds.

Fire at ork Loota: Success! needed <58, got 48.

Damage inflicted: 2d10+5 explosive. Result: 16.

You have the satisfaction of hearing the Loota howl in agony as your shot connects, but it is still alive.

“OI! MY HAT! NOW YA GONE AN’ DONE IT YA STUPID HUMIE!”

You definitely pissed it off. Your pile of slag, the surrounding deck plates, and ceiling are peppered with dozens of bullets large and small. Nothing actually manages to hit you or Hagrdict, which is no small relief. The second burna ork creeps forward to join the first seventy-two meters away.

Hagrdict and Losis both stir, clearly coming back to consciousness and dealing with the resulting agony. They will be out of the fight for another few precious seconds.

An ork pops out of cover and fires a wild, inaccurate burst in Gorlin’s general direction. The last four burnas dash forward to join their brethren. They are all bunched up together, if you could just get a grenade in their midst…

Gorlin unleashes a long, suppressive burst form Losis’ heavy bolter, looking to pin down the Loota and his two cronies. Both the Loota and one of its fellow orks make the mistake of not ducking: they come apart in sprays of green slime.

Gorlin’s attack is answered with wild sprays of bullets from other orks. Most of them miss Gorlin, but not the imobile Losis. He wheezes in pain as two or three bullets find weaknesses in his breastplate. His health indicator on your HUD flickers black for a moment, but doesn’t go out completely.

You eye the burna welding orks; seventy-two meters away, they aren’t yet a threat. The orks with the damned shootas, on the other hand, are slowly picking your squad apart. Not too much you can do about that except shoot back. You spot one of the bastards prancing around out of cover and decide to teach him the error of his ways.

Full auto burst from Bolter (magazine #1 - Standard Bolts): +30% to hit. Magazine is now at 23/28 rounds.

Fire at ork Loota: Success! needed <88, got 09.

Damage inflicted: 8d10+20 explosive. Result: 59.

Critical Hit! One damage die rolled a 10: inflict a further 2d10+5 damage. Result: 80 total damage.

The ork in question is torn into gratifyingly small chunks by the explosions of your bolts.

A spray of return fire comes your way, but none of the bullets come within six meters of your actual position. Another burst actually manages to hit Gorlin’s cover, but leaves the man himself unscathed. The burna orks have clumped up, and rush forward another eighteen meters. You eye the distance and estimate they will be in firing range in another twelve seconds.

Gorlin switches targets and splatters another ork across the deckplate. He takes a hail of shoota bullets for his efforts; his breastplate buckles under the barrage and his right arm flops to the deck, severed at the elbow. His status light goes from yellow to blinking crimson.

You are now the only effective combatant left standing from your squad. You’ve seen worse odds and all three of your battle brothers will live if you can eliminate the orks closing in to finish you off. The clock is ticking down as the Burna orks rush in, but you have a few seconds left to act. You pull one of your frags from your belt and heave it at the clump of burna orks. Clustered so close together, it should hit at least some of them.

Throwing frag AP grenade: +0% to hit. 2 grenades remaining. Range is long: -10% to hit.

Throw grenade at Burna orks: Direct Hit! needed <58, got 08.

Orks attempt to dodge out of the blast radius: none make it.

Grenade detonates, dealing 2d10 explosive damage. Result: 13.

Critical Hit! One damage die rolled a 10: inflict a further 2d10 damage. Result: 27 total damage.

The orks are blown from their feet, tossed to the deck in graceless arks. Far more satisfying is the gouts of flame from ruptured burna fuel tanks. Seconds later one of the tanks cooks off, engulfing all six ork corpses in fire. It is now a one against three fight.

Hagrdict moans and twitches next to you, coming awake and sorting out what is going on. “What in Sigismund's name…?”

“Ork ambush. Mass casualty scenario, and you’re short a leg.”

“Shit.”

“We are in it, what about it?” A spray of shoota bullets whips past you. “Little busy at the moment, sorry.”

Gorlin twitches, but is a long way from getting back in the fight.

Dodge incoming fire: +0%. Success: needed <44, got 04.

You twist out of the way of another cone of shoota slugs: most of them would have missed you, but a trio in the salvo would have plowed into your chest with potentially lethal force.

Full auto burst from Bolter (magazine #1 - Standard Bolts): +30% to hit. Magazine is now at 19/28 rounds.

Fire at ork with shoota: Success! needed <88, got 56.

Damage inflicted: 8d10+20 explosive. Result: 67.

Critical Hit! One damage die rolled a 10: inflict a further 2d10+5 damage. Result: 74 total damage.

You return the ork’s fire and you don’t miss. The ork attempts to duck back down behind its pile of scrap, but all that does is make your rounds decapitate it with a satisfyingly gory spray of ichor.

Hagrdict shakes his head, grabs his bolter, and pulls himself up onto the pile of scrap next to you. “Leave some for me Hunter!”

“Stop laying on your ass and start shooting then!”

Losis and Gorlin both groan, but neither gets back up.

The two remaining orks empty their shootas at you, but only one round spalls Inefectually off of your breastplate.

“Left one is mine.” You pump an automatic spray of bolts at the ‘claimed’ ork.

Full auto burst from Bolter (magazine #1 - Standard Bolts): +30% to hit. Magazine is now at 15/28 rounds.

Fire at ork with shoota: Failure! needed <88, got 94.

Spent Fate to re-roll to hit dice. Success! Needed <88, got 51.

Damage inflicted: 8d10+20 explosive. Result: 67.

You jerk your shot, the bots going wide left, but the ork happens to dive that way in an attempt to evade your fire. The end result is that he ‘caught’ your bolts, with the predictable fatal effect.

Hagrdict blows the last ork away in a spray of bolts, then slumps to the scrap pile in exhaustion. “Thank Sigismund, Dorn, and the God-Emperor for our victory this day.”

“It’s not over yet. Get Gorlin and Losis back on their feet, we need to get out of here before more orks come to investigate.”

“Lend me a hand over to them then.”

Mission 3: Frozen Night failed!

Stockpile Update:

870 rounds of 0.75 caliber bolt ammunition. Suitable for bolters and bolt pistols. 136 rounds of 0.75 caliber Hellfire bolt ammunition. Suitable for bolters and bolt pistols.

Specialist rounds for special targets; Hellfire Ammunition bypasses all natural or organic armor, and liquefies the target from the inside out.

1270 rounds of 1.57 caliber heavy bolt ammunition. Suitable for heavy bolters. 20x frag AP grenades, hand throwable. 22x krak AT grenades, hand throwable. 70x units of armor repair cement, for patching armor breaches in the field. Enough combat rations to feed your squad for nineteen weeks.

Rewards: The Marks of Duty

Primary objective (recon gridpoints F5 to G6) Failed +0 XP Hidden primary objective Failed: +0 XP Secondary objective completed: +125 XP +1 Renown: Completed all secondary objectives +1 Renown: Completed personal objective

Current Level: 1 (out of 8)

Current Renown: 19 (out of 100) - Deathwatch Initiate

As you watch the Thunderhawk depart from one of the portholes, carrying Hagrdict and Gorlin off to get cybernetics and augmetics fitted, Losis leans next to you. His head is still bandaged where Hagrdict set Losis’ fractured skull back into place, and his youthful face is now scarred from helmet-shrapnel.

“We’re going back after those orks, right Hunter?”