It took me close to 15 minutes to reach the Eastern wall section and I arrived in time to see an Imperial officer trying to assemble a group of guardsmen along the top of the wall. I was surprised at the ineptitude the PDF troopers displayed in following the orders, not understanding the need for equal spacing to maximize the effectiveness of their guns. They kept drifting towards each other, ending up in small clustered groups, barely able to aim properly the way they were pressing against each other.

"Huh. One would think they would be more experienced with this, considering they grew up on the planet" I thought to myself as I slammed against the parapet on top of the wall. Heavy gun emplacements were embedded along the bulwark that made up the city wall and experienced crews were busy hauling boxes of ammunition over in storage next to the gun while tech-priests were chanting their rites over the gun barrels and loading mechanisms.

The officer cast a glance in my direction, but as I was pressed against the wall, Lasgun pointed towards the east, he was satisfied and turned his attention to the more hopeless cases. A few more experienced soldiers made themselves comfortable against the wall while they waited.

I scanned the horizon and I noticed a small black blob on the horizon. To my horror, I saw it grow at a frightening rate, the horde of screaming and roaring greenskins surging towards the city like a green wave of violence and death. I watched the horde grow in size the closer it got to the walls, but I also noticed the lack of ranged weapons.

"FERAL ORKS INCOMING" An officer shouted and a visible shudder of relief passed through the ranks. Racking my brain for information on the orks, I remembered that they live in a society built squarely on the principle of *might makes right* And are always led by the biggest and most violent specimen the group has to offer. Being a symbiotic lifeform between the ork part and a symbiotic form of fungi, orks never stop growing. How much and how fast was determined by how much and how big enemies they were fighting. In theory, an ork would simply keep growing, throughout the centuries.

Feral ork were orks without a dedicated leader, or Warboss, as they called them. Limited to advanced stone-age technology tools and weapons, they were still an exceptionally dangerous enemy in melee combat on account of their enormous strengths and size, and the fact that an ork is only truly happy when they are fighting. What and how they are fighting matters less than the act of fighting itself.

Facing feral orks put us in relative safety as the chance of them shooting back was non-existent until they were right on top of the wall and could fire bows and arrows at the PDF troopers. Our Lasguns, on the other hand, had an effective firing range of 2-300 meters. Even with every ork taking multiple shots to take down, the distance they had to cross and the mounted heavy weapon emplacements consisting of heavy bolters*, missile systems, and artillery cannons, this was more a shooting lesson and less an active defense. Even so, I saw several commissars being approached by PDF officers who hurried away after a short while.

As more and more officers arrived, they had an easier time keeping the troopers spread out along the wall. Personally, I was eager to see what kind of XP I could gain. As I watched the horde grow, I felt my unease grow again, as there seemed to be no end to the constant stream of screaming Xeno's rolling over the horizon. Despite only having crude melee weapons and bows. That many orks would quite literally be able to use their dead to create a ramp to the top

The horde kept growing in size as they approached the city walls, far faster than I thought creatures of that size could move by their own speed and I felt sweat forming in heavy beads on my forehead. Being behind large walls, holding a gun, and knowing there are hundreds of your brothers in arms nearby, manning large static defenses, with just as much incentive to live, is all well and good. but no matter how ready you think you are, once the wall of sound from the orks hits you, you will know fear.

True, ice-finger gripping, spine-shivering, shit in your pants and pray to the higher powers, fear. The wall defenses opened up moments later, and all along the wall, gun emplacements began spitting rapid death across the battlefield in the form of bolts*. A creeping artillery barrage from the wall cannons started in front of the ork wave and started moving through their lines, blowing arms, legs, heads, and torsos in all directions.

Somehow, it only encouraged the orks, their roaring taking on an excited note. I started mumbling the litany of accuracy as I took aim. "Grant me the sight of the eagle, the calm of the breeze, the patience of a saint, and the skill to smite the foe from afar." And I heard the mumbling of the other PDF troopers around me. Risking a glance, I noticed the satisfied look on the nearby commissar's face and breathed out a sigh of relief. Nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of the wrath of a commissar**.

The orks kept coming. Through hellfire and death, they kept coming. One of the troopers along the wall threw his rifle away and started running, but he barely made it 3 steps before a large *BOOM* was heard and his chest exploded in a shower of blood and mushed organs.

"THERE WILL BE NO COWARDS TODAY! I WILL TOLERATE NO RETREAT!" The amplified voice of an older-looking commissar rang out across the entire wall. he must have a Respirator-Vox-Grill*** in his helmet. Moments later, he gave the order. "FIRE!! GLORY TO THE FIRST MAN TO DIE!!"

I lined up my Lasgun and started shooting into the bum-rushing pile of orks. Despite knowing it was a laser weapon, I was surprised at the lack of kickback. The novelty wore off quickly though, as I was busy trying to just get a kill. Again, it seemed the lore from my world was spot on. I could see my weapon hitting, but I could not see it have any effect. I started blasting as fast as I could and suddenly, I saw the familiar blinking at the edge of my vision.

Not hesitating, I opened the notification just to get an idea of what I was gaining from this.

ORK CHOPPA BOY**** KILLED. XP RECEIVED: 32.

I quickly dismissed the message with a thought and started blasting to my heart's content. At 32 XP per kill, I might see a level-up today if I am lucky. Another 9 times I saw the small flash of a notification in the corner of my vision before I heard a sharp whistle followed by the dreaded words.

"TROOPERS, FIX BAYONETS! EQUIP BAYONETS AND GET READY FOR BLOOD!" I heard the older commissar order. Without much of a choice, I unsheathed my bayonet and slid it into place over my Lasgun. "Weird. why are they using ring bayonets instead of socket bayonets? A socket bayonet allows you to keep it mounted on the rifle without obstructing your barrel or aim. The ring bayonet has both these drawbacks AND it can potentially pop off due to the design." I thought to myself as I ran down to assemble in front of the gate. I guess my only choice now is, the front or the back of the charge??