Argus thumbed the activation rune as he swung the chainsword, and the overworked engine growled to life once more, just as the teeth came into contact with a thick, green neck. The ork's savage warcry was interrupted by an equally savage gurgling sound. Green life fluids splashed across Argus as he decapitated the beast. Shaking the viscera off his weapon, he looked around.
Boreas parried a huge axe, then put his bolt pistol to the ork's temple and fired.
Grigor looked intensely at the ork shaman, breaking the greenskin's concentration for another spell. Derex stepped in neatly from the right, gunning down the alien witch.
All around him, the scouts executed the last of their enemies.
Oberon knelt, leaning on his missile launcher.
'Thank you, Argus.'
'Do not thank me, Oberon. It was only my duty. No one gets left behind.'
Oberon looked around, gesturing at the unconscious Karn and the others, all battered and bruised.
'We still have some way to go Extraction Point Theta. We are all wounded. You would have made better speed, and you - all of you - would be less worn and encumbered had you left me.'
Argus gave Oberon a long, hard look, then turned around and looked at each of them in turn.
'That is true. But we are the sons of Dorn. That is not our way. We stand as a fortress, united, a wall of flesh and steel and armored ceramite. We do not concede anything to the enemy - except our bolt shells and thrusts of our blades.'
Grigor grinned, and raised his heavy bolter.
'Right, brother! We've shown the greenskins our might today! For Dorn! For the Emperor!'
The Scouts raised their weapons, and gave a ragged cheer. Oberon nodded, and Argus took heart from the spirit of his squad.
And then the drums began to beat.
***
Alpha Squad was running once again. They had so far outpaced their pursuers, and gunned down several small parties of outriders. But the main body of the ork horde was on their heels, and Extraction Point Theta - an unremarkable hill, otherwise - was just in sight.
Argus stopped to survey the landscape. The hill was a patch of raised ground, barely above the surrounding woodlands. Against a conventional enemy, it would provide little protection. But the feral orks lacked firearms and artillery. Cover would not be needed.
There were 5 more standard hours to go until the extraction - Sergeant Dannicus had given them some leeway, and the orks hurried them past their usual pace. Judging by the drums and smoke in the near distance, they had one, maybe two hours to prepare. And then the orks would descend upon them, and all they had to do was to hold.
Argus looked around. Where a normal man would see trees, bushes, and grass, he saw pits, trenches and booby traps. Yes, they would hold. And they would give the greenskins hell to pay for each bloody meter of distance covered.
They would stand their ground.
For they were Space Marines, the Emperor's Angels of Death. They were the sons of Dorn. And they shall know no fear.
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