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12/08/11(Thu)22:34 No.17150819Creed surveyed the battlefield, the testament to his skill. His Cadians had held the line bravely against the terrifying Ork WAAAUGH, only to beat back the foe again, and again, and again. Indeed, his voctory was almost complete.
He turned to his aide, issuing orders and commands. The commands spread over the vox channels, and his host performed just as planned. The Orks were given some headway into his forces, exposing their rear to the elite troops he had planted behind the field in secret.
Indeed, all was going just as he had expected it to. How could a simple Ork chieftain expect to out-maneuver the mighty Creed? He lit a cigar as the Ork host fell before him. He was a genius. A tact-
Suddenly, an array of drop pods fell from the sky. For the first time since the day began, Creed was confused. He hadn't requested any Space Marine backup, nor had he heard of any fleets in the region. What were these marines doing on his field?
The pods landed, their hatches opening to let loose a cloud of pigeons, partridges, and fowl of all nature.
Oh god. Not them.
Creed hastily issued more commands, pressing his men to make a final assault and ensure their - The Imperial Guard's- victory.
Cries of "Haters Gonna Hate" and "All Glory for the Partridges echoed from across the battlefield. Creeds lines faltered, as his own men began to cheer on the Galactic Partridge Space Marines, even as they butchered Ork and Guard alike.
Creed breathed deep from his cigar.
Fuck. |
