A large grin, a most uncommon expression among the Commissars, had stretched itself over the face of Avitus as he listened to the colossal planetary defence guns fire. The larger ones lobbed shells so potent and dreadful that their very firing caused slight tremors in the ground beside them, and vibrated the very air itself. Avitus knew however, that his attention was not to be spent merely gazing upon the defence guns, but was best spent making sure his men were actually in position - The dreaded idea that any of soldiers should be incompetent was forever taxing the Commissar-General.<br/><br/>Grabbing the nearest available vox operator, who was stood by himself and doing nothing of any note, Avitus barked the orders to him. "I want all officers reporting their units in positions! Am I clear?!"<br/>The reply from the vox operator was a short and terrified looking nod as scrambled to open vox channels across the fortress. His voice sounded almost meek compared to the booming shout of the Commissar that was towering over him, but he managed his task. "All channels! Report positions!" As he uttered the words, various officers methodically reported their current positions in the fort. The vox operator then relayed this information to Avitus.<br/><br/>"Nigh all men are in position, sir!" He said to the commissar, the previously terrified look having subsided to something of a mix between uncertainty and joy at the readiness of his fellow Guardsmen.<br/>"Wonderful. Inform the planetary defences to focus fire on the larger Ork ships when they break into range. We can cleanse the filth of the lesser hordes, but to have us drown in Greenskins is not an option!" With that, Avitus walked off to direct his personal unit of elite Guardsmen. As to be expected, the vox operator breathed a sigh of relief as the chances of him receiving a bolt to the head lessened immensely.<br/><br/>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/>Having set himself no menial tasks, for no Ork Boss would work when he could get his goons to do the work for him, Vadug made his way up towards the Kaptin of the vessel. He passed numerous frantically preparing mekboyz and entire living carpets of grot orderlies, many of which had oil squigz slung over shoulders or toolboxes in hand. As far as the Big Mek was concerned, the attack thus far was going favourably. The Ooman' spacecraft had been nigh on decimated to the last, and their fancy dakka on the planet couldn't kill off<span style="font-style: italic">every</span>boy that tried his luck in planetfall.<br/><br/>"Itz a bloody sight out dere Kaptin. Dem Ooman'z ain't got a zoggin' clue wot 'it em!" Vadug proclaimed, now standing beside the hulking Kaptin of the Ramma O' Gork. As a trusted second in command, who 'does bloody everyfing!', Vadug was in rare position of actually being permitted to stand remotely near the Kaptin...at least compared to the others on board the ship.<br/><br/>"My Mekboyz iz nearly ready, boss. Soon dere Rokz will be going down dere, and krumping sum Oomanz. Dem gitz dat can't wait iz useful fer lettin' da oomanz waste dere dakka...meanz less lootin' 'arever." He added, somewhat solemnly considering that human planetary defence gun shells were worth a whole mob of Orkz' teeth for years on end. Though Vadug's fascination was more in their sheer killing potential. "Wot I could do wiv a<span style="font-style: italic"> few hundred </span>of dem shellz..." He muttered.