Stuck in Warhammer 40k(isekai)

Higher Spires

Author's note in regards to time: this chapter occurs in the one week timeskip at the end of Siege, Part 2. Near the ending of the chapter is on the present timeline. This chapter focus on orders Orion left when he went to storm the cultist fortress.

'Derek' swiftly traversed the debris-laden corridors of a decimated habitation block, with 'Nigel' accompanying him at his flank. The grey plasteel and rockcrete had suffered further degradation due to the looting perpetrated by the greenskins. Both of them were equipped with hot-shot lasguns.

"Eet eez nice to run again, to act as shok troopairs." 'Derek' spoke with a wry humour in his voice, even if it was somewhat altered by the confines of his helmet. His accent bore little resemblance to anything one might encounter at the lower echelons of society. It was a remnant of the first settlers of Tematur, an accent that persisted only among the higher spires and the nobility as the world transitioned into a hive-like existence. Both stormtroopers paused as they entered a room within the hab-block, where a considerable breach in the wall afforded a view of the megastructure known as Hive Selucia. This habitation block was situated adjacent to a former artisan district. Here, the lower 'middle' class of the hive resided, with an array of shops lining multiple levels alongside an expansive archway facilitating the transit of both people and goods, albeit with numerous escalators and ferrocrete staircases now in disrepair that led to designated areas for various crafts. It was on the middle hive, thus a little bit of sunlight made it to this point.

The artisans dwelled within the hab-block through which the two stormtroopers moved, which was evidently more spacious in comparison to the rooms found at the lower levels. These hab-blocks accommodated a single family per room, whilst the lower areas saw multiple families sharing a single space. Captain Cairus spoke to them that during a strategic meeting concerning the operation—prior to the incursion of the Angels of Death upon the fortress of the mutant cults—Lord Orion likened the artisan districts to an 'imperium style mega shopping mall'. The Captain swears that he distinctly heard the Lord Orion emit a chuckle whilst perusing the schematics of the location as a route to the elevated spires.

The two stormtroopers subsequently reclined upon the ground, proceeding with utmost caution towards the edge of the breach in the wall. They astutely aligned their hot-shot lasguns to provide a vantage point over the field of conflict whilst awaiting the signal. As they remained in this suspenseful tension, 'Derek' was met with a light tap upon his helmet from 'Nigel'.

"Stop speaking like a noble idiot," 'Nigel' said, his voice distorted by the helmet."Lord Markus specifically ordered us to speak like the lower levels. By the Throne, Markus speaks as if he was a street urchin all his life"

"Yeah, yeah, I get why. It was the stupidity of nobles that caused the hives to fall" Derek remarked as he methodically adjusted the sight of his weapon. Through the scope, he observed the unsettling movements below, the air thick with a foul stench. Ork 'hygiene' at the work. The artisan block had been further pillaged by the new occupants, but not in search of glittering trinkets. Instead, the materials were violently stripped from the walls, repurposed into the makeshift barricade surrounding the ork fort that was rapidly materialising at the heart of the artisan district, which features multiple levels interconnected by bridges, archways and 4 grand staircases in each corner, linking the different levels. This makeshift redoubt was expanding by the moment. However, these orks were decidedly primitive, even more so than the previous encounter. Their building methods were hardly sophisticated... it appeared as though they merely haphazardly piled trash upon their palisades..

"They don't even have blades. Only clubs or shitty hammers" Nigel remarked, adjusting the alignment of the hot-shot lasgun with greater precision. Both he and his companion were now excessively swinging the 'gate' from their vantage point, which was, in all honesty, nothing more than a panel torn from a derelict shop, repurposed into a door that was raised each time an ork passed through. A particularly boisterous Nob derived considerable amusement from commanding the ork boys to raise the gate to permit passage, meting out violence to those who dared to refuse. As one approached the fort, the terrain grew increasingly desolate and denuded, often revealing only the unrefined support beams, whilst the ground bore haphazard holes. Derek was fortunate to discern a number of items amidst the debris that could be regarded as luxuries, even within the circles of nobility. What a lamentable sight