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The ground, was moving. Jogging up and down. Bouncing and spinning.
Something in the distance let out a shriek. It grew louder into a deep hollow vibrating. It stopped for a second then a flash, his eyes opened!

Pain flushed through his body, he could smell death in the air. Warning studs had already flown up all over his helmet. Beeping and moaning at him with multi-colored lights. His machine spirit interface started displaying information but his eyes couldn't focus. He was dizzy and his mind was just starting to collect it's self. The world around him bounced again and again. Every time it moved a pain flushed through his back and legs, he could suppress the pain, it was just a feeling. He tried moving his arms but he couldn't. He tried to lift himself up, or what he thought was up and he couldn't Something was tied around his massive power armored figure. Finally his eyes focused, he could see out of the red lens of his Mk7 pattern helm. He was on a battlefield, the wrong side of the battlefield. He could see Guardsmen running about on the other side, tank shells flying over his head. The banner poles of the Emperor flung high in the sky.

Finally Brother Aleksander realized what was going on as he felt something tug on his helmet. He must have been out for a while, the displayed information that was shown to him mentioned he had two fist sized holes in his right leg and a primitive power fist had hit him square in the chest several times. Then it started again another tug, he finally moved his head and looked up. He stared into the scared face of a grot trying franticly to remove his helmet or his head.

The Creature jumped when he moved and scrambled into a hole somewhere.
Brother Aleksander was chained to the side of an Orkish battlewagon. They had been Imperial chains he could tell they had been crafted finally and they could hold the marine down. They crisscrossed all over his power armor. You probably couldn't see much of the rest of him they have been chained so closely. They must of thought he was dead when he was knocked out by those two hits from the power fist.

"Emperor give me strength and guidance, let me take your revenge to these damn xenos.", he uttered to himself as he tried once again to struggle free. But in his weekend stated he could only do so much.

He thought to himself of his brothers they had been sent to this planet in take command of the disorganized Imperial Guardsmen force. That was before their Thunder hawk was hit with almost 200 orkish rokkits. It crash landed in the middle of Ork held territory and they had been mobbed. A giant war boss standing 11 feet tall smashed him in the chest twice with some sort of power fist. Before Aleksander went down he put two bolter rounds into the head of the creature, he saw it fall limp to the ground then he fell backwards. The last thing he saw was Brother Chardamine the Apothecary. He said something but by that time Aleksander was already falling faint and could not understand it. Now this, what became of his brothers? Had the orks slain them, such a powerful group of warriors wouldn't of gone down without a fight. They surely would of killed hundreds of the orks before they would have been overrun.
The Vehicle bounced again, sputtering to a stop. Black smoke erupted from somewhere underneath him and clouded his vision for a few seconds. He saw a door fall down and a mob of orks ran out into a trench slaughtering guardsmen as they moved.
He struggled again to get free, but no luck. Maybe at full strength he could have but not right now. He tried to spit acid on the chains but it took to long to melt them down he would be here for a year trying to destroy them.

Then he heard a sound, it was the grot again coming back, but with something else. He heard heavy footsteps and yelling. Whatever it was it was big and bossing around a lot of the grot creatures. Aleksander turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of it, it came to him and with one massive green claw ripped the helmet from his head. Air rushed onto his face he could feel the wind blowing. Smoke and the smells of battle filled his nostrils vibrantly. The creature mumbles something in a strange orkish language and picked up a club. It raised it high and was about to bring is smashing down on his head as the grots cheered in praise when the Marine sprayed a stream of acid from his mouth into the eyes of the greenskin who dropped the club harmlessly to the hall of the vehicle to grab his face in pain. He stumbled around smashing the occasional grot to unleash some of his anger. He moved and tripped over one of the bolt on big shootas fallning to the ground below. He landed on top of a metal spike that impaled him through the chest. He struggled for only a moment and then stopped dead and lifeless. His grot followers jumped back inside the vehicle and closed the hatch.

With a hint of satisfaction he looked at the dead green skin and smirked. He thanked the Emperor for the blessing of his genetic enhancements that allowed him and the rest of the Space Marines to be such superhuman warriors. He turned his head back to the trench to see if there was any hope of the guardsmen to push the orks back but they had been damaged to badly. He heard the tank rumble again and another puff of black smoke filled the air in front of him, then a fierce jolt, lots of pain, and the battlewagon was moving again. As the lumbering mass of metal picked up to full speed he could see something in the distance. His increased vision allowed him to see things a normal human could not. It was a team of guardsmen setting up in a building with an Imperial Lascannon turret mount. They must be on tanking hunting duties.

A blue beam fired nearly hitting the crude tank, it grazed the back by mere inches.
Melting and burning anything it came close to. The Mekk boys driving the tank started an unsophisticated set of engines strapped on with rope and metal. They fired in a red-hot blaze moving the vehicle forward at an alarming speed. Although in the last second before it could clear to a safe range another bolt of the lascannon fired. This time hitting near the engine. Billows of think smoke and flame erupted from the vehicles shell. It was still rocketing forwards, but this time it had somke and fire trailing it. Some of the greenskins abandon their ride, jumping over the side and joining the battle on foot. The mekk boys inside wouldn't do that, this was their pride and joy and saving it had to be done.

The battle field grew dim as the strange vehicle just barley lumbered on. Most of the fires that started inside had been put out now, just thick black smoke remained. It growled and moaned then lurched almost 3 feet before cranking to a halt. He could hear the sound of gears grinding and motors desperately clinging to life as they crunched and ground against each other trying to move the vehicle forwards. It was no use, clouds of smoke grew engulfing the entire machine and four mekk boy greenskins jumped out with tools and equipment to try and fix their pride, this stolen Leman Russ battle tank.

The first and largest of the boys took out a large wrench like device and began beating a panel into submission until he came lose and fell to the ground. He stuck the wrench inside the new hole and started twisting a knob. The others grabbed around at different parts on the vehicle turning knobs and twisting wrenches. It almost seemed like they did it at random.

Aleksanders skin turned from a pale white to a dark tan color. It was changing to protect him from the harsh sun burning on his exposed faced. He continued to pray for guidance and strength from the Emperor. He stayed chained up for the entire day, the sun went down and three moons took its place. The mekk boys slacked off a lot without their trukk boss around, taking breaks for about an hour after every 15 minutes of work. It is amazing they get anything done at all.

While this was going on deep in the canyon mount of Alra'trilth 20 guardsmen and 30 civilians had been stranded when their transport was shot down. They had been holding off desperately against ork raids in the ancient canyon city built by feral humans ages ago. Their leader was Captain Jake Ferlton, a Storm trooper captain the last left alive from his squad. His armorewas covered in a tan sandy cloak that wrapped around him. His rebreather was hanging loosely from his face and his helmet was attached to his belt hidden underneath his cloak. A las pistol and power sword sprawled out onto a map he looked over. Three other guardsmen stood around him in the normal flak armor waiting to hear him talk these men also wore the desert colored cloaks.

"Okay Sergeant Yukon you said your men saw the vehicle in the southern quadrant. ", Captain Ferlton said point a finger at a small x on the map.

"Yes sir, it looked nearly abandon. We counted four greenskins there. Mekk boys by the looks of it. The thing is damaged they almost have it fixed. We should let them deal with it until later tonight. Once they get it working again we should take it. We could try to make it back to the main lines with it. Or at least some of us, and send for help.", Sergeant Yukon said shifting his weight form one side to the other.

"That sounds good to me, take the truck we found. Fill it with fuel and bring a squad of four with you. Take that heavy bolter and set it up on this ridge here. Squid and Bingo will man that and cover the three of you with it. Take 50 rounds for it that's all we can spare, we will need those if the greenskins send a large force against us. Charge your las packs and move out in three hours. Understood?", ordered Captain Ferlton.

"SIR", responded Yukon and he walked out of the area.

He left the map room taking his las pistol and power weapon. He pushed past a few tattered blankets that acted as make shift doors. He finally came to a room with a picture of the Emperor hung inside with three candles burning under it. He placed his weapons in front of the picture and prayed.
Emperor the green skins abound, thy enemies are great and wish to devour your people. Send us guidance and deliverance. I cannot lead these people to safety. I have doubts and worries, we need help. Please send us strength, send us a leader.

Back at the Ork battlewagon Aleksander was taunting the Greenskins as they worked. Telling them what they had been doing wrong. Every once in a while they would wonder over by him, but even chained they did not want to be around him. He was a terribly powerful warrior; they thought they had killed him. They had been wrong and their last orders stated that the Warboss wanted him alive. He wanted to kill the Marine, of course they would have had him bound and tied. The War boss wouldn't risk dieing after his campaign had been so successful.

Time went on, nearly three hours passed when he first saw them. In the distance he saw the men moving over the ridge. It was much to hard for the orks to see in the dark and at that distance but it was no problem for a Marine. He could make out five figures taking up position on the hill.

"Okay Squid, Bingo we are going to move over the ridge as we start making our way down from the right flank you bring up a few shots from the heavy bolter just get their attention. Fire off in slow bursts don't waste any ammo for Emperors sake. I don't know why Ferlton put you two on this job, both of you have happy trigger fingers.", Yukon said grabbing his lasrifle and loading in a fresh battery.

"Shud'up Yukon! Your not really a fighter anyways your just a grease monkey from the dropship!?, the big man known as Squid said with his deep voice.

Yukon turned and rolled his eyeballs with raised eyebrows. Then jumped off the ridge followed by three others. They would be ready in ten minutes. With a single las shot Squid and Bingo would open up with that Heavy Bolter.

Aleksander watched as the first red beam of light pierced the darkness of night. It impacted into the forehead of a greenskin sending him to the ground as black liquid oozed from the wound. The other three came around as the first burst from the heavy bolter blazed across the sky. Most of the shots impacted against the tank one found it's mark and dug a crater out of an orks chest bring it down with ease. The Other two panicked and ran into Las fire getting killed by multitude of wounds delivered by the lasrifles. It was over before the orks knew what hit them and the guardsmen already started celebrating.

The Marine heard them talk now, they cheered each other and praised the Emperor for guiding their weapons. The men moved in, three of them reached the area first, Sergeant Yukon then called the two manning the Heavy Bolter to bring the truck down loaded with fuel. They slowly walked over, kick the Mekk boys as they walked past to make sure they had been dead. They would burn the bodies before they left. The Orks had a strange way of coming back form the dead unless you did that. The old white truck crested the hill opulent with fuel barrels for the tank. The three guardsmen already down there made it over to where the Marine was hanging on the side of the tank. At first they thought he was dead. They looked on in awe at the massive warrior, you could barley see it through the dense wrap of chains.

"Quick get him down! That's an Astartes, how did these greenskins do that.", Yukon said reaching for the chains. As he did Alecksander opened his eyes and stared at the humans under him.

"Emperor Protects.", he said to the Sergeant and his three man team.

"Ancient one! You are alive. We are saved! The Emperor has answered our prays We will get you from these bonds.", Yukon said grabbing at the chains trying to find their attached point. The other guardsmen had been speechless but joined in on finding a way to release the chains.

"Wait, when squid and bingo get down here we will use the torch from the truck to cut through the chains.", the Sergeant said turning to scan the area for the vehicle.

The White truck did pull up to the tank as Squid and Bingo jumped out the three men met them and found the torch in the cab.

"What'the fuss about Yukon, we need to get out of here before more greenskins arrive!", Squid said watching the three scramble around franticly looking for the blow torch.

"Quite you! We are in the presence of an Ancient one, a Marine has been captured by the Greenskins. We must free him.", Yukon shouted finally seeing that one of his men found the blow torch and tossed it to him.

Oooo very cool. The grots are funny.

The blue flame began eating through the chains; one after the other fell free until all but a few remained. With the strength granted to him Aleksander broke gratis of the bonds and fell to the ground with a thud landing on his feet. He was nearly 9 and a half feet tall. His armor was a dusty white color, and gold trimmed its edges. The first thing he noticed was an ork symbol painted on his breast plate. The Machine spirits would surely be upset about this but there was little he could do now.

“So what are your names Soldiers of the Imperium?”, he asked extending his massive hand in a hand shake.

“I am Sergeant Yukon of the Mechanics Corp, The big..err, the lug behind me with the heavy bolter is Squid, the skinny one is Bingo. Behind me is Biggs, and Mike, we are supposed to commandeer this tank if possible.”, the Sergeant said retuning the hand shake, although the Marines hand made him feel like a small child.

“Praise be to the God Emperor, I am Sergeant Aleksander, or Alek. Anyways, a base camp, I was not briefed on any Refugee camps out this far. What is it doing here?”, the Astartes asked releasing his grip on the mans hand.

“Well most of us are stragglers, Leftovers from small skirmishes and survivors of a crashed transport. Our de facto leader at the moment is a Storm Trooper Captain by the name of Ferlton. His squad was destroyed and some civilians found him in almost the same condition. He was lucky though, they brought him back to a small city caved in the side of Alra’trilth Mountain. The rest of us just sort of came there for shelter during Stand storms and ended up sticking around to help fight off the Orks.”, Yukon answered his tone hinting to a doomed end.

“I see, do you have any communications equipment? Maybe an Astropath?”, the Space Marine said with a cold stern attitude.

“Well we have an old Vox caster unit but I can’t get the Emperor Cursed thing to work. The machine spirit is giddier then a schola child, and works only when it wants to.”, the man replied.

Bingo turned to Squid, neither of them had ever seen a Space Marine before. Bingo once even refuted their existence, “Squid that guy is bigger then you!”, he exclaimed aghast.

“I got eyes ya’know.”, Bingo rebutted with a snort.

Yukon and Aleksander talked for a few minutes, the battle wagon could be used but was not ready for a fight. They agreed it would be best to bring it back to the camp first and repair it there. Staying in the middle of the desert would get them killed quickly.

Bingo and Squid had to drive the truck back, Yukon, Mike, Biggs, and the Marine would ride in the battle wagon. Yukon was the first in, he landed in something wet next came Biggs, then Mike, and Alek last. Yukon instantly could smell horrible scents, a few human heads sat in a row on the floor. Blood and waste littered the floor along with at least seven deceased grots. The interior was dark and filled with smoke, steam, and who knows what else. Obscure pipes hung from odd angels, and seemed to have no real purpose in working the vehicle. Poor welds, and bad patch fixes made all inside wonder how it was still able to function. Alek turned his suit mounted light and directed it towards the control panel. His bulky frame couldn’t move much so Biggs took the drivers seat with Yukon and mike on gunner positions. They tried several times to start the tank but the fifth got it right. Black smoke once again poured from the massive exhaust pipes near the rear.

It sounded like the machine would rip itself apart, whatever spirit was in here surely had gone mad by now. Luckily it was standard training for the Mech Corps to know some of the Litanies of Clarity and Sane action. Yukon repeated the few he knew over and over again the entire trip. They finally set off in the direction of the mountain.