Chapter 144: Human Slaves

"Damn it, a melta!"

Xu Ming's defensive field was instantly overloaded by the Greenskin melta bomb, yet the formidable armor of the Terminator power armor managed to withstand the full blast. The only thing capable of destroying a Terminator was another Terminator.

"Xu Ming, we've arrived."

Just as Xu Ming's squad of five saw their defensive fields blown into overload by the meltas, Song Chao's squad finally reached the scene. The Cataphractii-pattern Terminators excelled at everything except their speed; it had taken them a full five minutes of slogging through the valley to arrive since the initial clash with the Greenskins.

With the arrival of Song Chao's squad, ten Terminators initiated a ferocious slaughter amidst the endless sea of Greenskins. Beyond simply raising hell before their potential demise, they shared another primary objective: to lure out the tribe's Warboss.

The Transhumanists pushed steadily deeper into the Greenskin encampment, seeking to draw out the Warboss and execute a decapitation strike. Deeper and deeper they marched into the heart of the primitive stronghold.

"What is that?"

After smashing a Greenskin into a pulpy mushroom paste, Xu Ming gestured toward a massive crater ahead and asked Song Chao.

"Must be a mining pit, judging by those heavy machinery units."

Song Chao used a bolt round to obliterate a Greenskin's head, pointing toward the colossal extraction rigs inside the crater as he replied.

"Wait, look closer. What are those?"

Peering into the pit, Xu Ming suddenly noticed countless tiny specks moving sluggishly at the bottom.

"Are those more Greenskins?" Song Chao asked, eyeing the moving dots.

"Those... those are humans."

Through his helmet's tactical auspex, Xu Ming discerned the true nature of the specks. They were gaunt, emaciated human beings clad in ragged coats, shouldering heavy mineral loads and stumbling listlessly under the brutal whip-cracks of Greenskin overseers as they ascended the sides of the pit.

"Captain, urgent update. We've located enslaved humans. Requesting abort on the Deathstrike missile launch."

Fixated on the enslaved captives, Xu Ming relayed the message to Ye Fan via vox-comm.

"Understood. Deathstrike launch aborted."

Gazing up at the sun-like, incandescent detonation blossoming in the upper atmosphere, Ye Fan responded immediately. Upon receiving the intel regarding human slaves, he had instantly detonated the newly-launched Deathstrike missile in mid-air.

"I've briefed the primarch. Your priority is to draw the Greenskins' attention away from the captives. Reinforcements are en route."

Watching the fading fireball, Ye Fan relayed the situation to Wang Ming at the earliest possible moment.

"Human slaves? Hmph... I should have anticipated this."

Reviewing the telemetry sent by Ye Fan, Wang Ming tapped a finger thoughtfully against the casing of his bolter, contemplating how best to extract every last one of them.

The discovery of these human slaves completely upended the initial strategy. Originally, the Transhumanists had planned to cleanse the area with a direct Deathstrike payload, but the presence of innocent captives rendered that option entirely unviable.

The Transhumanists had no intention of trading human lives to wipe out Greenskins, and the prospect of rescuing the slaves was entirely feasible.

"Notify Chapter Master Li Xin of the Sixth Company—have him detach two companies, fully equipped with Terminator power armor and accompanied by a wing of transport aircraft."

Picking up his data-slate, Wang Ming issued the order to Captain Jiang Tao across the command channel, directing him to instruct Li Xin to mobilize two full companies of Terminators alongside heavy transport support to rescue the human slaves trapped in the Greenskin encampment.

"Two hundred Terminators should be more than enough to handle anything down there, even if that Greenskin Warboss fields a gargant," Wang Ming thought as he reviewed the surveillance imagery transmitted by Xu Ming. Still, a lingering sense of caution gnawed at him.

"Put two regiments of the Mortal Auxilia on standby. If the situation deteriorates, they are to secure the human evacuees' retreat."

Wang Ming issued a secondary directive to Captain Jiang Tao. As an added safety measure, retaining the reserve auxilia ensured that if the Transhumanists became bogged down, the auxiliary forces could buy precious time for the resurrection protocols and shield the retreating civilians.

"It shouldn't come to that. After all, the resurrection beacon is anchored to one of the active Transhumanists on-site. As long as they aren't all wiped out simultaneously, things should hold together."

Gazing out the window at the raging blizzard, Wang Ming reasoned that theoretical disaster was avoidable provided the strike team was not entirely obliterated in a single instant, or the designated respawn anchor destroyed prematurely.

"Hurry, damn it! Why are Terminator power armor units so painfully slow?!"

Ten Transhumanists clad in Terminator armor formed a tight defensive perimeter, placing the trailing human slaves firmly behind their towering bulwarks as thousands of screaming Greenskins surged toward them.

"When is the reinforcement wave getting here?" Song Chao shouted over the vox to Xu Ming.

The ten warriors had established a solid micro-line of defense, their massive Cataphractii-pattern suits standing shoulder-to-shoulder to form an impregnable metallic rampart protecting the Imperial citizens from the howling horde of greenskin beasts.

The human slaves stared in awe at the demigod-like warriors holding back the green tide before them, silently offering desperate prayers to the God-Emperor that these indomitable protectors might remain unbreakable and invincible.

"Any second now! Watch your left flank, a large pack is breaking through!"

Glancing swiftly at his tactical display, Xu Ming barked a warning to Song Chao.

"If they don't arrive soon, we won't last much longer! Where on earth did these Orks get this kind of arsenal? Meltas, plasma, power weapons—damnation! Stay in this meat grinder much longer and we'll have a stompa on our heads!"

Firing rapid explosive salvos into the advancing wave, Song Chao cursed the bizarre assortment of cobbled-together heavy weaponry brandished by the enemy.

"You bloody fool... Song Chao! Did you bless that mouth of yours?! A stompa really is coming!"

Hearing Song Chao's words and spotting the colossal silhouette slowly grinding its way toward their position, Xu Ming roared back.

"Uh... how much longer on those reinforcements? Should we maybe nudge the citizens back a bit?" Song Chao asked, wincing slightly as he tracked the towering monstrosity.

"Static... this is the First and Second Companies of the Sixth. We have entered your upper atmosphere and are executing orbital drop maneuvers. Clear the landing zone."

Just as Song Chao weighed retreating the civilians further, a voice crackled sharply across the communication channel.

"Reinforcements are here! Wait, where are the gunships? I don't see any transports!"

Puzzled, Song Chao scanned the heavy snowfall blanketing the sky, unable to locate any conventional dropships.

"Thud!"

Before Song Chao could finish scanning the horizon, several titanic figures plummeted directly from the heavens, crashing straight into the heart of the Greenskin mob surrounding them. The crushing weight of the descending armor squashed dozens of unfortunate Orks into mushroom pulp, landing with the concussive impact of heavy artillery and sending shockwaves of crimson gore across the battlefield.

Flesh and fungal matter splattered wildly as each Cataphractii-pattern Terminator stood erect upon impact, transforming instantly into engines of absolute war and carving bloody paths through the surrounding Greenskin boyz and crude metal cans.

"Secure the perimeter! Transports inbound, prepare the citizens for immediate evacuation."

Captain He Wei of the Sixth Company's First Chapter surveyed the unfolding carnage, issuing crisp orders across the vox-network. He remained out of the primary melee, personally overseeing the security of the forward resurrection beacon.

He Wei's drop point landed near the human slaves, and upon impact, he marched directly to their vanguard, linking up with the Second Company operatives.

Following He Wei's command, colossal transport aircraft materialized through the howling blizzard, descending steadily onto the clearing carved out by the Transhumanists.

The heavy transport fleet touched down upon the blood-soaked earth. Under the direction of the towering Space Marines, the human slaves were herded aboard according to age brackets.

The Greenskins had rounded up captives indiscriminately; infants and elderly alike lingered among the crowd. With limited cargo capacity, the Transhumanists prioritized loading the youngest children first.

Older children and able-bodied adults were distributed laser rifles drawn from the transport stockpiles, granting them a baseline capability for self-defense. Though massive, the transports could not evacuate everyone in a single rotation.

The civilians understood this harsh reality well. As citizens of the Imperium, these mortals possessed an innate fighting spirit, especially on a harsh frontier world like Corsel IV—a planet hovering just a step away from classification as a Death World, where the local populace was unfailingly rugged and resilient.

The moment the able-bodied adults gripped their newly issued weapons, they immediately joined the fray alongside the Transhumanists. Their inclusion added the brilliant crimson streaks of laser fire to a battlefield previously dominated by bolters and power swords.

The primary advantage of lasguns was their absolute precision; wherever the eye could see, concentrated beams of coherent light struck true, incinerating Greenskins that the Space Marines had yet to reach.

In a heartbeat, these downtrodden slaves transformed into warriors of the God-Emperor. An adult male draped in the tattered greatcoat of a Planetary Defense Force veteran brandished his lasgun high, roaring to his fellow mortals, "For the Emperor!! Purge the xenos!!"

Channeling the humiliation of alien enslavement into righteous fury, the mortals unleashed concentrated laser volleys, striking down the green menace in the name of the Imperium.

"Whoosh..."

The transport fleet, laden with children, lifted off smoothly into the heavy snowfall. Once airborne, the craft accelerated rapidly toward the safety of the city, intending to drop off their precious cargo before returning to retrieve the remaining survivors.

"Hold them back! The front line is ours! We gave them weapons solely for self-preservation, not so they could throw their lives away in a suicide charge!"

Observing civilians armed with lasguns attempting to push forward and expand the perimeter, He Wei transmitted a stern directive to his troops. Their mission was extraction; under no circumstances were Imperial citizens to perish on the frontline. Combat was the domain of the Adeptus Astartes, not malnourished mortals lacking even basic protective gear.

"Fall back! Retreat behind our lines and hold the extraction zone! Fighting is our duty, not yours!"

Acknowledging He Wei's orders, the Transhumanists broadcasted the command in their deep, resonant, mechanical vox-tones to the surrounding mortals.

Hesitating for a brief moment, the civilians gazed up at the towering giants beside them. Following a fleeting internal struggle, they solemnly crossed their chests in the sign of the Aquila and retreated collectively back to the safety of the landing zone.

"First batch of evacuees secured. Transports inbound for the secondary extraction."

In the grand plaza outside the Governor's Mansion in Blizzard City, a multitude of transport vessels sat grounded amid falling snow. Combat medics of the "Star Liberators" busied themselves within rows of temporary medical tents, performing immediate triage on the newly arrived children.

Wang Ming stood in the center of the plaza alongside Jose, who had just arrived from the *Imperial Truth* docked in orbit, gazing upon the stream of youngsters filing out of the transports.

"Severe malnutrition, widespread food poisoning, and various soft-tissue injuries consistent with forced labor."

Reviewing the medical logs detailing the children's physical condition, Wang Ming clenched his jaw in suppressed rage.

These youths must have been shielded by the adults around them; without such protection, none of them would have survived the brutality of the Greenskins.

"The youngest is eight, the oldest eleven. There are none younger..."

Jose murmured quietly, staring at the lines of children. Their ages spoke volumes: only the relatively older children could manage to stay alive, while infants and toddlers stood no chance of enduring the cruelty of the greenskins, despite the desperate efforts of their elders to protect them.

"Those damned xenos!"

Gritting his teeth at the sight of the skeletal youths, Jose wished nothing more than to summon the Primarch's Honor Guard and tear every last alien atom from existence, reducing them to scattered ash.

"They will die. Every single one of them. I swear by the genetic legacy of the Emperor Himself, I will scour every last xenos from the surface of Corsel IV!"

Walking slowly among the children, Wang Ming spoke aloud, his voice dropping into a low, resolute whisper. A profound, incandescent fury surged within him—an unspeakable wrath. As he looked upon the suffering children, he felt the Warp-essence deep within his soul tremble, echoing with the roar of countless human souls crying out in unison.

Wang Ming could almost feel the spiritual fabric of his being burning away, hearing the phantom chorus of humanity urging him onward, demanding the total annihilation of the twisted, loathsome alien threat.

"This boy has too many injuries—contusions, lacerations, and suspected permanent muscle damage. God-Emperor above, bring the surgical servo-skull immediately! His ribs are fractured; it's a miracle he's even breathing."

Entering a medical tent, Wang Ming watched as a field medic treated a young boy's horrifying wounds, the medic whispering in absolute shock to his assistant as he cataloged the extent of the trauma.

"My Lord."

Noticing Wang Ming's presence inside the tent, the medic instinctively moved to stand and salute.

"At ease. Continue your work. Tend to this poor child and heal the wounds inflicted by those vile xenos. He needs you."

Wang Ming raised a gauntleted hand to halt the salute, speaking with steady, grim resolve.