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first to find the ork warboss。 Earning his name； before it was too late。
There were lights up ahead—harsh； like the lanterns outside。 Lorenzo switched off his helmet beam
and crept forward； Armstrong at his heels。
The tunnel they were following took a sharp dip； its gradient so steep that they were halfwalking；
half…sliding。 The sounds of picks and shovels were unmistakeable now； and there was
something else。 The squeak of a wheel。 Armstrong tapped Lorenzo on the shoulder and indicated a
side passageway； narrow and level； also well lit。 Lorenzo nodded； and they slipped into it； and
pressed themselves against its walls so the light wouldn’t cast their shadows across the junction。
An ork appeared； grunting as it strained to push a loaded barrow up the slope。 Lorenzo’s hand
moved to his lasgun； knowing that if the creature saw them their cover was blown。 It only had to
yell out。 To his relief； it moved on。 Let Myers and Wildman take care of it when it reached them； he
thought。
They moved further down the side passageway； until the right…hand wall fell away and they were
in a natural gallery； looking out across a vast cavern。 Its floor lay some ten metres below them； its
far wall was four times that distance。 The cavern was swarming with orks； hefting tools； battering at
the walls； breaking off chunks of rock that gretchin gathered and piled into waiting barrows。 The
area was lit by six lanterns； squeezed into niches at varying heights； connected by tangles of thick
cabling。 There was a lantern beside the Jungle Fighters； on the gallery； lying on its side—and they
crouched behind it so any ork that glanced their way wouldn’t see them behind its intense light。
Lorenzo scanned the throng with his eyes； fervently hoping to find an ork with cleaner； better
armour than the others； an ork that was giving the orders； an ork perhaps a little larger than its
fellows。 He was disappointed。
“Another nine； ten passageways off this chamber；” breathed Armstrong。 “This place is like a
maze！”
“I don’t know；” Lorenzo muttered。 “Most of those tunnels； I think the orks dug themselves—and
I think they’re still digging them。 See how the gretchin keep coming back along them with more
rubble。 I’m betting most of them are dead ends。”
“Doesn’t mean we won’t find Big Green’s quarters down one of them。”
Lorenzo conceded the point； but nodded towards a wide tunnel entrance below them to the left。
“Seems to be a lot of coming and going through there；” he remarked； “and the passageway we’re in
heads in that direction。 I think it’s worth a look。”
“Your call；” said Armstrong。
They crept on； until rock closed in around them again and their passageway dipped and
narrowed and came to an abrupt end。 Its floor didn’t quite meet the wall； however； and Lorenzo
peered through the gap thus created and saw another passageway below。 Even as he watched； an ork
passed along it； he could almost have reached down and touched its head。 He listened a moment； but
the only sounds he could hear came from the main chamber behind and below them。 He glanced at
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Armstrong； who nodded—and Lorenzo lowered himself through the hole； until he was hanging from
his fingertips； then let himself drop。
The world gave another spin as he hit the ground； and he lost his balance and fell。 He picked
himself up quickly； humiliated； and gestured up to Armstrong that he was alright。 He had guessed
right。 This tunnel sloped back down to the main chamber in one direction； climbed more gently into
darkness in the other。 He could only see a short way in the lantern light that bled up from below； but
it was enough to see that the tunnel walls were riddled with openings。
At Lorenzo’s signal； Armstrong joined him； hampered by his dead arm but still affecting a more
graceful landing than his comrade had managed。
Two orks were coming their way。 Quickly； they clucked into the nearest of the openings； and
found themselves pushing through a tattered curtain。 Beyond this； a small cave was littered with
skins and debris； and Lorenzo realised that orks had been sleeping here。 Fortunately； there were
none present at the moment。
A little further up； the tunnel levelled out and split into three； and they followed the left…hand
branch。 They found more quarters； some rumbling with the grunts and snores of sleeping residents；
some apparently empty。 Some had lights within； spilling around the edges of their curtains—and in
one； the curtain was pulled aside and four orks sat around a flat…topped boulder； playing with
knuckle dice。 Lorenzo and Armstrong didn’t dare risk passing that cave； so they backtracked and
chose another path from the three…way junction。
Lorenzo felt angry。 What the orks were doing here—it was wrong。 At least； when the men of
Catachan tamed a deathworld； it was a fair fight。 They didn’t burrow under its skin； try to destroy it
from within like a virus。 The thought of it made him itch； made the sickness rise in his stomach…
He wasn’t sure why； didn’t know where these feelings were coming from； because it wasn’t as if the
Imperium had never strip…mined a world。 Maybe just not a world like Rogar III…
They came across a particularly large entranceway and Lorenzo hesitated； wondering if this
could be the cave to house the warboss。 He didn’t want to poke his head around the curtain； though：
he’d have been unlikely to see anything in the dark and he might have disturbed somebody。
Anyway； he could hear at least three different snores from within—and it was probable； he thought；
that the orks’ warboss had a cave to himself。
A moment later； however； more footsteps—shuffling unexpectedly from an unseen tunnel； little
more than a fissure in the rock—forced the two Jungle Fighters to duck into another cave。 And this
one was occupied。
Lorenzo held his breath； and not just because of the stink of ork bodies around him。 He could
just make them out： three festering lumps crammed together on the floor。 He had almost stepped on
one as he’d entered； and he eased his foot away from it。 For a moment； he thought he had left
Armstrong behind outside； so silent was he—but then he saw the glint of a single eye in the
darkness； and was comforted。
The footsteps shuffled up to the cave entrance； and for a moment Lorenzo feared he might have
had the bad luck to have taken cover in the wandering ork’s own quarters—but then the moment
passed and the footsteps were receding。 Heading for the main chamber； he guessed。
But there was still something wrong—badly wrong—if only he could put his finger on it。
Lorenzo’s spine prickled with dread。
He realised what was about to happen a second before it did； and he knew that his luck had
turned bad after all。 As bad as it could have been。
The tremor shook the soles of his feet； then seemed to rise through the walls and meet again
above his head。 One of the sleeping orks stirred instantly； and Lorenzo was trapped。 He didn’t think
it had seen him or Armstrong yet； but that could change in an instant； if they moved—and the
footsteps outside the cave had come to a halt； so where could they have gone anyway？
The waking ork was fumbling for something； and Lorenzo wondered if there was a chance； a
tiny chance； that he could reach it and muffle it before it yelled out； plant his hand over its mouth
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and his knife in its throat。 But that tremor wasn’t subsiding—and as he took his first step； the earth
bucked underneath him and he fell； put out his hands to catch himself； ended up sprawled across one
of the two sleeping orks。 Which； of course； was awake too now。
The first ork had found a miner’s helmet； and it snapped on the light； shining it around the cave。
Armstrong let loose with a las…bolt volley； which kept the ork pinned down but didn’t prevent it
from letting out an alarm howl。
So now the third ork was clambering to its feet； blinking； reaching for its weapon； and Lorenzo
was still trying to avoid the flailing grasp of the second。 It caught him by the arm； and he was trying
to pull away from it； dragging it to its feet after him； its fingers digging painfully into him。 He
turned； braced his shoulder against the ork’s chest and tried to throw it。 It was too heavy； shifting its
weight to counter his move； but in so doing it relaxed its hold； and Lorenzo wrenched himself free
from it； though it felt like he had lost a handful of his flesh。
Then he and Armstrong were running； as the third ork found its gun and fired—in entirely the
wrong direction； confused by the shifting shadows and its wounded fellow’s dancing beam of light。
The Jungle Fighters burst out into the passageway； where the ork they had been hiding from was
waiting； its gun raised。 Lorenzo lowered his head； rushed it； and a bullet pinged off his helmet； then
he cannoned into the ork and it gave a few paces but braced itself。 They were fighting for the ork’s
gun； and Lorenzo feinted； let the greenskin have the weapon but unbalanced it in the process。 It
stumbled； and fell onto his freshly drawn knife； impaling itself。 Planting his foot in the ork’s
stomach； he pulled the blade free。 It was still alive； but he didn’t have time to finish the job。
There were more orks in the passageway； pouring out of the openings on all sides； reacting to
the clamour； and the only thing that kept Lorenzo and Armstrong alive was the fact that the earth
was still shaking； and with increasing ferocity； confusing the issue； giving the orks more to worry
about than just them。 Armstrong made to flee back the way they had come； Lorenzo’s impulse was
to go deeper into the mine； find the ork leader； and they both came up short as they realised they
were pulling in opposite directions。
Lorenzo knew； just knew they were in danger； and he threw himself at Armstrong； barged him
into the wall as the roof caved in。 They were coated in soil； disturbed dust tearing at Lorenzo’s
throat； making his eyes water； but they had avoided the worst of it and the orks were reeling around
them； and Lorenzo grabbed Armstrong by the hand and pulled him along； guiding him through the
chaos by instinct； at a loss to explain where that instinct had come from。
The tremor was more than a tremor now。 It was a fully…fledged earthquake—and Lorenzo knew；
with a gut…wrenching certainty； that this was only the beginning。 The tunnel was shaking so fiercely；
it felt like he had double vision； cracks were opening in the walls； the floor was churning itself up；
tossing him about like a wild grox； and the roof was groaning and grinding and collapsing in stages。
Rogar III was taking its revenge on the orks that had defiled it； driving them out of itself or just
burying them。 Lorenzo had lost all sense of direction； but he was moving broadly with the ork flow；
and he knew that this meant he was headed back to the main chamber； and from there to the mine
entrance。 As if the planet itself was herding him that way。 What hope did he have now of finding the
ork warboss？ What hope for him at all in that lantern…lit clearing； with a hundred evacuated
greenskins waiting for him？ Even assuming he could make it that far。
He was looking for another option； a way to cheat his fate； when an ork reared up in front of
him； a spade levelled at his throat like a knife。 Lorenzo swung his fang； but the quake made the ork
appear to be in ten places at once； and his thrust passed through its ghost image。 He didn’t know
which of its ten spades to avoid。
But then； with a tremendous crack； the wall behind the ork split； and Lorenzo caught his breath
in the face of an explosion of fire。
Molten lava； bright red with its own luminescence。 It burst through the sundered rock； broke
over the ork’s back； and the creature let out a howl of incandescent pain。 Lorenzo didn’t stop to ask
how it was possible； how the planet could have pumped its own lifeblood so close to its surface。
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This was Rogar—and he could feel the lava’s heat scorching his face even before it reached him。 He
kicked out at the scalded； screeching ork； and landed his boot dead centre where all its images
combined。 It staggered； fell backwards； and its bulky form all but plugged the fissure as Lorenzo
had planned。 The ork’s screams were quelled； its body shuddered and fell st