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Marshal Nikademus looked down upon the corpses of many of the guard slaughtered on Vitello Superba. The Orks had ravaged the relatively helpless people of the far flung colony. Many had left, perhaps more than half of the Orks, even, had followed the lucky freebooter Kaptain into warp to continue to ravage the galaxy elsewhere, but not all of the boyz were that loyal. Without a fleet to protect them, the defense of the city was impossible. Orks could rain down like a great green tide of death, engage only those they knew they could defeat before moving onto ever more exposed targets.

The XIIIth Crusade Company of the Black Templars was not far off though, and when a few wayward Imperial vessels entered their theatre, the pious sons of Dorn had no choice but to respond. Just like on Forasev, the lighting quick hammer of the Imperial Space Marines had shattered all resistance, and now the Templars started the clean-up effort, eliminating the marginalized, dispersed bands of Orks, most having been broken into bands of three or four boyz. Perhaps the Dark Angels didnít think it was worth their time to pursue such a trivial threat, but for Nikademus and his men, vengeance fueled the soul.