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• actors - Makenzie Leigh
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Asystentka wersow i frizie. Raymond Bourque Appreciation Time When people are talking about the best players of the past 50 years... I firmly believe Bourque in the same tier as Howe, Gretzky, Orr, Lemieux -- even if he's behind those guys, he's absolutely in the same tier. I remember Bourque, yeah, One of the greats from back in the day. He was not one of the greats. He's the great that other and future greats should be compared to -- and in our lifetimes, I'm beyond certain that we're going to watch them all fall short. Maybe Bourque didn't change the way the game was played the way some of those guys did but... it's only because he didn't need to. He fit the way the game was played -- as if the game was made for him. He could beat people with physicality, he could beat people with finesse, and he did it at an unbelievably elite level, for 30 minutes a night, for 22 years. Uh, Bourque was good but not that good mate. Time for a refresher. Shall we? Strap in, this is a long one. Shots Most shots by a defenseman in a season during Bourque's career. During his career, Bourque held 8 of the top-9 slots. Expand that to until today and his seasons still place 1st, 2nd, 5th, 6th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and 12th, pretty much only falling due to two defensemen who spent time at forward. Compare that to most shots, by a forward during that time period -- there are 13 forwards in the top-20. Brett Hull is the closest comparable to "dominating his positon" and he falls clearly short. Bourque was consistently ahead of his peers, moreso than anyone else was ahead of theirs. He finished top-10 in the NHL (even among forwards! ) in shots in 13 - more than half - of his 22 seasons. Three times he led the league in shots (84, 87, 95). In 1985 he was 2nd to Gretzky, in 1988 he was 2nd to Lemieux, and in 1996 he was 2nd to Jagr. Most shots/game in a season by a defenseman, all-time Ray Bourque and Bobby Orr own 11 of the top 12 slots. Bourque shows up 8 times before anyone other than Orr shows up twice, and almost caught Orr for the record -- Orr's best season was 5. 43 shots/game; Bourque's was 5. 36. Raw shot totals by a defenseman in a season Bourque owns 8 of the top-17 seasons. If not for those two defensemen-playing-forward, he would own 8 of the top 15 seasons. His two best seasons were topped by Orr only twice. Most seasons with 250+ shots, forwards included Jagr/Gretzky did it 10 times each. Bourque? 14. He didn't "accidentally" set records like: Most career shots 360 consecutive games with a shot 19 shots in a single game Over the past 10 seasons, 3. 85 shots per game would comfortably put you 2nd in the entire league in shots per game -- forwards included. That was Bourque's career average. Only Ovechkin, Bure, Lemieux, and Dionne have averaged more shots/game throughout their career. Number of games a defenseman recorded 10+ shots? (only tracked since ~1979) A handful of defensemen have done it more than 4-5 times. Bourque did it 24 times. Who cares about shots, goals are what win games. Get on with it. You're right - forget all of that. Throw all of that evidence in the toilet. Flush twice. Goals Recently, Shea Weber reached 10+ goals for the 11th time in his career. A fantastic achievement; even HoF defensemen Pronger/Niedermayer managed that only 8 times apiece. The first time Bourque failed to reach double digit goals was his age-40 season. Most seasons with 10 + goals in NHL history (leaving for the WHA may hurt some players here) Bourque is 7th overall, doing it 21 times. There are only 6 defensemen in the top-100. (shoutout to Patrick Marleau, who moved Bourque to 8th two days ago, and surely would have tied Francis/Jagr if he didn't spent the 04-05 lockout helping his parents on their farm). Let's bump 10 to 15 for shits and giggles. Only five defensemen in NHL history have scored 15+ goals, 10+ times (Weber could be the 6th with 1 more 15+ goal season): Defenseman 15+ goals Coffey 10 MacInnis 11 Potvin 12 Housley 13 Bourque 18 Four of the greatest offensive defensemen ever did it 10/11/12/13 times.. and then there's Bourque with 18 seasons. He made the team as an 18 year old rookie and scored 17 goals. Then he scored 17 (or more) goals for 15 years in a row, followed by a 23 goal pace during the lockout-shortened '94 season. And then he scored 17+ in back to back years after that. I'm going to call that 18 consecutive years. That's incredible longevity and production for a forward. Bourque did it from the backend, and the best playmaker he had was... 4. 5 seasons of Adam Oates? Forwards with a similar number of career goals as Ray Bourque: Vincent Lecavalier, Jason Arnott, Tony Amonte, Joe Thornton, Patrick Elias, Marian Gaborik, John LeClair, Paul Kariya, Shane Doan, Markus Naslund Some defensemen bring value with lots of points, not just scoring like 20 goals. Okay, alright already. Forget it. Take all that evidence and shred it, then set the shreds on fire. Points Speaking of failing to reach double digit goals in his final season... Bourque still finished tied for 3rd in defensive scoring that year, behind only "HoF defensemen in their prime" - Brian Leetch and Nicklas Lidstrom. At age 40. It's always been a remarkable feat to consistently score more points than games played. There have been 30 players who have a point-per-game of >= 1. 0 in at least 10 seasons: 29 are in, or will be in, the Hall of Fame (sorry Pierre Turgeon, you totally deserve it) 28 are forwards (Coffey, Bourque) Only 3 of those forwards did it more than Bourque: Gretzky, Howe, Dionne. Bourque's consistent longevity and production, by that measure, was bested by only 3 forwards. I really feel like there should be, I don't know, maybe a dozen forwards?.. you find any defenseman on that list. 8 defensemen have ever cracked 1, 000 points. Eight. In history. Erik Karlsson has the next realistic chance at being the 9th 1000pt defenseman; he reached 600 points in the same game Marleau passed Bourque 2 days ago. Bourque has 1, 579. That puts Karlsson... just under 1, 000 points behind him. 8 defensemen in history have managed that in their career, and that's roughly how far Karlsson is behind right now. Karlsson turns 30 in 4 months. If Karlsson retires at age 39, averages a 60 point pace, and only misses ~12 games a year.. he might get 1, 000 career points. To catch Bourque, Karlsson would need to play another 12. 5 years (until he's 42) without missing a game, and average 79 points a season. Nobody is going to catch Bourque. He was a _defense_man, who cares about points. Okay! Good grief. Take all that evidence, tie a rock around it, and huck it down the Mariana Trench. Time on ice Sadly, the NHL didn't start officially tracking time on ice until the final few years of Bourque's career, but... Between ages 37 and 40, he was 2nd in ice time in the league, playing well over 26 minutes a night. His playoff ice time those 4 years - over 30 minutes a game. If that's slightly inflated by some OT games: it absolutely doesn't matter. Only 5 players saw more playoff ice time in that span and they all played in 13-20 more games. Throughout his 20s and early 30s? Who doubts Bourque was consistently eating over 30 minutes a night? Maybe even 35? Did he reach 40 minutes some games? Bourque turned 40 years old a couple months into the '00-'01 season. This is how Bob Hartley distributed his shorthanded icetime that year. Later on, in game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, Bourque played 29:35. There's been a lot of links so far... did you read that last one? "Based on his play, there is no reason why he should retire, " Avs defenseman Rob Blake said. "He was probably our dominant defenseman all playoffs long. " Spoiler, he did retire, because let's be reality - how can you possibly top this moment... Maybe he just took greedy long shifts. His coaches probably hated him. Let's pretend you're right. Take all that evidence to the Will It Blend? guy and have him go to town. Awards Hart Defensemen are just generally not considered for the Hart trophy. Lidstrom, Robinson, Chelios... Elite defensemen, household names in some parts... All finished top-5 in Hart voting just once ( 1 time! ) in their entire career. Pronger did win one, but he was never close - either before, or after. Paul Coffey and Dennis Potvin were top-5 in Hart voting twice. Bourque was top-5 in Hart voting on FIVE (5) occasions. He received at least some votes for the Hart trophy 12 times. He finished 2nd in Hart voting twice - once to Gretzky who won his 8th consecutive Hart in '87, and... The 1990 Hart trophy: Wayne Gretzky won the scoring title with 142 points. Mark Messier clobbered his career high of 111 points with 129 - with 57 points more than anyone on his team other than Kurri. Brett Hull scored 72 goals to win the goal scoring race by 10. Only Yzerman was within 17 goals. Bourque's statline? Totally nondescript. You could hardly pick it out of his career - 21 goals / 73 assists (maybe 10 assists more than usual). But the people voting knew. --- 1st 2nd 3rd Points Messier 29 24 10 227 Bourque 29 26 2 225 Hull 4 9 33 80 Gretzky 1 2 5 16 Bourque had the same number of 1st place votes. More 2nd place votes. But Messier had just enough 3rd place votes to steal it. All Star Bourque was a 1st/2nd team All Star for 17 consecutive years - as a rookie and then every year until he was 36... With another 2 selections later in his career for good measure. He was a 1st team All Star 13 times - holding the record over everyone. The three times that Bourque wasn't a 1st/2nd team allstar? Well, four defensemen a year earn those honors, and he finished 7th/6th/6th - just barely "out of the money". Norris While Bourque may have "only" won the Norris 5 times (lol? )... He was top-4 (yes, four) for 17 years to start his career, and he not once, in 22 years, was he worse than 7th. What other player can you say that about? In any sport? Perhaps a handful in history? The last 5 years, 7th in Norris voting: Josi (17-18, 18-19), Doughty (16-17), Hedman (15-16), Keith (14-15). That was a roughly comparable to Bourque, when Bourque was at the lowest point of his career. Age (at season end) Norris Placing 19 4th 20 4th 21 2nd 22 3rd 23 3rd 24 2nd 25 4th 26 1st 27 1st 28 4th 29 1st 30 1st 31 2nd 32 2nd 33 1st 34 3rd 35 2nd 36 7th 37 7th 38 3rd 39 7th 40 2nd A couple Norris races I want to point out: Age 27, his 1st Norris win. 52 of 54 1st place votes. Age 30, his 3rd Norris win. Paul Coffey scored 103 points to finish 9th in the league. Bourque still won the Norris unanimously - 63 of 63 first place votes. Age 36, his first finish outside the top-4. He missed 20 games. His team finished dead last and allowed 20 goals more than any other team. The Bruins were a tire fire. He still got some votes. A side note about trophies in general Imagine we're at the 2020 entry draft, and the teams drafting 1st through 5th all have a different player ranked 1st overall on their scouting report, but the same player ranked 2nd overall. Even though all 5 teams drafting completely agree on the 2nd best player in the draft? He's going 6th overall at best. It doesn't matter if everybody agrees you're the 2nd prettiest girl at the dance - it just takes 1 person to fuck everything up... or 5 people to fuck your chances up in separate years. 1982 Doug Wilson fucked up Bourque's first Norris. He scored 39 goals - not scoring more than 23 either before or after. Couldn't you have done that a different year, Doug? Bourque finished 2nd in voting. 1983 He came 3rd, but the race was very close between all 3: That year, Langway won his first Norris despite posting just 39 points. Often people wonder about that -- but even some people who watched 80s hockey and believe Langway fully deserved that Norris... You really had to see Langway in his prime. I have been unsuccessful at copying to Digital and uploading some of my Capitals games from that era. But Langway was a beast. lieve that Langway didn't deserve it the next year, nor did the 126 point season of Paul Coffey. It should have gone to Bourque. 1983-84 I believe Langway did not deserve it(Although he deserved to be a finalist). Runner up Coffey also did not deserve it. Bourque deserved it that year. A different person, later in that thread: Bourque might have been your best bet in '84 not Coffey despite popular opinion 1992 Brian Leetch fucked up a Norris for Bourque - setting a career high 102 points he would never come close to, before or after. Bourque came 2nd. 1996 Chelios fucked up another Norris for Bourque, winning despite Bourque having more 1st place votes. Here are a handful of elite defensemen, and how many times they were nominated for the Norris (finished top-3 in voting): Player Nominations Lidstrom 10 Chelios 6 Potvin 6 Coffey 6 MacInnis 6 Robinson 5 Langway 3 Leetch 3 Bourque 15 Honestly, Bourque's "Norris problem" was that he was too consistent. Yeah. That's a sentence. Too consistent. A Norris Problem. lol. If Bourque had 3-4 shittier seasons and 3-4 seasons like Doug Wilson's, or Brian Leetch's? If those guys didn't have the season they had, the year they had it? If Bourque didn't miss some games in any of the other 14 years he finished top-4? The narrow loss to Chelios? The win he 'may have' deserved against Langway/Coffey? If he had moved to a team with a Gretzky/Lemieux type player? If Hull doesn't steal enough 3rd place votes to give Messier the '90 Hart? There's an alternate universe where Bourque wins 10 or more Norris trophies and multiple Hart trophies, laughing all the way to the bank like a fox. Okay, I'm getting the picture, but lets be reality... if he was actually elite he would have dragged the Bruins further. Team Success While the Bruins didn't win the cup with Bourque... He was pretty much the only mainstay during the last 17 years of the Bruins record setting Playoff Appearance streak - and that streak certainly didn't end because of Bourque - as mentioned above, he got Norris attention that year. That awful '96 Bruins team - the only one that failed to make the playoffs with Bourque - had 10 defensemen appear in 27+ games, and Don Sweeney was the only d-man to dress for more than 62 games. Here's the team scoring leaders: Player Points Note Stumpel 76 One of two seasons he cracked 60 points. Oates 70 Finished 2nd on the team in scoring by 19 points despite being traded with more than 2 months left in the season Donato 51 Never again eclipsed 40 points or 16 goals; more than half his points included Oates and/or Bourque in the scoring play. Bourque 50 Tocchet 30 5th on the team in scoring, despite playing only 40 games - due to a shoulder injury, and then being traded along with Oates. DiMaio 28 His career high. He scored 3 shorthanded goals that year. Bourque assisted all 3. The only time Boston didn't make the playoffs was when they fielded... that. And Bourque was the only constant. When Boston did make the playoffs? Age Playoff Result Note 19 Lost 2nd round to the eventual champs (Islanders) 20 Lost 1st round to cup finalists (North Stars) 21 Lost 2nd round to Quebec in 7 games, 5 games decided by 1 goal 22 Lost 3rd round to the eventual champs (Islanders) 23 Lost 1st round 3-0 to Montreal, 2 games decided by 1 goal 24 Lost 1st round 3-2 to Montreal 25 Lost 1st round 3-0 to Montreal, 2 games decided by 1 goal 26 Lost 1st round 4-0 to Montreal, 2 games decided by 1 goal 27 Lost SCF to the champ Oilers, obviously... Compare these rosters! 28 Lost 2nd round 4-1 to Montreal, all 5 games decided by 1 goal 29 Lost SCF.. Oilers, again... 30 Lost 3rd round to the eventual champs (Penguins) 31 Lost 3rd round to the eventual champs (Penguins) 32 Lost 1st round a massive upset, though 3 games were decided in OT 33 Lost 2nd round 3 losses by a single goal (excluding empty netters) 34 Lost 1st round to the eventual champs (Devils) 35 Lost 1st round to cup finalists (Panthers} 36 Lost 1st round to cup finalists (Capitals), 2 losses in OT and another by 1 goal + empty netter 37 DNP 38 Lost 2nd round to cup finalists (Bruins), 2x 1-goal losses and another by 1 goal + empty netter --- Traded to Avalanche --- 39 Lost 3rd round to cup finalists (Stars), in 7 games, 3 losses by a single goal 40 Won Stanley Cup Bourque's teams surprisingly consistently lost: to the champs, or at least a team that reached the finals by a single game, and/or with many games decided by a single goal Sometimes you just don't get the bounces when you need them. The Bruins teams he played on were just not equipped to deal with the superteams of the day (NYI/EDM/PIT), and they didn't catch lightning in a bottle where everything went their way one particular year (CGY/MTL/NYR). The Bruins record with and without Bourque in the lineup (from the start of the 1979 season until March 6th, 2000): With: 770-546-202, 94 point pace, winning 50. 7% of games. Without: 57-52-22, 85 point pace, winning 43. 5% of games. Huh. So Bourque was pretty good I guess? Comparables Hockey-Reference tries to calculate a pool of the most comparable players based on " similarity scores ". tempts to find players whose careers were similar in terms of quality and shape. By shape,... things like: How many years did he play? How good were his best years compared to his worst years? Did he have a few great years and then several mediocre years, or did he have many good-but-not-great years? For example, Patrick Elias Comparables all have a "similarity score" of between 90 and 95 -- their career quality, duration, and arc was fairly close. Here is Bourque's: Only four ( 4! ) defensemen have a "similarity" score over 77. Even compared to elite Hall of Fame defensemen... Their careers almost universally "tapered off" earlier, and many of them much harder. Some of those guys were not super competitive at the end of their career - kept on to teach youngsters, to play out their contracts, as powerplay specialists or role players. Some of them continued to pile up offensive numbers but lost an edge defensively. Not Bourque. He was an absolute monster, from the start of his career and for 22 years to the very end. His "peak" seasons were crushing, His "great" seasons were comparable to many HoF'ers "peak" seasons, His "meh" seasons were still extremely comparable to elite defensemen just outside their prime. Using that measure (point shares) to approximate how much impact Bourque had... After all you've read, you shouldn't be surprised to find out Bourque is 2nd only to Gretzky. Not only are the two are pretty much neck and neck, but... gobs of elite players from history are way behind the two of them. Is that a perfect measure? No. But taken with the totality of information provided above? Even if you did shred/light/sink/flush all that evidence as requested? There's just too much of it. Bourque had the biggest career impact in defensive point shares. He shows up 7 times in the top-200 best defensive seasons - as compared to Lidstrom (5), Stevens (5), Robinson (7), Chelios (5), Savard (6)... He was top-4 in the league in defensive point shares 10 times. In his 2nd worst defensive season, at age 39, he was very roughly comparable to Alzner, Hainsey, Carlson, Muzzin, Stralman, Pietrangelo... His 2nd worst season, at age 39. Odds and Ends He won the "most accurate shooter" competition 8 times - including 5 years in a row from '97 to '01. Bourque started his career as 'injury prone'. He had three major fractures in two years: Ray Bourque suffered a fractured left [forearm] last week in a pickup softball game Bourque fractured his jaw in a fight at Detroit in November of 1980 actured his wrist during a check against Quebec defenseman Andre Dupont Bourque had every opportunity to make himself the highest paid defenseman and/or shop the market. Instead, he quietly and quickly resigned for salary amounts that even pissed off the NHLPA (who were trying to drive up wages) - he was only top-5 in salary one year in his career and regularly took home far less than he deserved. Bourque didn't take less money because he didn't care about money - he did file for arbitration in 1993. This is what the arbitrator had to say: A club's salary offer must properly recognize the players' capabilities and contributions. Bourque's achievements are "stunning". Every season he has been named to the All-Star Team and has been the winner or runner-up for the Norris Trophy as the game's best defenseman. Measured by the standards as agreed upon by the NHL and the NHLPA, including overall performance, number of games played, length of service, overall contribution to the club, and leadership and public appeal, Bourque simply is unmatched. Agreed... Something to keep in mind: The owners, certainly during the 80s, were (and some still are) actively fucking the players. They withheld all salary information, so as a player, you either had zero negotiating power, or you had to ask people their salary - which was much more frowned upon then. Bourque would go into negotiations having no idea what anyone else made. Ray Bourque said that in the past he and other players had tried to get salary information before negotiating and felt uncomfortable when doing so. "[having all salaries released] - it's good for the players, especially when it comes time to renegotiate, " he told the Montreal Gazette. "That way you know exactly how you fare with players at your level. It's a lot better than trying to go in and guess all the time. "You always felt uncomfortable going up to a guy and asking, 'Hey, how much are you making? ' This way all you have to do is peek at the list. " He wasn't trying to put the screws to his employer, he was awkwardly asking other players their salary.. I don't know Mr. Bourque, but... It sure sounds like he just wanted what was reasonably fair. Everybody has their own definition of "classy" but.. if that's not classy, then it's at least honorable. Another article from back in the day... Some players (eg., defenseman Raymond Bourque) have been criticized in the past because they did not test out the free-agent market and instead, out of loyalty to their teams, signed contracts for less money than they would have received if they had made themselves available to the highest bidder. Gripes.. with Bourque, obviously... but with what I expect someone to inevitably say: Well of course nobody will catch him in points, there were a bazillion goals in the 80s. Using League Averages (and no I didn't take an average of averages) the NHL saw teams average 3. 38 goals per game during Bourque's career. Since the '04-'05 lockout, the NHL has seen teams average 2. 85 goals per game -- the difference is under 20%. Okay? Now Karlsson only needs to average 79 points without missing a game until he's 40 to catch Bourque? Now Bourque drops from 11th to 17th in career points, still hundreds of points ahead of every defenseman except Coffey? So what. You still can't compare between eras even with adjusting. I don't think that era-adjusting is the be-all end-all. I haven't mentioned Harvey (7 Norris trophies in 8 years) or Shore (4 Harts) for that reason. That being said.. Award voting is among his peers, and he absolutely crushed that - in a manner that I sincerely doubt we'll ever see a defenseman replicate. Nobody in the NHL is even close to being consistently top-10 in Norris voting for a full decade. Time on ice is dictated by his coach and his capability, and has nothing to do with era. His team winning% fell by 7. 2% in the 1. 6 seasons worth of games he missed; that time on ice seems well-spent. His closest comparables had careers that overlapped his. He wasn't just compiling a fantastic career in a void - he was doing it while playing against all those guys. Fuck stats and numbers and all that stuff. Show me clips. I would love to, but Sadly.. The footage available online from that era is mostly garbage. There are some youtube compilations available that aren't hard to find if you're interested. The thing about highlight clips.. Yeah, Bourque had highlight plays, but... That wasn't what made Bourque great. The highlights were a cherry on top of the desert of Bourque's game; all the small things he did, and how consistently he did them, was the main course of the meal. In Summary... Ray Bourque's career was basically ~15 years of Norris-worthy play with 5-6 years of being "just" a clearly top-5 to top-10'ish defenseman. Please, the next time you see someone talking about the greatest defenseman ever... If someone rattles off the name Bourque like he was "just" one of those greats from the 80s/90s, politely remind them. Send them this link. Contact your local chapter of the Raymond Bourque Apprecation Club (if your area doesn't have one, start one). If someone forgets to mention Bourque while bringing up Lidstrom, Coffey, et al.. Please - head to the nearest market, find yourself the freshest fish you can (I personally recommend a trout) - and use it to slap them around a bit, because that's absurd. The next time you hear someone say "Gretzky/Lemieux/Howe/Orr type", consider adding Bourque to the list. If you somehow think he's not in a tier with those guys, then he must be _ all alone in your tier 2, because nobody else came close.

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Asystentka biura. Asystentka toku sgh. #WatchOnlineFreeViooz... On~ Watch The Assistant Online Insing. Watch The Assistant Online Goodvideohost…. Asystentka friza. Hey r/HFY! I wrote this for a sub I created recently for the purpose of posting orky fanfiction, r/OrksZogYeah I'm not sure if this is the sort of content you're seeking for the contest, but I had fun writing it. I hope you enjoy! ----- Bart nearly dropped his spanna when a quiet voice interrupted his pounding on the engine block in front of him. "Hey boss? " He glared at the sheepish kommando, his red eyes narrowing to slits. "Don't zoggin' sneak up on me, ya git! If I was workin' on a kustom shoota I coulda blasted yer zoggin' 'ead off. " The kommando shrugged. "Sorry boss, wanted ta tell ya we found doze 'umies you was lookin' for. " The mek grinned ferally. "Now dat's what I like ta hear. Did dey have dat big skinny fing on da roof? " "Jus' like you said, boss. " "Good. Get da lads ready, you've got some krumpin ta do. " ----- The ork hunched low behind a stand of rocks, scrubby grass swaying in the warm nighttime breeze. His gaze was locked on the form of a sentry winding his way around the perimeter of a squat, sturdy structure with a blinking antenna atop it. The sentry rounded a corner out of sight, and the kommando turned to the boyz assembled on the hardpacked dirt behind him. "Arright, lads, 'dis is it. Time ta go, real quiet-like. First git who opens his mouf at 'deze 'umies is gettin' krumped by me. " He picked his way down a barely-visible path through the thorny chaparral, boys following dutifully in his wake. The lead ork had already confiscated a handful of noisy sluggas and replaced them with wicked shivs. Their midnight-purple forms roiled like matte smoke in the starlit darkness. To the naked eye, they were part of the darkened landscape. To the sentries' auspex units they would be seen as clearly as if they marched in broad daylight, but by the time the sentry has worked his way around the building again they are out of sight. He raised his auspex and put his eyes to the lens, scanning the hillside. Lousy munitorum. Another week of work and they could have put the damn thing atop the hill and we'd just need an elevated observation platform. One bloke could watch the whole bloody perimeter. Before he could finish his scan a massive hand clamped around his mouth and throat, and he didn't have time to struggle before his neck was wrung like a poultry hen. Another sentry was grabbed as they passed by a stand of steel drums, a crude axe buried into their back. The third rounded a corner into a gaping jaw full of sturdy tusks. He tried to yelp, but his voice died in his throat as the ork bit his head off. Inside the squat structure the slaughter is quick and brutish. Unarmed radio techs offered little resistance to the burly kommandos as they smashed their way through the building's interior. "Good work lads, I don't fink dey 'eard a fing. Kroggy, you still got dat big bomb I gave ya? " "Sure do boss! We gonna blow dis 'ere fing up? " "Music ta my ears. Not dis fing, da mek wants it in one piece. If ya break dis I'll krump ya good. 'e said ta find da jennies wot power it, so you lads start takin' bites outta da cables until we find da one dat zaps ya da 'ardest. Den we put da bomb on woteva dat cable goes to. " "Wot's a jenny look like? " " I'll worry about dat. You lot jus' bite da cables and find da zappiest one. " Several arguments and one death by electrocution later, the kommandos congregated around a droning, fuming promethium generator. The bomb rested haphazardly on a small flat face of the rumbling Imperial device. "Good work boyz, we'll pour a grog on the ground for ol' Gruftoof when we get back ta camp. 'e was a good lad, and a great conducta. I'm proud of ya. Da mek didn' fink we could do it, but I proved 'im wrong by taking yer sluggas. Now ye can have 'em back, because after dat bomb goes off we gotta krump all da 'umies dat show up to figger out wot 'appened. Now watch out, because da mek is gonna come chargin' in wiv' 'is trukks when 'e 'ears dat bomb go off. Don't shoot at da trukks, and try not to get shot by dem coz we know dey ain't gonna be careful. " He took out a rough burlap sack full of heavy pistols and distributed them to the assembled boyz. The lads accepted the weapons eagerly. A yoof swung his around in excitement, and fired off a few test rounds. The lead kommando stared at him incredulously. "I jus' finished tell- ah zog it, da mek was right. We gotta get outta 'ere, da 'umies sure 'eard dat and we need ta get clear to blow up da bomb. Leg it boys! " ----- The greenskins scatter across the darkened camp, choosing hiding places using their most brootal kunnin'. The kommando eagerly squeezes the trigger on the detonator the mek entrusted to him, and the generator goes up in a plume of acrid smoke. The main lights sputter and die, and dim backups lend an unearthly glow to the facility grounds. An alarm begins to scream. ----- Trooper Markham wasn't sure what had brought him into the dim half-conscious state of pre-wakefulness, but he banged his head immediately afterwards on the bunk above as a shrill klaxon sprang to life. Groaning, he carefully rolled out of bed. All around him his platoon was shaking themselves into alertness. The sergeant was somehow already up and fully dressed, cursing sternly at the groggy press of unwashed bodies. God Emperor, we shouldn't have cracked that second bottle of amasec yesterday evening. He looked blearily at his squadmates shimmying frantically into their combat gear. It was clear he wasn't the only one with a heavy head and a churning stomach. He tried not to sway too visibly as he stooped to reach for his helmet and the barracks began to spin. "What in the blazes is going on, anyway? " He saw real fear in corporal Stennett's eyes when the man turned to him. "Something blew the camp's main generator. " "What, did the junior techpriest get a little handsy with it after all the amasec last night? " Stennett shook his head, his expression unchanged. "This is serious, Markham. We don't know what in the name of the Throne is going on. Didn't you hear the explosion before the lights went? Get your lasgun loaded and primed. " The trooper grabbed his rifle and slapped a power pack into the receptacle. He stuffed a handful of spares into his flak armour's tactical webbing. "Surely it can't be the orks, can it? Those stupid bastards couldn't get within a few klicks of the place without shooting and shouting to high heaven. " The corporal shrugged at him. "We don't know, Markham. Just get ready and get outside, the LT will have our orders. " ----- At least we aren't stationed on an iceball world Trooper Markham thought as the dusty breeze weaved around his unit's feet. He shook his head and tried to refocus on the forced calm of his lieutenant's voice. "-no radio contact since G1 went down, so our objective is to secure the relay building and then reestablish long-range vox with headquarters. Short-range vox has been unable to reach any of the station's staff. Underwood's squad are going to accompany the stubbers on loan from Epsilon company, Stennett's lads will sweep the radio station exterior, and the rest of you will form our assault teams. The junior techpriest will accompany my squad, we'll come in after the assault teams sweep the building. Pass any questions or concerns along to your squad lead and they'll bring them to me. We move out in 3. Dismissed. " Markham's guts churned with pre-op anxiety. Compared to the monotonous dread of garrison duties, the threat of real violence in their own backyard was galling. The sentries had screwed up bad. The trooper thanked his lucky stars that he would share no part of the commissariat's wrath on that particular charge. He thumbed the safety stud on his lasgun as the column of men set off towards the smoky plume at the edge of camp. By the Emperor please let it be a hardware malfuntion the trooper pleaded silently as the noisy tread of standard-issue boots blended into a steady scuffle. As they drew closer to their objective it became ever more clear that something was awry. One of their demolition-men stopped at a ruined scrap of metal and noted that it must have been a proper explosive to throw debris so far. The backup lights cast a frightful aura over the camp, made worse by the dying flames licking hungrily at the wreckage of the generator. Visibility was poor and shadows menaced the guardsmen as they picked their way through the gloom. Too poor for microbeads, the regiment relied on old-fashioned hand signals and disciplined vox technicians to maintain lines of communication in combat. The latter was useless at the small-unit level, and the former was hardly adequate in the night's sparse light conditions. As a result Underwood's squad and the heavy stubbers milled about aimlessly while the assault teams took their time surrounding the building. Stennett's men spread out along their pre-planned sweep vectors, with Markham taking the dreaded far-edge path. He looked down his gunsights with a dry mouth. That's odd, where the hell is Underwood's squad? We're supposed to clear nests for them to set up the stubbers. He was just about to signal to Trooper Bledel to get the corporal's attention when the first throaty gunshots rang out. ----- Kroggy smiled happily at the small cluster of flak-armoured soldiers arrayed before him. They had agreed with his assessment that this hiding place was an excellent vantage point from which to observe the radio station and its grounds. They immediately failed, by da boss' metrics at least, to do their due diligence in securing their vantage point from infiltrators. One of the 'umies with a sword on his hip was chatting animatedly with his fellow as they laid a hefty gun, while a third companion had loaded the weapon and was lugging cartons of ammunition into a small pile near the weapon. Kroggy waited for the ammo-mule to stray out of his comrades' peripheral vision, like da boss taught him, to step out and slam his rusty choppa into the man's torso with a wet, heavy THWUNK. The sturdy metal clove through the man's collarbone with buttery ease, and the bottom two-thirds of him were opened to the sky. Before the other 'umies could respond, he wrenched the blade free and beheaded the heavy gunner. The sword-wielder cleared his weapon from its sheath with lightning speed and brandished it at the ork. The ork raised his slugga to the man's chest and blew ragged, bloody holes in the drab armour. "Sorry boss, 'e looked pretty good. " A shout went up from nearby, and Kroggy looked out over the camp grounds to see a squad of guardsmen rapidly approaching his little nest. He looked thoughtfully at the gun the Imperials had been setting up. "Now dat's a zoggin' shoota. Wonder how dat fing works, anyway. " One of his massive hands curled around the carry handle. The humans were much closer now. He slapped at the back of the weapon. The 'umies didn't put a proppa handle on the damn thing, and he had no idea how to hold it or where the firing mechanism was. One of his slaps depressed the firing spoon and a cloud of hard rounds chewed the dirt at his feet. "OH. Oh YEAH! " Blood surged in the ork's veins as he came to grips with the sheer volume of dakka he now held in his hands. The 'umie shoota ate up its chains of ammunition so quickly the ork felt the need to keep firing in the core of his being. He grabbed clumsily for the firing spoon again, and the muzzle erupted in a stream of blazing violence. He swung the carry handle in the direction of the charging 'umies and watched a line of tracers kick dirt into the air as the steaming barrel described a glowing arc through the night. The line crossed paths with the charging infantrymen and they went down in a spray of gore. The ork whooped with excitement and held the spoon down, reveling as the gun spat round after round downrange to spang off the radio station's walls. Da boss was going to kill him for the racket he was making, and so Kroggy luxuriated in every moment of unrestrained violence he wreaked with his shiny new shoota. If he survived the beating when they got back to camp he was going to be the envy of his entire mob. The ammo box quickly ran dry, and Kroggy's guts ached with a fleeting sense of loss. He looked down at the gun mournfully. He was never going to figure out how to reload the zoggin' thing. He tore the empty box off of it, and saw rails where a replacement could slot in. Well, da grots might be able ta figger it out... He shrugged and began gathering as many of the boxes as he could carry. Then he heard a sound that kindled the flames in his heart as fearsomely as any looted shoota, the roar of orky engines. ----- Trooper Markham panned his rifle along hazy lines of sight, no longer able to fight the trembling of his hands. Things had deteriorated rapidly once the shooting started. Markham had been fortunate enough to get the drop on an ork infiltrator, and silently slew it with his bayonet just in time to watch one of its comrades laterally bisect Trooper Bledel with an enormous axe. He shot that ork down, and then watched in horror as things devolved into pure chaos. A machinegun nest opened up on the radio station building, cutting down the entire second assault team. Markham couldn't see into the nest, but friendly fire was a shamefully common incident when guardsmen began to panic. A pair of guardsmen were firing over their shoulders at something as they fled a darkened press of tents. Markham turned his head for a moment to look at a sound, and when he turned back they were gone. Then the roar of crude engines suffused the muted cacaphony of the nighttime skirmish. Rudimentary halogen lamps made opaque clouds of the promethium smoke hanging in the air. Oversized slug-throwers noisily belched storms of lead at the faintest hint of a silhouette in the haze. The Speed Freeks had arrived. Thankfully his current foxhole kept him out of sight of the ork cavalry for the most part. He switched his lasgun to full-auto and hosed glaring red beams vengefully at an onrushing wartrakk, the only target in his field of fire. He was gratified to see the driver slump over the handlebars before a bump caused the trakk to slew wildly, sending them tumbling from their perch. The vehicle's magazine of rokkits touched off in the crash, and the blast knocked Markham flat. He lay on the ground, ears ringing louder than a titan's war-horn, and asked the God-Emperor why he had allowed Platoon 3 of Delta Company to get after the amasec the night prior. They were God-fearing soldiers. Sure, some of them missed time with the battalion's chaplain more often than the Ecclesiarchy would prefer. Some of them got up to extracurriculars and leisure activities that were not strictly approved of by the Guard. Some of them were simply mean, unpleasant bastards. By the Emperor though, they were good soldiers! They did their job with the minimum mandatory amount of grumbling as dictated by The Unspoken Code of Enlisted Men. They mostly paid attention when the commissars howled at them. They even went to great lengths to ensure their enthusiastic junior tech-priest committed as little techno-heresy as possible in the maintenance of their equipment. They deserved better than to die rolling in the dirt, with a pounding headache and churning guts. His sulking was interrupted by the hopeful face of Corporal Stennett looming into his field of vision. The man offered a helping hand and pulled the dazed trooper to his feet with a wary grin. "Glad I'm not the only one left. We've got to get out of here, someone has to tell the company vox officer to notify com-" Before he could finish his sentence the corporal's grinning face vanished in a puff of red mist, stolen away by some improbably large projectile. It was the spark that ignited the slow, bubbling panic that had been building in Markham's chest like a gas leak. His gun fell from numb fingers to slap against the dirt. A stricken, wordless sound caught in his throat over and over, like an engine trying and failing to start. He fled the corporal's headless corpse as it slumped over, blood gushing into a viscous pool. Pallets of gear and scrubby vegetation streamed by in his peripheral vision as he ran, ran, ran blindly away from the perceived danger. He didn't realize, but he was running in the direction of the barracks, of the warm safety his bunk represented. He ran right into the hulking form of an ork kommando, looted heavy stubber slung across its considerable shoulders. ----- Kroggy blinked at the 'umie in surprise. Normally it took a tremendous effort to corner the Imperials into a fight, and twice today they'd stumbled into his lap. Taken alongside the divine providence his gigantic new shoota represented, he was starting to think he'd done something to earn the favour of Gork and Mork. ----- The thing barked at him in its brutish tongue, and to his astonishment Trooper Markham picked up garbled Gothic loanwords. " Oi 'umie, gorka murg live barga die? " It took a moment to process the gravelly baritone, but then comprehension dawned on the trooper's face. "I want to live! " "Live? " The soldier nodded vigorously at the greenskin. It scratched its chin thoughtfully, looking vaguely disappointed. It gestured at a nearby stack of stubber ammo boxes, and pantomimed lifting them. It pointed at him. "Grab dakka dakka. " "Me? " The ork looked around, as if to say If not then who else? and the trooper managed to feel foolish somewhere beneath their mind-blanking fear. "I can't carry all that! " The ork scowled at him. "Krump ya! " It brandished its bloody blade at him and he winced as scraps of his comrades' flesh flapped in the breeze. To punctuate its threat it slammed the hefty chunk of metal clean through a sturdy steel drum waiting to be unloaded from its pallet. God-Emperor, but these things were strong. He raised his hands in placation. "Alright, alright! Let me think for a second. " " Grab da zoggin' dakka barga krump ya! " "Just wait, I have an idea! " The soldier kept his hands in the air as he nervously edged towards a powered-down grav-jack. Bless the damnfool munitorum labourer who forgot it here at the end of their shift! The ork babbled angrily, but stayed its killing blow. He nudged the jack with his foot and looked at the ork encouragingly. "Watch this. " Its piggy little eyes narrowed suspiciously. He grabbed a pair of ammo boxes and tossed them on the jack. If the bloody commissars could see me now he thought sardonically as he hustled to stack the whole pile of boxes neatly on the jack's waiting arms. The ork began to babble again, and Markham cut it off. "This is it, the moment of truth. " He prayed to the Emperor, the Omnissiah, and even offered a secret shameful side-prayer to whatever Gods the orks follow for a little extra luck, before slapping the activation rune with far greater enthusiasm than his techpriests would have deemed germane. With a hum the jack rose up above his ankles. A noise of unrestrained delight issued from over his shoulder. The trooper turned just in time to see the ork hop into the air, waving its weapons joyfully. Markham wondered if the ork realized how happy he was that he wouldn't need to cart the ammo by hand. The ork turned with what looked like it might have been a frown, and a moment later the human heard the growing roar of a massive engine. It shoved him hard toward a cluster of crates, fear and confusion washing out the glow of his prior success. Then, as he peered out from his cover, he understood. A ramshackle truck roared up to the greenskin. One of its gunners whooped and opened fire on a distant stand of red barrels. To Markham's amazement they exploded. He was almost certain the oil they contained wasn't that volatile. A large ork with a mostly-metal face poked its head out of a viewport and looked at Markham's captor. After a brief shouting exchange the pedestrian scratched its head pensively. It turned and pointed in the direction of the radio building. The metal ork nodded, then withdrew into the port. The truck tore off through the camp, crushing tents as it went. The ork sprinted towards his cover. Upon seeing him still there, it grabbed him and tossed him in the direction of the grav lift, barking its command again. It was going to be a long day. ----- "You asked for me boss? " Bart banged his head on the underside of a metal panel and dropped his bulky soldering iron with a curse. It crushed a gretchin assistant as it clanged to the floor. "Zog it, that was my favourite grot you sneaky git! I put a clanger by the zoggin' door, jus' ring it next time! " "Sorry boss. Did you need somefing? " "I did. 'ow many of yer boys survived yer raid on the 'umie camp? " "Lost a few but we's mostly arright, why? " "Come wiv me, yer gonna like this. " A few minutes of stomping and ranting later, the mek lead the kommando to a scrapmetal shack with the battered 'umie antenna atop it. The lights no longer blinked of their own accord, but the mek had stationed gretchin with coloured lamps in little crow's nests attached to the pole in case they performed some essential function. The mek hauled the door open, nearly tearing it from its crude hinges. He gestured impatiently to the kommando, who followed him inside. Dominating the space was a labrynthine snarl of modifications jury-rigged to the looted 'umie radio receiver. They blinked and sparked a hypnotic quickstep across the patina of rust that garbed the unmistakeably orky device. "Issa nice lookin' wotsit, boss. " The mek scoffed. "Not dat you'd know much about dat. We've been workin' together for a long time, innit? " "Yeh, nearly 'slong as I been alive, boss. " "Yer clever, so'z I keep ya 'round, even if y'are a troublesome sneaky git. " The kommando looked thoughtful. "Dat's true. Yer a better boss than most, I reckon. You got a point, boss? " "Well, ya might 'ave noticed I asked yer boys to krump dat camp so we could loot it. A slower nob than you'd already be askin' me why even bovver wiv' a camp dat 'as no big guns or 'umie tanks, but mefinks you know I 'ave an angle. " "I'm 'opin' you'll jus' tell me, boss. I know ya do but I'll be zogged if I fink I know wot it is. " The mek grinned widely, a disturbing sight given the extensive modifications to his face. His cybork arm's pneumatics hissed as he reached out, waving his gauntleted hand to indicate the contraption dominating the room. "Dis 'ere is called a radio. It's gonna let us listen to da 'umies' bosses givin' 'em orders. You fink you can cause some 'eadaches wiv' it? " It was the kommando's turn to scoff. He returned the mek's grin savagely. "You know wot, boss? I fink I jus' might. " -----.

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2. Reporter: Paul Boselie
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