by Ben Counter, Guy Haley, Joshua Reynolds, Cavan Scott (epub)
‘Midget Mogrok?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘A lot of big meks in this Waaagh! That’s the truth,’ said Snikgob.
‘And every one a git,’ said Uggrim. He hurled his spanner at the bubble field. It bounced off with a ‘wom’.
‘What did you do that for?’ asked Snikrot. ‘You’ve lost your favourite spanner now.’
‘I’m not happy, Sniks.’
‘All right,’ said Snikgob soothingly. ‘All right. Don’t let it get to you, Uggs. We can kill them all later. Come on, let’s go out for a smoke.’
‘Yeah, alright. Where’s Bozgat?’
‘I dunno, does it matter?’
As if he’d heard, the crazy yatter of Bozgat’s madboy Talker echoed down from somewhere high above. The bubble field wobbled, sending fiery ripples over the sun’s surface. Somewhere, something went ‘ping!’
‘Bah, leave him,’ said Snikgob. ‘Let’s go.’
The meks emerged at the top of an earth embankment mounded up around the reactor shell. From there, they could see all the way over the grassy plain to the main camp, a messy sprawl of tents, shacks, wrecks, scrap piles, drops, runtpens and, further out, mekboy compounds like their own, all lit up with orange campfires and buzzing floodlamps. At the centre hulked a beached rustship, the Bad Gob. The faint glimmer of a force field, one of Mogrok’s specials, covered it all over like a giant umbrella, tinging the stars green.
The Bad Gob was in a sorry state, its cannibalised hull full of holes and the entire stern missing. Mogrok had cut it up for his secret weapon, the mighty traktor kannon he called the Klaw of Mork. There it was at the prow, pointing skywards, as tall as only the most pompous Bad Moon’s creation could be. Its thick stream of green energy pierced the force dome at the top, stretching out into beyond the atmosphere where it was about its job, namely dragging down a comet from space to drop on a bunch of humies.
Despite the energy barrier protecting the camp, the air brought the smell of distant battle to the ork meks, mixed with the sulphurous stink of Alaric’s seas. They breathed it in deeply, noses twitching in appreciation.
‘Get a good view from here, good look at the energy beam coming off the Klaw,’ said Uggrim appreciatively. ‘Say what you like about Mogrok–’
‘He’s a git,’ interrupted Snikgob. ‘A verminous, lice-ridden git.’
‘That he is,’ said Uggrim. ‘But he knows his stuff. Look up there! There’s that comet thing.’ He squinted hard. ‘Be here soon, then blam!’ he slapped his fist into his palm. ‘Loadsa dead humies.’
He and Snikgob chuckled evilly.
‘Yeah, and it’s us what’s giving it the juice,’ Snikgob said proudly. He nodded at the thick black cabling snaking through the grass from their reactor toward the Bad Gob. He produced a smoke from his grubby trousers and jammed it between his fangs. ‘I don’t like that Mogrok, but it’s been good, this job. Been feeling a bit slow lately on the mekking front, a bit… stale.’ He stretched out, lifting his long, wiry arms high over his head. ‘Ooh!’ he said, as his backbone cracked, then added brightly. ‘And Mogrok won’t kill us.’
Uggrim gave his friend a sidelong glance. ‘You know, I’ve said this before, but I’m gonna say it again. Are you sure you are okay, Snikgob? You have been suspiciously cheery of late. The old Snikgob, the proper Snikgob, was miserable all the time. Now, you’re only miserable most of the time.’
Snikgob shrugged. ‘Well, I dunno, Uggs, I’m just feeling upbeat, ya know? This is a good fight, you gotta admit. Big humie walkers, loads of pinkies to squish. Good eating on them too, well fed this lot. And then there’s that!’ he pointed a long-taloned finger at the Klaw. ‘Come on, there’s some real know-wots there. It’s impressive.’
‘Suppose,’ said Uggrim grudgingly.
Snikgob scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. ‘Maybe I’m just getting old. Maybe it’s giving me a new perspective on things. Like, them stars is nice to look at.’ He pointed out a bunch of bright lights low in the sky to the north.
‘You what?’ yelled Uggrim, jumping back. ‘Stars? You is going soft! You… You…’ Uggrim was quite at a loss for words.
‘What, don’t you tell me you got no time for a quiet moment?’ said Snikgob. ‘It’s when I do me best thinking that, looking up at the sky, losing meself in the lights, dreaming about going someplace else and bashing it up real good. Hur hur hur.’
‘Not right, I says,’ said Uggrim, shaking his head.
‘Suit yourself,’ said Snikgob. To Uggrim’s relief, Snikgob’s face settled into its normal sour expression, jaw jutting forward, lip curled. He plucked out a match from behind his ear and lit his smoke. Foul-smelling blue fumes wreathed his piggy face, completing the familiar image. Uggrim relaxed a bit.
Meanwhile, Uggrim’s boss grot Frikk had taken some time out from being kicked to poke about in the soil for worms. No luck. He sighed. Now the orks were outside, he’d soon be called back for another beating. ‘And I still haven’t had me tea,’ he said softly. As Snikgob mentioned the stars, Frikk looked up at the sky.
‘But Boss Snikgob, he’s right. Them stars is so nice and all,’ he said, feeling immensely sorry for himself. ‘They is like jewels, jewels in the sky, all afire. I wish I could goes there, where there is no orks! That would be so…’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Hang on a minute…’ his ears went flat against his head.
‘Them’s not stars! Boss, boss!’ called Frikk. He walked backwards up the hill, not taking his eyes of the stars, until he bumped into Uggrim’s leg. The ork ignored him.
‘Boss! Boss! Look!’
Uggrim cuffed him in the face.
‘Ow!’ said Frikk.
‘Stop plucking at me trousers you stupid grot, it’s annoying. Sniks and me,’ Uggrim paused dubiously, ‘well, we is having a quiet moment.’
‘Sorry boss, but, but…’ said Frikk.
‘What is it?’ said Snikgob.
‘Them stars! Them ones Boss Snikgob said!’ Frikk held a shaking hand up. ‘They is moving!’
‘Oh yeah!’ said Uggrim. He frowned. ‘Oh, yeah.’
‘Nah, it’s just a trick of the light,’ said Snikgob. ‘Just stars.’
‘Nah…’ said Uggrim pointing. ‘Look, one just flew over, right past the secondary effulgence corona of the gravitic attraction wave,’ he said, using the special mek talk which even the meks didn’t really understand. ‘Stars don’t do that, do they?’
Snikgob took his smoke out of his mouth. ‘Not as a rule, no,’ he said.
‘Humies?’ said Uggrim.
‘Probably. They’ll never get through that forcefield though. Idiots.’
‘Why can I hear guns then?’
‘Right,’ said Snikgob. ‘Guns.’
‘Coming from the Bad Gob, sounds like.’
A loud explosion preceded the thunderous collapse of the force bubble. Cold night air rushed in.
‘Nope, not stars. You is right, Frikk. Sorry for punching you in the face.’
‘It’s alright, boss,’ said Frikk.
‘That’s okay. Here’s another so you don’t get cheeky.’
Uggrim’s blow knocked Frikk onto his backside.
‘Ow! I mean, thanks boss,’ said Frikk.
The pops of small arms fire crackled over the plain and bullets streaked the sky.
‘Looks like a good fight,’ said Snikgob.
‘Looks like fun,’ said Uggrim. ‘Frikk! Fire up me speedsta. We is going for a little drive.’
Frikk groaned inwardly, his hand clamped over his swollen nose. He hated riding the buggy. Uggrim always insisted on taking him along.
‘I’m going to get my burna,’ said Snikgob, and hurried off.
Snikgob came jogging back a minute later, a large burna tank sloshing on his back.
Uggrim’s buggy was a new proje
ct, hammered together in the idle hours after they’d fixed up the little sun for Mogrok. Snikgob thought it a beauty, a two-ork job with a cracking red paint scheme. Its oversized engine sat exposed on the chassis bed in front of the driver’s seat, six exhaust pipes running along the sides. The tyres were especially fat, bigger at the back than the front. Carefully made mudguards curled over them, wicked flame detailing lovingly painted on them and shone up real nice by the Red Sunz’ grots.
Frikk hung limply in a leather harness from the bosspole at the back, a little goggled flying hat on his head, ears drooping with misery. He hated driving, especially with his boss at the wheel. Uggrim, on the other hand, was seething with impatience. He was already in the driver’s seat gunning the engine, his own lucky goggles pulled down over his eyes.
‘Come on! Come on!’ Uggrim shouted, ‘Get in! Get in! In the back! Get in me gunner’s perch!’
Snikgob jumped into the gunner’s station behind Uggrim. ‘I’m in!’
Uggrim smiled evilly. ‘Good, because I got an idea.’
‘Now,’ said Snikgob, lighting the pilot light on his burna with his cigar. It whooshed as he adjusted it. ‘That wouldn’t have anything to do with this being a battle and all, and there being a good chance of a certain ork having a bit of an accident, would it?’
‘Might be, Sniks,’ said Uggrim, flicking switches and twisting knobs. ‘Might be.’
With a lurch and the stink of burning squig oil, the buggy shot off, flying over the plain toward the Bad Gob at intemperate speed. ‘Not bad for an afternoon’s work!’ he cackled.
‘Don’t go all freek on me!’ howled Snikgob. But he laughed madly too, leaning out of the gunner’s cage to let his tongue flap in the breeze. For all the Red Sunz’ disavowal of bikes and buggies in favour of stompas, they were still Evil Sunz, and all Evil Sunz, deep down, liked driving fast.
‘They has taken out the generator, have to have done. There must be a fight at the tower!’ said Snikgob.
‘That’s where Dagogg’s got all his guns!’ shouted Uggrim, accelerating carelessly past the broken rear end of the Bad Gob right into the heart of the camp.
The place was in uproar. Orks were running everywhere, shooting at everything that moved, and that meant mainly each other. Uggrim swerved to avoid a wild-eyed boy brandishing a shoota, mowing down a couple of gretchin. They bounced off the front plate, one landing on Snikgob’s face.
‘Get off me face!’ he roared as he flung the grot aside. ‘Watch it, Uggs.’
‘Sorry!’ said Uggrim.
A pair of human aircraft strafed the mek camp, bringing bright destruction out of the night. They shot overhead, split, banked, and came back for another go. Tracer bullets and curses chased them there and back again, but the boys were awful shots and the fightas buzzed overhead with impunity.
‘Why ain’t the big guns gunning for them?’ shouted Snikgob.
They soon saw why, when Uggrim swerved around a pile of burning debris and headed for the tower, the camp’s main air defence and housing for the force field generator. It was more of a fort really, wide-sided, tall and strong, if rickety in appearance, with many floors and a couple of big firing platforms at different levels up top.
‘They is shooting at the ground! Not the sky!’ yelled Uggrim.
‘What?’ shouted Snikgob, who couldn’t hear him.
‘I said, they is shooting at the ground! There must be humies in da camp!’ hollered Uggrim.
‘What? Shout louder! The engine’s too loud!’ yelled Snikgob, who still couldn’t hear Uggrim.
Smoke billowed from the forcefield generator room on the lowest floor. From the top, bright green zzap lances and eerie force bubbles crisscrossed the night. Plumes of earth leapt up from the ground as kannon shells impacted.
‘Woah,’ said Snikgob. ‘Either everyone’s gone crazy, or there’s humies in da camp!’
A gunship came right at the tower, guns spitting. There was the discharge of a gravity weapon, and the flyer was snatched out the skies and dashed to flaming pieces on the ground.
‘Dagogg’s up there! That was his gun!’ shouted Snikgob.
‘Good, let’s go kill him,’ growled Uggrim.
Bright flashes were coming from the top of the tottering tower, a fierce gunfight in progress. The spindly forms of humans ran about the parapet of the lower platform, slaughtering grots. Guns exploded, but the humies couldn’t get them all. The weird whoops and buzzes of mek weapons were deafening up close. Snikgob chuckled appreciatively as one smashed a humie from the top. He fell to the ground, arms flailing, dying with a wet crunch.
Uggrim slewed around the base of the tower, nearly running into a fight between some armoured humies and a bunch of squealing grots. The humans were shouting in their funny talk.
Snikgob let rip with his skorcha. A gout of fire whooshed past the melee, incinerating an unfortunate gretchin. ‘Mork’s teeth!’ he yelled. ‘Slow down, I can’t hit a thing!’
‘Alright! Alright!’ yelled Uggrim, slewing around the tower. ‘I’m going round for another go! Get them on the way back!’ He cornered with what could be generously described as carefree élan, tipping the buggy up onto two fat wheels.
‘Boss, boss! Oh boss, please slow down, please!’ screamed Frikk as the buggy slammed down.
‘Shut it, you,’ growled Snikgob. He glared at the quivering gretchin, who was several shades paler than usual. ‘If you widdle down my back, I’ll give you something real to whine about.’
They whizzed alongside the tower on the far side to the fight. Boys were forming up into mobs. Nobs bellowed orders. The whole camp was roused.
‘I’m going in,’ said Snikgob. He clambered outside the gunner’s cage, leaning out, ready to leap.
‘Go for it!’ Uggrim slowed just the tiniest amount to let Snikgob jump, which he did, landing at an angle in an impressive skid, heavy boots ploughing up the ground.
‘Right!’ Snikgob said, switching his burna to ‘cutting flame’. ‘Time to teach that Dagogg a bit of a lesson. I’ll chop him up good.’
He set off for the tower entrance just as the top exploded with unfeasible volume, knocking him onto his backside. Dead gretchin, bits of ork, smashed machines and plates of metal rained down all around him. A second later, a bunch of humies came plummeting out of the air, slowing at the very last minute to touchdown softly.
Now he got a good look at them, Snikgob saw that they weren’t like the usual humie fighter – not beakees, but almost as heavily armoured, with thick plates stained dark with soot covering their torsos and limbs. They also didn’t look as scared as the usual humans. Two of them caught sight of Snikgob. Much to his amazement, instead of running off to find their mates, they levelled their rifles at him. Snikgob rolled to one side, no mean feat with a burna tank on your back. A blast of laser energy cut into his shoulder guard, burning right through it.
‘You got some juice on them blastas!’ said Snikgob, leaping to his feet.
They took aim again, but Snikgob was too quick. He barged between them, elbow swinging sharply backwards to knock one down. He squeezed his burna trigger, sending a bright blue tongue of intense flame from the nozzle, and slashed it down at the second humie, cutting right the way through its gun. The weapon fell away in two pieces, the rear part dangling from power cables attaching it to the humie’s backpack.
Snikgob’s eyebrows went up. That wasn’t a normal humie gun at all.
The humie yelled at him in its ridiculous voice, pulling a tiny knife Snikgob wouldn’t have used to peel a squig. It came at him, its flat face all scrunched up. They ducked and dodged, but the human was quick and buried the knife to the hilt in Snikgob’s meaty forearm.
Snikgob and the humie looked at the knife, then at each other.
‘You is pretty good, humie,’ said Snikgob. He paused as the pain hit him. ‘Ow!’
The
humie lunged for the knife, tried to pull it free, but the knife was stuck fast. All the human did was get too close.
‘Persistent little fella, ain’t ya?’ Snikgob rumbled, and headbutted the humie square on the nose. The humie went down hard, face pushed in like a squashed crate.
‘Ork jaw, humie face, no contest,’ said Snikgob. He spun round to see the other humie legging it, trying to catch up with his mates who were disappearing into the dark.
‘Oh no you don’t!’ said Snikgob. He twisted the knob back to ‘whoosh!’ and sent a blast of yellow flame searing into the night.
Snikgob never got to see if he got the humie or not. Uggrim’s speedsta burst through the cloud of fire and slewed to a halt, his buggy covered in guttering patches of burna fuel.
‘I’m back, let’s go!’ roared Uggrim. Frikk was clinging to the bosspole so hard it was like he was part of it.
‘Couldn’t find Dagogg,’ said Snikgob as he leapt aboard. ‘Chances are he’s dead already.’
‘That’s what I figured,’ said Uggrim. ‘Let’s go kill some humies instead.’
‘Ha! I got two al… argh! Watch it – I’m not strapped in!’ Snikgob fell backwards as Uggrim set off in hot pursuit.
‘Out the zogging way!’ yelled Uggrim, waving his hand. Orks and gretchin were running pell-mell in every direction. The buggy hurtled parallel to the humie’s escape route, trying to cut them off, only for the meks to find the humies sprinting directly at them out of the chaos, heading towards the edge of the camp. The buggy overshot, and the humies were gone into the confusion of smoke, fire and darkness again. Snikgob sent out a long plume of fire after the invaders, igniting three shacks. One exploded.
‘That was Ifgut’s Booze Hut, weren’t it?’ said Snikgob. Frikk nodded frantically in response.
‘No pinky gives Uggrim the slip!’ Uggrim roared, braked hard, and skidded in a wide arc, sending clods of earth scything skywards.