Blood And Rocks

Chapta 13

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Blood And Rocks

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The group led by Hazug gathered up their weapons. Mainly this was pistols and simple hand weapons, but both Hazug and Thuggrim had their custom rifles and Hazug also possessed a weapon that mounted a blade on a long handle that was obviously not of orkish manufacture. He had captured this from the alien necrons and although the weapon’s original power source had ceased to function when the alien tombs were destroyed Mek Batrug had been able to rig a partially effective solution using the power packs used for human lasguns like those Salia and Sophie carried. He had used the exotic alien weapon against a daemon before when a powerful creature had taken possession of the body of Venris Highbalt and it had proven effective against such creatures. Therefore despite its weight and bulk Hazug decided to take it with him.

Hazug started by Charome’s body, soon locating the tracks left by Higgs as he had returned to the rest of his party and Hazug followed these until he found where they met with those of the other humans. As he had expected the tracks moved about at random where the single trail joined them as if the humans had paused here for a while and then all led off in one direction.

“Dare ya go Cuddles.” Hazug said, pulling the squig to where the tracks led away, “See if ya can follow dat.”

The squig sniffed at the ground, initially walking around in circles as he attempted to pick out the various scents. Then he set off in the direction the humans had gone until reaching the end of his leash.

“Ratish come take over.” Hazug called out.
”Yes master, Ratish ‘old da squig.” Ratish said excitedly, but as soon as he took hold of the leash and Hazug let go Cuddles began to drag him off, “Slow down!” Ratish yelled as he attempted to stop the squig, “Master, da squig won’t stop.”

“I don’t want ‘im to yet.” Hazug replied as he unslung his rifle. Then he looked around at the rest of his portion of the warband, “Okay den, let’s get movin’.” He told them and he set off after Ratish and Cuddles.

 

There was a rustling from the undergrowth as Jansen led the way along the forest trail. He would have liked to remain behind to watch the effectiveness of the summoned daemon engine at first hand, but even if his group had not been pressed for time to reach their camp before nightfall there was still the issue of what the unbound daemon would have done to him. The stones were issued with strict warnings not be anywhere near them when the summoned daemons appeared.
”Jansen?” a voice called out as the first of four humans appeared from the bushed either side of the trail, two of them in front of the group and the other two behind to box them in, “What took you so long?”

Jansen glanced around at Mortel as his remaining concubines.

“Some of us just can’t walk as quick.” He said.

“You made here with him though.” The sentry replied, ”And before dark as well.”

“I didn’t fancy spending the night out there.” Jansen said, “There are orks about. Or at least there were.”
”You used one of the stones?”

“Had to.”
”Oh well, plenty more where they came from.” The sentry said.

“Excuse me young man.” Mortel called out as he approached Jansen and the sentry, “But I am Viktor Mortel and I would like to speak with your superiors immediately.”

The sentry smiled and looked at Jansen.

“He’s with The Mason now.” He said and Jansen looked at Mortel.

“If you’ll come with me sir, I’ll take you to the captain.” He said and he began to walk around the sentry.

Jansen led the group past the checkpoint and into the riverside clearing up ahead where Mortel suddenly halt and scowled.

“This is your base?” he asked as he looked around at the various tents and hastily built shelters arrayed around the clearing. He had known that the rebels possessed only limited resources since being driven from their previous locations in the city but he had at least expected them to have large military issue tents that would allow him and his concubines to share comfortably. Instead most of the tents looked to be suitable for only one or two people and with little room to move.

On the other hand many of the inhabitants of the camp were military in appearance. Few of them looked old enough to have served in the Planetary Defence Forces before the ork invasion, but they looked as if the survivors of that force had properly trained them. But Mortel and his party were far from the only civilians present and Mortel spotted numerous non-combatants around the camp.
”What did you expect?” Jansen replied.

“Well more than this.” Mortel said, “I mean there’s not enough room in any of these for myself and my companions. We’ll need something bigger.”

“Oh really? And how would you move it? We have to be ready to move just in case the orks suspect we’re here. A large tent takes a lot of effort to dismantle and move and like I said we don’t have any vehicles here. We have just one large tent in the entire camp, look there it is now.”

“Ah, excellent.” Mortel said, “And is it available?”

“Not likely.” Jansen replied, “That’s where we’re headed now. That tent belongs to The Mason.”

“The Mason?” one of Mortel’s concubines asked, “Who’s that?”

“If what I hear is correct,” Mortel told her, “he’s the man that will give us the capability to be free from the orks once an for all.”

Like the camp itself The Mason was not quite what Mortel had expected. His contacts had told him that The Mason was an individual of great power who was able to fashion some sort of weaponry using only the most basic of tools. Mortel had assumed that he was a tech priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the organisation that maintained the fantastic technologies available to the Imperium of Man. Though old enough to remember Crasus Minor prior to the ork invasion Mortel never encountered a tech priest for himself, the governor had never welcomed them or any outsider for that matter. But he had heard of such individuals from his father who had seen several low ranking tech priests in the years before the governor had tightened his grip on power and entertained his family with tale of the abilities of even these individuals. The more senior tech priests were said to have weapons of incredible destructive power built into their own bodies and be capable of constructing almost anything they desired. Even one such individual could supply the arms needed to drive the orks from the planet.

However, the man that Mortel now found himself looking at was entirely human, unlike the heavily augmented tech priests and in addition to his emaciated appearance the man was obviously blind.

“Ah Mister Mortel.” The other man standing beside the one known as The Mason, “I’m so glad you could join us.”

“Ah, yes.” Mortel replied, still staring at The Mason.

“Captain Yale, I’m not what he expected.” The Mason said.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that.” Mortel responded.

“Of course you’re not.” Yale said to The Mason, ignoring Mortel’s protest, “No one expects you.”

“I hope that the orks do not.” The Mason replied, smiling.

“Is there any word of the bomb you planted at the Trader’s association meeting?” Mortel then asked, concerned about the repercussions of his betrayal of his position.

The Mason laughed.

“A bomb he says!” the man said, “Listen to me Mortel, I do not make bombs. What I make is far more dangerous than that.
”Then what?” Mortel asked, “I heard Hal talking about planting something in the meeting room and I assumed-“

“You assumed wrong.” Yale interrupted, “Now I suggest that you and your associates go and grab some of our spare tents for yourselves. Your part in our plan doesn’t start until we’re ready to encourage a general uprising. Until then just try and keep out of the way.”

Mortel frowned. Following his recruitment by the anti-ork movement he had pictured himself as an important part of it, but ever since he had been warned to evacuate from the city he had found himself treated as an irrelevance. Furious he turned around and stormed off, followed by his assorted staff.

“Has there been any word?” Jansen then asked Yale and The Mason.

“The attack was an almost total failure.” Yale replied, “It seems that the orks were ready for it and had a mechanised unit on hand. Hal’s dead but most of the Trader’s Association are still alive.”

“A mechanised unit?” Hal commented, “How many vehicles?”

“We’re not sure, our contact didn’t give us an exact number.” Yale told him, “Why?”

“Because I saw a force of ork vehicles trailing us on the way here.” Jansen answered, “Looked like two armoured vehicles plus four or five lighter ones.” Then when he saw the worried look on Yale’s face he added, “Don’t worry, I set one of the stones to deal with them.”

“But they could still be headed here.” Yale reminded him, “One stone can’t-“

“Sir, if they were going to be here then they already would be.” Jansen interrupted, “We were on foot, there’s no way that the orks wouldn’t have overtaken us.”
”Then I suppose we should be glad of small mercies.” Yale said, “But I have to ask you to go back to the ork city.”

“Back?” Jansen said, “Why?”

“Because with Cutter and Hal both dead you are one of the few left that knows how to place the stones.” The Mason said, “And the stone I want you to place is very special.”

“I’ve sent word for some of the bikes to be sent.” Yale said and Jansen immediately knew that the mission must be of vital importance. The rebels had a handful of motorised vehicles left at their disposal and a limited amount of fuel. These were kept carefully hidden in places that the orks would be unlikely to find, typically out of the way places where conditions were unsuited for anyone to live for a long period of time which was why the rebels did not set their camps up at them as well. However, when the occasion demanded it one or more of these vehicles could be summoned to get someone or something important somewhere quickly.

“Now you must listen carefully to my instructions.” The Mason then told Jansen, “The stone must be placed very carefully if it is to function to it’s maximum potential.”

 

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