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Da Boss Of Da Dead Chapta 2 | |
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Da Boss Of Da Dead Chapta 2 |
Orks cheered as the blow was landed, forcing one of the combatants to his knees and letting the other bring his knee up sharply under his chin and finish off the fight. Immediately many cheering orks held out their hands for the settlement of wagers while others reluctantly handed over the teeth they owed. Here and there orks unable to pay were held down while payment was quite literally extracted. Gorgoga looked around. “You!” he shouted, pointing to an ork at the front of the crowd, “Get ‘ere now!” and the ork advanced, grinning at the thought of being the next to take part in a fight. Then Gorgoga looked around again, searching for an opponent that looked suitably entertaining. His eyes spotted an ork that was new to the mining camp and so far had proven to be nothing but a nuisance. He was nowhere near strong enough to take on the ork already chosen for the next bought, but the site of the youth getting a good beating would be entertainment enough. Gorgoga was about to point at the ork when a sound caught his attention, a buzzing from the mine entrance that grew steadily louder. “Wot da bleedin’ ‘ell is dat?” he demanded, getting up and looking around. He saw a pair of orks advance towards the dark hole that was the way down into the mine, each one brandishing a burning torch in one hand and a weapon in the other. Suddenly the buzzing sound was joined by the high-pitched scream of a gretchin that was afraid and sure enough one of the orks’ shorter cousin species ran from the mine. “Bugs!” he
yelled and the two orks looked at one another and laughed. The orks reacted in the only way they knew how. They picked up what weapons they had to hand and charged forwards. “Waaagh!” Gorgoga bellowed as he struck the activation button to his power claw and scooped up his shield, “Get ‘em lads! Squish ‘em all!” The insect cloud spread out as it closed with the counter attacking orks, seeking to envelop as many as possible. The gunfire that erupted from the ork line before the two opposing groups reached one another could not fail to hit something, even considering the generally poor marksmanship of the orks. But for each of the insect machines shot out of the sky it seemed that there were two more to take its place in the cloud. There were shrieks. Not from the orks, but from the flamethrowers that several of them carried and sheets of fire billowed into the insect swarm and incinerated many, creating gaps that could be filled by the others instantly. Then the orks and insects crashed into one another. The insects were fast moving and nimble, but their metal shells offered little protection from the blows that orks were capable of delivering and their numbers began to thin out rapidly. Here and there a particularly dense cluster would overwhelm an ork and he would die like the two near the mineshaft, the flesh ripped from his body by the swarm. Where they could, the insects sought out the flamethrower equipped orks, attacking not the orks themselves but instead the tanks of volatile liquid and gas mounted on their backs. A dull ‘crump’ indicated that the insects had successfully pierced an ork’s fuel tank and a ball of fire engulfed those nearby, both ork and insect alike. Covered in burning liquid, several orks ran about with their arms flailing as they screamed in pain before collapsing. Seeing what had happened to their comrade, the remaining orks armed with flamethrowers began to pull back. Higher pitched shouts of excitement were added to the noise of battle as the camp’s runtherds drove their gretchin into the battle also. Gorgoga himself was having a harder time attacking the swarm. His powerclaw was a mighty weapon, able to tear open the thickest of armour with a single blow. But against such small targets he found it too slow to use effectively and he instead began to swat at the insects with his shield, knocking as many as he could to the ground before stomping on them with a heavy boot. He felt an insect land on his shoulder and tried to reach it, but the combination of his powerclaw and shield prevented it. He was on the verge of dropping his shield when he felt something else; a gretchin scampered up his leg and back and took hold of the insect, pulling it away from Gorgoga. Then the gretchin jumped back down to the ground and began to pull it apart with glee. “Nice one grot.” Gorgoga said and he looked around for something else to squash. The swarm was looking greatly reduced now and Gorgoga could see orks shoving one another out of the way to reach a target. More of the metal insects seemed to be falling to the more agile gretchin now, the smaller greenskins being able to squeeze between their larger cousins to reach the insects. There was cheering amongst the orks, with the smashed fragments of metal insects being waved in the air by the victorious orks even as the last few were finished off. But above the cheering Gorgoga heard another sound growing progressively louder. As a member of the goff clan, Gorgoga had heard sounds like this before when he had spent time near the area where stormboys trained. Unlike other orks stormboys were in the habit of forming up into straight lines and marching up and down in time with one another and that was what Gorgoga could hear now. The rhythmic pounding of feet marching in time. “Get ready lads!” he bellowed as he turned to face the mine entrance, holding his shield up in front of him, “Dare’s somethin’ else comin’ at us.” The greenskins turned towards the mine entrance and ready themselves to do battle once more. The pounding continued and as Gorgoga watched a metal figure stepped from the blackness. Almost as tall as Gorgoga but skeletal in appearance, the figure held a staff in one hand tipped with a crystal that glowed with the same green light as its eyes. Behind this figure row after row of smaller versions followed, each of these closer in size to normal orks instead of a nob like Gorgoga and possessing the same glowing eyes. In their hands each of these figures held a rifle that they kept pointing downwards for now. The lead figure halted and looked directly at Gorgoga as his troops marched past him on either side. Then he raised his staff above his head and let out a ghostly wail. Gorgoga responded in kind, taking a deep breath before yelling as loud as he could. “Waaagh!” Once again the orks rushed forwards towards their foe. In response Izzatek brought down his staff, slamming its end into the ground. Immediately the necron warriors stopped marching and raised their rifles towards the orks. Gorgoga expected them to open fire, but was unprepared for the effect. The necrons were not armed with projectile weapons like those carried by orks and instead of the clattering of automatic weapons fire there was only the crackling of energy discharges accompanied by the smell of ozone. The green lightning bolts that shot from the muzzles of the alien weapons leapt towards the orks and where they hit the orks their flesh was melted away to nothing. Many orks fell immediately, either killed outright or clutching at the holes blasted in them and crying out in pain. The orks returned fire immediately, volley after volley of bullets tearing into the necrons. But unlike the basic armour worn by most of the orks the ancient metal bodies of the necrons provided excellent protection and sparks flew as bullets bounced off. Occasionally a lucky round found a weak spot and penetrated the necrons’ armour, but although a handful of necrons fell to the ground another stepped forwards to fill the gap in the line and worse yet as Gorgoga watched the downed necrons the damage inflicted on them seemed to heal itself and they simply stood back up and took their place in the ranks once more. Gorgoga raised his shield to protect himself as he saw a necron aim its weapon towards him. There was the crackle of a shot and he felt the shield warming up. Then something more shocking happened. Before his eyes, his shield began to dissolve. Diving out of the way, Gorgoga got clear before the shield was completely gone and the energy beam could reach his flesh. The move brought him close to the front rank of necrons and even as one of the aliens lowered his rifle to point at Gorgoga’s head the goff swung his powerclaw clad hand upwards and slammed it into it’s midriff. There was a flash as the energy field that surrounded the powerclaw discharged through the necron’s metal body. Inside the powerclaw, Gorgoga clenched his fist, causing the massive pincers mounted on the weapon to clamp shut and tear open the necron. The alien collapsed where he stood, breaking in half as it fell. Unlike the warriors felled by gunfire, this one did not subsequently get back up. Instead it simply faded away to nothing. “Dey can die lads!” Gorgoga yelled, “Get stuck in!” Ignoring their losses the orks continued their headlong rush towards the necrons. The crude axes, knives and clubs carried by most of them were of no more use than their guns had been, but while fighting hand to hand the necrons were at least unable to shoot at the orks and were instead forced to use the butts of their rifles as improved clubs. Izzatek was not so disadvantaged however. He extended his staff out in front of him and pulses of light erupted from its head, each pulse blasting into the orks yet to reach the necron line. Then he ran at the orks and swung his staff, his incredible strength allowing him smash ork bones as if they were glass. The flamethrower-equipped orks adjusted their weapons. With both orks and necrons mixed in amongst one another the risk to their own side in using their weapons was apparent even to them. But by modifying the nozzles they turned them from weapons that spread flames over a wide area to what amounted to a heavy-duty blowtorch. With their torches held in front of them, the ork burna boys set about dismantling the necron warriors. Izzatek whirled around to face the burna boys and raised his staff. Once again he let loose a burst of brilliant energy pulses, aimed not at the orks themselves but instead at the tanks on their backs. The effect was devastating; one after another the burna boys became living torches. Worse yet the flames spilled out and spread all around them, driving back the orks. A handful of necron warriors closest to the epicentre of the flames fell, their systems overcome by the extreme temperature but the orks suffered far worse. In the tightly packed crowd of combatants flames spread from ork to ork as those on fire sought to try and escape but succeeded only in running into their fellows and spreading the flames to them. Separated from his troops, Gorgoga slammed his powerclaw into another necron warrior and watched it dissolve before his eyes before making a break for it. He ran just far enough to reach a gully that he dived into, pausing to be sure that no necron was about to try and club him to death before turning back around to see what was going on. He did not like what he saw. By falling back the orks had opened up enough room for the necrons to begin firing again and more and more orks were being reduced to nothing by the strange alien rifles. Meanwhile their leader continued to fire blasts from his staff towards anywhere that a group of orks gathered in an effort to make a stand. The neat necron formation was beginning to break up now as the warriors started to spread out and hunt down those greenskins they had not already slaughtered. Gorgoga heard isolated bursts of gunfire followed by the crackling of alien rifles from all around him. There were explosions too. Occasionally from an ork attempting to use a grenade to drive off his attackers but mainly from the vehicles that seemed to be just as vulnerable to the necron weapons as the orks themselves exploding. Gorgoga looked around, searching for a way out. At the end of the gully he saw it. A hole, barely big enough to fit him was there and he knew that this was one of the entrances to the network of gretchin tunnels that ran under the settlement. Every now and again they would connect with the tunnels of the mine itself. But right now Gorgoga had no interest in that. He did not want to go down into the mine from where the necrons had emerged. He was going to use the tunnels to get under the settlement’s thick perimeter wall and into the wilderness beyond. He discarded his shield; it was too bulky to fit into the tunnel and scrabbled along the gully until he reached the tunnel entrance. Then he forced his body through the hole, disappearing from view just before a trio of necron warriors appeared and looked down into the gully, their rifles ready to fire at anyone they found hiding there. Izzatek knelt before Mazakatek. “Speak.” The overlord said, staring at the kneeling figure from his throne. “The krork are dealt with master.” Izzatek replied. “None escaped?” “None master.” “Excellent.” Mazakatek said and he looked towards the cryptek Ibon who stood beside him, “How soon before we can proceed?” he asked. “Our vehicles have been restored to full function my lord.” Ibon informed him, “We need only wait for the tomb stalkers to clear a way to the surface for them. What are your wishes for when this has been achieved?” “We need information about the krork.” Mazakatek said, “Bring me Lord Kastotek.” It did not take long for Lord Kastotek to appear before Mazakatek, but he did not kneel before the overlord. It had been many millions of years since he had cast aside his flesh body and been given one without knees at all. The more humanoid portion of Lord Kastotek’s form ended at the waist, with everything below having been replaced by an advanced anti-gravity propulsion system. In the days before Mazakatek’s tomb had been sealed the destroyer lord had laid a thousand eldar skulls before the overlord in tribute, each one sliced vertically in two by his warscythe. Some said he had cast many more aside because the cut was not neat enough to be worth offering to the overlord. Mazakatek did not entirely trust Kastotek, a common attitude of overlords and phaerons given the cold ruthlessness destroyer lords possessed even amongst their own kind. The lack of deference shown caused Mazakatek’s guards to adjust their stance, ready to strike down Kastotek should it be due to more than what passed for his physiology. “Master.” Kastotek spoke, the word echoing due to some quirk in his speech systems and the destroyer lord bowed his head. The sun was just beginning to appear over the city Warboss Kazkal Kromag had made his capital as Sophie left home. Though a human she had spent most of her life amongst the orks in service to them. Early morning was actually the worst time for her to be in the streets alone. At this hour most of the creatures she would encounter would be gretchin. Thanks to a deal struck with the help of her master Hazug, Warboss Kromag had issued an edict forbidding orks to attack humans without good reason. But despite this edict and the brightly coloured jacket she wore that proclaimed her to be the property of Hazug Throatslitter gretchin were still just as likely to attack her as ever. Fortunately for Sophie her destination this morning was located in the part of the city where most of the humans dwelt, known to the orks as Git Town and gretchin rarely dared venture into Git Town, they were too afraid of the large numbers of humans living there. Hazug’s house was located very close to Git Town, the primary reason why Hazug had taken the building when offered it by Kazkal was the lack of other takers so she had only a short distance to walk before she could consider herself safe from attack. However, not wishing to take any unnecessary risks and with neither the threat of retaliation from Hazug or the warboss being a sufficient deterrent, Sophie instead put her faith in the compact automatic pistol she carried hidden in her bag. Reaching Git Town unmolested, Sophie then headed for the building used by what passed for a police force amongst the humans and went inside. “Is he here?” she asked the man on the front desk. “Yeah and he’s expecting you.” The constable replied, “Go right on in.” and he nodded towards a door. Sophie headed to the door and knocked twice before going through. On the other side of the door was a tiny office behind which a middle aged man sat. As Sophie entered he looked up at her. “Hi Sophie.” He said, “Take a seat.” Sophie smiled as she sat down. “Chief Thayne,” she said, “have you found anything yet?” Chief Constable Dariel Thayne inhaled deeply and leant back in his chair. Then he reached into a drawer and removed an aging file that he passed across the desk to Sophie. “That’s it I’m afraid.” He said. Sophie opened the file and looked at the single sheet of paper it contained. “But there must be more.” Sophie said, clearly distressed, “The Death Skulls-“ “There are a
lot of orks of the Death Skulls clan on the planet Sophie.” Dariel
interrupted, “And they don’t exactly keep accurate census records of their
human servants. I spoke to half a dozen humans who used to work for them
before leaving for one reason or another and none of them knew anything
about you or this other girl.” Then Dariel leant forwards, resting his
elbows on his desk, “Look,” he added, “you need to accept the possibility
that she’s dead.” “Maybe not,” Dariel replied, “but you know how the orks can be. Not everyone who works for them is as lucky as you are with Hazug. She only needs to piss them off once and – well you know what they’re capable of doing to her. We’ve all seen it, they can be almost as vicious as Venris was.” He then added, referring to the planetary ruler at the time of the ork invasion, the Imperial governor who had in fact been in the service of darker powers. Sophie nodded. Beyond the city Warboss Kromag’s edict was not always enforced. “What can you suggest?” she asked, “I have to know if my sister’s alive.” “I can’t help you.” Dariel said, “The only ones who can provide the information you’re looking for are orks themselves. They wouldn’t answer questions from me even if I could speak their language.” “Thank you Chief Thayne.” Sophie said, getting to her feet, “If you do discover anything, please let me know.” And she left the room. Five necrons with bodies similar to his own followed behind Kastotek as they flew high above the ground. The crypteks had been quick to notice that the orks lacked a comprehensive air defence system, with radar coverage limited to only a handful of areas. As Kastotek flew he saw not only the terrain in front of him, but also the data being fed from the palace’s systems. The link was bi-directional, so just as he was made aware of everything the palace knew he was transmitting everything he saw back to the crypteks. Below Kastotek spotted a plume of dust indicative of motorised transport. He adjusted his vision, shifting into the infrared region of the spectrum and saw the heat of the engines. There were multiple vehicles below, all headed in the same direction. But there was something else. Smaller flares of heat suggested gunfire and Kastotek realised that he was looking at a battle. Izzatek had indicated that the orks were a species prone to infighting and this seemed to be the proof. Kastotek ran a quick calculation. There was only a small number of orks below and his destroyers would have little difficulty in subduing them, especially if fighting one another distracted them. The infighting was unlikely to last much beyond first contact with the necrons however, but Kastotek was certain that his force would still have the advantage. However, Kastotek was under no obligation to engage the orks and if the necrons left them alone the orks would likely continue to kill one another. Efficiency alone dictated that Kastotek lead his unit further on in search of bigger prey. The course taken by the destroyers was taking them towards what appeared to the necrons to be the largest settlement on the planet, one of the few regions that possessed a crude radar system. Followed by the other destroyers Kastotek descended, aiming to slip below the ork radar. Reducing altitude brought with it the risk that the orks would become aware of the necrons’ presence simply by looking up as they flew overhead, but by skirting around the city at high speed rather than flying straight over it brought the chance of this happening down to an acceptable level of risk within the parameters laid down for the mission. Emissions from the ork city were just as predicted. Heat from furnaces and combustion engines came from hundreds, if not thousands of distinct points and as with the earlier encounter there were sporadic heat flares from projectile weapons being discharged. But a large section of the city appeared blank to thermal imaging, an area separated from the rest by a wide river and as Kastotek closed in he observed that the buildings were in a poor state of repair. Clearly this place had been abandoned for some time. This offered Kastotek an opportunity. “Follow me in.” he said to the destroyers, “We will descend to ground level and conceal ourselves in the deserted buildings.” The destroyers sent no acknowledgement of the order, but they followed it. Kastotek knew that they would be seeing what he was – an entire city full of life to be exterminated and Kastotek himself was tempted to ignore the orders of Mazakatek and attack the orks now. On this occasion however, Kastotek would exercise restraint. Though the orks were primitive in comparison, they had a strength of numbers that the destroyers could not hope to overcome on their own. For now they would simply observe. Kastotek selected a building located on the riverbank. Whatever its purpose had once been it was now nothing more than a hollow shell that offered a view of most of the ork city. “This place does not resemble the other krork buildings.” One of the destroyers observed. “The krork buildings show little consistency in their construction.” Another replied. “Indeed,” the first said, “but all of the buildings on this side of the river show signs of following a pattern. Is it possible there are more than the krork here?” Kastotek did not involve himself with the debate; instead he just scanned the riverbank opposite. Along much of the length occupied by the ork city he saw greenskins of assorted sizes at work, but there was a point at which there were no more greenskins and instead much slimmer humanoids could be seen. At first they resembled eldar to Kastotek, but with simple magnification of the image indicated that they were something else. They were of thicker build than eldar and their ears lacked the delicate point of that species. This was something new to the necrons and Kastotek tagged the image as he sent it back to the palace. Then he cast his vision further a field. The initial thermal readings suggested that no single location could be said to be the hub of industry in the city, but continuing with it Kastotek noticed a great del of energy output clustered around two structures that on a visual scan Kastotek had taken them to be massive, if primitive idols. They had the appearance of giant orks assembled from a crude patchwork of metal plates. Exposed sections of the internal working proved to Kastotek that these were no mere idols however, if the orks could finish these off they would be fully mobile and from the looks of the weapons emplacements he could make out they would be very well armed. Sufficiently well armed to wipe out every necron in the palace if given the opportunity. Kastotek’s urge was to kill – to take his squad and swoop down upon the orks constructing these mighty war machines and slaughter them all, tearing apart their work in the process. But one glimpse at the surrounding part of the ork city told that such a course of action would be fruitless. For every weapon being mounted on these machines there was another emplaced around their base to protect them while they were still vulnerable. No. The task of destroying the monstrosities would have to fall to another. Had Kastotek retained his flesh face as the overlord had done his expression would have been one of frustration and rage. Rotating on the spot he faced the other destroyers. “We are done.” He said, “There is nothing for us to kill here.” |
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