|
Da Boss Of Da Dead Chapta 3 | |
|
Da Boss Of Da Dead Chapta 3 |
The sound of the explosion drew Krudlord’s warband closer. They were never ones to pass up a good fight and from the sounds of it someone nearby was using some pretty heavy artillery on someone else. Krudlord did not care who it was just so long as there was fun to be had. Fun and loot afterwards. If necessary his warband would fight both sides to make sure that they got what was rightfully theirs. Everything in other words. “Ready lads!” Krudlord shouted over the noise of his buggy’s engine, “Just over dis next ‘ill!” The orks of the warband paid little attention to this. They already knew that battle was near. They could hear it and they could smell it, the distinctive odour of burnt flesh and chemicals that though foul to most species only excited the orks. As befitting the leader of the warband Krudlord was the first to cross the crest of the hill, his buggy leaving the ground and flying in an arc until it came back down with a crash, only the tough ork construction and the sheer willpower of Krudlord and his driver keeping the vehicle together. Almost immediately the driver was forced to swerve to avoid the burning wreck of what had until not long ago been a tracked transport but was now just a pile of burning scrap with the bodies of orks and gretchin littered around it. “Look out lad!” Krudlord shouted, pointing ahead as he saw that the path taken by the driver was now taking them towards another wrecked vehicle. This time the driver chose to brake at the same time as spinning the steering wheel as hard as he could and sending the buggy into a spin that brought it to a sudden halt as it’s side rammed into the wreck. The sound of an impact nearby attracted Krudlord’s attention and he looked around to see a bike landing on the ground and it’s rider struggling to weave a path between the wrecks that littered the area. A loud crash filled the air, followed by the cries of furious ork and injured gretchin. This was followed by another and another as the motorised warband found itself racing into an obstacle course of wrecked and smashed vehicles. “Stop ‘em!” Krudlord shouted to a nearby gretchin. The creature had been thrown clear when the buggy he had ridden on had ploughed into the burning wreck that Krudlord’s driver had only narrowly avoided himself and was getting back to his feet, “Dey’ll all crash!” The gertchin ran back towards the top of the hill, waving it arms as yet another truck appeared and the shouts of excitement from its passengers turned to cries of alarm as the driver struggled to avoid a crash. Krudlord winced as the truck’s path brought its wheels down on top of the gretchin and its mangled remains were sprayed about as they span. “Everyone out!” Krudlord shouted, reaching for the massive hammer he kept to hand for moments such as this and also when the engine would not start properly. All around him, the orks of Krudlord’s warband were leaping from their vehicles, most of which had collided with either one of the wrecks or one of their own. Cursing their bad luck in having to fight on foot, the orks swore revenge on whoever had brought them to this. Only a few of the bikes were able to pick their way between the wrecks. With Krudlord at their head, the warband began to move forwards across the battlefield, searching for anything they could fight with. But all the orks found were corpses and Krudlord noticed that there were precious few of those. Those he saw appeared to be the victims of the destruction of their vehicles. He found no sign of anyone who had died on foot. Then he spotted something and he bent down to pick it up. It was the remains of a ork foot still inside the tough boot it had been clad in. What puzzled Krudlord was how the appendage had come to be separated from it owner. The stump was too straight to be the effect of a projectile or shrapnel and there was no cauterisation to suggest a zap gun. The logical answer was a blade of some kind, but what remained of the bone that Krudlord could see was not splintered at all and what sort of blade could slice off a limb without splintering bone? “Boss!” an nearby ork called out and Krudlord looked up to see one of the bikers had stopped his vehicle and was looking into the distance, “Wot’s dat?” and he pointed into the sky. Krudlord looked higher and saw a trio of dark shapes gradually becoming smaller as they got further away. Krudlord did not exactly what they were, but he knew they were some sort of vehicle and presumably they were responsible for what had happened here. He looked back down at the ground and cast his eyes around until he saw what he was looking for- footprints that did not come from orks or gretchin. These track were as long as a ork’s but narrower and Krudlord followed them. They were joined by other similar track that led away from the wrecked ork vehicles until they reached a point where they simply vanished. Krudlord knew of only one species that fought from transports that floated in the air like death copters. Eldar. “Pansies.” He said to himself, frowning. Then he turned back to his warband, “Well wotcha waitin’ for?” he yelled, “Da fightin’s over and we missed it.“ then as he looked into the disappointed faces of his troops he smiled and added, “But dare’s still lootin’ to be done!” and the orks cheered. When Sophie returned home she spotted a gretchin in the street opposite. Accompanying the gretchin was a bright red bulbous creature that looked like it was little more than a mouth mounted on a pair of legs. The gretchin was tugging at the leash it had the squig on, trying to drag it away from the wall it had found an interesting scent on. “Ratish!” Sophie called out to the gretchin, “If you just call his name he’ll follow you.” “Da name’s stupid.” Ratish shouted back. “I gave him the name.” Sophie replied. “Dat’s why it’s stupid. Gits is all stupid.” “Hazug likes the name.” Sophie pointed out. “Does not!” Ratish snapped, making another effort to pull the squig back towards the house. “Fair enough.” Sophie said, “Have it your own way.” And she walked up the front door and opened it. Then she smiled and instead of going straight inside she turned back around and shouted out, “Cuddles!” The squig spun around and looked at her. “Cuddles come here.” Sophie said and the squig began to bound towards the open doorway, dragged Ratish along behind it. “Stupid git. Ratish ‘ates ya.” Ratish said, snarling at Sophie. Sophie ignored this and instead went into the kitchen where she found Hazug sat at the table cleaning several of his weapons. Right now he was focusing on the large alien blade he had taken from an ancient city on the far side of the planet. He referred to it as a ‘warscythe’. The weapon had an impossibly sharp edge that became even more deadly when powered correctly. Unfortunately the weapon had ceased to function as soon as the alien city had been destroyed by a bomb smuggled inside by Hazug himself. Since then Mek Batrug had been able to rig up a power source using human laser weapon power packs, but this was unreliable and the power would not last for long. “Did you find the breakfast I left for you?” Sophie asked. “Yep.” Hazug replied without looking at her, “Eaten it.” And he waved a bone that had been part of the meal. Then he flicked the activation switch of the warscythe and dropped the bone onto the blade, smiling as the bone was sliced in two without splintering at all. At that moment Cuddles bounded into the kitchen, still dragged his leash behind him. The squig spotted the pieces of bone and rushed towards them, scooping them up with his tongue and chewing on them. Sophie smiled as she watched Cuddles chew and she considered how much less cleaning up there was for her to do now that they had a squig that ate anything even resembling food that was dropped onto the floor. Or least there was now that Cuddles was house trained. For a while there had been a lot more cleaning to be done. Sophie sat opposite Hazug, thinking about how to raise the issue of her sister. If only orks could answer her questions then it seemed reasonable that Hazug was the one to do the asking. “Hazug?” she began. “Wot?” the Blood Axe replied and he looked at Sophie. She was about to ask about her sister when Sophie heard a faint humming. “What’s that noise?” she asked. “Dat’s wotcha wanna ask?” Hazug replied. “No, but what is it?” Hazug paused to listen and he too heard the humming. It seemed to be coming from the warscythe. Hazug’s first assumption was that the blade was still active. Sometimes it would hum, though it was generally louder than this. But a quick look at the power packs confirmed that he had deactivated it after the test with the bone. He leant close to the weapon and moved his head along it, starting at the blade and working his way down. He stopped about half way where the sound seemed to be at its loudest. There was a slight crack in the weapon’s casing here where there was a cover for some of its internal workings and, picking up a table knife Hazug pried open the cover. Sophie leant over to take a look for herself. Inside the warscythe’s grip was a long green crystal that had a pair of wires coming from its tip. These were knotted together in a way that kept them from swinging loose or the bare ends from coming into contact with one another. Slowly Hazug poked the knife blade. “Careful.” Sophie warned, but it was too late. There was a sharp ‘crack’ and a flash of light and Hazug let go of eh knife as a chunk of the blade was blown off. “What happened?” Sophie asked as she blinked to try and clear the pink spots now floating before her eyes. “Dunno.” Hazug admitted, “But I reckons I know an ork wot will.” “Cuddles, stay. Look after me trukk.” Hazug commanded as he climbed down from his vehicle. A trained squig made the best anti-theft system Hazug had yet come across. Certainly better than the huge pile of explosives that the ork he had come to visit use to protect his workshop. The last orks to see his previous one had likely been the crew of one of the orbiting spacecraft. Hazug didn’t bother to knock; instead he just went straight inside the workshop, Ratish and Sophie shoving one another behind him in their efforts to be the next one through the door. “Batrug!” Hazug shouted, “Where is ya?” “Down ‘ere!” a shout came form beneath a bulky machine that looked like a hybrid of a death copter and a trukk and the mekboy slid out from beneath it on a wheeled trolley, “Wotcha want?” he asked. “Da warscythe.” Hazug said, “It’s 'ummin’.” And he held out the alien weapon towards Batrug who took it from him and gave it a quick look over. Batrug inhaled sharply. “Its gonna cost ya.” He said and he looked up see Hazug frowning, “Oops.” Batrug added, “Force of ‘abit.” And he carried the warscythe to a nearby workbench where he swept it clear and set it down. Opening the cover he looked at the crystal inside and said, “Yeah, I see wot’s ‘appened.” And he began to fiddle with the wires. “Watch out Batrug.” Sophie warned, “Hazug did that and there was a-“ this time Sophie was able to look away as there was another brilliant flash of light and Batrug leapt backwards, shaking the hand he had been using to probe the warscythe. “I was just testin’ somethin’ dare.” The mekboy said as he wandered to where there was a pair of heavy-duty gloves hanging from the wall before returning to the warscythe, “Dis’ll just take a mo.” He said as he got back to work. “Yeah, I reckoned so.” He said and he waved Hazug closer. “So wot is it?” Hazug asked, “Is it bust?” “Nah.” Batrug replied, “Anythin’ but. Da original power source ‘as stared workin’ again. It must ‘ave just needed a good ‘it or somethin’. Though I did try dat da first time ya brought it in. I guess its wot we in da trade calls an ‘intermittent problem.’” Then he spotted Hazug frowning at him and remembered how much the larger ork disliked overly technical explanations, “Means dat it’s only broke some of da time.” Batrug said and Hazug stopped frowning. “So wotcha gonna do?” Hazug asked. “Simple,” Batrug replied, “I is gonna reconnect da original source. Dat way ya can run dis ‘ere super choppa all da time. Only be careful. Da blade’s bleedin’ sharp.” “Yeah Batrug, I knows dat. So ‘ow much?” Batrug looked down at the warscythe. “I don’t need no parts.” He said, “So call it a tooth. Of course if ya’d rather be shut of it, seein’ ‘ow it may break down again I’d give ya six for it.” Hazug snorted, knowing that if Batrug was offering him six teeth for the warscythe it had to be worth at least sixty. “Just fix it.” Hazug said as he reached for his money pouch and Batrug turned back to the warscythe to reconnect the necron power source. A light on the control column pulsed and the cryptek Nalloshtek whirled around to look at it. “Tumanatan!” he called out to the other cryptek in the chamber, “Come and see this.” The second cryptek approached and joined Nalloshtek in looking at the display. “How is this possible?” he asked. “I do not know. But it is certain. The krork are in possession of some of our technology.” |
|
Copyright Notice The Warhammer 40,000 universe is the intellectual property of Games Workshop Ltd. The fiction presented here is a derived work. It is completely unofficial and Games Workshop Ltd has not endorsed any of it. |
Background image miniature design copyright Games Workshop Ltd
This Web Page Created with PageBreeze Free HTML Editor