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Da Cybork Menace Chapta 15 | |
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Chapta 15 |
“Stoggi? Stoggi can ya ‘ear me?” Dok Gutstitch asked as he finished the surgery and set the staple gun aside. “Uhhh,” came the reply. It had a deeper tone to it than was normal for a gretchin. “Try movin’ ya arm grot.” Stoggi murmured something unintelligible in the same voice, and with a whirring of gears a massive arm ending a vicious looking pair of pincers was raised into the air. “Dats it grot, now try takin’ a step,” Dok Gutstitch said and, newly encased in his own armoured walking machine, Stoggi the dreadnought pilot took a step forwards. Dok Gutstitch smiled as he saw the result of his work. Stoggi was just the last of the greenskins that he had implanted into the armoured fighting machines that the late Mek Morgob had constructed. Stoggi was the only gretchin that he had implanted, and given that the other servants that Dok Gutstitch had witnessed the process of implantation, he doubted that any of them would volunteer to be next. Still, Dok Gutstitch thought, the dreadnoughts built for gretchin were smaller and far less powerful than those built for ork pilots, and Dok Gutstitch had fitted more than twenty of his squig brained orks into these larger fighting machines. As he admired his day’s work, Dok Gutstitch felt a tug on his apron. “Master! Master!” the gretchin servant shouted,” Come quick and look at this!” Dok Gutstitch followed his servant to the front of the workshop, where the gretchin pointed out of a narrow window to where orks were disembarking form battlewagons. “Look master!” he exclaimed, “Dat’s da nob we’ve been seein’ all over da place!” he added, his finger pointed directly at Hazug. Dok Gutstitch drew himself up to his full height. “Grab wot weapons ya can, we got company,” he ordered, “I’m goin’ to get a surprise ready for ‘em.” “We’ll need some lads around the back,” Hazug told Two Heads and Maggort as the three nobs stood between the two battlewagons while their troops disembarked, “jut in case dare’s a way dat ‘e can make run for it dat way.” Maggort nodded and waved over some of his orks. “Go wait round da back,” he ordered, “start shootin’ if anyone tries makin’ a run for it dat way,” and the orks dashed away. Meanwhile Hazug returned to his truck to give his instructions to its occupants “Now listen carefully grot,” he said to Ratish, “I is goin’ over dare with da lads to get a closer look. If I waves at ya den it means dat ‘e’s in dare. If dat ‘appens den I wants ya to leg it back to Kromag and let ‘im know to get ‘ere as quick as ‘e can. Understand?” “Yes master, Ratish understand,” the gretchin replied, nodding his head up and down eagerly. “Good, now Drazzok I wants ya to stay put behind da trukk with Sophie and Rhia, I don’t want to tip Gutstitch off if ‘e’s in dare, and ‘e may figure it out if ya start makin’ stuff float by accident. Now if any shootin’ does start, den ya all feel free to take part, but only Drazzok is to come closer dan dis. Ya all got dat?” Drazzok and the two humans indicated that they understood and got out of the truck, then Hazug made his way back to the other two nobs. “Right,” he said to them confidently, “let’s get closer. But keep it quiet, right?” The orks began to walk across the street en masse, with Hazug at the front of the group, but as they approached the workshop with the tracked vehicle parked outside, the wooden doors to the workshop exploded outwards. “Kan!” Hazug yelled as the massive metal walking machine strode through the wrecked doorway, two pincer tipped arms waving in the air as it advanced. The assembled orks opened fire and the roar of gunfire filled the air. With a volume of fire so great, and such a prominent target, even the poor marksmanship common to the ork species could not prevent the dreadnought being hit repeatedly. Sparks flew as the bullets struck the thick armoured shell of the dreadnought and promptly bounced off harmlessly. The cacophony of small arms fire was then joined by the deeper sound of the machine guns mounted on the battlewagons, but this too was ineffectual against the armour of the dreadnought. There was more gunfire, but this time it came from the dreadnought itself. The two heavy machine guns mounted in addition to its claws raked fire through the assembled orks, and even the heavier armour plates that Maggort’s orks wore were not enough to protect them. As orks fell to the ground, both dead and seriously injured Hazug raised his rifle and reached for its secondary trigger. There was a flash as the rocket motor ignited, and the armour-piercing projectile flew towards the dreadnought. Hazug’s aim was good, and the rocket hit the dreadnought at one of its shoulders. Unfortunately the detonation that Hazug expected did not occur, the rocket was a dud and it instead lodged itself in the joint connecting one of the dreadnoughts clawed arms to its body. The rocket motor continued to burn, however, and a jet of flame poured from the rear of the projectile for a few seconds until its fuel was exhausted. “Get back!” Hazug yelled. “Ya ‘eard ‘im!” both of Two Heads added, “Get behind da wagons!” The remaining orks fell back across the street, with the dreadnought advancing steadily behind them. Suddenly Two Heads halted, “Down!” he yelled as he saw the main turret on his battlewagon turning to face the dreadnought behind him. The orks dived to the ground as there was a massive boom and a flash from the turret mounted cannon as it fired a heavy shell at the dreadnought, followed by a crash as it tore off the arm that still had Hazug’s rocket lodged at its shoulder. The dreadnought span around under the impact as its limb was torn free and the rocket fell to the ground. Recovering quickly, the dreadnought turned to face the orks once more. But as it put its foot forwards it stood on the faulty rocket. The weight of the dreadnought crushed the projectile against the frozen dirt of the road beneath it, and the excessive pressure finally triggered its detonator. The dreadnought rocked as the rocket detonated beneath its foot, and the shrapnel from the explosion cut into the hoses and cables that allowed it to retain control of its leg. The limb collapsed suddenly, and the machine toppled over and fell to the ground. “It’s down!” Maggort shouted, “Get it!” Maggort and his remaining uninjured orks in the street began to get back up. “No! Wait!” Hazug shouted, but it was too late. The damaged dreadnought opened fire once more, and only the limited arc of fire it had available while lying prone prevented it from cutting down them all. Maggort himself took a hit to his leg, and he dropped his rifle and fell clutching at the bleeding limb. Behind Hazug’s truck, Sophie observed the battle by peering underneath the vehicle. Rhia took a quick look around the truck for herself. “It going to kill us all!” she shouted in Gothic. “Nop its not!” Sophie shouted back at her, also in Gothic, ” Hazug will think of something. He always does.” “Well it looks like his luck’s run out,” Rhia added. Then she saw Drazzok, “What’s happening to him?” she asked, pointing at the weirdboy. Sophie turned to look at Drazzok herself. The weirdboy was sat with his back against the truck, gripping his staff tightly as his whole body shook. Sophie had seen the glow in his eyes before. “Get him up!” she yelled, and she tried to drag the ork to his feet. “Help me!” she shouted at Rhia as he proved too heavy for her to lift on her own. Rhia put down her gun and assisted Sophie in lifting Drazzok to his feet. “Now turn him around and get him away from the truck,” Sophie said. “What are we doing?” Rhia asked as the two young women positioned the weirdboy between them. “Just watch,” Sophie answered when Drazzok was clear of the metal of the truck’s chassis and facing the flailing dreadnought, and then she pulled the weirdboy’s staff away from him. “Keep hold of him!” Sophie shouted as Drazzok’s shaking grew stronger and the light from his eyes brighter. Rhia almost let go of Drazzok as he opened his mouth and screamed. With the scream came a blast of light from his mouth that flew towards the dreadnought lying in the street. The beam of channelled psychic energy struck the machine just below the slit provided for the pilot to see out, and its metal shell glowed as it heated up rapidly. The energy spread across the dreadnought’s surface until it reached the ammunition for its machine guns. The propellant for all of the remaining bullets exploded at once, ripping apart the weapons, but the dreadnought continued to flail about helpless as the psychic attack persisted. The body of the dreadnought continued to heat up, and inside even the pilot with his implanted squig brain was quite literally feeling the heat. He squirmed with the narrow confines of the dreadnought, pulling the wires that joined him to his machine’s systems loose as he did. The dreadnought stopped its flailing as the pilot lost the ability to control it and its remaining limbs fell limply beside it. This was when the armour of the dreadnought’s body finally gave way, and the beam of energy burnt the flesh of its pilot away to nothing before finally halting. “Woah,” Rhia said in amazement, staring at the damage inflicted by the psychic blast “It’s what happens when orks get excited near him,” Sophie explained as Drazzok slumped limply in hers and Rhia’s arms, “he collects his power from them, and unless he can drain it away with his staff, or anything else metal, he either explodes, or it comes shooting out of him like that.” As the orks began to pick themselves up now the dreadnought had been destroyed Ratish leapt out from behind the truck and ran to Hazug. “Ya didn’t wave master, do ya still want Ratish to go tell da warboss?” he said. Hazug just frowned and gave his gretchin servant a good hard slap. Inside the workshop, Dok Gutstitch had witnessed the destruction of the dreadnought. He had expected it to be destroyed; though he was surprised that it’s demise had occurred so quickly. The presence of a weirdboy was something he hadn’t counted on. Turning around he walked quickly back into the workshop to where some of his gretchin servants were digging into the floor with an assortment of improvised digging tools. “How close are you now?” he demanded. “Nearly dare master,” one of the gretchin replied just as there was the sound of earth and stones falling, “Dat’s it!” the gretchin exclaimed, “We ‘as broken into da tunnel,” and as Dok Gutstitch peered into the hole his servants had dug he saw the gretchin tunnel that ran beneath it. “Right, everyone into da ‘ole,” Dok Gutstitch ordered. “But wot about da kans master?” another gretchin asked, “Dey won’t fit.” “Dey don’t ‘ave to, I’ll take care of da kans while ya all just garb wotever ammo and bioniks ya can and get in da ‘ole.” While his servants disappeared into the tunnel below, Dok Gutstitch stood in front of the small dreadnought that held Stoggi. “Stoggi, I got a job for ya. Ya understand?” he said, looking into the vision slit. The dreadnought bowed forwards slightly. “Yes master,” came the reply. “Good, now I wants ya to lead all dese other kans to our camp. Right?” “Yes master.” “Dat’s me lad,” Dok Gutstitch said with a grin, then he spoke to the remaining dreadnoughts with their squig-brained crew, “Follow da grot in da killa-kan,” he said slowly and clearly, “and keep ‘im safe. ‘E’s goin’ to take ya back to me camp. Understand?” There was a mass of whirring and clunking sounds as, in unison, the dreadnoughts all bowed to signal their understanding. “Good,” Dok Gutstitch said, and then he turned back to Stoggi,” Now get goin’ grot,” he said, and he slapped the side of Stoggi’s dreadnought and headed back to the hole. Outside, the orks were picking themselves up. The sound of the battle had attracted the attention of most of the nearby meks, and a crowd was starting to form around them. Then, from inside the gloom of the workshop from which the dreadnought had just burst, there came a steady ‘clump’, ‘clump’, ‘clump’. “Kan!” one of Two Heads’ orks shouted. “Get back behind da wagons!” Hazug shouted, and the remaining orks from Two Heads and Maggort’s mobs quickly fell back into cover. Then, Stoggi emerged from the workshop in his miniature dreadnought. “Aha ha ha!” an ork in the crowd laughed out loud, pointing at Stoggi, “Look! Dey is afraid of a grot killa-kan!” The laughter spread through the crowd, and some of the orks behind the battlewagons began to make their way out of cover. Right as the wall of the workshop was smashed apart from the inside. The massive machine that strode out of the cloud of dust was far larger than the dreadnought that Drazzok’s psychic blast had destroyed. Unlike that machine, this one possessed only two arms rather than four. One tipped with an enormous claw, the other sporting a huge cannon. A pair of missile launchers mounted at its waist completed the formidable weapons load out of the machine. “Mega-kan!” a voice in the crowd yelled moments before the machine’s cannon boomed and sent an explosive shell into it. The force of the blast sent orks and gretchin alike flying, and the remaining crowd scattered before it could fire again. After the sound of the explosion, there was a steady clatter as the orks opened fire from behind the battlewagons that sheltered them. The mega-dreadnought ignored this; its armour was thick enough that the orks may as well have been throwing fistfuls of sands as shooting at it with their rifles. It took a step forwards, emerging fully from the dust cloud that was all that was left of the wall it had demolished in its exit from the workshop, and as it did a trio of dreadnoughts emerged beside it, followed moments later by a second massive mega-dreadnought. “Ah crap!” Hazug exclaimed as he saw the dreadnoughts pouring out of the workshop, both through the ruined door and the hole in the wall. “Get another shell in da kannon!” Two Heads both ordered, yelling the command through the opening of the rear access ramp to his battlewagon. The vehicle’s turret turned as the gunner took aim at the first of the meg-dreadnoughts to have emerged. There followed a flash and a boom as he fired a shell at the massive target. The orks let out a cheer as the shell struck the machine centrally and detonated on impact. But the celebration was cut short as the explosion cleared and revealed that the mega-dreadnoughts formidable armour plating had resisted the attack. Only a patch of missing paint and a dent served to indicate that it had been hit at all. Almost as one the emerging dreadnoughts opened fire. A hail of bullets, missiles and jets of flame shot from their arm mount weapons towards the battlewagons, and the orks ducked behind their vehicles for cover. “Fire again!” Two Heads yelled. “It’s stuck!” his gunner replied as he tried to clear the casing from his previous shot out of the orks’ heaviest available gun. The dreadnoughts advanced closer to the battlewagons, and the first mega-dreadnought fired its main gun once more. The powerful shell struck the ground beneath Maggort’s battlewagon, and the orks using it for cover tried jumping aside as the heavy vehicle was flipped over. Slowed by their injuries, some of the orks, including Maggort himself, were not quick enough, and they died crushed under the wreck of their own transport. Suddenly there was a blast of energy from further down the street, and Hazug saw that some of the crowd that had fled was now returning, and they were armed. Many of the orks that had made up the crowd were, of course, meks from the neighbouring workshops, and when they had fled from the mega-dreadnought they had done so just that they could fetch their most powerful weapons top use against it. Now they were planning to get their own back. There was another bright beam of light as the mek fired his custom energy weapon again. “'Ow d’ya like dat den?” the mek shouted as he missed for a second time. The mek then activated his weapon again to fire a third blast, and he died as the weapon’s coolant system malfunctioned and he was swiftly incinerated by his own weapon. Inside his own dreadnought, Stoggi was laughing at the destruction being wrought, and he watched with glee as a rocket fired by the mega-dreadnought smashed into one of the battlewagons and blew off a track. But while it was amusing to watch the orks facing him dying, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before they could bring in heavier weapons or expert tank hunters and destroy all of the dreadnoughts, and his master wanted the fighting machines to be taken back to his camp. “Follow me!” me shouted, and he began to walk down the street. The sound of his command was drowned out entirely by the battle raging around him, and it was only when the dreadnoughts nearest to Stoggi noticed that the gretchin was moving that the larger ork piloted machines began to follow him. |
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