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Waaargh! Hazug! Chapta 14 | |
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Waaargh! Hazug! Chapta 14 |
The
rumble of machinery around the mine was different from what it had been
just a few days earlier. Then the sounds had come from the machines used
to bring ore up from underground and then process it into something
useful. Now however the digging machines had been brought up to the
surface and were being used to move vast quantities of dirt and rubble to
reinforce the camp’s perimeter wall. The wall was not so undermanned now
with the addition of the orks infected by the genestealer taint and
Graffgan grinned as he saw this. “Yeah,
it’ll ‘old.” He said as he sensed the question regarding the wall’s
strength in his head and he turned to see one of the purestrain
genestealers looking right at him, “Best to just put da ordinary lads on
da wall though.” He added, “Just in case anyone gets close enough to get a
good look. The
alien turned its bulbous head, looking towards the mine entrance
itself. “Dat’s
wot da lads from round ‘ere says.” Graffgan said, “It goes real deep down
and dares smaller grot tunnels wot lead out all over da
place.” This
seemed to displease the genestealer. “Don’t
worry about dat.” Graffgan said in response to this, “Da runts is fillin’
in all da tunnels wot lead under da wall. Dare aint no one getting’ in
‘ere without us knowin’ about it.” “Go
find Two Heads.” Hazug told Ratish as they clambered out of the
battlewagon, “I’ll be with dat Rell and ‘is lads.” “Yes
master, Ratish send ‘im to gits.” Ratish replied and he ran off in search
of the other nob. Inquisitor
Rell and his troops were gathered together around the wrecked drop pod
along with Captain Claudius and his surviving marines. Dern, the
stormtrooper squad’s medic was seeing to the injuries of Prosnow and
Vartus with the assistance of Salia and Sophie while Mayleth was simply
sat close by watching and keeping hold of Cuddles’
leash. “So
‘ow long before dey is fit to fight?” Hazug asked in the ork language as
he walked up to his servants but looking at the injured
marines. “The
one called Prosnow is more seriously injured.” Sophie
replied. “But
the marines seem to think that his injury won’t cause him as much trouble
as Vartus’ wrist.” Salia added, “I’m not sure I understand how that
works.” “It’s
da armour.” Hazug said, “It’ll support da broken leg bone but da wrist is
a joint. Da armour dare needs to bend.” Hazug
did not respond to this, uncertain about what she meant. Instead he turned
his attention back to Salia and Sophie. “Wait
‘ere and keep ‘elpin’.” He told them, “I needs to go see dat inquisitor.”
And he walked off, heading for where Rell was sat talking with Cubrim and
Jarr while Captain Claudius looked on. “This
complicates matters my lord.” Cubrim commented. “Not
if we finds ‘em and kill ‘em quick enough.” Hazug replied and Claudius
smiled at him. “For
once I find myself in agreement with an ork.” He
said. “Ya
grot said dat ya ‘ad somethin’ to se to me.” Two Heads voice then called
out in the ork language and Hazug turned to see the other nob walking
towards him with Ratish close behind. “See
master? Ratish fetch Two Heads. No need to send any gits for ‘im.” Ratish
added. “Two
Heads,” Hazug began as he walked to meet Two Heads, “Batrug’s found
somethin’ in dat battlewagon tells us dat dese genestealers aint just a
bunch of wanderin’ lads. Dat wagon was built specially for
dem.” Both
of Two Heads frowned. “So
dare could be more dan wot we saw in da woods.” One of him
commented. “And
dey probably got a fort an’ all.” Hazug added. “Well
at least a fort aint goin’ nowhere.” The other one of Two Heads
replied. “Dat’s
wot I was thinkin’.” Hazug said, “But we still gotta find it. Dare’s still
a lot of places dat it could be out ‘ere. We don’t know whether dey’ll
‘ave taken one over or just built one by demselves.” “We
ought to ask Krorden.” Two Heads said and then the other one of him nodded
before adding, “Yeah, ‘e spends loads of time racin’ around out ‘ere. Dat
means ‘e’ll know places to get fuel and dems is da sort of places wot we
needs to look for.” Hazug
nodded. “Alright
den. I’ll take me lads and scout from da air in da coptas. We’ll look for
any signs of somethin’ new bein’ built. Meanwhile ya can take da rest of
da lads and ‘ave Krorden start askin’ around. Also see if any of da camps
and warbands out ‘ere ‘ave spotted anythin’ dat could ‘ave been
genestealers.” He said, “Get all da lads together and explain it to ‘em
while I let Rell know so dat ‘e can tell ‘is lot as
well.” “Goddit.”
Two Heads replied and he turned to leave. Then the other smiled and added,
“But I reckon ya ought to send one of ya gits to see to Drazzok. ‘E’s
complain’ dat dare aint no decent grub to be ‘ad.” And Hazug smiled as
well. As
Hazug then turned to head back towards where the humans were clustered
together he found Captain Claudius standing close behind him. “Just
who is in charge of this warband I see gathered around me?” the marine
asked, waving his arms at the various groups of greenskins around them.
Then before Hazug could answer he added, “It’s you isn’t it? Inquisitor
Rell’s claim to be in charge is a lie.” “Wot
makes ya think dat?” Hazug said. Hazug
grinned. “So
ya already knows dat dis warband is mine. Wotcha gonna do about it?” he
asked. “Nothing.”
Claudius told him, “My men and I will do our duty. We will help cleanse
this world of the genestealers and then take Inquisitor Rell back to face
justice. But we will not take orders from any of your
kind.” “Dat’s
just fine by me.” Hazug replied, “But don’t go getting’ in our way either
or I’ll let da lads finish ya off dare and den.” “Then
we have an agreement.” Claudius said. “Very
well. Oh and although I will not take orders from you, I will inform the
others of your plan and send your servant to see to the shaman.” Claudius
added before he turned and walked away. The
caravan approached the wall of the mining camp as it had done so often
before. But on this occasion the camp looked different. The wall was
higher in parts and there was more noise than was to be expected even from
a mine. “Wot’s
goin’ on boss?” one of the orks sat I the howdah of the squiggoth asked
Crognok, the caravan’s leader. “’Ow
should I know?” Crognok replied as he peered at the wall. Then he looked
around to the gretchin in the howdah. There were four of the smaller
greenskins fighting over a small dagger and Crognok picked up a discarded
boot and threw it at the closest, ”Runt!” he snapped, “Wot’s ya
name?” “Gruggi
master.” The gretchin replied. “Well
I needs ya to go down dare and find out wot’s goin’ on.” Crognok
ordered. “Yes
boss.” Gruggi replied and with the squiggoth still in motion the gretchin
climbed down one of its legs and jumped to the ground. Then he rushed
forwards, easily outpacing the enormous lumbering creature. His natural
instinct was to head for one of the tunnel entrances he had used on
previous occasions to move in and out of the camp. But when he came to the
nearest of these Gruggi found that it had been filled in. The dirt was a
different colour to that of the surrounding area and was mixed with rocks,
meaning that it had not simply collapsed as gretchin tunnels were prone to
doing sometimes. Especially if they were dug beneath roads frequented by
heavy traffic. Gruggi then continued along the wall, hunting for another
way in. But all the time this was happening the caravan was getting closer
to the main gates. “Where’s
dat grot gotten to?” Crognok muttered to himself as the caravan neared the
gate. Normally
a party of orks from inside the camp, often led by Runnug himself would
come out to meet the caravan and inspect what it had available for trade,
with the price generally being negotiated in metal from the mine that
would then be carried back to the nearest large settlement for sale there.
But for some reason on this occasion the gates began to swing open ahead
of the caravan and standing right inside was an ork waving the caravan
through. “Dat’s
odd.” Crognok muttered and he looked around again. Sure enough there were
still three more squiggoths behind his and more than twenty orks riding on
top of each. That meant that Runnug was inviting a force of almost a
hundred orks into his fort, “Dis aint like Runnug at
all.” “Maybe
‘e’s dead boss.” the nearby ork commented. Crognok
had to admit that Runnug’s death was a distinct possibility. Even
discounting the traditional ork method of gaining promotion by killing a
superior, mining was a risky business and he could easily have been killed
in an accident that did not need any help to occur. But
then Runnug himself made an appearance, dressed in the usual blue and
white attire of a member of the Death Skulls and he waved the caravan in
as well. “Keep
movin’.” Crognok told the ork directing the squiggoth, “But keep ya eyes
open an’ all. Dis just aint right.” “Come
on down.” Runnug called out to Crognok as the Death Skull approached the
lead squiggoth and as soon as the creature came to a halt the Bad Moon
scaled down its side. The
first thing he did when his feet hit the ground was take a look around.
Having never been allowed inside the perimeter wall before now he was
curious to see what the inside of the camp was like. A part of this was
because he wanted to get a good look at its defences from the inside.
After all it was quite possible that at some later date that information
may come in useful. “Where
ya goin’?” Crognok asked. “Me
‘ut.” Runnug replied, “I got somethin’ to show ya.” And Crognok began to
walk forwards. But then he halted suddenly. There was something that just
did not feel right about the situation and it was not just Runnug’s
behaviour. There was something about the Death Skull that felt out of
place and he looked around again. There
were armed orks positioned on the walls and Crognok saw signs of recent
construction there. The outside had looked as it always had so these
changes were down to reinforcement of the wall rather than repairing some
damage inflicted in an attack. He also saw numerous indirect fire weapons
dug into the ground within the walls, anyone assaulting this camp would be
in for a nasty shock when those started launching explosives over the wall
Crognok knew. Elsewhere
he saw orks at work building battlewagons that although fully armoured
looked to possess little in the way of firepower and Crognok considered
the likelihood of Runnug agreeing to purchase weapons from him that he
could mount on these vehicles. But
then something else out of the ordinary hit him. All around him Crognok
could see orks hard at work, but none of them looked to be doing the job
they were supposed to do – mining. There was not a single ork or gretchin
anywhere near to the mine entrance. “I’s
gonna show ya.” Runnug replied, “Dis way.” And he continued beckoning the
Bad Moon to follow him. Crognok
frowned but followed anyway. However, he slid his pistol from his belt and
held it by his side just in case. Rounding a nearby hut he found Graffgan
waiting. Like Runnug, Graffgan wore the clothing of a Death Skull. But his
clothes lacked the layers of ground in dirt that Runnug’s had acquired
after years of mining. “Is
dis ‘im den’?” Graffgan asked. “Yeah
dis is dare boss.” Runnug replied, “’E wants to see wot’s goin’
on.” Peering
inside Crognok gasped when he saw what waited on the other side of the
door and he tried to aim his pistol at it. But the purestrain genestealer
moved too quickly for him and it was on him before he could cry
out. The
alien knocked Crognok’s pistol aside with one of its clawed hands and then
extended its head towards him. As it did so it opened its jaw and its long
tongue lashed out, striking the ork just under his eye. Crognok barely
felt the hit but as the tongue withdrew he felt a strange sensation coming
from the tiny wound it had inflicted and he threw up his hands and clamped
them over it, suspecting that the attack had been poisoned. It had been in
its own way, but not as Crognok expected it to be. “Wotcha
done?” he asked as all of a sudden he began to sense voices in his
head. “Made
you one of us.” Graffgan replied before Crognok dropped to his knees and
fell forwards. The
orks of the caravan waited for their leader to return. Some remained in
the howdahs on top of the squiggoths while others climbed down to ground
instead. One or two noticed that there were groups of hooded orks watching
them but thought nothing of it. They were inside the mine’s defensive wall
and it was only natural that the inhabitants of the mining camp would want
to watch them to make sure that they did not try to cause trouble. It was
also well known that a Death Skull ran the camp and the Death Skulls clan
was infamous for taking anything not nailed down when its owner’s back was
turned. If it was nailed down then it was said that a Death Skull would
simply wait until he had stolen a suitable tool with which to remove the
nails and then steal them as well. But
then something happened that caused the orks of the caravan to take notice
of the situation. Behind them the gates began to swing shut and the sound
of them slamming shut boomed out. “Oi!”
Gruggi shouted from outside the gates, having reached them just as they
closed in front of him, “I’m still out ‘ere and I can’t get in.” then his
eyes widened as he heard a sudden screech from
inside. The
sound came from one of the hooded figures standing closest to the orks of
the caravan as it dropped its hood to reveal its misshapen head and leapt
at the nearest ork. This was the signal for the others to launch their
attack and orks, hybrids and purestrain genestealers came pouring out of
every possible nearby hiding place. The orks and gretchin on the ground
stood no chance, the purestrains in particular moving so quickly that they
had no chance to prepare to defend themselves. Only a handful of them were
able to draw weapons and none were able to hit anything. The orks and
gretchin still in the howdahs however were able to try and defend
themselves, spraying bullets over the sides of the squiggoths into the
crowd below. Some
of the genestealer controlled orks returned fire using small arms, hoping
to merely injure those in the howdahs rather than kill them. Meanwhile the
purestrain and hybrid genestealers themselves began to scale the side of
the massive creatures, using the harnesses of the howdahs as handholds.
This made them vulnerable however and the occupants of the howdahs started
hurling whatever came to hand down at them as they climbed. There was a
high-pitched scream as an unfortunate gretchin was thrown over the side,
striking a purestrain genestealer and knocking from the
squiggoth. Realising
the desperate situation that they were in, one of the orks from the howdah
rushed forwards to the point where the squiggoth itself was controlled. He
knew that if he could get the creature moving then its massive weight and
bulk would make a devastating weapon within the confines of the mining
camp. However, just as he sat down and took hold of the reigns he spotted
movement from the corner of his eye and he quickly tilted his head down to
see what it was. There he found himself looking right into the eyes of a
purestrain genestealer that had been using the reigns as support to help
it climb. The alien hissed at the ork as he drew his pistol. Then before
he could fire it dug its heels into the thick hide of the squiggoth’s neck
and pulled on the reigns with enough force that it dragged the ork from
his seat, sending him plummeting to the ground
below. As
the genestealers began to climb into the howdahs themselves the orks
struck at them with whatever weapons came to hand. This was the sort of
combat that they excelled at and they roared in defiance as they lashed
out with club and blade. The problem was that the orks were counting on
the genestealers to climb over the sides of the howdahs, but the aliens
had an alternative in mind. The claws of the purestrain genestealers were
easily able to rip through the lightweight construction of the howdahs and
all of a sudden the orks could find themselves with out cover. The first
of them found this out when a clawed hand smashed though the howdah to
grab him by the ankle. Then as he collapsed screaming the arm withdrew and
pulled him back with it. For a few seconds he found himself hanging upside
down until another genestealer, this one a hybrid, extended its tongue and
he blacked out. While
the occupants of the mining camp remained focused on the caravan they had
lured through their gates none of them were keeping watch on the gates
themselves and so did not notice as Gruggi dragged himself up the wall and
peered over. His eyes widened as he saw the unmistakably alien form of the
genestealers battling the orks. He squealed as he let go of his grip on
the top of the wall and dropped back down to the ground. He landed with a
‘thump!’ and the breath was knocked from him, but with no bones broken he
was able to pull himself back to his feet and he started to run. He didn’t
care where he ran to, just as long as it was away from
here. Crognok
watched as his orks and gretchin joined the others in reinforcing the camp
and manufacturing new weapons. Then he remembered something from just
before he had become part of his new warband. “The
gretchin?” Graffgan said from close by, when Crognok pictured sending
Gruggi to investigate the camp in his mind the mental image instantly
became part of the genestealers’ collective
consciousness. “I
don’t see ‘im around ‘ere anywhere.” Crognok
replied. “Then
he isn’t one of us.” Runnug said and a pair of purestrain genestealers
close by both hissed. “They’re
right.” Crognok said, “We have to find him.” Shortly
after the gates of the mining camp opened once more and a trio of warbikes
sped out, their riders searching along the walls at first as they hunted
for any sign of Gruggi.
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