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Waaargh! Hazug! Chapta 1 | |
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Waaargh! Hazug! Chapta 1 |
A
great deal of time and effort had been put into turning Jarr from an
orphan with no living relatives into one of the galaxy’s foremost killers.
Equipped with a custom manufactured rifle he had killed dozens of the
Imperium’s enemies, but all that had changed on the world of Crasus Minor.
Once an Imperial world it had been lost to the orks decades earlier and
for a long time it had written off as lost. But readings of the Imperial
Tarot had pointed to the world as a source of great evil that threatened
the Imperium and so Jarr had been sent to prevent the world’s former
governor from opening up a daemonic portal that would have seen the planet
turned into a breach between realspace and the warp that the servants of
chaos would be able to use to expand their influence into the Imperium of
Man. Thanks to the unexpected assistance of some of Crasus Minor’s
inhabitants, both human and ork, Jarr’s mission had been a success but not
without cost. Jarr himself had been badly injured and despite almost three
years of healing was no longer able to meet the physical requirements of
an agent of the Officio Assassinorum. But the Imperium had other secretive
agencies to defend its security and Jarr service had simply continued with
one of those. The person who had sent Jarr to Crasus Minor in the first
place, a man named Darien Rell now counted the former assassin amongst his
personal agents and it was to this man that Jarr had now bee
summoned. He
found Rell in a room with several other people, both men and women. Some
of them were armoured as if for battle while others including Rell himself
wore more casual clothing. Finally one other individual who sat away from
the rest was just a silhouette, whoever this person was they did not want
to be identified even by their peers and so made use of a rare example of
holographic camouflage to conceal their features. The only common feature
amongst all those present, except for the silhouette, was the badge all of
them wore. A badge that consisted of a letter ‘I’ with three small
horizontal lines crossing it. The
badge of the inquisition. Inquisitors
were dangerous individuals, trusted to deal with the gravest threats to
humanity whether they came from within or without. Threats so grave that
sometimes the only way to defeat them was to scour an entire planetary
surface clean. Even if this meant slaughtering billions of innocents along
the way. “You
summoned me inquisitor?” Jarr asked from the
doorway. “What
is he doing here Darien?” a hooded inquisitor asked, his head turning
towards Rell as he asked the question. “I
invited him.” Rell replied without taking his eyes off the large display
that the inquisitors were clustered around. Then he waved Jarr closer,
still keeping his attention focused on the display, “Come here Jarr.” He
said but Jarr remained where he was, uncertain of how the other
inquisitors would react, “I said come here.” Rell repeated sternly and
Jarr stepped forwards, the inquisitors moving out of his
way. “This
is inadvisable. He is not one of us.” A female inquisitor
commented. “You
take risks Darien.” The hooded man then added, “Too many risks.” They
were called tyrannids. “How
recent are these?” Jarr asked. “The
oldest is three years, the newest less than a week.” Rell told him, “The
hive fleets are getting closer.” “Plans
are in place to stop them.” An armoured inquisitor
said. “Plans
that won’t work.” Rell responded, “Not while we are threatened with
another invasion that requires us to divide our
forces.” “We
have discussed this before Darien.” A female inquisitor whose face showed
signs of having been rebuild surgically on several occasions said, “The
ork invasion will fail.” “But
not before causing extensive damage to at least a dozen systems. Systems
with resources that would be better deployed against the tyrannids.” Rell
pointed out, “My plan removes one threat while buying us time to respond
to the other.” “That
is not true.” Rell replied and he turned to look at Jarr, “My acolyte
survived being amongst them, even making direct contact with them.” He
added and Jarr saw many of the other inquisitors now glaring at
him. “It
is true.” He said, “My mission to assassinate Governor Highbalt succeeded
only because of the assistance of the orks.” “Assistance
we should try to call upon once more.” Rell added, “Fellow inquisitors, we
all know that the orks of Crassus Minor are preparing to launch an
invasion that will undoubtedly head in our direction-“ “The
orks relish fighting,” Rell said, “and the simple truth is that they know
that they will get a better fight out of us than the
tau.” It
was then that the shadowy figure behind the holographic camouflage spoke
up. “But
you really expect them to instead throw themselves into the path of the
tyrannids just because we ask them to?” he asked. “Perhaps
it will not be quite that simple.” Rell replied, “But I believe that there
is one among the orks that we can approach to try and persuade their
chieftain to do just that.” Then he looked at Jarr again, “What did you
say his name was?” “Hazug.
Hazug Throatslitter of the Blood Axe Clan.” Jarr
replied. Hazug
Throatslitter of the Blood Axe Clan awoke to the sound of banging. This
had become a common sound of late, originating from the construction going
on around his home. However, it was far too early in the day for the
gretchin builders to have arrived to start work yet, let alone the orks
who would be required to do all of the heavier work involved in such a
project. He realised that the source of the sound was his own front door
and for a moment his hand reached for the pistol he kept by his bed. But
then it struck him that anyone intending to attack would not knock first
and he relaxed and rolled over. Hazug no longer answered his own front
door, he had servants for that. Salia
and Sophie crept downstairs as whoever was outside banged on the front
door again. Humans, the two young women were sisters and although they had
often tried to explain the significance of this to Hazug but had never
quite been successful given the manner in which orks reproduced by
emitting spores that grew in patches of the fungus that they shared part
of their biology with. “Perhaps
we should get our guns.” Salia suggested. The younger of the pair she had
been in Hazug’s service only about half as long as Sophie, “Or
Mayleth.” “Mayleth
would just tell us to go away.” Sophie replied, “Don’t worry, Hazug won’t
let anything happen to us. I’m certain of it.” And she continued to creep
down the stairs. Just as the pair reached the bottom there was a creaking
sound and the cupboard beneath the stairs opened to reveal the
grime-covered face of a gretchin as it peered out from under the
stairs. “Someone’s
at the door Ratish.” Sophie replied, ”Why didn’t you answer
it?” “Answerin’
doors is git’s work.” Ratish replied and Salia
grinned. “Ha!”
she exclaimed, “So you admit that Hazug needs us
around.” “Never!”
Ratish shouted, “Master not need any gits. Master just need Ratish. Ratish
can do everythin’ master needs ‘im to.” “So
answer the door.” Sophie said right before there was another pounding on
it and all three of Hazug’s servants shuddered. “I
guess we’re answering the door then.” Salia said. “I
am.” Sophie replied, “You stay back there and if there’s trouble go and
get Hazug and Mayleth.” Salia
nodded in reply as her older sister stepped up the front door and opened
it. “Where’s
da git lover?” the large ork standing in the street outside bellowed as he
looked down at Sophie. Orks that grew to be this size were known as nobs
and they formed the leadership of the species. From the yellow and blue
pattern of his clothing she could tell that he was a member of the Bad
Moon Clan. The orks of the Bad Moons grew teeth at a faster rate than any
of the other clans and since orks used their shed teeth as currency that
made them the wealthiest of the clans. Members often tended towards
trading occupations and this nob was no exception. Sophie recognised him
as the leader of a trading caravan that Hazug had once purchased a trained
attack squig from that Sophie had promptly named
Cuddles. “Kobar?”
she said and he grinned. “Master!”
he yelled, “Dare’s a Bad Moon to see ya. It’s dat Kobar. Ratish bring ya
da message.” Then
there was the sound of Hazug getting out of bed and heavy footfalls as he
came downstairs. “I
aint buyin’.” He said, “I never does any shoppin’ dis early in da
day.” “I
aint sellin’ either.” Kobar replied, “Not unless dare’s any of me fine
merchandise wot catches ya eye dat is. I is ‘ere cause – cause, ‘ang on a
mo.” He continued and then he looked around, “Grot! Light!” he bellowed
and a gretchin came rushing over carrying a long candle. “Salia
cover your nose and mouth!” Sophie snapped as she clamped her hands over
her face just as Kobar emitted a sudden blast of flatulence and there was
a flash of green flame. “That’s
vile!” Salia exclaimed as she too covered her nose and
mouth. “Excellent
one master.” the gretchin said. “Yeah,
it was.” Kobar agreed. “Why
is ya ‘ere Kobar?” Hazug asked. “So
wot d’ya need me for?” Hazug asked, “Can’t ya ‘andle a few wildboys on ya
own?” “Oh
we caught ‘em alright.” Kobar told him, “But dey kept givin’ us da slip
and ‘idin’ so we ‘ad to use grots to find ‘em.” Hazug
frowned. This was unusual behaviour for wildboys. Even once introduced
into a modern society orks struck targets directly and openly and if they
withdrew they did not do so stealthily. With the exception of one clan
that was. “Bring
‘em!” Kobar yelled in the direction of one of the squiggoths and another
ork began to shout and wave to someone out of sight. Then moments later a
group of orks came wandering around the squiggoth, all of them gazing
around as if everything they were seeing now was something they were
seeing for the first time. Which of course it was, these were the wildboys
that the human farmers had reported. Like most wildboys these wore simple
loincloths but in addition to that they were covered all over in mud. This
was not something left on their skin from when they had dug their way out
of the underground pods in which they had grown but was something done
deliberately to help them conceal themselves. Together with the behaviour
they had apparently exhibited there was only one conclusion Hazug could
draw and he grinned. “Dey
is Blood Axes.” Hazug said. For years now he had been the only one of his
clan on the planet, but now that looked to have
changed. “Dat’s
wot I reckoned as well.” Kobar said, “So dey aint my problem no more. Dey
is ya’s.” “Hazug
they’ll get mud everywhere.” Sophie protested just as the first of the
wildboys was about to step through the front door. “Yeah.”
Hazug agreed. He saw no problem with mud inside since it could be swept
up, but he had learned that Salia and Sophie preferred it when the house
was kept as clean as possible without their intervention, “Take ‘em round
da back Ratish.” He added and then he looked at Salia, “Go get Mayleth.”
He said, “Tell ‘er to bring Rhia.” Then he looked back at Kobar, “So where
was dis farm exactly?” he asked. “Ah,
well if it’s information ay is after den maybe we should be talkin’ about
me fee.” Kobar replied with a grin and Hazug pulled a tooth from the pouch
on his belt and held it up in front of Kobar. “Good
enough for ya?” he asked. “Dat’ll
do nicely.” Kobar said, snatching the tooth away. A
dozen orks sat around the fire they had constructed in the clearing at the
centre of a natural rock formation, each one holding out a stick that had
a small squig impaled on the end. The tiny creatures squealed as the orks
held them over the flame to cook them while still alive. Then there was a
sudden ‘snap’ and one of them stood up. “Nothin’
Gharrit. Sit down and ‘ave ya breakfast.” Another
replied. “I’m
tellin’ ya dat dare’s somethin’ out dare.” Gharrit said and he tossed his
partially cooked food to the ground and bent down to pick up his rifle.
But just as he laid a hand on the weapon a figure covered in a hooded
cloak burst out from amongst the rocks and hurled himself at Gharrit,
knocking him from his feet and sending the pair tumbling across the
ground. There
were shots as some of the orks were able to fire before their mysterious
attackers reached them and lunged at them empty handed. One let out a
screech as his intended target managed to get off one last shot that
struck him in the shoulder. The figure hit the ground short of the ork
with the rifle. The ork kicked at the injured figure at his feet, lining
his rifle up for a headshot to finish him off. But at the moment that his
boot made contact with the figure a clawed arm unexpectedly emerged from
beneath the cloak and slashed at his leg. With a scream he fell, his
finger tightening on the trigger of his rifle and firing off the rest of
the magazine. Gharrit
saw this happen and confused by what he had just seen he pulled one hand
free of his opponent’s grip and swiftly pulled down his hood before he
could react. There he saw what looked vaguely like an ork face, but its
head was more bulbous and the skin had a slight bluish tone to it. Then as
the strange looking ork opened hissed at Gharrit he saw that he had a
mouth filled with larger than normal teeth. Then all of a sudden an
impossibly long tongue lashed out and struck Gharrit in the
neck. Gharrit’s
eyes widened and then he relaxed as his attacker released him and stood
up. Then Gharrit became aware of an ork wearing the distinctive blue of
the Death Skulls Clan. “Geddup.”
The Death Skull told him and while his comrade still struggled against
their attackers Gharrit got to his feet and looked at the newcomer, “I is
Graffgan and ya is one of us now.” The Death skull added and he looked
around to where more orks had appeared behind him. Further behind them a
creature slightly larger than a typical ork stood, hunched over it rested
two clawed arms on the ground while two more conventional ones hung by its
side, “Dey is in charge.” Graffgan told Gharrit as they both stared at the
creature. “Yeah.”
Gharrit replied, “I can ‘ear it in me ‘ead.”
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