Battle for Mehta – 05: Civil War

Big Mek Spankruk happened into the un-official sentry roll my circumstance simply because he set his shop up right at the main entrance to camp at the base of a large rock outcropping.  The Mek felt that he would one day be able to create a launch pad on top of the rocks which later conflicted with Warboss Bug Bugga’s vision of saving materials and using the rocks as part of the wall around the camp.  Despite having lost a lot of teef betting on the Warboss’s demise he still clings to the idea that one day he will have his own Ork town surrounding a glorious orbital station with a fleet of stompas, gargants and great gargants to patrol his civilization, a civilization that embraces technology in every aspect of life.  He would usher in new technologies, new ways of thinking and doing things, and everywhere he went there would be boss poles on Nobs adorning his glyph, three circles representing his Shokk Attakk gun, in a three ended spanner and his signature cap in the middle. He may even get rid of the Ork assistants and start a factory of TinBoyz that build what ever he wanted.  He could send his automated gargants out to vacuum up alien technology with teleporty devices and bring them back to the city for him to recreate how he saw fit.  Maybe even large kroozers that would travel the galaxy…

A low humming sound jarred the sentry from his day dream, a humming that got louder and louder.  The Big Mek walked out of his shop with one of his apprentices to see what it was that was heading their direction.  Off in the distance he could see a subtle cloud of gray dust following behind a human truck, a yellow civilian truck with what seemed like a pile of garbage in the rear.  More Orks gathered to see what the commotion was all about.  Not a few seconds later the truck pulled through the gate and barely ran into the mob of boyz gathered inside.  The garbage shifted as the truck came to an abrupt stop, and the piles of broken, battered, Orks stood up no longer looking like refuse but a small mob of damaged brutes sluggishly drawing themselves out of the utility truck.

Skag Warrock threw his customized rokkit pack at the Big Mek. “Outa juice and no weird rokk.”  Sullen and defeated the Storm Boy nob brushed past the Mek and headed for his hut.

There was a quiet in the camp as the Orks all felt the defeat, out of 70 Orks only 5 returned, and none of the 29 Grots made it.  Spankruk was especially upset, he had sent his favorite assistant out on this mission to find another of the slimy stones.

The Big Mek slipped in Painboy Skagnabba’s hut as a kommando with with bionik eyes was walking out followed by a host of flies.  The pain boy was cradling a jar of green goo like it was a baby.  Skagnabba looked up suddenly when he noticed Spankruk and awkwardly put the jar under his work desk.

“How is da big boss?  You get tha head juiced up?”

“Frag it! Almost there.  I needs more squig juice.”  Skagnabba clinked the side of a very large glass bowl continuing Warboss Bug Bugga’s head with a slue of wires and tubes running in and out of the container.  The painboy was acting different, ever since that stone shone up he had been more ork-like, faster, less sluggish, yet more pallid and clammy.  Of all the odd boys, he was certainly the oddest.

“Get it togetha quick, boy.” The Big Mek commanded as he left Skagnabba’s hut.

A high pitched engine cut through Spankruk’s concentration just in time for him to look up to see an Ork biker skid to a stop right in front of the Mek.  Nazjamma leapt off of his bike dashed a pace and punched Spankruk’s shoulder. “I found ‘em! I found anuver tribe, dere are more Orks on tha rokk!”

Spankruk was about to clobber the nob when he realized what that meant.  This was good, this was real good.  If he could convince the tribe to follow him they could increase their numbers and take over the planet.  First he would have to dominate them, he, not an assistant, would have to put them in their place.  HE would have to show them who is boss.  Yes, yes, this was good, this was perfect.

“Skaggnabba, get out here! We’re goin’ ta war!”

“This is more like it!” shouted Skag Warrok as the storm boys flew over the ruined city. “Nice, dirty and proppa-like.”  The Imperial sector was ravaged from war an eon ago, crumbling walls, chunks of debris newly calved off the buildings, trees growing up through the heaps of earth displaced from bombards, this is what war should look like. The nob was still shaken from the last skirmish with the Tau and the vacuum sealed war zone that was cleaned and polished.  His confidence was growing as the boys soared through the dim morning sky over the city.

“Grots!” one of the boys yelled and headed down toward a clearing at the center of a bombed out building. The rest of the boys in both mobs followed his lead.

Skagnabba wheeled his bike around, which doubled as a mobile medical center, to meet the grounded boys. “Where dem Orks at?” The flies nearly catching up to the pain boss dancing in his headlight before he flicked the light off.

“Uver side of da trees.” whispered the nob.

Seeing the commotion, Spankruk gave a “hush” to the two small mobs of Grots tagging along.  He pointed to one mob then to the end of the bombed out Librarium, then pointed to the other mob and then to the center of a blast crater in the middle of the building.  The big Mek made sure his Shokk Attakk Gun was secure before scaling the three story wreck of wall, debris and books to get to a small section of roof over looking the block. It was hard to see anything in the darkness, the area was quiet and very still.

A gretchen carrying a large shovel and spanner attempting to scale the building gave out a shrill scream as his grip gave way to him falling to the floor below, crashing through and landing on a slope of books on the second floor.  Seconds later several engines could be heard revving up and four densely packed plasma coils could be seen through the darkness lighting up the walls of a small shack.  Tops of grot heads could be seen spilling out of the building and making tight mobs of things.

“Get in there, boys!” Big Mek Spankruk bellowed from his perch, the orbs on his Shokk Attakk Gun spinning and gaining velocity.

A sinister glimmer sparked in Skaggnabba’s eye “Lets get stuck in, boys.” The pain boy revved up his engine to catch up with the trukk full of tankbustas already speeding around the thicket of trees in between them and the Grot hoards.

With an arc of warp energy snottlings were flung into the thick of the grot mob maintaining the Kustom Mega-Kannon, tearing at their larger cousins pulling a few down before the trots subdued the Mek’s ammunition.

“Hold still Boyz and get ready to fire.” frazzled an electronic voice box from the Grot in charge.  His body was wired into an over sized mechanical suit fashioned after Ork Mega Armor.  A grot mechanic behind them pulled a rip cord starting the engine to his kustom force field.

“kshug kshug kshug kshug!” The Tankbustas Trukk’s momentum as it was hit by four blasts from the kustom mega kannon reduced it to a molten trukk wrap with most of the boys inside making it out before the few were melted into the glowing steel.

“Hold tight lads!” Belched the Grot boss staying the other grots’ resolve who were getting nervous from the sounds of rokkit powered Orks flying over the tree line filling the landscape.

A steady trickle of snotlings Worked their way into the thick of the grots ticking away slowly at their numbers.  Each batch of snotlings barely taking out a grot or two before they were pummeled by cleavers, sticks, rocks and feet.

“Get ready!” The Grot boss shouted.  The Grots who were not busy dealing with snotlings braced themselves for a counter attack, the storm boys were now present swarmed the tree line and were headed right at them.

“Fire!!!” the Grots let off salvo after salvo into the storm boys, two vered off smacking into a rock cluster near by exploding into small balls of combustible squig juice fueled flames.  The Nob nearly shrugged off a fatal blow before landing.

“You, now!!!” Yelled Skag Warrok as he charged the Grot boss.  The boss readied his mechanical body, power klaw infused arm waiting to strike.  Right before Skag brought the blow in a Grot caught Skag’s arm and yanked him off balance away from the combat.

“No, you face me now!” The nob could now see that this Grot was no ordinary Grot, he had what looked like a croft between a grabba stikk and a power klaw on the end of a staff, the grot himself was covered in scars and warpaint signifying a higher station that the run of the mill serfs War Boss Bug Bugga had around his camp.  This whole force was different.  The Ork storm boys now flooding into the battle sparring while the Nob-Grot and Skag stared at each other assessing one another’s prowess.  Finally the two met simultaneously, Skag’s power claw around the Nob-grot’s neck and the nob-grot’s klaw/grabba severing Skag’s body in two right at the waist.

The rest of the storm boys faired about as well with chunks of boys flying through the air smearing the blue armor of the box in free gooey blood and bits of fungal ork meat all over.  Despite the heavy losses the Storm boys stuck with it keeping with the fight.

The second mob of Storm Boys landed and rushed in with rocket packs blazing smacking a few Grots to the ground before the ax swinging began.  The nob barreled through the trots bee-lining it for the Mek with his motorized Kustom Force Field generator but was quickly yanked out of his trajectory.  This was showing to be a difficult battle for the Orks who were used to going after the biggest baddest Ork of all, but against these Grots they were taken off guard time and time again as they all looked alike to the boys.  There it was another Nob-Grot with a klapper-stikk staring at him.  The confidence swelled and the nob lunged in to be caught on the stick and dispatched in a mutual kill, both nob and Grot-nob clipped apart.

Grots started clambering to get away from the overwhelming storm boy mob, Mek nearly dropping his kustom force field cart.  Finishing off the Mek and his Grot posse was not on the menu for these boys, there had been a steady hail of hail from a band of lobbas on the other side of the Ork gut encrusted rocks and the storm Boys were fixing to end that.  Skaggnabba tore off to lead the charge into the fray, wheeling around the rocks then stopped waiting for the boys to catch up.  The Grots were terrified of the mob and hardly had time to react before the storm boys flew in.

Behind the fight a trukk of Grot burnas brought their torches to bare on the foot slogging tankbustas who were still dazed and without purpose.  The boys were not dazed for long as their skin and rokkits sizzled and popped from the gas heat. With their target gone the burna boys swung back around the far end of the rock outcropping to help the lobba crew.

As the Burnas’ trukk came to a stop on top of a craggy outcropping and were about to disembark the edges of the trukk began to swarm with snotlings tearing at the Grots savagely ripping several of them to pieces in their warp fueled frenzy.  The Mek and trots aimlessly burning and blasting at the snotlings ended up reducing their own trukk to a heap of scrap metal before the three remaining could see again, by then the lobba crew were no more and neither were the storm boys.

“Start trucking’ lads!” The Grot boss commanded.  The Mek with his kustom field hand cart and the remaining Grots hurried up to join with the Boss. “We gotta get some distance and get them books.

Spankruk was confused, other than a very rare runtherda Orks and Gretchen didn’t care for books, especially not oomie books.  Perhaps they were not after a war with them but they happen to be sitting on the Grots’ treasure.  If that is the case this skirmish may have been a waste, had they been standing on a heap of gears the Gretchen may have just wandered off.  The doubt was kicking in.  But then again, what kind of Ork… or Grot for that matter, read books?  That just isn’t right!

Skaggnabba burst off a few rounds into the Grots manning the kustom-mega-kannons, each shot ricocheting off the cannons the crew hid behind.  No bother, the pain boy circled around slashing at the attendants with his bone saw and various pokey things attached to his moving lab.  On one of the passes Skaggnabba noticed a crudely carved statue nestled in the rubble under the kannons, his actions mellowed with each pass, he could feel that sense of home, of a maternal warmth fill him from within, it was the same sensation the weird rokk had given him.  He found it!  Another piece!  A stone of his very own!  He must have it.  Seeing the slow carnage the remaining burner Grots lunged into the fray.

Snottlings ran at the boss and his boys, the unrelenting zzaps from the Big Mek kept coming.  Each blast knocking a boy or two off but not slowing the marching boys as they came across toward the Librarium.

Hiding in a series of broken statues a small mob of Grots waited to ambush, right as the Grot Boss and his boys came about the rushed forward throwing all of their fire power into them knocking off one of the remaining Grots.  The boss made great time slinging the ineffectual assault to the side still cruising toward the books only to be barely slowed by another round of Gretchen slaves.  Now nothing stood in the way of the books.

Battle for Mehta – 04: Carbines of Blood

“Fwapfunk!” The Warboss’ severed head landed on Skagnabba’s workbench startling the feverish painboy. Wiping the sweat from his face Skagnabba looked up from his rusty jars of squig fluid and boiled snake venom, looming in the doorway was a very large biker boy with arms crossed and Findulfang, Bug Bugga’s personal Grot driver with an uncharacteristic saddened demeanor, chest and arms covered in his master’s blood.  The head ever so slowly writhed like the severed appendage of a daddy long leg.

“Da big boss?” The painboy uttered through aching and terrified lips.
“Da big boss.” replied the biker with growing confidence. As dire as the fight against the Space Wolves had been he was slowly growing accustomed to the idea that he was now in line for Biker nob status.

Big Mek Spankruk barged into the painboy’s lab, shoving the biker to the side and kicking Findulfang under the table clanging into a stack of cans crushing a medicinal gray mushroom. “Thats whats left of Bug Bugga? Dregged by a umie?”

“Not just a umie, a space marine, one dem big ‘uns wif da fancy armor, had a big shiny club that took tha boss’ head right off, then fizzled into tha warp.”  The biker acted out the scene with his hands in a barely understandable dance of fingers, fists and explosions.

“No good.  Studgutz, do tha squig juice thing to tha boss head and get it to me.  Warboss needs ta lead tha boys again!”

The pain boy nodded as Big Mek Spankruk spun around and smacked into Zognoggin who was standing right behind him.  “Skum git!” Spankruk yelled.

“What is this?” Zognoggin held up the dripping green stone.  An occasional fruit fly wiggled its way out of the slime and made its way to the Painboy.

Spankruk glanced over at the distracted painboy who was enamored by the fruit flies, then over to the Biker.

“Whats yer name and where this rokk come from?” Demanded the Big Mek.

“Nazjamma, sur, we found tha rokk in a shak in da Dur Zognoggin told us about.”  The biker uttered as he tried to muster the confidence of his new Nob position.

“This is warp rokk, mine now.” Zognoggin turned around to walk out.

“No! Its mine!” Skagnabba jumped off the stump he was sitting on uncharacteristic speed for a boy who is known for his sloth-like movement.  This caught everybody off guard.  Zognoggin caught his wits just quick enough, as the painboy was shoving his way through the orks to get to the weirdboy, to lift his hand up, light a little crackle in his eyes and slam a psychic boot down on the painboy’s head crashing him to the ground.

Zognoggin sneered at the other orks and headed to his tent with the stone.

The silence was broken by the painboy’s squib juice injectors coming back online aiding his bionic insides. The Big Mek looked around at the other boys in the room, each one gathering themselves and in a somewhat deflated manner suggested “find another one?”

The rokkit packs worked like a charm, Spankruk had added larger fuel canisters to help they boyz stay up longer. 42 storm boyz took to the sky over the dilapidated Imperial city, an ork painboy orderly rode below them watching out for anything they spotted.  The town was clean, unnervingly clean like streets dusted, ruins spotless, were the humans coming back?  The cleanliness bothered the orks, the Gretchen lingering behind the storm boyz took it upon themselves to kick over weakened chunks of plastcrete with foot, fist or blasta.  A few blocks over the Tankbustas could hear the ruckus and let off a few rokkits into an abandon building.  Something must have hit just right, a support beam, am integral elevator shaft, something, what ever it was the several story structure came crashing down sending dust and debris everywhere, but to the ork surprise a scream came from he building as well.

One boy started to gloat at the lucky shot when he was quickly silenced by the others.  They waited and watched, trying to make out shapes in the dust that now permitted the air in the sector.  One after another, read beams of light flicked one from where the building had once been.

“Its tha Fish Faces!!!” cried one of the tankbustas to the rest of the orks.  The bane of orks, the thing all orks have come to fear the most, the one thing that keep orks up at night, aside from those days Skagnabba gets an idea about how to create a flying ork out of an ork, four squighounds, some tarp and a lot of stitching and removing of “unimportant” ork bits.  Tau!

Red rots started appearing on the bodies of storm boyz as they drew closer to the streets but not in time.  Several missiles could be seen parting the dust to collide into the sides of descending boyz.  The painboy raced to the rescue stapling the arm of one boy back on but couldn’t react fact enough to save the other two.

Big Mek Gargburna braced his old shokk attack gun against the wall of the ruin trying to gauge where the missiles came from.  From the third floor he had a pretty good vantage point and he could still almost make out the crackling of burnt dust lingering in the air.  The orbs spun slowly and whirled as a few unsuspecting snotlings were sucked up into the devious contraption and lobbed across a small manufactorum into the suit of a broadside.

The Tau pilot was caught off guard by the tiny intruders that were now biting into his leg and abdomen.  Wiggling, trying to get the creatures off of him, the light green of their skin quickly disappearing as his blood caked their devilish faces.  He drew his ion pistol out and shot each one in the head, missing once and rupturing the side of the suit.  Part victory mostly pain, the venerated warrior let out of scream into the sky.

The Storm boys had all landed by this point and had separated into two squads and divided, one headed toward what seemed to be marker lights and the other huddled against a building preparing to leap over into combat followed by the painboy. The second mob rushed across the darkened street toward the marker lights.  The Nob’s power claw belched smoke as it primed the hydraulic pistons but before the boyz could make it into the ambiguous Tau shapes the dust erupted into a a dance of carbine shots too many to count as the Fire Cadre urged the pathfinders and fire warriors into action.  Without the painboy to retrieve their parts the clambered over each other to escape returning to a small ruined checkpoint station they had flown over.

The tankbustas kicked the driver of their trukk, “Get us up in there!” one shouted.  The trukk lurched forward rokkits flying into the pathfinders blowing one into a bloody firework display.

With a “fwumm” the truck stopped and began to heat up. “Get out, boyz!” one tankbusta yelled.  The seams of the trukk quickly began to glow blue and the trukk crumpled up around itself.  Carbine shots raced through the air tearing the boyz to shreds leaving one boy huddled behind the piles of scorched armor and bio-mass.  He could now see what had brought the trukk down, there before him two Tau crisis suits with double barreled rifles in each arm touched down on the street, both suits eyeballing the smear on the ground, dust settling on the perfect chrome armor.

“Now boyz!” The storm boy nob shouted to the lads as a few of them leapt into the sky and a sudden fire engulfing the sky above them lighting the boys ablaze. The painboy could see the scorch marks as one glinting Tau contraption brought a gust of flame down on to the bike.  The boy could feel the bike heat up underneath him before the fuel tank exploded tearing him to pieces.  The Nob, landed with only one boy remaining, flanked by two suits on either side.

A small mob of Grots seeing the unaware crisis suits took advantage of the opportunity throwing volleys of various sized chunks of metal from their Grot blastas at them.  The Tau quickly darted for the upper elevation of a ruined office complex easily avoiding the crude blastas. “Lets show da fish faces what you can do!” commended the run herda to his wards and the Grots tore off into the building.

Through the commotion the sky lit up catching the attention of every green skin still alive or nearly clinging to life, a blue beam the width of a deffdread stretched out leveling the top story of the Big Mek’s perch vaporizing his every molecule and sending debris down onto the Grots below.  The remaining Grots huddled together in the first floor doing everything they could to hide from the monstrous shadow of the riptide looming over the block, ion canon still glowing from the attack.

Two Storm Boyz ran at the two Crisis Suits surveying the wrecked trukk.  The Ork boy brought his ax down into the shoulder of one suit nearly cleaving the robotic arm off the suit grazing the pilot inside.  Just as the nob was lofting his power klaw over head to finish the tau one lit his thrusters and slammed into the nob and companion knocking them over as the other Tau jammed two rounds of the fusion blasters into the boyz.

“Get up there, and get them Kanz!” belched the herda.  The Grots, eager to please, scampered up the ruins to catch a couple Tau Crisis suits.  The Tau were a bit surprised to see the snaggle toothed critters running after them.  With confidence and apathy the two Tau warriors washed the Grots with bursts of flame sizzling a few of the Grots before they brought sticks, clubs and rocks against the shiny armor.  The Tau were not ready for the flood of beatings the tiny warriors brought down on them, ripping tearing, and jamming things into every seam and hole they could find until they could get at the squishy insides of the pilots quickly savaging their bodies.

“Dats enough, lets get us some more!” the runt herda beckoned.  The Grots ran down stairs and out into the street to get on with the other suits.  Startled by missile fire blasting the grots to ground beef they ran back into the building to be quickly cut down by fusion blasts.

With the rest of the Orks torn up one small mob of gretchen remained, one small swatch of green still held their ground and all of the Tau turned their gaze to that ruined building. The grots could feel it, and without their herda to quell their fears their anxiety rose. The grots hunkered down hiding behind door jams, under the freshly freed rubble and waited for the shiny kanz to arrive, and they did.  With a large blue beam lighting up the ground floor of the building followed by fusion blasts from the suits the grots were no more.

“Call in the Earth boys, we need this sector cleaned again before those spores pop up again.”