Battle for Mehta – 02: Big Nob Gortusk final days

September 8, 2014

Written by Ted Kincaid and Josh Neill

As Warboss Snaggfang Bug Bugga’s trukk road off into the early morning sun Gortusk Korchucka smiled to himself, turned around to meet Big Mek Spankruk. “Jobs a good ‘un, Spankruk, he bought it. I’ll be krumpin ordz a gitz wit my own stompa soon an Bug Bugga will be snikked!”

Big Mek Spankruk held out his hand and glared at the Old, oversized Nob, “teef first, stompa later!”

Two snotlings, fearing the Nob’s punishment pulled a rusty Imperial ammo crate out from under a squig-leather tent as fast as they could.  Gortusk kicked the box over with its snotling handlers scattering ork teeth all over the ground.  The Big Mek smiled with anticipation.  Goretusk turned around. “Lets go boyz!” he said with massive outstretched arms.  “This kunnin’ plan is tha glitz!!”  Today Gortusk was on the road to becoming a Warboss!

“Greenskins?” Uttered a confused Gafencu. “How could greenskins even pick up the distress signal?” He watched as they roared straight for the manufactorum in their ridiculous contraptions, some were in strange ornithopter like pieces of scrap metal. There were even some of them strapped to rockets! Inside a ramshackle truck however was a massive brute of an ork that looked for all the world like a longhorned bovine creature.

Unaware and uncaring of his incredulity the swarm responded immediately with The Shrouded One exuding its venomous cloud obscuring the advancing tide.

“Shoot ‘em bugeyes and bring me dat forcefield!” Gortusk bellowed from the heart of his wartrukk.  Black powder smoke trailing behind the speeding slabs of confiscated Astarties tech into the wave of carapace and sinew with little affect.

The Spine Guardians replying fire had a much greater effect, impaling two the Deffkopa riders spraying blood and oil over the ground.  The third Ork, awash in his mate’s biomatter quickly banked his kopter and tore off to camp in a hasty retreat.

Advancing across the street the Brood Mother and her children unleashed a relentless hail of fire into the reckless orks with the rocket packs.  The Nob pushed on as his boyz veered off course with each spine hitting them.  Despite his outward courage he was feeling the heaviness of his Power Klaw knowing that we he finally makes contact with the little buggers it was going to hurt him more than help him.

“Stop tha trukk!” Gortusk yelled and the trukk swerved to a stop. The weathered Nob rushed past the broken gabbinz of what Gortusk believed to be his prize: a disabled vortex missile, the next piece in his Stompa and plan for conquest.  The rest of the metal clad Orks Poured out of their truck like a broken damn sprinting for the seething mass of chitin and bone, but they were not fast enough to close the gap in time.

The Nob’s freeboota Runtherd with a mass of exhausted grots ran to catch up with the boyz.  Their job was clear, grab the rokkit,  load it onto the trukk and hightail it home while Gortusk finished off what ever enemy guarded the prize.

The clash of Ork and Termigaunt wore as the two xenos clashed.  The StormBoyz were over run and slowly Gortusk’s boyz slowly followed.

Gafencu chortled as the Spine Guardians detonated the truck behind the charging greenskins, it grew into a maniacal laughter as he watched the Brood Mother flex her own formidable power, igniting the nerves and receptors of the brutes as her children gunned them down and charged, the aliens barely managing to flail at the relentless tide. It was quickly silenced as he noticed tiny green creatures grab the emitter and begin a hasty retread.

Tiny claws and razor-sharp teeth tore into the big Nob as we was drug to the ground.  Regret is not something Orks often deal with but now in his final moments Gortusk Korchucka knew that he would never be a Warboss and his empire would never be realized.  His treachery, sending Warboss Snaggfang Bug Bugga to be massacred at the hands of some beakies may have just wiped his tribe from the planet. His regret was quickly over.

“NO!” Gafencu yelled helplessly from his perch “How can I lure more without it!?” He couldn’t influence any of the creatures below, what could he do but watch?

The smaller orks with their long pointed ears, crude weapons and devilish faces tugged and pulled the decoy transmitter back away from the fight and smoldering vehicle as the Brood Mother continued her psychic assault on the remaining orks. The Hive Mind however, was not leaving survivors, the Spine Guardians advanced with more of the Mother’s children and gunned down the small greenskins.  They fell one by one to the claws and teeth of her children until none remained standing.

As the vibrant orange morning sun washed over the aliens casting long shadows of the swarm over the battlefield they moved on rushing to reactivate the device. Soon he thought, remembering what he had seen at the initial site of the Hive’s arrival “They will grow large enough to devour this world, the Lords will stride across this planet, each step a toll on the bell of destruction.”

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