Battle for Mehta – 04: Carbines of Blood

October 13, 2014

“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.”

Comments have been closed.
Mob Rules Mobcast © 2016