Ork stories

Pulsa fer Yoooo. An' a Pulsa fer Yooooo Glades of Tranquility, Planet of Enidoria Nasea Cluster Sector -0.425 " 'Kay, ya grots, lissen up," Grishnak was pacing back and forth in the shade of the small rocky crag. He paused in his instructions to look down at the springy turf under his armored feet. Then he looked at the towering trees that seemed to soar up into the bright blue sky on all sides. Enidoria had once been an Imperial agro world before the Empire had been forced to pull out of this sector thousands of years ago. It was a lot wetter than Karos or Tatoonie, and so there would be no problem with sand or dust. But it was boring, with its stately array of upright trees. A small grin momentarily moved over Grishnak's face as he decided that part of his new mission was going to be to knock down a few upright trees. The big warboss shook his head and swung back around to glare at the line of grots sitting in a fidgety line before him. " 'Ere's the deal, ya bleeders. We's found some supplies dat belong to doze 'ard 'umies, da Iron Hands. Dey mus' be runnin' low on ammo an' stuff, an Brukk found a big grav platform loaded wit dat kind o' junk. So we's gonna set an M-bush fer'em, see?" The Gretchin stared blankly back up at their warboss. Several cocked curious heads to the side, but several others were routing around in each others' noses, completely oblivious to Grishnak's tirade. The crack of a single pistol shot rang out over the quiet glade, sending several brightly colored birds scattering into the tranquil sky and one Gretchin, neatly holed in the forehead, tumbling gently to the loam, one little finger still lodged in his nostril. The rest of the grots suddenly became far more interested in what Grishnak had to say. The warboss stood over the gits, smoke from his pistol curling around his daemonic face, and waited for the little monsters to be completely still before continueing. " 'Kay, now lissen up." He kneeled down in the mud and began to draw out a sketch map of the valley before them. "We's gonna set up in dis big clump o' trees here. Da crate's right in front o' dese woods, so we'll be real close when we makes our move." Grishnak looked up from his muddy map to see the rest of the Gangstahz lounging some distance away, smoking and joking. Brukk was instructing his kommandos on some obtuse tactic or other, Lew seemed to be telling a joke to all the Bad Moon ladz, using a terrified, half pulverized squig as a visual aid. The Snakebites were napping, curled up with their mounts in a honest-to-Gork real live muddle puddle. The barbarian boar riders were probably the only Orks really happy with their new battle site. "Hey, youse guyz git over 'ere!" Grishnak stood up and brandished his bolt pistol in the general direction of the warband. The Orks began to saunter over in a great show of how much of a hurry they weren't in, and Grishnak fought the impulse to cap one of them just to make a point. When they were all gathered around the map, he knelt back down again and resumed his briefing. "Now, doze 'ard 'umies 're gonna want dat crate bad, an' after everting Nazdreg's tol' me 'bout dere commander, he's gonna try ta sneak 'round a flank an' come at da crate from behin' us. So I wan' you ladz from da Gitburnahz ta hide behin' dis wall on da lef', and I wan Lew an' his nobz hidin' in dese woods on da right. Da res' of us'll hide in dese woods an' behin dis liddel mountain right dere," he gestured at the hill casting its shadow over the meeting. "Now, since we don't know which way da main group o' 'umies is gonna come, Brukk'll need ta take 'is boyz out ta scout out dere locashun, 'kay?" Most of the Orks nodded vaguely, but Brukk was looking at Grishnak with a very strange light in his eye. Grishnak glanced around to see that every ugly green head was nodding, and stopped when he came to Brukk. "Wut, Blood Axe?" The light did not leave Brukk's eyes as he responded. "Y'errr uzing taticz, Grrishnak. A ztanarrd pinzerr trrap, uzing ze bulk ov za Gangstahz az an anvil." An evil smile lit up the huge kaptin's features. "Nazdrreg could not have come up wiz a betterr plan." Grishnak stared at the kommando kaptin for a moment, suspicion foremost in his over-taxed brain. "What're tatics?" Brukk's smile grew wider. "Y'errr uzing a plan, bozz. Y've made a Plan." Suddenly Grishnak felt like his head was going to bust. Why was it that whenever he talked with Brukk he felt like he was thinking too hard. Him? Orky warboss Grishnak, make a plan? Not Gorkity likely! With fierce shake of his head he dismissed Brukk's assertions and looked back at the warband as a whole. " 'Kay, now da Iron Hands has gots two o' doze ded 'ard 'umie dreadnoughts, so we'z gotta get clever ta take 'em out. Dats where you grots comes in." He looked back down at his original line of Gretchin. "Doze Pulsa Rokkits o' Joko's is gonna be our secrit wepin. If either o' doze dreads gets at us, we're not gonna be able ta stop 'em from gettin' dat crate. So you Pulsa gits has got ta take out doze mashines afore da rest of us can do anyting. ya gots dat?" All of the Gretchin were furiously nodding their heads fit to knock them off. Grishnak towered over the little green creatures for a moment before turning to where Joko the mekboy and Hindy the runtherd stood at the side of the warband. "Youse two get some extra fuse cord an' have dese bleeders practice an' practice 'till yere sure dey'll nail doze 'umie gitz. De ONLY target fer da Pulsas gots ta be da dreads. Now go." The two oddboyz shuffled off, dragging a recalcitrant Gretchin between them. Grishnak turned back towards the rest of his warband. "Now ever'body get ready. Dese 'umie's 've been rippin' ever'body in da cluster up down an' sidewise, dey ain't gonna be push overs. Ever'body's gonna hafta do dere job're we're not gonna be able ta stop 'em an' get all da info Nazdreg wants on em. 'Kay?" Heads nodded throughout the warband. " 'Kay, den get ready." Grishnak stood in the shade while his warband dispersed and took up their assigned positions. The kommandos disappeared over a short hill towards the right, where Lew and his boys were heading. The regular boar boyz were over there as well, and Grishnak nodded at the sense they showed, guarding the longer flank of the Gangstahz' positions. Very soon now battle would be joined once again, and although he hadn't told any of his boyz, Grishnak was worried. The Iron Hands were the shootiest army in the Cluster, and if this clever trap of his didn't go off perfectly, he'd be calling Nazdreg for a lot of recruits during the next rendezvous. Grishnak was pacing back and forth in the dappled shade of a tall tree, most of his warband arrayed around him. They had been hiding in these woods for what seemed like hours, with no sign of the 'umies. Maybe they didn't know their crate was here? Grishnak's annoyance built at the thought that his plan might be wrecked because some stupid 'umie commander didn't know where his supplies were. After a moment the warboss realized he had used the 'P' word, even in his own head, and he looked around guiltily to see if any of his ladz had seen any sign of it. What was happening to him? Making Plans, using Tactics . . . A cold fear deeper than any caused by any mortal foe blew in Grishnak's Orky heart. What was he becoming? "Uh, boss?" Bugeyez tugged diffidently on Grishnak's elbow. The warboss, startled out of his train of thought, jerked his arm away and almost back handed the doc before controlling himself. "Wut?" "Dat scanner you gave me is beepin' again." The doc showed the warboss the rusty piece of junk, peering owlishly up at Grishnak trying to gauge his reaction. Grishnak pulled the scanner out of Bugeyez' hand and glared at it. Sure enough, a series of red blips flashed out of a small clump of woods ahead and a little to the right of the forest hiding the warband. A cruel smirk curled Grishnak's lips as he looked down at the doc. "Scouts." Bugeyez cocked his head in confusion, but Grishnak was already moving towards Gumz and the other two cyboar boyz, and the doc was forced to scurry after. The Snakebites were lounging around a mud puddle where their mounts wallowed in porcine bliss. Grishnak showed Gumz the scanner. The barbarian nob answered Grishnak's grin with one of his own, and signalled his ladz to saddle up. The cyboar nobz began to move as stealthily as possible towards the edge of the forest facing the marine scouts' position. Grishnak watched over their shoulders, trying to pierce the shadows under those smaller trees where he knew the marines were hiding. "Commanderr, ve have found ze enemy." The sharp voice almost startled Grishnak as it suddenly burst into his ear. "Eh?" "Zis is Brukk's Numbah One Kommando, an' ve've found ze 'umies." A savage gleam ignited deep in Grishnak's eyes. "All of 'em?" "Ve've got two drreadnoughts, a 'umie in terrminatorr arrmorr, and lots ov 'eavy veapons." Grishnak barked in delight. " 'Re dey all togever?" "Affirrmative, vorrboss. Ze'rre all togezerr behind a clump ov trrees." Grishnak whirled around and pointed his massive power claw at the Gretchin crew of the first Pulsa Rokkit, bloodthirsty glee flashing from his eyes. "LAUNCH DA ROKKIT!!!" Grishnak could not believe his good fortune. Nazdreg had warned him that this 'umie had some trick for finding his enemies and had never been surprised before. Well, he'd been surprised now! The gibbering Gretchin snipped a little bit off the rokkit's fuse and ignited it with a little gadget Joko had made for them. Even as the wick burned down Grishnak whirled again and pointed at the distant copse of trees harboring the clueless scouts. "CHARGE!!!" The cyboars pounded out of the forest as the crump-whoosh of a launching rokkit exploded behind them. The rokkit ripped out of the trees, trailing burning twigs and leaves in its wake. The Nightwingz swung around the big hill towards the position Brukk had given them, and the searchlight mounted on the lead bike sent out a bright beam that lanced the shadows in the distant clump of trees, suddenly illuminating several marines crouching there with large, shoulder-mounted weapons. "Dirrect hit wiz za pulsa!" Brukk's voice was gutteral with excitement. "Ze pulsa iz povering up rright in frront of za dreadnought! I'm goin' in wiz my grenade!" Grishnak heard a roar from ahead of his army and glanced over at the copse as the cyboars disappeared into their shadowed depths, the Snakebite nobz roaring challenges from their wildly pitching backs. For a moment there was no sign of movement, then the trees in the center of the forest began to shake prodigally. Leaves, twigs and whole branches flew out into the sunshine, followed shortly by the broken bodies of several lightly-armored 'umies. Soon the three cyboar riders burst out of the other side of stand of trees and ran straight for another small forest opposite Grishnak's position. "Yeeaaaggghhhh, I missed!" Brukk screamed out over the comm. line. "Aahhaaaa! But ze pulsa got 'em all! Ze entire 'umie forrce has . . . uh oh." The stuttering roar of a heavy bolter shattered Brukk's report, hurting the ears of every Ork with an audio feed. "Aahhh, Brukk iz down, vorrboss. Ve're taking 'eavy firre frrom two beakie bikes. Ze drreads 'rre startin' ta get up, too." Grishnak became aware that Bugeyez was pulling at his elbow again. "WUTT?!?" "Uh, boss," the doc held up his scanner again. "De're 're more marines over dere." He gestured towards a bunch of bushes on a small hill overlooking the crate. Grishnak squinted and dialed his eye to zoom, but he could see nothing. "Yere sure?" The doc nodded. Grishnak pressed a stud on his wrist and changed his frequency to the Nightwingz'. "Youze guyz put yere beam on doze bushes." At once a glaring flash illuminated five marines crouching in the shadows. Seeing that they were no longer hiden, they stood up and took aim at the Gretchin that Hindy was leading towards the crate. "Get 'em!" Grishnak yelled into the general frequency, and most of the warband swung around towards the five marines on the left flank. Da Kan ran past, pounding towards the hill that the Gitburnahz were holding up behind now that they could see the marines. "An' fire dat uver rokkit!" From behind the big hill to the right came another crump-whoosh as the warband's second pulsa sailed up towards the dreadnoughts. Over the comm. one of the Nightwingz yelled out, "One of da dread's jus' went down! In a big pile o'-" A loud bang interrupted the report, and then a series of jarring metallic screeches and grinding noises, then the wump of an explosion. On the left flank the marines lashed the Gretchin screen with more fire than five surprised marines should have been able to throw, but only four of the little bleeders fell. The rest of the screen boyz looked at their fallen comrades, then turned and fled back into the woods. Grishnak felt a burning anger building within him. He let 'umies surprise him! "Ever'body, GET THEM!" "Boss, dis is Lew. We've taken care o' dere bikes, but da 'umie in da terminator armor is chewin' through wuts left of da kommandos." "Who cares! Jus' see if ya c'n get a shot at da last dread." "Uh, um, sure, boss." Grishnak went back to looking up the hill where the five marines still held out. Da Kan and the Gitburnahz had shredded the foliage around them, but had been unable to do any damage. The boarboyz were pounding by on their way towards the crate, and Hindy was trying his best to talk the Gretchin into going back out into the threatening sunshine. Grishnak's fury got the better of him, and he fired a salvo from Wolfbighta into the milling mob of grots. "I said GET THEM!!!!!!!!" Suddenly every Ork in the mob fired up at the marines in the bushes. Heavy bolter fire shredded the foliage, lascannons ignited furious brush fires. Plasma bolts from the Gitburnahz burned through the smoke and swirling ash to thrash the hill top with the fury of suns. When the smoke cleared there wasn't a marine left standing, but Gumz cyboar riders peered out from their position, waving at the band to stop firing. The boarboyz surrounded the big Imperial crate, and the entire flank turned towards the remaining marines on the far right. Da Kan fired all its weapons into the trees that had originally hidden the main marine force, the wreckage of a dreadnought still crumpled at the forest's edge. One lascannon shot decapitated a marine hiding in the shadows, sending his body tumbling down beside the war machine. "Where's da uver dread?" Grishnak demanded over the general frequency. "It was runnin fer dat big hill, boss," came Lew's reply. "And da big 'umie jus' tried to rush us, but they both suddenly stopped an' turned an' ran away." Grishnak cast a dire glare across the field, trying to see why the last 'umies would flee now. Nothing on the field indicated a change in the situation, but on a hunch the warboss looked up, and was not surprised, for some reason, to see the contrails of two landing assault craft over the battlefield. He squinted, zooming in on the lead craft. Bayne? Here? Grishnak focused on the pursuing craft and was even more surprised to see the Blood Angels lander that had arrived on the battlefield on Karos at the end of his battle with Bayne. Who was following who? " 'Kay, boyz." Grishnak called out over the general freq. again. "Time to bug out. Gumz, 'ave yere boyz get da crate. Lew, go fetch Brukk. We don' wanna be 'ere when doze two gits get 'ere." And so Grishnak's Gangstahz prepared to move out again, Orks and Gretchin scurrying about in purposeful chaos. Grishnak watched his ladz absentmindedly and suddenly caught himself