The
Greenwater Bargain
The
crump of distant detonations brought another shower of debris down
onto the central command holo-display as Ethereal Aun'Tyras consulted
with his commanders. Even the Fire Caste's stubborn devotion to their
master could not completely hide the air of desperation in the
bunker.
“I see
that the tactical situation is most dire, Shas'O Revas.” observed
the Ethereal, serene even in the face of danger.
“Indeed,
Honoured Ethereal.” replied the Commander. “The forces of this
Gue'la renegade, the so-called 'Drakash the Corruptor' continue to
make rapid advances throughout sectors one-alpha-seven to
six-theta-three. Tactical projections place their heavy weapon teams
within firing range of the main space-port in three standard days,
and our time to full civilian evacuation at five days. Complete
military and logistical evacuation adds two more days to that
estimate.”
“What
if we were to evacuate only essential civilian and military
personnel, and destroy all remaining equipment and infrastructure?”
asked a junior officer. Revas opened his mouth to reply, but the
Ethereal slapped his rod of office down on the command desk with a
sharp rap.
“Unacceptable.
We serve the Greater Good. No son or daughter of Tau is expendable or
non-essential. You-” he pointed at the officer “might one day
devise the greatest new strategic treatise the Empire has ever seen.
Any Earth Caste technician may be the one to save billions with an as
yet undiscovered advance. No, we shall hold the Gue'la here until
evacuation is complete, even if I must step forth and humble this
Drakash in a personal duel to do it.”
“Perhaps
it will not come to that, Honoured Ethereal.” came a voice from the
doorway. It was a smooth, reasonable, warming tone, that belonged to
a Tau in the robes of the Water Caste.
“Por'O
Tash, greetings.” replied Aun'Tyras. “What bounty can the Water
Caste pour into this desert of peril? The seedlings of victory seem
parched indeed.”
The tall
Tau strode over to the holo-display. “Faithful one, show region
kappa-sigma-four.”
The
simple AI responded, shifting the display to show an ugly, red,
skull-like icon.
“That
is the main encampment of Drakash the Corruptor, Exalted Champion in
the service of the Gue'la renegade lord, Khorne.”
Aun'Tyras
nodded. “And you have opened negotiations with this Lord Khorne?”
Por'O
Tash shook his head. “Sadly, this is impossible. Lord Khorne is not
here, and may even be a figment of Drakash's imagination. He seems to
be under the impression that he must collect body parts and vital
fluids as tithe for his lord-” he held up a hand against the
inevitable question “and I have already established that these
parts, notably skulls and blood, must be taken forcibly. Offers of
donations from willing and infirm Tau were met with an exceptionally
negative response... I am now the only living member of the Water
Caste on the planet.”
The
other Tau exchanged nervous glances.
“However.”
said Por'O Tash, scrolling the display. “We did find this.”
The holo
now showed another icon, this one an even more crude-looking skull
design, in green.
“Be'gel!”
spat Shas'O Revas. “They are as bad as the Gue'la- worse! They live
only to fight!”
“Indeed.”
agreed the diplomat. “However, there is one crucial difference.
These Be'gel are of the Blood-Axe Caste, a clan known for accepting
mercenary work. They have fought for the cause of the Gue'la in the
past, but dislike the renegade faction, who they call 'bug-eyez' or
'spiky boyz'. They are also trapped on this planet due to the recent
crash of their vessel. I believe that the offer of weapons and parts
for their ship should be sufficient to convince them to attack
Drakash. I would caution that should they win, they will be unlikely
to cease fighting and will almost certainly attack the city, but I
would suspect this will buy us at the very least three more days for
the evacuation.”
“I
concur with your analysis, Por'O Tash.” said the Ethereal. “I
suggest you proceed to contact these.. Orks. Will communication be a
problem?”
Por'O
Tash bowed. “Thank you, Honoured Ethereal, and fear not, I am
fluent in their language.”
Kaptin
Hedrukk stood on the command deck of his personal Stompa,
Megakrushakrusha, and fumed. The lads were getting restless.
Since their Kroozer, Da Skullrokkit, had crash-landed on this
miserable planet they had found almost nothing to fight, and hardly
any scrap. Even the squigs had been slow to breed, and a fair few
Grots and Snots had ended up getting eaten by peckish Boyz. Even
worse, his personal Grot, Drekkit, hadn't been one of them. His mood
wasn't improved by the little git banging open the door.
“Wot?”
roared the Kaptin.
“Got a
prisoner, Boss!” crowed Drekkit. “Ladz are bringing 'im up 'ere
now.”
“Wot
do I care?” shouted Hedrukk “Just krump the git and go find 'is
mates so we can get a proper fight going!”
“I
believe I can help you with that, old chap.” came a voice from
behind him. The Kaptin turned to find a skinny, blue-grey creature
that seemed to have two hugely long ear-stalks and a single large
foot, in the clutches of a couple of sturdy Nobz. Realisation struck.
“Oi!
You've got that lanky git the wrong way up.”
“Oh
yeah. Sorry Boss.”
“Right,
now then. Wot d'you mean, you can help? You couldn't say boo to a
Grot, ya git!”
Drekkit
snorted with laughter. The Kaptin, still in a foul temper, rounded on
him.
“Oi!
Are you laughin' at me?”
“Nah,
boss, I'm Drekkit. Laafinatme was that pointy-ear boss you scragged a
while back.”
Hedrukk
grinned. That had been a good fight, though he didn't remember asking
the pointy-ear his name when he was bouncing his face off the deck of
Megakrusha. He still missed that Gorkanaut, but he had to
admit it was fun stomping on it.
“Ahem.”
said the lanky git. “As I was saying, old bean, I am Por'O Tash,
and I-”
“Nah.”
said Hedrukk, cutting him off. “That's a poncy name.”
“E's a
thin little git, Boss.” said one of the Nobz.
“Yeah,
'e is. Right, yer name is Fin-Git. Talk, or I let the Grot krump ya.”
To his
credit, Fin-Git didn't flinch. “Righto, good show, Boss, Fin-Git it
is! So, thing is, there's a mob of those Spiky Boyz a short hop from
here, and let me tell you, they're giving our Boyz a right and proper
thrashing. We can't fight for toffee, to tell the truth! So, I said
to my mates, I hear there's a mob of really strapping Orks in the
neighbourhood who could hit these bally rotters for six any day of
the week, and do you know what? They didn't believe me! Not one bally
word! So I said well, you know what, I'll jolly well go and ask them,
you see if I don't!”
Hedrukk
was still trying to make head-or-tail of what the skinny alien was
yammering about, but one thing definitely stuck in his head- Fin-Git
knew where to find something to fight. Still, Kaptin Hedrukk wasn't
about to do someone else's work like a Grot unless there was
something in it for him.
“Yeah,
so wot? Why should we go krump these gits, eh?”
The
larger of the two Nobz looked confused. “Er, Boss? They'z Spiky
ladz, why not go krump 'em? Might be a laugh!”
Without
apparent effort, Hedrukk reached over, seized the Nob by the throat,
and kicked him hard in the 'urtybitz before flinging the groaning
mass out of the nearest view-port.
“I'm
in charge, ya git, and don't you forget it!” he shouted down at the
crumpled heap. He turned back to Fin-Git. “Well? Wot's in it for
me?”
“Oh,
well, you see we do have this big city, and it's full of all sorts of
widgets and gubbins and bitz, don'tcha know. Piles and piles of gunz,
too- I expect that's why the Spiky ladz want it. We're... going away
for a while, got to see a man about a squig and all that, so if you
were to decide to, well, loot the place silly, we really wouldn't
mind at all! Of course, if you don't think your chaps can handle a
few red Spiky Boyz...”
“Red
Spiky Boyz, eh?” said Hedrukk. Those were the best kind, the kind
that were always up for a scrap. Not like the smelly ones, or the
weird pink ones with bitz where bitz shouldn't be. He whirled,
suddenly, catching Drekkit grinning with excitement at the prospect.
“Oi!
Are you grinnin'?”
“Nah,
Boss, I'm Drekkit. Grinnin runs that squig stall down by the drops.”
“Cor,
that's the best one!” said the remaining Nob. “Boss, can I nip
off and get a bite?”
“Shut
it, ya git, or you best hope yer mate gives you a softer landing than
'e got.”
“Sorry,
Boss.”
“You
will be. Right then, Fin-Git, you and your ladz have got a deal.
We'll go krump the Spiky Boyz, and your lot will zog off and leave us
a nice big pile 'o gunz for all our bother.”
“Top
hole!” said Fin-Git, producing a simple map. “Here's the location
of the camp, I'll just nip off and make the arrangements, shall I?”
He held out a hand for Hedrukk to shake. The Kaptin grabbed it, and
delivered a thunderous headbutt that laid the lean alien out flat on
the floor.
“Nah.
Yer coming with us, in case yer mates get any funny ideas.”
The
world was bouncing up and down in a most disagreeable fashion when
Por'O Tash finally recovered his senses. A large Ork, not as big as
Hedrukk but considerably uglier, was shining a painfully bright light
in his face.
“'E
ain't dead, Boss.” announced the Ork. “Want me to give 'im a shot
'o fightin' juice just in case? Precautionary medicine, it's all the
rage.”
“I can
see that, ya git. You can put that squig down right now or you'll be
getting a kicking you won't forget.”
The
Painboy grinned. “Right you are, Boss. Now then, that'll be two
teef for patchin' 'im up.”
“Wot?
You didn't do anyfin' to 'im, ya cheeky runt!”
“'E's
alive, ain't 'e? That was my extra-speshul runt-fixing shiny light,
very teknical. Two teef.”
Hedrukk
suddenly lashed out with a massive blow that sent the other Ork
sprawling on the heaving decking. Several of the Dok's teeth were
sent flying by the impact, one of them pinging off the rusty bulkhead
next to Por'O Tash. The Gretchin, Drekkit, scurried to gather them
up.
“Pay
the lad, Drekkit.” said the Kaptin. “'Ere, Fin-Git! That Spiky
camp was a full day's stomp away, so I sent some Speed Freaks on
ahead all kunnin-like to scout 'em out.”
Por'O
Tash shook the cobwebs from his head, and forced himself to stand up,
clinging to a railing to keep his balance. “Top hole, good show,
and all that! Did they find the rotters?”
Hedrukk
clapped him so hard on the back that he felt his left shoulder pop
out. “That they did, my lad. Look!”
Through
the open port-hole, Por'O Tash could see the dawn breaking over the
distant horizon. What beauty the scene might have possessed was
marred by palls of oily black smoke rising from the encampment of
Drakash the Corruptor. Here and there, the speeding shapes of
buggies, wartrakks and deffkoptas flitted about, accompanied by
bright orange flashes of weapons fire.
“'Course
they got stuck in right away.” said Hedrukk, proudly. “That's my
Boyz!”
“So,
it's done, then?” said Por'O Tash with some relief. “Drakash is
defeated?”
“Nah!”
chuckled Hedrukk. “If that were it, I'd krump those gits for havin'
all the fun.” He pointed to the horizon, on which could dimly be
seen the towers of the Tau city. “See that big cloud 'o dust?
That's Boss Drak-arse and his Spiky Boyz comin' ter see who's krumped
their trukks and set their grub on fire, and I reckon 'e's gonna be
pretty zogged off when 'e finds out.”
“So,
the big scrap is still to come then, eh?” said Por'O Tash with as
much apparent enthusiasm as he could muster.
“Yeah.”
said Hedrukk in a slow, anticipatory tone that chilled the diplomat
to the core. “This is gonna be fun.”
“Put
that zoggin' fire out!” roared Hedrukk. It had been a good fight,
but the veteran Warboss could feel the end coming. The humies had
fought well- the beakies always did, and the Spiky Boyz even more so-
but the sheer number of Orks coupled with the horrifying fire-power
of Megakrushakrusha had proved decisive. The only thing left
in the Chaos warband of any note was the big red battlewagon with
zzap gunz on either side, which had now launched a head-on assault on
Hedrukk's personal Stompa, weapons punching holes in the armour as it
came.
“Nice
wagon, that.” commented Hedrukk. “Shame if someone stood on it or
something. Stompin' speed!”
Megakrushakrusha lurched
forwards, deffkannon roaring, excited Boyz clinging on for all they
were worth. The oncoming battlewagon disappeared from sight beneath
the view-port, and there was a deafening clang, followed by a massive
lurch as the Stompa shuddered to a halt. All the lights went out.
“Emergency
power!” roared Hedrukk.
“Emergency
power busted, Kaptin.” reported one of the Meks. “Lever came off
in me hand again. I'll fetch me hammer.”
Hedrukk
snarled, and snatched up the speaky-tube. “Oi! Engine room! Wot's
going on down there, ya runty gits?”
“That
big red wagon's stuck in the engines, Boss!” came the muffled
reply. “Them Spiky Boyz are- Oi! That's me leg!”
Hedrukk
flung the tube away in disgust. “Repel boarders, ya gits! Start up
me mega-armour! Arm the Grots!” He gave Drekkit a hard stare. “Not
you, ya runt. You and Fin-Git help me get dressed.”
“M-me,
old chap?” stammered Fin-Git, his robes now torn and stained black
with soot. “Er, not sure I really know all the technical stuff, old
bean, not really a boffin...”
“Shut
it!” roared Hedrukk, shrugging into the core harness of his armour.
“Just bolt the bitz on!”
Somehow,
between Drekkit, who actually seemed to know what he was doing, and
the Tau, who simply tried to follow the little creature's lead, they
managed to get most of the bulky metal plates onto the heavy frame,
though whether any were in the right place was anyone's guess. As
Hedrukk flexed his huge power-klaw, Drekkit scampered over to
retrieve his shoota from the wall-rack. Suddenly, with a deafening
boom, the bridge door was kicked open and a squad of power-armoured
figures stormed in, bolt pistols blazing and axes hacking. The Boyz
roared and surged to meet them, Hedrukk at their head. The Chaos
leader, shouldering a path towards Hedrukk, found his path blocked by
the panicking Drekkit and savagely kicked the Grot out of the way.
“OI!”
roared the Kaptin, so loudly and with such fury that both sides
briefly paused to stare at him. “THAT'S ME GROT! NOBODY KICKS ME
GROT BUT ME! WAAAAAAAAAGH!”
Por'O
Tash thought he had seen Kaptin Hedrukk angry, but he realised, in
the seconds of savagery that followed, that he had seen no such
thing. The Gue'la champion got in two, maybe even three strikes of
his glowing axe before the Kaptin seized him in the klaw that had
seemed an almost comically clumsy weapon mere moments before, and
then he simply came apart under the Ork's furious assault. Still
raging, Hedrukk rampaged through the fight, and warriors who Por'O
Tash had seen tear Crisis suits limb-from-limb were massacred like
Vespid larvae in a Kroot camp. The diplomat resolved, if he survived
this, to never call the alien auxiliaries 'savages' again- the word
had simply been redefined. And yet, that this great and terrible rage
had been brought about by concern for a smaller, weaker comrade made
Por'O Tash wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had misjudged the Orks.
Perhaps, with time, they could be made to understand the Greater
Good, could be Be'gel no longer. Regardless, he had achieved his
primary mission- the Gue'la had been destroyed and the Orks, their
vehicles mostly disabled, would take several more days to threaten
the city, and all they would find there would be obsolete, burned-out
weapons and worthless junk. He had done good work for the Empire this
day.
A year later...
“Steady,
ya gits! Forward slow!”
Kaptin
Hedrukk stood on the command bridge of the Gargant,
Megakrushakrushakrusha, overseeing the delicate operation of
loading the massive war machine into the hold of Skullrokkit 2.
All around, the Orks of Waaaaa-Hedrukk were gathering, leaving
their crude shacks in the shells of what had been the Tau city. He
had a lot to thank the skinnies for- not only had they showed his
ladz where to find the best fight they'd had in ages, but the amount
of useful gubbinz they had left behind had sent the Meks into
raptures. On top of that, the skinnies had even sent a bunch of their
ladz over a while later for a bit of a scrap, although Fin-Git had
been right- they were a bit runty. Nice gunz, though, and it had been
a laugh chasing them about.
It was a
shame they had had to junk Megakrushakrusha, but he had to
admit it had been fun stomping on it.
“Now I
am become Deff.” muttered Hedrukk, to no-one in particular. He
suddenly noticed Drekkit hanging about nearby.
“Oi!”
he roared. “Are you listenin'?”
“Nah,
Boss, I'm Drekkit.” came the immediate reply. “Lisnin's- oh zog,”
“Gotcha,
ya little git!” crowed Hedrukk, snatching up the struggling Grot
and drop-kicking him out of the view-port. “That's what ya get fer
not payin' attention!”
He
listened with some relish to the wet splat as the Grot landed, and
then grinned with savage pride as the Ork horde struck up the
traditional marching song.
“'Ere we go, 'ere we
go, 'ere we go....”
[HISTORICAL
NOTE: The Orks of Waaaaa-Hedrukk destroyed two Third-Sphere sept
worlds before they were last sighted in the Farsight Enclaves. The
final fate of Por'O Tash is not recorded.]
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