Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.
Here is the next chapter. Short, I know, but I wanted to at least get something out this weekend, while I am working on other projects.
Enjoy!
In the dead of night, roughly at midnight, the area surrounding the S.T. lab was quiet. With the silent drone of crickets and the like, it would seem that it was all alone at S.T. . Not for long.
Unkle peeked out of his bush disguise, looking around. He saw no one. Humming the mission impossible theme song, he quickly picked the bush up, and ran to the wall of the lab. He sat down, and waited. No one, he thought to himself, as he pulled out a scrappy looking gun. He pointed it up, and fired. A thick cloud of smoke erupted out of the gun, as an oily and greasy wire and grapple, that flung upwards. Unkle dug the gun into the ground, and waited. And waited. And waited.
Unkle looked at his watch and sighed, patiently waiting for the grapple hook to hit the roof, and for it to stick onto something. He tapped his foot, and began to cut his nails with his knife while he was waiting. Finally, as he was done with one of his hands, his grappel gun barked and kicked and screamed, as it had finally launched onto something. Unkle grabbed the wire, and began to climb. He pressed a button on the side of his boots. Small amounts of toilet plungers slid out of the sole. He then began to climb up the wall. Each step he took, a rather noisy plop sound was created. And the wall was pretty zogging high.
"Just a bit more…" He grumbled, as he continued to climb upwards. Finally, the toilet plungers on his feet gave, just as he scrambled up to the roof, and kicked the grapple hook. It became unlodged, and it fell down to the ground. Unkle shook the leaves out of his uniform, making sure all of his weapons, tools, and new gadgets were in place.
"Roight, part b. Get in." He grumbled, as he looked around. Finally, he grinned, seeing a vent. He took out a crowbar, and dug it in, pulling out several bolts that held the grate in. He ripped out the grate, and shoved it aside. He rubbed his hands, cackled, and took a few steps back, before he ran forward, and slid in.
"Zogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzog!" He whispered, as the velocity of the swirling vent propelled him forward. It was rather cramped, but Unkle managed to squeeze his crowbar into his hands, and then shove it down at the next grate. It stopped his movement entirely, the strength of which he hit it so hard that the grate was ripped out. Unkle fit his legs into the gap, and leaped down, falling right on a janitor. The janitor was pushing a cart full of cleaning chemicals. Cleaning chemicals that fell on the olds man face.
"My eyes!" He shouted in pain, as bleach and peroxide spilled all over his face. Unkle put him out of his suffering, by shoving a knife in his throat.
"Damn humies." He grumbled, pulling himself up. He wiped off any stray chemicals on his coat, before he looked at the body. He had to get rid of it. Unkle sighed, as he wrapped his arms around the humie, and looked around for a good hiding spot. Finally, he had found one.
Unkle spent the next five minutes trying to shove the dead janitor into the trash bin next to the faculty room. It was extremely difficult, as it really didn't help that the janitor was, rather pudgy.
"Come on fatty, get in!" He growled, as he spat in his hands, and gave him one last shove. His legs gave way, as he had finally squashed his entire body into the trash bin. Unkle sighed, wiping his brow of sweat.
"Dat wuz hard." He said, sighing. He went over to one of the coffee machines, and quickly bought himself an iced coffee. A caramel mocha.
Unkle shoved the bendy straw into his mouth, loudly slurping it, as he quickly ran to the security office, where he would find all of the cameras and the like.
As he ran, he realized that he was running right into a group of guards. A group of nearly ten.
Unkle tried to stop himself from sliding, but decided that he could use it to his advantage. He slid right past the guards, and threw his now finished iced coffee at one of them. The straw gouged his left eye out, leaving the guard screaming.
"Doi humies!" Unkle cackled, as he pulled out two sluggas. He open fired with the recently bought humie weapons, filling several of the guards with lead. However, even with humie technology, his aim was awful, as he was wildly swinging them around, instead of actually holding them straight. One of the guards ran to press the alarm button, when Unkle activated his mini teleporter.
The ork teleported right inside of the guard, instead of the intended target, which was in front of the humie. The humies skeleton was vaporized by the warp energy of the teleporter, and the lightning bolt that followed made his body explode, showering the guards that still lived with gore. Unkle pulled out his two handed axe, and cut into the guards that still lived. He decapitated one, while he smashed the axe into the other's knee, hitting it so hard that he nearly chopped off his leg. Unkle ripped the axe out, as the guard fell screaming. Unkle stopped, standing right behind him, as he put the axe over his shoulder like a golf club. He brought it down, slowly aligning it right to the humies skull, and then swung with all of his power. The results were gory, as the man's head was split open like a cantaloupe, spilling bone chips, brain matter, and lots and lots of blood all over the place.
"Hole in un!" Unkle hooted, wiping his coat of blood. He shook his hand, spilling the cardinal fluid all over the ground.
"Dat… dat wuz fun. Now, where were we?" He said aloud, as he began to quite literally hack the security systems to pieces. Anything in that room was not safe from Unkle's wild swings of his axe, until nothing was either bisected, or utterly wrecked.
Unkle tossed the ruined axe aside, and rubbed his hands, grabbing a large report of all of the facilities and individual research this laboratory was conducting. He looked it over, before he sighed.
"Marine Biology. Dis facilitee is speculized in marine biology... Da hell am I gonna do with fish? I can just hand it over to dose squinty eyes and get sushi! Da zog is da point?!" He shouted, and threw the report down. One lonely page floated out of the file, landing right on his shoe. Unkle looked at it, and snatched it. He held it up to his face, examining it more closely.
"Portal gun eh?" He said softly. He then growled, shoving the paper into the pocket, remembering the room number.
"Stupid humies. Dey dont know how to make a tellyporta roight and propa!" He shouted in anger. They probably stole some of his own idea!
Unkle then ran out, as he began to try and locate the laboratory that held this portal gun.
After a couple of minutes of searching around, mainly by running, and by using what juice was left in his pocket tellyporta, he had found the room. Room 151811. He shoved it open, looking around. Computers, filing cabinets, and other things.
But as he looked around some more, Unkle paused. Standing in a glass case on a podium, was a strange looking device.
"Wot an intricate lookin devoice. I probably shuldnt touch it." He said aloud. Unkle looked at the camera, and shrugged.
"Eh, whooze gonna stop me?" He asked, chuckling, as he glanced back at the case, and smashed it open with his elbow. The glass shattered, sprinkling shards of glass spilling all over the floor. The orks greasy paws snatched the device up eagerly. He looked it over slowly. He noticed it had a trigger.
Unkle pointed the thing at a wall, and pulled the trigger. Golden light spewed out of the device's barrel, and it coated the wall. It semi formed into a golden oval. Unkle lowered the device, and walked over to the golden circle. He tried to put his hand through it, but it didn't work. The ork snarled, throwing the thing to the ground.
"Useless!" He shouted, before he paused. It had fired another splot of golden energy up onto the roof. Another golden circle appeared. Both of them hollowed themselves out, revealing… the other side.
Unkle grabbed the crumpled up map from his pocket, and chucked it through the hole. It disappeared. Unkle looked up, to see the paper ball falling from the hole in the roof, and then fall onto the ground. The ork looked at the device on the ground, and then grinned savagely.
"Well den. Maybe yoo aint so useless." Unkle grumbled, as he scooped up the gun. He cradled it in his arms, and looked at it, before he planted a smooch right on the barrel. He regretted it immediately, as he had burned his lips.
"Zog, zog." He shouted, rubbing his lips. He stowed the gun away, as he heard police sirens. Unkle grinned, as he pulled out several chunky blocks of homemade C4 (except he called it Ork 4) and tossed them around the laboratory. Unkle pulled out a tellyporta pad from his coat, and threw it, as he grabbed two detonators. With the press of one, he was teleported back to his new mansion. And with the second, he detonated the bombs. Unkle heard faintly in the distance the booming sound of his toys blowing up, before the ork chuckled.
Nibbla looked up, seeing his master, before he settled his head back. The Hive Tyrant was watching the current of the waves, and was lazily gobbling up food that his Rippers had collected.
"Nibbla, get yer lazy arse up. We got work ta do." Unkle chuckled. He then paused.
"Is dat cake still in da fridge?" He asked. Nibbla let out a hiss as confirmation.
"Gud, gud. Wouldn't want to be lying, roight?" Unkle asked sternly. Nibbla didn't say anything. Unkle decided not to press the topic.
/
Dick Grayson's funeral went well for Bruce. If the rogues gallery had any sense of honor, they showed it. Rather than a few petty crimes, committed by lowlife thugs, his main enemies didn't commit any crimes at all during his time at the funeral.
It was painful to watch Dick being lowered into the ground. It was even more painful, to know that the culprit, responsible for the murder of his sidekick… his friend… was still on the loose.
Batman had spent the entire day after hunting down the ork, trying to find where he was, and to bring him to justice, but he was gone. He was long gone. Batman, the world's greatest detective, couldn't have seemed to find him. At first.
After several more hours of fruitless searching, he got an anonymous tip from a disgruntled business man, from Alfred. One of his clients apparently, was stopped and seized at an airport for carrying weapons that he did not own. But what really gave it away as evidence, was of the guns design. Junky and scrappy, like it came from the garbage, or a STEM teachers nightmare. Batman then knew, where Unkle was. He wasn't in gotham. He was travelling.
After doing some more research, Batman guessed where the ork was. He was either in two locations. New York City, or Metropolis. It was a fifty fifty chance, but as Batman turned on the TV in the Batcave, he saw that the S.T. lab in Metropolis was destroyed. Seventy percent of the laboratory had been destroyed by homemade explosives, and the culprit was unknown. But one piece of evidence made Batman pause. He froze the TV, and slowly, very slowly rewinded the broadcast.
The newsman was displaying part of the crime scene, when Batman saw it. A small, irregular burn mark, on the ground. While the rest of the area was unmarked, that one, perfectly symmetrical spot on the ground was marked by a burn.
Batman pulled up a variety of files on Unkle. There were only a few, as he was a recent addition into the notable villains. There!
He pulled up a slideshow of the battle at the asylum. Where he lost Nightwing. Where he lost, Dick. As the ork and his beast disappeared, a golden rod of lightning struck them and the pad. Then they were gone, leaving behind several pieces of scrap… and the same burn mark as on the TV.
Batman compared the two for a few moments, before he confirmed what he was seeing. The ork was in Metropolis. The death of Dick was too much for him. He was skilled, and he was dangerous. Though Batman, sincerely did not want to do this, he NEEDED to bring this… this scum into justice.
It was with heavy amounts of uncertainty, that he called the Justice League. He stood up, and began to head to the nearest teleporter, that would take him to the watchtower. It was time, that this was put to an end. Before anyone else was hurt.
But Batman had a creeping suspicion, that this would not be his last run in with the ork. He had a creeping suspicion, that they would be the last people on the planet, before the ork gave in. But he didn't know why.
/
With a spark of red lightning, the four space marines appeared out of nowhere. They looked at each other, then down.
They then fell ten feet to the ground, and into a cramped alleyway. They bumped into each other as they fell, making an impossibly loud noise of ceramite and adamantium banging into each other, like pots and pans.
"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME YOU GREEN LITTLE SHIT." Indignatio roared, the first one to say anything in a different dimension.
"I have a burning question for you…" Rogo grumbled, sending Indignatio into a screaming and roaring mess.
"Silent. All of you." Metum growled. They all shut up, obeying their squad leader. Metum stood up, wiping the grime off of his shoulder pauldrons.
"Listen up. Our location is unknown, though Linus did say we would be on an alternate terra. This means that the locale population does not worship our sovereign lord. This means, that our presence will not be welcome here. This means, that we will stay discreet. Understand?" Metum growled. His squadmates all nodded. Metum glanced at Germael.
"Germael. Until we can pinpoint the location of the ork, we must find a suitable base of operations. Find me one, and then report." Metum stated. Germael nodded, and then stalked away, melding into the shadows.
"Indignatio. Stalk the local populace. Find out any information that should be critical." Metum stated. Indignatio nodded, as he went to start up his jetpack.
"No. That would make too much noise." Metum hissed.
"FINE. YOU FUCKS DON'T KNOW HOW TO HAVE FUN. OR GET LAID, YOU SINGLE PRINGLES." Indignatio grumbled, as he stomped away. Rogo snorted. Metum glanced at the Techmarine.
"Rogo, set up a vox channel for all of us. Communication in this mission will be critical." Metum ordered. The techmarine nodded.
"Do you want me here?" He asked. Metum nodded, as he slowly walked out, looking out the alley. Bright lights of pink and purple swamped his vision. Metum adjusted his visors polarity levels, as he looked around. Unfamiliar letters filled the sky, along with vehicles that looked like chimeras, but with wheels, that filled the roads. But one thing he could understand. A floating piece of paper skittered across the floor. He stomped on it, preventing it from moving any more. He bent down, and scooped it up, and looked it over slowly.
"Welcome to Tokyo…" He grumbled, reading it slowly aloud. He repeated the phrase.
"Vox communication established." Rogo mumbled from within his helmet. Metum nodded, tossing the paper aside.
After ten minutes of waiting, Germael and Indignation climbed down from the roofs. They jumped, landing into the ground, making an impact with the movement.
"Report." Metum growled, crossing his arms. Germael nudged his head, signalling Indignatio to go first.
"THIS PLACE IS FUCKING WEEABOO CENTRAL. WE HAVE TO BURN ALL OF THIS SHIT TO THE GROUND." The Angry Marine said firmly. Metum sighed, covering his face.
"We are here to capture a xeno. Not to commit genocide." He grumbled.
"THEY ARE FUCKING WEEABOOS YOU BAT WINGED FUCK NUT. THEY DONT COUNT AS A RACE." He replied. Metum looked up, and sighed.
"Then what do you suggest we call them?" he asked. Indignatio chuckled.
"FUEL." He grinned.
"Fuel. Always need more fuel, if you wanna brighten my day." Rogo grumbled, hoisting his flamer over his shoulder. Indignation shot him a glance.
"I AM GOING TO FUCKING STRANGLE YOU, MARK MY WORDS YOU BLACK LITTLE CUNT." Indignation challenged. Rogo chuckled.
"You're insults were always lacking. Let's see if your promises are the same." Rogo taunted. Indignatio was about to leap on the Salamander, when Metum put his hand up, lodging it firmly between Indignatio and Rogo, by slamming it into the wall. Instead of leaping at the Salamander, he instead leaped right into the Night Lords arm, stunning him. Metum then snatched the Angry Marine by the throat.
"You will cease your infighting, before I snap your neck, and hang your body by your entrails. And I will make sure that you will be still breathing." Metum growled, bringing the Angry Marine up close.
"GO SUCK A DICK. OR TEN." Indignatio spat. Metum sighed, and tossed the Angry Marine away, looking at Germael.
"I have found a suitable area that we could use as our headquarters. An abandoned storage house, lodged in some of the poorer areas of the city. Not many would suspect it, fewer would search it." He suggested. Metum nodded. He grabbed his bolter firmly in his grasp.
"We move out men." He said, as they all melded back into the shadows, and disappeared, leaving only a flying piece of paper behind.