Chapta Four: Wartrakk

Chapta Four: Wartrakk

Say of Da Day: "Dats da risk of playin' scar poka." - Fergritz

Due to the scarcity of parts, a lack of vehicles, and a generally lazy attitude - none of the Orks had left the forgery for the past three days. Brudz' bike wasn't big enough to carry four Orks (two of which were Nobs), and the unfortunate Mek had be slogged with the task of producing something Oric and Jamz could ride on.

Oric studied the plan Brudz had drawn. "Yew got ta be jokin'!" he snorted in disgust, "yew wanna use me precious Tankabell ta make dis?"

"Dere aint nuthin' else I c'n use ta make somefin dat'll heft yew an' Jamz' big butts!" Brudz argued, "Me bike barely survived one big Nob!"

"Dis is 'n' insult ta Tanky!" Whinged Oric. "I won't let yer do it."

Brudz didn't win many arguments with a Nob, but she wasn't going to lose this one; at least that's what she hoped. If she did lose, she would have to think of another way to transport everyone. "Fine, walk to da waagh, I got me bike, 'n' Cezzy c'n come wiv me but no one else can. Besides, what's more insultin' to ya Tankabell? Bein' a giant scrap heap, or bein' made inta somefin' dat acshually works?"

Eventually, after reviewing the plans, and being assured that there would be plenty of guns added, Oric allowed Brudz to use the remains of his tank to construct a new vehicle. "Fine, but make sure she don't git ruined."
After folding the designs up (which looked no better than a five-year-olds picture) and stashing them in her back pocket, Brudz walked over to her tool box and flipped it open. "Spanner… hack saw… stick thing… rivet gun… phew, what's dat stink?"

Cezzy's distinct giggle-snorts echoed in the forgery. Everyone looked around and saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, with something large and squishy clutched in her hands.

"What da heck is dat?" Jamz asked, putting down the Gretchin he was going to eat. "Iz dat our lunch?"

"Hee! Hee! Hee!" Cezzy-Po giggled again maniacally. "Dis iz me latest medicle break-frew!" The Dok walked into the forgery, and sat the thing on an empty work bench. Everybody walked over to have a look.

A fleshy lump squirmed on the bench top; it appeared to be some kind of Frankenstein Ork creation. Cezzy poked at it with a scalpel, explaining, "Dis 'ere is a legless squig, which I added bits 'n' pieces to. See, it gots Ork fingahs for legz, Ork ears, an Orky toe fer a tail, 'n' I gave it an extra liver 'n' kidney."

Nobody was really sure what to say. Except for Jamz, who looked hungrily at it. "Can we eats it now?" he asked.

The squealing, grunting, experimental squig tried to clamber onto it's 'legs' but toppled over. Cezzy picked it up, and sat it on it's finger-legs. "It ain fer eatin', Jamz. 'Sides, de yer really wanna be eatin' bits of dem Deff Skullz? Dey's nasty, smelly Orks."

Jamz shrugged; he rarely cared about what he ate, as long as it was filling.

Everyone watched the squig as it walked unsteadily on its finger-legs, stepping backwards and forwards shakily. It overbalanced, and fell of the work bench, falling to the floor; it's stiches split open, and its guts popped out.
Cezzy shrieked, "Me squiggy! Me poor lil squiggy!" She got to her knees, and started stuffing the organs back into the twitching squig.

"Why's I suddenly feel all 'ungry…" Brudz wondered aloud, walking off towards the pile of scraps to start work on the vehicle.

For the rest of the day, the Orks all worked; Cezzy experimented with her squig, Jamz went to get some more beer, Brudz worked on her machine, and Oric and the Gretchin fixed the hole on the wall.

By the time night came, everyone was hungry and sleepy. The four Orks sat in the middle of the forgery (the kitchen had been turned into a laboratory thanks to Cezzy-Po, and was now a bio hazard) eating meat roasted over the molten metal tubs, and drinking fungus beer Jamz had bought with the teeth they bashed out of the heads of the dead Death Skullz boys earlier that day.

It didn't take long for the arguments to erupt; Jamz had decided that Brudz was not to have any beer until the vehicle was completed; and Cezzy-Po was restricted to two beers due to her inability to hold her drinks very well.

As soon as Jamz and Oric were virtually incapacitated due to the sheer volume of beer consumed, Cezzy approached Brudz who was sulking near a furnace to keep warm. "Hey, sis, yew wanna 'ave shome beer?"

"Dem two turd-fashed bilge-spewz drank it all, or didn't yer notice?" She snapped in reply.

Cezzy stood next to her sister by the furnace; a sly smile crept across her gob. "I kept a few teef… enough ta git us some beer." She pulled a small handful of bloody teeth from her pocket to show Brudz. "So, wadoya say, me 'n' yew go git some beer, eh?"

"Cezzy, dat would be a good idea, 'cept yews fergettin dat we is only two Orks. We run inta any of dem Deff Skullz, we'd be croaked fer sure!"

"What, yew scared?" Cezzy taunted. "Big chikin."

"I aint scared! Jus' concerned fer yer safety, yeah…"

"Yew? Scared fer me safety?" Cezzy scoffed, "Unlikely! Yer jus' bein' a coward. An' I knows a way ter ensure our safety, anyways…" She put the teeth back into her pocket, and pulled a jar out of another pocket, and unscrewed the lid.

"Dat's blue paint," Brudz said looking into the jar. "Are ya suggestin' we put dat on, and pretend ta belong to da Deff Skullz?"

"Yep!" Cezzy nodded. "But we'll also need ta change outta anyfin' red, so's we dun look suspishesh. I's got dat sorted, too. Follow me."

The sisters crept to a corner of the forge where a large messy bench stood. Cezzy quietly pulled open some drawers. Inside, were scraps of clothes. "Let's git changed, den we c'n finally git some beer."

Twenty minutes later.

None of the street lights worked; most were missing completely, or bent and broken. But that was no concern for an Ork; their cat-like eyes gave them better night vision than most un-genetically modified humans.

Brudz and Cezzy-Po walked down the street with blue faces; their red garments had been swapped for anything that would fit. Brudz wore a convict's shirt, and Cezzy wore black boots; she also took off her bandana. Neither, however, were going to leave their weapons behind.

Many other Orks were out; some drunk, some fighting, some gambling. Brudz spotted a group of Evil Sunz Orks, distinguished by their red clothing, having a face-eating competition.

"Somefin' jus' occurred to me," Brudz whispered to her sister. "What 'appens if we git into a fight wiv our real clan, da Evil Sunz? Dey won't believe we aint wiv dem Deff Skullz."

Cezzy tried to explain to her sister why it was important that they had best not be recognised by the Death Skulls, and that getting into a brawl with the Evil Sunz was a risk worth running. "We killed some o' dem Deff Skullz, so they'd likely kill us if dey recognised us. We aint killed no Evil Sunz, so dey won't be as likely to kick our 'eads in, see?"

The sisters were about to cross the street to get to the pub when a pair of large hands grabbed them on the shoulders. "Oi, where's yew two fink yer goin'?"

Cezzy and Brudz turned around; a large Nob with a blue face stood glaring down at them. He had a large gun slung on his back, a huge knife strapped to his leg, and he wore leather pants with studded leather boots and had a bare chest.

Unsure what she should say, Brudz turned to her sister, only to find the Dok was ogling the Nob from head to toe. "Snap outta it!" She said, punching her preoccupied sister.

"Ow!" Cezzy complained rubbing her side, "Why'd ya do dat?"

"Coz yew was starin' at dat Nob likes 'ee waz a carton o' beer!" Brudz hissed.

The Death Skullz Nob stood there watching as the two sisters' argument dissolved into a cat fight. The pair only stopped when he shot his gun into air, spraying empty shells over the pavement. While the pair were frozen on the spot he growled, "Aint yew pair meant ta go see Gharkhus?"

Brudz and Cezzy shook their heads without speaking.

"Den what's it yer doin?" He asked.

The sisters pointed to the pub, saying at the same time, "beer."

"Yew gettin' beer fer Gharkhus?" He questioned them.

"Look," Brudz said as politely as possible, "Yew musta mistaken us fer someone else. We aint doin' any errands for dis Gharkhus fella. We's goin to da pub, ta get beer fer ourselves."

The Nob didn't look impressed; he was about to talk, when Cezzy pipped up, "Yew wanna come?"

His expression was swift to change. "Well, a few more beers would be real good…"

"Exscuze me while I talk to me sistah 'bout somefin'…" Brudz put an arm around her sister's neck, and pulled her away from the Death Skull Nob. "Whadoya tryin' ta do? Git us killed? If 'ee finds out, we're croaked!"

The Nob walked over, and looked at them suspiciously. "Find out wha'?"

"Er…" Brudz tried to think of a believable story. "Dat we's skippin' our duties fer a few drinks…?"

Surprisingly, the Nob smirked. He leant over, saying, "I won't tell if yew don't."

Many beers later, the Orks sat at a crooked table playing scar poker; a game, where alcohol or a winning hand was the only shield between yourself and pain. Several rounds of poker would be played, and each round, the winner would drop out until only one loser was left. That unlucky loser would have to hurt themselves in whatever way had been decided for that match. Two more Death Skullz Orks had joined the sisters and the Nob, and both enjoyed scar poker very much.

Everyone had introduced themselves; the big Nob the sisters met on the street was named Fergritz; he was proficient at stabbing things, and handy with a gun. The two smaller Orks were Oglak and Murkagro, your regular slugga boyz.

"Dey all looks da same…" One of the slugga boyz muttered. In actual fact, he had his cards facing outwards and was too drunk to realise he was looking at the pattern on the back of the cards. "I finks I's gonna win dis one…"

It was the last round of poker to decide the loser; Oglak and Cezzy were pitted against each other.

"I gots a flush," the Dok announced, putting her hand down.

Oglak did the same. "I got five aces."

"Ba! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Fergritz laughed drunkenly. "Turn da cards ovuh, stupid."

Oglak did as he was told, revealing two three's, a jack, a nine, and a five. "Aww, fridgin' dammit, can we redo dat round?"

Brudz snorted with glee; the bet for the round was that everyone got to smash a beer bottle on the loser's head. "No way, it aint our fault yer too blind ta see da difrince 'tween one side o' da cards an' de uv'er. But 'ere, yew c'n use dese coz I feels sorry for ya, sorta." She handed over her driving goggles to Oglak. "It'll 'elp ta save yer eyes frum all da glass, heh heh…"

Once Oglak had put on the goggles, the smashing began. He was left slumped on the floor, bleeding. "Dooya fink maybes we ovuh did it a wee bit?" Murkagro asked.

"Ee wanted ta be dealed in, soz it's iz own fault." Fergritz replied with a shrug. "Dat's da risk of playin' scar poka."

And so the night went, with more scar poker, and more beer. And then some more scar poker and even more beer.

The two sisters staggered through the door to the forge, arms over each others shoulders and a bottle in each hand. The sun had risen a long time ago.

"Boss, dere's some Deff Skullz walkin' in!" A Gretchin yelled out.

Oric ran over, gun raised, only to lower it screaming as loud as possible, "WHERE DA 'ELL 'AVE YEW TWO BEEN?"

Brudz tried to talk, only to collapse to the floor vomiting. Cezzy drank the last of her beer, burped, and sat on a crate.

"It's nearly lunch time," Oric growled angrily, "An' dat one's sposed ta be buildin' me 'n' Jamz a fingy ta travel on! Why da flammin' 'ell she gots a fork stuck in 'er 'ead? An' why's yew all dressed in Deff Skullz outfits?"

Brudz dragged herself across the floor; she apparently had no use of her legs anymore. "I jus' lost a game o' scar, poka, dassall… nufern ta worry 'bouts…"

Cezzy bent over and pulled the fork out of her sisters' skull, nearly falling backwards. "We was 'avin' da foo beersh wiv Fergritz, musta lost track 'o' time, yeh… hic…" She held onto a crate, and lowered herself to the ground, ready to fall asleep. "Anywayz, g'night gwumpy."

Oric was too angry to say anything; he just stood there making snarling sounds, and shaking with anger. Jamz stomped over, looking down at his sisters. "Did yew two go to da pub?"

"No…" Brudz lied instinctively.

"Den where'd ya go?" Jamz asked, tilting his head, but there was no response. Both his sisters were asleep.

Brudz was startled awake when she felt the cold wash of water over her face; it wasn't gently, and it sure didn't feel refreshing. Instead, she felt like she was drowning.

Oric pulled Brudz' head out from the toilet bowl, the flush chain still in one hand. The mek coughed and spluttered; she gulped in fresh air, only to have her head once again thrust into the water. Oric pulled the chain flushing the toilet. Where she resurfaced, Brudz was fully awake. "Yuk! You filthy Ork! What makes yer fink I'll do anyfin fer an ass'ole like yew?"

"I let yer sleep fer two hours in yer own puke puddle, dat was more'n' generous of me." Oric said standing up, and throwing Brudz out of the bathroom door into the forgery. "NOW I WANTS ME NEW VEHICLE SO GIT A MOVALONG YA GIT!"

The mek got to her feet, coughing up some water. Her clothes smelt of stomach fluids, beer and cigar smoke, but she ignored it. She had a throbbing head ache, and felt giddy. However, she wasn't about to say no to an already enraged Nob. She felt lucky her brother hadn't already wrapped his claws around her throat and throttled her.

"Yeah, yeah, don't git yer panties inna knot yer dumb Ork, I's on me way…" Brudz mumbled, heading to her work station.

"Body parts! Oh! How wundaful!" Cezzy-Po was in a giant laboratory-slash-hospital. Shelves were lined with organs, limbs, and bits of flesh. She ran over to one shelf and grabbed some livers; from another, she grabbed intestines. She filled her arms with jars and bags of body parts, before taking them over to a band new sparkly metal bench.

Cezzy-Po put everything down, and trundled over to a surgery bed where an unconscious battle-torn Ork lay. "Ah, how convenient, shomeone ta experiment on! Tee-hee!" She kicked off the brakes, and wheeled the bed over beside her bench.

Beside the bench was a cupboard. Cezzy pulled open the doors; the sparkle of all the stabby things inside nearly blinded her. There were needles, scalpels, knives, saws, drills, callipers, tongs, scissors, more needles, a pizza cutter and endless amounts of other surgical equipment.

The Dok grabbed a few items and prepared to cut open her patient. She planned to cut him open and take out the less needed organs and replace them with some more useful ones (like a second liver).

In final preparation, Cezzy put on a pair of headphones, and turned on her music player. "Time fer cuttin'!"

A chain was hung from the upper rafters in the forgery. At the end of it, was Cezzy-Po, hanging upside down with the chain wrapped around her. Several feet below her were a bunch of Gretchin standing on a stool, clawing at her hungrily.

"…Got offa plane to da country da-da da… drove to da mountain na na na… crack on da corna 'n' shumone dead… la la la, la la la la-la. Dey gots guns on 'em yea, eh, eh eh-eh…"

"SHUT YER MOUF!" Jamz throw an old bone at Cezzy-Po, rudely awakening her from her slumber.

"Gorkers! Huh? What da? Where'd I put dat pancreas!" She stammered, confused. "Hmm? Aaaagh! Git away from me, yew ugly snots! I'll make ya inta me next test subjects, if yer git any closa!"

The Gretchin scrambled away; they didn't want to risk being near Cezzy-Po now that she was awake after seeing what she did to the squig.

Jamz raised his gun, causing Cezzy to panic. "Don't shoot me!" She screamed, "I swears I didn' sell any of ya organs, I SHWEAR!"

The gun burst to life for a few seconds and the chain broke. Cezzy plunged towards the ground only to land in Jamz' open mega-claw uncomfortably. "I 'ad da greatest dream…" She groaned painfully.

"I wants yer ta shave me back," Jamz growled. "But I wasn' gonna let yer go anywheres near me wiv a blade in yer 'ands whiles yew were wasted now, waz I?"

He grabbed on end of the chain, stood Cezzy on the ground and pulled; she spun around like a spinning top, and nearly fell into a tub of molten metal. "Geez!" She whinged, "Be a bit gentla, wouldja? Me stomach's feelin' foul still."

As punishment for sneakily going to the pub when they were strictly ordered not to drink beer, Brudz and Cezzy were worked hard for two days without any food. Brudz had her leg shackled together after trying to do a runner for the meat and Cezzy sustained several broken ribs after accidentally cutting one of Jamz' main arteries open from a shaky (underfed) hand.

It was almost sundown when Brudz picked up the last rivet. She had managed to talk Jamz into letting her sister help her. "Jus' dis one liddle rivet…" She said wearily. "Den I c'n eat 'n' sleep 'n' be as lazy as I pleases."

Cezzy prodded her sore chest tenderly. "Yeah, an' I c'n sleep off me brokin ribz." She picked up the lump of metal, and held it against the back of the rivet.

The rivet gun rattled for a few seconds, and the job was done.

"Finished!" Brudz screeched out with joy, throwing the rivet gun to the ground.

Before them stood a thing big enough to support two large Nobs with ease. It was made from the caterpillar track and gears from the right side of the tank, with some extra wheels added to the front and sides for stability and steering purposes. Two seats were perched above the track, with foot rests either side so it could be rode like a motor bike. At the back a shoddy engine was affixed to turn the gears and provide a backrest for the second seat. The handle bars at the front were attached a tripod of wheels with which to control the direction of the vehicle; a machine gun was also mounted on them, as well as the throttle. Something that resembled a train's snow plough was bolted over the tripod of wheels for protection.

"So, what iz it, exactly?" Cezzy-Po asked.

"Just some kinda wartrakks, I spose." Brudz surmised. "It don't fit inta any uv'er category dat I c'n fink of."

Jamz and Oric came over to inspect the vehicle. "Whadija do to da name plate!?" Oric said in horror, as he saw the scrap of metal that used to be his pillow was riveted to the front of the handle bars. "Did I tells yer ta change it? No! It sposed ta say TANKABELL!"

"I 'ad ta cut it shorta," Brudz snapped, "'coz it waz too damn big! Yew'll jus' 'ave ta do wiv 'Tanka' fer da moment. Anywayz, undo dese stupid chains on me legs."

"Now don't be so 'asty." Oric said, mounting the vehicle. "I gots ta make sure dis fing works, first."

"I wants ta drive!" Jamz snarled, reaching out to grab Oric. "Git off!"

Envisioning her newest piece of work being caught between two Nobs fighting, Brudz quickly calmed her brother. "I made da back seat 'speshly fer yew, Jamz. It got a back rest, an yew c'n shoot yer guns coz ya hands are free."

Jamz contemplated it for a moment, before deciding that a back rest didn't sound too bad after all. He jumped on behind Oric. "Don't crash us, or I's'll kill yer."

"Damn right yews 'ad betta not crash dat fing," Brudz lectured, "Yew do, an' I aint makin' yer a new one! You'll be walkin' to da waagh."

The vehicle took a few turns to start. It rumbled to life and a cloud of thick black smoke erupted from the exhaust.

"It's alive!" Cezzy joked.

Oric and Jamz listened as Brudz gave them a quick run-down on the vehicle. "Now, dis fing can't do sharp turn coz it's a single trakk. Da only fing steerin' it, iz doze fwree wheels," she said pointing to the three wheels behind the plough. "yew try an' turn it too tight, an' most likely yew'll just roll or somefin'. Also, dis fing needs a battery ta start. I madez it so, if'n dat battery dies, yer can start it up by 'ookin' Jamz' mega armour up to da engine at da back dere."
The Gretchin opened the large fold-up door which opened onto the street. The girls walked out onto the pavement to watch. The boys drove the 'wartrakk' out slowly. "We'll be back inna while." Oric said, and the two Nobs drove off.

It was a noisy contraption, which spewed vast amounts of smoke, but that was nothing unusual for an Ork vehicle. Brudz and Cezzy watched as it disappeared down the stretch of road, wobbling slightly.