Chapta Seven: Confrontation
Chapta Seven: Confrontation
Signs of dawn had appeared on the horizon by the time Cezzy and Brudz had convinced Orlen to fill them in on what his Boss failed to mention. The three sat inside the remains of the old mek shop, out of the cold.
"If yew lot's got troubles, den dat makes 'em our troubles, too." Cezzy explained. "At least, while's we're stuck 'ere. An' we aint gonna use yer bad situashen ter make it even worse. We iz a very long way 'way from our waagh, 'n' if it makes yer feel better, we dun even know 'oo it iz we's sposed ta be fightin'."
Orlen looked sceptical; he still hadn't quite made up his mind if he wanted to open his mouth.
Tired and hungry, Brudz wanted to get the information from the reluctant Ork and go to sleep. "Look, Orlen, wha' we mean iz if yer clan's in any trouble, den so are we. If some one wants ter stab yer, den dey'll wanna stab uz, too. If dey wants ter kill yer, dey'll wanna kill us too. Why? Coz we'z stuck 'ere."
"Yeh mean yer da Boss's slaves." Orlen corrected.
"We aint no ones slaves!" Cezzy growled.
Orlen snorted. "You'd be dead, if 'ee didn't need yer 'elp. Dat makes yer slaves."
"Jus' tell us da troof 'bout 'ow da meks 'n' yer dok got deaded!" Snapped Brudz.
Orlen sighed heavily. "Okay… but I wants a sleep first."
Only Cezzy objected; knowing that they'd find out the story later was enough for Brudz - she fell asleep on the half-burned bench where she sat. Orlen stood up and began to walk off, ignoring Cezzy's grumbles.
"Oi, wait, where yer goin'? C'n ya at leasht tell us 'fore yer go ter sleep?" Cezzy bugged the mek, pulling at piece of animal fur on his back.
Orlen growled in annoyance, "I'm goin' to da squigdrops to take a dump, do yer mind?"
Disgusted and horrified, the Dok stopped tugging at Orlen's animal pelt. "Dat waz too much infamashun, ya coulda jus' said yer needed a few moments alone yer filfy Nob! Yew meks must 'ave it in yer genes - Brudz's got da same mannerisms. Bleh!"
With a shrug Orlen headed for the toilet.
As the sun rose higher and higher, the chill in the air began to relieve. The only thing that spoilt such a fine morning included three things: first, Orks don' really give a squig's butt about nice weather. Secondly, it wasn't just going to get warm, it was going to get hot - as deserts usually do in the day - and everybody knew it. And finally, a beer or fifty the night before.
Oric woke up with a throbbing head ache and blurry vision; he was lying on the ground in a small alley beside a shabby hut. He reached out for partially full beer bottle - only to have a mega claw scoop it up.
A loud burp erupted from Jamz' mouth after he ate the beer (bottle and all). He sat on the ground near Oric looking rather seedy. "We're outta teef." he said. They had spent the last of their super-secret stash of teeth on grog and pie.
"Why doesh ev'ry good night ouwt end up loik diss?" Oric complained as he unsteadily sat up.
"It's called a 'ang'ovuh, ya wimp." Jamz replied. He then leaned over sideways and vomited.
Oric screwed his nose up at the vile smell. "Look 'oo's talkin', I ain't da one dat's…" Oric's mouth twitched, before he too leaned over and delivered his guts.
"What waz yer sayin, Oric?" Jamz said smugly.
"Shud up! I's jus' makin' room fer more pie."
Jamz reminded Oric about their little problem. "We aint got no more teef, rememba?"
Oric sighed. No teeth meant no pie. "Guess I'll jus' sleep den." He leant up against the side of the hut and closed his eyes; it didn't take Orks long to get over their ailments.
Jamz mumbled in agreement and didn't waste time before he was rumbling snores.
"Oi'! Oi'! Wake up!"
Jamz woke up with a start; his head was feeling much better, but he didn't like being disturbed from his slumber. The sun was high in the sky, well into the day. Jamz looked grumpily at Brudz and Cezzy-Po who stood next to him, pushing him to wake him up.
"You 'ad betta 'ave a guf reas'n fer wakin' me up!" He growled.
"Stop yer bitchin', it waz yaw choice at drink booz all night." Brudz replied, looking down at the dried puddle of puke with a sneer. "Coulda give us a few teef, yew greedy gutses."
Pushing Brudz aside, Cezzy spoke with a mix of excitement and urgency. "Orlen jus' told us da real reason dat Waagh Boss wants us, and yew two, 'ere! 'Ee said dat da Goffs-"
"Slow down!" Jamz interrupted. "'Oo's dis Orlen fella?"
"-'Ee's da last ov dere meks, but 'ee 'as no 'ands. Now listen up - da Goffs are responsible fer da deff of da Dok, da meks, an' Orlen's missin' 'ands. AND fer killin' some of dere cyboars, an' fer trashin' da mek shop."
Oric stood up and stretched. "So? 'oo gives a toss what 'appened to dis clan - it ain't ours. Da sooner we git outta 'ere, da betta."
"Can't yew see what dis means fer us all - an' fer yewz?" Brudz burst out with new life as she explained the importance of the news. "Da Boss is jus' letting' yew two stay 'ere so 'ee's got two huge killy Nobs to fight if dis place gits attacked again; 'ave yer noticed dat dere aint a single uver mega-armoured nob in sight? Closest fing yew'll find ter teknologee in dis clan iz dem cyboars - which are almost non existent, fanks to da Goffs. Yew cud be getting' teef outta dis, but da Boss waz bein' all sneaky 'bout da situashen. Stingy bastard!"
Jamz didn't take the news too well. He jumped to his metal feet, roaring, "NOBODY GITS ANYFIN' FER FREE FROM JAAAAAMZ! I WANTS TEEF!"
Uurgrin sat on his bone throne eating roast squig - he'd been out for his morning exercise already: beating up Orks who were too drunk to back down from a fight with their Boss, or dumb enough to think they'd actually win. After that, he spent some time at the pub; he enjoyed gambling, drinking, and the cranky bar maid; the beer always tasted better to Uurgrin when she served it. He probably wouldn't like her as much if he knew she pissed in his beer.
Now Uurgrin was enjoying his afternoon snack in his hut. His bodyguards also enjoyed a squig meat meal, seated at tables around the hut. Or at least they were, until Jams hacked down the wooden door with his cleaver and barged in uninvited.
"I WANT MY ZOGGIN' TEEEEEF!"
The body guards dropped their meat and grabbed their weapons. Uurgrin looked up from his meal none too happily, a leg of squig half way to his mouth. "Yew look like yer got a gob full o' teef ter me, Nob."
Jamz snarled; his yellow teeth visible. "Yer jus' usin' me an' Oric. If I knew'd yer were jus' usin' us fer protecshen, I'd'v made yer pay fer me services - I ain't free ya know. At least not to dis backwards tribe. So, pay me teef now, or I'll open yer up wiv me cleava!"
There was complete silence for several seconds. You never threaten a Waaghboss unless you're either very stupid, very angry and stupid, drunk, or strong enough to possibly have a chance of beating him (which is unlikely - after all, Boss' are the Boss for a very good reason!).
Uurgrin put his meat aside and stood up. His neutral expression had disappeared - he looked fiercely at his challenger. Uurgrin's body guards flanked their Boss; it was one thing to be challenged by a member of their own warband, but for a stranger to challenge Uurgrin made all the Snakebites present tense.
"Yew idiot!" Brudz squeezed through the door and stood beside Jamz. "Dere's more important fings ter be worryin' 'bout den challenging dere Boss!"
Jamz glared down at Brudz, raising his mega claw to swing in her direction. "Yaw da one dat told me 'bout da teef!" He growled.
Brudz quickly backed out of reach. Cezzy-Po entered the hut on Jamz' other side, explaining to her brother the need to stay in one piece temporarily. "Shaw, git yer teef, butjus' fink what'll 'appen if da Goffs git 'ere an' two ov da biggest, meanest, killy Orks iz 'arf dead, den yew may as well invite dem goons into dis settlement an' roll over 'n' die coz da Goffs aint a bunch ov push overs."
Cezzy-Po counted on the fact that she was the only Dok available in the settlement to keep her alive; nobody tells a bigger Ork what to do - especially ones that's a Boss and one that wears mega armour - and expects to live a long life.
The Waaghboss' surprise helped to reduce his want to flatten the mouthy Dok. "Who told yer 'bout da Goffs? An' how much do yer know?"
The Dok pushed the bandanna up and put her hands behind her back. "Why don't yer all take a seat while I explain?" After receiving a glowering look from Jamz she added, "an' we c'n work out da fing wiv Jamz."
One tedious life threatening hour later, the Waaghboss made the agreement that Jamz and Oric could plunder whatever loot they wanted - if the Goffs attacked while they were still there. Uurgrin refused to pay teeth to someone who might not end up doing anything except drink beer all day.
Uurgrin wasn't pleased that Orlen had blabbed. And Orlen wasn't happy that Brudz and Cezzy-Po blabbed to Jamz. Currently, the two girls were trying to pacify the handless mek.
"Yew said yew wouldn't exploit da clan!" He roared. The three Orks were at the half-destroyed mek shop; Orlen's voice echoed loudly. "Lien' pieces of crap!"
"Gorkers Orlen, shut ya gab!" Brudz yelled from a safe distance. "We still gonna stay 'n' 'elp, but we felt it necessary ta tell Jamz 'n' Oric dat dey waz bein' used. So see, we didn't exploit yew lot!"
"If I 'ad 'ands, I'd strangle yew 'n' dat Dok." Orlen snarled.
Cezzy poked her head above the bench she was hiding behind. "Well, good fing yer aint got no 'ands. An'yer won't 'ave, if yer keep talkin' like dat 'bout me!"
A faint chinking and dinging sound caught Brudz' attention. "What's dat noise?" She asked aloud, and ran over to the door and peeked out. "What da 'eck? Why's dat Ork wearin' all dose jingly fingies?"
Orlen and Cezzy knew exactly why that Ork was wearing jingly things. They both tried to warn Brudz, "Don't go out dere - " but it was too late. The inquisitive mek had already slipped out of the door.
A strange looking Ork was hurrying past the mek shop with a small band of Orks following close behind. He was a foot taller than Brudz and wore leather pants, and a fur-lined snake skin belt which had cow bells hanging from it. The Ork was bare from his belt up except for multiple silver hoop earrings on his ears, and snake-skin wrist bands. His bare skin was covered in swirling patterns which were far more extreme than any Brudz had seen on even Uurgrin, and he carried a metal staff decorated at one end.
Brudz dashed out and walked beside the strange Ork, demanding answers. "Why's yew dressed like dat? An' why's dem Orks followin' yew?"
"Go away!" The strange Ork snapped and pushed Brudz away. "I got somefin' important to tell da Boss."
Brudz wasn't happy with the greeting she had received. "Fink yer c'n jus' shove me, do ya, creep?" She said, baring her teeth angrily.
The gang following the strange Ork caught up with the pair and grabbed Brudz. "Don't go gettin' rowdy 'round Ongrat!" They growled and threw her aside like a ragdoll.
Brudz found it quite strange that she didn't just get beat up. If any other Orks had ganged up her like that, she would have been left with a black eye, several stab wounds and maybe some bullet holes for sure. Brudz' curiosity demanded that she get to the bottom of this. She stood up, and was ready to run over to the fast-paced mob when someone grabbed her by her squig-hair braid.
"Whadoya fink yer doin'?" Cezzy yelled at her younger sister; Orlen stood behind her. "Ya freakin' idiot! 'Ave yew any idea what dat Ork is?"
"An' Ork's an Ork." Brudz replied. She turned around and bit her sister's hand to make her let go.
"Aaah!" Cezzy screamed. "Yew'll regret dat!"
Orlen stepped between the two sisters. "If yer know what's good for ya, don't fight when Ongrat's nearby." Suddenly, pain shot up Orlen's legs – the sisters kicked him in the shins and the pair started to fight, kicking and scratching each other. "Gaaah! Dat 'urt! I'll kill yer when Ongrat's gawn!"
A few punches and kicks into the fight, Brudz pulled out her slugga (her kustom weapon had been a casualty in the bike accident) and started shooting at Cezzy-Po. The Dok ran, stuffing her hands into her many pockets trying to locate her own gun to shoot back with. Although the Dok knew the dangers that the bell-laden Ork possessed, she took her chances and ran into the group of Orks that followed Ongrat. They were a perfect meat-shield.
Without any regard for the other Orks, the young angry Mek let loose with her shoota. The bullets pinged off metal bits of armour, and some hit flesh – announced by a roar from the receiver.
Ongrat broke into a run; he sniffed back into his nose what looked like a glowing booger. The Orks following Ongrat were his Minders; an odd assortment of Orks who were chosen to guard the bell-laden Ork at all times. Not all of them were right in the head.
Angry, the Minders turned around and pulled their weapons out. Cezzy shuffled through the group until she was free and ran hell-for-leather from the Minders.
"Dat's betta," Brudz spoke to the mob of Minders. "I waz begginin' ta fink yer didn't like ter fight."
It took a moment for Brudz to realise that wasn't perhaps such a good thing. She stuffed her gun back into her back pocket and looked about nervously. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Orlen was standing behind her looking none too pleased.
"We got work ta do," Orlen growled. He looked up to the Minders who were walking towards Brudz. "Dis wun'z under da Boss's charge, an' 'ee needz 'er alive… for now. Yew lot betta go find Ongrat, 'Ee's run off."
The Minders looked around confused; Ongrat really had run off. Realising this, they fled to find the Ork under their supervision.
Orlen called out, "Oi, boyz! Go 'n' fetch dat Dok fer me, an' bring 'er to da pens."
Three Orks boyz jumped out from behind a scrap pile near the mek shop, and ran down the road, hailing Orlen. "Be right back wiv 'er, Orlen!"
"Does dey always hide behind stuff?" Brudz asked.
Orlen pointed past the Mek shop with his one of his stumps. "Dat way, yer zog-rot. An' no, dey only does dat when dey is spyin'. Dey ain't ever far away." He stomped off, with Brudz following at a safe distance from the agitated Ork.
The animal pens were just behind the mek shop; boars and a variety of squigs were kept there. Further back in a separate set of huts the snakes were caged. The snake huts were unharmed, but the boar and squig pens had seen better days; they had been targeted by the Goffs in the last raid. A group of Gretchin and Snotlings were tending to the animals, feeding them and repairing the pens. Orlen walked over to a row of iron cages.
"Dis 'ere iz da last of our boars." He said, looking at the sickly beasts. "Only about twenty ov 'em left – an' dey are dyin' fast."
Brudz walked up and down the cages, examining the boars. Most had their back legs replaced with a single wheel and cybernetic enhancements; but there were still a few pens which contained untouched boars. All of the boars, cybork or not, moped around with an unhealthy look. They didn't even have the energy to grunt or squeal.
"Dat looks bad," Brudz said concerned. She knew Uurgrin was worried, but she hadn't realised just how bad the boars were until now.
"Da dok's right 'ere, Orlen!" one of the boys called out close by. Several footsteps could be heard before four Orks walked around the corner where Orlen and Brudz stood.
Cezzy-Po didn't look too impressed. She stamped forward and grabbed her sister by the collar of her singlet. "Yew ever shoot at me like dat again, an' I swears I'll rip dat shquig 'air right from yer scalp! An' don't ever fight around a Weirdboy, yew 'ear me?" She let go of her sister, giving her one last warning snarl. "Yew ain't ever been ta waagh before, so yew listen to me when I tells yer somefin! Yew'll live a lot longer!"
Having been embarrassed in front the Snakebite Orks the young mek decided it was best to reserve questions for later; she felt it would only make her seem even more stupid. Instead, she just grunted in reply resisting the temptation to pull out her shoota and do exactly what her elder sister advised her not to do.
"Right den," Cezzy said standing a little taller, "Let's find out why dese boars are all croakin' it."
Little more than an hour later the girls and Orlen had set up a mini work station in an empty pen. Brudz was busy making wheels to be fitted to the boars under the careful watch of Orlen ("dey 'as ta be done MY way, which iz da SNAKEBITE way!" and grumbling and growling etc.). Cezzy was examining a knocked-out boar and testing blood samples. An unexpected visitor came to check the Orks' progress.
"How long's dis gonna take ta git me boars fixed?" Uurgrin bellowed, sticking his large head through the entrance of the work station startling the Orks inside.
"We're workin' as fast as we can, Boss." Orlen replied. "We're getting' da last of da boars fitted wiv wheels, an' da dok's tryin' ter find a cure for 'em."
Uurgrin looked from the wheels to the unconscious boar. "Dat didn't answer my question, Orlen. 'Ow long's it gonna take!" he snapped angrily.
"About a day ter git da boars on wheels; I dunno about da cure, Boss." Orlen spoke, careful not to sound rude.
"I fink I know what's maken' 'em sick," Cezzy spoke up before Uurgrin could shout again, sniffing a blood sample. "It's a common illness on dis planet. If dese boars ain't from 'ere, den dey obviously gonna git much more affected by da disease."
The news didn't seem to cheer Uurgrin up any. "Can dey be cured soon?"
"Maybe," Cezzy replied. "It depends 'ow long it'll take me ter git da right fungus. I noticed dere wasn't much growin' round 'ere."
"Yew tell me what yer need ta git dese 'ogs fixed, an' I'll make sure dat yer get it." Uurgrin said resolutely. "Coz we only 'ave fwree days before da Goffs iz gonna be on our door step."