Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 24
The smoking ruins could be seen even from this altitude, a flaming wasteland, chugging noxious fumes into the already sulphurous sky. Blasted workshops collapsed into themselves as fuel reserves exploded randomly, adding more destruction to the carnage. Toppled Stompas lay in the rubble, their innards leaking oil like an oozing corpse. This had once been a vital hub in the Ork war machine, now it was ashes and Hed'breka was not amused.
Descending through the turbulent sky came a ramshackle Ork shuttle, all engines and fat body, with stubby wings that seem inadequate to keep it in the air. Any sane pilot would have taken one look and declared it would fall to a fiery doom as soon as it left the ground, but through sheer Ork stubbornness it flew, carrying Hed'breka between worlds. The Warboss had hurried to the tenth planet, rushing to respond to the distress call, but too late. The battle was over and the Hoomies had fled, leaving destruction in their wake.
"Whata mess," grunted Masha, hefting a Big Shoota as he gazed out the tiny porthole.
"I can't see," Gut'twista protested, "Wats down dere?"
"Trouble," Hed'breka growled, "Da fite has started."
A rough bump sent the shuttle bouncing high, and then stooping low. Everybody leaned back as the floor tilted alarmingly and the pilot called from the nose, "Dis iz ya daily trek tween worlds. Departin' whenever I bloody please, landing wherever da hell I wants. We'ze iz comin in fer a nice gentle landin', so be ready for a teeny, tiny little bump. Da aircraft may, and when I sez may I meanz is definitely gonna, catch fire so be ready to depart by ur nearest exit."
Nobody blinked at the alarming report and Masha sniffed, "Da Death Skulls were first ta sign up for ur Waaagh, not likes dem to call for help."
"Da Death Skulls be 'ard gits, fite gud and be proper Orks. Just dunna trust dem with yer Grubbins, thievin gits da lot of dem."
"Got it," Gut'twista confirmed as he crossed mechanical arms over the barrel of his chest.
Suddenly the shuttle's nose dropped, sending them plummeting towards the ground. All of them became weightless for a moment and Hed'breka's stomach flipped but then the nose rose a fraction and the death dive began to level out, but not fast enough. The belly of the shuttle hit dirt and metal screamed as it parted, ripping along the underside as the mass drove forward. The shuttle began to spin as it tumbled along, juddering wildly and somewhere in the rear a fuel line ruptured, igniting to send a plume of flame into the cabin. All was madness and noise, then it faded and the craft came to a halt, ruined and broken.
"Unnver happy landin'," Hed'breka muttered.
The pilot came bounding out of the nose yelling, "Time to go. Say Dat Shoota look heavy, let me get it fer ya."
"Geez tanks," Masha replied as he handed it over and ducked out a broken panel.
Hed'breka followed, then the pilot then Gut'twista, tearing his way out of the side without bothering to duck. Outside was a bleak vista of stony ground and broken ruins, having landed outside the edge of the destruction. Distant figures were headed their way, dragging wagons behind with pumps and derricks for the shuttle. Hed'breka spied the local boss of the Death Skulls in their midst, and glared impatiently as he waited for them to close.
"I'll just go get some grots on dat fire," the pilot muttered as he ducked away from the glowering warboss.
"Doez gits don't show ya proper respect," Masha grunted.
"Yeh dey berks, but dey my kinda berks."
"Watcha mean?" Masha probed.
"I meanz dat pilot jus' walked off with ya shoota," Hed'breka replied.
Masha gawped stupidly as he spun about, looking for his missing weapon but of the gun and pilot there was no sign. Hed'breka ignored the inventive cussing from his lackey as he stepped forward, heading to meet the local boss, who he knew as Smugazz. At the head of a mob of Meks and Grots he came, a burly Ork covered in tool belts and carrying a dented spanner stained with blood and oil. Half his head was silver metal, with a big glass monocle over his eye, suspended on a rotating brass arm. Smugazz was a Mekboy by nature, a builder and inventor of the Ork race. It was rare for them to rise to lead a horde, but Smugazz had and he usually seemed very pleased with himself for doing so, but today he looked outraged.
Smugazz marched straight up to Hed'breka and snarled, "Me works! Me bootiful works! All da Tanks and buggies and Stompas, gone!"
Hed'breka agreed, "Bloody Red-Hands gone too far dis time, he gotta pay."
"Dat total git burned me biggest Stompa factory to da ground. You'ze swore you'd put a stop to him, stead you muck about for ages and let him do dis!"
A sudden silence fell over the gathering as Hed'breka's eyes narrowed. Smugazz gulped as the warboss fixed him with a stare and growled, "You sayin' dis my fault?"
"Errr..." Smugazz uttered.
"You tink you could do better job dan me? You tink you shuld be da Big Boss?"
"No..." Smugazz denied, "I never say dat."
"But boss," prompted one of the Orks from behind, "You jus' sayin' dat exact ting."
Hed'breka's left arm rose and he squeezed the trigger of his double-shoota. A spray of bullets ripped out, hammering the speaker in the face and chest. The Mekboy toppled over, face caved in by hot lead as the rest looked on in attentive silence. Hed'breka faced the mob and growled, "I said wez get Bloody Red-Hands and I meanz it. We got all der Boyz together, now we gonna go get him. All da Klans signs up to follow Hed'breka Irongutz and me Waaagh gonna crump him gud! You see, I'm gonna rip dat basturd ta bits and paint me armour with his guts!"
A few Boyz let off a ragged cheer but Smugazz was eying the shoota held up before his face and sniffed, "Dat little pigstikka is no gud, you need a proper Big gun."
"Don't cha touch..." Hed'breka started but too late.
With a wave of a spanner Sumgazz sent his Mekboyz to work, surrounding the trio with shouting and ringing hammers. Hed'breka was buffeted by grabbing hands and pinching pliers as the Orks set to. Ignoring his protests the Mekboyz prised away armour, replaced pistons and drilled heavier bits of metal over existing plating. Their efforts were all at cross-purposes, each Mek working to his own scheme and yet from the chaos arose a peculiar order. Entirely by instinct green hands brought together a new design, parts added seemingly at random effortlessly connecting to bits blindly stuck in. With the unthinking genius of their race the Mekboyz fashioned a new suit for their boss, all in a time that would make a Techpriest weep in envy.
"'Ere!" Gut'twista yelped as hands worked his metal body too, "Gere off!"
"Dis iz pissin me off," Hed'breka agreed.
"Quit fidgettin'" Smugazz growled, "Nearly done."
Suddenly the crowd parted, allowing him to see their handiwork. Hed'breka looked down and saw his new armour, thick and broad across his body. Heavier plates had been added and massive pistons to drive it, all powered by a chugging generator on the back. They hadn't brought that with them, they'd cobbled it together out of bits ad hoc. His drill remained unchanged but his Shoota had been refitted with incendiary rounds, turning each bullet into a flaming missile. He flexed his arms and was amazed by the ease of movement. He hadn't realised it but as his Waaagh grew so too had his body, making his old plate cramped and pinching. This new plate fitted perfectly, fast, powerful and with armour to rival an Imperial Terminator. Hed'breka's armour had been fit for a Warboss but now was worthy of a true Warlord.
"Dis more like it," he growled as he flexed his arms.
"Look at me!" Gut'twista yelped, "Look at me!"
Hed'breka glanced over and saw the Killa Kan had been augmented with a massive buzzsaw on one arm, while the other bore a four-shot rokket launcher. Masha was the least altered but someone had shoved a Zapp gun into his hands, the weight of the cabled backpack making his legs bow with strain. At a stroke the trio's firepower had been doubled, making them a power to be reckoned with.
"Bloody Red-Hands gonna be in for a surprise now!" Masha chortled.
"Best we could do," Smugazz sighed, "But shuld work a treat."
"Better had," Hed'breka snarled, "Got me klans, got me ships and armies and a new shoota to boot. Time to get this Waaagh on da road. Look out Bloody Red-Hands, da Orks is comin' for ur!"