Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 189

"Get after dem!" Orkamemnon shouted at the mob of Orks milling around the collapsed tunnel.

"But Boss, dey buried da hole!" a weasley Boy whined.

"Den get diggin!" Orkamemnon bellowed.

"We gotz no shovels!"

"I dunt care! Dey got my Grubbins, dat's not on! Dig you ugly berks, use ur handz and get shovelling!"

At Orkamemnon's command the mobs did as bid, turning to the rubble-filled entrance and starting to scrabble at the heavy stone. The tunnel was packed tight with rocks, barely any space at all to fit a finger into, yet they pulled boulders away one at a time. Orkamemnon didn't give it any further thought for his head was throbbing. Painful needles of inspiration were sinking into his brain, flooding through his skull in a torrent. Thoughts he couldn't begin to articulate, so large and complex that he lacked the vocabulary to comprehend them. They were important, he knew that much, but trying to fathom their meaning was beyond him. Like a trying to hold onto a dream after waking, the memories sinking beneath the surface of consciousness, never to be recovered.

He rubbed his brow as he tried to order his memories. The attack on the Palace had gone well, casualty rates high but within acceptable margins, an unwelcome thought intruded. Why had he thought that, he couldn't recall, the idea lost already. The Crown, yes, he'd made it to the crown, only for it to be snatched from his grasp by some Beakie. But for the few seconds he'd grasped it the universe had unfolded before his eyes. The walls of ignorance that bound his mind had fallen away and he's glanced vistas beyond imagination, the scope of the galaxy itself and the mysteries of deep time. Racial memories had been awoken within him, stretching back sixty million years. He'd understood everything, the Orks, the Warp and the strange gribblies that lived within and how the foundations of reality had been cracked in wars beyond comprehension. He'd held it all, then it had been snatched away, the door to infinity slammed in his face.

"Ya Okaydokey boss?" Diorkgenes asked as the Mad Dok bounded up.

"Piss off," Orkamemnon growled.

But the insane cretin offered two dripping balls of raw meat, "Looks like a bad 'ead, take two a' dese and call me in da mornin'."

"Yeh," Orkamemnon sagged as he stuffed the raw meat into his mouth, "Kay."

Sorkrates glanced over, "You'ze ain't taking stuff from that wierdo?!"

"Only hoomie flesh, rich in protein and amino acid, will stabilise my blood flow," Orkamemnon shrugged.

Sorkrates frowned, "Howz ya know dat?"

"I… dunno…" Orkamemnon puzzled.

The warboss paused as strange thoughts arose, bubbling in his head. Protein sequences and the possibilities of flesh manipulation and cybernetic augmentation. Thoughts unlike that of a Runtherder, secrets only a Mad Dok could grasp, and even then only by instinct. Racial memories were unfolding in Orkamemnon's head, outside the bounds nature had intended. Tvos' meddling had expanded his abilities, enhanced his natural Runtherder ability to dominate and command, but this was wholly new. The crown had unlocked something in his genome, opening doors that had been sealed shut for millions of years. Orkamemnon didn't understand how he knew that, the knowledge was just there.

"Step back," Orkamemnon growled.

"Eh?" Diorkgenes blinked.

"Move back, fore I make yah!"

"Kay, no need ta get pissy," the Mad Dok said as he backed up.

The bubbling thoughts diminished with distance, settling down and then fading away. He'd been picking up Diorkgenes' thoughts, the warboss realised, skimming subconscious instincts and making them his own. This shouldn't be possible, he was no weirdboy, but touching that crown had elevated his consciousness. Waaagh energy, the answer presented itself, as a Runtherder he owned a marginal ability to manipulate the psychic field that bound all Orks. Tvos' tinkering had exaggerated that ability but the crown had turned a dripping tap into a cascading waterfall. For an instant Orkamemnon had been the Waaagh and it had been him, all its mighty energies coursing through his skull. And there were bound to be lingering aftereffects.

Sorkrates looked at the warboss oddly as he suggested, "Dey can't have got far. If we hoof it overground we can catch dem in da city."

"In a mo'" Orkamemnon dismissed, "First, come 'ere."

"Eh?"

"Get over 'ere!"

Sorkrates inched nearer, a worried cast to his eye. Orkamemnon fixed his gaze on the Black Ork and felt their bond growing. Proximity helped, forging a link between them. Their powers were similar and rebounded upon each other, amplifying Orkamemnon's strength with a mirror duplicate. Sorkrates' thoughts were clear and orderly, compared to the mess that was Diorkgenes, and his intent plain as day. Orkamemnon could read him like a book, their shared link in the Waaagh uncovering all secrets.

"You'ze planning to kill da Maker," Orkamemnon blinked in surprise.

"Wat?!" Sorkrates gulped, "Nah I'z dunt!"

"Yah do, ya been looking for a way ta beat him, break da hold he got over us."

"I'z never said dat!"

"Dunt need ta say it, its writ ovver ya brain. Yah only kept me as Warboss as a bluff, so ya can sneak about looking for a way to Krump Tvos and be free."

"How'z ya know dat?!"

Orkamemnon grinned, "I'z see it all now. Da turning of da galaxy and da staples and stringz stitching it together. It'z broken, ya know, reality iz broken. Da creators of all Orks, no… Kroks… dey fought a war so big it ripped up space and time. I sees it in da race memories, a war against star godz and metal men, suns snuffed out and worlds drowned in blood, it were bootiful. Da warp gribblies iz fallout from dat, Chaos iz but an echo of da greater war. The galaxy iz falling apart, always has been, nothing can stop it. Da hoomies iz doomed, dey never had a chance 'a stopping it, not even da Hoomie Big Boss on da shiny throne. But Orks… Orks could really thrive in da death of da galaxy!"

Sorkrates backed up looking aghast, "Boss, I tink dat Hoomie crown messed yah up real good."

"Not Hoomie," Orkamemnon corrected as the tide of revelation faded, "Krorks made it, to unify oor talents and grow dem bigger an bigger."

"Huh?" Sorkrates blinked in confusion.

Orkamemnon shook as the bond faded and his memories dissolved into mist, "Wat did I say?"

"Not a clue, but da crown getting' away."

"Dunt matter, we got bigga fish ta fry."

"Da maker not be happy."

"He be nothing no more, I'z in charge now!"

"You wanna fite da maker?!"

"Yeh I do and I'z not da only one, I seen it in ya 'ead."

"Yeh," Sorkrates admitted, "When we'ze got a chance."

Orkamemnon grinned as he reached out a hand towards the Orks scrabbling at the rockface. He felt the connections between them, the pulsing energy that flowed and swirled in a constant stream. It was so easy to reach out and manipulate it, to turn the Waaagh to his purpose. He'd always done it subconsciously, bending others to his will, but this was so much more. With a thought he forced the energy flow to concentrate, running all of it through one Ork's head. The random Boy shuddered as the torrent overloaded his brain, too much energy for one skull to handle suddenly coursing through him. The boy dropped the boulder he was carrying and grabbed at his head, but the pressure was too much and with a wet plop his head exploded over his comrades.

"Wat da zog?!" Sorkrates yelled in shock.

"Gud stuff!" Orkamemnon chuckled.

"Do it again!" Diorkgenes yelped in delight, "Again! Again!"

"Pop!" Orkamemnon guffawed, "Pop! Pop! Pop!"

Ork heads burst with each outburst, spraying brains over the confused crowd. They milled in terror, too afraid to fight him, too afraid to run. The Warboss delighted in this new power, its application so obvious he was amazed he'd never understood it before. Waaagh energy was a weapon, that was what the creators had intended, a gestalt consciousness equal to the power the knife-ears used to make their Avatars. Such power had been intended to fight gods, now it was Orkamemnon's to control.

"I'z da master now!" Orkamemnon crowed.

"Boss…" Sorkrates gulped.

"Dunt fash ya pants," Orkamemnon chuckled, "I'z not plannin' ta kill ya."

"Ya not?" Sorkrates gulped apprehensively.

"Nah, I needz ya ta help me take down Tvos."

"Yah goin' after da Maker?"

Orkamemnon grinned, "He had his chance and come up short. Now it'z my turn. I see what he'z done to me, ta ya, and I can do better. Da Waaagh is mine to command, to control, he'z got nothing that can hurt us now. Tvos is dun for; I will take all hiz secrets and make dem work for me."

"Ya taking over da Waaagh?" Diorkgenes asked.

"It waz always mine! He did sod all; I made diz happen, not him. He made da Boyz weak and runty, I made 'em strong again! He don't deserve da crown, but I'z does!"

Sorkrates didn't looked convinced, "All 'a dis, from touching a crown for a minute?"

Orkamemnon flexed his hands as he uttered, "One touch, dat all it took ta open me eyes. I seen so much I can't begin ta tellz yah. I will get it back again, I gotta have it. But first we gonna make Tvos scream. Da Maker ain't in charge no more, I am, and I'z wantz ta see his eyes when he figures dat out. Den we go get me crown back. With dat crown on me 'ead da universe belongs ta da Orks!"