Orky Fluff

In the bowels of the Lux Et Tenebris a scouting party of Grots scanned the darkness fearfully. They were now near the lower hulls, and the feed lines to the ancient warp drive could be felt thrumming through the deck plates.      "Why'd we eve' so spooked?", Nibitz squeaked, feeling his way along the wall, "We gah' nuttin to be scared a', right?"      "I dunna.", Kabin shrugged, clutching his worn blunderbuss, "Bah I smrt' nuff tah no dat' wen dah Nobz toss yaz a gun und' sez 'go chek sum hole' den it usual means dat youz walkin right inta Gork shit."      Nibitz giggled.      "Gork shit.", he grinned, "Datz pretty funny."      "Not funy wen ya' walkin inta it.", Kabin skowled, his sloping brow low over his thin red eyes.      "Not foh' me meba', but it is wen you be walkin into it."      "Shut up!", Skeksis sneered at the Grots, "Jest shut up yah miserable bastards!"      Skeksis was toying with his shoota' and hunching low like a gretchin, but every last grot knew not to rile the old runtherd. He was a coward to other orks, but that made him doubly mean with the gretchin.      "But we nah' snivlin boss, we jes ah' keepin our hedz busy." Nibitz exclaimed.      "Hah!", Skeksis laughed, "Ain't nuttin tah' keep busy, so don't botha!"      The two wordy Grotz fell back in line with the others and fell quiet. At least the fear of taking a lash from Skeksis kept them from realizing they were creeping in darkness through a creapy space hulk.      "Sidez," Skeksis went on, talking mostly to himself now, "Ain't nuthin down here rilly'. Jest some dirty machine things for the spanna ladz to play wid. All wešre supposed tah do iz tell em dat itz safe foh' they're scared arses tah' com down."      Nibitz giggled again.      "Yeh, deyz scared arses iz hiden while we go chek it out, datz a gud wun boss!"      "Didn't I tell you to shut up?", Skeksis bellowed.      Then, just as he had brought his arm up with the whip to teach the gretchin a lesson, his eyes spotted something near the door leading out of the room. It lay in the dark gloom of the ship as still as a furnace or a boiler unit, but something about it's shape and color betrayed it's innocence. Along the center of it's bulk was a familiar golden carving of an angel with a length of fancy human writing. The memory of his last encounter with such a thing was still quite clear from the fighting on Armageddon      Skeksis had time to utter just one string of words.      "I know wot dat iz."      "Wot boss?", Kabin gasped.      It was too late. The great metal bulk suddenly rose up on thick and stubby legs, it's arms flexing and swinging up into position. The multi-barrelled cannon on it's right arm began to rotate with a terrifyingly distinctive wirr.      "Izza Dred!", Nibitz wailed, throwing himself to the ground.      The cannon came to life with a blinding muzzle flare, the spinning barrels spitting out more shells in it's first volley than the entire grot party had to fire back. Had the Dreadnought been trying to kill them, not a one would have escaped that first horrifying fusillade. Yet, for a reason that Skeksis' green brain could not comprehend, the metal beast was leveling it's firepower into the eastern wall. As the plasticrete and adamentium bulkheads shredded Skeksis found himself possessed by one single thought. He didnšt stop to worry about the assault cannon punching holes in the hull, or the fact that a Space Marine presence was still on the ship, or even about being blown to bits himself. Because all he could concentrate on was what the Dreadnought was screaming, it's metallic voice echoing in the tight confines of the ship.      "Return fire Brothers!", it blared, "Another wave is upon us! Tell Clavius that the Terminators have not returned for three weeks, and I fear that they have gone with the Emperor! On your right flank, for the honor of your primarch, return fire! Return fire!"      What could it mean? Skeksis only had a slim understanding of human-speak. Why wasn't it simply blasting them?      "Um, we, uh...", The runtherd tried to answer.      "Are you wounded?", the Dreadnought demanded.      The metal hulk began to stride forward, it's cannon momentarily silent.      "We, ah, yeh... Um, Yeah, wounded...."      There was a high pitched squeak behind the grots, louder than a gnasher-squig's death cries. Then the sound of clinking weight on the deck plates, the sound of feet, or hooves, dozens of them moving closer.      The Dreadnought brought the cannon around and aimed it toward the mass of green skins.      "Buh... Duh... Don't... Don't shoot! It wuzn't us! It wuzn't us, we jest found dah ship!", Skeksis screamed, his hands in the air.      The Dreadnought fired, swinging the pattering strobe of it's firepower back and forth. It took several long bursts of sustained fire before the grots realized what was happening.      It wasn't trying to shoot them, it was skillfully shooting right over their heads and chopping up a third enemy that was scampering toward them in the dark.      Gretchin aren't renowned for their smarts. Among the Orks they are often considered the dimmest candles in a race of short, dim candles. But one by one the mass of shivering, terrified grots figured out the mystery.      The Marines had lost their ship to an enemy that had killed most of the crew. And that enemy was still on the ship.      A handful of marines could kill an army of grots. And a ship full of things that could kill Marines was not a good thing. This was not a good turn of events. This was bad.      "Fuh... Uh... ", Skeksis stammered, trying to get a handle on the moment., "Um, Damit... Fire! Fire yah simple bastards, git up und fire!"      The Dreadnought fired an impact grenade over their heads, creating an explosion that lit up the hallway. In the flame and smoke the enemy was almost visible, scampering forward in a permanent hunch, four arms swinging about their gnashing heads.      "Yeeaaaaaaah!", The metal beast screamed, not letting up on it's cannon fire.      Skeksis was more terrified now that he could remember ever feeling. On Armageddon he had seen some stuff that would turn a lad pink, but nothing like this. He did all he knew how. He chimed in with the Dreadnaught's war cry.      "Waaaaaaaaugh!", He roared, spraying fire into the advancing horde.      It was heartening to see when the beasts began to rip apart, spraying their purple guts down on the burning floor. It was inspiring enough to get the grots back on their feet and shooting back, bullets and musket balls bouncing off, and occasionally tearing, the chitinous hide of their targets.      "We gotz em! We gotz em!", Kabin cheered, watching the beasts get cut down faster than the hallway cold spit them out.      Then suddenly the roaring stopped. It took the gretchin and Skeksis a moment to realize what had changed. The beasts were still squealing and shrieking, and all the rifles and bolters were still going, but something was missing.      The Dreadnought had stopped firing.      It's assault cannon spun quietly, it's dozens of barrels streaming smoke.      "I'm out of ammo brothers!", it cried, falling back with a pneumatic hiss in it's hydraulics.      Skeksis blinked. The things, the bugs, they were getting closer. The grots were lousy shots when they were against a normal foe, but this was too much to ask of them. Some were getting by the field of fire unharmed, and Skeksis couldnšt keep slapping magazines into his shoota fast enough. One by one, grots began to run out of ammo themselves, turning and running away.      This wasn't going to last for long.      "Fall bak, fall bak!", Skeksis finally conceded, noticing that just about all of the grots had already run off on him.      He had only just managed to high-tail it into the larger room before the Dreadnought brought down an emergency bulkhead to seal off the hall. He could hear their claws ripping against the plasticrete where he had been only moments before.      "The beasts are legion brother, I myself have cleansed the nests they have tried to make along the thermal-exchange, but they have made unholy union with our surviving brothers. Brother-observer Octavious has reported that most of our honored third assault may now be in their clutches. I tried to fight them, but, emperor forgive my soul, I could not fire on my brothers.", The Dread explained, opening another door to put distance between them and the beasts, "We're lucky the ship stayed within the warp all this time, if we'd dropped to sublight the astronomicon might have locked on to the nearest star and headed for it, and I doubt Festus or Deunan would have been prepared to push back these foul creatures! Tell me brothers, how goes the defense of the upper decks? I haven't had access to a Time-Lock, but I think it may have been weeks, maybe months since I've seen any other signs of my loyal brothers. I assume wešve built a stronghold up above?"      The grots turned and looked at Skeksis.      "Um, no.", Skeksis croaked, wondering if he could run fast enough to make it back to the deck lift before the Dreadnought noticed they were there, "Shud we ave'?"      The hulk turned and faced the diminutive Runtherd.      "What is your name Brother?"      Skeksis shook in his rags, and tried desperately to think of an answer that would not get him killed.      "Skeks-avious", He squeaked.      Nibitz cracked up laughing, falling onto his runty back and kicking the deck.      "Dey do ave' dum namez like dat! Datz purfekt boss!", he giggled uncontrollably, "Datz da best! Skeksavious!"      Skeksis roared in anger, and kicked the grot with a weighty thump, quieting him down and tossing him across the floor.      "How mana' timez dah' I hafta' tell yah ta' shut up?", He bellowed madly.      Then there was a mechanical wirr, and the Dreadnought seized Skeksis around the waist with it's claw.      "Dirty craven filthy ork!", The Dreadnought exclaimed, confusion in his voice.      "Datz him!", Nibitz cackled, still rolling with laughter. End.

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