A vessel has crashed on Tattoine prior to the Clone Wars leaving an uncertain new party ready to make its mark on the galaxy.
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Prologue; The Incident
New
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
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Prologue;
The Incident
27 BBY - Tattooine
Yaol was somewhat of an outcast. Owning something as quaint as an unpowered telescope was something that did little to earn any respect from his peers, and yet, none of them had prepared for the strange storm in space that had opened up and with a few calls those few peers he called friends had hauled ass over to his place to plant their eye on the eyepiece. It didn't hurt as much they explained, looking at it through the macrobinocs were painful and hurt, and Villu complained that he felt like he was having a bad spice trip.
"Hey, what's that?" One of them said and Yaol turned back to his telescope and pushed the Rodian from the eyepiece gently. "Uh... thats.. an asteroid?" He said trying to focus in on it. Was it an asteroid? "I think?" He said finally. The oldest member of their group picked Yaol up and put him down a pace away as she bent to the scope. The thakwaash woman bent an eye to the piece. An analytical personality came to the fore of the woman.
"It is quite massive, not an asteroid, or not just one. It... it looks like someone welded a starship graveyard to a series of asteroids." She said, among some other cries to let them look she waved them off. Her mind working overtime to run calculations. She took out a commlink. "This is Caballus Equus to Anchorhead, we have an object..." She rattled out a series of co-ordinates, "I'm not sure, but based on our manual observation I think it's orbit may bring it... I think it's going to hit."
There was a hash of static as she spoke and waited for a response from Anchorhead, surely someone at the spaceport was listening. Eventually however the line came alive.
"We... we're having difficult, the sto.." As she watched, as they all watched, the storm collapsed leaving only the object plummeting towards Tattoine as evidence. "The storm has abated, sensors confirm that it's projected orbit will bring it down over the dune sea. Its... I've got to go." The commlink went quiet.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jabba studied the information as it came in from his personal starship having immediately decided to avoid being on the planet. His majordomo read off of the screen in front of him. "A hundred and twenty kilometres in length, width and height varies, there are power signatures and electromagnetic sources... some of those vessels that make up the mass have definite power and life form readings, but they're fluctuating and inconsistent. Whatever it is is damaged greatly."
"But what will happen when it hits? Can we stop it?" One of Jabba's guests asked and he grunted in agreement. It was a worthy question.
"The effects will be catastrophic for all life on Tatooine, and the Star Jewel has no way to stop it. If we tried to latch on with our tractor beam we would be pulled in after it. Can the Republic help perhaps?" the Majordomo asked turning to Jabba.
"There is no time." He answered in Huttese as he watched the craft roll in towards his throneworld.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Those with the means fled as they watched the merciless advance of the strange craft. Those who could not could only sit back and watch. They watched as it grew in their vision, filling the skies of Tattoine as it plummeted until, as soon as it touched atmosphere it began to break apart. The roll worsening and growing more chaotic as bits and pieces were incinerated or simply sent on their own catastrophic trajectories into the surface. The skies were on fire as debris fell like rain on the hot desert sands. Those who had faiths offered up their prayers and begged to be saved, those without resigned to a fate they could not escape. Soaring in at over twelve kilometres a second only thirty percent of the mass remained.
At twenty seconds from impact it ignited with colossal star hot spears of engine flame that arrested almost all of the remaining momentum of the strange object. A trench thirty kilometres long was turned into glass as the flames licked at the desert before the asteroid and or starship collided. The destruction was still colossal, such a massive object striking with as much velocity as remained could not help but deliver destruction upon the area in which it had collided.
The Incident
27 BBY - Tattooine
Yaol was somewhat of an outcast. Owning something as quaint as an unpowered telescope was something that did little to earn any respect from his peers, and yet, none of them had prepared for the strange storm in space that had opened up and with a few calls those few peers he called friends had hauled ass over to his place to plant their eye on the eyepiece. It didn't hurt as much they explained, looking at it through the macrobinocs were painful and hurt, and Villu complained that he felt like he was having a bad spice trip.
"Hey, what's that?" One of them said and Yaol turned back to his telescope and pushed the Rodian from the eyepiece gently. "Uh... thats.. an asteroid?" He said trying to focus in on it. Was it an asteroid? "I think?" He said finally. The oldest member of their group picked Yaol up and put him down a pace away as she bent to the scope. The thakwaash woman bent an eye to the piece. An analytical personality came to the fore of the woman.
"It is quite massive, not an asteroid, or not just one. It... it looks like someone welded a starship graveyard to a series of asteroids." She said, among some other cries to let them look she waved them off. Her mind working overtime to run calculations. She took out a commlink. "This is Caballus Equus to Anchorhead, we have an object..." She rattled out a series of co-ordinates, "I'm not sure, but based on our manual observation I think it's orbit may bring it... I think it's going to hit."
There was a hash of static as she spoke and waited for a response from Anchorhead, surely someone at the spaceport was listening. Eventually however the line came alive.
"We... we're having difficult, the sto.." As she watched, as they all watched, the storm collapsed leaving only the object plummeting towards Tattoine as evidence. "The storm has abated, sensors confirm that it's projected orbit will bring it down over the dune sea. Its... I've got to go." The commlink went quiet.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jabba studied the information as it came in from his personal starship having immediately decided to avoid being on the planet. His majordomo read off of the screen in front of him. "A hundred and twenty kilometres in length, width and height varies, there are power signatures and electromagnetic sources... some of those vessels that make up the mass have definite power and life form readings, but they're fluctuating and inconsistent. Whatever it is is damaged greatly."
"But what will happen when it hits? Can we stop it?" One of Jabba's guests asked and he grunted in agreement. It was a worthy question.
"The effects will be catastrophic for all life on Tatooine, and the Star Jewel has no way to stop it. If we tried to latch on with our tractor beam we would be pulled in after it. Can the Republic help perhaps?" the Majordomo asked turning to Jabba.
"There is no time." He answered in Huttese as he watched the craft roll in towards his throneworld.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Those with the means fled as they watched the merciless advance of the strange craft. Those who could not could only sit back and watch. They watched as it grew in their vision, filling the skies of Tattoine as it plummeted until, as soon as it touched atmosphere it began to break apart. The roll worsening and growing more chaotic as bits and pieces were incinerated or simply sent on their own catastrophic trajectories into the surface. The skies were on fire as debris fell like rain on the hot desert sands. Those who had faiths offered up their prayers and begged to be saved, those without resigned to a fate they could not escape. Soaring in at over twelve kilometres a second only thirty percent of the mass remained.
At twenty seconds from impact it ignited with colossal star hot spears of engine flame that arrested almost all of the remaining momentum of the strange object. A trench thirty kilometres long was turned into glass as the flames licked at the desert before the asteroid and or starship collided. The destruction was still colossal, such a massive object striking with as much velocity as remained could not help but deliver destruction upon the area in which it had collided.
CivilReader
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- Land Of Books And Civilization, Sweden
Chapter 1; Salvage Party
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Chapter 1;
Salvage Party
The skiffs hurtled across the desert as the crews watched the approaching impact site with caution in their hearts and macrobinoculars in hand. The sheer scale of the wreckage was intimidating. The fact so much remained of it was equally intimidating. Power fluctuations were detected, wreckage slipped and moved as flickering forcefields came to life, then failed in spectacular bursts of actinic light. As they watched a piece of what looked like ship fell from its perch to the sands below and an explosion rocked the piece. "That was a cannon." One of the occupants of the skiff remarked.
"Bantha shit it was, that piece was huge! Hundred and fifty metres long at least!" Another said before coughing, their facial protection insufficient to avoid a mouthful of sand. The slab sided section they were headed for had relatively few power readings compared to the main body, but it also had less other concerning issues, including what appeared to be a massive, and leaking, fusion or fission reactor. And so they headed for a piece half a kilometre long that had been flung from the main body when the object slammed into the dune sea.
Another three minutes and they had climbed off of the sand skiffs, a variety of vibro weapons, blasters and other salvagers equipment, specifically those carried by scavengers who suspected that the occupants may not be entirely friendly. "We have a sandcrawler in the distance." Their lookout called from the third sand skiff.
"Plenty for everyone Lox." Another called out. "Even the sand people might get a lick in."
As they moved into the wreck a young human man spoke up. "What do you call a tusken virgin?" He asked, "any female that can run faster than her brothers!" He finished the uninvited joke to a set of groans. And then all levity fell away as they found a breach and stepped through a section of hull almost ten metres thick of solid metal. The stress fracture in so thick a piece demonstrated how catastrophic the crash itself had been. But on passing into the depth of whatever they had found, things suddenly took a dark turn for the bizarre.
Tiny green skinned creatures were in various states of disassembly. Vaguely humanoid with pronounced noses and sharp ears, they were clad in little more than rags. The crash had clearly been too much for whatever compensators the vessel used. Glorp, a Gammorean they had convinced to go with them to provide some protection snorted in startlement and promptly threw up. "Ok big fella, pack it in, we knew it probably wasn't gonna be pretty."
"I've got a bad feeling about this." Another woman said.
There was a loud sigh, "You've always 'got a bad feeling about this' it's like you think you're a bloody Jedi or something!" A male answered.
"Have I ever been wrong." She snarled back and the entire group went silent.
"No." The man answered subdued.
And then Glorp stepped back his piggish voice becoming loud, insistent, and utterly meaningless to anyone there. Finally he pointed. Their leader stepped up and went quiet. "Sithspit..." The group crowded in for a look and stepped through a door into a relatively large open space. Other green skinned aliens were present. And they were not small, and not all appeared to have been torn apart by the violence of the crash. She stepped up to the one that had made Glorp back up. It looked terrifying, at least as large in height as Glorp himself and made of corded muscle, she didn't even know how to describe it. At first glance she had wondered if it was some form of Gammorean, or from a similar world.
It grunted as Glorp prodded it with the butt of his vibro axe, then with a ripping snort its face contorted into various expressions before its eyes. It moved, climbing to its feet in only a few moments as it studied the intruders. It barked something in a bestial tongue... only then did she see it, the eyes of the alien were red with nothing more than a pair of black pupils to show where its attention was focussed. And then it roared a demand, question, order or something.
The expression of puzzlement grew as it turned from one of them to the other. It turned away from them to study the space around it when she heard it utter a low whistle, not the sort one used to attract attention, the sort sometimes used when things were more than a little fucked up and you had to decide whether it was your problem or not. And then it reached down and picked up a severed arm from one of the smaller greenskins and stuck the meaty end into its mouth where it began to chew thoughtfully. Horror filled her, and the rest of the salvage party as the creature turned back to face them and they realised it had taken a weapon from its belt and was now even more dangerous than its raw muscle would suggest. It spoke again, this time it sounded different, almost like a human language if with a horrible guttural accent.
Then it shrugged and before any of them could react it had lifted its weapon and fired at point blank into Glorp's head. Half a dozen shells were fired in the burst, and only two of them had collected the Gammorean, but it didn't matter when their tips detonated within the Gammoreans skull.
The Vibroaxe, activated in his last moments had gone sailing down towards the greenskin and split its skull and its contents as those who could unloaded their blasters into the massively muscled greenskin. The panic abated as the corpse crashed to the deck.
For a moment. Just a moment. They wondered if they would be free and clear. It was a false hope that they could not have helped but come to, but it was a hope that was arrested and aborted when they looked around the open space and saw many of the larger forms getting to their feet, shaking groggy heads. The sound of blaster fire increased as they tried to prevent the creatures from gaining their feet, the scavengers scattering for the false hope of good cover, better aim, and that the aliens would be disoriented long enough for them to make their credits.
For ten minutes they continued to fire at anything moving in the chamber and it seemed that luck was on their side.
Silence fell over the bay. The echoe of gunfire clearing from their ears as they took stock and realised that, thanks to their enemies infirmity only three of them had been killed by the more sturdy members of the species.
"Ok, grab anything of value and get back to the skiffs... and can a couple of people grab one of those bodies, I think we may want to take it back to show folk." The words were reasoned, reasonable and made sense and the scavengers made to get back to work when the first sound reached them. The sounds of stomping ringing across the deck as dozens, perhaps hundreds of beings closed on their position. "On second thoughts, pucker your assholes and run like a horny rancor is after it!"
Their leader turned to discover everyone already halfway to the exit.
Salvage Party
The skiffs hurtled across the desert as the crews watched the approaching impact site with caution in their hearts and macrobinoculars in hand. The sheer scale of the wreckage was intimidating. The fact so much remained of it was equally intimidating. Power fluctuations were detected, wreckage slipped and moved as flickering forcefields came to life, then failed in spectacular bursts of actinic light. As they watched a piece of what looked like ship fell from its perch to the sands below and an explosion rocked the piece. "That was a cannon." One of the occupants of the skiff remarked.
"Bantha shit it was, that piece was huge! Hundred and fifty metres long at least!" Another said before coughing, their facial protection insufficient to avoid a mouthful of sand. The slab sided section they were headed for had relatively few power readings compared to the main body, but it also had less other concerning issues, including what appeared to be a massive, and leaking, fusion or fission reactor. And so they headed for a piece half a kilometre long that had been flung from the main body when the object slammed into the dune sea.
Another three minutes and they had climbed off of the sand skiffs, a variety of vibro weapons, blasters and other salvagers equipment, specifically those carried by scavengers who suspected that the occupants may not be entirely friendly. "We have a sandcrawler in the distance." Their lookout called from the third sand skiff.
"Plenty for everyone Lox." Another called out. "Even the sand people might get a lick in."
As they moved into the wreck a young human man spoke up. "What do you call a tusken virgin?" He asked, "any female that can run faster than her brothers!" He finished the uninvited joke to a set of groans. And then all levity fell away as they found a breach and stepped through a section of hull almost ten metres thick of solid metal. The stress fracture in so thick a piece demonstrated how catastrophic the crash itself had been. But on passing into the depth of whatever they had found, things suddenly took a dark turn for the bizarre.
Tiny green skinned creatures were in various states of disassembly. Vaguely humanoid with pronounced noses and sharp ears, they were clad in little more than rags. The crash had clearly been too much for whatever compensators the vessel used. Glorp, a Gammorean they had convinced to go with them to provide some protection snorted in startlement and promptly threw up. "Ok big fella, pack it in, we knew it probably wasn't gonna be pretty."
"I've got a bad feeling about this." Another woman said.
There was a loud sigh, "You've always 'got a bad feeling about this' it's like you think you're a bloody Jedi or something!" A male answered.
"Have I ever been wrong." She snarled back and the entire group went silent.
"No." The man answered subdued.
And then Glorp stepped back his piggish voice becoming loud, insistent, and utterly meaningless to anyone there. Finally he pointed. Their leader stepped up and went quiet. "Sithspit..." The group crowded in for a look and stepped through a door into a relatively large open space. Other green skinned aliens were present. And they were not small, and not all appeared to have been torn apart by the violence of the crash. She stepped up to the one that had made Glorp back up. It looked terrifying, at least as large in height as Glorp himself and made of corded muscle, she didn't even know how to describe it. At first glance she had wondered if it was some form of Gammorean, or from a similar world.
It grunted as Glorp prodded it with the butt of his vibro axe, then with a ripping snort its face contorted into various expressions before its eyes. It moved, climbing to its feet in only a few moments as it studied the intruders. It barked something in a bestial tongue... only then did she see it, the eyes of the alien were red with nothing more than a pair of black pupils to show where its attention was focussed. And then it roared a demand, question, order or something.
The expression of puzzlement grew as it turned from one of them to the other. It turned away from them to study the space around it when she heard it utter a low whistle, not the sort one used to attract attention, the sort sometimes used when things were more than a little fucked up and you had to decide whether it was your problem or not. And then it reached down and picked up a severed arm from one of the smaller greenskins and stuck the meaty end into its mouth where it began to chew thoughtfully. Horror filled her, and the rest of the salvage party as the creature turned back to face them and they realised it had taken a weapon from its belt and was now even more dangerous than its raw muscle would suggest. It spoke again, this time it sounded different, almost like a human language if with a horrible guttural accent.
Then it shrugged and before any of them could react it had lifted its weapon and fired at point blank into Glorp's head. Half a dozen shells were fired in the burst, and only two of them had collected the Gammorean, but it didn't matter when their tips detonated within the Gammoreans skull.
The Vibroaxe, activated in his last moments had gone sailing down towards the greenskin and split its skull and its contents as those who could unloaded their blasters into the massively muscled greenskin. The panic abated as the corpse crashed to the deck.
For a moment. Just a moment. They wondered if they would be free and clear. It was a false hope that they could not have helped but come to, but it was a hope that was arrested and aborted when they looked around the open space and saw many of the larger forms getting to their feet, shaking groggy heads. The sound of blaster fire increased as they tried to prevent the creatures from gaining their feet, the scavengers scattering for the false hope of good cover, better aim, and that the aliens would be disoriented long enough for them to make their credits.
For ten minutes they continued to fire at anything moving in the chamber and it seemed that luck was on their side.
Silence fell over the bay. The echoe of gunfire clearing from their ears as they took stock and realised that, thanks to their enemies infirmity only three of them had been killed by the more sturdy members of the species.
"Ok, grab anything of value and get back to the skiffs... and can a couple of people grab one of those bodies, I think we may want to take it back to show folk." The words were reasoned, reasonable and made sense and the scavengers made to get back to work when the first sound reached them. The sounds of stomping ringing across the deck as dozens, perhaps hundreds of beings closed on their position. "On second thoughts, pucker your assholes and run like a horny rancor is after it!"
Their leader turned to discover everyone already halfway to the exit.
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
- Location
- Vortice between realities
Technically it is not no. It's its own thing.... on the flipside, it's Orks in SW, so *functionally* it is a reboot in a sense yes
- Location
- yorkshire
Ere we go Ere we go Ere we go Ere we go Ere we go
Orks:Waaagh!
Worse part of the orcs is if you use your superlaser then they build starkiller base in a cave with a box a scrap so the normal superweapons won't help SW... the only real thing that I can think of being effective is the Defoliator.
Oh this gona be fun!
WAAAAGH!!
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_E-23lto5YY
The clones I feel they will be confused about this situation.
On the one hand they will have to fight against unpredictable green monsters.
But on the other hand they will be happy that they cannot be decommissioned as there is an eternal war.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySRVF7WnX9g
WAAAAGH!!
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_E-23lto5YY
The clones I feel they will be confused about this situation.
On the one hand they will have to fight against unpredictable green monsters.
But on the other hand they will be happy that they cannot be decommissioned as there is an eternal war.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySRVF7WnX9g
Chapta Too; Wots da sitch?
New
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
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- Vortice between realities
Chapta Too;
Wots da sitch?
Activity in the Skavenga Kween was at an all time high after the rather crappy landing by the gits in charge of the Space Hulk Tardiz. The attack ship had been ripped from its moorings and flung like a gretchin in a game of grotball and now Gork, or Mork, had given them a bit of a fight in the pub. Itza Luga snapped his power claw as he howled off in pursuit of the intruders who had shot up his favourite pub and then had the gall to try and run away without letting him have a go. The Kaptin was not far behind him bellowing instructions and applying swift kicks where they would be most needed. He surged out of the rip in the hull and saw a bunch of gits climbing on floaty sleds. Bolts of red and green came back towards him and he lowered his kombi-shoota, unleashing the under-barrel burna. "OY DON'T LEAVE WIVOUT UZ!" He snarled and pulled the other trigger as the small fuel cell for his burna used its entire load. Four corpses adorned the deck of the closest floaty thing.
A dozen bolts smacked into his armour, most of it harmless, but two of them blasted chunks out of his favourite shoulder. They were crying out something in various tongues, and then one drew an item from his belt and Luga broke into a hard run as he felt the weight of the boyz behind him howling with glee. Panic set in and two of the vehicles with drivers behind their controls shot off into the sands without becoming fully laden by their original occupants, a tall lizard looking person turned and raised his weapon firing it directly towards Luga and Luga roared as he sprinted closing the distance.
The barrage of bolts from it was short, but Luga felt every one of them before his power claw closed over the lizards torso and snapped shut. The remainder of the fight was short and sweet with the collection of umies and uvva gits making good sport, they didn't get any more of the boyz of course, they'd been running and let them close in too much.
But the remaining vehicles had made their escapes bought with the lives of the more courageous gits.
"Boss, dis wun izn't ded."
Luga turned to the creature that was indicated and studied it. Hoomie sized, but a green-blue, with a strange mouth, antennae and suction cup fingers. It was bleeding green all over the desert sands where the slugga had punched a fist sized hole in the alien. It writhed in agony as Luga came over. His power fist closed over the Rodians throat and he lifted the creature from the ground.
"Wot iz yoo?" He demanded. There were gurgling sounds and others that might even have been words. "Any uvva gitz still got most of 'dere blood on da inside? Dis wun iz broke."
"Nah boss." One of the other boyz said poking a corpse with his 'eavy shoota. "Not even sure if dis wun az all iz' inside gubbinz... well, inside." Luga wasn't sure either, he had no idea what the think Dagnutz was poking was.
The Rodian had stopped struggling, settling fro trying to hold onto the power klaw with one hand, and the hole in his guts with the other. "Oh well, we kan go git more."
The power klaw snapped closed.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Mekboss Urtog Spinesnappa Kroozamekaniak felt a rage in the very core of his soul, he had finally done it, claimed a Space Hulk for his own, had his boyz bolt their ships on and prepare for the waaagh of all waaaghs, following Ghazghkull to the ends of the universe. But no, one little space hole, and an accident with a shokk attack gun, greased snotling and a snotshroom sandwich and he crashed his brand new hulk on who the snot knew where!
And it was, to make matters worse, another desert with no signs of a good scrap in sight! "Wotz da sitch?" He demanded of his kommand krew.
"Shittaz klogged boss." One answered, covered in excrement from landing in the drops, and covered in lacerations from the face-eater squigs he'd had to eat to get back out alive. Another slapped him on the back of the head, then vigorously tried to wipe off his paw on his trousers.
A third, his sekkond, Rigga stepped onto a chair by climbing over the chair back with one leg. "Da 'ulk iz skrap boss, lots uv it wuz lost on smashdown, wot we didn't lose is pretty jangled up, and most uv da boyz iz ded. Got meybbe an undred undred waaaghbands." Urtog snarled and turned to another Ork, bigger and meaner than he sekkond, but no mekboy. He was however a kommando-boss.
The Kommando took the reigns of the report, "Ribcage az it rite, we iz rite fukked, almost all uv da trukks, trakks, wagons wuz wrecked in da crash. Wuddent 'ave been a prob, but all da leakin go juice made fer a nice kampfire."
"Da Stompaz? Da Gargant?" Urtog snarled and the Kommando took off his strange cap.
"S'not gud boss. Da Cheef Mekaniak down 'dere sez we iz gonna 'av ta scrap a lot 'an find more bezides in orda to get everyfing back in orda." Rigga shrugged. "Iz bad boss, like da stories uv Gorkamorka."
"So we need skrap?" He said. "Wot'z dat 'den?" Urtog pointed out of the metres thick transparent metal that had formed part of his 'bridge'. In the distance a tracked vehicle with a tall deck and an underhanging slope was approaching the nearest piece of wreckage.
"Dunno boss." They all said.
"SKRAP! ITZ LOOT AND GUBBINZ! SO GO GIT IT!"
Wots da sitch?
Activity in the Skavenga Kween was at an all time high after the rather crappy landing by the gits in charge of the Space Hulk Tardiz. The attack ship had been ripped from its moorings and flung like a gretchin in a game of grotball and now Gork, or Mork, had given them a bit of a fight in the pub. Itza Luga snapped his power claw as he howled off in pursuit of the intruders who had shot up his favourite pub and then had the gall to try and run away without letting him have a go. The Kaptin was not far behind him bellowing instructions and applying swift kicks where they would be most needed. He surged out of the rip in the hull and saw a bunch of gits climbing on floaty sleds. Bolts of red and green came back towards him and he lowered his kombi-shoota, unleashing the under-barrel burna. "OY DON'T LEAVE WIVOUT UZ!" He snarled and pulled the other trigger as the small fuel cell for his burna used its entire load. Four corpses adorned the deck of the closest floaty thing.
A dozen bolts smacked into his armour, most of it harmless, but two of them blasted chunks out of his favourite shoulder. They were crying out something in various tongues, and then one drew an item from his belt and Luga broke into a hard run as he felt the weight of the boyz behind him howling with glee. Panic set in and two of the vehicles with drivers behind their controls shot off into the sands without becoming fully laden by their original occupants, a tall lizard looking person turned and raised his weapon firing it directly towards Luga and Luga roared as he sprinted closing the distance.
The barrage of bolts from it was short, but Luga felt every one of them before his power claw closed over the lizards torso and snapped shut. The remainder of the fight was short and sweet with the collection of umies and uvva gits making good sport, they didn't get any more of the boyz of course, they'd been running and let them close in too much.
But the remaining vehicles had made their escapes bought with the lives of the more courageous gits.
"Boss, dis wun izn't ded."
Luga turned to the creature that was indicated and studied it. Hoomie sized, but a green-blue, with a strange mouth, antennae and suction cup fingers. It was bleeding green all over the desert sands where the slugga had punched a fist sized hole in the alien. It writhed in agony as Luga came over. His power fist closed over the Rodians throat and he lifted the creature from the ground.
"Wot iz yoo?" He demanded. There were gurgling sounds and others that might even have been words. "Any uvva gitz still got most of 'dere blood on da inside? Dis wun iz broke."
"Nah boss." One of the other boyz said poking a corpse with his 'eavy shoota. "Not even sure if dis wun az all iz' inside gubbinz... well, inside." Luga wasn't sure either, he had no idea what the think Dagnutz was poking was.
The Rodian had stopped struggling, settling fro trying to hold onto the power klaw with one hand, and the hole in his guts with the other. "Oh well, we kan go git more."
The power klaw snapped closed.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Mekboss Urtog Spinesnappa Kroozamekaniak felt a rage in the very core of his soul, he had finally done it, claimed a Space Hulk for his own, had his boyz bolt their ships on and prepare for the waaagh of all waaaghs, following Ghazghkull to the ends of the universe. But no, one little space hole, and an accident with a shokk attack gun, greased snotling and a snotshroom sandwich and he crashed his brand new hulk on who the snot knew where!
And it was, to make matters worse, another desert with no signs of a good scrap in sight! "Wotz da sitch?" He demanded of his kommand krew.
"Shittaz klogged boss." One answered, covered in excrement from landing in the drops, and covered in lacerations from the face-eater squigs he'd had to eat to get back out alive. Another slapped him on the back of the head, then vigorously tried to wipe off his paw on his trousers.
A third, his sekkond, Rigga stepped onto a chair by climbing over the chair back with one leg. "Da 'ulk iz skrap boss, lots uv it wuz lost on smashdown, wot we didn't lose is pretty jangled up, and most uv da boyz iz ded. Got meybbe an undred undred waaaghbands." Urtog snarled and turned to another Ork, bigger and meaner than he sekkond, but no mekboy. He was however a kommando-boss.
The Kommando took the reigns of the report, "Ribcage az it rite, we iz rite fukked, almost all uv da trukks, trakks, wagons wuz wrecked in da crash. Wuddent 'ave been a prob, but all da leakin go juice made fer a nice kampfire."
"Da Stompaz? Da Gargant?" Urtog snarled and the Kommando took off his strange cap.
"S'not gud boss. Da Cheef Mekaniak down 'dere sez we iz gonna 'av ta scrap a lot 'an find more bezides in orda to get everyfing back in orda." Rigga shrugged. "Iz bad boss, like da stories uv Gorkamorka."
"So we need skrap?" He said. "Wot'z dat 'den?" Urtog pointed out of the metres thick transparent metal that had formed part of his 'bridge'. In the distance a tracked vehicle with a tall deck and an underhanging slope was approaching the nearest piece of wreckage.
"Dunno boss." They all said.
"SKRAP! ITZ LOOT AND GUBBINZ! SO GO GIT IT!"
well palpatines empire is going to be non-existant. the hilarious thin is the sepratists woould throw all their forces at the and all it would do is drown the orks in scrap. lol.
One positive the orks spores did genuinly terraform planets to a sort of livable state.
Also dont show an ork the death star, thats just flirting with them
One positive the orks spores did genuinly terraform planets to a sort of livable state.
Also dont show an ork the death star, thats just flirting with them
So, is this tzeentch's attempt to flirt with Abeloth, or just life finding a way? If this is pre clone wars, shmii is still alive, though probably not for long. At least anakin can go Vader on the orcs without feeling guilty... wait a minute... the wierd-Boyzz can probably drop a warp portal on Skywalker. Or bait in some starwierds. Star wars without skywalkers. Will the fungi of felucia outcompete orc spores, or hasten their spread? The vong might see the Boyz and decide to bum-rush the galaxy early in an attempt to restock their worldship and head for the next one.
Wow that is certainly.... unique, so to say.
Chapter 3; It's Manageable Isn't It?
New
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
- Location
- Vortice between realities
Chapter 3;
It's Manageable Isn't It?
Bib Fortuna felt an uncommon degree of frustration as he arrived at Jabba's palace with a sizeable security detachment. The strange crash was all the talk and rage, but it was also the problem. And now he had been sent to speak with a number of scavengers who had reached one of the pieces of wreckage and managed to return, it had taken almost a week and a half to coax them out of hiding, the fact they had stolen some of Jabba's sandskiffs had caused them to try and bury themselves.
But Jabba valued the information more than he valued the skiffs, and it wasn't like they'd managed to get the Khetanna out of her berth. But the bloated abomination wanted him to get information from these fearful children. And as he entered the main audience chamber, he saw the would-be-salvagers lounging around. Their relaxed attitudes ended abruptly when they realised that they weren't alone. The sight of the Gammoreans and other gangsters with raised blasters driving every thought but survival from their minds.
But there was a rotting corpse on one of the tables. It was not large, almost childlike in size. But its proportions were almost like that of a kowakian monkey lizard, and its sharp facial features seemed almost evil to him.
He turned to face the group once more and pointed at the natural leader for a group like that. "You. Talk." The scavenger practically fell over themselves at being singled out and a gibbered explanation for what they had found began to spill out in a series of stuttering stories, backtracks for detail, and the occasionally helpful interruption from one of the others to add details or observatinos that they had noticed and the spokesperson had not.
The bottom line of it however was that the dead think on the table was one of many many that had been killed in the crash, but wasn't the one who had attacked them. The ones that had done the attack were apparently much larger, and more heavily muscled than any Gammorean they knew of. "Get them out of here." He snarled to the guards and they bundled out the scavengers who had left a couple of objects from the crashed ship that had been grabbed in the mad scramble. The corpse was stinking, and had been here for some days waiting for them to come back apparently. But those were the concern of Jabba's doctors his concern right now was the various items brought back.
It was immediately clear that they had simply grabbed anything that they could reach or carry on the run, a necklace of what he suppressed a sound of revulsion when he realised that they were ears. A bag full of what looked like dissolving teeth, large prominent fangs that could almost have come from a Gammorean. There were no overtly technological artefacts except for one, and Bib had actually had a moments surprise as he tried to lift the heavy weapon, it was proportioned like a pistol but its grip was so large that he couldn't enclose it in his hand.
He aimed at a table with it, trying to hold it up with both hands its surprising weight, almost twice that of a heavy blaster pistol. And squeezed the trigger. Everyone in the room jumped at the utter roar of noise, a table exploded, not the one he had aimed at, and the recoil of the massive weapon slammed it into Bib's nose breaking it as thoroughly as a nose can be broken without killing you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"They're still working on it?" The old man asked as he climbed up to the ridge.
"Yeah Da, ... I think they've eaten all the Jawas." The girl retched slightly. She'd never seen a Jawa outside of its robes before. And she'd be happier if she never did again, let alone see the inside of them while being roasted over an open flame. "Right now they've been modifying the Sandcrawler." She passed over the Macrobinoculars to her father. "It doesn't look good."
He took them and laid down on the stone turning his macrobinoculars on the sight, crude walls were being erected, along with other more crude buildings, but the more complex was around the Sandcrawler, scaffolding was being erected over it and he could see the massive weapon laying uncared for in the sand, clearly slated for installation on the back of it. But all across the Sandcrawler there was activity. Thick bolts of armour were being welded on in a seemingly haphazard pattern, parts were being gutted and stripped out, holes crudely cut into the metal were soon joined by the long muzzles of weapons. But those were merely trivial details.
His own interest lay with the large green skinned aliens undertaking the work. Massive and muscled, their brutish language was faintly audible through the macrobinoculars pickups. The largest creatures were directing the work and accentuating their commands with swift kicks and other violent overtures. The smallest were few in number, but increasing daily. In the shadows of the wreckage strange alien plant life was growing and thriving despite the conditions.
Then her father froze. "Da, what is it."
"Tuskens." He said reaching for his own rifle. "We need to..."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wreckage from the stars had settled into a basin in the dune seas and Ggor'Urkk'Llog moved cautiously through the sands his cycler rifle held at low ready. The sight of the Sandcrawler being cannibalised and modified had troubled the elders and they wanted a scouting party sent to investigate. The others moved swiftly behind him, their Bantha's left near the rocks half a kilometre away. The starfallen's tongue was unfamiliar, but its harsh tonalities made it more pleasant than the chirping of human invaders let alone other more musical aliens.
And then one of them noticed the group on approach and turned, barking a cry to its comrades. Ggor ceased his stealthy approach as he considered the words of his elders. They wanted to know of the outworlders. They had been seen assaulting a salvage party and trying to kill them. He held up his rifle and called out a greeting. He was not so foolish as to put down his weapon however. One didn't become an Elder by making oneself defenceless.
He noticed that several of the weapons that had been bolted onto the Sandcrawler had turned towards him. But those were nothing. Green skinned creatures boiled out of it like a small ocean of angry flesh and he saw the most massive one of them by almost a full metre of height make its way to the fore, beating back those in the way. A crackling tower reached over its right shoulder and Ggor could actually see the force field flicker into existence, before flickering out once again.
The monster began to make his way towards him and his courage nearly failed him, only the words of the Elder's in his ears kept his courage. And that soon wouldn't be enough. The smell of the mass of creatures was beginning to waft over him. Was this what humans thought of the people? He dismissed the blasphemous thought as soon as he had it.
He had to, he was trying to retch, the massive creature had moved with an incredible swiftness and plucked one of the tiniest of their kind from around its feet and stuffed it into its metal toothed maw.
Ggor began to make a series of hand gestures, intending to explain that they did not intend for anything violent. The other of the people held their own weapons to the side, carefully lowering them to exaggerate that they were choosing to pose no threat. He began to speak. <You come upon the sands of the people unbidden and unwelcome of no choice of your own. We would treat with you.>
The colossal alien grunted slightly and took one massive paw and twisted it for Ggor to continue. Ggor was confused but continued to speak. The aliens eyes narrowing, at least its organic one did. The massive cybernetic one was unchanging. And then Ggor was startled. The alien spoke. <You. Ggor. Of People?>
The speech was crude, and the structure of its mouth mangled the words into an atrocious accent. But understandable. <I am.>
<Your people. Warriors?> The creature asked. Ggor nodded and despite its appearance Ggor could not help but understand the expression of unadulated joy. <'ERE DAT BOYZ!> It cried in improving Tusken, and to Ggor's surprise, the other creatures did seem to understand. He wondered how something so crude could have such a grasp of his tongue already. <DERE MIGHT BE A WAAAGH AFTA ALL!> It turned back to him. <Wot about da 'umies'.>
Ggor struggled with the rapid pace the Ork seemed to be adapting to their tongue, though its horrific accent would not go away, the structure of its throat was too clearly designed for another tongue. <There are humans on our world, invaders who have taken our water and our world from us.>
<Umie invadaz.. wot 'bout da uvva xeenoos'> The creature used a word that only context let Ggor realise was 'aliens'.
The sheer level of excitement in the crowd was beginning to worry him. They were hopping from one foot to another, slapping backs and clearly happy. <They are also invaders who took our world from us.>
<Wot wud yoo pay fer uz to 'ave a gud scrap wiv dem?> The monster asked.
Ggor looked to his colleagues, unsure. <We have little. Water, weapons..>
<Gunz?> The monster asked. Ggor nodded. <Let uz loot da xeenoos 'an umiez, give uz gunz, an dere will be no problem.>
Ggor hesitated. <I must speak to the Elders. I cannot decide.>
<Gud. Speek to yer Elderz. We iz gonna prepare fer a Waaagh!> And with that last word every single greenskin roared that final word with a gusto that could not be matched by mere words.
It's Manageable Isn't It?
Bib Fortuna felt an uncommon degree of frustration as he arrived at Jabba's palace with a sizeable security detachment. The strange crash was all the talk and rage, but it was also the problem. And now he had been sent to speak with a number of scavengers who had reached one of the pieces of wreckage and managed to return, it had taken almost a week and a half to coax them out of hiding, the fact they had stolen some of Jabba's sandskiffs had caused them to try and bury themselves.
But Jabba valued the information more than he valued the skiffs, and it wasn't like they'd managed to get the Khetanna out of her berth. But the bloated abomination wanted him to get information from these fearful children. And as he entered the main audience chamber, he saw the would-be-salvagers lounging around. Their relaxed attitudes ended abruptly when they realised that they weren't alone. The sight of the Gammoreans and other gangsters with raised blasters driving every thought but survival from their minds.
But there was a rotting corpse on one of the tables. It was not large, almost childlike in size. But its proportions were almost like that of a kowakian monkey lizard, and its sharp facial features seemed almost evil to him.
He turned to face the group once more and pointed at the natural leader for a group like that. "You. Talk." The scavenger practically fell over themselves at being singled out and a gibbered explanation for what they had found began to spill out in a series of stuttering stories, backtracks for detail, and the occasionally helpful interruption from one of the others to add details or observatinos that they had noticed and the spokesperson had not.
The bottom line of it however was that the dead think on the table was one of many many that had been killed in the crash, but wasn't the one who had attacked them. The ones that had done the attack were apparently much larger, and more heavily muscled than any Gammorean they knew of. "Get them out of here." He snarled to the guards and they bundled out the scavengers who had left a couple of objects from the crashed ship that had been grabbed in the mad scramble. The corpse was stinking, and had been here for some days waiting for them to come back apparently. But those were the concern of Jabba's doctors his concern right now was the various items brought back.
It was immediately clear that they had simply grabbed anything that they could reach or carry on the run, a necklace of what he suppressed a sound of revulsion when he realised that they were ears. A bag full of what looked like dissolving teeth, large prominent fangs that could almost have come from a Gammorean. There were no overtly technological artefacts except for one, and Bib had actually had a moments surprise as he tried to lift the heavy weapon, it was proportioned like a pistol but its grip was so large that he couldn't enclose it in his hand.
He aimed at a table with it, trying to hold it up with both hands its surprising weight, almost twice that of a heavy blaster pistol. And squeezed the trigger. Everyone in the room jumped at the utter roar of noise, a table exploded, not the one he had aimed at, and the recoil of the massive weapon slammed it into Bib's nose breaking it as thoroughly as a nose can be broken without killing you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"They're still working on it?" The old man asked as he climbed up to the ridge.
"Yeah Da, ... I think they've eaten all the Jawas." The girl retched slightly. She'd never seen a Jawa outside of its robes before. And she'd be happier if she never did again, let alone see the inside of them while being roasted over an open flame. "Right now they've been modifying the Sandcrawler." She passed over the Macrobinoculars to her father. "It doesn't look good."
He took them and laid down on the stone turning his macrobinoculars on the sight, crude walls were being erected, along with other more crude buildings, but the more complex was around the Sandcrawler, scaffolding was being erected over it and he could see the massive weapon laying uncared for in the sand, clearly slated for installation on the back of it. But all across the Sandcrawler there was activity. Thick bolts of armour were being welded on in a seemingly haphazard pattern, parts were being gutted and stripped out, holes crudely cut into the metal were soon joined by the long muzzles of weapons. But those were merely trivial details.
His own interest lay with the large green skinned aliens undertaking the work. Massive and muscled, their brutish language was faintly audible through the macrobinoculars pickups. The largest creatures were directing the work and accentuating their commands with swift kicks and other violent overtures. The smallest were few in number, but increasing daily. In the shadows of the wreckage strange alien plant life was growing and thriving despite the conditions.
Then her father froze. "Da, what is it."
"Tuskens." He said reaching for his own rifle. "We need to..."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wreckage from the stars had settled into a basin in the dune seas and Ggor'Urkk'Llog moved cautiously through the sands his cycler rifle held at low ready. The sight of the Sandcrawler being cannibalised and modified had troubled the elders and they wanted a scouting party sent to investigate. The others moved swiftly behind him, their Bantha's left near the rocks half a kilometre away. The starfallen's tongue was unfamiliar, but its harsh tonalities made it more pleasant than the chirping of human invaders let alone other more musical aliens.
And then one of them noticed the group on approach and turned, barking a cry to its comrades. Ggor ceased his stealthy approach as he considered the words of his elders. They wanted to know of the outworlders. They had been seen assaulting a salvage party and trying to kill them. He held up his rifle and called out a greeting. He was not so foolish as to put down his weapon however. One didn't become an Elder by making oneself defenceless.
He noticed that several of the weapons that had been bolted onto the Sandcrawler had turned towards him. But those were nothing. Green skinned creatures boiled out of it like a small ocean of angry flesh and he saw the most massive one of them by almost a full metre of height make its way to the fore, beating back those in the way. A crackling tower reached over its right shoulder and Ggor could actually see the force field flicker into existence, before flickering out once again.
The monster began to make his way towards him and his courage nearly failed him, only the words of the Elder's in his ears kept his courage. And that soon wouldn't be enough. The smell of the mass of creatures was beginning to waft over him. Was this what humans thought of the people? He dismissed the blasphemous thought as soon as he had it.
He had to, he was trying to retch, the massive creature had moved with an incredible swiftness and plucked one of the tiniest of their kind from around its feet and stuffed it into its metal toothed maw.
Ggor began to make a series of hand gestures, intending to explain that they did not intend for anything violent. The other of the people held their own weapons to the side, carefully lowering them to exaggerate that they were choosing to pose no threat. He began to speak. <You come upon the sands of the people unbidden and unwelcome of no choice of your own. We would treat with you.>
The colossal alien grunted slightly and took one massive paw and twisted it for Ggor to continue. Ggor was confused but continued to speak. The aliens eyes narrowing, at least its organic one did. The massive cybernetic one was unchanging. And then Ggor was startled. The alien spoke. <You. Ggor. Of People?>
The speech was crude, and the structure of its mouth mangled the words into an atrocious accent. But understandable. <I am.>
<Your people. Warriors?> The creature asked. Ggor nodded and despite its appearance Ggor could not help but understand the expression of unadulated joy. <'ERE DAT BOYZ!> It cried in improving Tusken, and to Ggor's surprise, the other creatures did seem to understand. He wondered how something so crude could have such a grasp of his tongue already. <DERE MIGHT BE A WAAAGH AFTA ALL!> It turned back to him. <Wot about da 'umies'.>
Ggor struggled with the rapid pace the Ork seemed to be adapting to their tongue, though its horrific accent would not go away, the structure of its throat was too clearly designed for another tongue. <There are humans on our world, invaders who have taken our water and our world from us.>
<Umie invadaz.. wot 'bout da uvva xeenoos'> The creature used a word that only context let Ggor realise was 'aliens'.
The sheer level of excitement in the crowd was beginning to worry him. They were hopping from one foot to another, slapping backs and clearly happy. <They are also invaders who took our world from us.>
<Wot wud yoo pay fer uz to 'ave a gud scrap wiv dem?> The monster asked.
Ggor looked to his colleagues, unsure. <We have little. Water, weapons..>
<Gunz?> The monster asked. Ggor nodded. <Let uz loot da xeenoos 'an umiez, give uz gunz, an dere will be no problem.>
Ggor hesitated. <I must speak to the Elders. I cannot decide.>
<Gud. Speek to yer Elderz. We iz gonna prepare fer a Waaagh!> And with that last word every single greenskin roared that final word with a gusto that could not be matched by mere words.
AFAIK only Necrons & maybe Eldar have reactionless drives in 40k.
Would the drive exhaust needed to arrest the descent of the space hulk actually do any less damage to the planet than an unarrested impact?
I reckon meaningful deceleration, other than airbraking, of something like a space hulk within the atmosphere would be a biosphere destroying event.
Then again, Legends canon has 'sublight' drives which actually go faster than c and human pilots use them in atmosphere so maybe The Force just handwaves all that kinda thing in the interest of maximising interstellar life (& therefore its influence).
The only way I can see for the galaxy far far away to survive this relatively unscathed is containing the orkz to Tatooine and using lots and lots of ortillery. The idea of manually burning all the spores to de-ork a planet is so ridiculous it can only really exist in 40k.
The entire Jedi population of 27bby couldn't have contained this situation had they conveniently been nearby at the start.
The Republic would be forced to conscript every able bodied men and women (human, Near Human and alien alike) into the Grand Army when Kamino had to exhaust themselves in producing more and more Clone Troopers even if Palpatine tried to claim all Banking Clans' assets to pay them.
Or that the citizens of the Republic would end up willingly join the military when their homeworlds were in danger of the Orks more than the Separatists did, becoming the TK Troopers like in the Bad Batch but Clone Commandos train them seriously, including even Gregor the resident madman himself.
The tuskens are about to learn that the orks rejoice at worth foes. So they're going to have to fight orks, but they night be able to preserve their noncombatants by proving they're worth keeping around as a grindstone.
I wonder if the native killik hives will adapt to the orks by emulating tyrranids? And would the orks and abominators (see the great heap) collaborate or conflict?
I wonder if the native killik hives will adapt to the orks by emulating tyrranids? And would the orks and abominators (see the great heap) collaborate or conflict?
- Location
- A Pit Of My Own Making
- Pronouns
- He/Him
This is my pet peeve, so sorry for being dramatic, but
A PROLOGUE IS NOT THE FIRST CHAPTER!!!
It's the "pro, log", the pre log (no I don't get it either), it comes before the actual start of the story!
So in this case it be how the orks got themselves transported, or a look at the galaxy's current situation! Not just... THE FIRST CHAPTER!!! AAAGH!
Sorry again, but it really annoys me! Intresting story otherwise.
Chapta For Da Dune See
New
Kadaeux
Delta Imperator
- Location
- Vortice between realities
Chapta For
Da Dune See
Ships launched and the greenskins in the sand continued to lay low. Watching through almost comically oversized binoculars and telescopes. "Dere's a lot uv ships lawnching frum 'dere boss. Lotz uv traffik."
"Not dat many gitz though." The Nob observed. The city of Mos Espa lay before them and had actually paid some kind of attention to the threat of the boyz as he could see them building some sort of weapon towers. Couldn't have been more than ten, fifteen thousand. The Sandy Gitz considered this a major point of interest, and enemies.
"EY! LOOKSEE AT DAT!" The orks all turned to see a bunch of vehicles on a track, and the baying crowds in the auditorium. And then at a signal they shot off from the mark at massive velocities. "OH BOSS WE.."
A massive fist clubbed him around the back of the head, "Shaddup. Juzt wotch fer now. We iz gonna nick em lata." And so the Orks sat there and watched the Boonta Eve classic as they roared around the track, various vehicles being destroyed or otherwise disabled. Laser fire from one turn in the race indicated that the sand gitz were doing their own part to... the Nob suddenly stood. "WOT!? NO. WE IZ GONNA NICK STUFF NOW! ALL DEZE GITZ IS WOTCHING DA RACE!" And with that he surged to his feet and began to surge towards Mos Espa with the rest of the Kommandos following him closely.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"These 'ork' things are a myth, it was just an asteroid we missed, the Big Hutts are using the story to control where we move and to make us look selfish when we complain about their new weapon towers." The Rodian said to his Ithorian friend as they enjoyed some ale they had liberated from a storehouse with everyone distracted by the pod race. They were looking at one of the towers even now as it was being built. Apparently they would be topped with a laser cannon and a pair of repeating blaster cannons.
"Uh... Meeko, I think your myth is coming?" The Ithorian pointed at a group of massively muscled greenskins climbing past a barricade. The guards on the tower, having been occupied by a broadcast of the race turned at the sound of a deep and low chuckle.
"PEEKASTAB!" The leading monster said before ramming a massive blade straight through a Gammorean's head. The other three men guarding the post roared in surprise and fear bringing up their blasters before a sheer wall of sound ripped out as all of the other greenskins unloaded some sort of ballistic weapons in their direction. The accuracy was abysmal, the weight of fire meant it didn't matter even one bit. One of them spun and slapped a massive plate of metal against the tower and pulled a metal tab. Without further comment the group melted deep into Mos Espa.
"Uh... a trick of the light?" The Rodian said not truly believing it. And then the tower exploded.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sound of the Kommando's humming as they moved through the town was clearly audible to anyone who did their best not to notice the massively muscled greenskins, occasionally someone would make the mistake of looking at them and received a burst of gunfire in response. The cluster of Orks surged through the town, occasionally grabbing something they liked the looks of but seemingly drawn by an instinctive and even animalistic intelligence towards the hangar bays and landing fields. Resistance continued to be light, the Boonta Eve classic overriding all other concerns for most of the citizens of the town, and the Hutts being too occupied themselves for their Majordomos to risk annoying with bad news.
One after another, a dozen landspeeders were stolen and surged out of Mos Espa into the dune sea, controlled by inexperienced souls. But the Boss Nob continued his search for what he'd seen from his tellyskope. "In 'dere!" He said to his squad and they broke through a hangar bulkhead with a handful of krak grenades. A ship sat there on spiderlike legs. "I iz takin' dis wun wiv da boyz, sekkon skwad, go steel sum uvva ships, meet back at da Waaaghcrawla." He snarled and his own squad moved up the ram howling and hooting as they surged within. The ship was some kind of salvage ship, he knew that, enough mekboys made things like it. A small alien was running from him, too slowly, and he caught up in six big strides. "Iz yer lukky day." He snarled in mutilated basic picked up from captives they had taken over the four months they prowled the sands. "Yer gonna show me 'ow ta fly dis ship."
Da Dune See
Ships launched and the greenskins in the sand continued to lay low. Watching through almost comically oversized binoculars and telescopes. "Dere's a lot uv ships lawnching frum 'dere boss. Lotz uv traffik."
"Not dat many gitz though." The Nob observed. The city of Mos Espa lay before them and had actually paid some kind of attention to the threat of the boyz as he could see them building some sort of weapon towers. Couldn't have been more than ten, fifteen thousand. The Sandy Gitz considered this a major point of interest, and enemies.
"EY! LOOKSEE AT DAT!" The orks all turned to see a bunch of vehicles on a track, and the baying crowds in the auditorium. And then at a signal they shot off from the mark at massive velocities. "OH BOSS WE.."
A massive fist clubbed him around the back of the head, "Shaddup. Juzt wotch fer now. We iz gonna nick em lata." And so the Orks sat there and watched the Boonta Eve classic as they roared around the track, various vehicles being destroyed or otherwise disabled. Laser fire from one turn in the race indicated that the sand gitz were doing their own part to... the Nob suddenly stood. "WOT!? NO. WE IZ GONNA NICK STUFF NOW! ALL DEZE GITZ IS WOTCHING DA RACE!" And with that he surged to his feet and began to surge towards Mos Espa with the rest of the Kommandos following him closely.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"These 'ork' things are a myth, it was just an asteroid we missed, the Big Hutts are using the story to control where we move and to make us look selfish when we complain about their new weapon towers." The Rodian said to his Ithorian friend as they enjoyed some ale they had liberated from a storehouse with everyone distracted by the pod race. They were looking at one of the towers even now as it was being built. Apparently they would be topped with a laser cannon and a pair of repeating blaster cannons.
"Uh... Meeko, I think your myth is coming?" The Ithorian pointed at a group of massively muscled greenskins climbing past a barricade. The guards on the tower, having been occupied by a broadcast of the race turned at the sound of a deep and low chuckle.
"PEEKASTAB!" The leading monster said before ramming a massive blade straight through a Gammorean's head. The other three men guarding the post roared in surprise and fear bringing up their blasters before a sheer wall of sound ripped out as all of the other greenskins unloaded some sort of ballistic weapons in their direction. The accuracy was abysmal, the weight of fire meant it didn't matter even one bit. One of them spun and slapped a massive plate of metal against the tower and pulled a metal tab. Without further comment the group melted deep into Mos Espa.
"Uh... a trick of the light?" The Rodian said not truly believing it. And then the tower exploded.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sound of the Kommando's humming as they moved through the town was clearly audible to anyone who did their best not to notice the massively muscled greenskins, occasionally someone would make the mistake of looking at them and received a burst of gunfire in response. The cluster of Orks surged through the town, occasionally grabbing something they liked the looks of but seemingly drawn by an instinctive and even animalistic intelligence towards the hangar bays and landing fields. Resistance continued to be light, the Boonta Eve classic overriding all other concerns for most of the citizens of the town, and the Hutts being too occupied themselves for their Majordomos to risk annoying with bad news.
One after another, a dozen landspeeders were stolen and surged out of Mos Espa into the dune sea, controlled by inexperienced souls. But the Boss Nob continued his search for what he'd seen from his tellyskope. "In 'dere!" He said to his squad and they broke through a hangar bulkhead with a handful of krak grenades. A ship sat there on spiderlike legs. "I iz takin' dis wun wiv da boyz, sekkon skwad, go steel sum uvva ships, meet back at da Waaaghcrawla." He snarled and his own squad moved up the ram howling and hooting as they surged within. The ship was some kind of salvage ship, he knew that, enough mekboys made things like it. A small alien was running from him, too slowly, and he caught up in six big strides. "Iz yer lukky day." He snarled in mutilated basic picked up from captives they had taken over the four months they prowled the sands. "Yer gonna show me 'ow ta fly dis ship."
Orks leaving the planet spells bad news for everyone in the Star Wars galaxy.