The Orks of Tam'urt Chapta 9

Chapta Nine: Da Big Brawl</i>

Cezzy stood well back from the walls; she gripped her chest-saw in one hand, and a stikkbom in the other. She also had a bag of syringes slung over her shoulder. The Dok kept a close eye on the sky above; if the Goffs Stormboyz – battle crazy Orks who sped into battle with jetpacks strapped to their backs – dropped in, she wanted to be the first to know. They wouldn’t be hard to spot against the cloudless sky.

The squeal of the cyboars and the screams of many Orks carried back into the settlement. Weapons pinged and clanked and gunfire rattled the air – the Orks ordered to stay inside the settlement were getting wound up just hearing it.

Gretchin ran up to the top of the walls carrying bucket loads of stikkbomz with them. The Goffs weren’t the only ones who liked to throw exploding things.

Time went by, minute by minute; the sounds of the battle drew closer – Cezzy could swear she heard Jamz hollering above the racket. But it was too hard to tell one Ork voice from the next.

Bright flashes indicated Ongrat was doing his job. Cezzy just hoped the Goffs didn’t have a psyker, or things might get very messy indeed. Although she would have liked to have seen a showdown between two enemy Weirdboys.

“Cezzy!” Brudz’ voice called from behind. “Ow’s da fight goin’?”

“How should I know, I haven’t got x-ray vision.” Her sister replied as fondly as ever. “But I can tell yer dem Goffs is gonna be ‘ere any minute now.”

Brudz stood next to her sister, hefting a giant spanner that was nearly as tall as herself; her shoota was stuffed in her pocket. She didn’t appear very happy however.

“Stop bein’ grumpy,” Cezzy spoke trying to get her sister to snap her out of her bad mood. “Yew should be ‘appy, yer about ter get stuck inta yer first real fight – dere ain’t been nuffin dis big at da squig farm, heh heh heh!”

“I’m jus’ cranky coz I can’t ride me bike to da fight… I didn’t get a chance ter fix it.” Brudz replied, glaring at the ground as though it was her enemy. “I wanted ter mow dem Goffs down wiv me lovely red bike.”

“Where’s Orlen, anyway? Aint ‘Ee supposed ta be ‘ere?” Cezzy asked changing the subject.

“Ee said ‘ee woz gonna go find ‘iz boyz, or somefin.” Brudz shrugged.
A shrill shriek of euphoria grabbed the girls attention; they looked up, and saw several black dots in the sky. The dots quickly grew large as the first of the Stormboyz flew down into the settlement, screaming with joy.

Cezzy leant back, ready to throw her chest saw. “Let’s get stabbin’!” She heaved the saw like a boomerang; it whizzed through the air and sliced open a Goff before it curved around and came flying back.

Brudz leaped out of the road; the saw sank into the ground where she stood moments before, nearly cutting her leg off. “Damn, I wanted da first blood!” She complained.

A pack of Stormboyz landed nearby. “Don’t worry, dere’s plenty more ov us, hur! Hur! Hur!”

A moment later, a pack of Snakebites boys charged the Goffs and a bloody fray began. Brudz ran forward with her spanner, and swung it at the first Stormboy she came across; it slammed into the Ork’s shoulder, and bounced into the side of his face.

He swung around to face his attacker; blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth and he held a large blade in one hand. “I’ll slice yer open like a squig to da slaughter!” He threatened then lunged at Brudz; she tried to dodge the Stromboy’s choppa but the Ork sliced her arm.

Brudz smacked the Ork in the chin with the end of her spanner; it dazed him for a second, but he was quick to recover. He swung his free hand and hooked the Mek in the side of the jaw with a powerful punch. A tooth flew from Brudz’ mouth and she stumbled back.

“Dat makes us even,” Brudz spat a blob of blood and saliva onto the ground. “But yew aint gonna get rich off me.” She swiped her tooth off the dirt and pocketed it defiantly.

The Stormboy seemed to find this amusing. “Hur hur, it’s gonna be fun ter kill yew.”

Another mob of Stormboyz flew into the settlement and Brudz and Cezzy suddenly found them selves outnumbered. Even with the Snakebite boys it was going to be a struggle just to stay alive.

Cezzy came up behind Brudz and swung her chest saw, slicing open the mouthy Stormboy’s neck. Brudz dived onto the Goff and finished him off with a crushing blow from her spanner. The girls howled out loud; they revelled in the death of the enemy, and got hacking with renewed energy.


At the front lines Uurgrin took a swing at a Goff Nob with his axe, as he sped past on the wartrakk; he took the Ork’s head off and sent it flying like a golf ball. “Diiieeee!” The Waaghboss shouted.

Oric was down to one turret; he had used all the bullets up on the other one, leaving many a Goff with craters in their flesh or missing limbs. He swung the wartrakk around, ploughing through any Orks which stood in his way. He looped back towards the settlement; the Goffs were getting closer. Uurgrin was aware the Goff Stormboyz were already within the walls, but if any more Orks got past the Snakebites would have double back to defend the settlement. For now, the Orks inside the walls would have to fend off the Stormboyz.

Jamz stamped slowly but steadily through the crowd of Goffs, ripping limbs off and stomping on heads. The mega-armoured Nob was enjoying himself thoroughly. One exceptionally large Goff Nob with a brutish grin faced Jamz. Jamz sized the Goff up; he was well armed, and bore very thick armour. It wasn’t mega armour, but it allowed the Ork to move more freely.

The pair charged each other; Jamz reached out with his mega-claw and the Goff swung a huge chainsaw. Sparks sprayed from the clash; Jamz grabbed the chainsaw blade with his mega claw; with his free hand, Jamz raised his shoota to use it as a club. From behind another two Goffs grabbed Jamz and pulled him off balance, before he could club the Goff Nob.

As the giant Ork toppled over sideways, the chainsaw blade snapped in his mega claw. The Goff Nob got lashed across his face by the stray chain, leaving a nasty gash and rending his right eye useless. The Goff let out a guttural howl and threw the remains of his now useless chainsaw at Jamz, cracking him on his exposed head.

Jamz felt the Goffs ripping and tearing at his armour. It took him a few seconds to recover from the blow to the head and realise that he was being swarmed by Goffs. He lashed out with his leg kicking a Goff boy in the gut, sending the Ork squealing into the hordes; with his mega-claw, he cut yet another Goff in two. Jamz flayed his arms and legs at all the Orks in reach, but for every one that was slain or pommeled another two would appear. It was hard enough for an Ork in bulky mega-armour to get back up onto his feet without being surrounded by Orks that wanted to throttle you.

The Goff Nob licked blood from his lips; he would have preferred it to have been someone else’s blood, but not every Ork can have everything his own way. Angry for losing his eye the Goff stomped over to where Jamz was buried below a wriggling mass of Goff boys. As a metal-engulfed foot heaved through the Orks like a hammer, the nob grabbed it, and began to pull Jamz across the dirt.

“I’ll rip yer ‘eart clean from yer chest!” The Nob bellowed. “An’ when I’m finished, dat armour’ll be MINE!”

“I’ll tear da tendons from yer brain ‘fore dat ‘appens!” Jamz replied with a snarl. His anatomical knowledge of the Ork physique left a lot to be desired. He grabbed a Goff and used him like a cricket bat, swatting the other Goff boys that were trying to rip into him, hollering his favourite war cry at the same time. “WAAAAAAAAGH!”

“Gimme dat!” The Goff Nob let go of Jamz’ leg and snatched a large knife off a passing Ork. He Jumped onto Jamz Stomach, and began to push his way through the other Goffs to get to Jamz’ exposed head.

“Gang way! Da bestest Nob ‘n’ leader ov da Snakebites tribe commin’ frew!”
Jamz was lucky to have been a mega-armoured Nob that day; his three-inch thick armour saved him from being made into pie filling as the wartrakk ran into him. The Goffs who had been surrounding Jamz had not been as lucky.

The Wartrakk bucked and somersaulted side ways as it ploughed full-speed into Jamz and the Goffs. Many an Ork was squashed as the wartrakk skidded to a halt; Oric and Uurgrin had miraculously managed to only receive a few bruises as they were thrown off the vehicle when it impacted Jamz.

As the dust settled bewildered Goff survivors staggered around. One by one, they began to be beat to the ground in a bloody pulp by the thick end of Oric’s squiggoth-tusk club.

“Hur! Hur! Hur! Dis iz fun! Reminds me ov da time when we paid ol’ Grum a visit, eh Jamz?”

The mega-armoured Nob lay still for a few moments before sitting up with a confused look on his face. The Ork rubbed the side of his armour where the wartrakk’s plough had struck, denting the plates. His confusion was quick to change to resentment. “I wanted ter kill dem Goffs!” He yelled. Despite his enthusiasm, the Nob looked worse for wear; he was bleeding from the joints of his armour, and many a lump had formed on his battered head.

“Jus’ find some more,” Oric said and walked over to help push Jamz back up onto his feet.

Uurgrin appeared from the cloud dust, brushing his furs down, grinning with only half his usual amount of teeth remaining. “Any chance we c’n do dat again?”


Stormboyz rained from the sky like meteors into the settlement. Cezzy and Brudz were being pushed back towards the front of the settlement where the snake pits had been dug out. The girls fought back-to-back, Cezzy slicing any Goff that tried to get too close and injecting others with a poisonous concoction which gave many of them horrible seizures. Brudz swung her giant spanner with the vigour of Don Bradman when he scored his first ever century in a test match (she swung it very, very, hard for anyone who doesn’t know who Don Bradman is) caving in skulls and cracking ribs.

Their luck was in short supply though and their defence was overcome when a particularly manic Stormboy rocketed into them, sending them flying like ten-pins in bowling alley.

Brudz bounced off the ground and skidded to a halt on a wooden board which wobbled treacherously beneath her. She had landed on top of a hidden snake pit; Brudz could just hear the hiss of angry vipers above the racket of the battle.

She stood up slowly, trying not to disturb the thin wooden board which separated her from the cold-blooded critters below.

“I gotcha now!” A stormboy bellowed, running at Brudz grinning from ear to tatty ear. He had landed with all his weight onto the edge of the board before Brudz could move.

The Mek screeched curses as the board shifted beneath her feet, and up-ended as it split down the middle. She scrabbled for any hand-hold she could lay her claws on but she found none. Instead, she was fortunate enough to land on top of the startled Stormboy.

“Cezzy! Get me outta ‘ere!” Brudz screamed, trying to hold onto the now-panicking Goff. “Shut yer whinnin’,” she said stamping on his head, “It’s yaw fault we’re in dis mess!”

Snakes slithered about the Stormboy, biting his arms and legs mercilessly. He frothed at the mouth in a fit of rage (or possibly from necrosis of the brain) trying to stomp and stab and squish as many snakes as he could; the Ork standing on his shoulder was not at the top of his priority list of things to kill at that particular point in time.

“Oi! Oi! Cezzy!” Brudz yelled urgently. She leant against one wall to try and keep her balance; the Goff was jerking violently under her feet – it was like trying to ride a bucking bull.

After what felt like a millennium to the distressed Mek, Cezzy’s face appeared over the top of the hole. “Yew look funny!” She said, laughing at her sister in the snake pit.

“Stop bein’ entertained, ‘n’ get me outta ‘ere!” Brudz held out her hand eager to be pulled out.

The snake pit had been dug surprisingly deep; the Snakebites had put a lot of effort – perhaps too much effort – into the traps. Cezzy had to get down onto her belly to grab her sister’s arm.

She heaved and pulled her Brudz up towards the entrance. “Yew owe me ten teef fer dis,” Cezzy announced, never missing an opportunity to extort anyone of anything.

“Yew can’t leave me ‘ere!” The Stormboy wailed, grabbed Brudz’ leg and yanked hard, trying to pull himself out.

Cezzy slid head first towards the pit; she tried to stop herself from going over the edge with her spare hand, but the Stormboy was stronger.

“Fifty teef! FIFTY TEEF!” Brudz screamed at her sister, crushing Cezzy’s hand in a vice grip in case the Dok considered letting go. “I’ll give yer FIFTY teef if yer get me outta dis!”

The Dok gritted her teeth, snorting with the exertion of trying to pull two Orks up. “I’m tryin’! I’m tryin’!” But she was still slowly slipping over the edge. A large foot trod on her leg, pinning her where she was. “Ow! Damn Goffs, zog off!”

“I aint no Goff, get yer eyes checked!” Orlen smirked. He bent over and snagged Cezzy by the collar with a large metal claw. He lifted his foot and pulled her back, dragging Brudz out as well. “An’ I’ll take dat fifty teef.”

“Get dis git off me!” Brudz said, flailing her limbs. The Stormboy was clinging to Brudz’ legs like a limpet. He was bleeding from the masses of snake bites he had suffered, and his face was stuck in a permanent snarl with his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Orlen thrust his free arm forward. The Stormboy’s head exploded as a large drill rammed its way through the Ork’s cranium. “Dat’s an extra five teef.” The Mek stood up looking at his new hand attachments with much admiration. “Dis drill thing’s been makin’ mince of dem Goffs, an’ da claw fingy ‘as ripped a good face or two off. Hur, hur, hur.”

The drill on one stump rotated slowly as the Mek inspected it. On his other stump was a claw-like attachment, hooked at the tips. The attachment had been strapped on tightly, there had been no time to screw them to Orlen’s arm bones.

“An’ where da ‘ell’ve yew been?” She asked as she stood up, flexing her crushed hand. “’Avin’ a tea party wiv da squigs or somefin’?”

“Oo, me?” Orlen casually drilled the stomach of a Goff who tried to ram him, and threw the Ork’s body aside. “Nah, jus’ testin’ out me new ‘ands! Got attacked by a bunch ov Goffs back dere.” He said, pointing over his shoulder with his claws.

“I want me bike so I c’n krump dem bastard Goffs…” Wheezed Brudz; she was lying on the ground on her stomach, happy to see soil beneath her and not snakes. “An’ next time I gets inter a fight, I’ll ‘ave me kustom shoota ready… pity it got broke in da accident.”

“Git up, or yew’ll be stomped ter deff,” Cezzy said giving her sister a rough nudge with her foot. “Goffs iz commin’.”

Brudz pulled herself to her feet, and fetched her spanner which was lying on the ground a few meters away.

“Let’s go see what’s ‘appenin’ over da walls,” Orlen suggested. “I wanna see ‘ow da fight’s goin’. We c’n climb up an’ take a look.” He nudged his head towards the right corner of the front wall; there was a ramp which led to the rampart, where many Gretchin tossed their stikkbomz from down into the carnage below.

“Alright, let’s go.” Cezzy agreed, reloading her syringes from a bottle filled with poison.

Orlen led the way, stabbing and drilling his way through the crowd of Goffs which was filling up the encampment. Brudz and Cezzy were close behind fending off any Orks Orlen hadn’t quite killed. The three Orks dared not stay still in the one spot; they were at risk of being surrounded – Stormboyz were everywhere.

“I got dis feeling I don’t wanna see what’s over da walls,” Brudz mumbled as they approached the start of the ramp.

“Shut yer yap ‘ole,” Cezzy snapped. “Dis aint da time ter be complainin’ about stuff.”

Surprisingly there were very few Goffs on the ramp and along the walls. The Goffs that were on there were quickly dispatched of as the three defending Orks charged up the ramp, shoving them over the edge or chopping into them.

As they reached the rampart the Orks turned their heads to the battle below. Brudz vomited over the edge at the sight – not from the gore, but from obvious dire situation which beheld them.

“Gee, uh, yer boss an’ dat weirdo sure know how ter underestimate da enemy, don’t dey?” Brudz said wiping her mouth of bile. “So much fer two-ter-one, dis is more like ten ter one!”

Orlen stared down at the mass of black and green Goffs; it was hard to spot a Snakebite warrior. They were completely overrun by the enemy. “Don’t be a coward,” he said, not sounding wholly bold himself. “It’s more like eight ter one. Not so bad.”

Cezzy rolled her eyes sarcastically. She had witnessed her share of battles and knew they had very small odds of winning this one. “If somefin’ don’t ‘appen fast, we’re dead. All ov us. Dere’s just too many ov ‘em, Orlen.”

A stikkbom flew past their heads from down below; it landed in the settlement and exploded. Brudz quickly crouched below the wall. “Duck down, so dey can’t see us.”
Cezzy and Orlen didn’t object; the Snakebite had to just about lay on his stomach to get below the perimeter of the walls.

“What kills lots of Orks, real fast?” Cezzy though aloud.

The Orks contemplated it for a few minutes. Orlen eventually had a brain wave. “Explosions,” he said.

“Yeah,” Brudz nodded thoughtfully. “An explosion! Kinda like a stikkbom does, ‘cept even bigga!”

“But how do we kill da Goffs, wivout killin’ da Snakebites, too?” Cezzy queried.

“Dat’s easy,” Brudz grinned. “Orlen, how much do yer like yer home?”

The Snakebite Mek looked suspiciously at his smaller counterpart. “Why?”

“Well… coz… by sacraficin’ yer ugly – I mean wundaful – settlement, we cud get all da Goffs in da one place. Den, BOOM! An’ da Snakebites an’ my bruva ‘n’ Oric can be safely not-in-da-settlement when it goes up inta flames, yeh. It’ll be so easy, coz da Goffs iz already tryin’ ta get in ‘ere anyway.”

“We’re tryin’ ter save dis place, not DESTROY it!” Orlen yelled; he was very opposed to the idea of the settlement being blown to oblivion.

As if she didn’t hear Orlen at all, Cezzy scratched her chin and narrowed her eyes as she imagined the giant explosion. “Yeah, dat would work… da Snakebites c’n retreat to da camp, run right frew it, and out de uvah side. We close da doors, and da Goffs’ll be stuck in ‘ere coz they’d be too busy rippin’ apart da buildin’s. Den, we explode da place ter da warp ‘n’ back!”

“That’s outrageous!” Orlen protested, standing up. He was getting very upset once again - Orlen wasn’t very good at controlling his emotions. “I won’t let yer blow dis place up! We Snakebites c’n ‘andle da fight; we’ll jus’ stab ‘em all ter deff. We don’t need yer ‘elp, yer dumb clan ain’t know da meaning of tough. Yew may fink dis battle is lost, but den again yew is just a pair ov Evil Sunz ‘oo ‘as a fetish fer red fings, an’ spend all yer time racin’ across da desert on really fast wheelz dat yer put lotsa dakka on, an’ spend all night fixin’ an’ paintin’ an’ upgradin’!”

Cezzy and Brudz looked at each other. “I fink ‘ee got a bit sidetracked,” Cezzy said to her sister.

“Yeah, just a bit.” Brudz agreed. “I fink ‘ee’s jealous of me splendid bike, heh heh.”

The young Mek looked up at Orlen; he looked as if he was about to cry. She changed to her serious/angry tone. “Yer big baby!” Brudz shouted at him. “Yer da biggest Mek I’ve ever seen,” – she failed to mention that Orlen was the only other Mek she’d ever seen – “An’ I, for a wee moment, looked up ter yer! Sure, yew ‘ad no ‘ands, but yer Boss sure seemed to have a high regard for yer. Now yer standin’ dere, ‘bout ter cry –wot kinda Ork cries for Mork’s sake? We found a solution to a problem dat’s about to kick yer clan’s arse back ter creation, an’ yew chuck a zoggin’ wobbly about it. What’s worse, Orlen, ‘avin’ yer settlement destroyed, or ‘avin’ da Goffs take it over, an’ merge what’s left ov yer friends into da Goff war band? Dunno ‘bout yew, but I wouldn’t let dem do dat ter my clan or war band. I’d do anyfin’ ter prevent sucha fing ‘appanin’.”

The Dok crawled over to her sister and tugged her back from Orlen a few paces. “Idiot, dat Nob’s bigger dan yew by a mile!” she hissed. Looking up to the Snakebite she spoke, “I c’n kill ‘er if yer like, Orlen – it might make yer feel betta.” She had a poisonous syringe in her hand, ready to jab Brudz on Orlen’s command.

“Don’t do dat…” Orlen gazed out across the battlefield. “… we need ter make a really big bomb.”


Uurgrin’s hut was in the centre of the settlement, the perfect place for hiding a dangerous mix of combustible things. It was also vacant of any Goffs – they were too busy fighting Snakebites outside to bother anyone inside it. Orlen had ordered his cronies to keep all Goffs away from the centre of the camp while they built the bomb. He had also ordered several Gretchin to lend a hand fetching materials; two of the Gretchin had been assigned the task of seeking out Uurgrin to inform him of the plan to detonate the encampment. Orlen told them to leave out the details of where the bomb was being set up…

The first thing put inside Uurgrin’s hut was all the stikkbomz the Gretchin could find. Brudz and Cezzy smuggled cans of nails, screws and rivets out of the half-destroyed Mek shop. Orlen rolled several barrels of fuel into the hut, and the pub was raided for any and all other flammable liquids (mainly fungus beer). What little gun powder was available was placed at the centre of the pyramid, surrounded by the alcohol and fuel.

Orlen stood back to admire the potentially destructive pile of junk. He was smiling, until something crossed his mind. “Uh… how are we gonna set it off?”

Cezzy threw a can of engine oil onto the pile. “What? Oh, I never fought ov dat.”

“Let’s just get dat weirdo Ongrat ta light it up. Heh, heh, heh! It won’t matter if ‘ee dies.” Brudz smirked; she thought her joke was very funny even if nobody else did.

“Great finkin’!” Orlen said slapping Brudz on the back so heartily she was thrown to the floor winded. “We’ll use Ongrat!”

Cezzy was about to scold Orlen for being sarcastic at such a crucial time when she realised what he must have been thinking. “Yeah, he can blast da hut from a distance wiv ‘is psychic powers. I just ‘ope ‘ee ain’t dead yet.”

“Oi,” Orlen addressed a Gretchin that was about to run out to get more flammables for the pile, “Go find Uurgrin, an’ tell ‘im we need Ongrat ta set da bomb alight. Don’t die – make sure ‘ee gets da message! An’ if dat fails – meaning if Uurgrin is dead or incapable of contacting Ongrat - find Ongrat an’ tell ‘im ter meet me ‘ere.”

“Oh! An’ give da boys some o’ dis. Jus’ inject it – give it to da biggest boys, I ain’t got much!” Cezzy chucked the Gretchin a bag full of syringes. “Dat’s a new mix ov fightin’ jooce I made. Should ‘elp ‘em smash some ‘eads in.”

“Yeah, whatever.” The small Gretchin grabbed the bag and ran out of the hut with his large out-of-proportion feet slapping on the ground as he ran.