Re: Cybork WIP
Steefan Horking's skull pounded. It had been a rough . . . well, not a rough night. This was no fungus wine hangover. A rough fortnight? Longer?
. . .
It ought to have been easy enough. Basskitt was the fourth planet from the sun in the Buh'red system. Buh'red Basskitt was a primitive agri-world full of stupid humies what didn't have too many big guns. Or too many guns at all, really. Not much to get excited about, but the meks assured that there were valuable metals beneath the surface, and a humie population that could be put to good use as slave labor.
The stunties had been an unexpected surprise.
The first that Steefan Horking knew of the stunties on Buh'red Baskitt was when they ambushed him and the lads returning from a raid. Turned out that the stunties had Horking and his mob in a pincer - the stunties had occupied some abandoned stone and wood buildings on either side of the road.
Early in the fight, Horking had taken a lasgun shot straight to his lower jaw which tore away in a spray of scorched muscle, bone, and teef. The shock knocked Horking to the ground and the smell of his own burning flesh had reminded him - in that moment - of barbecued hair squig.
A lesser ork might have been taken out of the fight. But not Steefan Horking. He was the toughest, cruelest, nob around and by Gork he wasn't going to lie down like some sniveling grot just because his jaw'd been shot off. Firing his pistol crazily, Horking surged upright.
It seemed like such a good idea, at the time, to run off the road and to make straight for the stunties where his power klaw could do some good.
Horking hadn't counted on the stunties' taktiks. Like cowardly Blood Axes, the stunties had seeded the side of the road with mines. The explosion blew Horking into the air, separating him from the shattered ruins of his legs.
As he spun crazily, Horking got a pretty decent look at the stunties' position as they shot the lads to pieces.
And then things went dark.
. . .
"Thassa genuine, certified, sta'blized gyroscopic monowheel!"
Horking cracked his eyes open to stare into the face of Bad Dok Sawteef. The pounding in his skull persisted.
"'Course," Bad Dok Sawteef continued, steepling his fingers, "yer didn't have enough teef left ta pay. But I'm nuffink if not a per-fesh-shional. So consider it pro bono publiko, righ'?" To accentuate the point, Bad Dok Sawteef picked up a surgical instrument and jabbed it emphatically at Horking's chin. It clanged.
, but the mechanical orks bits from Kromlech could be useful...
