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I entered this recently into a writing contest on 40K online. Results aren't in yet, but I'm optimistic.
With a thundrous roar, the massive engine of the wartrukk screamed across the battlefield, over six tons of ork in the back. The trukkboyz who had the honor of having the warboss ride with them had started out in the front of the assault, but over the course of an hour and a half of bloody battle, the charging line had dissolved. The Boss had picked a new target for them, a pack of eldar jetbikes that had been picking off stragglers for the entire battle. Bad Thrugg Verdonk, leader of one of the most vicious hordes of Speed Freeks in the universe, was pissed that something was out-maneuvering his boyz. He wanted them dead, and was going to deal with them personally. Unfortunately, they'd seen what he did to the War Walkers, and wanted nothing more than to stay out of reach.
"Fasta, ya wussy git! We'z red, but we'z movin' like we'z black! We ain't Goffs, so punch it! Punch it punch it punch it!!"
Showing more guts than a yoof should, the driver glanced in the boss' general direction. "Too heavy boss! We'z got more ork dan trukk 'ere!"
"Don't backtalk me! If you wazzn't drivin, I'd smak ya gud!" A pulse of light and a cacophany of sounds that would threaten to drive a human mad with their chaoticness signaled a squad of Warp Spider's exit from the Warp. "Boyz! Tellyporta Panzees! Yoo'z get dem, I'z got da flyin' gitz!"
The trukk barely slowing, the trukk boyz lept clear, eager for a chance to bring back some of the most prized trophies the Eldar had to offer. Relieved of 5 out of the 6 tons of greenskinned brute, the trukk's spike-studded treads spewed dirt clods until Thrugg threw his weight towards the back of the bed. The extra ton allowed the treads to bite deep into the soil, and the trukk rocketed forwards at breakneck speed.
Laughing monstrously, the Warboss watched as the gunner opened up on the rear-most jetbike. Tracer rounds ripped past the airborn warrior, and the target juked. A second volley hit the underside of the jetbike, and it lurched to the right, then plummeted to the ground. It struck a rocky outcropping, and the entire bike shattered into thousands of fragments of wraithbone. The gunner now joined in Thrugg's laughter as he put a new tic-mark into the side of the trukk with his knife.
"Uh, Boss, I tink deyz tryin ta lead us over dere, near dat big fing wit da sword."
"Wot, da wun wif da bluddy fist? I've fought dem. Dey'z almost proppa! Let'z get 'em, an' go afta da flyboyz later!"
Thrugg carefully climbed over the gunner and driver, and stood on the hood of the trukk, his weight bending the metal just a little. When he though he was close enough, he shouted to the driver, who slammed the brakes as hard as he could. The treads locked up, digging massive furrows into the ground. Thrugg leaped, roaring a battlecry and a challenge to the Avatar of the Bloody-Handed God. It's alien eyes turning to regard this foolhardy foe, it brought its dread sword around to meet the beast hurtling towards it.
Warboss Bad Thrugg Verdonk da Dread-Puncha did what all orks do best. He smashed into his chosen foe, choppa first, and knocked it flat on its Divine butt. Kneeling on it's chest, he smashed it in the face a few times before it threw him off. The massive, bloody sword swung around and connected with his left arm and bit deep. It would have removed the limb, if not for the still-fresh armor implants he had ordered the doks to graft under his flesh. Even so, it hurt the boss more than he had been since that lascannon got him square in the chest back on Mordakka.
Pissed now, he decided it had earned Da Dred Fist. Dodging a few swings and knocking another aside just in time, he clenched his hand inside its massive iron glove. With a krack! and an electric hum, the gauntlet surrounded itself with a red corona. Bellowing at the top of his lungs, he dropped his choppa, grabbed the Avatar by a ridge on its chest, and smashed The Fist home. With a titanic burst of etheric energy, his gauntlet drove deep into his foe's torso, the god-thing's animating force escaping in search of its shrine. Now fully in the grip of The Waaagh, the Warboss noted the shouts of the trukk crew just in time to turn and catch a volley of fire from the jetbikes right in the chest. Too far lost to his own rage, he barely noticed as his ribcage splinted, lacerating most of his organs. Not stopping for his choppa, he grabbed one of the bikes on the bottom of its attack dive. The sudden weight yanked the skimmer to a dead halt, throwing the luckless rider free. Releasing the craft to spiral away, Thrugg bounded to where the eldar lay dazed. The xeno looked up just in time to see Thrugg stomp on him. Vomiting blood as well as a good portion of his digestive tract into his helmet, the Eldar died painfully, his gurgling screams broadcast by the systems in his helm to his wingmates.
Circling back around in search of vengeance, the two remaining jetbikes lined up for another pass. A sudden hail of lead blasted one from the sky. The trukk gunner's triumphant shouts reminded boss and Eldar alike that the runsty heap was still there. Suddenly alone, the remaining Eldar hauled at the controls and swung his craft around, aiming for his own lines. Determined not to let any escape, Thrugg sprinted back to his ride, now coughing up bloody foam from a shredded lung. The driver gunned the engine, letting his boss just grab hold as the trukk went by.
Racing to stay ahead of the death-dealing monster behind him, the Eldar pilot displayed astounding skill as he juked and wove out of the way of the gunner's fire. The eldar lines were ahead, and the Warboss had calmed enough to know that he would want at least a few boyz with him before he attempted to storm their main force.
A black shadow few over the hunted and the hunters. Looking up, Thrugg saw an eldar tank. He wasn't sure which kind it was, since they all looked the same from below. It rolled over on its back in a display of aerial grace, and brought its turret in line with the wartrukk, a giant glowing crystal illuminating the shadowy cockpit.
Oh. It's da shooty kind. Then it fired.
The crystal pulsed, and blasted the trukk. The front half of the vehicle simply melted, the crew vaporizing in a burst of fire. The boss was thrown headlong. Instinct from his days as a humble trukkboy took over, and rolled as he hit the ground. Sitting up, he found himself within a short run's distance of the Eldar.
F**k. Dis ain't gonna be gud. The massive ork got to his feet, and roared his defiance in the face of the forces before him. The gravtank exploded over his head. Suprised, Thrugg thought for a moment that he had just blasted it with sheer orkiness. Then a second rokkit corckscrewed past and smashed into the Eldar troops, reducing one to a gorey smear. Turning, the Boss felt a surge of pride as he saw his boyz, coated in the blood of their enemies, came racing to fight alongside him. More than a few trukks were filled with the tattered remains of different squads, but the cries of WAAAAGH! were as loud as ever. Turning back towards the enemy, the giant ork held Da Dred Fist high, and charged.
God and the soldier, we adore
In times of War, and then no more.
For when the war is ended, and all things righted,
God is forgotten and the old soldier slighted.
[Avatar in Memory of Baker, happiest rat in the world. RIP.]
This was ecelent, I loved it.
(><) This is Dead Bunny.
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