“Where woz I...ah yes. Our mishun boyz, is tah intilfr....inlilfa....sneak inta wun of dose funny squishy buildin’s da bugz like to make. Da ‘oomiez say the bugz are keeping wun uv dare bosses dare...”
He stopped, noticing Slinkk had raised his hand.
“Wot?”
“Why don’t da ‘ oomiez get ‘im back demselves?”
“’Cos dayze too soft! Dayze scared uv a coupl’a roaches! Not like mah boyz, roight?”
A chorus of defiance answered his query.
“Well den, day’ve given us this likkul box, wot dey say well ‘elp us find ‘im”

Sarge drew from one of his multiple pouches a hand-held device of Imperial origin, and casually tossed the item for Spekkit to catch. Spekkit, being the best reader of the unit, quickly powered the device up, causing a slow rhythm of beeps to escape from the robust casing.
The other orks recoiled, anxiously staring at the object.
“Iz it gonna ‘splode?”, breathed Sarge, concern in his voice.
“Nah, itz a trakkin’ device”, answered Spekkit, turning the screen to face Sarge. “Dis likkul arrow points tah where dis oomie iz, and it’ll beep fasta when we get closer”
Sarge breathed a sigh of relief before raising his voice again to address the squad.
“Right ladz, sharpen dem choppaz, load dem sluggas an’ get dem masks on, we’ze about tah do wot we do best!”
A rousing warcry resounded from the warkopta as it shifted course towards its new destination.

It was some hours later. The warkopta had long since unloaded its green, burly cargo, Sarge seeing it best to proceed on foot amidst the ruins of the once proud Imperial city.
Night had started to fall, and the group had paused to rest under cover of the chitinous mass of a capillary tower. Inevitably, an argument had broken out.

“Wot do you mean it won’t work?”
“Exactly wot I sez Sarge” replied Spekkit, “I won’t be able tah call in ecktrakshun”
Sure enough, the skwakbox refused to make contact with the warkopta, despite Spekkit’s twiddling of every dial in sight. A harsh static was all that could be heard from the device, and the noise was really starting to get on Sarge’s nerves.
Meanwhile, Bakkstab and ‘Eadtayka had other interests.

“Wot do yoo reckon it iz?” voiced Bakkstab.
“Zog knows”, replied ‘Eadtayka, “It’s like a buildin’, but alive”
The pair were looking up at the capillary tower, framed as it was by the light of the planet’s twin moons.
“Duz dat meen yoo can kill it?”
“Wot’s da point, it’s not gotta skull”
“Yoo don’t know dat yet”, said Bakkstab, sticking his choppa between two sections of chitin and attempting to wedge them apart. The two surfaces didn’t move an inch.
“I’ve gotta better idea”, said ‘Eadtayka, rifling through his backpack.

“I’ve checked everythin’ Sarge, got no idea wot da problem iz”
“Alright, jus’ turn the fraggin’ thing off. Once we’ve got dis oomie we’ll ‘ave tah slog it back to da choppa”
“Yoo sure dat’ll be alright Sarge?”
“’Course”, said Sarge, “So long as we’ze sneaky enuff, we won’t need tah get away quick”
And that was when a deafening explosion split the night, causing a section of the capillary tower to collapse and fall to the ground with a noise like an avalanche.
Sarge whipped round to see Bakkstab and ‘Eadtayka running as fast as they could from the chaos.
“Wot da zog wuz dat?”
“Don’t ask us Sarge, we wos jus’ sittin’ mindin’ our own business when suddenly dis explosion ‘appened”
Sarge narrowed his eyes, but further questioning was cut short by shrill alien cries echoing out from the darkness.
“Git ready boyz!” roared Sarge, “We’ze making contakt sooner den ekspekted”
The kommandos rushed to form a semi-circle against the base of the tower, high pitched whines could be heard as multiple night vision sets were activated.
Sarge ground his cigar out under his boot and flexed his bionic arm in anticipation. Things were about to get interesting.

Sarge had seen a lot of fighting, but even he was surprised at the speed of the enemy. In great bounding leaps the creatures descended upon the kommandos with a precision that contrasted their bestial appearance. Suppressors and silencers did little to mask the noise and muzzle flare of the ork’s crude firearms, and their low rate of fire proved ineffective against the hormogaunt’s flitting movements between outcrops of rubble and twisted plasteel.
Just before the wave crashed home, Torcha let loose with his burna, the roaring gout of flame lighting up the night and incinerating a great swathe of the creatures.
The remaining few hormagaunts swept into the line, and a swirling melee broke out in the shadow of the tower.

In seconds Slinkk was down, collapsed wheezing after a razor sharp talon slipped under his guard and into his chest. Before the alien could finish the job Bakkstab pierced the back of its neck with a well-aimed strike from his lovingly sharperned choppa.
‘Eadtayka had grabbed one of the gaunts by the throat as it attempted to rip out his own, the two had become entangled upon the dirt in a rapidly expanding pool of thick, black ork blood.
With the screech of poorly oiled hydraulics, Sarge laid waste to the surrounding gaunts with great swings of his bionic arm, lifting one of his attackers by the head and crushing it’s skull as it tore chunks out of his torso. Sarge looked around, taking in the scene of Torcha planting his foot on a downed hormagaunt’s ribcage before searing the flesh from its snarling face with the cutting flame of his burna.
The stench of burnt promethium filled his nostrils as Sarge squinted through the smoke produced by the stinking remains of the gaunts Torcha had set alight. More were coming. Amongst them strode the hulking mass of a tyranid warrior.

“It’s not over yet boyz, on yer feet!” bellowed Sarge, snapping shots of with his slugga as he moved to meet this new threat.
Suddenly a projectile whistled past Sarge’s head, smoke billowing behind it as it arced towards the next wave of tyranids. The ensuing explosion removed fully half of the warrior’s upper torso, the carcass collapsing under its own weight. The gaunts fell back in disarray, seemingly startled by the noise of the ork’s weapons, a stark contrast to their previous behaviour.
Sarge glanced back to see Boomboy already reloading his bomm chukka.
“Nice shot!” congratulated Sarge, to which Boomboy merely shrugged.

Sarge trudged back to his boyz. ‘Eadtayka had succeeded in wrestling off his assailant, and was busy hacking off the head. Meanwhile Slinkk had his gasmask off and was hunched over coughing blood into the dirt, but it was clear the wound to his chest was already healing. Already Sarge could feel a thick layer of scar tissue forming over his previous wounds.
The only real damage seemed to lie with Spekkit, who was sitting on a pile of brickwork trying to prise his slugga from his disembodied left arm.
“Yoo stupid zogger” chuckled Bakkstab, “Watch out fer da pointy bitz next time yer?”
Slinkk tried to laugh, and almost coughed up a lung.
Spekkit paused to raise his middle digit at Bakkstab, before attempting to knock his slugga loose by repeatedly bashing his dead arm against a partially collapsed wall.
“Jokes over boyz. Da bugz know we’re ‘ere now, an’ it won’t be long till more show up”
“Wot now Sarge?” asked Bakkstab
“Move out” ordered Sarge, “Dose Bugz won’t know wot ‘it ‘em”.

I demand continuation!

Aww, poor Spekkit. :(

So, are these Ork mercanaries? I like the sound of that.

Also, I don't think Spekkit's gonna make it all the way through the story. That makes me sad...

No more story? :(

Will carry on, sorry, just enjoying a spot of breakfast.

>>13815305
>>13815261

Don't worry, he's the son of Killboy.

I want to know more about Torcha, what are his wants, his desires, what secret dreams does he harbor behind that gas mask.

>>13815398
I love your subject, Kommandos is one of my favourite things in the entire 40k universe.

>>13815459
Torcha's mind is this
Wants: burning stuff
Desires: burning lots of stuff
secret dreams he hold behind the mask: being a famed romantic holovid actor

Day was beginning to break as the orks crested a giant pile of rubbile. Before them yawned an enormous crater, and the rising sun was just beginning to illuminate what lay inside.
The air had become so thick with spores that even Sarge and Spekkit had donned their masks, and the sound of laboured breathing accompanied the kommandos as they picked their way through the ruins, which were becoming increasingly littered with tyranid structures.
Sarge was lying on his front, holding a battered pair of magnoculars to the lenses of his gasmask.

“Wot iz itboss?” asked ‘Eadtayka in a hoarse whisper
“I fink dat’s where dayze keepin’ ‘im” answered Sarge, pointing into the crater and passing ‘Eadtayka the magnoculars.
The autofocus clicked and whirred as the device struggled to pick out the shadowy details which lay within the crater. Inside, ‘Eadtayka saw a mass of ribbed sinew, covered in barbarous spines and ridges.
“Wots da trakka say Spekkit?”
Spekkit was a much healthier green now. The tracking unit had been in his right hand for the majority of the journey, whereas the stump of his left was wrapped in a thick bandage.
“I fink yooz right Sarge” he said, “Da trakka sez ‘eez only ‘bout too hundred meetahs away”
“Ok boyz...let’z make dis a good ‘un. An’ Spekkit?”
“Yer?”
“Wot’s a meetah?”

>>13815565
Rubbile. That's right.
Also, Sarge let 'Eadtayka call him Boss.
Whoops.

>>13815459
Who's Killboy?
>>13815405
Mpmph mmph mph mph mmmph

>>13815621

Working more silently now, the boyz worked their way down the steep decline of the crater. Although the remainder of the night had passed without incident, Sarge knew they were being followed. Shrill, communicative cries had been heard close by, and although the predators had yet to reveal themselves, Sarge knew the next scrap wouldn’t be so favourable.
Closing the distance, the kommandos pressed against the side s of the hive.

“Kor, it looks a lot bigga close up” breathed ‘Eadtayke, before receiving a clip round the ear.
“’Ush yer noise” whispered Sarge, “An’ start tah work yer wayz round. Dare’z got tah be a way in somewheres”
Sure enough, navigating the perimeter of the hive revealed a ribbed archway. The smell was intense, even through the gasmasks, and a distant rumbling could be heard from within.
The kommandos fanned out along the darkened passage way, the pilot light of Torcha’s burna being the only light until night vision was remembered.

The appearance of the interior could be compared to what one would see by walking within the ribcage of an enormous beast. A central column ran centrally along the ceiling like a spine, and pools of ichor had formed from patches where it dripped from the ceiling.
The beeping of the tracking unit filled the corridor, the cycle of pulses becoming faster and faster with every footstep along the way.

>>13815749
So many mistakes. It seems like last night's painkillers are taking effect. Sorry folks.

It seemed like ages before they found him. Following the directions of the tracker had lead the orks through what was more or less a labyrinth of tunnels, fraught with countless dead ends or cases where the corridor became too narrow and too low for the orks to precede.
Sarge was beginning to get frustrated, and wondering how they were going to find their way out, when the passageway they were currently traversing opened out into a huge dome.
The rumbling had long ago become the sound of heavy breathing, punctuated by the thudding of a slow heartbeat, and this noise filled the ears of the kommandos as they advanced.

Daylight shone from a large opening in the ceiling, clouded by fumes which escaped from a series of vents protruding from a pulsating mass on one side of the dome.
Here the outline of the human could be seen, anchored to the mass by lashings of sinew which obscured his body. Only his face was visible, his eyes closed and skin a deathly pale.
Spekkit powered off the now obsolete tracker, and the group assembled below the overhanging mass, puzzled expressions on their faces.
“Iz ‘e dedd?” said Sarge, voicing the thoughts of all seven.
“Only wun way tah find out” said Bakkstab, stepping forward and broadly slapping the human in the face.
“Wake up ya pasty runt!”
The human’s head lolled, but his eyes ventured open.
“K...k...ill....m....me” he croaked.
Spekkit, being the only one of the group who knew High Gothic, shoved Bakkstab out the way.
“Sorry mate, we’ze gotta bring yoo back alive. Now, your name iz...Kernal Grugnov, right?”
The human stared wide eyed into the gasmask that filled his vision. A thin line of drool escaped from his mouth as he answered.
“What does that matter now?”
“I’m gonna take dat as a yes” said Spekkit before turning to the others.

>Torch
>'Eadtayka
>Slinkk
>Bakkstab
>Boomboy

Needs a Mad Dok and a Heavy and it can be ORK FORTRESS.

>>13816169

“Dat’s da wun Sarge”
“Right, ‘ow do we get ‘im off dat fing?”
Before Spekkit could answer he was interrupted by Grugnov.
“What regiment are you brave souls from?”
“Wos ‘e say?” demanded Sarge
“I fink ‘e finks we’ze oomiez Sarge, mus’ be da masks”
Sarge was visibly hurt by this insult, and folded his arms as Spekkit turned back to the human.
“Er...dat’s klassifed informashun he answered, to which the human seemed appeased.

It was some time later. Torcha was cutting away at the bonds securing Grugnov to the hive, which had proven impervious to even the most well -placed of choppa blows.
Grugnov was still under the impression his rescuers were human, and had been absent -mindedly mumbling to Torcha the entire time.
“...Never thought anyone would come for me...you gentlemen will be receiving medals when this is all over...you mark my words”
“Mpmph mmph mph mph mmmph” replied Torcha.

Meanwhile, Spekkit was again trying to get the skwakbox operational. His only reward was the same static as last time, though even louder than before.
He had just started to ponder whether this had anything to do with being deeper in tyranid territory when the human began to scream.

The weakened bonds had been prised away, revealing the fact that the human’s legs were missing. Fresh vomit coated the remains of his once fine officer’s uniform as he continued to scream and clutch at the back of his head.
A thick chord was affixed to his cranium, and seemed to be more or less attached to his scalp. The kommandos hadn’t noticed it before, but currently it was all that supported Grugnov as he writhed in the air.

“Sumwun shut ‘im da frag up!” yelled Sarge before drawing closer to Grugnov and shaking him where he hung.
“’Ere, stop dat rakkit!”
Before Sarge could continue, a deep growl rose in volume sounded from the mass Grugnov was attached to. Sarge looked up into the maw of the looming monstrosity as its single eye bore into him.
“Wot da zog?” he murmured as a wave of nausea rippled through him. Grugnov vomited again before Bakkstab severed the chord, allowing him to fall to the floor where he lay, seemingly unconscious.
“Gud thinkin’ Bakkstab!”
“Look out Sarge!” cried Slinkk, pointing behind him.
Sarge’s first instinct was to duck, and as he did so he glimpsed a razor sharp talon whip through the air where he’d just been. Rolling forward he turned back to view his attacker.
The tyranid was hunched over, brandishing a multitude of talons affixed to four slender limbs.
Genestealers.

OP, I... I love you so much right now.

>>13816777
You can say that baby. I promise, as soon as this writing thing kicks off, we'll settle down in a house in the hills.

Before he had time to think the creature was upon him, and Sarge found himself pinned on his back, desperately trying to fend off the four arms as they stabbed and ripped at his flesh.
Sarge howled in pain as around him more genestealers made their way through the shifting walls of the dome towards his boyz.
Slugs perforated the air as the kommandos expended whole clips in the general direction of this new enemy. Torcha was crouched next to the unconscious body of Grugnov, finger firmly on the trigger as he bathed genestealer after genestealer in flame.
Boomboy was encamped atop a mound of twisted sinew, firing a hail of frag rounds over the brawl and into the passageway through which the genestealers were attempting to pour.
The rest were entrapped in desperate close quarter fighting against their gladiatorial opponents.

Bakkstab hacked a limb from one of the creatures, but was quickly overpowered by the other three. A snakelike arm darted around his choppa and up into his throat, piercing it in a splatter of gore before twisting to wrench out his trachea. Bakkstab fell to the floor, clutching at the gaping wound in his neck.
He didn’t get back up.
As the bloodsoaked genestealer rounded on Spekkit he brought his slugga down hard on its skull. Before the alien could recover he blew its head apart with a quick succession of shots.
“Die yoo zoggin’ zoggerz!” Spekkit yelled, filling the next gensestealer with lead as it lept towards him.

Meanwhile, Sarge has succeeded in hefting the genestealer off him thanks to the strength of his bionic arm. He threw the slavering beast into another that had survived Boomboyz storm of shrapnel before emptying his six shoota at the pair.
Pressing fresh slugs into their chambers, Sarge made his way over to the circle his boyz had made around Grugnov.

“Wot we gonna do boss?” yelled Slinkk in the moment of silence before more genestealers began to emerge. Sarge punched him square in the belly, winding him.
“It’s Sarge! “he raged, “An’ Mork knows. ‘Ow many bomms yoo got left Boomboy?”
“Sum”
“An’ Torcha, ‘ow much burny juice?”
“Mpmph”
“Is da skwakbox werking yet Spekkit?”
“No Sarge”
“Frag zog grotlikka. I really didn’t wanna do dis”
As his boyz fought around him, Sarge broke open his six shoota and inserted a strange red slug in place of a conventional one. He aimed his favourite gun at the hole in the ceiling and fired.
Red smoke filled the air accompanied by a loud whoosh as the flare spiralled into the sky before detonating.

Miles away, Gogz looked up from his mug of fungus brew at the blossoming cloud of red smoke.
“Well ain’t dat bootiful” he mused, before remembering what it signified. “Mork’s teeth!” he explained, jumping up from the rock he’d been sitting on and running to the cockpit of Black ‘Awk.
Banging on the glass to wake his co-pilot, Gogz waited for the cockpit to open before diving into his flight seat.
“Wotz going on?” Came a shrill voice in front of him.
“Da squig’s hit da fan!” he shouted as the rotor blades started to spin.
The startled face of a gretchin in flight cap and goggles rose above the oversized co-pilots seat in front of him.
“Yoo don’t mean...”
“Yep, da boyz are in trubble, we gotta go now!”
Scratchit settled back into his seat before reading from the flight instrument panel.
“We gotta NorthWest wind an’ low air pressure an...”
“I know that!” bellowed Gogz, “Now shut yer mouth, I’m tryin’ tah fly this fing”
The warkopta rose haphazardly into the air before thundering off in the direction of the flare.

>>13817372
fuck yeah

>“Da squig’s hit da fan!”
shamlessly stolen.

Has this been archived?
'Cause this should be archived.

Spekkit squinted up into the sky after the flare.
“Why didn’t yoo do dat sooner Sarge?”
“Yoo got any idea how many teef dem fings cost?” retorted Sarge, shattering the external ribcage of a Genestealer with his steel fist before stomping on its head as it writhed at his feet.
Slinkk was dead, and all were grievously wounded one way or another, but the kommandos were surrounded by a dozen or more genestealer bodies.
The norn queen continued to scream down at the orks, but they’d long since realised it was more or less immobile. The collateral damage to the various eggs and wombs which filled the dome seemed to add to the fury of the bloated monstrosity’s cries, and it was almost impossible to hear anything else over the noise.
Fires raged where Torcha had ignited several pools of ichor, forming a wall of flame around the kommandos. Regardless, the tyranids threw themselves through the conflagration, only to collapse smouldering moments later.
Sarge, who had strapped Grugnov to his body in place of his rucksack, stooped to light a cigar from one of the crackling genestealer corpses.
“Well ladz” he shouted “I fink I’d kall dat a job well dun”
“Not yet” said Boomboy, “Dare’s sumfing I gotta do”

Eagerly anticipating ending.
Please continue!

I like, but as a FYI the Norn Queen is a multi-kilometer command hiveship.

>>13817768
Actually, they're not. Norn Queens are huge creatures, but they're separate to the Hive Ships they reside within. I believe they may have been actual bioships at one point in the fluff, but now they're separate organisms.

>>13817768
Actually they're just the really fat organisms stuck inside such ships.

>>13817768

Not quite. They're the production facilities of the Tyranids. In more recent editions they're shown as ON the hiveships, but they can be on the ground as well for protracted campaigns. Epic even has a model for them, I believe.

>>13817851
>they can be on the ground as well for protracted campaigns. Epic even has a model for them, I believe.

Really? That's the first I've ever heard of this, I was under the assumption that Norn Queens were confined to the birthing chambers of their ships. Are you sure you're not getting mixed up with the Dominatrix?

>>13817875

Right, sorry. Mixed up norn queens and dominatrices (brood queens), my bad.

The fires had begun to cause pockets of moisture in the walls of the hive to expand and explode outwards, covering the kommandos in a rancid goo. Eventually, the sound of rotor blades could be heard, and the dim sunlight shining through the hole in the ceiling was blotted out by the shadow of the warkopta.
Presently, a thick rope was lowered into the dome where it hang, swaying slightly.
“Let’s get outta here boyz! Mount up!” ordered Sarge, unbuckling his belt and securing it through a metal hoop attached to the rope.
Before doing the same, Boomboy shook off his backpack and held it in one hand. Once the surviving boyz were ready, Sarge tugged sharply on the rope. As the orks rose into the air, Sarge grinned and made a rude gesture at the Norn Queen as it screamed and strained at the kommandos in rage.

Once outside, Sarge stared goggle-eyed at the scene below him. The Norn Queen had drawn in an immense swarm with which to protect itself, and the orks were subject to the ferocious glowers of several hundred lesser tyranids as the warkopta gained altitude.
Boomboy was the last to leave the dome, and before doing so he let his backpack fall into the growing fires below.
There was a pause, followed by a blinding flash of light and a rippling shockwave as the dome of the hive fell inwards. The pattern of the swarm’s movement, which before now had been so full of malicious intent, instantly dissolved into the confused meanderings of simple animals. Boomboy grinned as he was winched up into the bay of the warkopta.
At once, Spekkit’s skwakbox crackled into life, and the kommandos heard the following message:

“...casting on all frequencies. The Xenos are retreating! Praise the Emperor! All units do not pursue, do not pursue to all units. Spend this time wisely in the fortification of defences, for this is unlikely to be the end on conflict. This is bunker XII brodcas...”

“Spekkit, git on da skwakbox to da oomies right now, tell ‘em we got da Kernal!” ordered Sarge
After the frantic turning of several dials, Spekkit got through.
“Dis is Blakk Opz, we got Kernal Grugnov”
“....Praise th....Black Ops? Identify yourselves at once!”
“Yoo know, da merks yoo got tah bring bakk Grugnov”

Miles away, across various battlefields, Imperial Guardsmen were staring at their vox casters in confusion.

“I’m patching you through to command. Hold”
...
“This is Lord Commander Isaac Kornin. What is the situation?”
“For da last time, we got Kernal Grugnov, like wot we sed we wud”
“The xenos. You would be well advised to address me appropriately, scum. Is he alive?”

“Sarge, is da oomie breathin’?”
Sarge lowered the Colonel onto the deck before confirming he was alive.

“Yer”
“Impossible...how!?”
“’Cuz we’ze Orkz an’ we’ze best. Now, yoo got free hours tah giv us dem tankz we wanted, else Grugnov gets it. Oh, an’ we want medals. Big wunz”

>>13818225
>Oh, an’ we want medals. Big wunz”

Foul Xeno Cross: Horrifcus Class

Good show OP, hope to see something from you some other time.

Suptg archive for this and coming works?

>>13818274
You'll have to wait till next time I pull a sickie. I'll have words with my immune system.

Excellent work OP.

Good show OP

Great story!

OP again, I'm going to make a kommando mob based off these characters, but don't expect that anytime soon.

Also thanks for the praise, appreciated.

>>13818225
>Blakk opzz
>Not Green Berretz
Bloody Axez are unorky.

>>13818593
Dey iz ded killy ya git! Dont ya know colurs?

Very well written. Should definetly be archived.

Roight an propa orky.

brilliant it was like call of duty: black orks

>>13815459
Sum say 'e knowz two fax about squigz. And both of dem are wrong. And dat 'e once tried ta shave da emprahs head, only ta find dat 'e was already bald.

All we'z know, iz dat 'e's called da Stig

>>13818805
Youz mean da Squig!

>“Spekkit, git on da skwakbox to da oomies right now, tell ‘em we got da Kernal!”

PRAISE THE EMPEROR

OP, YOUZ GUD ENUFF TO BE AN HONE....HONER...HONERY...BE LIKE AN ORK OOMIE!

>>13815519
Agreed, the Blood Axes got too much like the rest of the orkz.

I liked the Freeboota heavy 'umie koppy'n sneaks.

dis 'ere storie of propa orkyness is now arkived so all future Boyz kin lern somefing from it.