Talen shook the bazooka sadly. ‘That’s it. I’m out of ammo.’

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ Amity told them.

  ‘You think? But how?’

  They ducked as a bomb-squig whizzed over their heads. They were surrounded, Orks battling all around.

  Zelia scanned the carnage until she saw Nettle-Nekk and Badtoof pummelling each other in the centre of the melee. Nettle-Nekk was swiping at his mortal enemy with a nail-studded club while Badtoof blocked each and every blow with his bent rocket launcher.

  ‘Whether you were joking or not, this is my fault,’ Zelia said. ‘And I need to put it right.’

  Talen looked at her as if she were mad. ‘And how are you going to do that?’

  ‘Like this,’ Zelia replied, spotting the dazed bomb-squig staggering around the battlefield, clutching a boom-stick in its mouth.

  Before her friends could stop her, Zelia snatched up the small creature and raced towards the battling bosses. She knew that it could go off at any minute but had to take the risk.

  She thought she heard Talen call after her, but ignored him, lobbing the bomb-squig at Badtoof and Nettle-Nekk. It bounced once on the ground and landed between the two warring Orks. The squig looked up, realised that it was likely to be stomped beneath a green heel and bit down on its explosive stick.

  The blast threw the two warbosses apart. Zelia didn’t wait for them to get up. She raced between the fallen warriors and yelled, ‘Stop!’

  Charging between duelling bosses was so monumentally stupid that the warring tribes stopped fighting to gape at the small human.

  ‘You?’ Badtoof spluttered, scrambling to his feet. ‘You dare knock me down? You dare strike Badtoof the Rotten?’

  ‘I dare!’ Zelia shouted back, hoping they wouldn’t hear the wobble in her voice as she whirled on Nettle-Nekk. ‘And I knocked you down too! The two biggest Orks on the planet and I stopped them in their tracks!’

  ‘I’ll kill ya!’ Nettle-Nekk thundered.

  ‘Will you? Tell me this – if you’re so big and powerful, what does that make me? I won, which means I’m the best. I’m stronger than both of you, so you better bow down.’

  ‘You wot?’

  ‘You heard me! Bow down!’

  ‘To you?’ Badtoof raged.

  ‘Yes, to me. That’s what Orks do, isn’t it? Winner takes all. Am I right?’

  ‘Nah, yer wrong!’ Nettle-Nekk bellowed. ‘I’ll pulverise ya, ya little squirt! I’ll pound ya into da ground!’

  To prove his point, he lifted his club, ready to bring it smashing down on Zelia’s head. She gulped, realising that her plan hadn’t worked. She’d wanted to use the Orks’ own logic against them. Instead she had just put herself in danger.

  As Nettle-Nekk’s club came down, the hulking brute suddenly looked up at the sound of someone laughing. Zelia yelped as his club smacked harmlessly into the ground beside her. The distraction had been enough to put off his aim.

  The Orks gaped at Badtoof, who was roaring with laughter, tears running down his face.

  ‘Oi!’ Nettle-Nekk yelled. ‘You put me off, you guff-faced twit! Wot’s so funny, anyway?’

  ‘Dat izz!’ Badtoof said, jabbing a finger at Zelia. ‘Did ya hear wot she said? She’s stronga dan both of us!’

  He held his sides as he continued to guffaw. ‘It’s da funniest fing I ever ’eard.’

  Nettle-Nekk looked at his rival as if he’d gone mad, before sniggering himself. The snigger turned into a snort, and the snort turned into a chortle and the chortle turned into a whoop. Before long, both Orks were hugging each other, practically falling over with laughter.

  ‘She… said… she… woz… betta! Ha-ha-ha-haaaaa!’

  In the middle of the battlefield, Talen let his useless bazooka fall to his side. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d heard people say that laughter was infectious, but the warbosses’ glee had spread around both Ork tribes like a virus. All the greenskins – Tek-Hedz and Snake-Skulls alike – were howling with laughter. Warriors that had just been trying to kill each other were now slapping each other on the back as if they were old friends.

  He looked around to see Mekki gaping in wonder, but frowned. Where was Amity? The captain had vanished.

  From her vantage point between the warbosses, Zelia decided to press her advantage.

  A minute ago, she had felt like a complete and utter failure. She had brought the Profiteer to the wrong planet and had almost got her friends killed. But now look at what had happened! She’d stopped a battle! Two tribes of belligerent Orks were listening to her.

  All right, technically they were laughing at her, but she had their attention nonetheless. She glanced at Talen, hoping he’d take the hint and run for the trees, but the former ganger was looking around, as if searching for something… or someone.

  She had to press the advantage while she had it. She turned back to the two chiefs.

  ‘Look at you,’ Zelia said. ‘A minute ago, you were at each other’s throats, and now what are you doing?’

  Badtoof frowned, wiping tears from his eyes. ‘I dunno.’

  ‘You’re laughing, together. Laughing at me. Don’t you see. All those years of fighting and battling–’

  ‘Waaagh!ing,’ Nettle-Nekk added.

  ‘Yes. All those years Waaagh!ing. What was the point? Tell me. Why do you keep fighting?’

  Badtoof shrugged his mighty shoulders. ‘Sumfink to do, ain’t it?’

  Nettle-Nekk nodded. ‘Yeah. We’s Orks. We get up, we eat…’

  ‘We belch,’ Badtoof added. ‘Don’t forget da belching.’

  ‘As if I could,’ Nettle-Nekk acknowledged. ‘And den we fight! Always ’ave done…’

  ‘Always will,’ Badtoof agreed.

  ‘So what happens when one of you wins?’ Zelia asked.

  That flummoxed them. ‘Wot do ya mean?’ Badtoof asked.

  ‘What happens when one of you finally beats the other?’

  Badtoof scratched his wig-squig. ‘Never really fort about it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Nettle-Nekk nodded. ‘We’ve been too busy brawlin’.’

  ‘Then think about it now,’ she implored them. ‘You’re all Orks. You’re all the same.’

  ‘How?’ asked Nettle-Nekk.

  ‘We’re all green?’ suggested Badtoof.

  ‘Yes,’ Zelia said. ‘And you’re all big, and you’re brave, and you’re… you’re…’

  She floundered, running out of similarities.

  ‘You all find the same things funny,’ Talen said, racing up to join them. ‘Look how you all laughed at this pathetic little runt!’

  ‘Oi,’ Zelia said, beneath her breath.

  ‘I’m helping,’ Talen hissed.

  ‘You should be running!’

  But the warbosses were chuckling again.

  ‘De runt izz funny,’ said Badtoof. ‘Made you laugh,’ he added, nodding at Nettle-Nekk.

  ‘And you,’ the Snake-Skull chief agreed.

  ‘See!’ Zelia said. ‘And if you laugh at the same things, just imagine what else you could do if you worked together.’

  ‘Like catch the Biggun,’ Talen said.

  ‘Exactly!’

  ‘We’ve been searching for ’im for ages,’ Nettle-Nekk admitted.

  Badtoof sniggered. ‘Us too.’

  Zelia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Sure, she’d started all this to try and get her friends out of danger… but what if it really worked? What if she actually got the Orks to stop their stupid war?

  ‘Just imagine if you joined forces…’ she suggested.

  ‘You’d snare that big old squig in no time,’ Talen added.

  ‘We wud?’ Nettle-Nekk asked.

  ‘You’ll go down in history,’ Zelia told him. ‘People will sing songs in your honour.’

  ‘I’ll sing a song for ya, boss,’ String-Guts called from the sidelines, snatching up the discarded guitar-launcher.

  ‘Not just songs,’ Zelia said before the gretchin could start caterwauling. ‘There will be feasts… fireworks!’

  ‘Boom-sticks?’ Nettle-Nekk asked.

  ‘The biggest, brightest boom-sticks you could ever imagine.’

  ‘Maybe someone will build statues of you both,’ Talen said.

  ‘I like statues,’ Badtoof said. ‘We’ve got a humongous one we use for target practice.’

  Zelia and Talen exchanged a look. So that’s what had blown them out of the sky – Ork missiles!

  ‘Do you reckon our statue will be bigger?’ Nettle-Nekk asked.

  ‘I reckon so,’ Badtoof agreed.

  Behind them, String-Guts was starting to tune up. It sounded like a hundred grox bellowing at once.

  ‘Wot do ya say?’ Badtoof asked, holding out a sweaty hand. ‘Should we do it? Should we team up?’

  All eyes were on Nettle-Nekk. The Snake-Skull chief peered at the offered palm and everyone peered at him. Then, the bearded Ork clasped Badtoof’s hand and pumped it furiously.

  ‘Why not, eh? Why not?’

  The Orks erupted into cheers while String-Guts struck up a rendition of ‘Badtoof and Nettle-Nekk, they’re zogging amazing and don’t ya forget it!’

  Grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear, Badtoof pulled back his hand.

  ‘This is an ’istoric moment, Nettle-Nekk, ol’ pal,’ he said, glancing down at his palm.

  That’s when he saw the grenade that Nettle-Nekk had slapped into his open hand.

  That’s when he exploded.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Victory

  One second Badtoof was standing there, the next he was gone. All that was left of the once mighty warboss was a steaming crater and a hair-squig running for freedom.

  ‘Zelia?’

  She coughed, her throat full of dust. She had been thrown clear by the blast, the side of her face puckered from the heat.

  Talen ran up, his face blackened and his tunic torn. ‘Are you okay?’

  He went to help her up, but she pushed him away angrily. ‘You shook on it,’ she shouted at Nettle-Nekk, stomping towards the chief. ‘You said–’

  ‘I said nuffink,’ Nettle-Nekk sneered, picking himself up from where he had been thrown from the blast. His green skin was blackened, his face scorched, but his grin was wider than ever. ‘As if Orks would ever make peace. Orks only make Waaagh! Right, boyz?’

  Every Ork in the arena cheered, punching the air.

  ‘But you was right about sumfink, humie,’ Nettle-Nekk admitted. ‘We’re betta togetha, and we are togetha now, ’cos I’m da biggest and I’m da best, and EVERYONE FOLLOWS ME!’

  This time the cheer was even louder, Snake-Skulls and Tek-Hedz finally united.

  ‘Are you wiv me, boyz?’ Nettle-Nekk called.

  ‘Yeah!’

  ‘I said, ARE YOU WIV ME?’

  ‘YEAH!’

  ‘Oo’z gonna catch da Biggun?’

  ‘We are!’

  ‘And wot will we do when we ’ave it?’

  That stopped them. The Orks looked at each other blankly, shuffling uncomfortably. No greenskin could think that far ahead – except one.

  A scrawny hand went up.

  ‘Yes?’ Nettle-Nekk asked.

  ‘Er…’ stammered String-Guts, every Orky eye on him. ‘We fight the humies, boss?’

  ‘Exactly!’ Nettle-Nekk roared. ‘We fight the humies! I likes the way ya think, grot. Wot’s yer name?’

  ‘S-String-Guts, boss.’

  ‘Squirm-Guts?’

  The gretchin shrugged. ‘Close enough.’

  ‘Then dat is wot it will be. We’ll ’ead up there,’ the warboss said, pointing straight up, ‘to the big fiery fings in da sky. We’ll smash the humies, smash ’em good. It’ll be a right dust up. The Waaagh! to end all Waaaghs!’

  The Orks cheered and whooped and hit each other – not because they were enemies any more, but because they were Orks and that’s just the kind of thing Orks do.

  Talen swallowed. ‘Do you think we’ve just made things worse?’

  ‘I reckon so,’ Zelia said.

  ‘Do you think we should run away?’

  ‘As fast as our legs can carry us.’

  ‘Not fast enuff!’ Nettle-Nekk barked, grabbing Zelia’s arm and lifting her from the ground. ‘We need you, humie, and yer runty friends too.’

  Orks grabbed Talen and Mekki, holding them tight before they could escape.

  ‘What are you going to do with us?’ Zelia wailed, as she was dangled in front of Nettle-Nekk’s face.

  ‘Yer gonna ’elp us catch da Biggun,’ he told her. ‘All of us working togetha!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Zelia said as Weald’s sun beat down on them.

  ‘What for?’ Talen asked.

  ‘This is all my fault. Deciding to come here, trying to reason with the Orks. I was so stupid and now look at us.’

  Talen pulled against the restraints that were tied around his wrists and ankles. Yes, it was fair to say that they were in trouble. The Orks had pegged them out at the foot of Emperor’s Seat mountain. The knots they had tied were seemingly unbreakable and this time there wasn’t any sloppy Ork war paint to use to slip free.

  But Zelia blaming herself wasn’t going to help anyone.

  ‘Zelia, we haven’t time for this. Yes, you said we should come here, but none of us argued, did we? We went along with it, and, if we’re looking for someone to blame, which knucklehead suggested that Nettle-Nekk used bait to attract the Biggun?’

  ‘I assume the knucklehead was you, Talen Stormweaver,’ Mekki said.

  ‘Got it in one, Cog-Boy. But we’re not squig-food yet.’

  Zelia didn’t look like she believed him, but nodded all the same.

  ‘So what do we do?’

  That was where Talen’s pep talk fell down. He had absolutely no idea what they should do next. They were on their own. Amity had vanished, and Fleapit too. He’d hoped the captain had been lying in wait, ready to rescue them when the time was right, but the odds of that happening reduced with every passing moment. It was more likely that the rogue trader had spotted an opportunity to save her own skin and grabbed it with both hands. The old Talen wouldn’t have blamed her, the Talen who had learned to look out for himself in Rhal Rata’s teeming undercity. But things had changed, and so had he.

  That didn’t mean that he knew what to do next, especially when the ground beneath them started to shake.

  Boom.

  It was barely noticeable at first, but soon was impossible to ignore.

  Boom! Boom!

  Something was coming. Something impossibly big.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! BOOM!

  With an ear-splitting roar, the Biggun charged out of the jungle, splintering trees in its path. There was one thing they could all agree on: the colossal squig certainly lived up to its name.

  The creature was huge, blocking out the sun. It ran on two muscular legs, its body little more than a gigantic, red-skinned head. It had two rows of yellow eyes and a mouth full of teeth that could snap the Profiteer in two. Steam snorted from its flat nose as it bounded forwards, heading straight for them.

  Zelia screamed. Mekki screamed. Even Talen screamed. They writhed on the ground, desperately straining at their bonds, but the knots only tightened.

  They were finished. There was no way to stop the colossal squig from trampling them beneath its wide, clawed feet.

  Until…

  A horn sounded and a thick rope snapped up from the floor, right in front of the rampaging squig. The monster couldn’t stop in time, and tripped, its bulbous body toppling forwards. It crashed head first onto the ground, and the impact reverberated around the mountainside. But that was nothing compared to its bellow as harpoons flew over its body, each trailing thick cords. These criss-crossed the fallen beast, slamming into the dirt to its left and to its right.

  The squig scrambled to its feet, dragging with it the Orks who clung desperately onto their ropes, trying to anchor it in place. Other members of the now unified clans ran to their aid, grabbing ropes and hauling with all their combined might. The squig bayed, snapping at its would-be captors. It crushed them beneath its feet, slammed them against trees, but eventually was brought down, pinned to the ground by a spiderweb of ropes.

  ‘We did it!’ String-Guts cried, guitar-launcher still around his neck. ‘We captured da Biggun!’

  ‘No, Squirm-Guts. I did it,’ Nettle-Nekk boomed, swatting the heavy metal minstrel into a tree. ‘Finally. I am victori… I am victur… I WON!’

  The Orks threw back their heads and howled in triumph, banging drums and thumping each other… all except String-Guts, who picked himself up from where he had fallen, grumbling beneath his breath.

  Talen saw his chance. ‘Hey, String-Guts.’

  The gretchin blinked. ‘You got me name right.’

  ‘Of course I did. You’re String-Guts the Great.’

  String-Guts looked over his shoulder to check that Talen wasn’t talking about anyone else.

  ‘I am?’

  ‘You bet. And the way you play that instrument thing? It’s amazing.’

  String-Guts fiddled with the guitar-launcher’s out-of-tuning pegs. ‘I ’ave been practising.’

  ‘It shows. And I get why. You want to impress your new boss, don’t you?’

  String-Guts nodded furiously. ‘Oh yes, more dan anything.’

  ‘Then let us go.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘We can help each other. What did Nettle-Nekk say he wants to do?’

  ‘Take to da fiery things in da sky.’

  ‘To the stars, yeah, and for that he’ll need a spaceship.’

  ‘Aww, we got spaceships,’ String-Guts shrugged. ‘Lots of spaceships.’

 

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