Chapter Twenty-Four: The Last Hold (Part IV)

Location: Khazrik Hold, Hold-World of the Karag System

Date: 889.M30 (Imperial Standard Time)

The Last Hold of the Squats lay at the end of a chain of stars, a small dying ember of the Khazkhun Alliance. After thousands of years of warfare, the Orks had finally butchered their way here. To Grungron, the most sacred world of the Khazkhun. Neither the first settled nor largest Homeworld, it held its place of honor for two reasons. Within its rocky citadels the first Living Ancestors came to be. The first of the ancient Squats who had touched the Warp and molded it to their will with a master craftsman's tenacity. And if the legends are to be believed it is also the place where the first Squats altered themselves to survive the Core Worlds. Surrendering the frail long-bones of the Outsiders for the stout strength of the Khazkhun.

Considered the ritual heart of the Squat people, it made sense it was where they made a final stand. It had been fortified for millenia even before the Ork Wars. In case a final stronghold was ever needed. Now it's time had come, and it has proved itself over and over again. For nearly as long as Linnar-Khaz had held Grungron stood strong. With a fraction of the defenders and resources the first besieged Hold-World possessed. This was in no small part due to the nature of Grungron and the Karag System.

Orbiting an ancient Red Supergiant of a Star. Grungron was easily six times the size of Terra. A hulk of a rocky world. Orbiting close to its star and bathed in the heat, radiation and intense gravity of the system. Transforming its crust in a miracle of stellar and geologic phenomena. The crust of Grungron was composed of natural Adamantium and macro-diamonds. Adamantium is perhaps one of the most sought after and useful materials in the known galaxy. Ironic since mankind discovered it only long after it left Sol. The stable yellow star and its neighboring systems are unable to produce the miraculous material. Here in the galactic core it was practically common. The violent ancient stars of the Galactic Core forging it within their children-worlds.

Now the adamantium crust of Grungron had been polished to a sheen by the constant bombardment of the Orks. Futilely trying to break through the nigh impenetrable surface. The Greenskins had long searched for a way to crack open the Last Hold. Looking for any way to subvert the world's natural and artificial defenses. It was all for nothing. Only once in recorded history had the surface of Grungron been punctured. During the heights of Mankind's first Golden Age. The intellect and might of humanity, both flesh and steel was put to the test. A laser drill powered by a dying star had been constructed. Blasting a hole through the Adamantium crust in a surge of energy visible across the galaxy. Punching a country sized hole into Grungron. Liquid stone and metal spat out of the wound. A fountain of the planet's innards bubbling into Grungrons atmosphere.

This would be the ancient miners entrance into the Adamantium world. Decades of work allowed them to take control of the nation-sized volcanic eruption. Sculpting the flow of stone and metal to create a place of wealth and safety. A stronghold arose in the world's wound. Over centuries and then millenia the Mining-Clans of Grungron had burrowed into the crust of the world and constructed a leviathan Stronghold where they had punctured its surface. Below the hard outer crust layer of Adamantium was a realm of riches beyond belief. Gems, Metals, Gas-Pockets, anything and everything needed to forge an empire below the surface. Away from the surface, molten seas of Adamantium flowed. It was here the Stronghold of Khazrik rose.

Now all these millenia later it stood strong. The Super-Volcano born of the hole in Grungrons crust had grown massive. A massive hundred-kilometer tall spire of obsidian, adamantium and volcanic rock. Spanning the size of a country and hollowed out by diligent work of the Squats. From its peaks and carved tunnels a steady stream of lava poured. Covering the Stronghold with a cloak of molten rock. Growing the mighty fortress-nation in size and protecting it from any attackers. From the top of the fortress to its base a waterfall of molten rock fell. Channeled into deep canyons carved in ages past. Forming a moat-ocean of lava around the Stronghold. Which reached deeper into the world than its peaks touched the sky. Billions lived beneath the crust and volcanic seas of the Hold-World. With the great stronghold the only access point into the deeps.

Now the Orks threw the full terrible might of their wrath at Khazrik Hold. Storms of dropships and Roks picked from the sky by turret fire and weapon systems built into the Mountain. Yet these were not the main defense available to the Squats The Karag System was home to many natural threats. From rogue moons, too wild asteroids. The ancient Squats had devised a tool to defend their great hold against such things. The Super-Volcano of Khazrik Hold had been harnessed to break planets. Its peak which normally bubbled a steady river of Lava held a secret. That natural flow was a pressure valve on its true volcanic heart. A system of tubes and caverns that put the Squats' knowledge of geology, thermodynamics and mass-drivers to the test had been created. The raw explosive power of Grungrons core leaking out of the hole had never abated. The wound had never been allowed to heal, instead it was harnessed.

A compressed blister of heat and molten stone carrying the contained energy of a heavy-worlds core. Channeled through a series of coil-guns and gravitic-launchers larger than those used on Starforts. Resulting in a triggered eruption of super-heated heavy-metals and silicate. This crudely aimed shot-cannon capable of blasting entire planets apart in a stream of plasma and super-heated metal moving at relativistic speeds. The Squats had turned their last-hold into a self-fueling Nova Cannon many times larger than Olympus Mons. Inaccurate and obscenely dangerous. This weapon the Squats called Rikkazrik, or Hammer of the King.

Which had its site set upon Grunhag the Flaya and his Bigga Hulk. The now planet sized mass of scraps and scavenge had swollen with spoils of each fallen Hold-World. On discovering the Entrance-mountain f Khazrik Hold. The Warboss is said to have laughed maniacally as he ordered his Mekboyz to prepare the Bigga hulk for "Rammmin Speed!" From the system's Mandivellie point to Grungrons orbit the Bigga Hulk accelerated as fast as it could. A rogue planet of cruel Xeno wrath rocketing through the system. It alone carrying billions of Orks across its labyrinth of wrecks and scavenged parts. All united in a maddened chant of "FASTA! FASTA! FASTA!" as the Bigga Hulk flew towards Khazrik Hold. Ready to smash the mountain entrance to powder. As it approached the Squats prayed to their Ancestor Gods. Over the millennia of warfare with the Orks. The Bigga Hulk had become a symbol of misery and doom for the Khazkhun. Entering their cultural sagas as an ill omen and sign of evil. The Bad Moon of the Urk.

Larger and more terrible than ever before the Bigga Hulk bared down upon Khazrik Hold. Ready to slam itself into the spire of molten rock that capped the Hold-World. The indomitable peak of the Last Hold a prime target for Grunhags cruel rage. Just as the Squats had hoped. They prayed to their Ancestors not for deliverance, they prayed for vengeance. Beseeching the honored dead for accuracy and power. The Squats had long known they were doomed. The Greenskins would wipe them from the galaxy like a river washing away so many pebbles. That did not mean they had to go peacefully. Grunhag must die with them. That was the goal now. No longer to withstand the Orkish assault, but kill Grunhag and make his WAAAGH suffer for every Khaz life taken.

The Rikkazrik would be the tool of vengence. The Squats had anticipated Grunhag would seek to smash the last remaining monument of their people from the galaxy. The greenskins' cruelty would be his downfall. As the Bigga Hulk got within a million kilometers from planet Grunhag. The Rikkazrik prepared to open fire. Great adamantium flood-gates were opened and engines of ruin ignited. The entire mountain-spire trembled with the building heat. Its Adamantium skeleton vibrating as some primordial tuning fork. Heat and pressure built within a manufactured caldera. The life-blood of Grungron molded through gravity, magnetic fields and adamantium valves. Pressed into a capped geyser of plasma and molten metal. Thousands of Squats across the Hold-mountain worked desperately. Using generations of ancestral knowledge to prime and aim the Kings Hammer.

Deep under the mountain the Hold-Lord of Khazrik gave the order to fire. The grizzled old Squat was the ruler of the Last Hold and had longed dreamed of this day. When his ancestors revenge would finally come. At his word the ancient mechanisms of Rikkazrik opened up. An electromagnetic beam and gravitational assist pulse flared out from the Entrance-Mountains peak. Destroying a few unfortunate Ork craft between them and the Bigga Hulk. A nice side-effect of what was the largest targeting array in the known galaxy. Designed to form an electromagnetic corridor and gravity tunnel. The Bigga Hulk did not notice the beam and continued onward. Even if the Orks knew what was about to happen they had no method of stopping it. The Bigga Hulk was on a full collision course and it would take unfathomable energy to slow or redirect it. Which is exactly what the Squats unleashed.

A geyser of metal and stone superheated into pseudo-plasma. Moving at relativistic speeds spat forth from the Rikkazrik. The ancient red giant of the Karag system seemed to dim in comparison to the Kings Hammer. Space/Time convulsed under the pressure. Dozens of micro-blackholes formed and dissipated. Creating celestial detonations of hyper-dense Hawking Radiation and unstable singularities. A shotgun blast of aborted stars cloaked in a nebula of plasma and molten metal slammed into the Bigga Hulk. It's a testament to the Orkish WAAAGH!!! Field and their old-one gifted knowledge that the Bigga Hulk was not simply atomotized. An engineering nightmare of overlapping and mismatched shields covered the Bigga Hulk. Successfully shunting enough energy into the Warp to destabilize entire Daemon Worlds before overloading.

The Orkish ability to alter reality is often misunderstood. It is not some god-form of all powerful reality warping subject only to the beliefs and number of the Orks. In truth its a form of probability manipulation. With advanced Orkish technology reliant on this ability to "grease the wheels" of reality to work. An Orkish gun works in theory, but is shoddily made and would misfire ½ of the time it fires. The WAAAGH!!! Field does not miraculously make the gun better quality, it simply betters the odds of the gun working properly. This effect with sufficient Orks can scale up in incredible ways. Allowing spot-welded wrecks and conglomerates of space-junk to act as effective Void-Ships. With the billions of Greenskins within WAAAGH Grunhag this probability affecting power could twist the laws of physics to extremes. If it was theoretically possible for the Bigga Hulk to survive such a blow as the Rikkarik it would.

That is not to say it would be unharmed. Instead of reduced to exotic molecules and cosmic dust. The Bigga Hulk was shattered. Even the power of billions of Orks believing in the invincibility and power of the Bigga Hulk and Grunhag. Could not save it from the Squats wrath. The energy of the super-volcanoes discharge found the path of least resistance. Cutting through the ossified ships that bound the Hulk together. Superheating lesser metals into detonations of plasma. Like some great gem hit on its shatterpoint by a hammer the Bigga Hulk fractured. Its planet-sized bulk exploded into millions of pieces. Ranging from celestial ash to smoldering mountains. In a single moment the Orkish super-weapon had been broken.

Grunhags sadism had demanded he personally break the Last Hold with his greatest weapon. The Squats had made him pay dearly for his bestial cruelty. For decades of adjusted solar time Khazrik Hold was orbited by an artificial asteroid belt. The long feared Bigga Hulk, the Bad Moon of Squat myth. Reduced to a circlet of trash. This cloud of debris along with the great clouds of plasma left by the Rikkarik firing shrouded Grungrons orbit. This did little to stop the rest of the Orks from attempting to continue the invasion. Hundreds of Orkish ships were lost crossing this girdle of debris. A small number compared to the thousands more who fell upon Grungron in a rain of slag. The war continued and soon its architect would rejoin it.

A near permanent meteor-shower existed across the Last Hold-World. The remnants of the Bigga Hulk decaying from orbit. Eventually one of these large fragments fell to Grungron. A continent sized chunk of semi-molten metal and burnt rock. Crashing into the Adamantium crust at an angle and leaving a 8,000 km trail of debris. From the moment it landed the Orks congregating across Grungron rushed to it. A new mania embracing the already psychotic Greenskins. Entire Gargants and more bizarre contraptions dreamed up by Mekboyz were used in this salvaging operation. Frantically digging through this titanic shard. Guided on by some deep-seated sense born of the WAAAGH!!! The call of the Warboss. Despite everything the Squats had done to destroy him. The Planet cracking force generated by the Rikkarik. Grunhag the Flayer had survived.

Survived might be too strong a word, persisted would be more accurate. The sheer power of the Orkish WAAAGH focused on its Warboss had spared him certain death. It had twisted probablity to ensure Grunhag lived, even in the most basic of ways. Cooked alive and sealed within the compacted slag that was once the Bigga Hulks bridge. Little more than a torso and head covered in fourth degree burns. Grunhag clung to life. When the first of the Gretchin dig-teams unearthed the entombed Warboss. The mostly dead Ork had still managed to bite the head off one of the Gretchin diggers. Proving to WAAAGH!!! Grunhag, that the boss was still himself.

An elite force of Painboyz and Mekz were assembled to put the Warboss back together. Cybernetic limbs and organs born of Squat Technology and Orkish brilliance were assembled. A dozen Nobs who had attempted to claim the Warlordship for themselves after the breaking of the Bigga Hulk were disassembled for parts. Pried apart by giggling Dokz, giddy to try new experimental methods of Cybork surgery. By the end of this promethean event, Warboss Grunhag the Flaya was back. Bigger, meaner and quite thoroughly insane even by Orkish standards. His skin had been seared clean off and refused to heal. Leading an enterprising Dok to a solution inspired by his Warbosses epitaph. Great sheets of flayed skin, taken form unlucky Orks, and even more unlucky Squat prisoners. Were stitched together in a macabre suit of stolen skin.

Dressed in this patch-work skin and reborn with incredible cybernetics Grunhag was back. Exploding from the "Operatin Sweet" in a mad-rage Grunhag returned to his WAAAGH!!! and proclaimed the dread-warcry of the Orks. As the call of WAAAGH!!! Echoed across Grungron the Squats prepared for the final battle.