The holo-projector flared, throwing a crackling image of a hideous face. It resembled a greenskin runt, its snivelling visage all bladed ears and hooked nose. Even its chin was sharp as a dagger, and its lips were stretched into a broad smile of yellow fangs. It screeched some vile sound, though Kikazar mercifully deadened the cacophony. More of the runts appeared in the flickering image, chittering like excited rats as they eyeballed me in turn. One of them began crowing, as if summoning a superior.

We did not wait long. Something seized the projector, twisting it around. We were momentarily treated to a montage of scrap and scattered tools, before the snarling face of the runts’ master loomed into view.

It was an ork, but worse, for it appeared half-machine too. Its jaw had been replaced by mandibles of jagged metal, and its right eye was a blood-red lens fused into the skull. It roared a barrage of guttural sounds, savagery on full display. It seemed impossible such a beast could master the simplest device, or possess the faintest understanding of the technology embedded in its skull.

But somehow it had taken control of my seer-skull and was broadcasting a message. Of sorts.

‘Vile xenos!’ I spat, though this bravado was only possible because I was far from the beast.

It surprisingly fell silent at my words, its slab of a brow drooping into a frown. Abruptly, it seized one of the diminutive greenskins, bellowing at it before backhanding the creature across the face. It scampered off, and returned dragging a cable. I am not sure where it was inserted, only that I felt a fresh stab of pain in my temple.

The ork bared its fangs and spewed another mouthful of abuse. But all I heard from Kikazar’s vox was a monotonic voice.

‘Query – summon/obtain Gork’s Emissary.’

I stared at the twitching skull. It had never spoken before.

The ork roared again.

‘Query – bring/challenge Gork’s Emissary,’ the skull repeated.

But it was then I realised that it was not the seer-skull who addressed us.

It was the ork.

Chapter thirty

CHAPTER THIRTY

I thought I’d gone mad. The greenskin leader, for that is surely what it was, continued to snarl like an animal. But Kikazar regurgitated its words, transcribing them into Low Gothic as best it could.

‘Request/demand Gork’s Emissary engages in battle. Refusal warrants sanctions/termination.’

I did not know what to say. Shard had propped herself on her elbows, but still lay in the bunk.

Was the ork even addressing us? Perhaps this was a feedback loop triggered by the greenskin hacking into the device.

‘You are in no place to issue demands!’ I said with feigned bravado.