[b][h3][color=007236][center]Big Mek Garock[/center][/color][/h3][/b][hr]

Da humies didn't put up much of a fight.
Not that such things mattered to Garock as much as the others. Still, as soon as Da Fortrezz crashed over and through their barricades all the little humies just scattered. Garock rather enjoys the red spray that comes up when da deff rolla finds flesh, but with all the cowards running away there wasn't enough red paint in the kosmos to make Da Fortrezz fast enough to catch up.
Garock scratched his chin, while leaving a mental note to get more red paint.

He was standing in his workshop, looking over the choicest bits of loot recovered from the humies. Most of them were using little laser pointers, useless little fings. Garock had no idea how they worked, but that didn't stop him from gutting them and now the mek was staring down at the assembled pile of scraps, preemptively trying to figure out what his next good idea would be. That said, all the thinking was starting to hurt, so Garock instead took a few steps away from his main workbench and took the latch of the door in his large green hand.

The latch creaked with a rusted pain, but under ork strength it turned all the same. Stepping out onto one of the balconies Garock took in the sight of WAAAGH Kragot. It was glorious, and it was right proper green.
They were situated in a wide valley that wound it's way up nearly from the base to the tip of the Fluens. Nearly as far as the eye could see were the tents of the orks, and the gretchens were working hard to replace those tents with proper huts using the scrap collected at the base of the volcano and the pieces collected on the march here. 
About a week ago WAAAGH Kragot had arrived on the planet, and began walking towards the volcano that was their destination. Carving a green path of destruction the humies quickly realized where the orks were heading and tried to hold them at the entrance to the valley, going to far as to build a big wood and dirt wall to keep da orks out. Didn't stop Da Fortrezz.

Now Garocks was staring out over the camp, taking in the smells of roasted squig and fresh shite, an orky combination if ever he knew one. Da Fortrezz had the place of honour of being in the center of the camp, right next to Kragot's hut. In fact, said hut was somewhat obscuring Garock's view, mostly because gretchens were still all over it, building it ever taller in an effort to be larger than Da Fortrezz. Giving the working whelps work a look over though Garocks could easily see that if he just slightly bumped the hut with Da Fortrezz the entire thing would come crumbling down, maybe even with Kragots in it. [I]Mek-Boss Gragot[/I], now that was an interesting thought.

Garock reached for a small leather bag on his waist, and after some fumbling produced from it a fresh chewing squig. Popping the creature into his mouth the mek turned around and sealed himself back into his workshop. At the workbench a tall stool held aloft Gids, who was busy putting a shoota together. Garock was amazed at the cleverness of the gretchen, and maybe if the whelp had been born a proper ork they could have partners. As it was though, Garock gave the diminutive creature a slap to the head as he walked by before taking up his earlier position staring down at the bits and pieces of a dozen deconstructed lasguns.
Garock chewed on the squig in his mouth, deep in concentration. He could do something with these scraps. He was supposed to do something with these scraps. Mork wanted him to-
Garock was interrupted mid thought by the loud clanging of a shoota being tossed down into the room below as Gids shouted down, "Fixed it!" In less than a heartbeat Garock was across the room, kicking the stool Gids stood on across the room and sending the gretchen to the ground in a heap. "I was havin' an idea!" Garock shouted in anger. The whelp below him stared up at Garock, his beady red eyes producing tears as he whimpered, "I'm sorry boss I ams! I'm sorry!" Garock couldn't stay mad at that. Giving Gids a solid kick to remind him whose the boss Garock stomped over to his workbench, all the while Gids ran off, a wide grin of triumph upon his face.

"Git" Garock said to himself as he stared down at the scraps. Wait a moment, Garock thought, wait a moment! The mek got to work, attaching various bits and whatzits together, adding bolts or tape as required until... it was done. And it was a beaut. A mass of rifle barrels, all attached to one another with tape and hope, which would fire a barrage of deadly lazers when the trigger was pulled. Of course, the various lazers weren't very strong before, certainly not a weapon to be used by a proper ork, but when all the power sources were fused together, as well as when paired with a particularly nice bit of powery scrap Gids found in an humie bike one time, the makeshift weapon could punch through even heavy armor. Maybe. Or it could explode, leaving a crater where the user was.

Maybe it would be best, juuuuust in case, to give dis one to da boss, Garock decided. Hefting up the heavy weapon, which looked akin to a gatling gun, Garocks descended the ladder that connected the workshop to the hold below. The ramp leading outside was already down, as it is when Da Fortrezz is in camp so that boyz can come in and request their shootas fixed or whatever else they may need. Walking down the metal ramp Garocks made his way over to the ever growing hut of Kragots, intent to show off, and hopefully offload, his newest invention. Maybe if he was lucky, he could even get some teef for it... Walking through the leather flap that took the place of a door until a proper one could be scrounged up Garock was just in time to see an ork messanga' walk up to the War Boss.