Discovery Gaming Community - The Rhinomedary Squad

Hidden deep within an asteroid, a fleet of rusty ships in various state of disrepair were torn apart. Their components were recycled and put to new use. When all of the derelict ships were removed, a group of new ships took their place. They weren't rusty or broken down, but they had the scars of many battles, and several parts had been replaced. They all had red skulls painted on their sides. The only ships that could be seen were Rhinos and Dromedaries. Two seemingly harmless civilian freighters. As the freighters touched down in their new base, and their cockpits opened, horrible figures emerged.

While they had once been human, now they were grotesque abominations. They towered at seven feet tall, and their bodies had developed so much muscle that they slouched like gorillas. Their skin was a deep green, and their numerous scars were white. Metal armor clung to them, most of it made from starship hull debris. Their beady black eyes scanned the area, looking for useful materials. The largest of these creatures muscled his way towards the asteroid base's control center. He was especially ferocious. He bellowed orders at his comrades.

"Wot's dis? Yew lot are all jus' standin' around like sods'a clay! Get yer arses movin', dere's not enough loot fer everybody!"

That motivated his crew to move. They began to search the area, looking for anything that they could use as a weapon, or weld to their armor or their ship. The leader of these creatures crossed the floor of the asteroid's hangar, and located a gray door. With one kick, he smashed through the metal and forced his way inside. It was dark, and he drew a flare from his belt and lit it. The room was illuminated by a gloomy red light. He saw an insignia on the far wall, 'NTF'. He didn't know or care who they had been; they weren't here now and this base belonged to him. His huge mouth warped into a bestial grin as he looked back and saw his flotilla hard at work at converting the place into a livable base.

The leader sat in one of the chairs in the room, but it was crushed under his weight. He dropped to the ground with an angry grunt. He had just gotten to his feet when one of his cronies came in.

"Warboss Zogba," he began, "Dere's been a lot of shootin' 'ere. Whoever built 'dis place got shot up by 'dem Liberty Naver humies." Zogba grunted. He picked some grit out of his eye. "'Dis ain't gonna be our home base. 'Dis is just an outpost. We's gonna find a better place."

The crony nodded and backed out. Zogba looked around him, and the all-too-familiar rage built up in him as he recalled just how he got to this point.

Omega 41, Near the Neutron Star

A Corsair prisoner transport flew just outside the reach Neutron Star's radiation surge at low impulse. Several containers were being fired from the ship towards the star. In each container was hundreds of captured Outcasts. The Corsairs had been unable to ransom them back to their brethren, so they were disposing of them in as dramatic a fashion possible. The containers drifted closer to the star, until one of the star's radiation surge sent them flying. Inside, the Outcasts were bound to all of the surfaces by magnetic restraints. All of them were already in excruciating pain from Cardamine withdrawal. As another wave of radiation passed through them, the magnetic restraints failed. Hundreds of agonized Outcasts were suddenly at the mercy of gravity.

A third radiation wave, stronger than the previous two, picked up all of the containers and threw them into the surrounding asteroids. One by one they smashed into a space rock and were either destroyed or crippled. The Outcasts, however, weren't dying. Air was being let out, but they weren't feeling the effects. When all of the air was gone, they gaped at each other in dumb shock. This was a mistake. Silent screams filled the air as their eyes burst and blood filled the inside of the containers.

For several months these containers floated through space. Inside, the Outcasts suffered in undying agony. They had begun to change physically as they resorted to frantic cannibalism. The largest and strongest Outcasts got stronger and more grotesque as they consumed their smaller brethren. They couldn't see it, but their bodies were morphing and becoming larger and more muscular. Their skin was losing its tan pigment and becoming darker. Their figure was atrophied from the lack of gravity and their upper bodies got most of the development.

After about six months of existing like this, the containers were picked up by a Zoner trade ship. They found the wretched Outcasts and set about reviving them. It took several weeks of intensive care, but the Outcasts gradually returned to normal. They got cybernetic eyes, ears and their skin went back to its normal color. The hundred survivors were returned to Omicron Alpha, where they lived for a while without problems.

A year after their return, the survivors began to revert. They were crippled with pain as their legs and arms grew longer and muscle put itself together over the new limbs. Their jaws jutted out in front of their faces and their canine teeth grew rapidly, forming tusks of sorts.

They were exiled after their violent urges returned as well. They went into beserk frenzies and killed everybody around them. They were taken away by some mercenaries that had been contracted for this task. They were headed towards the sun, where they would be thrown into the corona. Instead, the creatures overpowered their guards and took control of the ships. They made their escape before the Outcasts could mobilize pursuit ships.

The ships they had taken were Dromedaries. These weren't built for combat, but that didn't matter right now. They fled through the Taus, using the mercenary identification codes to get them past the IMG patrols. The creatures gathered in a small sphere of space devoid of asteroids to talk about their plans.

"Look 'ere," said Zogba, "We don't know wot's 'appening, but we'z don't need 'dem Outcasts. We'z makes our own fortunes!"

There was a cry of support. The Outcasts were confused and afraid, and Zogba was a strong leader. They flocked to him. He led them to an IMG mining outpost. The four Dromedaries were intercepted by an IMG fighter patrol. Before they could hail Zogba's gang, the Dromedaries opened fire. The surprised IMG fighters scattered. Though they had superior mobility, the Dromedaries were just quick and powerful enough to destroy them. Zogba roared a powerful war cry as they set upon the mining ship that was trying to escape. The four freighters pulled it apart and tractored in enough scrap metal to maintain them for a long time, and then made their escape as IMG reinforcements began to arrive.

They worked their way back through the Taus, into the Houses. They wandered into Magellan and found a backwater jump hole into a system known as Kansas. It was a paradise for the beleaguered creatures. There was enough scrap metal here to set them up for years. Dozens of damaged Dromedaries that showed signs of battle were scattered through the system. They also located a derelict space station, but ignored it. It was far older than the wrecked ships.

After a few days in the system, a crude junkyard had been set up. Close to a hundred transports and freighters had been brought to one location. They all showed signs of bomber attack. There were even Liberty and Bretonia military hulks but they were far too damaged to recover.

Zogba presided over the salvage operation with a mean glare. He was smart enough to know that setting up a permanent base here was a bad idea. The Liberty military had a history here, and he wanted to operate his gang in secrecy for now. They would loot all they could from this junkyard, and establish a temporary outpost so they could have a place to sleep. He was forging a bloodthirsty cult, and he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way.

A month of salvaging in Kansas had let Zogba build up a small flotilla. About a dozen freighters could be recovered, a mix of Dromedaries and Rhinos. The rest were dismantled and used for repairs or to make armor for his people.

He had finally decided on a name for his little gang, which he thought was very clever. They were the Rhinomedary Squadron. And they were Orks. His people didn't really seem to object. They were Orks- beasts. And they had laughed at his name for his squad. He rolled his eyes when he realized they were only laughing because they didn't understand. He seemed to be the only one who hadn't gone totally stupid, save for a few of his lieutenants.

There was a lot of work to be done, but he had finished drafting a list of rules for his Orks- he had to maintain some kind of order.

DA ROOLZ:
WUN: Don't steal from yer brotha'. Dere's gonna be enough loot and bitz soon.
TEW: Don't kill yer brotha'. We needz all da boyz we can get.
T'REE: Only fly da' Rhinos and da' Dromedaries. Dey are da best shipz fer us.
FUR: Obey ALL dese roolz, but break all of the House roolz. Dat means if ya wan' ta' go naked in Man'att'n, feel free!