It was around at this time that Chief Raigo, who had kept tabs on the razza the whole time by sending Zhennie over – he knew she would just leave her post to join the party eventually, but it was better to have eyes on it – saw his right hand orcan pull into the Chief’s personal garage as he was just tooling around on his heavy ranging ghash-bike, for he just knew something was going to go wrong at the razza – in a complete panic.

  Her pupils were wide as saucers, and she reeked of malt liquor and burnt blunts, and she seemed to have a broken tibia because she was limping, but it was stitching itself back together as she spoke, “Durban! Durban! The razza!”

  “What’s up? Zhen, what happened?”

  “Razza’s turned into a-”, she inhaled deeply, “WAAAAA-”

  “-ZHENNIE! Zhennie I get it.” He was so glad that Lawrah was tutoring Githarie in the Library with Zhak.

  Zhennie snitched because this was Tar O Dar for Lawrah now.

  “LAWRAH’S THERE!”

  What? WHAT! Nuk-nuk, FUCK!

  He threw himself over Nastya and jacked in the keys, “Lok! Zhen, Lok! Fucking- LEEROY, zug!” Even the Chief threw a bit more orcish around when he got stressed. Zhennie swooned and leapt up behind the Chief, sitting snugly on the spacious back butt rest of Nastya, before throwing her arms around his waist.

  He needed to get all the parents at the razza, pronto. But there wasn’t enough time! Older orcans, unlike the crazy skai hai kids who would stay up all rotation, loved to sleep excessively, and wouldn’t be easy to rouse. He needed backup.

  His mind immediately went to the War Master. There was no better candidate.

  Deep in the woods behind the temple, berserking Lawrah now had to rely on her capoeira, for her hands were bound.

  She bounced from one leg to another in a ginga, daring Vyerna to guess which way she was going to go.

  Vyerna nocked her bow in less than six seconds flat, right side, Comanche style, and let loose a shot, guessing correctly by syncopating against Lawrah’s ginga and correctly predicting which direction she would go next, which was- the other way.

  FWIP! “Ungh!” An arrow had sliced through Lawrah’s right shoulder.

  Lawrah rushed Vyerna.

  One. Two. Vyerna drew out another arrow from her quiver.

  Lawrah sprinted harder, tunnel visioning, the red of the berserker rage like blinders now.

  Three. Four. Ani nocked the arrow and drew it back.

  Lawrah dropped her bound hands now and was throwing her weight on it as she made felid leaps on the ground, staying low to minimize her profile, her hitbox.

  Five. Six. Cool Hand Ani Oakley let loose.

  THUNK! “GRR-”, the arrow had embedded itself into Lawrah’s other shoulder.

  But she had reached Vyerna, so she swept her leg back and launched an armada, her leg sweeping Vyerna’s bow away. Her calf slammed into Vyerna’s cheekbone, and the trailing path of the kick threw her into a spinning aerial cartwheel before crashing to the ground.

  “WA-AAA-AGH!”

  Lawrah lifted her leg up to stomp Vyerna. Her foot smashed down, but Vyerna rolled away just in time.

  Meanwhile way back down the way she had run away from Githarie, all the way back to where she did the zug-zug, Nook, and Keef had raged in retaliation to Zholl’s rage, while Tcha pulled out his latest gat- a revolver of orcan make, total original from a Behetan gunsmith, designed to take fifty-cal, the only round known to reliably stop a raging orcan in its tracks.

  “DO SHA FEEL LUCKY, PUNK?”, he screamed, both of his eardrums had been shattered – it was why he was screaming, he genuinely couldn’t hear himself – before slotting one in, kissing the barrel for luck, spinning the cylinder. Why didn’t he just load it to the upcoming chamber for a sure shot, well, he had a penchant for drama, and then- click. Click. BANG!

  But since Nook was stomping Zholl out at the time, and blocking the line of fire, and Tcha was being a glob, and fiddling with the gat too much, Tcha accidentally shot Nook right in the back of the head where his most critical brainstem was located, and that was that for Nook, no mogging back from that.

  Where the hole where his nose and mouth used to be was still smoking for Tcha had popped in an explosive round. Keef took a break from digging his knee into Zholl’s thoracics to gawk in horror at Tcha’s monstrously bumbling mistake, and that was all Zholl needed – he was biding his time, resisting the blows in controlled wagh and focusing on regeneration as much as he could – to nab Keef’s esophagus and throttle him.

  Keef tried to prise his fingers open, and with the advantage of two hands in a double wagh throwdown it would be assumed that Keef should have won, but Zholl had recently engaged in the practice of ‘wagh-edging’, in which he would try to hold back from orgasming as much as he could when jerking off, all the way until he got so frustrated that he actually went into berserker rage state, and then finally finishing. This practice meant that he was stroking his cock so furiously, and so frequently, that his grip strength – combined with the berserker rage’s gifting in these moments – became hideous. Plus, cumming on the wagh felt really, really good. So, try as he might, Keef was helpless to stop himself from being strangled to death by one hand- Zholl’s jerking off hand.

  Tcha had run away in embarrassment- he absolutely had to find a new crew whether they beat Zholl or not, because he had just accidentally shot his best friend in the back of the head, so he went for the lower risk strategy. Not to mention that if Tcha had known his other sidekick had just been- well, yeah.

  But Zholl had fractures all over his third to eighth vertebrae, and internal bleeding in his lower intestines, and that deep gouge in his arm from where he pulled the shank out. “Unf-” he struggled and crawled his way closer to the bonfire. He knew that Lawrah had run that way, and that-

  Zhak?

  And…

  Nakaz Gruker Plagmerk?

  Holding hands?

  Oh Gods! “Ah-hah-hah-haa!”, Zholl had to giggle and chortle even as blood poured out of his mouth from the internal bleeding in his intestines. He knew it! He knew it!

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Zhak is GAY!

  He struggled his way over, finally able to push himself up with one knee to his feet. The nakaz loverbois looked concerned, wonder what they were looking for?

  Zhak, who now no longer gave a fuck what his siblings saw if they got out of this skaiza WAAAGH, pulled Gruker along as he rushed towards the rekt Zholl, and barked,

  “Where the- the- the skai sha hai is GITHARIE, Zholl?” He tripped up, not sure whether he should swear. Things had gone well so far with Gruker, he didn’t want Gru to think he was some lout.

  Completely ignoring him, Zholl squealed, “HA! Zhak! Sha did da- BUTT-ZUG-ZUG with GRUKER here? SO PROUD OF SHA, MU NAKAZ BRU!” He coughed some blood. “High five, mubru.” He said ‘butt zug-zug’ way, way too loud and Zhak wanted to stomp his toes.

  But he didn’t. His words shot out rapid fire for even he had caved into Dey’s pushing, “Skai’s sake, Zholl, where is Githarie and Lawrah? I was tryna gimb them forever, had to ask so many stoned ass orcs who can’t even tell up from down, and a bunch said that some creepyboi got fresh with Githie- he got knocked the fuck out, don’t worry- and then some other orcans said that Githie and Lawrah got into a big fight right around here at this ghash, then Lawrah ran into the woods! We can’t say for sure what kinda skai is gonna happen in the dark places with this shitshow of a wagh, agh-”, he paused. He was scared. All this nuk-nuk was exactly why Zhak hated these kinds of things. Skai this glob razza!

  It was only then that he realized how badly Zholl was hurt, “-and how did sha get that shiner? Skaiza hell that looks like it stings. Are sha OK, Zholl?”

  “Hai! Shoulda seen what happened to the other guy.”

  Finally, the parents pulled up to the former razza, now WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

  They had practically emptied the cornucopia of ghash automotives – all terrain vehicles, dirt bikes, pickup trucks, and of course, sport utility vehicles – to all get here. To Raigo’s surprise, absolutely none of the Rotheran parents were asleep because each and every single one of them had the sense from observing their children’s nuk-nuk naughty muttshit that they were going to do something gezzno as a hai at the glob razza. ‘The glob razza’ was what the parents had taken to call this WAGH. Moron festival. Because that’s exactly what it was.

  The San Martín kids either didn’t have parents, parents who didn’t care about them, or had toxic parents who encouraged them to rek as many Rotheran kids as possible. Either way, none of them were aware of how messy the razza had gotten, they did not have a nakaz Zhennie runner to inform them.

  So, the Rotherans adults were going to thrak durb to this wagh.

  Raigo bellowed, “FAN OUT!”

  And the parents split out in pairs – couples mostly, ward rearing polycules some – the game plan was simply for the parents to go hunt down their own specific orc brats, bring them back to the woodorcan’s clearing next to the temple nook where the bonfire was, and then rek them, potentially with assistance from other parents. It really was the best space outside of the razza to manage logistics and gather the party.

  Zahul pulled the gearstick to shift the sports utility Zhennie had set him and Gnosta up with – it could fit the whole family, if they found them – into park.

  He was not in his beekee seaorcan wear, he was dressed neatly in his old Horde marine fatigues. He needed all the cargo pockets because he had brought his relic Automatic Kalashnikov. With the real wood grip, stock, and handguard. It was classic gof ghash for any orcan. Wearing his old uniform made him nervous, and he began to think about that damned elvan soldier that he curb stomped forty revolutions ago again. He hated that soldier so much, but he would just never leave his thoughts, never permanently. Just when Zahul thought he was done with it, it could be three revs, four- the same dream would come back and haunt him again.

  Orcan, please-

  You animal.

  Gnosta, still with the chopsticks in the bun, had thought she would never have to open that cursed nuk-nuk box ever again. But reassembling her old friend Dragunov took the same three point eight seconds as ever, she didn’t even bother to time it, she just knew. The stock was covered in notches.

  “I am gonna rekdar the Zeds. I am going to make them regret ever leaving the Defiant. They are going to clean the head for ten revs. For the rest of their nakaz gezzno lives!”

  “Yes, Zaza, you deal with the Zeds, I am going to rekdar Githarie and Zhakkathan. We’re a team in this right? Can we regroup?”

  Zahul rattled it off like a battle prayer he carried in his heart wherever he went,

  “Zedbois are out of the Lions or I smash their faces in-” Zahul cursed the whole WAGH for forcing him to give up his son extortion income, “Githie and Zhak - grounded forever.”

  “Forever.” It was not Gnosta who decreed this punishment, she said it for it was what they agreed upon.

  “Forever!” Zahul had said it first, and she agreed wholeheartedly in fact, and so he exclaimed it in a way that emphasized- how right am I? Right? Right? Grounded forever. No leaving the Defiant until sha disown sha own family, sha gezzno snagas. Sha die an old orcan before you go to another razza.

  “Leeroy?”

  Gnosta racked the bolt for a loaded shot, ready to put one between the eyes of the next Lion or Lioness she saw for getting GITHARIE and ZHAKKATHAN into this. If that happened to be Zholl, Zhon, or even that shady nomad zug they always hang out with- Deyandra? Then- well, she’ll consider it.

  “Leeroy.”

  They stepped out of the SUV and shut the doors behind them.

  A BMW R1150GS that he paid a very dear 2.303984219299 Bits for. He could get to any village on Orca with the beast of a thing, and at one point he was pretty sure he loved ‘Nastya’, his name for the bike, just a little bit more than Lawrah, in the early stage of the transition. It didn’t matter that its range was useless in Rothera and he had to pay a pretty penny to ferry it to the mainland for a proper ride.

  If there was one orcan that Zhennie Zhing would go het for, it was her boss, Chief Raigo. Plus, she was drunk. Inebriation often made sexuality just a little bit more fluid.

  Like one Githarie Thraxes.

  Nowhere near as cool as when Dirty Harry said it. It’s hard to be cool when screaming.

  You just shot Marvin in the face!

  Githarie, Zhon and Zhak wondered why he was always taking so damn long in the kroozer’s few bathrooms- the nice one was reserved for Gnosta and Zahul, and the two nuk-nuk ones were for the kids.

  This has seriously disturbing implications.

  While it was totally okay for a lot of Godlike cultures for androus platonic friends to hold hands, orcan culture found it ‘gay’. Again, it is sad that homophobia persisted in what should be an accepting culture. At the same time, the homophobia came down to microaggression, and when it came down to it, orcans didn’t care that much about what other orcans had sex with, because they were too busy trying to have sex themselves.

  Swearing just once made it a lot easier for Zhak.

  Zholl, still waghing a little bit, looked like he was going to interrupt and demand where the fuck the snaga rapey orcboi was, which was why Zhak quickly added later that- yeah, the orcboi got knocked the fuck out.

  One of Zhak’s greatest talents was gathering information very quickly. One detail he intentionally declined to add was that it wasn’t just a wagh, but a WAAA- you get it.

  Which was literally nothing. Tcha remained unscathed, having run off like a snaga.

  The adults who did not have children in Rothera, if they were not sleeping, gathered at the tavern, clinked tankards, and cheered ‘And that’s why we don’t have kids!’

  Model 74 but always mistaken for Model 47.

  Her SVD took the very rare 7.62 x 54 mmR, and while she knew someone who said she knew someone who had a cousin who could get her the hookup for a gunsmith who made perfect replicas, if she were ever to travel all the way to Vostok that is, she actually much rather never fire the thing again at all.

  In the end, he could not even enforce this order, so chaotic did the chain of events started by the razza come to be.

  Nuclear option!