Get it Fixed
The Dreadnought was broken again. It needed fixing quick, the humans would be back, with heavier weapons than laspistols next time.
“Get it fixed,” Grak snarled.
“An’ that’s the wrong spanner…” The plasma gun mount Was damaged.
Mechaniak Mokrog sighed. He put down the huge spanner and adjusted his cap, rooted in his kit and found the lucky red screwdriver.
“Thas’it.” He muttered.
“Cup o greased gravy sir?” Squeaked Snik.
“Get outta here grot, this is Orky work!” shouted Grak, kicking the Gretchin full force with his boot. Chewing his squigar, he wondered if the armour needed another coat of red paint.
