In charge of a whole Ork planet, Zett knew just how nasty and troublesome the Painboyz and Big Meks could be.
They'd make a tin can, chop off an Ork's limbs, and stuff him inside—an Ork-in-a-can.
Or stick a Grot inside. Their planes and missiles had no navigation systems—just a Snotling inside, whose job was to ride the torpedo straight at enemy flyers.
Treating the wounded was weird too—just cut off wherever it hurts and bolt on a machine part.
Orks have no real science—their inventions defy all logic.
Like assembling a laser gun from junk. To Zett, it's just trash, less functional than a child's toy. But in Ork hands, it fires a real laser cannon—powerful, too. If Zett tries to use it, it's just a pile of junk, completely useless.
He could manage Orks but didn't want to live with an Ork scientist. That meant never being safe, having to watch out for your leg being sawed off at night, or getting stuffed in some weird contraption.
"I get your concerns. But you're the only Reionics here, and you have the Battlenizer, so only you can control this Big Mek," Rhodes said.
No ordinary means can control Orks, as Zett knew. So, he had no choice—it was his burden to bear.
"Master, I can watch him, but can we give him his own lab?
I have a moon under my command, about the size of Earth's moon.
Build him a space station there, give him some Orks—if he needs materials, just send me a list," Zett suggested.
On a moon, he could do whatever he wanted—just don't bother Zett.
"That's fine, master. I heard Orks can build a powerful stellar weapon, bigger than your space fortress, called the Attack Moon," said Mefilas.
After spending time with Orks, he'd learned a bit—Orks, once grown from spores, gain science knowledge and the ability to build sci-fi weapons by hand.
With enough numbers and resources, as the tribe grows and WAAAGH! energy increases,
they awaken more advanced weapon knowledge, like inherited memory.
Big Meks can make weapons humanity can't—planet-sized at largest, at least as big as the moon.
They'll hollow out a planet, load it with Ork junk machines, and then use WAAAGH! energy to pilot it through space, fighting everywhere.
In the Orks' golden age, the Beast War recorded in Imperial archives, Orks used Attack Moons—stellar weapons.
These weapons caused the Imperium unimaginable damage—almost forcing Holy Terra to surrender.
Since Rhodes planned to fight the Tyranids, building one of these would be devastatingly effective.
"Attack Moon is possible, but gathering the resources won't be easy. It's not just about hollowing out a moon. Even the mightiest Ork Warboss in Octarius can't build one now," Rhodes said.
There hasn't been one since the Beast War—just records from that era. Even the future flagship of Ghazghkull Thraka isn't Attack Moon.
"No, master—technically it's possible. All Ork high-tech weapon knowledge is stored in their genes. With Yapool power, we can awaken this knowledge.
Gromm is a good example—after becoming a Warboss, he gained lots of knowledge and battle experience, despite being only one year old," said Tartarus.
With a glance, he could show a super lifeform millennia of future events—awakening genetic info is easy for him, and WAAAGH! energy is further boosted after super-beast upgrades.
"That works. Tartarus, bring Yapool here, let's start the experiment," Rhodes said.
Tartarus nodded, opened a golden portal, vanished, and soon returned with the Yapool and his giant super-beast machine.
After explaining, Yapool said he had enough energy for many upgrades; he'd only modified Bjorn lately due to lack of orders.
"Master, what materials should I use to modify this special Ork?" Yapool asked.
"Just make him stronger and smarter, and make sure the Battlenizer can control him. Focus on brainpower," Rhodes said.
A scientist—so if his brain can be upgraded, even better.
Yapool looked at Mefilas.
"Why are you looking at me?" Mefilas felt a bad premonition.
"Everyone knows Mefilas brains are among the best in the universe. If master wants a smarter Ork, some Mephilasian brain is ideal," Yapool chuckled.
With IQs of 10,000, their brains are top-tier—even compared to the Blue Ultra of the Land of Light.
Yapool had secretly studied Ork genes—they're bugged. If fused with Mefilas brain, they'd make a powerful super-beast.
"Mefilas flesh is fine—I can heal with system functions, just costs some system points. But brain? No way," Rhodes shook his head.
Sacrificing his best advisor's brain for a Big Mek super-beast? No thanks.
"I can spare some flesh, but forget about my brain, Yapool!" Mefilas said.
"I was kidding. Just need some Mephilasian blood. Not as good as brain, but better than nothing," Yapool replied.
"Just provide a blood sample. Yapool, use your gear to clone some flesh. Tartarus will speed up time for you," Rhodes said.
Yapool bowed and left with Mefilas and Tartarus.
…
About an hour later, Gromm brought in an old Ork Big Mek, about 2.5 meters tall, clad in crimson armor with multiple mechanical limbs.
"Great Warboss, where are you taking me? Is this your secret base? Doesn't look like Ork stuff," the Big Mek frowned, seeing the sleek, luxurious ship.
Ork ships are made from asteroids and junk, with no structure—every Ork ship, dreadnought, and shoota is unique.
A streamlined, lavish ship like this isn't Orky—Orks would just tear it down and make a junk ship out of it.
"Don't ask so much. I'll give you greater power—just remember that," Gromm said.
Soon, they entered Rhodes's fortress—guarded by Ork warriors outside, but inside was a human—tall, imposing, in crimson powered armor.
"Why is there a human here? A stinking shrimp?"
"Watch your mouth. The man before you is your future master—and my current master," Gromm growled, tossing the Big Mek before Rhodes.
"No! Orks will never be slaves! Our kind will never bow to anyone!" the Big Mek roared.
He even glared at Gromm. Orks are the happiest, freest race—they do what they want, fight who they want, WAAAGH! wherever they want!
So, Orks are always free, never bowing to anyone but Gork and Mork, the true gods.
He thought this Warboss came to save Octarius, to vie for Big Boss, and lead the Orks to greater glory—a grand WAAAGH!
But he'd joined a human, calling him master?!
No one in the galaxy can enslave Orks.
"I'm not asking your opinion! The weak bow to the strong. If not for the master saving us, Octarius would be overrun by Tyranids. How long could you lot last?" Gromm retorted.
"Orks will never be slaves! Is your next line 'unless you cover food and lodging'?" Rhodes grinned, recalling a meme from before his transmigration.
"Unless you cover food and lodging! And fighting! If we don't fight every day, Orks get itchy!" the Big Mek replied.
"Actually, I have lots of Big Meks like you. But your crown that can disrupt and control Tyranids interests me. I recognize your talent, so I'll grant you an honor—
I'll give you greater power, turn you into a fifty-meter giant, boost your brain, and give you thousands—tens of thousands—of years of life," Rhodes declared.
"Not interested! Why live so long? As long as there's fighting, and strong foes, dying the next second is fine!" the Big Mek snorted.
Most races would pause at that, but only Orks would refuse outright.