Old Ironhead silently adjusted the glasses on his nose. His eyesight had gotten a little worse from drawing blueprints and pondering hull structures every day, but that did nothing to dampen his enthusiasm for thinking.
He lifted a stone cup and took a sip of the greenskin juice inside. Aside from weapons and ammunition, all their metal resources were now being poured into their engineering miracle.
"Cough, cough, cough! Meeting's startin'! This is, uh, the next meeting after the last meeting. We're here to talk about namin' this treasure and what weapons to fit it with."
"Last time, we settled how to cover it in armor. Nobody had any complaints. This time, put yer heads together and speak up!"
Once Old Ironhead finished speaking, the Mekboys in the meeting room began thinking about how to give their beloved treasure a name that was both cool and Waaagh!
"How about Steel Dragon?"
"Old-fashioned!"
"The Big Mek's Long Mek?"
"Vulgar!"
"Doom Devourer?"
"Don't sound Waaagh! enough!"
The Orks fell silent. They racked their brains, yet no matter how hard they thought, they could not come up with a better, more Waaagh! name. Without a good name, their beloved treasure would be insulted.
"By the way, do more of you lot believe in Gork or Mork?" Lin Fan raised his hand. Beside him, Khan stood with his arms folded, saying nothing.
"I believe in Mork! Gork's a weak git!"
"What the zog are you talkin' about, ya runt?"
Realizing that question might ignite a religious war among the Orks, Lin Fan quickly had Khan keep the room under control.
Khan did not even need to roar. He merely swept his eyes over the few Big Meks preparing to argue. They had seen that look long ago, when they had been raided, and every