The Orks melted down every last piece of metal, forging what they believed to be bigger and better heavy artillery, arming Gork's Yellow Thing to the teeth.
Lin Fan watched the Orks toil away with feverish enthusiasm, watched the Lorn aggregate gradually transform from something like a giant flesh maggot into a savage, badass steel train. A song about the strength of Ork workers lingered in his mind and refused to leave.
"We Orks are strong, Waaagh! We Orks are strong!"
Gork's Yellow Thing was armored layer by layer. Hundreds of heavy cannons were mounted along its sides, while its upper level had been built into a segmented fortress following the contours of its flesh. Inside was a large mob of Orks manning fortress guns and anti-air dakka cannons.
Rys served as Gork's Yellow Thing's control hub. The Lorn only listened to her, so Old Ironhead and the others had installed an entire communications system to tell the girl where to make the thing beneath their feet go.
Still, Lin Fan had doubts about whether these Orks knew what the priority targets were supposed to be.
This stitched-together monster, made of Haemonculi genetic technology, Imperial flesh and the power of faith, plus Ork armor technology, completed its final adjustments over the following days.
The Orks held a bonfire party around Gork's Thing, bringing out every drop of mushroom liquor they had brewed and hidden away. They even brought some booze for the human shrimpies.
Humans normally could never handle this stuff, but deeply mutated people like Three-Eyes had a high tolerance for Ork-brewed liquor and joined the festivities as well.
Everyone would be heading out tomorrow to fight and kill pointy-ears anyway, so why distinguish between greenskins and humans? Faced with the same great enemy, they came together like this.