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Small Book.pngThe following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.
Ork-Chan is a particularly heartwarming piece of Writefaggotry, which sparks copious amounts of D'awwwwww all across /tg/ whenever it is posted, as well as RAGE at Tau in general for killing her mother.

In short, it follows an adorable loli Ork schoolgirl named Ork-Chan who lives with her white-trash Imperial Guardsman father through a handful of short stories.

How she came into existence, none can truly fathom. Orks are universally genderless with traits humans would call masculine... thus making a feminine ork utterly impossible.

But people from here and the other wiki (Wikipedia, not ED, dipshits) will make anything up to jerk off to.

Chapter One[edit]

Children file out of the school's main doors,chattering happily now that another school day is over. You lean against the gate, watching them run out to the bus lines, laughing and playing as they go. Ah, to be young again.

"Daddy!" Ork-chan cries as she sees you, skipping down the concrete path where you greet her with a warm hug. "Hey sweetie, learn anything good today?" you ask, scruffing her hair playfully as you stand. "Yeh, I got a C on a pop kwiz fer Choppa Praktikal!" "That's my girl." you say, her beaming in happiness.

Ork-Chan's mother was killed in a WAAAAAAAGH! six years ago when her Warbike was shot by the Tau. Since then you have been raising Ork-Chan by yourself, working as a translator so you can work at home and be with her during the nights. Your house is small and she has to buy used weapons for school, but you are able to put Squig on the table and take her to the Trukk Races every month. Smiling back down to her, you take her hand. "Let's go home." "Kan we go out bak an' shoot fingz?" "Sure. I'll get my lasrifle." "YAY!"

Opening the doors to the rifle cabinet in your den, you pull out the Mars pattern Lasrifle, gently caressing the scoring on the barrel. Ork-Chan's mother did that when you first met, trying to stab you with her knife when you mounted a ridge after being separated from your unit. But it had not ended in death, something beautiful happened...

You look out the window and into the dust bowl of the backyard. Ork-Chan is still in her uniform, and is singing happily as she fills her shoota's empty magazines from a bullet box on the ground. She used all of them at school again today. You shake your head and smile. They grow up so fast.

Walking out the back in your fatigue pants, boots and a white singlet, Ork-Chan starts bouncing on her feet happily as you approach the makeshift sandbags. Opposite the 'bunker' are targets you let Ork-Chan draw with crayons, pathetic humans cowering in terror. "Okay. If you hit with most the bullets we can go and get cave fungus for dinner. Deal?" Ork-Chan clasped the gun to herself happily. "Kan I chooz da color?" "Only if you do well."

The targets only have a few holes in them after five clips, most of that ammo wasted on a cat running across the back fence halfway through. Embarrassed, Ork-Chan giggles and fidgets nervously. "Eyes on the prize, sweetie."

After dinner, you help her with her homework before telling Ork-Chan to go get dressed for bed. You take the dishes to the sink and wash them, stacking them in the cupboard once they are dry. From firing two hundred rounds with the shoota you counted twelve hits she had made on the targets. For an Ork that's pretty good. After bullseyeing three shots with the lasrifle you brought blue cave fungus with white growths for her, like you promised. Watching her happily gorge the food, it is hard not to imagine what it would have been like if her mother had been there too, to see how well she had grown up.

After the dishes, you walk down the hallway into her room to find her already tucked into bed, wearing her old white nightgown. She hasn't showered, but Orks don't really shower so it's alright. You are used to her smell now. Sitting on her bedside, you kiss her on the forehead. "Sleep tight, don't let the Gnasher squigs bite." you tell her like always, crossing to the door. As you are about to leave, she stops you. "Daddy... you fink mummy will kome home from da foightin' tomorra?" You pause, exhaling softly. You never had the heart to tell her what had happened. Maybe you could never fully deal with it yourself. "Maybe." you say, wishing you could believe it yourself. "If she doez, kan we all go ta da trukk races together?" Your heart is breaking, but you manage to smile back at her, your voice hoarse. "Sure. We can do that." Satisfied, she closes her red eyes. "Kay. Nite, daddy."

You switch off the light and walk back to the fridge, pulling out a beer and sitting at the table, opening it on the corner. It hurts so much to lie to her, but the truth would break her heart. And she is all you have left...

Tomorrow while she's at school, you'll go price cheap Warbikes. Her mother would like that.

Chapter Two[edit]

"... okay, so now the fanbelt goes on. Yeah, like that. Aaaaand we're done."

Looking up from the engine of your beat up old buggy Ork-Chan smiles, her red eyes vibrant with pride at having helped fix the rusting bucket. She has some grease on her shirt and in her long brindle hair, but you can get that out later. "Kan we go for a drive, daddy?" she asks as you pull the hood closed with a solid metal thud. "Sure thing sweetie. Go get your shoota and choppa." you tell her, flicking an errant strand of hair from her face. Happily she skips inside the house, humming an incoherent tune. Orkish music remains beyond your understanding.

Before long you are flooring it along the alkali flats outside town. Wind blasts your face as you approach over one hundred, but your electrogoggles protect your eyes and you can see every bump, cactus and rock for miles ahead.

Above the roar of the engine you can hear Ork-Chan giggling as she fires at the Razorjacks flying through the air from the gunner's seat in the back. Her school skirt flaps furiously in the wind, and she holds a green hand out one side of the vehicle, letting the air guide it in a waving motion before slamming another clip home and shooting at another animal, the beast crying out as it falls from the sky. "Did yer see dat? Did yer see, daddy?" she shouts excitedly as you shoot another with your stub gun before it gets too close. "Yeah! You're gettin' pretty good."

Elated, she stretches for a moment and enjoys the blurred scenery, taking in everything before you approach the mesa overlooking town. You both sit and have lunch from your overwatch before leaving the junker to go hunt squigs on foot, Ork-Chan grinning maliciously as she hefts the Choppa to rest on her shoulder.

Hunting squigs is good for both of you. You both enjoy it, and it is good for a growing Ork to kill small creatures. Working as a pair you corner the small red beasts in the shade of the rock spires, where they either fall to your stub gun or Ork-Chan cuts them in half. She's getting rather good, by the time twenty minutes have passed already four of them are on the back of the buggy, ready for roasting in the backyard later.

As you tie them to the back you give your electrogoggles to Ork-Chan, who happily runs to the mesa's edge and looks out across the town with them, her shoota by her side just in case there is something to shoot. Suddenly she jumps up excitedly. "Dere's a movin' trukk comin' into town, daddy! Look!" Walking to her you take the goggles and look at the road Ork-Chan is pointing to. "I see 'em, sweetie. Who are our new neighbors then?" you ask out loud, trying to catch a glimpse of the vehicle behind the-

Your blood runs cold. Smooth, rounded curves colored yellow and hovering above the road. Tau.

As your face turns scarlet with rage you turn back to the buggy. "Ork-chan, get in. We're not hunting Squig anymore." You never understood how, but she always knows when a fight's coming. Giggling excitedly, she bundles the shoota up and jumps into the gunner's seat as you put the hammer down, engine growling as rooster tails of small rocks and sand flick out behind the wheels before you descend the mesa, Ork-Chan cheering as you roar down the sand and onto the alkali flats in an angry cloud of dust.

The movers are pulling away as you bring the buggy to a stop screeching stop in front of a house across town. Though old, it is much nicer than the home you and Ork-Chan live in. Your rage doubles immediately. Looking around to Ork-Chan, you see her heft her school bag onto her back. "Ready, sweetie?" you ask, tucking the stub gun into your waistband as you step out onto the curb. She nods ecstatically, giving you a sly sharp-toothed grin.

As you turn to the house you see one of the occupants walk out to greet you, dressed in simple white robes. You step forward to meet him halfway as he speaks, each word sickening. "Welcome, neighbor. Thank you for coming to greet us here! My name is-" Before he can get another word in, you slam the butt of the stub gun into his face as hard as you can, blasting him in the head once he is on the ground. Ork-Chan runs after you, cheering as she jumps on his chest before joining you at the door. You nod to her as she pulls one of her Stikkbombs from her schoolbag, pulling the pin and throwing it through the glass of the window in the center of the door. Both of you take cover either side of the frame. "Knok knok!" Ork-Chan shouts in a songish voice before laughing as the wood explodes outwards. An alien scream comes from within as you both charge through the doorway, Ork-Chan shredding the interior of the house with shoota fire, blasting from the hip.

"Dat fing looks weerd..." "It does, doesn't it?" you reply, both of you staring at your new television from your couch. It is adorned with strange curves and is an odd brown color, but its owners didn't need it anymore. Why waste it?

Looking over at Ork-Chan, you are nonplussed when she is wearing a Tau helmet she took 'for a trophy'. In the top of the helmet is a large bullet hole with a small trickle of dried blood down the front where a Shoota round had punched through. "Take that off." you tell her, the helmet inclining downward before she pulls it off, holding it in both hands and staring at it. Her school uniform is flecked with blood and oil, but she is happy. You couldn't buy that anywhere, and wouldn't trade it away for any price. "You did real good today, Ork-Chan." you tell her, putting an arm around her and scruffing her hair again. She squeals with laughter before you let her go and stand up. "Enough TV. Let's go roast some squig." "Yay!" she shouts, cheering as she skips outside. As you go to get the meat, you smile. Her mother would be proud of her today, despite her breaking her Choppa off in one of them. Oh well. She'll probably make another one soon.

Chapter Three[edit]

The wind snakes through the tips of the jagged spires lazily, strangely tame for such an altitude. The Razorjacks have nested in shady hollows in an attempt to wait out the hottest stretch of the day, but still droop their heads slightly. This is better for you and your fellow weapon manufacturer. "Spanna." Ork-Chan orders, holding out her hand from underneath the kit missile. You hand her the shifting spanner and take one last look around for the instructions. As tame as it is, you had let the sheet get away from you two hours ago and it is probably halfway home by now. "You sure you know what you're doing?" you ask her, hearing an audible crunch. "Yeh, I kno wat I's doin." she says dully between breaths before swinging out from underneath the red and black shaft and admiring her work. The sun is sweltering at this time of day, and patches of sweat have soaked through her green shirt and the rag she has around her forehead. You aren't immune either, and your dirt-stained white singlet is little help. But sweating it out in the sun is completely worth it.

Before you stands a black and red missile with a leering face, pieced together from a kit you purchased at the store yesterday. According to the now blown away leaflet, it will fly two kilometers before exploding. A good morning's work with a solid payoff.

Earlier you set up a target down the ridge: a pile of scrap metal representing a tank of some sort. Retreating to the 'command center' (a barricade of stones and the missile's packaging), you give the launch button to Ork-Chan and give her the electrogoggles.

"Systems check." You announce, pulling your range-finder up to your eyes and looking the piece of ordinance up and down. "Da light on dis button is green, so everyfing is good ta go." she announces happily, licking her lips as she waits for the command. But as she is about to press it you notice that one of the fins is loose. "Hold on, hold on... the third fin is loose. Don't fire." you tell her, lowering the range-finder and looking down at her.

Ork-Chan looks at you through the electrogoggles for a second, then at the launch button. She is an Ork with a very short attention span and little grasp of consequences, who has just spent all morning building a massive rocket which will obliterate anything near where it detonates, and is holding the launch button.

There was no way she wasn't going to press it.

With an electronic beep of the pressed button the thruster engages, the roar deafening as it takes to the skies. Ork-Chan cheers as it streaks towards its target, until the loose fin snaps off. Swirling chaotically, it spirals away from the target and back towards town. Quickly you pull the range finder up long enough to see the top floor of the tavern explode in a gargantuan plume of fire and smoke.

Ork-Chan stares at the explosion in town in shock, the sound reaching you both two seconds later. Immediately she drops the control panel and looks at you. "Dis is bad..." "Yeah... REAL bad..." you answer, lowering the range-finder.

Silence for a long moment, filled by the air and echoes of the explosion. "LET'S GIT DA ZOG OUT OF ERE!" Ork-Chan screams, running for the buggy. You pick her up as you run, hoisting her into the gunner's seat and jumping in before flooring it away from the ridge.

About ten at night, both of you sneak a look out the window of your house. You have been hiding in the living room since, and haven't turned on any lights. "Yoo fink dey iz still lookin' fer us?" Ork-Chan asks timidly. "Not sure sweetie... let's wait till tomorrow to go outside."


The stars are twinkling brightly in the sky, a magnificent night to admire them if there ever was one. Having built a really big fire in the backyard because you both felt like it, you and Ork-Chan lay back and stare up at them, the warm blaze snapping and crackling as if perturbed at the quality of its fuel.

"Daddy?" Ork-Chan asks, resting her head on your stomach as she gazes up at the Heavens. "Yes, sweetie?" "Mommy'z foightin' sumwere at one of dem dere stars, right?" "... yeah. That big bright one." You point to the brightest star you can find, feeling lousy for having to lie like this. "Dat's real far away. She mite not be back for a wile..." she said, trailing off unhappily. "Yeah..." you manage to say, almost choking on bile as you do. Ork-Chan moves her head so that her glowing red eyes look at you upside-down. "You miss mommy?" she asks softly, feeling tired. "Every day." you tell her, patting her gently on the forehead. Before she can ask more questions you start humming a tune you learned back in basic training, a lifetime ago. Within minutes she is snoring, still dressed in her schoolgirl outfit.

You think about scooping her up and taking her indoors, but it's alright. Ork. Different physiology. She is comfortable sleeping wherever.

For a long time you watch her stomach rise and fall as she snores softly, before you cuddle into her and drift off to sleep too. Before you nod, you see a faint smile on her green lips. Everything's alright. She still feels loved.