Setting:Cloudburst/Oscar India Golf

System
Galactic Position	Cloudburst Sector, Uncategorized Region
System Overlord	N/A
Worlds in the system	Two binary planets, one barely habitable
World Type, Name	Orkhold World Gorkypark
Tropospheric Composition	Nitrogen 78%, Oxygen 20%, Argon 1%, Carbon Dioxide 0.5%, Methane/Ethane 0.5%
Religion	Gorkymork
Government type	Big Mek Oligocracy
Planetary Governor	No
Adept Presence	None
Climate	Gorkypark is a toxin zone that spans a world, with massive carbon storms and raging wildfires
Geography	Barren, rocky land that barely supports plant life. Algae flocs and blobs dominate the land, with Orkanisms living in the few large liquid bodies
Gravity	Gorkypark has 1.4 times Terran gravity by default, but its gravity is in constant flux
Day Length	546 Terran Hours
Economy	Teef
Principal Exports	Petrochemicals, Junk, Orks
Principal Imports	Teef, Junk, Orks
Countries and Continents	None to speak of, no volcanism nor tectonics
Military	Orks
Contact with other Systems	Routine contact with Orks passing through the system
Tithe Grade	N/A
Population	Unknown

DESCRIPTION

Gorkypark is an Orkhold, and one of few anywhere near Cloudburst. The planet hangs in the void between the Celeste and Rampart Subsectors. Were the founding of the Cloudburst Sector the result of a single, overwhelming Crusade, like the Sabbat Worlds Reclamation or the Angevin Crusade, there would likely be no such gaps in Imperial coverage, but as the worlds of Cloudburst were instead colonized piecemeal, Gorkypark was simply overlooked by the Imperium.

The planet is hopelessly, perhaps permanently contaminated by Orks. The entire ecosystem of the planet is now Orkyformed, with Orkoid spawning algae now growing in such profusion that the blooms are visible from space. However, the planet’s permanent Ork population is actually quite small, given that the algal blooms could easily generate far more Orks than they presently are. The cause of this lesser spawn rate is the world’s atmosphere, and the Orks can only blame themselves. The planet’s atmosphere is contaminated with chemicals that could choke a human comatose in under an hour, and what little oxygen recycling there is on the world is at constant risk of fires thanks to the Meks that run the world. If the atmosphere were more breathable, the algae would surely produce millions more Orks than it is, but for now, the spawn rate and die-off rate are match almost perfectly, to the Ordo Xenos’ acute relief.

On the rocky surface of Gorkypark, Orks fight, eat, and amuse themselves. The Orkysystem is entrenched enough that Squigs spawn regularly, and several tribes of nomadic Orks chase them around, harvesting them for meat and bones. Larger Squigs, like the Squiggoth and Leviasquig, sometimes spawn as well, providing temporary delight for the Ork hunters if they survive. The main industry of the world, however, is chemical refining. When Ordo Xenos investigators first responded to the sudden diversion of an Ork fleet in M41, they found the system in the path of the Ork ships. From a distance, the system looks relatively normal, save the binary planet in the Habitability Zone. The two worlds, Gorkypark and Morkypit, are a highly atypical binary, consisting of one large rocky world and a gas giant. The rocky world, Gorkypark, spins around the larger gas giant Morkypit in a stable orbit. The Ordo Xenos leaders of the Imperial fleet thought that the rocky planet was somehow siphoning atmosphere from its neighbor, but as they drew closer in stealthy chase of the Ork ships, they realized that the gasses flowing from the gas giant were condensing and forming stable liquids as they entered the atmosphere of the rocky world. Furthermore, the gasses were not moving with the gravity of the two worlds, but were actually moving against the pattern of gravitational attraction between them.

A covert shuttle landing with baffled engine exhaust revealed the cause of this bizarre phenomenon. At the heart of a massive Ork city on the rocky world, a huge metal object in the shape of an Ork tusk rose high over the ramshackle buildings. The tusk glowed with eldritch light as a coil of gas soared by overhead, and as it did so, the gas suddenly arced down to splash as a liquid into the surface of a nearby ocean. Instantly, another tooth, sticking from the ground some fifty miles outside the city, flared its own colorful light. The shuttle team listened in shock as Techpriests on the Ordo ship in orbit reported that an impossibly fast-moving coil of gas spooled off the giant and moved through space towards the rocky planet as soon as that happened. Back on their ship, the Ordo Xenos team poured over their findings, and came to one conclusion: the Orks of the world had managed to bring online a Graviton Compressor Array from the era of the Prime-Ork named the Beast. How it had wound up here, the Inquisition could not determine, but there was no mistaking one in action. Where the Beast had used his Compressors to destroy whole worlds, the Orks of this world were using to make money. The Ordo observed the Orks using their starport and their endless fuel supply to gas up the Ork ships, then use the resources they received in trade to manufacture all manner of xenotech, most of it befuddlingly indecipherable. The Ork fleet scattered over Cloudburst, Naxos, and Drumnos, but the Ordo Xenos ships remained stealthed at the edge of the system, beginning a centuries-spanning watch over the world below. Now, the system hosts a permanent Watch Point of the Deathwatch, who keep an eye on the Orks of Gorkypark, waiting for a chance to steal the Compressor.

On the surface of the world, Orks from visiting ships spend their teef and booty on various entertainments. The planet’s orbit is not clear enough to allow for much construction in near space, but it is stable enough for ships to stay in orbit for a while, and so the surface capital is a teeming morass of Orks. The chemical oceans emit noxious gasses that would knock a human cold, so there is no real chance of the world ever becoming a human colony, but the environment is bearable to Orks. The main city – if it has a name, no human knows it – sits on a high plateau in the southern hemisphere of the world. The Graviton Compressor looms over the city, glowing green, and casting light over the revelry below. The streets fill with greenskins around the clock. Pirates and Boyz lurch from pub to pub, drunk on grog, while nobs and Offizers carouse in squig-hunting ranches. The whole city rings with gunfire as Orks celebrate their inebriation and free time with hearty gun battles, while Mek creations stomp around the edges of the plateau, testing new Tek.

The lowlands are almost as festive, in the Orky way. The great oceans of chemicals don’t cover the whole surface of the world. On the shores and lowlands, Orks find a good time in the faire atmosphere of the smaller settlements. Meks with nothing better to do set up great pinwheel devices, festooned with chains and hooks. Orks can pay one toof to hitch their foot onto a hook, then be spun about by the turning machines for a few minutes. Elsewhere, Freebooterz who rarely get to enjoy the benefits of planetside life may spend their booty on fancy clothes and big hats, while Nobs bully herds of grots and snotlings into minefields for the entertainment of cheering crowds, who often place bets on the spectacle.

Thousands of Orks jostle and fight on the Mud Spot, where the natural Ork impulse to beat the living hell out of each other can be exercised without too many fatalities. For the more relaxation-inclined Ork, there are Twirly Fings on cliffsides, where Orks can pay teef to watch prisoners or squigs be flung to the oceans below as determined by the pattern of colored balls that fall out of giant plastic lottery machines run by Meks.

For the thrill-seeking Orks, there are always the Buggy Races, where dozens of Speed Freeks and other daredevils can line up their ramshackle machines and roar over the flats, competing for Mek upgrades and piles of gold and teef. The contests sometimes feature hidden pressure plates in the sand that trigger spike traps or catapults that send nearby hapless drivers careening into the stands or back to the start, to euphoric applause from the boyz. Even more dangerous are the expeditions. Enterprising Orks with a sense for helmsmanship will lead gangs of boyz out into the chemical seas to go Squiggin’. In this pastime, the Ork Kaptains will pack their steel boats with eager Orks and give each one a line and some bait. The Kaptains then steer the boats out into the chemical seas and kick back to watch. Each Ork competes with the others catch the biggest squigs, sometimes the size of Terran whales. The Kaptains of larger boats will usually buy a camera to send the images of their fishing passengers back to the city, where Orks can wager on which passenger will get the biggest squig or die first. It’s all part of the fun, after all, and cheating is just playing more kunnin’. Some Kaptains will surreptitiously drop concussion grenades into the chemicals to lure large predators near, just for the chance to watch giggling boyz get dragged into the chemical ocean and eaten while the others scramble for his pile of squigs.

Gorkypark isn’t all play, though. Outside the settlements, there are regions of the planet indistinguishable from a Forge World testing ground. Carefully-built metal gantries and catwalks span huge gorges carved by experimental weapons, bunkers and pillboxes peer out over killing grounds, and in places, electricity crackles and arcs through the air from Weirdtek. This is the center of Gorkypark industry, and the true prize of the Ordo Xenos. The planet is not run by a Nob or Boss, but by Big Meks, and the world’s entire future hinges on their being able to create new Tek faster than a Waaagh!-bound Mek could. In the testing grounds, Meks barter with visitors and each other for new junk and bitz, and immediately set to ‘improving’ it in their scattered workshops. Periodically, the Deathwatch Brothers watching from space will see a Mek emerge from their workshop, point some gizmo or flash at the ground nearby, and push a button. Sometimes, they immediately explode, sometimes the ground does something exotic, but most of the time, nothing happens at all, and the angry Mek will throw the machine away and trundle back into their shop to try something else. Other Meks will usually scramble to claim the machine and try it for themselves. These Meks also pick over good scrap brought in from visiting ships. The Freebooterz especially drag tons of loot to the planet for trade and testing, and the Meks are happy to oblige. Over glowing forges and casting troughs, Meks labor furiously to create ever more flash bitz of armor and weapons for their pirate patrons. In their free time, some Meks will collaborate to develop new gear for themselves or a visiting Warboss. When a ship arrives in orbit for fuel, the Meks in the city begin collecting the appropriate chemicals with suction hoses, then inject the fuel into huge tankers, which then fly up into space and deliver the fuel. The Meks collect teef from shuttles that bring it down to them.

However, the Meks are not servants to any one Waaagh! or chief. The Ordo Xenos has noted with interest that Gorkypark has actually turned their Compressors on ships that showed up to try to bully their residents into joining a Waaagh!. Exactly why the Meks are lethally obsessed with maintaining their neutrality is unclear. Perhaps they do not wish to be beholden to a single leader, or suspect that their work will be unappreciated by the single-minded warlike nature of a Warboss. There also seems to be no single commander among the Meks. The ones who create the items and weapons of the greatest value can lay claim to the main city for a brief while, before a rival challenges them. The challenges are usually displays of explosive potency or unique technology, but sometimes involve ‘accidental’ killings. However, for Orks, the planet is remarkably free of internecine warfare.

The planet does not have a centralized defense system, nor does it need one. Every Ork is a killer, and the Graviton Compressor Array is more than enough to dissuade any attacker. The Inquisition has learned from careful surveys that the planet could be rendered lifeless with a single cyclonic torpedo, as the chemical oceans would ignite if placed under sufficient pressure. However, that would be a criminal waste of a Graviton Compressor Array. No living being can make one, not even the Big Mek Orkimedes, and the Mechanicus would kill to have it.

The problem facing the Inquisition, however, is that of availability. The massive logistical requirements of invading an Orkhold daunt the Navy, and with Oglith’s own Ork problems and the imminent Glasian Migration, the sector has larger concerns than some technoarcane trinkets. For now, the Graviton Compressor Array sits tantalizingly out of reach.