Happy LootWAAAGH

There may be a new version of this at some point, but since it hasn't shown up yet...

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Blue loved working on ork machinery, unlike all the tau tech she was forced to muck about with when she was just a yoof. With the tau, everything had a place and there was place for everything. All the machinery they exposed her too was exactly the same and if anything was out of the ordinary, it was removed and destroyed. But not with orks. Here, she was allowed to unleash her imagination and let the WAAAGH guide her. Wires go here and here, and maybe over there, throw some gubbins on the outside, always ut the sparky bitz next to the spinny bitz except for when you don’t feel like it, and don’t forget to throw on some toggledy pieces for good measure. Despite this, today’s events had left her confused and put her in a funk that not even the usually uplifting task of fixing up trukks could shake her of. She furrowed her brow and kicked the damaged vehicle in frustration. She shivered in the snow as her breath hung in the air and the smell of pine stung her nasal slit.

The Scraplootas had been hired again by that strange eldar git Vaedrisa to smash a bunch of humans on some icy planet for some reason or another; the specifics didn’t really matter to Blue much. What did matter was that it meant that there was going to be a scrap. And not just any scrap, either. Today, they were supposed to have a sneaky scrap! Kaptin Urtylug had said that they were getting too predictable, that if they just kept dropping Boris on top of everyone that people would start to catch on. Instead, it was up to Tinka Zizzbitz, First Mate and Big Mek of the Scraplootas, to lead a small task force ahead of the crew and build a teleporter big enough to teleport a titan through. It was all going well enough at first, the team had touched planet-side without detection, they took out any Imperial Guard patrols without raising an alarm, and they even managed to find a clearing in the massive arctic forest they landed in to start on construction. Tinka himself had just put the finishing touches on the teleporting platform of the Big Zoggin’ Borisporta when it happened: Space Marines! They dropped in from the sky like stormboys, laying waste to the unsuspecting orks below! Now, the Scraplootas were no strangers to space marines of all varieties, but usually the element of surprise was on their side. And endless waves of grots to drown them in. And a looted chaos titan. That titan usually made a bit of a difference, it did. Being down one titan and having two, maybe three, waves of grots with them at best, Tinka called the order to fall back.

Blue slumped against the battered trukk, letting her mind wander and absentmindedly scratching Mr. Squig’s head (much to his delight). The grots and mekboys where hard at work fixing up the various vehicles that carried their equipment and the orks as the few remaining kommandos stood guard around the perimeter. The knot of doubt that had plagued her ever since they ran away from the space marines still roiled in her stomach when her reverie was shattered by a gruff voice.

“Oiy! What’s with dis muckin about den?”

Blue snapped to attention and looked up at Big Mek Zizzbitz. ”Oh hey boss. I was just thinkin’…”

“Thinkin’’?! You’s can do dat once we’s done fixin’ up dese trukks. We’s right lucky we made it awat from dem space marines, ya know.” The Big Mek’s eyes glossed over in the orkish equivalent of reflection “I s’pose we’s got you ta thank fer dat.”

“That’s just the thing!” Blue objected. She took a deep breath and sighed before continuing. “We’re orks right?”

“Well, we certainly ain’t eldar.” Tinka replied

“And orks is made for fightin’ and winnin’, right?” That knot in her stomach tightened.

“You goin’ anywheres with dis?”

Blue ignored her misgivings and shouted “Well, did why the zog did we run away?!”

Tinka laughed heartily at Blue’s outcry before noticing her dejected look. With a grunt of exertion, he kneeled down on one knee and patted the other in invitation. He began as Blue clambered up.

“Now Blue, lissen up and lissen well, cuz I ain’t got time to say dis twice. What we’s did wasn’t runnin’ away, we was leggin’ it.”

Leggin’ it? This bothered the little mekgrot. She should know these kinds of things already if she was an ork. Sometimes it felt like the rest of the tribe was keeping secrets from her, but she knew it was just because she was still getting the hang of being an ork, even if she had always been one without realizing it.

“So what’s the difference between the two then?” She queried, determined to rectify her unorky ignorance to the concept of “leggin’ it”

”See, runnin’ away is what twiggy little cowards like humies an’ eldar do when they’s tryin’ to get out of a fight, but leggin’ it is a right cunnin’ strategy orks use when bringin’ a fight to dem. It’s simple logics, see?”

“But why leg it at all when the fight was already there?”

“If we had fought when those space marine boys jumped us, it woulda been over afore we’s knew it. By leggin’ it, not only does an ork get ta determine if a fight is worth ‘is time, but ‘e gets ta draw it out into a nice an’ long scrap dat’s worth ‘is time, see?”

Blue scratched her chin in thought for a moment and then gave a single nod of affirmation. ”Yup! I think I gots it, anyways.” Before Tinka could react, Blue quickly wrapped her arms around her Big Mek as best she could in a stealth hug. “Thanks boss, you’re the best!”

”Zog it, Blue, we’s got work ta do! Dese trukks ain’t gonna repair themselves an’ we still gotta build da otha half of dat Borisporta when we move out.”

Blue let out a huff as she clambered down from her perch. “I wish we could just build the zoggin’ thing now and slap the two halves together when we get there.” No sooner than her hooves had touched the snow and she was being hauled up and slung about jubilantly by Tinka.

“Zog me, Blue! Dat’s brilliant! Just slap da two halves togetha! Dat’s exactly what we’ll do! I’s gotta get ta work right away to finish dis in time... gonna need some real flash bits to get this ta work right...” Blue had been unceremoniously plopped back down in the snow as Tinka hobbled off as fast as his peg leg would take him to make preparations for the construction of the second half of the Big Zoggin’ Borisporta. Blue looked down at her pet squig and smiled as she crawled under the trukk. “Well Mr. Squig, it looks like we got some work ahead of us!” It was a good thing too, Blue had some ideas on how to make the trukks and battlewagons go faster in this snowy landscape...

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”Well?! What were those foul greenskins building here?!” The space marine sergeant barked at the techmarine inspecting the orkish construct. Assault Marines stood ever vigilant against the orkish menace as Imperial Guardsmen complemented their numbers.

“With orks, it’s impossible to say...” The techmarine responded, still investigating the mystery in front of him. ”It could be some new sort of weapon, it could be some sort of altar to their heathen gods, or it could be nothing at all. Orks are frustratingly unpredictable; especially those of this blasted Karib Sector.”

“It seems to have nothing attached to it and no identifying markings, save that odd emblem in the center... could it be possibly be some tribute to the ruinous powers?” The sergeant mused.

“Wait one warp-damned minute...” A guardsmen interrupted. “I think I've seen that mark before... Maybe on a voxcast?” The guardsmen leaned in to get a closer look at the emblem, a rough etching of the head of an Imperator-Class Titan with a wrench and scrap metal forming an ‘X’ behind it in the fashion of a Jolly Roger. “Dammit, why can’t I remember where I’ve seen that emblem?”

Suddenly, the realization hit the hapless guardsman like one hundred Baneblades.

“By the Throne! We need to destroy this damned thing right away!”

“Not until we learn what it does and why those orks came here, guardsman.” The marine sergeant replied. “Long have orks been a blight upon this sector and until we find out why they are so prolific in the Karib, they will continue to be so. You have my permission to shiver in fear away from our work.”

“No, you don’t understand!” The guardsman stood his ground “This is the emblem of-”

Just then, the assembly was interrupted by a cacophonous hooting of various orkish war cries, from “’Ere we go, ‘ere we go, ‘ere we go!”, to “ORKS ORKS ORKS ORKS!”, as well as the tried and true “WAAAGH!” all of which was punctuated by one particularly swarthy voice amplified by voxcaster, shouting “A Scraploota pays fer nuthin!”. The orks had welded all of their trukks and battlewagons together to form a massive transport platform as the mekboys continued the final stages of construction of the second half of the Big Zoggin’ Borisporta. Wherever the platform wasn’t held together by scrap metal, it was fastened in place by hapless grots, not to mention all the vehicles had their tires replaced by skis to increase speed. Space marine and Imperial Guardsmen alike could only gawp with awe at the abomination of circuitry and steel barreling toward them

“-the Scraplootas.” The guardsman finished with dismay.

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Warboss Urtylug Titanloota sat proudly in his Boss Tower atop Boris as he watched the combined forces of guardsmen and space marine scattered by the might of his orkish titan from his viewscreen. He took a moment to drink in the carnage before him (as well as a sip of his drink) before regarding his First Mate standing next to him.

“Mighty fine work of ye, Zizzbitz. Gonna make da lootin of dat city all da tastier, dis ambush will.” He finally said, enjoying the taste of freshly ground squig-coffee as well as the taste of victory.

The Big Mek nodded at his Warboss. “Weren’t nuthin, boss. I ‘ad luck on me side” He threw a wink to the blue grot who was too absorbed in the massive battle below to listen to the exchange. He surprised Blue with a clap on her back as he pointed towards a mass of fleeing guardsman.

“Now THAT, Blue, is runnin’ away.”

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“I just don’t understand it.” Zielt moaned as the craftworld observed the butchery their orkish mercenaries were dealing the humans below. “Where did that even come from?”

“Battlesleds...” Farseer Vaedrisa muttered, chewing “Battlesleds and teleporters...” She smiled briefly as she rose from her seat. “You sound almost disappointed that our unlikely allies have won out against all odds yet again, Zielt. This ‘Blue’ specimen surprises me yet again. It is an... unfamiliar feeling. Regardless, the human city will soon be rubble and the Craftworld buried beneath – and its soulstones – will be ours. The means by which we accomplish this matters not.” With an exaggerated flourish of her cloak, she began to leave the war room. She paused for just the briefest moment to add “Besides, I think we can all agree that these Scraplootas should prove most interesting to observe over the next few centuries.” and leaving without giving Zielt the chance to talk back to her, much to the Warlock's frustration.