Whatever Happened to Da Blue Grot?

------------------------------------------TAKING A NAP-------------------------------------------


Skald idly picked his nose out in boredom. The other boys back in Krumpus Bay always warned him that the Scraplootas were odd gits, but he paid them no mind. He heard too many stories of the fights they got up to and all the loot they looted and that was more than enough to convince him to sign on with them when they made port in Krumpus, looking for any boys who would dare answer the call for adventure. Sure, they were definitely weird and sometimes came off as not so orky, what with all their grots just mucking about and all those sneaky kommando gits, but they always knew where the fighting was. Not to mention that big titan nob Boris and all the krumping he did. But today was different. There was no krumping or looting at all to be done on this planet. Instead, it was just a bunch of the older boys doing the most unorky thing he could think of: being quiet. And it wasn’t the kind of quiet like when they were waiting in ambush either, it was more like the kind of quiet when someone’s tied a bunch of raw meat to you and locked you in a cage full of sleeping squigs. Skald didn’t get it one bit, why did the boss even bring them here if there wasn’t any fighting or looting to be done? He approached another ork that was milling about the same as him, hoping to get to the bottom of this.

“Oy! What’s all dis muckin’ about fer, den?!” But despite his best efforts and intentions, all his shouting only got Skald smacked upside the head by the older, bigger ork followed by words of anger hissed at him in a menacing whisper. “Shaddap ya git! It’s like ya want da boss ta krump ya good!”

“All’s I'm askin’ is what da big idea is, havin’ us footslog it all this way when dere isn’t even a fight ta be had.” Skald whispered back, rubbing his head angrily.

“Da Big Mek is checkin up on her, ya git.”

“Her? What da zog is you on about now?”

“‘E’s talkin’ ‘bout da blue grot.” A baleful voice grumbled from behind them. Skald jumped and spun around to find himself face to chest with a hulking brute of a kommando. He didn’t look angry at Skald, though, just tired. Even his large mohawk seemed to sag wearily, as if it took more effort to stay upright than the nob cared to exert.

“Blue grot?! You is muckin about!”

The mohawked kommando sighed as the other ork jumped back in the conversation. “Blue was just dat: a blue grot. She was an ork, but she wasn’t at da same time.” He shrugged at Skald’s look of confusion. “Ya learned ta just go wiff it.”

“Den where is she now if she’s so orky?” Skald countered.

“Fer da longest time, she was just anuvva part o da krew, krumpin wiff da best of dem and fixin gubbins like no otha mekboy has been able ta do since.”

“Dats why she was da Big Mek’s favorite.” the nob cut in before allowing the ork to continue.

“But one day, she stopped bein’ quite so orky. She stopped growin’ when she krumped gits, and she even started getting weaker and punier! She started muckin’ about more den she was fixin’ gubbins and krumpin’ gits and one day, she got so weak dat she fell and couldn’t back up, so…” the ork trailed off, lost in thought to days long past.

“So da Big Mek picked ‘er up an put her in her hammock ta rest fer a bit, hopein dat it would help.” the nob picked up where the ork left off. “It didn’t. After a few days of bein’ so weak she couldn’t even get up and sleepin most days away, she just went ta sleep forever. Can you’s imagine ‘ow horrible dat musta been fer her? Ta not even be able ta fight?”

“So, some blue git what is an ork but isn’t an ork stops growin’ big an’ ‘ard and den sleeps ferever?” Skald tried to sort it out in his head before he stated with finality “She don’t sound too orky ta me. ” Skald didn’t even have time to be oroud of his deductive skills before a big meaty hand wrapped around his throat and brought him face to face with the kommando nob, those formerly tired eyes now alive with a rage Skald didn’t think possible, and he even had his favorite burna stolen once!

“She was da orkiest grot dat eva lived, ya hear me?!” the nob’s voice came through quiet, but powerful. “Orkier dan Gork AND Mork!” Right as Skald thought he was going to die from this enraged kommando’s throttling, the nob simply dropped him to the ground and wandered off, finding some other place to sit about.

“None of dat has anyfing ta do wiff why we’s here, though.” Skald said while gently massaging his throat.

“Dis is where she’s sleepin’ ya stupid git.” the other ork finally snapped out of his reverie. “Dis is where we found her, so da boss figgered dis is da best place fer her ta sleep comfortably. We’s stop by every now an’ den ta check up on her an’ make sure no one is botherin her.”

Skald wasn’t quite sure he understood it all, so he just shrugged and went back to picking his nose with the new resolution to not ask any more questions.

--------------------------------------------

Up on a gentle green hillside, Big Mek Tinka Zizzbitz trudged forth. His steps grew more deliberate and the box in his hands grew heavier as he approached his destination: a single rokkit launcher sticking out of the ground, a spiked helmet with goggles and a small spanner designed for more delicate hands than that of an ork hanging loosely off of it. Tinka slowly ambled up to the marker and stood there awkwardly.

“Uhhh, hey dere Blue. Still sleepin’?” Tinka took a deep breath and waited half-expectantly before continuing. “I thought so… Well, I’s brought ya sumfin anyways! It’s da best bits I’s could get my hands on! I even made sure none of da otha mekboys touched em afore I got ta dem! Not dat it woulda mattered, seein as you was da only one who could eva get dose tau bits ta work proppa – I still think o’ you’s wheneva I cut a git wiff my Zizzomatick Chainkutlass! They’s still jump an’ wiggle when it bites into dem!” He laughed for a bit before pausing awkwardly again. “I’ll…I’ll just put it next ta all da otha bits…You’s got a lot a dem now, doncha know! So you’s betta quit muckin about an’ wake up soon, cuz you’s got a lotta work ta do!” Tinka’s bionic eye itched. The same one Blue had fixed for him in mere minutes on that day, so long ago…

“Please wake up soon, Blue, da whole tribe misses you. Snekkit may not come ta talk to ya like I do, but that’s just cuz ‘e’s still sore about ya goin’ ta sleep wiffout warnin’ him like dat.” Tinka put on an enthusiastic smile, as if he was trying to convince someone with his words. “Once ya wake up it’ll all be sorted out right proppa! Even Derknitt misses ya, Blue. ‘E don’t have anyone ta match his wit an’ kunnin’ wiff now dat you left – between you an’ me, ‘e’s gotten a lil lazy, so you’s could probably really krump good a few times afore ‘e even knows what hit ‘em!” The short lived smile faded from his face. “In fact, you’s could say da whole tribe ‘as gotten lazy. We ‘aven’t gotten into as much trouble since ya started sleepin’. Those tau gits legged it once dey stopped seein you on da battlefield and even da ’umies don’t seem so interested in a fight, an’ dose beakies love ta fight almost as much as an ork! I guess dat’s all dat we’s been up to, Blue. I still miss ya, though. You was da best grot a Big Mek could eva ask fer.”

Tinka sat there in silence, waiting for anything to happen.

“I’s don’t fink she’s wakin’ up dis time.” Warboss Urtylug said, placing a hand on his old friend’s shoulder as gingerly as an ork can muster. Tinka sighed.

“Yeah…Yeah, I’s guess not.” Tinka kneeled down and patted the earth beneath the marker rokkit. “Sleep well, Blue, fer as long as it takes.”

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Deep in the Immaterium, in some far corner where not even the most powerful god dares tread was the two fearsome orkish brother deities, Gork and Mork, locked in their enternal roughhousing. Mork had thought he had Gork krumped good this time, holding him in a particularly painful headlock when Gork had suddenly slipped his way loose and tripped Mork over his own feet. Mork quickly recovered to find Gork already on top of him and eager to grapple once more, the slightest gleam of blue shining brightly in his bloodshot eyes.








---------------------------------------BIG BLUE-----------------------------------------


Skald was in a bind. He had joined up with the Scraplootas just a few days and they had already stuck him in on the front line on his very first mission. While normally this isn’t a problem for an ork, the Scraplootas weren’t your typical orks. They didn’t have numbers or much armor to their name, just sneaking about and their titan Boris. Skald had been assigned to the kommanod squads that were supposed to infiltrate the humie base ahead of time to disable the anti-air guns and secure a landing zone for Boris. However, the humans saw them coming. So now the Scraplootas, who relied solely on the element of surprise and their titan, had neither. They put up a valiant effort, with the few grots they had brought with them milling about in some sense of order trying to either disrupt enemy lines or avoid lasgun fire (it was hard to tell which) and kommandos blasting anything and everything they could, but it still wasn’t enough to break through to those anti-air guns they needed to bring down.

Skald was feeling the desperation of their situation first hand. His squad had been torn to shreds and only he was left, trying to hide in a back alley he had found so that he didn’t meet the same fate as his former squadmates. To make matters worse, his burna was malfunctioning, giving a pathetic whine where once there had been the roar of fire and death. To make worse matters even worse, the guardsmen who had been tailing him had finally caught up to him. Skald decided it would take nothing short of a miracle from Gork himself to save him now and prepared to charge the humies for all he was worth. If he had to die here, he planned on going out like a proper ork. At least, that was his plan until a shadow looming over the alley had stopped all parties in their tracks. Instead of a miracle, Skald found himself cast in the ominous silhouette of a tau battlesuit. And not just any battlesuit, but one of the ones only their warbosses used. Not only were the Scraplootas going to lose to a bunch of puny humies, but now they would suffer humiliation at the hands of the tau and Skald couldn’t even warn the others of what was happening!

Of course, if Skald wasn’t panicking and actually paid attention, he might have noticed that the entire battlesuit was painted blue with scrap metal crudely welded on in various locations. It had even been given an orky helmet mounted on top of its chassis, adorned with a spike to complete the ensemble. Skald did notice the banner sporting the Scraploota insigna waving proudly from the battlesuit’s back, but that was only after it had leapt into the air with a WAAAGH and landed directly on top of the guardsmen, chopping and blasting those it didn’t immediately crush underfoot. Skald was so flabbergasted that he didn’t even know how to respond when the swarm of drones came to back up the battlesuit, gun drones providing covering fire and shield drones protecting the battlesuit from incoming fire, all of which seemed to be led by a squig riding one of the drones. He was so paralyzed by shock that he didn’t even object when one of the drones took Skald’s burna out of his hands with its servo arms and, after giving it a quick once over, handed it back, good as new. Shortly after that, the guardsmen lines broke and the kommandos had disabled the anti-air guns, granting Boris his entrance. Once Boris made his appearance, the battle did not last long.

In the aftermath of the fight, all of the Scraplootas were doing what they did best: lootin scrap. All except Skald. He wandered aimlessly through the Imperial ruins as his thoughts did the same in his head. Did that really happen? Was that tau real? Why did it save him? Did he imagine the whole thing? Just when he was about to write the whole thing off, he saw it again! The tau battlesuit! As fortune would have it, the suit’s hatch was just opening as Skald caught sight of it. With a loud hiss the chest of the suit folded down and revealed it’s a pilot – a tau!

Well, half of one, at least. A mass of cables and tubes were connected to the mature tau woman, leaving only her arms and torso free to grab the mugs of squig beer to drink or guns to fix that her entourage of drones presented her with, ausing only to affectionately scratch the head of the squig the hovered vigilantly beside her.

“Oiy!” Skald shouted at the nearest ork. “Since when does we fight wiff tau?”

“Tau? We aint fight wiff no tau.” The mohawked nob replied.

“Den what da zog is dat?!” Skald pointed an accusatory finger at the

“What da zog is dat? ‘What da zog is dat’ he says!” the nob laughed

“Dat’s Da Blue Nob, ya git!”





---------------------------------SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST---------------------------------


Vaedrisa took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, massaging it in between her thumb and forefinger to ease her frustration. She was never going to get rid that damnable blueberry, was she?

“How long has it been now?” the Farseer muttered to no one in particular.

“Too long.” Her warlock, Zielt muttered back.

“How is this even possible?” she wondered aloud

“How is anything possible with that lot?” he sighed

“Perhaps it is related to the taint of the Warp due to her constant exposure to that daemon core…”

“I thought tau were resistant to the Warp”

“Or maybe it could have something to do with that WAAAGH field they had set up around the daemon core…”

“Or maybe it has something to do with you poking into the unfortunate child’s brain every few years.” Zielt quipped.

“Whatever that thing is, it can no longer be called just a child.” Much less unfortunate, Vaedrisa thought enviously to herself.

Before a full argument could break out the same as it always did, an eldar ranger entered the craftworld’s bridge.

“Ah, Xilloc, there you are.” Vaedrisa greeted him warmly, “I very much look forward to your status report.”

Xilloc shifted uncomfortably. “Well…”

“Well what? Out with it, already.” Vaedrisa had begun to lean forward in her chair, no doubt hoping for good news. Zielt almost envied her eternal optimism in times like this.

Xilloc took a deep breath. “No change.”

The Farseer paused for a few moments too long. “…What?”

“After three hundred and twelve years of the first observation of the tau child in the car, should one be able to call it such a thing, of the orks known as ‘Blue’, there is no major observable change. If anything, she appears to be getting younger.”

“Younger?!” Vaedrisa nearly lost her composure.

“Well, younger is not quite the right word for it.” Xilloc hastily corrected himself “It is more that she seems to be getting faster, tougher, and generally more youthful in demeanor as she, err, ‘ages’, if such a word is applicable to her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was stronger too, much like other orks.”

“‘Other’ orks?” Vaedrisa cocked an eyebrow at the ranger, who could only remain speechless at his slip. “Anyways, you are absolutely sure of this information, Xilloc?”

“I would wager my soul on it.” Xilloc said with resolve and the slightest hint of pride.

“Very well then...” A smile slowly crept across the Farseer’s face as an idea rooted itself in her brain. “It seems we have no choice but to continue to follow the Scraplootas until we get to the bottom of this.”

“You cannot be serious!” Zielt objected.

“And why not?” Vaedrisa countered. “We are clearly dealing with something here that is quite possibly a phenomenon unique to the entire galaxy. Our mission has just become much more than following a slightly deviant band of orks and using them to our ends.”

Zielt groaned audibly. That damned blue child would outlive the whole crafteworld over, he was sure of it.

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Blue raced down the halls of the Loot-havva. If she could hurry, she could make a few last minute bets before all the stalls closed down. There was going to be a race on the next planet they set down on, between leader biker nobs Rakktrakka and some young upstart named Skald. Even better, it was going to be DURING the fight. Blue had just spent all day tuning up Rakktrakka’s bike, so she knew that this Skald git wasn’t going to stand a chance against a former Green Mile race champion. Once the nob won, Blue would be sitting pretty on more teef than she knew what to do with AND she would get to watch a race while she fought! It was a truly great day to be an ork. Blue laughed to herself and sang the song that all orks know as she prepared for war, entertainment, and profit.

“‘Ere we go, ‘ere we go, ‘ere we go…”