Reddunz Hit 'Arder (40k)

As we meandered out of the barracks area Gorblitz led me to the next few locations, the first being on the outskirts of the camp. It was a secluded eery shack with strange iconography that I've never seen before. I could've even swore I saw the odd arc of electrical energy emanating from the hut. "That'z where da Weirdboy lives, steer clear of 'em if you like your 'ead where it iz." Glorbitz's explanation did little to satiate my curiosity, what the hell was a weirdboy? "Uhh Glorbitz whatz a weirdboy?" I attempted at asking but only received a none-committal grunt in response. Either he didn't know either or didn't care enough to respond to my question, shrugging we continued on our path of campsite enlightenment. 

The larger Ork led me back towards the centre of camp directly towards where I'd seen a few Orks haphazardly slap a few pieces of metal before whacking it on the back of what looked like a bike. As I got closer they were still at their strange antics. It was a chaotic workshop filled with half-built contraptions, piles of scrap, and the constant sound of hammering and welding. At the centre of it all was a particularly large ork standing around eight feet tall, it was almost as large as the 'Boss' that had sat as the lord of these Orks in the arena. 

Stranger more- was that this Ork seemed to be half a cybernetic mish-mash of technology that looked like it belonged in a junkyard and half monster. There was no real finesse to it or any sleekness, it was quite reminiscent of something straight out of the steampunk genre, if instead of steam it was oil and scrap. It was a wonder the creature was at all moving, while I didn't have much inclination towards tech or engineering, there was no possible way that the scrap heap was at all functional. For example the beasts right arm was entirely cybernetic, a complex assembly of pistons, gears, and metal plates. The hand looked like a messed up swiss army knife, capable of wielding various implements such as a wrench, a saw and a welding torch. Yet none of it was attached to a power source of any kind. It all just kind of stuck into the Orks body with reckless abandon. 

My conclusions of Orks just being bullshit and devoid of any rationality was becoming more and more likely. Was this that shitty 'God's' plan? To wow me with such inane bullshit that I'd become a devout believer? It was a poor plan and one that I would not fall for. After all there had to be a meaningful explanation for all of this. As I was caught in my own musings Gorblitz spoke up. "Dis 'ere is da Mek's Workshop. Dis is where youz will repair your bitz and where youz will get your fighty bitz." Gorblitz continued directly towards the workshop and I followed closely behind. 

As I came closer I came to see these 'Fighty Bitz' that Gorblitz was talking about, they just seemed like scraps of junk thrown together. There were a few firearms there too which surprised me but they didn't exactly look like they were going to work very well. In fact they looked like they were just as likely to shoot back into me as they did look like they would shoot forwards. It was essentially a metal pipe, a handgrip and a trigger all 'welded' into a package of death and scrap. There did seem to be a magazine slotted onto the pipe too, but it was welded on and wouldn't be able to be taken off the weapon. 

So these Orks while primitive looking seemed to have a basic grasp on firearms and even cybernetics, it was exceedingly surprising. How in the world did they manage to come up with this level of equipment, some of it even surpassed that of my old world in terms of technology level alone. We hadn't managed to create cybernetic limbs that acted like an actual limb yet, and here these dumb brutes had managed it, in an albeit primitive way which was even more surprising. 

Now that I was closer the eight foot tall Ork had several more 'augmentations', his left eye was replaced with a strange glowing red implant that darted from left to right taking in the entire workshop. Both of its legs were also reinforced with what seemed to be a hydraulic system, giving the Ork a sort of exoskeleton that was bolted into its flesh haphazardly. As I was engrossed in what I saw I felt a distinct THUMP on the back of my skull, Gorblitz had smacked me. "Don't stare, he might krump ye'." thoroughly warned I averted my gaze from the strange Ork and back to the pile of weapons.

After a few moments Gorblitz walked up to one of the several Orks also hammering away at the scrap metal. "Oi, one of me ladz needsa' shoota and a choppa'." One of the Orks nodded before stopping and looking up at Gorblitz. They extended a hand towards my squad lead seemingly expecting payment. With a nod Gorblitz walked back over to me, I gave a confused look as I had no money to give. For the second time today Gorblitz struck me directly in my face, I felt a sharp pain as a few of my teeth broke from my gums and jaw. 

As my head and ears rang Gorblitz simply plucked the broken teeth that now lay strewn across the floor. With the teeth now in hand he gave them to the mechanic Ork who in turn passed over one of the shoddy pipe guns along with a particularly large knife. Still reeling in surprise and mild pain I stared at the exchange. Gorblitz seemed confused for a moment too before he spoke up "Teef is what you buy gubbinz with. They'll grow back. They alwayz do." Shaking my head in slight disbelief at this, it gave me a few ideas. Was this one of the reasons the Ork's fought so much? They were quite literally gambling with their money by fighting each other. If the teeth grew back as Gorblitz said then wouldn't this actually make a pretty stable economy? The more Orks the more 'money' that was flowing through the local tribe. There could never be too much over inflation as teeth would only grow so fast, but it also meant that wealth would sit neatly in the hands of the more powerful. Damn... This is actually kind of smart for the brutes. 

With my new weapons in hand I gave them a good look over, much like the rest the pistol like weapon was made out of scrap. I had honest reservations to whether or not this thing would work, would I need to get another one once I ran out of ammunition? There was no way to take out the magazine or any way to put new bullets into the weapon. With a sigh we were off again, heading towards another particularly large tent with an open front. 

The tent had a red cross painted on the front of it signifying its presence as a place of medicine. It definitely did not give the vibe of something clean or a place where you'd want to have surgery. It was dirty, squalled and quite cramped. As we drew closer there was a familiar Ork laid across a table, its head half stitched back on. With a closer look it was the Ork that I had decapitated not too long ago in the arena. Why were they stitching it back together? Did the Orks have some superstition about being whole after death, was there an Ork religion of sorts? An afterlife? With a few more stitches the head was once more attached to the oversized body.

What happened next truly shook me to my core, the body started to twitch and move as the previously glossy eyes filled once more with meaning and self-awareness. Did that Ork just get revived by having its head stitched back on? WHAT?! JUST HOW HARD WAS IT TO KILL AN ORK?! Gorblitz gave a grunt of approval before speaking "Gud, he'z a biggun', he'z gunna grow big one day." The fuck? 

Ok, this was starting to get absurd. I knew the Ork's were strange and almost defied nature itself but this was a blatant insult to the way the world worked. What kind of insane biology did these creatures have if they could cheat death so easily. This is just getting to be too much.