Strait Shootaz
"If ya ain't makin' teef den why you'z krumpin dat git?"
The Wanderin' Waaagh, a Kroosade fer Teef
Most waaaghs are simple affairs once you get past the logistics and the chaos. Orks like fighting, and they like looting, so waaaghs supply those two desires. But what happens if you get a warboss of such incredible charisma that he can keep Orks on target, on time, and under budget?
You get Kaptan Blu Toof. Granted 'on target, on time, and under budget' is a rather loose affair for Orks but getting them to pull away from a fight when they aren't making a profit is an impressive feet in and of itself.
Blu Toof wanders the edge of the Imperium, preying on the Tau and fighting with the Chimera legion. Thanks to the efforts of a rogue trader he's learned the importance of picking your battles to maximize profit and his personal Space Hulk. His 'territory' for the moment consists of six or so sectors that Chaos, the Tau, and of course the Imperium are fighting for control of. Orks were a part of the conquest but after serious losses on and above Hyacinthum Hortus the local ork population dropped significantly.
While it is entirely within his means to spark a second Waaagh and possibly gain control of one or more sectors Blu Toof doesn't see the profit in it, instead he engages in Merk Werk and raids Tau supply lines for dat flash blue boy dakka! For the moment at least dem 'umies simply isn't worth da foight and dem spikey boys is too kunnin to chase down with any dependability.
So Blu Toof and his boys wander the kosmos in search of teef and a proppa fight in a neverending Waaagh for Teef - Heaven help the imperium when they run out of blue gits to krump.
Ork Klan Kreation Tables Results
What Kind of Clan Are We? Freebooterz
What's Our Color? Blue
Whats our legendary Ork? A Ded Kunnin Kommando.
What did we do? We Krumped A Whole Lot Of Chaos Boys.
Who Do We Worship? We Don't Have Time For That Drokk. Or We Don't Know, Either Works.
How Big Are We? Of Average Size.
Who Are We Friends With? Orks.
Who Are We Enemies With? Tyranids.
Who Are Our Special Boys? Shoota Boys.
What Did We Loot? Tau Crisis Suits
What Happened To The Loot? Lost It In A Fight.
Organization
Blu Toof has assimilated a few different minor klans into his own, and pointed them at the Tau. Here's a few groups of note:
Shoota Boyz: The standard boyz have been beefed up a bit by their looted Tau gear. Blu Toof trains them extensively, until they can march, drill, and form firing lines with an actual degree of discipline. They might not get a lot of Tau gear each, but a dakka-line full of boyz who actually hit what they aim at ain't nothin to scoff at.
Longarmz: Da Longarmz are the closest equivalent to a Kommando in the Strait Shootas. They loot enormous railguns from Tau Hammerheads and Broadsides, make them suitably Orky, and lug them into the jungle. They are renowned for their ability to sneak through enemy territory with such massive weapons, although they usually are only capable of a single shot before the massive blue beam of energy gives away their position.]
Explaining a high-priority target to a Longarm is virtually impossible, but they can be counted on to shoot at the biggest git with the best kit. To an Ork, that's clearly the one in charge.
(Yes, Ork Snipers are finally a thing.)
Kamikazeez Where most Stormboyz are well trained and disciplined, Kamikazeez are wild and chaotic. They reject most Tau tech and cyborgization, wear nothing but garishly painted shorts, and adorn themselves with long, matted squiglocks.
The one concession to Tau loot is their universal embracing of Tau drones as transportation. Once properly modified, the drones can literally be surfed into battle, or attached to an ork's back in more of a traditional jumppack fashion. Skilled Kamikazeez can switch between the two setups in midair, and a sport of tricks performed with the drone has sprung up. In true ork fashion, a failed trick resulting in the ork smashing to the ground is celebrated even more wildly than a skilled success.
It's possible that the unnatural focus on dakka and shootiness in the Strait Shootas has put huge psychological pressures on the choppy Stormboyz, leading them to lash out and rebel as Kamikazeez.
Huntaz The Huntaz are Magruum Blakkrokka's kommando kadre, unlike the much of the rest of the klan they are traditional Kommandos in every sense of the word; though perhaps not many kommandos sport tyranid armor plating and acid gland augmented stikkbombs. Huntaz live for the stelfy foit, engaging enemies in close quarters or eliminating large groups of foes with explosives. In particular they excel at using looted 'nid body parts for weaponry and armor as well as tau technologies like stealth fields and the ever present oddity of squig-drones apparently unique to the Strait Shootaz. Choppas, Bombs, and the occasional pulse weapon are how the Huntazs get things done.
Chromeboyz Tinboyz are an old manifestation of Orky oddishness. Simple automatrons often made in the image of the races they fight, they were usually made as some strange form of mockery and would engage in simple, often menial tasks. Chromeboyz vary in that their creator cannot be arsed to make something resembling a fleshy git, and that they're usually sporting discarded flesh taken from dead orks, or bits removed from boyz getting superior augmetics. (or what passes for such among orks.) As such its not that unusual to see an orkish arm attached to a scrapmetal torso which is precariously balanced on an enormous iron ball that uses a crudely modified camera for a head or something equally haphazard. Chromeboyz however, are universally useful as disposable ambushes and a form of passive defense. Many a would be ambusher or combatant has tried taking cover behind what seems to be a pile of metallic garbage only to have the junk assume orkoid form and krump 'em.
Squiggadrones Something perhaps unique to the Strait Shootaz is their embrace of anything that aids in hitting a target, to this end they have carefully cultivated a breed of targetting squigs that soon found themselves integrated with markerlight drones. Partially via waauugh field and partially via augmetics these little monsters serve as an excellent recon, spotting, and accuracy tool.
Da Fleet
Da Toof Chasa Kaptan Blu Toof's flaghship, a rather small space hulk made of ork, imperial, and tau vessels. Though being a space hulk it still has roughly the mass of a city. A Hammer Battlecruiser serves as the core and fore of the vessel, a vanguard cruiser has, thanks to the warp, become wedged inside the Hammer battle cruiser and now serves as the main drive portion of the vessel. Two onslaught attack vessels just from underneath the hammer like forward facing tusks, they serve as a combination weapons platform and boarding tool. Between the 'teeth' a (much modified) Ryza Class nova cannon rests. five Claymore class cruisers have found themselves wedged into the mass of the space hulk in various places and since found their armaments relocated around the vessel to create an impressive broadside of macrocannons. Finally One Lar'shi cruiser and 4 Kir'shasvre (Castellan) Heavy Escort have since found themselves salvaged to create a surprisingly versatile dorsal and belly array of railcannons and ion batteries.
Da Choppa
Da Choppa is Blu Toof's original vessel, and was painstakingly removed and restored after being mashed into the mass of Rokk and ship that is the Strait Shoota'z flagship. Frankly the vessel does a better job as an escort and interceptor rather than a source of spare parts for an orkish flagship. Da Choppa started life as the flagship for Shas'o Tyros and his attempts to bring the light of the greater good to the imperial fringe. This was brought to a disastrous halt first by Hive Fleet Manticore and later by Blu Toof crudely slamming a rokk into his ship, slaughtering most of the crew and enslaving the survivors. It has since served as an absolute terror to the Tau shipping ways and is made all the more dangerous for its orkish 'upgrades.' While it is true that the vessel has lost some functionality in its ion and railcannon batteries it makes up for this in the ramming mechanism made from one of its broken wings; which can detach. Indeed more than a few ships have found themselves sheared in half by a ' 'atchet toss manueva.'
Speshul Tactics
'Nid Shells Via intent or luck a Tervigon has found itself entombed in Da Toof Chasa, incapable of escaping its tiny cell it sends Termagants out to acquire sustenance. This has lead to the local Orks believing they have Tyranid 'Pets.' In truth the vessel simply has an infestation of termagants. This has lead to an uneasy truce between Grots and the Tau and Human slaves the Orks keep. They form fortified conclaves in the space hulk and live on edge while boys, especially the Huntas, treat it as sport and look forward to a 'proppa foight' with their ship's erstwhile guests. As a consequence the ship and her crew make use of extremely unusual weapons. Hive Fleet Manticore favors bioplasma weapons and has a self destruct adaptation designed to deal with CQC specialists causing bioplasma armed forms to explode in a cloud of organic shrapnel and superheated plasma. As such the Huntaz have become skilled at capturing these creatures and forcing them into specially prepared shells fired at enemy vessels. More often than not the shells get shot down by defences or succumb to poor craftsmanship leading to an underwhelming explosion of steel and plasma. However sometimes the shells work as intended, penetrating the enemy's hull and creating a seal before bursting open to disgorge a cargo of furious termagants intent on burning everything they encounter to death.
'Nid 'Nades Its also fairly common for the boyz to extract acid glands from 'nid battle forms and crudely tape them to stikkbombs. However sometimes the huntaz will manage to install a termagant inside a specially designed extractor which will 'milk' the creature of bio plasma which is then contained inside a crudely made bomb which will be unleashed on the enemy in due time.
Chromeshellz
Chromeboyz are garbage, literally. They're opportunistically made from whatever castoffs Dokta Krush and his assistants have on hand. They usually have simple purposes; hauling loot, shooting gits, cleaning tools and so on. Occasionally however they're crudely stuffed into shells and fired at the enemy. Sometimes they even manage a boarding action.
write faggotry
A Kunnin' Rendevous "So why izzit," Blu Toof said, "Dat you won't join me Waaagh?" Giblitz, Chief Diplomat of the Grotocracy, carefully studied the Warboss while he thought of a suitable response. From head to toe, Blu Toof was a classic Freeboota Kaptin; bedecked in teeth and loot with a fancy hat, and the twang of a Freeboota accent that crept into every Kaptin eventually. But it was an act. Blu Toof played the part well, and certainly enjoyed doing it, but underneath the veneer of swashbuckelry was a mind known far and wide for bein ded cunnin. According to the orks they'd talked to, he was the wiliest ork in the sector. "When he stops talkin," they said, "dat's when he gets REAL cunnin. Dat's when hez THINKIN." This last word was always spoken in awe. Which... was good. It was why they were doing business. When it came to cunnin, you'd be hard pressed to find warbands more Morky than the Scraplootas or the Strait Shootaz. But it also meant he had to be very, very careful. "The Scraplootas are in a good position at the moment," he said. "We have a lot of good contracts, our numbers are growing, and we see no reason why we should give up our independence to join a Waaagh. We've got a good thing going." Complete nonsense to a normal Warboss. The usual response would be shouting. Or confused shouting. Or violence. Generally violence. But this Kaptin, he just sat there, scratching his enormous blue fang. Thinking. After a bit he got up and started to walk around the room. It took a while. The room was enormous, a high-roofed and metal, jutting out crazily at angles and festooned with chains, hung with machinery. For the meeting they'd chosen neutral ground, the workshop of a freelance Mekboy they both did a roaring trade with. Of course, Giblitz had paid a hefty bribe to make sure... precautions, had been taken, should the meeting turn violent. "So why izzit," Blu Toof said, "Dat you won't join me Waaagh?" Giblitz, Chief Diplomat of the Grotocracy, carefully studied the Warboss while he thought of a suitable response. From head to toe, Blu Toof was a classic Freeboota Kaptin; bedecked in teeth and loot with a fancy hat, and the twang of a Freeboota accent that crept into every Kaptin eventually.
But it was an act. Blu Toof played the part well, and certainly enjoyed doing it, but underneath the veneer of swashbuckelry was a mind known far and wide for bein ded cunnin. According to the orks they'd talked to, he was the wiliest ork in the sector. "When he stops talkin," they said, "dat's when he gets REAL cunnin. Dat's when hez THINKIN." This last word was always spoken in awe. Which... was good. It was why they were doing business. When it came to cunnin, you'd be hard pressed to find warbands more Morky than the Scraplootas or the Strait Shootaz. But it also meant he had to be very, very careful. "The Scraplootas are in a good position at the moment," he said. "We have a lot of good contracts, our numbers are growing, and we see no reason why we should give up our independence to join a Waaagh. We've got a good thing going." Complete nonsense to a normal Warboss. The usual response would be shouting. Or confused shouting. Or violence. Generally violence. But this Kaptin, he just sat there, scratching his enormous blue fang. Thinking. After a bit he got up and started to walk around the room. It took a while. The room was enormous, a high-roofed and metal, jutting out crazily at angles and festooned with chains, hung with machinery. For the meeting they'd chosen neutral ground, the workshop of a freelance Mekboy they both did a roaring trade with. Of course, Giblitz had paid a hefty bribe to make sure... precautions, had been taken, should the meeting turn violent.
At Blu Toof's roar, two Scraploota Boyz burst through the door behind Giblitz with raised choppas, only to halt as the door behind Blu Toof slammed open and four blue-painted Shoota Boyz leveled their Tau-augmented shootas at them, grinning. The same grins vanished as they felt the prick of enormous serrated knives, wielded by the Kommandos that had dropped down behind them. A large pile of rubbish in the corner came to life as three Tin Boyz. They in turn were swarmed by a horde of grots popping from every conceivable nook and cranny in the room, who proceeded to pry at the robot's joints until they became aware of the laser sights sweeping across them from the rafters. The rafters themselves unfolded to become long, painted railguns, the decorative lighting ('why did I think there would be decorative lighting in a mekboy shop', thought Giblitz) in fact the helmeted heads of the Strait Shootas' infamous snipers. A crude rocket smashed itself into pieces to reveal half a dozen Scraploota Stormboyz, who rocketed towards the snipers in a blast of exhaust. Halfway there they were intercepted by the Strait Shootas' own Stormboyz, jumping from their custom drones to tackle the Scraplootas to the ground. As the climax of the grand crescendo, an entire wall of the room fell outwards, exposing a looted Leman Russ tank crewed by grots. Everyone froze as it rumbled forward a meter or two, then stopped. The turret suddenly gave out the sound of gasping hydraulics and sagged downwards. A grot popped up from the tank's hatch. "Pump feed's gone missin', boss," he said. "Can't find it anywhere."
Blu Toof started to chuckle. It grew and grew until he was laughing uncontrollably. "Dat sneaky mek!" he wheezed. "Looks loike e's more cunnin den either ov us!" He managed to calm himself down. "Well den," he said, "Looks loik we've got ourselves a standoff. Wot do ya t'ink we should do about dat?"
Giblitz became aware, in the silence, of faint noises of a struggle coming from above the ceiling. He'd put his last ace in the whole up there, but judging by the cries of "OI IZ DA NOIGHT" and "Oh, yer a big one, ain't yez!", Derknitt, Snekkit, and Rockeater had become occupied with fighting some... thing, in the hidden space. They seemed to be having some difficulty. He tried to think. It was a test, wasn't it? The average ork, he wouldn't hesitate to scrap it out like this. But Blu Toof was ded cunnin, they all said. He wouldn't waste his boyz on a fight like this. In that case, there was only one thing to do. He set his jaw and looked at Blu Toof. "I fink we should 'ave it out," he said. "Just you an' me." Finally, he managed to surprise the Kaptin. His mouth swung open, his tooth angled crazily. "U wot?" he managed. "Me an' you, scrap it out." Giblitz said. "If yez think yer 'ard enuff." There was another long pause. The temporarily paused brawl of orks, locked at each others throats, looked at the Freeboota as he stood there. Thinking. And suddenly he was laughing again, in great bursts that were almost as intimidating as his roaring. "You cheeky grot!" he said. "Oi fink I 'ave you pinned and you go and do dat!" As one, the ork klans released their holds and separated, standing awkwardly. "Wot oi say iz, we getz da Purvis contract, da Monkay contract, AND de Orvitur contract," Blu Toof said. "An' I'll give ya de spoils from da next raid we hit dem spiky boyz wiv. I'll even frow in a noice 'ammerhead gun, you can mount on yer Titan." He paused. "An' dis tankard 'ere. Oi know ol' Dursnik loikes cups'n'such." "That... will be acceptable," said Giblitz. They shook hands, one completely enveloped in the other's. The ork forces began filing out. At the last moment, Blu Toof turned back. "Oh, one more fing." "Magrumm!" he shouted at the ceiling. "Give 'em back deir pump feed!"
A battered pump feed dropped from the ceiling. The sounds of fighting resumed.