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Da Kaper Krew – Extract

A Black Library Publication

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DA KAPER KREW

Justin Woolley

Slipbit cowered as Mekboy Zapdaks raised the whip.

Grots, as a subspecies of ork, had an extremely high pain threshold. For most injuries, even up to being shot, losing a limb or being lashed with a chain-whip, they experienced a small sensation of discomfort just to let them know that something bad had happened. Because of this, it was not simple avoidance of pain that made Slipbit shrink back from the fall of the whip. In fact, there was a lot more complex behaviour at play.

Grots were bred to be a slave class to orks, and their instincts reflected this. They existed in an almost perpetual state of fear of their larger, stronger and horrendously violent cousins, but they also had a completely contradictory genetic desire to please them. Every member of the gretchin race went through life in a haze of being both terrified of their masters and simultaneously feeling desperate to satisfy them.

Slipbit had not pleased Mekboy Zapdaks, which was why he was currently being whipped.

‘I said, connect dat wiring loom to dis plasma wotsit, ya dumb puny git,’ Zapdaks said as he swung the whip at Slipbit. The chain hit Slipbit and knocked him to his knees.

‘Sorry, boss,’ Slipbit said, both terrified and ashamed of his failure. ‘I won’t do it again.’

‘No, cos next time I’ll proper krump ya.’

From somewhere on the other side of the engine room there was the sudden boom of an explosion. Zapdaks spun in the direction of the sound.

‘Gah! Wot ’ave you stupid gits done now?!’ the mekboy shouted before stomping off to see what had blown up and how important it was.

Slipbit climbed back to his feet. ‘Stupid mekboy git. ’E’s gonna get it when Da Revolushun comes.’

‘Shut up, Slipbit,’ said Digga, one of the other engine room grots.

‘Ain’t ya ’eard ’bout Da Red Gobbo?’ Slipbit said. ‘Dey’z sayin’ e’s on dis ship. E’s somewhere right now on Big Thumpa and ’e is gonna make grots free.’

‘Nah, Slipbit,’ Digga said. ‘I mean, shut up cos da boss is still ’ere.’

Slipbit turned to see that Mekboy Zapdaks had not, in fact, stomped off to see what had blown up and how important it was. This time the chain struck Slipbit in the side of the head. Blood, chunks of his cheek, and teef all burst out of his mouth in an arcing spray as Slipbit was knocked onto his side.

‘Wot you talking about Red Gobbos?’ Zapdaks roared as he kicked Slipbit. The ork’s heavy boot landed in his abdomen with a lung-emptying slam. ‘Dere ain’t no such fing.’

The mekboy brought his whip down on Slipbit again, the chain snapping several of the grot’s ribs.

‘Ain’t no such fing as free grots, neither.’

The whip cracked down on Slipbit again.

‘Orks is bigger.’

Crack.

‘Orks is bester.’

Crack.

‘And grots is grots!’

Crack.

When Zapdaks finally stopped, Slipbit was a quivering mess on the engine room floor, bloody and broken and barely conscious. Even when the mekboy finally did wander off to investigate what had blown up, none of the other grots came to Slipbit’s aid out of fear they might suffer the same fate.

Slipbit remained a broken body on the floor for several hours, stepped over and avoided as if he was a dropped bit of gubbinz. He passed in and out of consciousness as his fungal body attempted to stitch itself back together.

At some point much later, Slipbit awoke to see a grot standing over him wearing a pair of oversized goggles and a long red cape and holding a sceptre that was topped with a large shiny green ball. Slipbit had heard all the stories. He knew Da Red Gobbo when he saw him. Problem was, Slipbit also knew he’d been smashed in the head a bunch and this probably wasn’t real.

‘I wish you was real,’ Slipbit managed to say.

‘I is real,’ Da Gobbo said. ‘I is Da Red Gobbo, leader of Da Gretchin Kommittee.’

Slipbit turned his head to see almost all the engine room grots had gathered, and they were all looking at Slipbit’s maybe-not-imaginary Red Gobbo.

‘Wot’s your name?’ Da Gobbo asked.

‘Slipbit.’

‘You ’as suffered the type of ork brutality we grots can no longer stand for, Slipbit.’

‘I wasn’t standing for it,’ Slipbit said. ‘I was lying down most of da time.’

‘You know why we fight, and I needs a grot who knows about workin’ machines. You is gonna come wiv me, Slipbit. You is gonna make gretchin ’istory.’

Slipbit felt something he wasn’t used to, then. It was like the feeling he got when he pleased an ork, except without the guilt. He had pleased Da Red Gobbo, and Da Red Gobbo was the type of boss he could get behind.

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A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION

This eBook edition published in 2024 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd, Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK.

Represented by: Games Workshop Limited – Irish branch, Unit 3, Lower Liffey Street, Dublin 1, D01 K199, Ireland.

Produced by Games Workshop in Nottingham.
Cover illustration by Daz Tibbles.

Da Kaper Krew © Copyright Games Workshop Limited 2024. Da Kaper Krew, GW, Games Workshop, Black Library, The Horus Heresy, The Horus Heresy Eye logo, Space Marine, 40K, Warhammer, Warhammer 40,000, the ‘Aquila’ Double-headed Eagle logo, and all associated logos, illustrations, images, names, creatures, races, vehicles, locations, weapons, characters, and the distinctive likenesses thereof, are either ® or TM, and/or © Games Workshop Limited, variably registered around the world.
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ISBN: 978-1-83609-121-9

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