Greaves Log: The Interview

== The Interview ==
=== Greaves ===
If You Want To Travel And Explore New Worlds,
If You Want To Get Rich, Eat Nice Food, And
Create A Legacy For Generations To Come;
Look Elsewhere!
If You Want A Job Sign up.
That was the pamphlet that I held in my hands. Not exactly the most inspiring piece of literature.
My name is Greaves Fenrir. An Arch Militant for hire; or at least, that's what I'm supposed to be. Truth is, one of Tarron Damos's former soldiers, now an Admiral, put up this flier to get a crew together. I've been ordered to keep a close eye on him and observe his actions. To do that, I'm going to be under this Admiral's command.
Well that's the official version. I myself do not care for this assignment. On the other hand, it is a way to keep away from stuck up military types, that would love to order me around, and treat me like a dog just because I look like one.....
Oh, did I mention that I'm a mutant? Well I am; and it hasn't made my life easy.
=== Arrival and "Allies" ===
I hear the clicks of several guns being raised inside the transport ship I'm riding. Looking up from the parchment, I see a vast majority of the passengers aiming their weapons at the lone ork on the ship. The ork in question was messing around with his flamethrower, and seemed quite pleased with his progress.
"Hey can you not burn us to death, idiot!?" Shouted one of the men. (No kidding. In a pure oxygen zone like this, a small fire could kill us.)
The ork on the other hand, tried to assure that everything was alright and that he had everything under control. (*Groan*)
Sitting right across from him was one of those tech priests, messing around with his data slate and muttering under his breath. Seemed to be having quite a bit of difficulty. I'll never understand those people.
The transport ship lands at a space port, and I make my way towards my destination. The map wasn't very detailed, but I was able to make out where I was supposed to meet the man behind the application.
Along the way I noticed a crate that had stale blood stains on the bottom of it. Doesn't really hold any significance I suppose, but it definitely is a sign that no one cleans up.
"Oi! Furry Pinkie!! Can you tell me where to go?" I turn around and see the ork from the ship, holding his hand out with instructions crudely, drawn in marker on it. I wasn't going to answer the ork, until I realized that the instructions barred a resemblance to the ones on my pamphlet. Needless to say, I cringed.
Then the Tech Priest came up, and I saw he also was carrying a flyer for the job! Great..... So now it seems that two of my potential comrades were an Explorator, and an Ork. Out freaking standing.
I hear a noise off to the side, and see that a train had just pulled into the station. From the announcer's message, it seems that the train would be heading around the vicinity I needed to go. So, I tactically told the two where to go, and departed from them to go get a ride. I just barely made it inside before the doors closed. . . . . .
'Sniff, sniff'. Hm? I look to my left and see a hot-dog vendor, with his cart. Well, I was getting a little hungry. I buy a couple of franks, and scarf them down. Then I sat down and relaxed for the next three hours.
=== The Admiral ===
After departing from the train, I reached my destination. A bar filled with all sorts of unsavory individuals. The type of place that screamed 'all crooks come here to drink and do business'. Not a single soul seemed bothered that I was present. I guess I blend in quite well.
Trying to find my target among the crowd became quite the chore. I didn't seem to have any luck... Until I saw the ork again. He simply went up to a group and for directions, to which they pointed towards a section of the bar. I didn't want to have anything to do with him, but I needed to find the Admiral, so I followed the ork.
The ork spotted three navy officers, one of which sported a wall's worth of badges on his chest, that seemed impenetrable by normal standards. And had a magnificent beard that could only belong to the high elite that are far removed from the battlefield. Obviously the ork went to talk to that one, and handed him a metal plate which he called his 'resume'.
The man greeted the ork almost with open arms, then he directed the ork to one corner of the bar where quite a ruckus was being made. When we got there, we saw a pyramid of shot glasses on a table and two drunken sods on either side. One of the drunks had a ragged naval uniform, with a few medals. Cheers rang out as the opponent collapsed on the table. with his latest drink spilling on the floor.
The ork went up to the officer. "Ello! R U da admiral?"
"Huh? Uuuuuuhhhhhh, yeah, yeh, yeaaaaah, that'sssssss me." The man replied, clearly not all there. The ork began talking again. "Al'right! I was looking all over da place for you! Me name is Red Ded, and I's came here to hand u me resume!" The man tried to make out what was on the metal plate, but was too out of it to focus at all.
"Hold, hold, hold on.... G-give me a sec." He reached into his pockets for a pill bottle and took a couple of the pills, along with another shot. In the next moment his eyes went from glazed to focused, and his body stopped swaying back and forth. "Ah, much better. Thank RDM for making these. As you were saying?.... Ah yes! I put this flyer out! What about it?"
That's when I made myself known, and stated that I came to enlist along with the ork. "Boy you're going to need to get shaved big time." The Admiral retorted. The explorator from earlier showed up, and gave the Admiral his resume as well. The man looked at all three of us, and stated, "Ah God Emperor, not again...*Sigh*, 'Ahem'. Gentlemen! Good job making it this far! My name is Admiral Nathan Zachary, and if you want to be in my crew, there's something you're going to have to do for me first...."
=== Spark Plug Mayhem ===
"Unfortunate as it is, one of our finer vessels is currently in need of repairs. As it stands, we cannot leave until it is operational. What I need all of you to do, is to find me a spark plug. Once we have that, we should be able to complete the repairs, and fly away with all due haste. Any questions?"
At first nothing came to mind, but then it hit me... "Sir, what type of spark plug are we looking for?" Admiral Zachary directs his attention at me. "Oh, ah it's a part for a Valkyrie ship." With that Red Ded bolted off in search for the spark plug. While the tech priest searched his data slate for a shop with a discount for the item, I followed the ork to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.
By the time I tracked the ork to a small shop, he had found a spark plug for us. It was in a giant case in which Red Ded carried on his shoulder. I don't know how the ork managed to get the thing, but at least we don't have to waist any more time here.
Before I leave though, I notice a customer shop lifting some items. It pissed me off, so when the man tried to sneak past me, I punched him. The man crumpled unto the floor in a, seemingly, lifeless heap. The shop owner stared incredulously at me. "Why did you do that!?" He demanded.
"You might want to check his pockets." I state. When the man found his merchandise on the thief, he thanked me repeatedly. "Listen, I owe you one. I may not look like it, but I got connections that go far. If you need something from another merchant, tell them Gabriel sent you." With my work done, I depart.
I rejoin Red Ded, as he was, unintentionally, scaring the life out of a merchant for some fuel tanks for his flamethrower. After getting that mess settled, we make our way back to the docks. The Tech Priest rejoins us, with three different spark plugs other different sizes. He seemed to have some blood on him.
We were making our way back to port, when I noticed the local citizenry vacating the narrow street. From behind me I hear a group of footsteps approach. I turn around and see a gang of punks heading towards us. The Tech priest noticed them, and drew his power axe. After scaring half of them away with a show of strength, he then turned tail, and ran.
Not wanting to fight a bunch of thugs with only an ork by my side, I turn to an oblivious Red Ded and told him we were having a race. It worked and we sprinted towards the docks.
Once we made it, Red Ded finally noticed the gang. He took out his burner, and killed half of the attackers with a single sweep of fire. The tech priest closed the doors to the port.
Just when I thought I could catch my breath, a giant robotic crab thing, fell from the ceiling and charged at us! Red Ded wasted no time in taking his axes out, and hacking a leg off of the mechanical threat. I follow suit, with my power sword and slice a leg clean off. I can only assume the tech priest was trying to communicate with the thing with his mumbling.
The robot dropped a flash bang grenade, which robbed us of our senses. When I was able to see again, the machine was no where to be found; well, at least until I heard a loud bang to my right. I noticed a large blood stained crate, right in front of the ork. "C-25" The ork read off of the crate.
Looking up we spotted the robot on the roof, ready to drop more cargo on us. I take out my long las and fire, but I couldn't get a good shot. Eventually, the robot came down next to the briefcase that held our spark-plug. Red Ded threw on of his axes at the robot, but ended up hitting the briefcase instead. A green liquid started pouring out, and the robot wrapped its legs around it.
"Guys, that robot is about to self destruct!" The explorator stated. "Not on me nucklear spark-plug it doesn't!!" Red Ded shouted. (Wait, that thing is nuclear!!?)
Rushing to the robot, we hack its remaining limbs off. "Furry pinkie, help me throw tis crab!!" Red Ded demanded. I make a quick reply. "Forget the crab, grab the spark-plug!" Fortunately Red Ded saw things my way, and ran off with the brief case, radioactive ooze dripping. I start running as well.
Unfortunately, unlike the other two, I didn't manage to get past the explosion's blast radius in time, and was sent flying through the space port. I crash into a storage crate, but luckily, I didn't sustain any serious injury.
The tech priest was carrying me when all of a sudden we were surrounded by arbites. The commanding officer was accusing Red Ded of creating a nuclear weapon. (AKA the spark-plug) Before I could say that I wasn't affiliated yet with these two, the, unusually, quick thinking ork took his burner out, and pointed it at the plug.
"Listen here, officer pinkie. All I wants to do, is to fix me nucklear spark plug, by welding me resume on it. So let me do tat, and we all won't go boom." Kudos to the ork for thinking on his feet.
As fortune would have it, Admiral Zachary ended up seeing us in our predicament, and helped us out of it. He told the arbites that this was all just one big misunderstanding, and that he should stand down. The arbites didn't take it very well. I imagine that he would have loved to tear Zachary into pieces, but couldn't because he was outranked. He socked one of his soldiers, and stormed off.
Turning his attention to us, he asked, "So, did you boys get my spark plug?" Red Ded and the tech priest both show off their collective plugs, but the Admiral merely sighed. "I knew this would happen. None of you got the right one." Thinking quickly, I replied, "Well sir, you weren't very specific." He smiled at me. "OF course! That was the point! This was just something for you guys to do while the ship finished repairs. You see, I already got the plug for the ship, and now it's completely operational. Want to take it for a spin?"
The Admiral then reached inside his coat, and brought out a remote control, along with a tiny RC valkyrie toy. Red Ded demonstrated our combined frustrations by tossing his nuclear spark plug.
"Well, all and all, you guys seemed to do a decent job, so congratulations, you're all hired! Now follow me to our ship!" Admiral Zachary demanded. He led us down the port, until we saw the ship. It was a majestic battle ship. Rows of cannons lined up on either side of the vessel. It's prow was made of gold. It truly was a ship fit for an Admiral of Tarron Damos's army.
"Take a good look at her lads! Isn't she beautiful? Yes? Well good.... Cause our ship...... Is down there!" The Admiral pointed to a miserable looking ship in the shadowy corner of the port. Whatever grace it possessed had faded away to nothing. "She doesn't look good, but she'll get the job done. So, let's get down there, and get you all accommodated with your new home."