Urgrugg sat in the corner of the ship, staring into the gem atop his staff. He was only half paying attention to what was going on around him. In a way, it almost felt like there were two of him, one preoccupied with his staff and the other concerned with the rest of the world. In his head, an argument went on, a crazy argument that would make no sense to anyone but an ork. Even then, no other ork would have the argument themselves. Either way, Urgrugg was likely crazy.

As the crew talked and debated, his thoughts slowly began to turn to hostile actions. For the longest time, a voice in the back of his mind had discouraged those thoughts, and helped keep them in check. Now, though, that voice was gone, and each passing moment made Urgrugg doubt whatever sense he had ever thought it had made. The conversations going on were not helping matters, either.

For the most part, things seemed simple to Urgrugg. They needed to leave, and go somewhere else. The obvious place to go was somewhere they could fight. The rest of it was just wasted breath. While some part of him found what the Ogryn said to be fascinating, and extremely informative-it had answered so many questions the ork had had about imperial culture for so long-it still did not matter. Sure, the Ogryn was the biggest, so obviously he should be in charge, but any boy could tell you bosses aren't chosen for their thoughts. All leading a mob meant was you got to fight all the biggest and toughest things.

Of course, there was also the gem. It was small, but it was there, his secret store of warp energy. It wasn't enough to do much, but it took next to nothing to kill someone. All he would have to do is break skin, and the jolt of warp energy could shoot to the victim's brain and destroy it completely. He could use that, but then he would be left defenseless. Just knowing it was there, though, was a comfort to the ork. Really, though, there was something else he wanted to do with that small burst of energy much, much more.

In a way, Urgrugg was like a man lost at sea, with nothing to drink but a bottle of rum. Who he was, his personality as it had existed for his long life, was based on a steady and constant connection to the warp. Without that connection, that personality was dying, being dehydrated by the lack of warp energy he was used to. There was warp energy around him, of course-everything produces warp energy, and the eldar stones were practically giant batteries-but like a thirsty man at sea he knew it would do him no good. Just taking in that power would not only not fix his problem, it would make it worse, and very quickly.

However, his stone was slightly different. That warp energy he could take in, and safely. It also was not the real thing. All it would accomplish is make him want more. Just like the man with the rum, though, it would feel so good going down. That alone might make the consequences worth it, if he were just going to die either way.

These two streams of thought clashed. One side of him wanted to fight, to kill everyone there just for the sake of the battle. The other was obsessed with the gem, stuck in a constant state of uncertainty of what to do with it. While the two sides would not seem mutually exclusive, deep down, it was actually a war between his base, orky self, trying to return to its instincts, versus his true identity, desperately grasping for his last chance at hope, knowing that when he takes hold of it, that will just mark the end.

When the ship shook, it jarred him from his thoughts, and that was all it took. His nose locked onto the scent of fresh blood, his eyes sought the group operating on the fallen tech marine. Standing, the battle in his mind was halted. Not ended, so much as stalled, as both sides agreed there was something else that needed done.

Walking up to the apothecary, he waited for him to finish. Once done, the ork held out his arm. Though it had reattached, and he was able to move it, it was little more than useless beyond that. It looked like it had been mummified, shriveled and completely dehydrated as it was. Like in most cases, the ork had managed to do what many would say could not be done. However, it had not been done well, and the result could hardly be called a success.

"You fix?" he asked the apothecary, a bit excited, though he didn't show it. Seeing the tech marine come out of his surgery with metal additions had made Urgrugg somewhat hopeful for something like that of his own. Perhaps one of those power claws he had heard of. Though, it was unlikely the marine would be able to match true ork engineering. "Can trade. Make me better. Make you better." Gesturing with his staff, he indicated the apothecary with the prior, then himself with the latter.