A Warboss's Retirement Plan: Prologue (Patreon)

He looked down upon the crude, kitbashed, holographic display showing a thousand star systems highlighted in green. There seated upon a comfortable throne, he inspected his holdings and found the borders caved. Before him was the map of the entirety of his empire and right at its border highlighted in gold and denoted with the double headed aquila was the enemy at the gates. In one lifetime, he would have rooted for the men under the aquila but today was a different existence, for he was no longer a man and this was an age where there was only war.

“Bozz, the beakie’s fleet has just arrived at the edge of the system anz oh boy there’z a lot of them ‘ere.” One of his men said, a gigantic ork wearing minimal armor, in passable high gothic as he pointed at the spots of golden light streaking straight for the heart of his empire.

He hummed for a bit as he looked at the display before  his attention was caught by a meek little human trying to keep her head low as she pushed a large cart containing large tankards of beer. She was one of the human servants that he saved from the slaughter. It was either the frying pan or this; he might no longer be human but he still had some humanity left. He grabbed one as the others jostled for who to get, growling warningly if one of his nobs looked like he was getting a bit hungry.

With his thirst sated, he reached towards the display and gestured for it to zoom in and on each light he’d see the symbol of the legion they were affiliated with. There amongst the ships were the expected symbols of the Omega, a slitted red eye, and a red lightning bolt; but there were those bearing a stylized black first along with a winged eagles claw. They were an unexpected addition to this decapitation strike. He started counting at the green dots and found that his fleet was outnumbered three to one.

“Well color me surprised. They’re sending in five of them here? Ha, thought they’d only send in three.” He barked out a laugh as he gently placed his beer down on the table before him. It was concerning yes but he couldn’t help but smile along with the boys. It was going to be a good fight, he could feel it in his bones.

“So boss, what do we do?” Asked his right hand ork as the stooped weird boy held on his banner. His eyes crackled with green energy.

“We bleed them out. Our fleet will not last long against those 5. Crack open the vaults to the nice shootas and big choppas.” He responded as he got off his seat, stretching a bit, and worked on the kinks on his shoulder. He was getting restless and the prospect of a fight was making it worse. “Arm everyone, even the gretchen. Have them crew the larger weapons.”

“The one you had Gearhead and his crew make all year long?” another Nob asked with glee in his beady little eyes.

“That vault.” He replied with a widened green as he reached for his helm. The stylized orkoid face looking back at him, grinning back at him as if hungry for battle. Well, it certainly wouldn’t be hungry for long with the awaiting blood bath. “Abandon the cities, let them take it. We’re going to the fortresses.” He ordered as he placed his helmet on. It might impede his vision but it was better than having no head at all.

“And miss out on the fightin when they start droppin?” A disgruntled nob wearing power grumbled out. The room became deadly quiet as Magsnik stared at the nob who looked around nervously. His grip tightened at the handle of his adamantine hammer. Flipping his maul so that the spiked end was facing forwards, he reached out with his weapon and pulled the Nob by digging the spike on his armor.

His muscle bulged at the effort of dragging the Ork down but he had to send a message as he growled at his face slowly. “We’re not missing out on the fighting. We’re just taking the fight where it's going to be the most brutal. Down in the tunnels, there’s no cover.“ he explained to him in pain-staking detail.

He could see the gears grinding in the orks head as he looked crossed eyes down on his tusk before a smile stretched across his face. “Yes boss, I get it now! That’s why you is the boss! Yur definitely one of ‘dem brain boyz! ” He nodded eagerly as he grinned at him. He had to suppress a groan of disappointment as he pulled his hammer off the orks armor. Sometimes, he wondered if this was really worth it.

“Any objections?” He grounded out, waiting for any to make a move but the shakes of their heads and their averted gaze told him their answers. “Then what’s with the thumb fiddling here? Get up you lot, the turrets in the mountain aren't going to arm themselves!” He shouted as he slammed the butt of his maul down on the floor.

That spurred them into action as they quickly filtered out of the room. He looked down on them as they passed by him and waited for them to get out before he could give his final orders. Once they were gone, he pointed at the lone servant left in the room. “You, come here,” he ordered, making the girl squeak as walked towards him. “Get every servant to safety. Evacuate the palace. Things are going to get ugly.” He said as he pulled out a small stubber from one of his pouches and gave it to her as a symbol of her authority. The girl nodded as she took the gun and ran off.

Fiddling with knobs on his belt, he finally got the setting right and smashed the button over the buckle and he was tossed in the immaterium. The wailing sea of souls rejected his orkiness as he shot through it, punching anyone that got too close, before he felt the large concentration of orks nearby and he slammed the button again to which he found himself deposited on the train station where orks of all sizes were boarding their transport. With the sky burning as lances of fire streaked across the heaven, it wouldn’t take long before they came down to the ground.

-x-x-x-

He expected this, he’d been preparing for this but when the news came, he still felt he wasn’t ready. “Bozz Magsnik! Bozz Magsnik! The Beakies are ‘ere! They be droppin like you said they would!” Shouted an ork messenger as he burst into the room, disturbing him from his planning with the boys. He straightened up as he stared at the orks excited face as the cave he was in shooked. The plasteel reinforced ferrocrete pillars the mountain complex cracked despite how they were wider than he was tall and he towered over the other green skinned monsters inside this room.

“Gitzappa, prepare the Weirdboyz.” He ordered as he walked towards the nearby window to the battlefield. He was currently inside a bunker where his men could shoot the enemy with impunity. He could be in those underground bunkers but he needed to see things with his own eyes. Currently, some of his own nobs were using the mounted shoota’s to spray and pray to the aircraft buzzing by.

Protected by several feet of reinforced ferrocrete, he overlooked the war torn from one of the vantage points of his mountain fortress as the battle raged on from down below. Millions of soldiers of the Imperialis Auxilia assaulted them from all sides, marching along their Leman Russ and supported by their basilisk as they climbed up the slopes of the mountain. The very skies burned as the massive drop ships of the Legio Titanicus and the shells of Nova cannons rained from above. The ground itself trembled as thousands of astartes launched themselves at his defenses but he did not fret for this is exactly what he wanted.

Along with the dropships came the burning hulks of both his own and imperial warships falling from the sky, burning and crushing both humans and orks alike. The sky was lit up as his fortresses' anti air batteries spewed a storm of lead. Men and Astartes alike fell as his forces ambushed them in close quarter combat as these soldiers were forced to fight in the claustrophobic trenches and tunnels dotting his mountain fortress.

“It’s almost like Iwo Jima.” he chuckled out as he watched with a feral grin on his ugly mug. With five legions barreling straight for his fortress world, he knew the fight would be a tough one. It could be won, he just needed to last longer than they could. A decapitation strike was good for his kind but that could lead to them being trapped behind enemy lines.

“Wuzzat bozz?” One of his Nobz asked as the large ork scratched his head. He suppressed a groan at that. He sometimes wished he had someone to talk to that doesn’t require him punching and beating someone but alas, he was an ork. Any talk will eventually devolve into a fight or a challenge.

“Nevermind, just get ready to evacuate to the next fortress. We’re taking this fight elsewhere. For now though.” he turned to his standard bearer who came with the weirdboyz as instructed. They twitched and mumbled as they hooked to tha banner. The baleful green glow in the eyes of the skull atop the banner was a good sign.

He walked up to the banner and grabbed hold of it. Immediately, power flowed through his veins. Green lightning danced across his skin and down his hammer. They lashed out, singing and striking randomly until he started to exert his might. The lightning turned inward, arching around the banner and his weapon. With this power contained in hand, he raised his hammer and pointed at one of the titans belonging to the Colegio Mortis. Its grizzly form is covered with the skulls of both orks, xenos, and humans alike as it waded around the battlefield. He found a target and nothing in the battlefield right now was more worth his attention as the giant started digging through the tunnels at the side of the mountain.

He breathed in and started pulling at the force of the horde below, drawing at the power permeating every orkoid in this very planet. His lungs filled with not just air but power as the air around him shimmer. Pressure quickly built up as his body was forced to contain the power of the horde, channeled to him by the screaming and roaring weirdboyz around him. His head feeling like it was going to burst, and indeed some of the weirdboyz around him had their heads pop, yet his hammer helped him channel it, drawing it away from his body and preventing it from building up too much. He held on to this raw untapped force until he couldn’t anymore.

Thrusting his hammer out, He bellowed out, letting his roar carry out and directing the psychic energy of a billion orcs ark out and hit the Titan squarely on the chest. A million tons of steel was lifted off its feet and sent back tumbling back. It’s colossal form crashing against the hard ground, crushing its allies and his own forces as green smoke plumed from its chest. He laughed out maniacally as he felt his blood sing while the force of the WAAAGH bled off.

The weirdboyz around him were left twitching and drooling after being made to channel that much energy. He pulled at his banner, tearing the connection tethering it to them as he handed it back to his standard bearer. He was in no position to talk about toughing it out as his own mind felt like it was being apart. Only his superior constitution as a warboss allowed him to keep going.

With that display of power, his position would soon be focused upon. He needed to get out here soon else he’d be eating Nova Shells as breakfast. He turned around to see his Nobs cheering and shouting as they raised their shoota’s and choopa’s. “What the hell did I just say? Go on you lot! Scram!” He shouted as he backhanded the nob he commanded earlier with his hammer. A good knock on the head was the quickest way to send his orders across as they scrambled to their feet and ran off.

“I swear these idiots…” he growled out as he shook his head and went to follow them. This mountain was a bust and they’d soon overwhelm it. The next nearest mountain was a thousand miles away and he fully expected one idiot to have the “bright idea” of leaving him behind. Running there would be a pain especially in the cramped tunnels and he did not like the prospect of traveling that far through the warp.

Just as he was about to leave this room, he heard shouting from outside along with the tell tale explosions of a bolter exploding as it hit the Plasteel reinforced ferrocrete of his bunker as well as retaliatory fire from his own men. What peeked his ears were not the gun fire of heavy bolters but the roar of chainswords and the crackling of some energy weapons. He immediately hit his panic button and the alarm claxons rang out and bathed the room in a red light.

The grin on his face turned feral as he burst out of the room and came face to face with the power armor clad form of a Terminator. He had to give credit where it was due as the man immediately aimed his heavy bolter at his head and sprayed lead right at his face. Unfortunately for the man, he was currently wearing a helmet and it pinged off his head uselessly.

He swung his hammer and he savored the sound and feeling of the warriors armor crumpling as he was launched to the wall. The hallway he walked into was large enough to allow a small Gargant to walk around and here was a sizable contingent of white armor clad Astartes led by an absolutely gigantic superhuman wielding a power claw on one hand and a maul on the other. The bald head, the wolf pelt and that singular eye upon his chest piece told him who he was facing.

“Ahhh, the infamous Horus Lupercal of the Luna Wolves.” He shouted in greeting as he raised his hand and fired at the Primarch with the modified Stormbolter strapped on his left arm.

He never saw such bullshit as the man swiped his claw and vaporized his shots even when he was clearly surprised. “High Gothic?”  The superhuman shouted in surprise as Magsnik was forced to deal with more Terminators. He blocked their swords, letting their tooth blade scratch his adamantine hammer before he pushed them away and they were blasted by his standard bearer's lightning.

“It’s a fucking pain to learn I swear, much less teaching to my nobs!” He shouted as he headed straight for the primarch who was clearly intent on killing him. He swiped his hammer, hitting and smashing everyone on his way as bloodlust tinted his vision green. He was going to smash that stupid smile spreading across the mans face.

The primarch laughed as he charged forward, passing by surprised Nobs and Terminators alike, and shouted in response “Hah! I never expected the day that I’d agree with an Ork of all things.”

They clashed and at first Horus proved to be the better fighter as he forced him back. He was far faster, more nimble even, and he made great use of it to get under his strikes. Magsnik was missing but soon he found his footing when he started bodying the primarch and using his bigger size and thicker armor. The warsmaster’s strikes might dig deeper into his flesh but he was tougher. He bullied the Primarch back as the fighting and claxons attracted every ork in the vicinity.

Magsnik pulled back to take a breather as feral gretchins and snotlings threw themselves at the Primarch as they burst out of the air vents from above. The little creatures proved their worth by showing the son of the emperor why he must always wear a helmet as he was bathed in blood and was blinded by it. The warboss didn’t waste his time as he started pelting his enemy with bolter fire for distraction.

“Enough of this!” Roared the primarch as he threw off the last gretchin only to find that he and his children were surrounded by Orks of all sizes. Magsnik laughed out loudly as the ground started to shake and a pair of glowing green eyes appeared from behind Magsnik and Horus.

“I concur.” Magsnik agreed as he started to pull at the WAAAGH and channeled it in his hammer just as a pair of small Stomaps appeared from the tunnel. Surrounded on all sides and with no way out, Magsnik roared as he sent his men to the brave and valiant men.

He would soon see Horus mobbed by a green tide giving Magsnik time to fiddle with his teleporter. Horus was fighting like a trapped squig as he sliced through orks left and right but that left him open as Magsnik slammed his hands on the big red button and appeared several feet above the Primarch. With the hammer raised up high, he fell down like a big damn Rok and slammed his hammer right on the Primarchs shoulder. The man feel down from the grievous injury and he was quickly beset by furious and suicidal marines yet it was for naught as their leader was rendered unconscious from the shock leaving them without direction.

He stood atop a pile of Marines as he stared down at the unconscious form of the primarch. “You will make for a useful bargaining tool.” He chuckled out as he reached down and picked the Warmaster up for he had a plan, he always had a plan.

-x-x-x-

With Horus stripped of armor and dragged in chains, Magsnik strolled into battle with his banner attached to his back. The moment he stepped out of his fortress door with the Warmaster in hand, the battlefield seemed to come to a stop as his men turned to him and cheered while the Astarte’s morale dropped as they faltered in their charge. There in front of him was the greatest general of the imperium in chains and collared like a common criminal.

“Soldiers of the Imperium!” He called out, letting his voice ring out across the battlefield. “Stand down and your Warmaster might live longer!'' He demanded as he kicked the battered form of the primarch. His right shoulder was a mess but it was a pragmatic choice on his part. He would not live a day longer if Horus died now. With his hammer resting on his shoulder and his banner fluttering in the wind, he looked at the battlefield as it grinded to a halt.

“Boyz, let the Beakies have time to think.” He added with a cruel laugh, hamming up his action to get the attention of his men. Thankfully, the Orks held back and fell back to their defensive position. Any Ork smart enough to disobey were dispatched by the wall of guns called his mountain fortress.

That quickly put a damper on the action as he effectively forced a ceasefire down the invaders throats. Combat quickly grinded to a halt as he felt every gun on the enemy's side trained their way towards him. He feared them not for he had someone in between them and his fleshy body. Out from the enemy line stepped a heavily armored astartes clad in artisanal purple armor with the symbol of the imperium proudly used as his own symbol.

“What’s stopping us from turning your head into paste, Ork?” The Phoenician asked as he could practically feel the hundreds of red dots appearing on the forehead of his armor. The venom and hate dripping from those words was almost palpable and he reveled in it.

“I’m glad you asked.” He replied as he raised his clenched fist and the collar on Horus’s neck started to blink. “Wanna fuck around and find out, Phoenician?” He asked. The things you could do with simple and dirt cheap blinking lights was just amusing. One misstep however and he died.

“Why?” called out another voice, this time he couldn’t discern where it was but the dry and unamused yet intrigued voice hinted him on who it was.

“Asking for my demands, Praetorian? That would be simple really. Leave.” He demanded and even his own men were taken aback. Him, the warboss letting the enemy go? It was the most unorky of demands and no ork in their right mind would ask for a thing. Good thing he wasn’t fully orky inside his head. “Isn’t a temporary white peace more appealing for both of our sides than what we have now?” He asked.

This was what he wanted. Ullanor in the long run was fucked and there was no prospect of him ever touching his retirement plan if this battle was to continue. He needed the imperium off his back long enough for the Heresy to kick off. With him having one of the primarchs, he might just be able to force that. Everything was going according to his plans until things didn’t.

For a brief second, he felt an oppressive pressure descend on the battlefield. He felt four pairs of eyes settle on him until they faded away as a crushing, all encompassing feeling fell upon the battlefield. The battlefield was bathed in golden light before HE arrived.

Clad in golden armor and wielding a flaming sword, the master of mankind arrived in the battle. For a brief moment, Magsnik’s eyes met those terrible golden eyes and his spirit started to scream. He felt his feet step backward as overwhelming fear as his custodes started to appear though the very same portal He appeared from. For the first time in his new life, he once more felt fear. Instinct and his conscious mind warred inside him as he felt his throat lock up, his mouth hanging open as the man before him stepped forward with his ten thousand in his back.

All his plans came crashing down as the one person he wished to never personally meet was forced into battle. He knew deep in his bones that this hair brained scheme of his was the cause and now it was going to be a fight for a lifetime. He could already hear the twins roaring in his ears, demanding him to move forward but he couldn’t and so he did what any sane person in this insane galaxy would do given his situation.

“Fuck this! I’m out!” He shouted as he tossed the rock he had been holding on the ground before grabbing the banner on his back and thrusting it the the nearest ork. With little to no regards to his own safety, he overloaded his belt by breaking the button and teleported out of the situation. He was forced into the warp screaming and kicking as he was pulled in every which direction. The moment he fled, he felt the twins screaming at him while the sea of souls heaved and roiled. With no way to control where he would land, he floated around blind to the eternities. He swung his hammer around, using what meager energy was left in him to ward off the nipping creatures in the dark for untold ages until it ended as soon as it began.

He found himself crashing and tumbling in a pile of broken metal and rocks. He laid their broken and defeated yet whole and sane. “It actually worked…” He whispered out as he started laughing. He turned to his back and there he beheld a sky filled with stars and around him were the broken remains of hundreds if not thousands of ships.

He did not know where he was and he could not feel the WAAAGH anywhere. He was lost out in space in some unknown space hulk and it suited him just fine. He took in a deep breath and found that the air was thin but that was fine, he was an ork after all. He tried to get up but he found himself weakened, severely so as the armor he wore and the weapon he wielded felt like its actual weight. The WAAAGH left him just as he had left his WAAAGH.

“This… is unexpected but I can work with this.” He declared. He was tired and drained but he was very much still alive. Even if his limbs weren’t so strong anymore, he now had time aplenty to spend in this little corner of the galaxy, he found a place where war has yet to reach. He was not really cut out for all this war stuff anyways, might as well retire.

“My name is Magsnik Kogchewa and I’m officially retired.” He called out to no one as he forced himself up. With his heavy maul in hand, he started to walk in search of a place to make a house in this strange space hulk with its atmosphere and strange heavy gravity.

“This place isn’t exactly bad.” He declared as his foot found actual silicate rock. Maybe he could actually make this work but he really needed to find a spot to settle down first as his armor needed to be pulled off. A good dark cave would be nice to settle in, somewhere cool, damp and, most importantly of all, hidden away from the prying eyes up in the sky. He was in a space hulk so a trip to the warp from time to time wouldn’t be too out of the question. He also needed it to contain plenty of rock to smash and make soil using his blood and spores. He couldn’t exactly farm in solid metal… well he could be whatever he made wouldn’t taste good.

Unbeknownst to him however, amidst the countless junk and debris that covered this space hulk, two pairs of glowing red eyes watched from a distance. The owner of those eyes watched him, staring intently before a blood thirsty grin stretched across their face.