Az Rath Station loomed like a silver titan in the void.
A massive orbital wheel of docks, towers, and industrial arms spun lazily in slow rotation. Lights blinked from landing zones, cargo cranes clanked overhead, and hundreds of smaller ships orbited or docked in tightly scheduled shifts. Traders, mercenaries, pilgrims, diplomats, and smugglers all called this place home—briefly or permanently.
It was the kind of place where no one asked questions, so long as you follow the rules and didn't cause any large scale skirmish.
Inside the ork-fied nomad ship.
Kael moved through the halls now filled with graffitis and orky symbols. The surroundings filled of the smell of fungus, a mix earthy and smoky scent along with the metalic smell of blood.
Behind him was Bossboot now clad in something resembling an astronaut suit from the 21st century. A practical way to contain and prevent his spores from spreading in the space station resulting in more trouble.
Along the way orks began to chatter as they saw kael.
"A zoggin' humie's da Boss?!"
"Why da zog is a humie bossin' us Orks?!"
"Maybe 'e's wearin' a humie suit?"
"Dis iz heresy! Or... sumfin'!"
"Even Bossboot's trailin' afta dat runt grot?!"
"Mebbe he's like... a weirdboy in disguise..."
Majority of the question were from newer orks who never interacted with Kael but the older orks
"You daft runts don't know nuffin."
"You see a humie. I seen a god in a humie's skin."
Grimskab one of the earlier Nob with his face half-burnt muttered after slamming the head of a newer ork.
"I saw da humie Boss glare at a disobedient runt — just looked at 'im — and BOOM! 'Is zoggin' 'ead sploded like a squig full o' gas!"
"Y'think Bossboot follows him cause he's scared? Naw. Bossboot thinks he's a prophet. Calls 'im 'Da Eater'. Reckons he eats disobedient Orks' souls."
"We fink 'e's da Chosen o' Gork and Mork. Ain't no uvver way 'ta explain it!"
Muttered another one.
Kael paid no attention to their chatter as orks were never the organized kind no matter how you discipline them. Brutality and aggressiveness is enconded in their entire body.
He never even had the idea of training them to be kind, obedient and caring creatures. Even he with his basic knowledge or Warhammer lore know that these creatures are good at nothing but war.
And for the head exploding stuff? It's actually something he discovered. As he experimented more with the ork "server" he realized that it allows more than simple connection and control of ork mind. It also allows him to do multiple things such as making orks brain explode and feeling their emotions.
And it seems that the more orks grow the more the "server" develops too giving him access to more abilities. Who knows maybe he can even use psychic powers without the warp with enough orks like how ork psykers channel the energies of the WAAAGH.
Just as he was daydreaming about becoming a mini emperor of mankind with ork army he was jolted awake by the ships AI.
[Docking clamps engaged. Warning: Ork presence on board may void sanitation compliance. Proceeding with landing.]
Bossboot stood beside Kael, his armor polished with what Kael could only assume was squid oil and teeth paste. He had a new banner strapped to his back, made from a scorched pirate flag overpainted with his crude glyph: a red boot kicking a skull.
"Boss, iz dis da place wit da snacks?" he grunted, peering through the viewport.
Kael nodded, adjusting his jacket and pulling a rebreather mask halfway up his face. "It's the place with everything—food, parts, weapons. If we don't piss off every local authority."
Bossboot growled happily. "Orright. I'll krump polite-like."
As the ramp lowered, the scents of fuel,smoke, fungus, and sweat flooded the air. A few dockworkers immediately recoiled from the stench billowing out of the ship—an unholy mix of mushroom spores, squig musk, and lingering blood mist.
A bipedal reptilian dock officer stepped forward, flanked by two spider-legged security bots. Her scales shimmered gold under the artificial sunlamps.
"Captain... Kael?" she asked, nostrils flaring.
"That's me," Kael said in the universal language and stepping forward. "just a quick selling of some unused supplies and regular restock"
Her slitted eyes glanced over Kael, then lingered on Bossboot, who was busy poking a vending machine and threatening it in Low Gothic.
The officer cleared her throat. "Your ship will be confined to hangar Sector 3. Your crew is to remain aboard unless escorted. Any breaches of conduct will be met with force. This is a neutral station."
"Won't," Kael said. "Trust me. I'd like to survive long enough to eat something that doesn't squirm."
She waved them through.
Kael led Bossboot down the gangway into the pulsing heart of Az Rath.
Every corridor burst with alien life: four-eyed merchants bartered, jellyfish like creatures floated hovered above food stalls, and a gang of cyber-enhanced insectoids haggled over livestock. The ceiling rose dozens of meters above, crisscrossed with neon signs and hanging vines. Trade Sector was like a city on its own with recreational facilities and shops.
Bossboot turned slowly, eyes wide.
"Boss... I fink I'm in love. Dere's SO MUCH STUFF."
"Don't touch anything," Kael muttered.
"Too late," Bossboot said, already swiping a glowing fruit from a gelatinous vendor stand. It hissed in six languages and began screeching at him.
As they walked deeper into the bazaar, Kael glanced up at a massive view window.
Az Rath hung in orbit around a cracked gas giant, bathed in blue auroras. For a moment, the noise faded. The mission, the Orks, the ship all fell away. He was just a man walking through the galaxy's underbelly with an Ork chieftain at his side.
He never imagined it would come to this.
Walking a few mire minutes they finally reached their destination. A medium sized store at the side of the street that buys almost all kinds of material and items as long as it has some uses.
Perfect for disposing stuff and cargo from the old nomad ship.
[A/N: character pics uploaded as paragraph comments in their description.]