"Glitsnik braced himself against the shell of a corroded pipe and flicked his Bolter down the exposed pipeway, detecting no sound in the pitch black near vacuum, he restrained himself and pulled away. Ammunition was low and this deep into the hulk even the giant mutated ****roaches his warband had feasted on were becoming scare. Bubbletown the sprawling Ork settlement and its fungus lined chambers were months behind him. The few miles between it and the surface of the moonlike space hulk had been conquered and cleared of Genestealers and what other little life had existed there long before Gliksnik had been formed. Clan warfare and dwindling resources, combined with the experiential reproduction of the Orks trapped aboard the Hulk had pushed warbands like Gliksniks deeper and deeper into the black empty spaces of the rock and metal behemoth. Gliksnik doubted even the bulky tracker still strapped to his armour could guide them back now. His armoured suit hissed and emitted a burst of fetid gas into his uncovered face enough to sustain his lungs for a hour. Moments later a scalding blast of heat ripped past his face and through the rusted segments of the suit compensating for the blinding cold. Gliksnik shifted his massive bulk against the sticky innards of the suit and launched himself back into the blackness of the cavern. The zero gravity carried him across the twisted throughway and slamming into the other side with a crash of metal. Gliksnik peered back through the gloom. The rest of his warband moved up behind him, visible only by their helmet mounted lamps or piercing red eyes. Little more than fifty remained of what had been more than three hundred warriors. Many of the un-suited whelps had perished within days of leaving Bubbletown, a few still trailed behind their gaunt features still contorted with an alert hungry stare and crude maces clasped in their hands. The rest were hardened veterans and well equipped, their dented suits preserving them from the extremes of the cold lifeless interior. Early into their exodus Gliknik had lost many troops to infighting, most by his own hand. Bitter rivalries and bloodlust had threatened to tear apart the ravaging expedition but Gliksnik ruthless brutality and driving will had forged a fighting force that had survived in this, the most inhospitable of worlds. He turned his ravaged features back toward the seemingly limitless recesses of the darkness, with a snarling roar and raised fist he beckoned his army onwards………

The Warlords brutal and alien mind had no way of knowing how long ago those endless nights had been. Gliksnik still thought back to them his senses still sharpened by the memory. One long endless night of grim survival, the harsh unforgiving blackness swallowing all but the strong. Through the core of the Hulk, Gliksnik had fought through constricted broken airshafts and labyrinths of billowing and shaken caverns. He doubted nor cared if any of the millions of Ork warriors that now followed him were survivors of those days. He remembered followers who had tired of the company of their bloodthristy comrades and had wandered off into the wilderness harried and attacked by the whelps that were drawn from that same emptyness. His ambition and bloodlust had never wavered though, and had driven him on further to become far more than the leader of a handful of desperate killers. Even greater he was now the psychic conduit of millions of warriors. Through every nerve, ragged scar tissue, and slab like muscle he could feel the force of his followers and the rich cloying favour of the Gods who had driven him on to this point.
The Space Hulk he had first fought through was long gone. Crashed through the atmosphere of a distant planet, the race that had flourished there slaughtered through the long nuclear winter that followed. Since that day Gliksnik Thraknar Voidstalker had walked across a dozen world a billion light years apart. Still he was driven onwards. Sometimes his growing fleet would loop back for decades, collecting tithes from systems already subjugated. But always driven onwards through the void across the stars.

A thousand years after the embryonic fleet had first lurched through space, it had grown to a myriad of ships, hulks and stations. In real-space it resembled a gigantic asteroid field. Many of the starships were more Rock than metal, as pitted and misshapen as the space hulks, their interiors great carved caverns. Some of the ships were scratchbuilt by the Orks themselves. Squat armoured behemoths bristling with armaments, boarding torpedos and grappling lances as wide and long as skyscrapers. Many more were ships seized in war from their enemies, or had been built as tribute, or under enslavement. Around one hulk darted Felandi Fighters protected within its gigantic forcefield, the Ork flyboys flitting in and out of each others path, breaking off as occasionally two collided and silently exploded. Behind the wasp-hive hulk lurched a captured Demuirg Cruiser, half its interior open to the vacuum. The fleet was reforming a few light years outside human space, an area none cared or knew was called the Mordax Prime system in the Scarus sector. A ship jet black and no more than a splinter compared to the fleet verred off from the chaotic regrouping and heading into deep space. Apart from the creatures within only one Ork from the multitude of the fleet noticed. The Ork was kept in an opulently decorated backspace which perhaps a decade ago had held a gigantic ventilation pump. He was a prisoner, the guards, Orks, bruised from the fits and pychokinetic explosions that wracked the creatures body. Its body was crisscrossed with battlescars where he had been dragged into the throng of battle, as well as the torture mark of his brethren guards.The weirdboy was in a nearby ship and despite his ignorance was part of the phycic network that had keep the fleet together in the warp and deep space as it had leap frogged across the sector. His dreams had been filled with nightmares, the dark ship had floated in his mind. Although he had never seen it through the thick hull, he had seen its jetblack hide and the thick jagged Ork Glypths carved into its side. The dreams had been unnatural and more than the tidal force of violence emenated from the other ships. As the ship dropped away from the fleet like a speck of dust sucked into the wind, the weird boy felt its strange prescence waning. Already he could hear the bustle and anger of his own ship increasing and the pulse of the link between the fleet. It could take years to enter the system but he could sense other fleets in the warp and space converging together. A new war was coming…."