[color=1a7b30]Warboss Ar-Patu - Yonah System.[/color] 

The bridge of his capital ship shuddered as the murky view of the warp tore open into a flash of unreal color. The ship vibrated beneath his boots as the drag of realspace caught the ship from its warp jump. Ar-Patu looked at the planet ahead, a perfect blue-green marble hanging in the cold light of the void. He didn’t recognize it. The grot engineer next to him slunk back from a galactic positioning console, he pointed at the screen.

“It's not right boss!”  

Ar-Patu shifted his weight and stared down at the glowing screen. The grot was right, this wasn’t the Osage cluster. Ar-Patu looked back at the planet ahead of them, he could feel the hot air of rage building in his chest. This wasn’t Ovestia, this wasn’t their target. The grot slunk back further as Ar-Patu began to shake in fury, his breaths heavy and short. He looked around for someone to blame, his gaze settled on the big mek, a wiry greenskin whose face was buried in the navigation computer.

“You!” Ar-Patu’s voice rattled the bridge, his cyborg body distorting the growl. The big mek looked up, his face twisted in anger and fear. 

“You brought us here! Wez in the wrong system!” The big mek tried to shrink; he looked back towards the vaulted exit door then back to his warboss.

“Honest mistake boss, we can still get ba-” The big mek’s body snapped in two as Ar-Patu’s great pincer-claw closed around his midsection. He threw the head and chest against the far wall and brought his power claw down upon the legs smashing them into the floor. The other greenskins at their control stations backed away but waited there silent.   

Ar-Patu looked out the viewport, a staggering line of frigates and cruisers clustered around his ship. His fleet hung there, silent, waiting for the order. Ten years he had been preparing this army. Ten years he had spent researching Ovestia and the Imperial defenses in the Osage cluster. Ten years he had spent conquering three star systems to gather the soldiers and resources needed. Ten years spent manufacturing ammunition, armor, ships and weapons for his horde. Ten years spent fighting rival bosses and usurpers to maintain his power. Ten years wasted on a miscalculated warp jump.

 He narrowed his eyes, the planet coming into sharper focus. Ar-Patu knew it would have verdant forests, fertile fields and bountiful oceans. Mountains rich with ore and deserts filled with promethium. It would be a good target for his rage. He turned towards the communication alcove, several greenskins stood looking at him stupefied. 

“Raise the kaptains on the comms, give the order for a war!”