Two months. Sixty days of frantic preparation that had transformed the Kaminoan station into an unprecedented beacon of military and technological activity. Thanks to his System, Julius Braveheart had crossed a decisive threshold. He had finally purchased and unlocked all the Terran heroes from StarCraft, and they were now in his service, along with the entirety of their technological knowledge.
The command room, once so impersonal, now hummed with a new energy. Tactical holograms stood side-by-side with schematics for Goliaths, Vikings, and Siege Tanks.
· Jim Raynor and Matt Horner discussed overarching strategy with Julius, their combined experiences against the Zerg and the Dominion bringing invaluable tactical depth.
· In an adjacent workshop, the distinctive sound of a plasma torch echoed under the supervision of Rory Swann, while Egon Stetmann, in his lab, happily chattered away optimizing the G-Serum sequences and calibrating the neural interfaces of the armors.
· Gabriel Tosh, a silent shadow heavy with menace, critically assessed the psychic potential of the clones, and Tychus Findlay... Tychus was testing the effectiveness of the new C-14 impulse rifles in the firing range, his booming laugh drowning out the sound of explosions.
· Finally, Nova Terra operated behind the scenes, her nascent ghost network already overlaying Data's administration to hunt for security flaws.
The Spartans he had summoned to counter the Orks had been promoted. They now formed his personal guard, the "Sentinels of Braveheart." Their Mjolnir armor had been reforged from beskar, granting it near-absolute resilience. Their design had evolved into a more imperial aesthetic, heavier and more intimidating, sporting a deep midnight blue color accentuated with gold trim. They were now one thousand strong, an unbreachable phalanx devoted to his protection.
Julius himself had reached a new peak. The purchase from the System of his baseline Astartes physique, coupled with his Beta-level Psyker power, made him a being apart. He wore his [Armor - Umoja "Protective Spirit" Suit - Customized], a masterpiece of reinforced Terran technology, and carried at his hip his [Lightsaber - Duelist's Blade - Blue Crystal], its softly humming blade a promise of death to his foes.
At the center of this maelstrom was his most loyal right hand: Data. The android from Star Trek managed the entirety of the administration, logistics, and coordination of this titanic project with perfect efficiency. His army of perfect clones, from the Todd units to the future Helldivers, was the backbone upon which everything rested.
This consolidated power would allow him to establish himself in the Warhammer 40,000 universe. But for now, a window of opportunity was open.
"Final report, Data?" asked Julius, his eyes fixed on the view of the nascent fleet in orbit.
"The Emperor of Mankind continues His Great Crusade with increased intensity, Captain. His efforts appear focused on locating His scattered Primarch sons. His attention is... elsewhere."
A cold smile spread across Julius's face. This was exactly what he had hoped for.
"Perfect. Let Him continue on this course. Let Him ignore us for now."
He turned towards the large viewport, contemplating the star around which his new worlds, his fortresses under construction, and his shipyards orbited.
"In the meantime, I will consolidate my power base."
The two months were over. The preparation phase was complete. The time had come to build, discreetly but inexorably, the foundations of an empire that could, one day, rival that of the Master of Mankind Himself.