"Hmm... regarding what happened on the Canticle, do you still hate me?"
The air in the room suddenly went silent.
This was an extremely sharp and sensitive question. The grudge of a stolen wife and a usurped position—in any culture, this was an irreconcilable blood feud.
Gaus remained silent for a few seconds. He looked into Raynor's eyes; his gaze was calm and direct, without a trace of avoidance or resentment. Then, he laughed softly and shook his head.
"Heh. It was nothing more than a bit of wind and frost. I've long since ceased to care about those past events."
His tone was steady and sincere, devoid of pretense. In the depths of his heart, he had indeed found closure.
In the beginning, he certainly hated Raynor. He hated Raynor for taking his wife, Isod; he hated Raynor for snatching away the name that should have been his, along with the governorship; and he hated Raynor for destroying the life he had once envisioned. He had sworn countless times in the night to seek revenge and make Raynor pay.
But gradually, he discovered that his current life was the one he truly wanted.
He came from a lineage of Astra Militarum generals and had grown up listening to the heroic tales of his ancestors. His grandfather had been a general of the Imperium who died on the battlefield fighting the Great Enemy, sacrificing himself for the nation. His father, too, was a brave Colonel who fell in combat against xenos.
His dream had never been to be a mediocre noble son, a "pretty boy" living off a woman's influence, wasting his life in a cycle of decadence. His dream was to be like his ancestors—clad in armor, campaigning across the stars, achieving great deeds, and restoring the family's glory.
And Raynor had given him that opportunity.
Without Raynor, he might still be under Isod's shadow, living a muddled life and enduring the scorn of others. He would never have commanded thousands of ships and millions of men, nor experienced the fulfillment of certain victory and successful conquest. Now, he was the Deputy Commander of the Expeditionary Fleet, the number two figure standing above tens of thousands, second only to Raynor. He held immense prestige among the soldiers, and his name would be etched into the military history of Brevis, remembered by future generations.
All of this had been given to him by Raynor.
As for Isod? Hmph. That woman was merely a partner in mutual exploitation. From the moment she chose Raynor, any connection between them had been severed. He didn't care about her anymore.
Raynor looked into Gaus's eyes and nodded slightly. He believed Gaus was telling the truth, because Sarah was standing right behind him. Sarah's psychic vision could "smell" the scent of emotions. She could see that Gaus's emotions contained only the blue of tranquility and the gold of gratitude, without the slightest hint of the red associated with resentment or hatred.
Raynor stubbed out his cigar. The embers let out a final hiss in the metal ashtray before going dark. Outside the window, the sound of gunfire had thinned out considerably, with only the occasional dull thud of an explosion.
Afterward, he brought Gaus to the bridge and summoned all senior officers of the Expeditionary Fleet, announcing that there was an important matter to declare.
"You should all know about the Tithe by now."
Raynor's voice rose above the low hum of the instruments and the distant explosions. He walked to the massive star map table and placed a finger on the coordinates for Brevis. A heavy red circle had been drawn there, the ink still slightly smeared—clearly a rushed addition by the messenger from earlier.
"The collection fleet entered the Calixis Sector three days ago. The consuls under Carter say their vanguard ships have been spotted at the system's edge. They will likely reach Brevis before long."
Raynor's fingertip slid across the cold map to the location of Karl-2. This area had originally been a glaring red, representing hostile territory fully occupied by Greenskins. Now, amidst the vast red, there was finally a speck of Imperial gold, though the edges were still peppered with red dots indicating danger zones.
"Greenskin spores are hidden in every ventilation duct and every ruin on Karl-2. We must remain vigilant at all times. And 'the Great' Ragnar of Dorido will eventually learn that Karl-2 has been lost. He surely knows its importance and will undoubtedly launch a counter-offensive."
"If I take the main force away, this place will return to the Greenskins within half a month. The blood we've spilled and the lives we've lost over these past months would all be for nothing."
The surrounding officers exchanged glances, but no one dared to speak. Everyone knew this was a mess, and no one wanted to touch this hot potato. With insufficient resources and reinforcements, Karl-2 would have to face the counter-attack of billions of Greenskins alone. A single misstep meant a death without a grave, where not even bones would remain.
Several veteran noble officers of the Vanguard subconsciously shrank back, their eyes darting away for fear that Raynor would call their names.
Raynor took all of this in and said nothing. These "wine-skins and meat-bags" were always the first to scramble for credit and rewards, but when it came time to shoulder responsibility, they all turned into shrinking turtles. He withdrew his gaze and let it fall on Gaus once more.
"Therefore, I have decided to officially establish the position of Grand General of the Brevis Expeditionary Fleet."
"During the period I am away from Karl-2, the Grand General will act with all my authority, commanding all army and naval forces. He will have full responsibility for the defense, administration, and all matters great and small. No one shall disobey the Grand General's orders; violators will be dealt with under military law."
This sentence was like a heavy bomb exploding in the quiet bridge. Whispers instantly broke out like a swarm of buzzing flies.
"Grand General? Besides Lord Raynor, who has the qualifications?"
Following Raynor's gaze and his recent conversation with Gaus, they seemed to guess the answer. One after another, they turned their eyes toward Gaus.
Gaus's heart gave a violent leap, nearly jumping into his throat. He subconsciously straightened his back, his hand tightening around the grip of his sidearm until the veins on his forearm bulged with the effort. He could feel dozens of gazes focusing on him—some with surprise, some with doubt, some with jealousy, and some with disdain.
He had never imagined that the position of Grand General—second only to one—would fall upon his shoulders.
Six months ago, he was a "pretty boy" dependent on Isod, mocked by everyone—a useless wretch who couldn't even control his own destiny. And now, he was about to become the supreme commander of this expeditionary fleet of tens of millions, tasked with guarding this station newly reclaimed from the Greenskins.
Raynor ignored the commotion. He took a step forward and stood directly in front of Gaus. The bridge's broadcast system crackled to life without warning.
The song "Evernight Sleepless" instantly echoed throughout the bridge and every corner of the Peak Obsidian. It was an Imperial Anthem, played only on the most significant occasions. No one knew who had turned on the broadcast, and no one cared to find out. Everyone felt that, at this moment, no music could be more fitting.
Amidst the holy and soaring melody, Raynor's voice was clear and firm.
"Gaus Griffiths."
"Reporting, My Lord!" Gaus snapped to attention, offering a standard and flawless Aquila salute, his voice trembling slightly with emotion.
"Karl-2 is the spearhead of this expedition!" Raynor's eyes locked onto his. "Gaus, do you dare to shoulder the responsibility of Grand General?"
Gaus looked up. In those deep purple eyes, he saw no suspicion or testing, only heavy trust and expectation. A surge of warmth rushed from his heart to his head, washing away all unease and hesitation.
He remembered that night on the Canticle when Raynor stood before him, taking his name and his once-bleak life. He remembered finding himself through one blood-soaked battle after another at the Forbidden Wall of Brevis. It was Raynor who had given him a new life, turning him into a true soldier.
Now, an opportunity to restore his family's glory stood before him. How could he not be stirred?
Gaus took a deep breath, suppressing his roiling emotions. He saluted once more, his voice echoing through the bridge with powerful conviction.
"I dare!"
"I, Gaus Griffiths, hereby swear to the Emperor and to Lord Raynor! As long as I have a single breath left, as long as I stand on the soil of Karl-2, Karl-2 shall never fall into the hands of the Greenskins!"
"Should I break this oath, I shall submit to military law and return my soul to the Golden Throne!"
"Good!" Raynor shouted his approval, a rare smile appearing on his face. He reached out and clapped Gaus heavily on the shoulder—a gesture not too light, yet carrying the weight of a thousand tons. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you."
The anthem gradually faded. Raynor scanned the room, his gaze sweeping across the face of every officer.
"From this moment on, Gaus Griffiths is the Grand General of the Brevis Expeditionary Fleet. Everyone must obey his orders unconditionally. Any who disobey, regardless of rank or birth, shall be executed on the spot! Is that understood?"
"Yes, My Lord!" the officers shouted in unison. Though their voices varied in pitch, none dared to raise a further objection.
Raynor nodded, then turned to Gaus. "Follow me to the Captain's Quarters. There are things I must tell you in private."
He turned and walked toward the room, the ornate alloy doors sliding open behind him. Gaus followed, feeling the weight of many complex gazes on his back, but he no longer cared.
The doors to the Captain's Quarters closed, sealing out the noise from outside. The room was quiet, with only the ticking of a wall clock. The terrifying chitinous flesh that usually adorned the interior had been hidden away, making it look like an ordinary room.
Raynor took a bottle of strong liquor and two glasses from the cabinet. He poured a full glass for Gaus and then one for himself.
"Sit," Raynor gestured to the sofa. "There are no outsiders here. No need to be so formal."
Gaus took the glass and sat down. He gently swirled the orange liquid, the aroma of the alcohol filling the air. He took a sip; the spicy liquid slid down his throat, leaving a burning sensation that helped calm his excited nerves.
"Back on the bridge, there were too many eyes and ears. Some things were inconvenient to say," Raynor leaned back on the sofa in a relaxed posture. "I am leaving you the entire main force: the Peak Obsidian, twenty-eight frigates, all destroyers and transports, as well as the ground forces. Remember, your mission consists of only one word: Defend!"
"Do not take the initiative to attack. Do not hunt down the scattered Greenskins fleeing Karl-2, and do not think about clearing the entire station at once. Our current manpower cannot withstand any attrition."
"Contract all forces to the Core District, the Mid-level Platforms, and the three primary ports. Rely on existing fortifications to build a layered defense system. Especially the ports—they are our only lifeline and the primary target for any Greenskin assault. You must station your most elite troops there and set up numerous fire points. As long as the Greenskins cannot land and start a boarding action, we hold the advantage."
"I understand." Gaus nodded, set down his glass, and took a notebook from his pocket to record the instructions. He then shared his own plan.
"Near each hidden passage, I have already stationed two elite infantry regiments to seal off the exits leading to space. Each exit is equipped with flamethrowers and heavy bolter positions. If any Greenskin dares to show its head, they will be met with indiscriminate fire coverage. Additionally, I've arranged for patrols to circulate twenty-four hours a day. If any group of Orks numbering over a thousand is spotted, it will be reported immediately for a tactical strike."
"Mm, well done." Raynor nodded with satisfaction. "Regarding the engineering teams—Alderman has a foul temper and says nasty things, but his skills are among the best in Brevis. Be patient with him. Prioritize repairing the fusion reactors in the Core District and the life support systems, followed by the anti-aircraft cannons and orbital defense systems at the ports. Everything else, like dorms or canteens, can wait. This is wartime; everything serves the war effort."
Halfway through, Raynor leaned forward, his tone turning serious.
"There are two 'people' I am leaving for you. They are your greatest assets in holding Karl-2. One is Great Cold; you have met her, and I need not speak further of her strength. The other is her avatar, White Dew. She has been handling intelligence work in the rear and rarely shows her face."
Gaus blinked, confused. "White Dew? I've never heard that name."
"She is a very powerful psyker, proficient in telepathy, precognition, and mental interference," Raynor explained.
Sarah White Dew was a specialized Cerebrath modification Sarah had created to serve as the expeditionary fleet's Navigator. Usually, it stayed hidden within the Peak Obsidian's Captain's Quarters as the "biological mainframe" for the entire fleet. Sarah also used this high-IQ avatar whenever she played chess with Raynor.
"Not a single leaf falls on Karl-2 without her knowing," Raynor continued. "Gaus, remember: in the face of absolute power, any tactic is futile. If you encounter trouble you cannot solve or matters you cannot decide on, listen to Sarah. Her judgment is always more accurate and far-sighted than yours or mine."
"Stay alive. Holding Karl-2 is the most important thing."
Gaus did not hesitate and nodded firmly. "Yes, I will remember." He had never doubted the strength of the mysterious "xenos" surrounding Raynor.
Raynor looked at his honest gaze and felt a sense of relief in his heart.
"There is one more thing. It is top secret. Aside from you and me, no third person can know." Sarah, being a Tyranid, was naturally exempt from this restriction.
Raynor lowered his voice, leaning in closer.
"Among the first wave of Ork remnants that fled... some of them are ours."
Among the thousands of survivors from the Flaming Cherry Blossom tribe led by Tooth-More, there were one hundred and twenty gene-modified demi-Tyranid Orks serving as moles.
Gaus' eyes widened in disbelief. "Is... is that true?"
"Of course." Raynor nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Those Greenskins were created by me using special methods; their loyalty is absolute. They will follow the others back to Dorido and lurk near 'the Great' Ragnar."
In other words, any move Ragnar made would be known to Raynor immediately through the Hive Mind.
"When the time comes, I will notify you in advance. You just need to be ready for defense."
Gaus took a sharp breath. This was a stroke of genius! With these undercover agents, they effectively had a high-definition surveillance camera planted right next to Ragnar. The enemy would be in the light while they remained in the dark. The advantage of such an information gap on the battlefield was self-evident.
"Your wisdom is profound, My Lord!" Gaus praised sincerely. "With this intelligence, our chances of holding Karl-2 increase by at least thirty percent!"
"Don't get complacent," Raynor shook his head. "Ragnar didn't become the most powerful Ork Warlord in the Calixis Sector by name alone. His 'Mashed Brains' can send Orks into a berserk state, doubling their combat power. You must remember that. When the time comes, you must find a way to prevent them from boarding."
"I will," Gaus said solemnly.
Raynor stood up and extended his hand. "Alright, everything that needed to be said has been said. Karl-2 is in your hands."
"I will settle the matters at Brevis as quickly as possible and return with a repair fleet and reinforcements. At most, I will be back in a month."
Gaus stood as well and gripped Raynor's hand firmly. His hand was strong and warm.
"Rest assured, My Lord. I shall wait for your return."
When Raynor walked out of the Captain's Quarters, he did not return to the bridge. He headed straight for the mobile drydock, accompanied by his Rippers.
The drydock was a scene of frantic activity. Ground crews were performing final checks on three Turbulence-class frigates, refueling them, loading ammunition, and tuning the engines. Navy personnel in grey-white uniforms marched onto the ships in lines; their faces showed no fear, only resolute determination.
The engines of the three frigates had finished pre-heating, letting out a low roar. Blue tail-flames flickered in the darkness, illuminating the young faces nearby.
"My Lord, everything is ready. We are cleared for departure," the Captain of the Lightning said, saluting as Raynor approached.
Raynor nodded and looked back. Gaus was standing near the ship's entrance, watching him silently. Behind him was Karl-2, its lights gradually returning to the patterns of a human settlement.
Raynor waved his hand. Gaus waved back with equal force. No words were needed; everything was understood.
Raynor turned and boarded the frigate Lightning. At the captain's command, the hatches slowly sealed. The three Turbulence-class frigates drifted away from the port and accelerated into the pitch-black void.
Standing at the bridge's observation window, Raynor watched as Karl-2 grew smaller and the silhouette of the Peak Obsidian blurred. Eventually, they became mere pinpricks of light in the cosmos before vanishing into the dark.
"Enter the Warp," Raynor withdrew his gaze and ordered in a deep voice.
"Yes, My Lord! Initiating Warp Engines!"
"Geller Field activated! Sacred energy flowing smoothly!"
"Navigator in position. The Light of the Astronomican is stable! Coordinates locked: Brevis Orbit!"
"Three, two, one... Warp jump!"
A slight but distinct vibration pulsed through the ship as the space surrounding the frigates began to warp violently. A massive rift, shimmering with sickly purple and blood-red light, tore open in the black universe. On the other side of the rift lay endless chaos and madness. It looked like the gaping maw of a demon, waiting for lost lambs to fall into its trap.
The three frigates entered the rift one by one, disappearing into the depths of the Immaterium.
Viscous, multi-colored chaotic energy surged in the void, forming all sorts of eerie shapes. Countless hideous, twisted demonic faces flickered within the strange mists, whispering temptations. They reached out with claws, clawing at the frigates' shields, trying to seep inside and devour the souls of everyone on board.
However, the moment they touched the Geller Field, a cold and domineering purple shadow descended. The souls that brushed against this purple shadow let out blood-curdling shrieks before crumbling into ash and dissipating.
Warp travel is roughly twelve times faster than real-space travel. A journey that would normally take three days and nights in real-space could be completed in just six hours within the Warp.
But Warp travel remains one of the most dangerous endeavors in the galaxy. Warp storms can appear at any moment, dragging ships into unknown times and spaces, leaving them lost forever in chaos. Furthermore, the corruption of Chaos is omnipresent; it twists the mind, amplifying desire and fear until even the most devout believer falls.
There are also countless Chaos pirates and demonic warbands roaming the Warp, searching for prey. That messenger who had rushed from Brevis was incredibly lucky to have arrived safely given how the Warp storms were raging. Out of ten ships taking that route, nine would typically vanish forever.
Yet everyone on the Lightning remained exceptionally calm. The crew went about their duties, operating the instruments methodically without a trace of fear. They knew the Governor's ship was the safest ship in existence.
Sarah Winter Solstice stood in the center of the bridge, eyes closed, her body radiating a faint purple glow. Since Sarah White Dew had been left on Karl-2, Sarah had to create a new avatar to serve as the Navigator.
To a casual observer, Sarah Winter Solstice looked like an ordinary human female, but beneath her exaggerated bronze helmet lay a highly developed brain organ similar to that of a Genestealer Patriarch. Her Hive Mind could pierce through the heavy mists of the Warp, accurately locking onto the coordinates of Brevis without the slightest deviation.
Moreover, the frigate was protected not only by the standard Imperial Geller Field but also by the Shadow in the Warp cast by Sarah. While the Geller Field blocked the physical encroachment of Warp energy, the Shadow in the Warp formed an absolute wall that could not be bypassed. It completely shielded the ship from Warp connections, ensuring that the whispers of Chaos and the lures of demons could not penetrate the hull.
More importantly, the Shadow in the Warp completely masked the fleet's emotional signature. To the perception of Chaos pirates and demons, these three frigates were like pockets of non-existent air. They couldn't even detect the fleet's presence.
"The Tyranids truly are the galaxy's most perfect predators," Raynor mused, leaning back in the Captain's chair and watching the churning clouds of Chaos outside the window.
The Imperium of Man had spent tens of thousands of years and sacrificed countless Navigators and Astropaths, yet they had never perfectly solved the problems of Warp travel. The Tyranids, however, achieved this with ease, relying on their innate biological gifts.
Just then, a palm-sized Ripper crawled out of Raynor's sleeve. It had a smooth pink carapace and sharp mandibles. It hopped onto Raynor's lap and looked up, its eyes flickering with the same faint purple glow as Sarah's. This was Sarah's current vessel of consciousness.
"You look tired," the Ripper spoke in a cold yet caring voice. "Your heart rate is fast, and your blood pressure is high."
Raynor smiled, reaching out to gently stroke the smooth, cool carapace of the Ripper.
"I'm alright," he sighed. "Just a bit annoyed. These Imperial messes never seem to end. We just stabilized the situation, then had to fight Greenskins; just finished fighting Greenskins, and now the tithe collector is here. There's never a moment of peace."
"Then don't bother with it," the Ripper tilted its head, its tone very serious. "We have the Swarm, we have Karl-2, and we have a constant supply of biomass. We can grow stronger and larger. Why should we listen to those weak humans? They only take from you and never offer any help."
"Just rebel against them. If anyone objects, eat them. If they send an expedition to punish us, eat their fleet and eat their planets. That way, no one can bully you anymore."
Raynor chuckled helplessly. Sarah had said things like this countless times. He was long accustomed to her straightforward way of thinking. In her world, there were only two kinds of people: Raynor, and people who could be eaten.
"You make it sound too simple," Raynor gently flicked the Ripper's head. "The Imperium isn't that easy to rebel against. With our current strength, we are just a slightly larger ant in their eyes. If they wanted to, they could send an Interstellar Fleet at any time to turn Karl-2 into glass and chase us into deep space. Besides, the soldiers following me and the civilians on Brevis are all human."
"They believe in the Emperor and are loyal to the Imperium. If I rebel, the generals under me would be the first to turn against me. We would collapse from within before the Imperium even lifted a finger."
The Ripper fell silent for a moment, its small claws restlessly scratching at Raynor's trousers.
Raynor seemed to realize something. "Sarah... what did you do to those officers?"
"The noble commanders... I have hypnotized them," she whispered, her voice sounding a bit guilty. "They don't know how to do anything except wait in the rear for credit and boast. I've been annoyed with them for a long time. So, while they were sleeping, I used my psychic powers to give them a shallow hypnosis. Now, they will just listen and won't cause trouble. This way, they won't notice when the Swarm recycles biomass."
Raynor's eyelid twitched violently. At least it was just hypnosis. He had thought Sarah might have impulsively dragged them all off to feed the bugs. Although those noble commanders were useless gluttons, they were representatives sent by the various noble houses of Brevis. If they died under suspicious circumstances, it would surely trigger the suspicions of the Noble Council and bring unnecessary trouble.
"You scared me," Raynor breathed a sigh of relief, patting his chest. "Next time you do something like this, you must tell me in advance, alright? Don't act on your own."
"Oh," the Ripper lowered its head, responding with a hint of grievance.
"But you don't need to feel bad," Raynor said, looking at its pitiful appearance and unable to keep from laughing. "Actually, if we want them to disappear, there are cleaner and more logical ways to go about it."
"Hm? What ways?" The Ripper immediately looked up, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"When Ragnar attacks, we just find a reason to send them to the front lines to die." Raynor's tone was relaxed. As the Supreme Commander of the fleet, such a thing was easy to arrange. "When they die at the hands of the Greenskins, no one can say anything. Their families might even thank us for giving them the opportunity to die for the country."
The Ripper's eyes shone like two glittering purple jewels.
"Oh! So that's how it works!" It wagged its tail excitedly. "That's so clever. Why didn't I think of that? I'll do that next time!"
Raynor watched its realization and couldn't help but laugh. Although Sarah was a powerful Tyranid consciousness and the sovereign of billions, in some ways, she was as simple as a child.
But that was fine, Raynor thought. In this dark, filthy 41st millennium, full of betrayal and lies, it was a stroke of luck to have someone who trusted you unreservedly and cared for you with their whole heart.
After the laughter, Raynor's expression turned serious again.
"Actually, there's one more important reason why I'm unwilling to betray the Imperium." He looked into the Ripper's eyes and said earnestly, "I don't want to lose myself. I am human. I was born human, my parents were human, and my friends are human. I eat human food, speak human language, and live a human life."
"If I betray my own race for power and strength, and turn into a monster that knows only consumption and slaughter, then I am no longer Raynor. I would just be a soulless husk, a beast driven by instinct. In that case, even if I ruled the entire galaxy and became the master of the universe, what would be the point? I wouldn't be me anymore."
The Ripper listened quietly, saying nothing. Sarah, who usually seemed a bit lost when faced with such complex logic, actually showed a flash of understanding and deep empathy in her eyes this time.
As the first independent consciousness to break away from the cold Hive Mind, she understood the feeling of losing oneself all too well. Once, she was just a insignificant puppet controlled by the Hive Mind. She had no thoughts, no feelings, no name, and no self. Her existence was solely to execute the orders of the Hive Mind—to consume all biomass and assimilate all life.
Until she met Raynor.
Raynor gave her a name and the most precious gift of all: freedom. He gave her the right to think independently. She had tasted delicious food, felt the warmth of the sun, and experienced the happiness of loving and being loved. She never wanted to return to that abyss of consciousness filled only with coldness, emptiness, and endless hunger. That feeling was like having your soul torn apart piece by piece and then completely erased. It was ten thousand times more terrifying than death.
"I understand," the Ripper gently nuzzled Raynor's palm, its voice soft. "Whatever you want to do, I will be with you. As long as I can be with you, anything is fine."
Sarah had already made up her mind. If you want to be an Imperial Governor, I will help you govern Brevis; if you want to fight Greenskins, I will help you kill them all; if you want to deal with those tax collectors, I will help you throw them all to the bugs.
Raynor felt a warmth in his heart and pulled the small Ripper into his arms.
Just then, the frigate suddenly jolted. The twisted Chaos scenery outside the window vanished instantly. Piercing, warm sunlight flooded through the viewport and onto Raynor's face, dispelling the chill and darkness of the Warp.
"My Lord!" the Captain's excited voice crackled over the comms, carrying undeniable thrill. "We have successfully reached Brevis orbit!"
Clutching the Ripper, Raynor walked quickly to the viewport. Below, the familiar blue-grey planet hung quietly in the black void of space.
On the edge of the Karl-2 system lies a desolate sector filled with floating space debris.
The Measure of Discipline hung silently in the darkness. Its hull was marred by scorched shell craters and sparking gashes—scars left from its previous frantic retreat. Standing at the bridge's observation window, Luna stood with her back to her officers, staring at the distant space station that had just been re-integrated into the Imperial domain. Her fingernails dug deep into her palms.
She had lost. She had lost utterly and completely.
She had spent so long meticulously planning this expedition, mobilizing nearly all of her family's elite forces, and even personally piloting a Knight suit into danger. She thought she could seize Karl-2 in one fell swoop and hold this strategic stronghold firmly in her grasp. But in the end, she had only paved the way for Raynor.
To this moment, she couldn't understand how Raynor had done it. How had he slipped into the Greenskin nest undetected? How had he incited a civil war between two Ork Warlords and managed to calculate her into the mess as well?
Finally, when she, Seth, and Chandler had fought each other to a standstill, Raynor had appeared with his expeditionary force like a victor to leisurely harvest the fruits of battle.
According to scout reports, Raynor's expeditionary fleet suffered a casualty rate of less than ten percent. Meanwhile, her own fleet's casualty rate had exceeded sixty percent. Two of her five cruisers had sunk, half of her frigates were lost, and her ground forces were nearly annihilated. Of the three million house troops she had brought, fewer than one million would return alive.
"My Lady, what do we do next?" an adjutant asked cautiously behind her, his voice heavy with fatigue and fear. "Karl-2 has fallen entirely into the hands of Carey von. Our supplies are running low. If we stay here much longer, I'm afraid..."
Luna did not turn around. Her gaze remained fixed on the direction of Karl-2, her eyes filled with resentment and a hint of dread. She remembered the bold words she had spoken before departing. Now, she didn't even have the face to approach Karl-2.
At that moment, a sorcerer dressed in black robes, his face painted with eerie Tzeentchian runes, walked quickly to Luna's side.
"My Lady, there is urgent news," the sorcerer's voice was as harsh as a crow's squawk. "Word has come from Brevis. The Imperial Tithe Collection Fleet has entered the Calixis Sector."
"The Tithe?" Luna turned around abruptly, a sharp light flickering in her eyes.
"Yes, My Lady." The sorcerer nodded, pulling a Codex of Flesh and Blood from his robes. The book flipped open automatically without the use of hands. "I peered through the 'Thousand Eyes.' This Tithe fleet is exceptionally large. I estimate the burden will be too heavy for Brevis to bear."
Luna took the codex. Looking at the spectral silhouettes of the fleet emerging from the pages, a cold smile spread across her face.
Excellent. Fortune was favoring her after all!
Raynor, did you think you won? Taking Karl-2 was only your first step. The real trouble was just beginning.
Especially now, with the outbreak of the 13th Black Crusade, the destruction of the Cadian Gate, and the opening of the Great Rift, the entire Segmentum Obscurus was in total chaos. The Imperial war machine was grinding at full speed, and the tithe collection for various planets had become more ruthless than ever.
Brevis was already impoverished. It had just suffered a Greenskin invasion, resulting in food shortages and a dwindling population. Now, having to cough up a massive amount of resources for the Tithe would cost them an arm and a leg.
This was the perfect opportunity to bring Raynor down. If something went wrong with the Tithe, Raynor's position as Governor would be unstable. She could then unite with the nobles who were dissatisfied with him and take the chance to strike. She would surely drag him down from his throne.
Therefore, she had to return to Brevis immediately. More importantly, her family's assets and industries were still on Brevis. She didn't believe for a second that Leo, that green boy, could protect the family's interests against those predatory Imperial tax collectors. That fool would be lucky not to squander the entire estate.
"Relay my orders," Luna's voice regained its firmness. "Ready all ships. In ten minutes, we enter the Warp to return to Brevis."
"My Lady, Warp currents are surging everywhere. Warp travel is currently extremely dangerous..." the adjutant tried to intervene.
"Dangerous?" Luna sneered. "I am a Champion of Tzeentch, protected by the Lord of Change. The storms of the Warp cannot harm me!"
"Yes, My Lady!" The adjutant didn't dare say more and immediately went down to relay the orders.
The engines of the Measure of Discipline roared, and blue tail-flames lit up the darkness. Luna looked toward Karl-2 one last time, her gaze icy.
Raynor, we shall meet at Brevis. This time, I will make you pay a devastating price.
Within the Warp, blue Tzeentchian flames enveloped Luna's fleet as it streaked through the distorted chaotic energy. As a "favorite" of the Lord of Change, Luna's success rate in Warp navigation was far higher than that of ordinary Imperial fleets. She bypassed all lethal Warp storms and Chaos pirate ambushes. In less than ten hours, she emerged from the Warp and arrived in the Brevis system.
At this point, only half a day had passed since Raynor's frigate Lightning had reached Brevis orbit.
At the Brevis orbital starport.
Inside the bridge of the frigate Lightning, Raynor was looking down at the familiar blue-grey planet, his brow still furrowed.
Just then, Sarah's voice echoed in Raynor's mind.
"Raynor... down there... there are many happy emotions." Sarah's voice carried a childlike curiosity. She had never been interested in human joy or sorrow and couldn't understand it.
But this time, she could clearly feel that the entire Brevis hive city was blanketed by a massive surge of joy. In this desolate hive world, where there was usually only despair and pain, this was only the second time she had felt such an emotion.
The first time was when Raynor had formed the Vanguard and returned in triumph after fighting the Greenskins outside the Forbidden Wall, which had eased the famine in the lower levels.
"And there is the scent of hope," Sarah added, though it was faint.
Raynor paused, then realized what was happening. "It's because of the news from Karl-2." He smiled, a warmth welling in his chest. He had thought the news hadn't reached Brevis yet. Unexpectedly, Isod had already made the news public.
Sarah tilted her head, peeking her tiny head out of Raynor's sleeve to look at the smile on his face. She didn't understand why humans would feel happy because of others' happiness, but she knew that as long as Raynor was happy, she was happy.
"As long as you are happy," Sarah gently nuzzled Raynor's arm.
Raynor felt a warmth in his heart and rubbed her tiny head. Indeed, his nerves, which had been tense because of the Tithe, relaxed significantly after sensing the pure joy and hope below.
For the past three months, he had carried an immense burden, leading the expeditionary force to Karl-2. For countless days and nights, he had exerted every effort and moved with extreme caution, all for this day.
He had not failed the people of Brevis, nor had he failed Sarah.
One day before Raynor's return.
Inside the Governor's Mansion, within the office of Chief Administrator Carter.
Isod stood quietly by the window, gazing out at the hive city. She wore a simple, elegant white dress, her long golden hair cascading over her shoulders. Her face was devoid of expression. To outsiders, she was a silent, cold-tempered Governor's wife, and a psyker possessed of prophetic abilities.
During the Governor's previous peril at St. Gallus Castle, it was Lady Isod who had detected the anomaly; otherwise, the Governor might have fallen. But no one knew that this beautiful woman was actually a perfect puppet created by Sarah. All her thoughts and actions were remotely controlled by Sarah.
"Lady Isod, is what you say true?" Carter stood before her, his voice trembling with excitement. "Did Lord Raynor really take Karl-2?"
Isod turned her head slowly, her voice cold and ethereal. "Yes. I have already seen what has transpired around the Governor. He has successfully reclaimed the Karl-2 space station. The Ork Warlord occupying it is dead, the expeditionary force has suffered minimal casualties, and the Governor will return soon."
Carter let out a long breath of relief, his face lit with undeniable joy. The heart that had been suspended in his throat for months finally settled. Only he knew how difficult life at the Governor's Mansion had been during this time.
Raynor had taken almost all the elite troops with him, leaving the Governor's influence within Brevis hollow. The nobles were restless, Greenskin raids never ceased, and ever since Raynor was ambushed by the Great Enemy, more and more Doomsday Cults and Chaos sects had surfaced on Brevis.
Now, Raynor was victorious. Karl-2 was reclaimed. The pressure on the Governor's Mansion vanished instantly.
"Great, this is truly great!" Carter stood up, agitated. "The Emperor protects! Lord Carey is indeed the Emperor's chosen!" He paused, looking at Isod. "Lady Isod, do you think it is appropriate for me to announce this news now?"
"It is," Isod nodded. "Announcing it now will stabilize the people's hearts. Furthermore, the Tithe fleet is about to arrive. The higher Raynor's prestige, the more bargaining chips we have."
"I thought so as well," Carter agreed. "I will arrange it immediately. I shall broadcast this good news to all of Brevis!"
Soon, the loudspeakers in the upper levels of Brevis began to blare.
"Citizens of Brevis, this is Chief Administrator Carter! I now announce momentous news to everyone! Our Governor, the Emperor's chosen, Lord Carey von, leading the Purge Expeditionary Fleet, has achieved a decisive victory at Karl-2! We have successfully reclaimed the Karl-2 space station. The evil Ork Warlord, Iron-Claw Chandler, has been purified by the Emperor's wrath! Before long, the Governor will return in triumph. The Emperor protects! Glory to Brevis!"
Carter's excited voice reached every corner of the upper spire. This news traveled rapidly from the most noble aristocratic spires down to the filthiest bottom-level slums. After a brief silence, the entirety of Brevis erupted.
In the slums, countless ragged civilians rushed out of their dilapidated shacks. They waved their arms, shouting Raynor's name. Many among them had lost family to the Greenskins. Now, Raynor had avenged them.
Even in the noble spires, many aristocrats breathed a sigh of relief. Although they harbored resentment toward Raynor, they knew his actions secured their safety and interests. If Karl-2 remained in Greenskin hands, those xenos would always hold the initiative.
"Carey von! The Emperor's Chosen!" "Long live the Governor!" "Long live Brevis!"
At this moment, the name Carey von became a pillar of faith for the people of Brevis. His prestige reached an unprecedented height, making him the most revered Governor in centuries, second only to the planet's founder.
In the secret meeting room of the Noble Council, however, the atmosphere was somber. Dozens of old-money nobles sat in their chairs, faces grim, sighing in frustration.
"It's over. It's completely over," a fat noble grumbled, taking a large gulp of wine. "Carey von took Karl-2. His prestige is at its peak. We have no chance of toppling him now."
"Indeed," another noble sighed. "Now, all of Brevis worships him like a god. We couldn't beat him before, and now those commoners support him even more. And the Tithe fleet is arriving soon. Just watch—Raynor will surely use this chance to fleece us. Grain, manpower, armaments... he will demand everything."
"What else can we do?" an old noble shook his head helplessly. "You can't kick against the pricks. Now, we can only cooperate. Otherwise, he'll just slap a 'traitor to the Imperium' label on us and we'll be finished."
While the nobles lamented, at the Brevis Main Starport, the frigate Lightning sailed into the harbor, docking steadily in the expeditionary fleet's private berth. The hatch opened, and Raynor, accompanied by Sarah, stepped off the ship.
The first important official to discover Raynor's return was the Naval Commander of the Brevis PDF. Six months ago, when Raynor first took office, this commander had been utterly dismissive of him, viewing Raynor as a lucky brat who understood nothing of military or political affairs. He had even shown his disdain openly.
Now, seeing Raynor again, the smile on his face was as bright as a wrinkled pug's. He jogged up to Raynor, snapped a standard military salute, and bowed nearly ninety degrees.
"Lord Governor, you have finally returned! Welcome back in triumph!" The Naval Commander's voice was filled with blatant flattery. "On behalf of all the naval officers and men of Brevis, I offer you our highest respects! You are truly great to have reclaimed Karl-2. You are an angel sent by the Emperor to save us!"
Raynor gave him a fleeting glance and said nothing. He had seen many such opportunistic sycophants.
"Commander," Raynor's voice was calm and indifferent. "The starport's defense is in your hands. Increase security and do not let any suspicious personnel pass."
"Yes! Yes! Rest assured, my Lord!" Marcus bowed and scraped. "I will personally supervise the patrols to ensure no issues arise!"
Raynor ignored him further and walked straight toward the private transport parked nearby. He had no time for these superficial pleasantries. The Tithe fleet was coming, and time was short. He had to return to the Mansion, inventory all resources, and prepare for the tax collectors.
More importantly, he had to mobilize the Wildmen of Brevis to scrub away all traces of Tyranid activity. Within this Tithe fleet, there might be Black Ships from the Adeptus Astra Telepathica. The Sisters of Silence aboard those ships were the Imperium's most professional psyker-hunters. Their noses were sharper than hounds'; if they discovered the presence of the Swarm, the consequences would be unthinkable.
The transport roared into the sky, flying toward the Governor's Mansion.