From the transport, Raynor looked down at the hive city below. Countless citizens gathered in the streets, waving homemade flags and portraits, loudly chanting his name. News of Raynor's fleet docking at the starport had already reached the upper spires of Brevis. As the transport flew past, the cheers of the masses grew even more thunderous.
Mixed emotions stirred in Raynor's heart. Their demands were simple: to have enough to eat and to live in peace. For Sarah's sake, and by extension theirs, he had to survive this Tithe crisis.
The transport touched down on the Governor's Mansion landing pad. As Raynor stepped off, he found Carter and Leo already waiting for him. Carter was his usual self—clad in a sharp blue-grey military uniform, expressionless and laconic. Yet, upon seeing Raynor, an undeniable glint of joy flickered in his eyes.
Leo, on the other hand, had grown leaner and seemed much more composed.
"Carey! You're finally back!" Leo stepped forward quickly and gave Raynor a massive hug. "If you had stayed away any longer, I wouldn't have been able to hold on!"
"It's been hard on you," Raynor said with a smile, patting his back.
"The hard work is nothing," Leo released him, his face falling into a grimace. "It's the mental exhaustion. You have no idea what kind of life I've been living these past few months while you were gone."
The three men entered the Governor's Mansion and sat down in the drawing room. A maid served tea and refreshments before retreating and closing the door. Although Leo tried to maintain the dignified air of a family patriarch, he quickly dropped the facade in front of Raynor and Carter. Upon closer inspection, his once spirited face was lined with fatigue and the weight of experience. Though his hair was meticulously groomed, there were heavy dark circles under his eyes.
"Tell me, how is everything at home?" Raynor picked up his teacup, took a sip, and asked.
"How else could it be?" Leo sighed and began to pour out his grievances. "After you left, Luna's remaining cronies on Brevis started jumping at shadows, fanning flames everywhere in an attempt to seize power. I fought them for months and barely managed to stabilize the situation. And then there are those old fossils from the Adeptus Mechanicus—they're even harder to deal with. Every other sentence out of their mouths is about the 'Will of the Omnissiah.' This isn't allowed, that isn't allowed. If I hadn't been leaning on the residual prestige left by my grandfather, I doubt I could have held my own against them."
"Right now, I only control about half of the St. Gallus family's influence and assets. The other half is still in Luna's hands."
Raynor gave a nod of acknowledgment. This outcome was better than he had expected, considering Knight Houses were inherently dependent on the Mechanicus. For Leo to achieve a stalemate against Luna's faction—which had Mechanicus backing—based solely on his legitimate bloodline was impressive enough.
"But the worst part is, my grandfather still hasn't been found," Leo's tone turned somber. "I sent many people to search. We've looked across all of Brevis, but there's no word of him. It's as if he vanished into thin air."
Raynor nodded and offered some comfort. "Don't worry. Lord Caladogon is experienced; he won't fall easily. Perhaps he is currently recuperating in a secluded location."
"I hope so," Leo managed a weak smile. After a brief pause, he looked at Raynor and said seriously: "Carey, I won't say much else, but regarding this Tithe—don't worry. The St. Gallus family will give you our full support. While Knight Houses aren't required to pay the standard Tithe, we can provide grain, armaments, and funding if you need them. After all, we're friends."
Raynor felt a surge of relief. With the support of Leo and the St. Gallus family—even if it was only half of them—the pressure of the Tithe lessened considerably.
"Thank you, Leo," Raynor said sincerely.
"Don't mention it," Leo waved it off. "By the way, what about Luna? How is she? I heard her time at Karl-2 wasn't exactly smooth sailing."
At the mention of Luna, a look of schadenfreude appeared on Leo's face. Raynor chuckled and gave a brief summary of the events at Karl-2. When he mentioned how Luna had been beaten into a frantic retreat by the Greenskins, losing over half her fleet, Leo laughed until he doubled over.
"Hahaha! Serves her right! That's so satisfying!" Leo slapped his thigh. "She's usually so arrogant; she finally tripped up this time! Let's see how she tries to act high and mighty in front of us now."
Seeing Leo regain his liveliness, Raynor and Carter couldn't help but laugh along. The atmosphere in the drawing room lightened significantly.
That evening, Raynor hosted a grand welcoming banquet at the Governor's Mansion. He invited all the prominent figures he had befriended on Brevis: most of the guild masters from the Mid-city, nearly half of the scavenger alliance leaders from the Under-city, and several noble factions that supported him. There were also the aristocrats Leo had brought who followed the legitimate St. Gallus line.
The banquet hall was brilliantly lit, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. Everyone crowded around Raynor, offering compliments and words of praise. Their faces bore genuine smiles. To them, Raynor's victory was their own.
After several rounds of drinks and fine food, Raynor stood up and raised his glass. The banquet hall fell silent instantly as all eyes turned toward him.
"Everyone," Raynor's voice was dignified and resonant. "Today, I am very happy. Happy to return alive, and happy to see all of you again. The victory at Karl-2 was not mine alone; it belongs to all of us. It belongs to every soldier who fought a bloody battle on the front lines, every worker who contributed silently in the rear, and every citizen who believes in the Emperor and in Brevis. I thank you all!"
Raynor raised his glass and drained it in one gulp. Everyone followed suit, cheering loudly.
Once the cheering subsided, Raynor's expression turned solemn. "However, I must tell you some bad news," his voice lowered slightly. "The Imperial Tithe Collection Fleet is about to arrive at Brevis."
The hall went dead silent. A heavy shadow fell over every face. The Tithe was a mountain weighing on the head of every Imperial citizen. No one wanted to speak of it, yet everyone had to face it.
"I know that times are hard for everyone," Raynor looked at the crowd, his voice sincere. "Brevis has just endured war, and everything is in a state of neglect. We lack food, supplies, and manpower. But we must pay the Imperial Tithe. If we fail, what awaits us is the judgment of the Inquisition and a crusade from the Imperium. If that happens, Brevis is finished."
"Therefore, I hope we can work together to pull through this crisis. I have already consulted with Administrator Carter. Mineral and armament supplies will be the responsibility of the various guilds. The source of soldiers will primarily be handled by the Scavenger Alliance. As for the most scarce resource—grain—I hope our noble compatriots can lend a hand to help Brevis. As for the psykers that might be requisitioned, I will find a way to resolve that part myself. I won't make things difficult for you."
As Raynor's voice fell, a heavy silence descended upon the banquet hall. Everyone kept their heads down, whispering among themselves.
After a moment, the president of the Ryan Guild was the first to stand up. "Lord Governor, rest assured! Our Ryan Guild will fully cooperate!"
"The same goes for the Mel Guild. We guarantee the completion of the armament production tasks on schedule!"
"And our Scavenger Alliance—leave the matter of manpower to us!"
One after another, guild masters, independent noble groups, and scavenger alliance leaders voiced their support. They were the primary beneficiaries of Raynor's policies. Since taking office, Raynor had broken the monopolies of the Noble Council, improved treatment for workers and the Under-city, and preserved the estates of independent nobles. Now that Raynor faced a crisis, they felt it was their duty to assist.
The aristocrats glanced at each other, their faces etched with reluctance.
"Lord Governor, since you have put it this way, our St. Gallus family is willing to contribute a corresponding portion of our grain output!" Leo was the first to declare. Under Leo's unfriendly gaze, the other nobles were forced to stand one by one, expressing their willingness to provide a portion of their grain to support the Governor's Mansion.
Seeing that everyone had committed, Raynor breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you, everyone." Raynor raised his glass once more. "I promise you all that this is only a temporary hardship. Once we have fully integrated Karl-2 and reclaimed the agricultural world of Dorido... life on Brevis will only get better! Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Cheers erupted in the hall once more. Although the shadow of the Tithe still loomed over their hearts, they at least had a plan of action. With the Governor leading them, they believed they could weather this storm.
After the welcoming banquet ended and the guests were sent away, Raynor dragged his exhausted body back to his room. "Isuld" was already waiting for him, sitting quietly by the bed in a white nightgown.
"You must be tired." Sarah stepped forward and gently helped Raynor remove his coat. "I've prepared hot water for you; go take a bath."
"Alright," Raynor smiled.
Just then, an urgent message arrived. Raynor's heart, which had just begun to relax, instantly grew heavy again. He quickly threw his clothes back on and headed straight for the Brevis Starport.
Massive beams of light shot down from Brevis's orbit, illuminating almost the entire starport. This was followed by the deafening roar of engines descending from the sky. Raynor arrived at the starport's docking area and looked up.
Countless landing craft were launching from the warships of the Tithe fleet, flying toward the main starport. In orbit, even more warships were slowly drawing closer. Raynor had originally assumed the fleet's scale couldn't possibly exceed that of his own expeditionary force. Now, he realized he had been naive.
In the sky, there were at least three Imperial battleships, five or six cruisers, and an uncountable number of frigates and destroyers. They formed a canopy of steel that blotted out the sun and moon, casting the entire Brevis starport into deep shadow.
Raynor's expression shifted. He stood on the starport, staring blankly at the overwhelming fleet in the sky. His mind felt numb.
Was this... a fleet coming to collect taxes, or were they here to collect them?
Raynor gazed up at the completely obscured sky. In the pitch-black void of space, the massive Imperial fleet descended. The steel hulls blocked out the meager sunlight, plunging the main starport into cold shadow. Though the engines of the giant vessels kicked up waves of heat, the temperature at the starport felt freezing, and even the wind seemed to stagnate.
The lead battleship was the undisputed focal point of the assembly. It was a behemoth over eight kilometers long. The hull was finished in a luxurious dark gold, accented with elegant burgundy inlays. Complex scriptures and Imperial eagles were engraved along the edges of every armor plate, and countless perfectly cut gemstones were embedded at key nodes of the hull. Even under the dim lights of the starport, they refracted a dazzling radiance.
Even from dozens of kilometers away, Raynor could see the precision of the gemstone facets and the sheer extravagance of the materials used. This did not look like a warship designed for the stars; it looked like a mobile piece of royal art.
But Raynor's gaze locked onto the ship's weapon arrays, and his heart hammered against his ribs. This thing was no ornamental vase. Along the sides of the hull were one hundred and four macro-cannon arrays—fifty-two on each side.
The bore diameters were staggering; each gun was capable of tearing through the side armor of a cruiser with ease. Along the ship's centerline, three giant lances lay in wait, their muzzles glowing with a heat that seemed capable of piercing a planet. The adamantium ram on the bow was absurdly thick, capable of shattering asteroids.
"A Retribution-class battleship... no, it's a Victory-class built on a Retribution hull," Raynor whispered to himself, his fingers curling into a fist.
The Retribution-class was one of the oldest mainline battleship models in the Imperial Navy. They were precious assets, but as those in the know understood, the technology and production costs for such models had become major issues, making them extremely rare.
However, if a decommissioned Retribution hull fell into the hands of the Mechanicus, a thorough refurbishment and "modification" could transform it into a top-tier vessel that rivaled any other capital ship. These modified ships possessed terrifying maneuverability—on par with cruisers—and a firepower configuration designed to cure any fear of "insufficient force." They were the ultimate killing machines of the Imperial Navy.
Such a treasure was not something a mere tithe-collector from the Administratum could get his hands on. Without ironclad connections with the Martian Mechanicus, one could forget about modifying a Retribution-class; even touching the hull plating would be a pipe dream.
Names of several noble families famous for their luxury and martial might within the sector flashed through Raynor's mind. A bold hypothesis began to take shape, and his frown deepened.
Surrounding this flagship was a luxury escort formation. Two Mars-class battlecruisers flanked it like loyal squires, their macro-cannons and hangar bays clearly visible. Three Lunar-class cruisers and three Gothic-class cruisers formed the backbone of the fleet, their guns pointed toward the starport with undisguised menace.
Further out, countless Dauntless-class and Firestorm-class frigates circled like a wolf pack, forming an impenetrable defensive formation.
Raynor shook his head slightly. The scale of this fleet was far more luxurious and powerful than his expeditionary force and Luna's family fleet combined. It was more than enough to not only collect a tithe but to flatten the entire Calixis sector.
What made Raynor's skin crawl the most, however, was the vessel at the very rear of the formation. Floating there was a massive transport ship, entirely pitch-black, without any markings or lights. It was like a black hole, absorbing all light and energy. Its unremarkable exterior radiated an icy aura that made the soul tremble.
"They actually came..." Raynor muttered, his throat tightening.
He recognized that ship. A Black Ship of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica. A mobile cage responsible for collecting the psychic tithe across the galaxy and hunting down rogue psykers.
Aboard such a ship, there would inevitably be the most terrifying existence to any psyker: the Sisters of Silence. Known as the "Talon of the Emperor," they were the natural predators of psykers. Every member was a "Blank"—an untouchable whose very existence was an anti-psychic void.
They could poison, suppress, interfere with, and tear apart a psyker's connection to the Warp like a curse. This made them the ultimate weapon against psychic powers and demons, capable of effectively purifying the filth of Chaos. Simultaneously, they were tasked with piloting the "Black Ships" to collect the Tithe of psykers.