How far have you fallen by rejecting the light of Terra?

Imperial Palace | Terra

- Greetings. Let us begin. - The high ranks of the state were seated around the familiar long table that had been the site of meetings for many years. A place where many things have been decided... What can you tell me about the border, Tribune?

- Sir, we could not eliminate Prefect Rasla during his speech. That would have turned the people even more against us," the man in the atypical black uniform with the insignia of the Guard went to the table and put down a pile of reports.

- Does it make sense to kill him now? - I looked at him, for his men were now playing a very important role.

- Unfortunately, no. I have information that he is acting on behalf of the Segmentum fleet. The Admiral is most likely the real instigator. That makes sense; he's from the same noble family as the executed Brunei. But he has no power over the planet, so he is helped here by the Prefect's naivety and infirmity.

- That's not good. What do we know about the rebels?

- Besides the three legions of traitors who have defected to the Rebellion and sworn allegiance to their new power, two defensive fleets created in this segment have joined the uprising. The third fleet immediately rejected the traitors' offer, remained loyal to the rebels, and is now being pulled towards the border with another segment, where our fleets are already waiting. However, their forces are growing by the day. The Prefect has recognised all the illegal armed groups involved in piracy, and now they are gathering in large numbers.

- How quickly can the fleet cut them off and set up a blockade?

- Already done, my lord. - Master Stellar took the floor, "We have sealed off all neighbouring systems, but there have still been several incidents.

- Such as? - I looked at the Admiral with interest.

- Once, we detected a large convoy of trading houses entering the segment. Before we could stop them, several ships were able to make the crossing. The raiding parties found many assault rifles and light equipment in the holds. Declarations clarified that the Admiral had purchased all this under the pretext of arming militia and planetary defence units before the mutiny began. Now, despite the protests of the Houses, the entire shipment has been confiscated.

- All right, continue the blockade and stop anything moving in. - Turning to the Fabricator, I continued, "What about the Adepts in the sector?

- Most of those serving on the ships are dead. The rest have managed to break through to the forge in the segment and are now holding their defences there. They will only be able to use many of the ship's systems, especially the molecular weapons, with help from their brethren. Still, they should be able to use the main weapons. The rebels are now besieging the World Forge to obtain its secrets.

- My men report seeing several captured Adepts on those ships," the Tribune commented.

- Then the situation is worse than expected. The Brothers' faith is unbreakable, but I don't know what they can do to them, so the weapons can't be ruled out now.

After thinking for a few minutes, I turned to Master Stellar.

- What is the size and strength of their fleet?

- Their combined fleet is about a thousand ships, but it's mostly light corvettes and destroyers. Only five battleships, but two of them have molecular weapons.

- Then we'll have to sacrifice those battleships. Tribunus, I want your men to prepare a diversion and detonate those weapons when they attack.

- To be fulfilled. And, Overlord, we ask that you grant us the right to exterminate the Segmentum worlds should they refuse to surrender.

I sat momentarily, trying to comprehend what I was asked to do. Slowly turning to the Tribune, I decided to clarify the situation:

- You are asking me... to sign the death warrant of fifty billion Imperial subjects?

- It's a coercive measure, my lord. Submit or die. It's the only way.

- No, I did not spend all these years building the Empire to take the lives of billions with a wave of my hand. Only one pirate world has been purged, a hotbed of heresy within the Empire. All other worlds have been destroyed by the darkness that has overtaken them. But the Imperial Fleet has never destroyed an Imperial world if it is inhabited by the subjects of Terra. Once in orbit after a victory in space, they threaten to destroy the planet and wait. The humans themselves will turn in all the rebels. The commoners will likely have been deceived, succumbing to provocation and rumour. But the upper echelons must be executed and guarded by proven specialists from other parts of the Empire. Preferably, the fate of the top officers, the Admiral and the Prefect should be shown for everyone's edification. - After taking a second to calm myself, I continued, "Which legions?

- "The Sons of Archas and the Eternal Thousand have claimed new territories. Their territories border the Segmentum, and they've been competing for them for a long time. Their feud is especially strong now because of recent events.

- Interesting. - I got up and went to the window. The sun slowly sank over the horizon, painting the city a bright scarlet," Let them settle their differences in battle. Give them my orders: let them land on the worlds captured by the traitor legions and take them over. Whoever does it better and faster will get the captured planets.

- Done," the men rose from the table and waited for my word.

- That is all for now. The next discussions will begin after the rebellions have been suppressed. Everyone is dismissed. We will attack at the signal of the Tribune's men," Karos approached me as they waited for everyone to leave the room.

- My lord, we have discovered an interesting survivor of the incident. I would like you to decide his fate.

- Is it that important?

- Yes, I will meet you on Mars when you arrive...

Markarth Segmentum Rising

Hundreds of ships emerged from the breach and lined up in battle order. Thousands of small and medium support ships and dozens of battleships of every variety. The largest of these was the flagship of the invasion fleet, carrying Admiral Valerius, a commander appointed by Terra herself.

The Admiral sat in the captain's chair, reflecting on the battle as he gazed at the image of the system. The Rebel fleet stood united in a "pile" in orbit around the central planet. On the other hand, the Imperial fleet was moving in an even formation to meet it.

- What's the scan?

- No traps detected. No minefields or stations or anything," said one of the officers as he stepped away from the radar.

- This is a circus..." The Admiral rubbed a hand over his face to cheer him up, "Give me an update on their formation and contact the agents on the ships as well.

- Will do, sir. - The officer's fingers raced over the keypad, and soon, a projection of the future battlefield appeared in the centre of the room, "Agents report that the attack will occur when the cannons are charged; remote detonation won't do much.

- I hope they know what to do, or a lot of our people won't be coming back. - The man rose from his throne and headed for the exit," Cercius said, taking my place. Stay on course for the enemy, and let me know when we get close. - In response, one of the senior officers stretched out and pounded his fist into his chest before taking the Admiral's place.

The man paced the empty corridor heavily, each step bringing him closer to his quarters. Soon the scanners beeped, and the door let him into his abode. After standing for a few seconds, the man slowly approached the safe built into the wall. He reached out his hand and punched in the code after a brief hesitation. The locks clicked, and the door slowly slid aside. Inside were several items of extraordinary value to the man.

The Admiral was the first to pull a sword in an ornate sheath. Pulling the sword out, he gently ran his hand over the icy steel. His fingers slowly traced the words engraved on the blade, checking its sharpness. He had been given this sword by the Master himself for a brilliant operation during the Battle of Sarium Segmentum. He had managed to steer a ship away from the clutches of a huge pirate fleet, preventing it from being captured. Then, when reinforcements arrived, he could destroy the scum's flagship, even though it was superior to the Admiral's old ship. Securing the sword to his belt, the man moved on to the next item.

It turned out to be a pile of cloth which, when opened, revealed a beautiful scarlet cloak with the Imperial Eagle, the symbol of nobility, embroidered in gold. The cloak had been passed down to the leaders of her noble family for hundreds of generations. And now it belonged to him, the last of the family. He slung it behind his back and fastened it to his armour with two gilded buckles. To ensure it would not interfere with his movements, he glanced into the vault, where a small coffin stood alone against the wall. Carefully, with trembling hands, the young Admiral took it out and placed it on the table. Rough fingers tried several times to fumble with the small lock, and soon they succeeded. The lid swung open, revealing its contents.

A small medallion shaped like a bird that had once lived south of Terra, with long dried blood stains on the surface. Some elements of the design were gone, and many were bent. He remembered giving this medallion to his younger sister for her birthday. How she always wore it. It was the ornament that had given the little girl her name - Avis, the bird. He remembered his family, the big house on a high cliff, with a beautiful view of the ocean and the moons, which were especially beautiful in the evening, in the rays of the setting sun. How good it felt to be in that comfortable house, with his sister sitting beside him, loving his brother and being so proud of him. How his parents would come and listen to his stories of the service. And he remembered the mutiny. Thousands of prisoners, the lowest scum of the Empire, had broken out of the underground colonies and mines, and soon the whole planet was in flames. He rushed home with his loyal legionnaires and saw his sister crucified. She was dragged to the cross, naked, with many wounds all over her body. Her life was hanging by a thread. And worst of all, she saw him, looking into his soul with her blue eyes. Her parched lips begged him again and again for help. He lunged forward, a hundred yards from his target. The sword glinted over the distraught crowd, counting its prey with each stroke. He was a young captain then and felt no pain, saw nothing but it. And like a sledgehammer, the words of the tactical techno-mind hit him...

...authorised an orbital strike...

...it was a few seconds too late. She understood everything and only smiled at him with what was left of her strength. The legionnaires who had seized him dragged the captain to cover, and a moment later, the ground was shaken by fire from the heavens.

He walked through the craters, covered in ash and blood, and thought about his future life. In one day, he had lost everything that filled his soul. Then, his gaze caught a glimmer in the bloody white mud beneath his feet. The little locket was all that was left of his past and his family.

Those moments floated before his eyes like a bad and long-ago dream, but the locket proved otherwise. It was then, holding the only memory of his sister in his hands and swallowing his tears, that he had sworn before the Emperor that he would destroy all of his foreign and domestic enemies. He had volunteered to lead the fleet of punishment, to take revenge... And now the captain was closer than ever.

Hiding the jewel in his glove, he made a beeline for the exit...

- Five hundred kilometres to rebel gun range," the navigator reported.

- Any word from the agents? - The Commander tapped his fingers on the armrest under the moment's strain.

- Yes, they assure us that everything is going according to plan and we have nothing to worry about.

- I hope so. Adjutant," the young officer stretched to his full height, "summon the Grant Adept to the bridge as soon as possible. - As soon as the messenger had disappeared behind the door, the Admiral went back to planning the battle with the rest of the senior officers.

Soon the Adjutant returned, accompanied by a figure in scarlet robes. At their appearance, all present bowed and returned to their duties.

- You called for me, Admiral? - The Adept approached the throne almost intimately.

- Yes, I would like you to make recommendations on how to deal with these ships," images of the large rebel ships took the place of the map. They showed basic information and the names of these ships. The Adept approached the projections and examined them from all sides.

- Are you interested in the ships with the molecular disruptor?

- No, they have a separate plan for them. I'm concerned about the rest of their fleet," the Admiral also stood up and approached the projection.

- Ancient ships," Grant revealed after a moment.

- Is that a bad thing?

- No, they're the second or third wave of creation. These," he moved his hand closer to four of the five ships, "are Italica model battleships, decommissioned by the CVI in 1500. The crew didn't require much manpower and was mostly run by techno-minded adepts. But since we're not there now, they've probably piled up to two thousand people on them for minimal maintenance. Horn-II cannons are three to four times inferior to our own in every way. They weren't built with Xyriel-based armour technology, so the hull is weaker than ours. This, on the other hand," the last image approached the humans, "is a Wengerus model. A rather modern ship is their flagship. There is a peculiarity in the design of this type. Firepower has been sacrificed for super heavy armour. Glorch-type cannons, even smaller calibre than the Horn, but a higher rate of fire. The crew is about the same as on the Italica. Probably an enlarged and untrained crew. I recommend we take them aboard.

- So be it, we've got a Centuria of Thousand on board, and they wanted to go ahead of the main assault teams.

- That would be wise; the legionnaires of the First Legion will reduce the militia to dust. I am of no further use now.

- Thank you, Grant. I dare not hold you back. I trust in the power of your prayers in battle.

After waiting for the Adept to disappear behind the door, the Admiral returned to his seat.

- How long before you enter the kill zone?

- Thirty seconds, Master.

- Give me an image of them and start directing our molecules at their battleships," the sword took its place beside the throne in a special niche.

- Impossible, Master! Interference in the targeting prevents us from capturing the ship itself.

- Give me an approach. - The image began to show the bow of one of the battleships, obscured by a swarm of drones sniffing around in front of the ship - Clever. We suggest this tactic as a defence against the molecular cannon to the Admiralty. And give the Adepts an idea. - He drummed his fingers and looked at the map for a while, "How many carriers do they have?

- Two. They threw away all their aviation to protect the battleships and relied on escort ships.

- They shouldn't have done that. Tell the Molecular Ships to take out the carriers and then tell them to work on the media in free mode. Have the carriers drop their planes and attack the militia and Corsair fleets. It's unlikely they'll destroy everything, but after that, they won't be able to interfere with us in any way. When they start to retreat, let the raiders get at them. Keep the Rex and Odin battleships busy, with the first two defending the tankers. We'll take the second twin and the flagship on the Rising. All right, let's go! - The engines roared, giving off an enormous amount of momentum, and the huge battleship, along with the rest of the fleet, began to accelerate towards the enemy...

- Charge the guns, twenty seconds to salvo! - The image showed the storage batteries beneath the traitors' ship beginning to glow, transferring power to the central transmitter. Suddenly, lightning flashed across the entire gun, sparks flew, and an unbearably bright glow blinded the ship's sensors for a few seconds. Soon the systems were restored, and it was possible to observe the battlefield. And the picture was much better. The wreckage of two battleships lay scattered in space, glowing with the gun coolant scattered into space in abundance after the explosion. Another battleship was drifting, its manoeuvring system damaged by the blast but covered by its pair.

- Good, start the attack as ordered. "Climbing full speed, heading for the first 'pair'!

Soon the ship approached the underrunner while the rest of the fleet engaged the enemy 'small' fleets.

- Prepare the port side for a salvo and let the auxiliary calibre knock out her firing points and engine! - The Admiral gripped his armrests and pressed them together.

- I will," commands and orders flew from the helmsman's terminal throughout the ship.

The two giants converged on each other's sides, spraying each other with auxiliary cannons. But it was useless; the ships' armour was too strong. Soon the ships were facing each other. The compensators whistled, and the first gun fired. After rolling back from the recoil, it soon returned to its position, "spitting out" an empty shell casing picked up by special machines and taken to the depths to be recycled. The loading machine would receive a command from the gunner and drop a new shell casing into the gun's warhead. The process would be repeated, but now dozens, if not hundreds, of guns would participate in this magical repetition. The difference in technology made itself felt. And while it was not as noticeable in cruisers and other ships, it was especially pronounced in battleships. While the shield absorbed the first few rounds, the following ones shattered the hull. And here was the stumbling block. The Imperial cannons tore through the metal and pierced the enemy ship. Still, the Rebel ammunition shattered powerlessly against the latest Imperial armour, at most stripping the paint. Soon the ship, nearly torn in half, with burning fuel pouring from its punctured tanks and ammunition exploding in its holds, began to roll onto its side. The two barely surviving engines blew the ship sideways, drifting slowly and uncontrollably away from the Ascent. After a few minutes, it broke into pieces and exploded.

The ship continued, heading straight for the wrecked battleship, which was turned sideways towards the Imperials. Immediately, the cannons began firing projectiles at the approaching battleship, but the lack of calculating machines affected their accuracy.

- Should we turn back? - One of the navigating officers ran to the Admiral and waited for orders.

- What about the rest of the battle?

- The air attack has proved fatal for the Corsair fleets, so they are withdrawing from the system in large numbers. Raider squadrons have been sent in pursuit. For now, the fleet mostly fights the rogue fleets and colony militias. They are taking heavy casualties but within limits. The Battleship Rex was able to destroy the enemy but took a plasma torpedo to the fuel depot. It's barely alive now and is being escorted to the rear. The aircraft carrier Maerik took a bomb from a rebel fighter directly into the air-lift shaft on her upper decks. The hangars are still operational, but the upper decks have detonated fuel and aviation BCs. The crew is fighting for survival.

- Copy that... We don't have time to deal with this the normal way. Maintain course, transfer the shield core to the aft storage unit, constrict the forward projection and transfer all power there.

- The shield officer began using special equipment to reshape the shield and reconnect the power circuits for recharging.

- Engine room to comms, now! - After a few moments, the image of the Adept appeared before him.- On my command, force the engine, and connect additional fuel lines. - Then, the Admiral began to look through the glass at the approaching enemy ship. When there were only a few dozen kilometres between them, he shouted:

- Afterburner!

The pumps rumbled, pumping hundreds of tonnes of fuel into the huge engines. The giant turbines shuddered, and a huge jet of red-hot plasma shot out into space, pushing the ship and sending it crashing nose-first into the enemy's centre. The Rebel's hull cracked and soon split in two. The men who couldn't make it to the other compartments were ejected into space, where they were either reduced to a thin layer of blood on the hull of the Ascension or to a bluish statue. And the Imperial ship, seemingly oblivious to the obstacle, continued to where its target awaited...

And it was all over again. The two battleships approached each other, the gunners already calculating where to fire their shots and which system to damage.

- Give them the first shot. The armour will hold, and then we will answer;- the Admiral took his seat, put away everything that could fly on impact and began to wait. Soon the sirens wailed, warning of an impending collision. People took their seats or looked for a place to stand when the shot was fired. The timer on the ceiling methodically counted down the final seconds as dozens of laser beams and projectiles from the auxiliary cannons the two ships had fired at each other flew behind the windows. But then the timer read zero, and the windows began to show the enemy guns pouring death into the Imperial ship. Everything inside shrank, leaving only room for faith and hope... Only the Emperor now controlled your fate.

Thunder rang through every compartment, and the hull shook. Hull beams and armour plates creaked, holding back death and emptiness. A rivet or two snapped somewhere, a light flickered or a fountain of sparks shot out. But the ship did not flinch, and the answer would be dire. The special landing rounds that followed the armour-piercing rounds were already locked in place, awaiting only the captain's command. And soon, the ship's loudspeakers blared:

- Charge!

Hundreds of cannons roared simultaneously, sending their deadly load into the Emperor's enemies. The first shells shattered helplessly against the shield. Still, nothing lasts forever, and soon they were digging into the armour plating of the battleship, followed by the landing pods, melting and storming the hull...

All that could be heard in the darkness of the room was the sharp and frequent breathing of the militia and the hiss of melting armour. Dozens of men sat in the corridor, hiding behind whatever could be used as cover or had fallen off during the shelling. The weapons were as varied as the uniforms. Some had a trophy pulse rifle, others a colonisation-era hunting carbine. But then the last centimetre of the ship's armour fell off, dripping in a puddle on the floor. After a moment's confusion, hundreds of impulses, bullets, and even a light grenade flew into the gap. Half a minute later, the fire stopped, as nothing could survive such a barrage of fire.

The soldier closest to the breach went over and looked inside. There was no light because one of the shells had hit the generator room, so they had to act manually. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps faded, and another militiaman had to reach into his pockets for a flashlight. When he did, and the beam cut through the darkness, everyone in the room turned white, even the Legion veterans who had defected to their side. The three-metre-tall robot had one pair of hands around a soldier's throat, preventing him from breathing. At the same time, the other two held a multi-charged assault pulse pistol. Its legs were just as different from those of a human. Two sets of bends allowed him to run at tremendous speeds, overtaking enemies no matter how hard they tried to run away. Two pairs of visors shone bright red in the darkness, housed in a helmet resembling a legionary's. The Imperial Eagle on the shoulder pad glittered as the torch's beam was aimed at it and disappeared into the darkness. And the last detail that made any legionnaire recognisable was the emblem on the chest, in the shape of a skull and the letter 'M'. As soon as the beam hit the head of the wagon, it turned towards the other soldiers.

- "Thousandth!" - the commander tried to continue, but he choked and fell, his neck punctured. And the machines that emerged from the darkness began to mow down people in moments. Soon all but the man with the lantern was dead. The first machine, which threw the body against the wall with such force that it broke like a doll, approached the man lying there.

- Eternal service. Eternal war.

Then it crushed the man's head with its foot.

- And we, the Emperor's warriors, are the Eternal Thousand. Come, brothers! We have much more blood to shed..." The figures disappeared into the darkness of the passage, and soon the sounds of gunfire, shouts, cries and pleas could be heard throughout the ship, but no one could hear them anymore...