Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Standing before him was Moen's deputy, a young female clerk.

"Lieutenant, according to Article 372 of the Tith Collection Regulations of the M42 Era Empire, war preparation materials on war zone planets are not exempt from the Tith."

"I didn't ask you which one it was!"

Matthias suddenly pointed south.

The front lines were not visible from there; all that could be seen was a plume of black smoke rising from the industrial gray sky.

"The orcs are only thirty kilometers away! Thirty kilometers! Can you hear the cannon fire? Do you want me to take you to the trenches and recite your regulations? You stand in front of the greenskins and tell them that the Valheim-IX threat rating hasn't been approved for sector level yet!"

The female clerk didn't even blink.

"Thirty million orcs constitute a planetary-level threat, currently rated as 'planetary-level, medium'. A sector-level threat requires formal review by the Military Affairs Department, a process that includes on-site documentation, the Governor's Office's seal, sector transfer, and Terra archiving or authorized filing. The procedures are not yet complete."

The faces of the several Star Force logistics soldiers around him turned grim.

Someone muttered a curse under their breath.

"To hell with the scales and ledgers."

"The greens are eating people on the front lines, while they're eating our shells from behind. Damn it, at least the greens know they're animals."

Matthias laughed in exasperation.

"Forty-seven men died in my company yesterday. The people inside the tanks were burned beyond recognition, and you're telling me about the procedures?"

The female clerk closed the document folder by half an inch.

"Casualties can be reported separately by your department. The casualty report will not affect the implementation of the tithe."

Matthias's lips trembled slightly.

He watched as the men in gray uniforms loaded ammunition boxes onto the trailer.

One box.

Another box.

Matthias suddenly gripped the laser pistol at his waist.

The law enforcement officers simultaneously raised their guns.

More than a dozen gun barrels were pointed at him.

“Lieutenant.” The female clerk finally looked up: “Drawing a gun obstructs the collection of the imperial tithe; this can be treated as a precursor to rebellion.”

Matthias's eyes were frighteningly fierce.

"I'll fight the orcs on the front lines, and you guys carry my ammunition from the back."

"Who exactly is the rebel?"

The Astronaut soldiers at the warehouse entrance also moved.

A logistics soldier reaches for the laser carbine in front of his chest.

"Sir."

"If they dare to move it, we'll fight them to the death."

"We'll die anyway if we run out of ammunition."

After those words were spoken, it was as if an invisible fire had been ignited at the warehouse entrance.

"Without ammunition, the orcs will storm in tomorrow."

"If I die here, at least I can take a few gray skins with me."

"I'd rather be shot by the Empire than be chopped up and hung on the front of a car by a greenhorn."

Ordinary people who are usually overwhelmed by military discipline, prayers, and military regulations suddenly understood something at this moment.

The military affairs department is not moving ammunition.

It is the last chance for six billion people to survive.

The female clerk noticed that the group of dusty-looking Astragalus soldiers were no longer looking at her as they were at Imperial officials.

It's more like looking at another kind of enemy.

When Kyle Varus and Heinrich arrived from the outer passage, Lieutenant Matthias had his hand on his holster, and the guards' guns were half-raised.

Several Star Force support soldiers also pushed forward.

Heinrich immediately understood the situation; these kids were about to do something stupid.

He rushed over and kicked Matthias in the back of the knee.

Caught off guard, the lieutenant's knees buckled and he almost knelt down.

"Take your hands off the gun!"

Matthias turned around abruptly, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Commander, they're going to move the shells from position number fifteen!"

"I'm not blind!"

"Why did you draw your gun? Are you planning to get them to sue you for treason, hang you on the landing zone flagpole tomorrow, and have your company guard your position while watching your corpse?"

Matthias clenched his teeth.

"But they took the ammunition away, so there won't be any shells left at position number 15 tomorrow."

"That's none of your business to draw your gun here!"

Heinrich grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in front of him.

"You're a lieutenant in the 6th Tank Company, not some madman who came out of the Green Leopards. Your job is to blast the Orks into mincemeat from inside the turret, not to give the clerk a handle to use against you at the warehouse door."

Matthias's chest heaved violently.

"How am I supposed to tell my brothers? That the Empire needs them to die in a more compliant manner?"

Heinrich released Matthias and lowered his voice.

"Shut up and stand at the back."

"Commander..."

"I said, stand at the back!"

Matthias stepped back, his eyes still fixed on the ammunition boxes.

Heinrich turned to the female clerk.

Who is in charge?

The female clerk held the document clip to her chest.

"Senior Tax Enforcer Moen is conducting an inventory check inside the warehouse. Commander, your men have just come close to obstructing the collection of tithes. I suggest you restrain them..."

Heinrich took a step forward.

"I also suggest you go to position number fifteen and stay for an hour to see how the orc chariots crush people into the mud. If you come back alive, then we can discuss your advice."

The female clerk's eyelids twitched slightly.

The law enforcement officer beside her tried to step forward, but she raised her hand to stop him.

"Commander, you are threatening the Military Affairs Department clerk that you will not change the collection process."

"I haven't even started threatening you yet."

The female clerk glanced at Heinrich, then at Kyle Varus standing behind him.

The female clerk eventually stepped aside, making way half a step.

"Commander Moen is inside!"

Deep inside the warehouse, Procopius Mohn stood in front of a row of Agrippina ammunition boxes.

"Standardized military support ammunition, no Warheim-IX Governor's Office stamp was found."

The clerk quickly took notes and asked in a low voice, "Since the local data entry has not been completed, can we exclude it from collection?"

Moen reached out and tapped the outer shell of the ammunition box.

"Military supplies stationed on the surface of a planet, regardless of whether they have been properly stored in the local administrative warehouse, can be included in the actual inventory of the tithe and registered as strategic reserves that have not been properly stored."

"Yes."

Heinrich's face twitched when he heard this.

"What the hell are you registering?"

Moen's prosthetic eye first swept over Heinrich, then over Kyle, and the data marker flashed on the mirror.

"The 71st Panzer Regiment, commanded by Heinrich Volker."

"The Lamenters, Third Assault Company, Commander Kyle Varus."

Moen closed the folder: "You two have come at the right time. The Ministry of Military Affairs is enforcing the current tithe collection for Walhem-IX in accordance with the law. Please assist in maintaining order and prevent unnecessary conflicts from arising due to misunderstandings among the frontline troops."

Heinrich walked up to him.

"You want to take my cannonballs away, and my men will use laser guns to shoot down orc chariots tomorrow. You call that a misunderstanding?"

Moen calmly said, "Commander, the collection target is determined based on the amount due for this period of Walhem-IX, and is not targeted at your troops."

"Oh, it's not directed at you."

Heinrich chuckled: "That's very considerate. It doesn't matter who fires the shells, they're all yours now anyway."

Moen ignored his sarcasm.

"The standard ammunition stockpile of Warheim-IX has exceeded the registered base by five times, which meets the conditions for this supplementary payment."

"That's because we're at war!"

"A state of war does not constitute an automatic exemption."

"Twenty thousand tank shells are fired at the front every day. Did you hear me? Twenty thousand. Not just a number on your file folder, but twenty thousand shells that can stop an orc chariot."

"The consumption data can be used as supporting material for subsequent appeals."

Heinrich's lips moved, as if a string of profanities was about to rush to his throat, but he swallowed it back down.