Warhammer: Empire Reboot

He couldn't do anything here.

As soon as he made a move, Matthias took those two kicks for nothing.

He took a deep breath: "Executive Moen, let me make this clear. If you move these ammunitions today, Position Fifteen will be cut off from fire tomorrow. Once Position Fifteen is cut off, the orc chariot tide will tear a hole from there. The outer defenses of the Second Nest City won't last five days. After five days, your twelve transport planes may not even be able to fly out of the star system."

After listening, Moen said coldly, "Commander, the Ministry of Military Affairs understands the pressure on the front lines. But the tithe is what sustains the entire Imperial war machine. Terra needs it, the front lines of the Holy Land need it, and the Imperial Navy needs it. If every planet withholds supplies under the pretext of local warfare, the Imperial logistics system will collapse."

Heinrich gripped the edge of the folder and roared, "If this line of defense collapses, six billion people will be swallowed by orcs."

Moen glanced down at the folder that was being held down.

"Please release the Ministry of Military Affairs documents; I am enforcing imperial law."

Heinrich loosened his grip on the folder, took a half step back, turned his head, and spat.

"Company Commander Kyle."

"I can't argue with this dead man's ledger."

Kyle finally took a step forward: "Those are not Warheim-IX's war supplies, but support ammunition sent by Lawson, the Dark Side Ruler of Agrippina's Empire, through the supply line. They are not within your scope of requisition."

Moen glanced at the handprint markings on the ammunition boxes and answered skillfully, "According to the tax regulations, all military supplies stationed on the planet's surface are included in the tithe statistics, regardless of their origin. Agrippina's ammunition automatically became part of the local war reserve from the moment it arrived at Walhem-IX."

Kyle stared at Moen and asked coldly, "Are you sure you want to take Lord Lawson's ammunition?"

“I want to take the tithes owed by Warheim-IX.”

Moen corrected: "The original source of the material does not change its legal status on the planet's surface."

Kyle Varus took a step closer.

The warehouse lights cast shadows on Kyle's yellow power armor, enveloping Moen within them.

Moengan showed no fear whatsoever.

He's been doing this for seventeen years.

He had seen many people more ruthless than Kyle Varus, some of whom he had personally signed off on their execution.

Kyle continued to persuade him: "The Sealholder of the Empire's Dark Side is Lawson. The Sealholder has the highest administrative authority in the Empire's Dark Side, including taxation. Agrippina's ammunition belongs to the Sealholder's strategic reserves. Wherever he allocates it, it is used by the commander of that location. Your Ministry of Military Affairs' taxation activities in the Empire's Dark Side should be authorized by the Sealholder."

This is the strongest legal card that Kyle could think of.

Moen turned a page of the document.

"Company Commander. The title of the Dark Side Master of the Empire..."

His mechanical eye scanned the clauses on the document. "It is indeed an ancient title from the Great Crusade era, but according to the Military Affairs Department's archives, the Terran Ministry of the Interior has not yet issued an official document confirming the legal validity and jurisdiction of this title in the M42 era. In the Imperial administrative system, local titles that have not been approved by Terra do not have jurisdiction over Imperial-level departments."

"In short, the Ministry of Military Affairs is not under the control of the Dark Side of the Empire. We report directly to the Terra Ministry of the Interior, and the Dark Side's ammunition allocation orders have no legal binding force on us."

Kyle was so angry he wanted to hit someone.

The great rift split the Milky Way in two.

Communication between Terra on the Holy Side, the Dark Side of the Empire, and Terra has been almost completely severed.

To obtain an official document from Terra, someone must first deliver the document across the Great Rift and then return it.

A round trip would take at least several years, assuming the messenger doesn't get lost, go mad, or get eaten by demons in the warp.

Moen couldn't get the latest instructions from Terra, so he was enforcing the old laws from before the Great Rift.

The position of the Dark Side of the Empire did not exist in the old laws because the Dark Side of the Empire did not exist at that time.

This is a perfect bureaucratic dead end.

Terra's official documents couldn't be delivered.

The authority of the seal bearer is not endorsed by Terra.

The Ministry of Military Affairs operates according to the old laws, which contain no new rules.

You try to reason with him, but he just talks about the law.

When you talk to him about reality, he opens his folder and shows you the article numbers.

"Lord Dante personally appointed Lawson to the title of Sealkeeper."

Kyle's voice rose: "You don't even recognize the appointment of Regent Dante, Lord of the Blood Angels, and Supreme Military Commander of the Dark Side of the Empire?"

"Lord Dante's military authority in the shadows of the empire is beyond question."

Moen chose his words carefully: "But military appointments and administrative jurisdiction are two separate systems. Lord Dante can appoint Lawson as the military commander of the Empire's dark side, but the collection of tithes belongs to the internal affairs system. The military commander has no direct jurisdiction over the internal affairs department. This is clearly stipulated in the principle of separation of powers in the Empire."

Kyle stared at him for a while.

"Executor, I hope you'll have the same backbone when facing the Seal Master!"

He turned his head to look at A471.

"Brother, please tell the Lord in charge of the seal."

"Third Company requests backup."

The transmission speed of swarm intelligence is measured in seconds.

While Moen was still considering whether he should add the entry "the theater commander is suspected of contacting local warlords through irregular channels" to his report...

The air behind the warehouse began to distort.

A figure walked out from the light screen.

"The Empire's Dark Taxes..."

Lawson's gaze swept from Moen to the transport trailer behind him, and then to the twelve transport planes outside the landing field.

"Besides me, who else could take it?"

"Prove your identities."

Moen's prosthetic eye snapped to focus.

Behind Lawson, Er Gou and San Gou stepped out from inside.

Two Mastiff-themed guards stood on the left and right, followed by four more Mastiff-themed guards who passed through the light barrier in turn and spread out into a standard guard formation.

The space inside the ammunition depot was further cramped by these heavy armored vehicles.

Moen's law enforcement guards instinctively raised their guns, but the muzzles of thirty laser rifles in front of six Terminator armors were like pointing toothpicks at a tank.

Kyle Varus straightened up the moment he saw Lawson.

The power armor's servo joints made a crisp sound, and the Wailers Chapter adopted their standard salute, right fist to the chest, head slightly bowed.

A tough guy who had survived the hell of Agrippina and could still get back up and keep fighting showed Lawson the respect that only a very few people would show.

"Your Excellency, the Master of the Seal."

The fifty-seven weeping warriors behind him struck their chests simultaneously.

The Astral Army reacted a beat too late.

Commander Heinrich was the first to recognize Rosen.

He had heard Lawson's full-band broadcast, the contents of which were still being repeatedly broadcast on every planet in the Dark Side of the Empire.

Heinrich snapped to attention and gave a standard astral salute.

"Your Excellency, the Master of the Seal!"

The Astragalus logistics soldiers outside the warehouse, the infantrymen resting in the trenches, the tank drivers on the landing field—all the Imperial soldiers who heard the commotion turned their heads.

"The Lord of the Seal has arrived?"

"It is the Lord of the Seal!"

The news spread faster than a laser beam through the military camp.

Within minutes, hundreds of Astronaut soldiers had gathered near the warehouse. They didn't rush in, but instead craned their necks to look inside from the outside, their faces bearing the expression one would only have when seeing a legendary figure.

Kyle had told them that the constant supply of ammunition at the front came from Agrippina, from the supply lines of the Marker.

Without those ammunition, they would have been crushed into mud by the orc chariot tide long ago.

Lawson nodded to the Imperial soldiers around him.

Then he walked up to Kyle and patted his shoulder armor.

"Is your third unit complete?"

"Half of them were replenished. Lord Dante gave twenty new recruits, and together with Agrippina's veterans, that made fifty-seven people."

"That's enough."

Lawson withdrew his hand.

Then he turned to look at Moen.

The tax officer stood next to the pile of ammunition, his file folder tucked under his arm.

The two clerks huddled behind Moen, the inventory board nowhere to be found.

Moen started to get nervous; he had visited at least a hundred planets.

On every planet he visited, he was scolded by the planetary governor, threatened by the commander of the Astronautical Army, and treated coldly by the sages of the Cult of Mechanics.

He's used to it.

The empire's tax officials were never popular; their job was to legally take away what others had worked so hard to accumulate.

But Lawson is not the governor, not the commander; Lawson is the one who tore the Primarch apart.

He was the one whose chaotic fleet, hidden in the shadows of the entire empire, had to avoid him.

When Moen is not in front of Lawson, he can use the fact that "Terra did not issue an official document" to deny the authority of the Sealholder.

That was the confidence that the law gave him.

Now that Lawson himself was standing in front of him, the confidence he had gained from the law suddenly felt very weak.

"Unable to prove identity?"

Lawson stared at the military affairs officer and asked, "Rebels?"

Moen reacted quickly.

"Yes, yes, yes!"