Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"You can come and go as you please," Lawson said. "It's so much faster than traveling through warships in subspace."

Dante smiled and shook his head: "Let's get down to business. What are your plans for the next step?"

Lawson leaned back in his chair.

"The foundation is in place. The Agrippina Sector is stable, the throat of the Nakmonde Corridor is in our hands, and now we have the resources of three hundred more Warehouse Worlds."

"The next step is to bring back more Imperial Worlds, those that lost contact after the Great Rift, those that rebelled, and those that were half-eaten by Chaos and then spat out. Many of them still have survivors holding on. We need to reintegrate them into the system, restore communications, restore supplies, restore order, save those that can be saved, and cleanse those that need to be cleansed."

Dante's eyes lit up.

"You're launching an expedition? I'll gather every Space Marine chapter I can muster in the Dark Side..."

"No need."

Lawson waved his hand: "This isn't an expedition. Reclaiming one's own homeland, what kind of expedition is that? The problem with most of the lost worlds isn't that they can't fight, but that they can't find them, can't make contact, and can't transport them. I can solve all three of these problems now. Most worlds only need a small team to arrive, reveal their identities, hand over supplies, and clear out the remaining Chaos strongholds to be able to reclaim the Empire's territory. The ones that truly require a large-scale military force are at most one in ten."

Dante thought about it.

“That makes sense. During the Great Expedition, the Emperor’s approach was also to launch a massive military campaign. But that was because they were facing a completely unknown galaxy and needed absolute force to intimidate everyone. Now it’s different. We have the Empire’s dark star map and the intelligence from the lower levels. Reclaiming our homeland doesn’t really require the grand spectacle of a Great Expedition.”

"Once all these worlds are taken back."

Lawson said, "Once every human planet on the Empire's dark side is reconnected, has restored its production capacity, and is integrated into the system, once our industry and military strength have multiplied several times over, then..."

"That will be the real Great Expedition, pushing into star systems beyond the Empire's borders."

"We can even reclaim the Imperial Holy Land!"

The old man's expression changed.

"Expand the empire's territory, reclaim the imperial capital..."

Dante repeated these words: "Will that day ever come?"

Lawson looked at the old warrior who had lived for eighteen hundred years.

"It will definitely happen."

…………

After seeing Dante off, Lawson returned to the command console in the main hall and brought up the star map.

A three-dimensional projection of the Empire’s dark side unfolded before him, with thousands of galactic points of light densely packed together.

Planets already under control are marked in gold, lost worlds are marked in gray, and those confirmed to have fallen are marked in dark red.

The golden area radiates outward from Agrippina's core, like a spreading patch affixed to a tattered gray canvas.

The strength to expand has long been there.

All that's missing is the right timing and the right status.

The takeover of the three hundred warehouse worlds provided both: supplies in hand, Dante's endorsement, and legitimacy.

Recapture itself is not difficult.

The predicament faced by most of the disconnected world is not the invasion of chaos, but rather isolation and helplessness.

The Great Rift severed all ties between them and the Empire.

Governors and the Star Guardians on many planets are still struggling to maintain a crumbling order, waiting for a response that will never come.

A planet can go from being out of contact to reconnecting to the network in as little as three days, or no more than two weeks.

The real challenge lies ahead.

Recapture is easy, but governing it is the real challenge.

Every planet that is reclaimed is a mess: power vacuum, depleted resources, sharp population decline, cult infiltration, bureaucratic corruption, and class conflict.

None of these problems can be solved by a squad of combat suicide soldiers.

However, this is something that Lawson doesn't need to worry about personally.

Swarm intelligence has established a standardized takeover process.

From arrival to screening to reconstruction to inclusion in the system, each step has a corresponding template and contingency plan.

The administrative capabilities of the Cornerstone Sequence have been tested on a large scale across hundreds of planets in Agrippina and have been honed to an extremely efficient level.

Lawson only needs to check the logs, grasp the overall direction, and identify abnormal situations to make decisions personally.

The rest, the bee colony can run on its own.

He was flipping through his journal when he heard footsteps behind him so light they were almost inaudible.

Barefoot, Ilancia silently walked behind Lawson on the dark gray carpet laid out on the floor of the Dominion.

Her long hair was loose, and she wore a human-style long dress. The Eldar were not used to the cut of human clothing, but it fit Yilancia surprisingly well.

This is probably because the Eldar's body proportions are closer to what humans consider "perfect."

She went straight around to the side of Lawson's conductor's chair, sat on the armrest for half a second, and then slid into Lawson's arms.

Lawson's arm automatically wrapped around it, his gaze still fixed on the star map.

"Is the bone relic inspection complete?"

"The required quantity of 80,000 vehicles will be used in full."

Ilancia leaned lazily against Lawson's chest: "Sarosin is a man of his word. I had my men inspect the purity and lattice density of the spirit bones batch by batch, and they all passed. They've already been sent to T-001 and production has begun."

"You've worked hard."

She looked up at Lawson, her eyes softening: "In addition, the first batch of people have begun to settle on those three planets. They are all ordinary families, mainly artisans and growers."

How are you adapting?

Ilancia thought for a moment: "To be honest, it's not quite right. The air quality and ecological cycle on your three planets are much better than on the Ark, but that's okay, the Eldar are very adaptable. It's mainly the difference in lifestyle. On the Ark, all resources are rationed, on a fixed schedule, and even the sunlight cycle is artificial. On your planet, there's an open sky, real soil, and wild vegetation. You'll adapt. A few months will do."

Lawson unconsciously fiddled with her long hair that was draped over her shoulders.

"There's one more thing."

Ilancia hesitated before saying, "I must remind you, don't be too nice to Saim-Han."

Lawson's fingers paused for a moment.

“Old man Salosin is a man of his word, but he doesn’t have complete control over the twelve clans under him. Several mid-ranking clans are already discussing in private that the resettlement conditions you’ve offered are too generous. You don’t understand the Eldar’s nature. The better you treat them, the more they take it for granted, and then they start testing your limits. Give them one planet, and they’ll want two; give them safe haven, and they’ll want autonomy. This is something ingrained in the Eldar’s nature, something that’s been going on for tens of millions of years, and it can’t be changed.”

Lawson looked down at her.

Shouldn't you speak up for your people?

Ilancia rolled her eyes.

"I know our spirit race's character best."

She said matter-of-factly, "I'm saving them too. What if some foolish clan chief makes a mistake and tests your limits, and really angers you? What will you do then? You're not one of those good-natured governors in the empire who would tear the ark apart."

She stuck out a finger and poked Lawson's chest.

"I'm giving you this heads-up beforehand so you're aware of the situation and can better control your strength when they really start causing trouble. Too little pressure won't hurt much, too much pressure will cause serious injury. I'm saving trouble for both sides."

Lawson looked at the barefoot Elven woman in his arms, who was walking on the carpet and earnestly teaching him how to manipulate her mother's tribe.

He smiled.

"You little bean sprout."

"Don't call me Little Bean Sprout."

Lawson scooped her up in one swift motion.

Ilancia let out a soft gasp, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck: "You've calculated everything, playing both sides. The Ark thinks you're keeping watch for them, and I think you're giving me a heads-up..."

"I didn't scheme!"

"Okay, you don't have it."

Lawson stood up and swept her into his arms: "As a reward for your unwavering loyalty, I need to give you one!"

Ilancia's face flushed.

The Elven race's skin was so fair it was almost transparent, and the blush was especially noticeable when it spread, burning from the tips of their ears all the way down to their necks.

"Now?"

Ilancia buried her face in the crook of Lawson's neck.

She was indeed looking forward to this "reward".

Because she discovered a secret: every time she got close to Lawson, she became stronger.

The body reacts faster, the soul is more resilient, and the precision of psychic perception is sharper.

It was as if the residual warmth of the energy within Lawson's body had seeped into her depths through some means she couldn't explain.

The bedroom door closed behind me.

Ilancia hooked her fingers around the edge of Lawson's collar and gently pulled it down a little.

"Then... please, Lord Seal Master, reward me handsomely."

…………

Colvis-VII, on the edge of the dark side of the Empire, lost for eleven years.

Planetary Governor Hector Moran hasn't slept for three days.

The Colvis-VII was never invaded by Chaos or Orcs.

The enemies facing this nest world are more mundane, more deadly, and hungrier.

The year the Great Rift tore the galaxy apart, all ties between Colvis-VII and the Empire were severed overnight.

The subspace route collapsed, navigation signals disappeared, and only random static noise remained on the communication frequency bands.

The last supply transport ship jumped into subspace eleven years ago and never returned.

We can manage for the first three years.

The grain reserves in Chaohu City are designed to be redundant enough to support a population of 50 billion for two years, and with the addition of an emergency rationing system, this can be extended to three years.

Moran implemented wartime rationing in the first year, reducing the food rations of all residents to 60% of the standard amount, and hoarding food was considered treason.

Several riots broke out at the bottom of the hive, but they were all suppressed by the planetary defense forces.