Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"Wait! Your Excellency! We admire your bravery and thank you for saving the Nest City. However, taking command of an entire planet must comply with Imperial legal procedures!"

“You and your men do not bear any battleband insignia! We, as Imperial soldiers sworn to the Governor, cannot easily hand over our insignia without presenting authorization documents…”

He hadn't finished speaking.

Lawson slowly turned his head.

In that instant, Lieutenant General Klaus felt as if he had been noticed by a Tyrannosaurus Rex that was feeding.

"What's your name?" Lawson's voice was eerily calm.

“I… Klaus von Strelen! Supreme Commander of the Southern Theater, Lieutenant General!”

“Supreme Commander of the Southern Theater,” Lawson repeated, “So, Lieutenant General Klaus, your position in the Lower Nest Fourth Defense Zone has been riddled with bullets.”

Lawson took a sudden step forward, and the shadow completely enveloped Klaus:

"While your soldiers were being devoured alive by aliens in the mud, you, dressed in this spotless uniform, were hiding in the spire hall tens of thousands of meters above the ground, holding a wine glass?"

Klaus stammered in his defense, "That was... an order from the Governor, to protect the Spire district... as a reserve force..."

"In the dictionary of the Imperial Military Tribunal, this is not called a reserve force."

Click!

Lawson drew his gun so quickly that no one could see it; the dark muzzle of the explosive pistol was already pressed against Klaus's forehead.

"This is called desertion in the face of battle, this is called betrayal of the imperial cause."

"According to the Imperial Wartime Regulations, anyone who deserts in the face of battle will be executed without mercy."

boom!!!

The mass reaction bomb penetrated the skull at extremely close range and detonated.

Lieutenant General Klaus's entire upper body vanished instantly, turning into a cloud of blood mist and bits of flesh.

Scalding bone fragments splattered onto the faces of several generals nearby.

silence.

The remaining half of the mangled lower body, still twitching, lay on the blood-stained wooden floor.

The generals who had been trying to bargain were stunned.

"Now."

Lawson slowly tucked the explosive pistol back into his waistband, his eyepiece sweeping over the remaining generals.

"Does anyone else have objections to my command? Or does anyone else want to know my battle group number?"

No! Absolutely not!

"I will obey! For the Emperor!"

"We'll hand over all command codes and troop deployment maps! You decide, sir!"

All the generals, including Cassius's most loyal faction, rushed to pledge their allegiance.

"A wise choice."

Lawson sneered: "Armor 11, Armor 12, Armor 13, step forward. Take full control of all PDF command nodes on this planet. Seal off all armories, logistics stations, and orbital defense control centers. Not a single bullet is to be moved without my order."

"As for you," Lawson glanced at the group of generals, "no one is allowed to leave this hall until the new defense system is in place. Anyone who does so will be considered a traitor."

He was stripped of his military power and placed under physical house arrest.

Within 15 minutes of entering the governor's mansion, Lawson had completely seized control of the planet's armed forces.

Cassius finally couldn't hold back any longer. He squeezed out of the crowd, rubbing his hands together, and forced a fawning smile:

“Great Angel, these incompetent generals deserved to be punished long ago. As the planet's governor, I fully support your military takeover…”

"Governor Cassius."

Lawson interrupted him, the red light in his goggles coldly falling on the fat pig: "Stop your bureaucratic airs. You can settle your accounts later."

"Now, I'm requisitioning your governor's office. Do you have any objections?"

"No...no objection! It's my pleasure! Please go ahead!"

Lawson ignored him and focused his gaze precisely on the black figure that remained standing in the shadows.

Grand Marshal of the Ministry of Justice, Gideon Thorne.

"You're the Grand Marshal of the Legal Department of this planet?" Lawson's voice finally carried a hint of scrutiny, as if he were an equal.

Thorne stepped forward. He did not kneel, nor did he perform the Eagle Salute; he merely bowed his head slightly.

"Indeed, Gideon Thorne, head of Obolos' legal department."

“Come with me.” Lawson didn’t give him a chance to refuse.

Katarina understood, and the four nuns immediately followed with firm steps.

Thorne looked at Lawson's retreating figure, then at the nuns' fervent support.

He knew this force was shrouded in mystery, but in the Empire, when Space Marines and Battle Sisters were on the same side, you could doubt one side, but it was difficult to doubt both at the same time.

He gripped the power hammer and followed.

The Governor's Office.

The heavy soundproof door closed, completely shutting out the noise from outside.

Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, billowing gray poisonous clouds and the occasional flash of anti-aircraft gunfire pierced the air, while inside, the rich aroma of expensive cigars filled the air. The desk, crafted from a single piece of Martian redwood, still held an unfinished cigar.

Lawson sat directly in the governor's large leather chair.

Behind him stood four nuns in a line.

Katarina placed her hand on the holster at her waist, her gaze sharp as she stared at the Marshal of the Ministry of Justice opposite her.

Across from the desk, Thorne sat upright in a guest chair, with the Power Hammer standing respectfully beside him.

The two men stared at each other across a table.

Lawson broke the silence first.

"The view from this office is nice. It's a pity that the green plague outside the window almost ruined the view."

Thorne bowed slightly: "Lord Astartes turned the tide, and the billions of people of Obolus will forever remember your bravery. The Ministry of Justice pays its highest respects."

Lawson sneered, "I don't need the respect of mortals. I'm standing here because I saw something in the ruins of your abandoned Lower Nest that displeased me."

"You and I both know that the greenskins outside the city walls are nothing but mindless beasts. They have no tactics in their heads except for Waaagh."

"But the beasts outside the walls can only cause killings, while the shadows inside the walls are enough to destroy the entire galaxy."

Lawson pointed to the nun behind him:

"Look at them! These four nuns escorted the sacred relic of the state religion to crash-land here. They faced the siege of tens of thousands of aliens alone in the lower nest for three whole days! Meanwhile, the orbital defenses of the first nest were like paper toys, the troops in the middle nest were deaf and blind, and the entire command system suffered a near-perfect paralysis at the most critical moment!"

"This is no coincidence, Grand Marshal. Dangerous heretics, or alien cults of gene-stealers, have already infiltrated the highest ruling class of this planet!"

"They are using this Greenskin invasion to sacrifice the people of the Empire and deplete the power of loyalty. They are using others to do their dirty work."

Thorne's pupils contracted slightly beneath his mask.

Being a lurking heretic and a gene thief—crimes that would send the Inquisition burning the entire planet to the ground.

But Lawson's trump card wasn't finished yet.

"What I find most puzzling is not that foolish governor, nor that greedy nobleman."

The red light in Lawson's goggles was fixed on Thorne: "What I find most puzzling is your legal department."

"The absolute executors of the Imperial Code, the eyes and ears of Holy Terra on this planet. Your informants are everywhere in the hive, servo skulls roam in every ventilation duct, and oracle arrays monitor the encrypted communications of every noble!"

boom!

Lawson slammed his hand on the table, and a spiderweb-like pattern immediately appeared on the Martian redwood.

"Those heretics pushed this empire of billions of people into the abyss right under your noses! And what has your Ministry of Justice done in these past three months?"

Lawson stood up, looking down at them:

“Your intelligence network couldn’t possibly be completely unaware. In my logic, your inaction can only be explained in two ways.”

"Either your legal department's incompetence has reached an appalling level, and you don't deserve to wear that uniform."

"Either."

"Your Excellency the Grand Marshal, you yourself are the biggest protector of heretics."

The office was so quiet that only the hum of the air conditioner could be heard.

Behind Lawson, Katarina's right hand clicked as she engaged the safety on her bomb gun.

In her and all the nuns' rigid, black-and-white, loyalty-or-treachery mindset, Lord Astartes' logic was simply flawless!

Yes! The Ministry of Justice knows everything, so why doesn't it step in to save us? Why doesn't it purge the mole within its ranks?

There's only one answer: the Grand Marshal of the Ministry of Justice is a heretic!

If Thorne's answer is even slightly unsatisfactory to them, the four nuns will not hesitate to open fire.

Thorne's forehead was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat.

As a veteran who had navigated the imperial bureaucracy for eighty years, he instantly saw through the situation.

Whether there's evidence of heretics or gene thieves is irrelevant.

All Astartes needed was an excuse to kill someone at any time.

Behind him stood four battle nuns who had been thoroughly brainwashed and were ready to be martyred at any moment.

In the Imperial legal system, offending an Astartes might be possible with an appeal, but obstructing a Space Marine who is investigating heresy in front of a nun is a different matter.

That is undeniable blasphemy.

Thorne knew perfectly well that if he dared to utter a single word of dissent, they would use the pretext of purging heretics to shoot him dead. Then, armed with the nuns' testimonies, they would launch a legitimate decapitation strike against the Ministry of Justice's fortress.

He had no choice.

"My lord, please calm down."

Thorne took a deep breath, removed his hand from the handle of the power hammer, and laid it flat on the table.