“Signal thirty-six-sixteen-v-twelve. First contact protocol…”
The Vicar sitting at the control panel stared with disbelieving eyes at the screens, which were effectively displaying their doom.
Furthermore, since the threat level was still unknown, their entire state—small by galactic standards—stood on the brink.
They were situated on a small bridge, where only the glows of electronic machines and occasional lamps illuminated the grey metallic chamber.
Three young individuals positioned there discussed their sensor readings.
“Unfortunately, my scanners say the same. It means guests are indeed headed our way,” Duran frowned, leaning in to examine the instrument readings, but they were merciless.
According to the shift in gravitational waves within the system, hundreds of objects were flying toward them; primary radio frequency analysis identified them as genuine spacecraft.
Moreover, they clearly bore none of their Empire’s identification marks.
“We must report this to the main bases as soon as possible, and they will relay it to Telstarax. How certain are we that the enemy won’t intercept it?” asked a girl roughly their age, who possessed stark white skin and two glowing red eyes.
Despite her genetic mutations, she was the leader of their expedition, and all acknowledged her authority.
Duran and the Vicar were the best of their Tower, but if even they hadn’t passed the brutal selection for such a post, someone at the top had to be exceptional.
In truth, the transmission of information through the void was one of the primary hurdles of interstellar travel.
While their engines, assembled from blueprints from an ancient forge, could cross from one end of the stellar system to the other in less than a day, transmitting interference-free data was a far more complex problem.
Solar radiation and ionic flares alone severely limited their capabilities, to say nothing of the possibility that someone might attempt to steal their secrets by catching the signal mid-way and altering it.
In a war of this scale, any such error could lead to tragic events of immense proportions.
“…If we use the emergency laser transmitter, the signal will reach Scthenalus-6 in just fifteen minutes. Но that might give away our position, as well as the coordinates of our entire moon base. We could also try a radio message, but even with standard encryption, it will take several times longer. Though it would make finding our base much harder,” the Vicar replied instantly, hunched over the control panel, beginning to type the first set of their standard emergency dispatch created for such scenarios.
Few thought such coding would be needed so soon, yet they were prepared nonetheless.
Kihrah, the captain of their ship, frowned in deep thought.
Although their ships held supplies of fuel, air, and water, the mass of nanites that had created a stable refuge on the gas giant’s surface also housed over three hundred personnel.
All were of the promising younger generation, bred to be the best of the best; losing them would be a heavy blow to the fledgling state, however…
“Activate the laser. The loss of three hundred is an acceptable sacrifice if it saves our home. And even in the event of our death and the destruction of all forces, our names will forever be inscribed in the list of heroes who first detected a potential enemy. We are talking about hundreds of thousands of lives, so there isn’t even a choice here,” her cold voice rang through the room, yet it carried a core of steel-like confidence and will.
The Vicar and Duran exchanged looks, but soon nodded and set about executing the order.
No one knew if they would survive an encounter with representatives of an unknown civilization, yet each was ready to sacrifice themselves if it meant the survival of their entire home.
Such was their duty.
“Wait a moment… We’ve received two signals: one from the base, and the second from the flotilla flying toward us!” the Vicar shouted slightly, before setting about decoding the message.
Duran immediately leaned over the panel to process the second message while their captain stood silently, awaiting the results.
“The base says an emergency message arrived from Scthenalus, warning of the arrival of allied ships. High-level encryption, so the message is entirely trustworthy,” the youth said with a hint of doubt.
Kihrah frowned, stepping to the panel to read the message personally, but she was interrupted by Duran’s equally astonished voice:
“And the arrivals are writing that… ahem—’The Great Imperium of Man joyfully greets Ferrus, the lost son of the Emperor himself. The Lord of Terra and Mars has arrived to return Sxenalis to the fold of the realm of mankind, and declares that every human in the system is now a servant of the master of the universe…'”
The trio of young people looked at one another, clearly not fully grasping the scale of the unfolding events.
I did not need to lift my head and look at the heavens to see the thousands of ships approaching the planet’s orbit.
Images of the situation were transmitted to my lenses, captured by cameras from hundreds of different angles.
I was certain entire corps also saw the event unfolding, but I already had an address prepared.
And exactly as the final minute passed and the new hour began, my voice spread through every speaker on the planet:
“Citizens of our Empire! Today is the most important day in the history of our proud and great state! We considered ourselves the last ray of light in the grim future of the galaxy, yet reality has proven far better than expected! We are not the last human state; there exists an entire Imperium consisting of many thousands of worlds. With its heart located on most-holy Terra, the progenitor world of all humans, my father has been able to create a new hope for us all! A dream that one day we will be able to unite all our brothers and sisters, returning the former greatness of our kind! Once, it was Man who ruled the galaxy, and our common task is to reclaim that time and achieve even more! Therefore, setting aside strife and doubt, we must unite for the sake of a bright future!” Especially warm tones were added to my synthesized voice, which, combined with a specific sound frequency, should yield a quite favorable result.
I was certain the reaction among the population would be extremely positive.
Since the very founding of the state, I had promoted ideas where the superiority of the human over everything alien and non-human was paramount.
It was a simple, universally understood idea that allowed people of different tribes and appearances to be forged into a monolithic force.
And the fact that we were not alone in the galaxy—that allied human forces existed, engaged in a mission similar to our own—could only be received with positivity.
Especially after the enthusiasm with which I presented them, emphasizing our kinship.
I tried not to develop a cult of personality, but its emergence was expected and even inevitable.
I personally disliked washing people’s minds with my aura, which is why I rarely interacted with them directly, preferring cold numbers and orders through machines—but personal meetings were unavoidable.
Consequently, there were too many people ready to do anything just to earn my approval.
Not the best policy, but for now, it served a purpose.
Having finished the announcement, I immediately headed to a vast, spacious hall where traces of recent construction were still visible.
A giant platform with hundreds of meters of reinforced glass, behind which one could see ships landing on Telstarax.
A place created specifically for meeting guests from the void, arriving in rather non-standard vessels.
And the ships of the Imperium truly were strange things.
Giant, multi-kilometer behemoths adorned with the symbols of black double-headed eagles and various gold ornaments.
Their overall design was somewhat angular and “grotesque,” as if living cities and temples were flying rather than advanced machines of the future.
Our ships, by contrast, were as smooth as possible, grey, and quite compact, devoid of any flamboyance.
This helped with atmospheric movement, saved resources, and assisted in avoiding space debris.
However, my father’s fleet clearly did not worry about such trifles, evidently preferring this brand of pathos.
Standing with me were several dozen people, mostly from the diplomatic and administrative corps.
It was hard to even imagine the mountain of problems and paperwork that would crash down upon us due to joining another state, so it was better not to delay and deal with the matter immediately.
As soon as the first giant ship landed in our dock, the first platforms leading into the adamant behemoth lowered onto the steel floor.
If I so desired, I could hear the heavy, labored breathing of the ancient and powerful machine that bound tens of thousands of other devices together.
However, I immediately shifted my gaze, looking at the people disembarking from the ship. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
The first to emerge, expectedly, was the Emperor himself.
A giant nearly five meters tall, encased in golden power armor and holding a massive turquoise blade, his radiant gaze directed toward me.
A crimson cloak hung from his shoulders along with the fur of an unknown beast, and on his chest shone a gemstone resembling a red drop.
As he took a few steps forward, other figures began to follow behind him.
Moving in his wake was a three-meter-tall man in white plate armor, very similar to my father’s.
However, if the former still radiated an aura of power and perfection, this one simply looked like a true leader and the embodiment of charisma.
With short hair, a brilliant smile, and joyful eyes, he looked only at me, as if assessing me, while appearing genuinely happy.
Behind this superhuman came crowds of soldiers—though significantly smaller, they possessed immense numbers and impressive gear.
Thousands of warriors encased in grey armor moved in a single formation, weapons at the ready.
However, the moment they saw me, they froze for a second, staring.
It was curious that the entire structure of these people was, in a way, built on who was taller.
It was unlikely the leader of thousands of worlds built his hierarchy solely on that, but at first glance, it seemed a plausible theory.
“I greet you, my son,” he said in an intensely grand, thunderous voice.
“You were lost many decades ago, but today is truly a happy day, as we have managed to meet once again among the galactic reaches. And my heart is even happier knowing you have achieved so much in such a short time. Not only have you united an entire world, but you have given the people hope in this dark time. But no matter—now we are together, and no force in the galaxy can stop us.”
Not particularly wishing to prolong this show, I simply bowed deeply to my father, then shifted my gaze to the other giant standing with a smile beside the Emperor.
He was clearly waiting for the chance to speak:
“And I am glad to see you! My name is Horus Lupercal, your brother and Primarch of the Luna Wolves! I am certain the day we met will go down in history as a truly great event!”
It was amusing that Horus himself seemed far more pleasant than the Emperor.
While the latter relied on his sorcery when communicating with people, my brother simply exuded charisma and confidence, drawing all eyes to himself.
No sorcery—just the natural ability to command a presence.
And while I am not devoid of such a skill, this warrior was clearly a level above me.
“…And these, Ferrus, are your sons. The Storm Walkers—loyal warriors and great conquerors who have already brought hundreds of worlds into our state! Now you are their leader, and they are your greatest tool,” my father continued his thunderous address to what seemed like the entire world—so loud was he.
But I merely nodded to him and looked appraisingly at what I understood to be those very Space Marines he had told me about earlier.
At first glance, they looked more like cold machines than living beings.
Moving in synchronicity, wasting no movement on meaningless showmanship, and simply conducting themselves as good soldiers should—disciplined and clearly ready to execute almost any order I gave.
I think we will work well together.
However, there is still much work ahead—I need to remove that “almost” at any cost, secure their absolute loyalty, and check everyone for spies.
I will never believe that my father went without them.