Talon Sector.
The command bridge of the Lord of Talon, the Talon Sector's new flagship and one of its first battleships, was vast.
Even so, it felt crowded.
Senior officers occupied the tiered command stations surrounding the central strategium. Naval uniforms stood beside the powered armor of ground commanders. Others attended from distant systems through life-sized hololithic projections, their bodies rendered in pale blue light and occasionally distorted by the immense distances separating them from the flagship.
Beyond the armored viewports, the stars remained cold and motionless. Within the bridge, more than a hundred battles unfolded at once.
Tactical displays filled the air above the central table. Fleet formations drifted between system maps. Supply routes glowed in layered lines. Threat markers pulsed around Cadia, Agripinaa, and dozens of lesser worlds scattered across the Segmentum Obscurus. Every few seconds, another report entered the command network and altered the picture.
The moment Qin Mo's image materialized at the head of the strategium, conversation ceased.
His projection stood taller than the officers around him, not because the system exaggerated his stature, but because no one had dared assign the Lord of Talon anything less than the central position.
He wore no ceremonial robes or elaborate symbols of office. His clothing was practical, his expression tired, and his attention fixed immediately upon the campaign display.
The strategic briefing began.
Grey and Yoan reported first from the Agripinaa Sector. Their images stood side by side beneath a projection of the forge world and its surrounding defense grid. Grey delivered the military assessment in clipped, orderly terms, while Yoan supplemented his report with updates on the spread of corruption.
After them came the naval captains.
One by one, commanders stationed throughout the region reported the condition of their fleet elements, reactor readiness, hull damage, ammunition expenditure, crew losses, dimensional-engine stability, and the estimated strength of hostile forces within their patrol zones.
The reports were not merely spoken.
Raw tactical data flowed directly into the bridge's command network and from there into Qin Mo's awareness. Fleet movements, estimated engagement ranges, supply consumption, enemy trajectories, and casualty projections assembled themselves inside his mind into a single operational picture.
Several Talon naval detachments were deployed throughout the Segmentum Obscurus, with the heaviest concentrations around the Cadian Sector. Some hunted raider formations attempting to exploit the growing instability. Others operated beside Imperial Navy battlegroups against the Plague Fleets. A handful had been assigned to convoy escort, because even the most advanced fleet in the galaxy could accomplish little if the transports carrying food, fuel, replacement parts, and soldiers were allowed to burn.
Even as the commanders spoke, more than a hundred void engagements were taking place across the region.
Some were full fleet actions involving battleships and carrier groups. Others were brief, vicious encounters between patrol squadrons, convoy escorts, and raiders searching for isolated prey.
On one display, a Talon cruiser broke formation to intercept a plague vessel closing on an Imperial troop convoy. On another, three escort frigates pursued an unidentified ship through the outer reaches of a dead system.
No single battle threatened to decide the war.
Together, they consumed ships, crews, ammunition, and command attention at a rate no responsible commander could ignore.
The Celestial Engine and the hundred regiments under Grey's command remained stationed within the Agripinaa system. No major offensive had struck the forge world in some time, yet the immense war construct had not been redeployed.
Its orders had not changed.
Agripinaa was to be held. On the forge world below, astropathic choirs received hundreds of distress calls every day. Some came as disciplined military requests for reinforcements. Others were little more than psychic screams transmitted from worlds already burning.
Governors demanded intervention. Generals pleaded for armor, aircraft, or orbital support. Ecclesiarchal authorities condemned the apparent inactivity of the Celestial Engine and questioned why such power remained motionless while loyal Imperial citizens died elsewhere.
Grey had forwarded samples of the messages. Qin Mo had listened to enough of them to understand the pattern. Desperate men always believed the force they could see should be sent to save them. Few considered what would happen to the world left undefended.
"Do not respond to those distress signals," Qin Mo said. His voice remained calm, but every officer on the bridge understood that the instruction was final. "Your place is Agripinaa. That forge world is more important than any other planet in the sector. If it falls, what will the Astra Militarum use to wage war?"
Grey lowered his head.
"Yes, my lord."
He understood the weight of the order. So did Yoan. Agripinaa did not merely house soldiers and civilians. It produced tanks, artillery pieces, replacement weapons, armor plate, power cells, engines, ammunition, and countless lesser components required to keep Imperial armies functioning.
Losing a hive world was a tragedy. Losing a forge world could cripple campaigns across dozens of systems long after its final defenders were dead.
The Celestial Engine was also too massive to be repositioned casually. Its dimensional engine could move it between star systems, but each translation demanded extensive calculations, stabilization, and enormous reserves of energy.
A standard Talon warship could appear in a threatened system, fight, and withdraw before an Imperial fleet had even entered the Warp. The Celestial Engine could not be treated like an ordinary rapid-response vessel.
If it departed Agripinaa to answer one distress call, the forge world might remain exposed for months while the Engine completed its operation, recharged, recalculated, and returned. Any enemy capable of observing its departure would be given a window in which to attack one of the most strategically valuable worlds in the region.
The safest way to defend Agripinaa was to keep the Celestial Engine in-system, where its weapons, shields, and supporting regiments made a conventional invasion effectively impossible.
The decision condemned other worlds to fight without it. That did not make the decision wrong.
"How are our fleet losses?" Qin Mo asked.
Grand Admiral Adam stepped forward. His uniform remained immaculate despite the fatigue visible around his eyes. He moved one hand across the strategium, expanding a casualty projection above the central display.
"Minimal," Adam replied. "The enemy is dangerous, but not individually superior to our fleet elements. Our real problem is the scale of the theater."
The projection widened until the Segmentum Obscurus filled the chamber. Dozens of sectors appeared. Threat markers flickered across almost every region.
"Nearly every major route is under attack," Adam continued. "Pirates, Chaos raiders, plague fleets, splinter forces, and isolated warbands are exploiting the disruption. We can defeat any force we encounter, but the distances involved are forcing us to divide the fleet into increasingly small detachments."
He highlighted several patrol zones. Talon ships were scattered across them in thin, carefully calculated lines.
"A cruiser squadron deployed to protect one subsector cannot protect another several hundred light-years away. Even with dimensional travel, every vessel requires maintenance, munitions, replacement crews, and time to process intelligence." Adam's expression hardened. "We are not losing warships. We are losing coverage."
Qin Mo studied the display in silence.
There was no order he could give that would make the Segmentum smaller. No invention could instantly place one ship in a hundred systems at once. Dimensional travel reduced distance, but it did not abolish logistics, maintenance, intelligence delays, or the simple fact that one vessel could fight in only one place at a time.
The Talon Navy was doing everything it could. For the moment, that had to be enough.
Once the principal reports were complete, Qin Mo swept his gaze across the gathered command staff. His eyes paused over the hololithic projections, searching for one that was absent.
"Where's Klein?" he asked. "This is the scheduled briefing."
No one answered immediately. None of the commanders present were stationed on Cadia, and Klein's movements were rarely predictable even when he was not operating inside an active war zone.
Qin Mo frowned and raised one hand, preparing to order the bridge systems to establish a direct dimensional relay.
Before he could speak, a new projection flickered into existence near the edge of the strategium.
Klein appeared amid a wash of static. The transmission wavered under the strain of the immense distance, but the audio came through clearly.
"The fighting on the Tyrok Fields isn't over yet," Klein began without ceremony, "but the Cadians' victory is inevitable."
Several officers glanced toward the campaign map.
Qin Mo did not. His attention remained fixed on Klein. As with every scheduled meeting, Klein delivered a direct report on Cadia. He described the remaining Volscani positions, the condition of the loyalist forces, the progress of their counteroffensive, and the growing consolidation of command beneath Ursarkar Creed.
The situation aligned closely with what Qin Mo had expected.
The Volscani Cataphracts would be annihilated.
Their initial betrayal had inflicted catastrophic damage and decapitated Cadia's senior command structure, but their opportunity for decisive victory had passed, and the loyalists' losses were nowhere near as severe as those Qin Mo remembered from the original lore. Creed had survived, restored coordination between scattered loyalist formations, and turned the Tyrok Fields into a battlefield the Volscani could no longer control.
Their destruction was no longer a question of possibility.
Only time.
What followed would be Creed's rise as the next Lord Castellan of Cadia, this time sooner and with far fewer obstacles.
Compared with the rest of the Segmentum Obscurus, Cadia remained relatively stable for now. In some respects, it was the most heavily defended and secure world in the entire region.
Yet Qin Mo understood that such security was temporary.
Cadia was not merely another fortress world. It was the principal barrier guarding the most important route from the Eye of Terror into the Imperium. Its armies, orbital defenses, fortress-cities, and minefields existed because sooner or later, Abaddon's Thirteenth Black Crusade would come through the Cadian Gate and Cadia would need every one of them.
Whatever happened elsewhere, Cadia remained the central front of the greater war. Qin Mo paid close attention to everything concerning it.
"Has Creed assumed supreme command yet?" he asked.
"Not formally," Klein replied. "The surviving generals obey him because he is the only man giving them useful orders, but the appointment has not been confirmed."
He hesitated before continuing.
"Creed asked me to relay a question."
Qin Mo raised an eyebrow.
"What question?"
"He wants to know why the Volscani Cataphracts rebelled."
For the first time during the briefing, Qin Mo looked genuinely surprised.
"How would I, someone from the Talon Sector, know why the Volscani turned traitor?"
A faint trace of amusement softened his tired expression. Creed must finally have enough breathing room to become curious, Qin Mo thought.
Several days earlier, the man would not have possessed the time or energy to wonder why the Volscani had betrayed Cadia. He would have been too occupied keeping thousands of men alive long enough to kill them.
Qin Mo did not know the exact cause of the rebellion. His knowledge of Warhammer 40,000 from his previous life gave him the outcome, not every scrap of lore or every moment of corruption that had led to it.
He could only speculate.
The Volscani Cataphracts had possessed a distinguished reputation. They had defended the Cadian Gate, fought beside trusted Imperial formations, and survived exposure to horrors that would have broken lesser regiments.
Their record was one of the reasons their betrayal had proved so devastating. No one expected a decorated and disciplined force to murder Cadia's commanders during a ceremonial mustering.
But experience with Chaos did not grant immunity to it.
Sometimes the opposite was true. Chaos rarely needed to break an entire regiment through open force. It worked through resentment, pride, grief, ambition, fear, and exhaustion.
A thought that should have been dismissed became easier to entertain. A grievance became a certainty. An officer began believing that only he understood what victory required.
The corruption might unfold across years.
It could pass through dreams, compromised chaplains, tainted relics, hidden cults, or commanders who mistook whispered guidance for their own intuition. By the time obvious mutations or open worship appeared, the decisive damage had often already been done.
Even the Adeptus Astartes had fallen through such methods. Warriors bred, conditioned, and indoctrinated to resist fear and temptation had still been corrupted.
Mortal soldiers, no matter how disciplined or courageous, remained mortal. That was why the Imperium treated daemonic exposure with such brutality. The Grey Knights' infamous practice of eliminating any witnesses was monstrous, but it had not emerged without cause.
A man did not need to worship Chaos willingly to become a path through which it could spread.
Qin Mo explained his reasoning to Klein. He did not present it as fact, and he did not pretend to possess knowledge he lacked.
"Tell Creed this is speculation," Qin Mo said. "The Volscani may have been compromised long before they reached Cadia. Their reputation and discipline would have made them more valuable targets, not less vulnerable ones."
Klein nodded.
"And relay my exact words," Qin Mo added. "No embellishments. No dramatic interpretation. No turning it into one of your tavern stories."
Klein placed one hand over his chest with exaggerated dignity.
"I would never."
Several officers on the bridge stared at him without expression. Klein sighed.
"Very well. Your exact words, my lord." He bowed. His projection vanished. The space he had occupied remained empty for several seconds before the strategium restored the wider campaign display. Adam stepped forward.
"Forgive my frankness, my lord," the Grand Admiral said, "but are you devoting too much attention to General Creed?"
Qin Mo turned toward him. Adam indicated Cadia on the map.
"We are already cooperating with elements of the Imperial Navy. We could use that relationship as justification to send a fleet to Cadia. Even a limited deployment would secure our interests there and strengthen Creed's position."
Qin Mo did not answer immediately. Then he shook his head. The Talon Sector was nominally part of the Imperium, but the political reality was deliberately ambiguous.
Terra recognized Qin Mo as a sector ruler when convenient. Talon paid tithes and maintained diplomatic ties with the Adeptus Mechanicus and Departmento Munitorum.
Yet neither side behaved as though Talon were a conventional subordinate territory. The Imperium did not possess the practical strength to command Qin Mo directly.
Qin Mo had no intention of pretending otherwise. That balance depended upon restraint of both sides.
An unsanctioned Talon fleet entering Cadia's defensive sphere could not be treated as a minor deployment. It would be interpreted as Qin Mo inserting military power into one of the Imperium's most strategically important regions during a crisis in its chain of command.
Some Imperial officials would welcome the assistance. Others would see an attempt to seize influence over Cadia.
The High Lords might demand explanations, restrictions, or immediate withdrawal. The Inquisition would ask why Talon forces had moved before receiving a formal request. The Imperial Navy would question whether the deployment intended to reinforce Cadia or establish an independent military presence beside the Cadian Gate.
Even allies became dangerous when frightened by what their allies might do next. Military logic alone was not enough. Politics shaped where armies could move, which victories would be accepted, and whether today's reinforcement became tomorrow's accusation of treason.
Until Creed officially became Lord Castellan and requested assistance in that capacity, Qin Mo lacked the political foundation required for a major intervention. Talon's hands were not truly tied. Talon could deploy regardless of Imperial approval.
The political cost would simply outweigh whatever the deployment gained. Adam followed Qin Mo's gaze toward Cadia. The Grand Admiral's expression tightened as he recognized the problem.
"Understood," he said. He offered no further argument.
"What is the current situation around the Talon Sector?" Qin Mo asked.
Adam changed the display. Cadia and Agripinaa receded, replaced by the systems surrounding Talon's borders.
"There have been several minor incursions," he reported, "but all were contained before reaching the sector."
With a motion of his hand, he opened a recorded vid-feed. The strategium darkened around the image of a small-scale void engagement.
Two Talon cruisers moved through the wreckage of an outer system while three hostile Lunar-class cruisers attempted to break contact. Lance fire crossed the darkness.
One enemy vessel lost its engines and began rotating helplessly. A second split open along its spine as internal detonations raced through its gun decks. The third tried to turn toward open space before a concentrated volley tore through its reactor compartment.
All three hostile ships were destroyed within minutes. One escape pod survived.
The small craft launched from the final cruiser moments before its destruction, evaded the nearest interceptor drones, and descended toward an agri-world within the system. Its heat shield glowed white-orange as it entered the atmosphere.
Adam froze the image and magnified the wreckage of one hostile vessel. A distinct sigil covered the scorched hull. A black hand against a field of red.
The mark of the Red Corsairs.
Several commanders shifted uneasily.
The Red Corsairs were not an isolated pirate band scavenging whatever weak target crossed their path. They were a powerful renegade force capable of fielding experienced Chaos Space Marines, captured Imperial vessels, mortal auxiliaries, and warships taken from defeated enemies. Their appearance near Talon's borders could not be dismissed as coincidence.
"This engagement occurred in the Iven System," Adam explained. "Directly east of the Talon Sector's border. Approximately fifteen hundred light-years from our nearest major defensive station."
The system map expanded. The agri-world appeared as a green sphere surrounded by orbital infrastructure and Talon patrol markers.
Most of the Talon Navy had been deployed into the wider Segmentum Obscurus, but the principal defensive battlefleet, centered on the Lord of Talon, remained within the subsector.
Qin Mo had refused to strip his own territory bare merely because distant Imperial commanders needed ships. That reserve force protected Talon's core systems. It also allowed the Navy to intervene when nearby Imperial worlds came under attack, provided doing so did not expose the sector itself.
Qin Mo studied the escape pod's projected descent path.
"Do we know who is inside?"
"No," Adam replied. "The pod's systems are shielded, and its distress beacon is transmitting corrupted Imperial codes. It may contain an officer, a pilot, a boarding specialist, or an Astartes."
"Or bait," Yoan observed from his distant projection.
Adam inclined his head.
"That possibility has not been excluded."
Qin Mo enlarged the final image captured before atmospheric interference obscured the pod. Its armor was scarred and partially melted, but its guidance system remained active.
The craft was not falling blindly. Someone inside was attempting to reach the agri-world alive. That made the occupant valuable.
A corpse might identify the raiding force. A living prisoner might reveal why the Red Corsairs had approached Talon territory, which fleet had dispatched them, and whether the engagement represented an isolated raid or reconnaissance for something larger.
"Capture the occupant of that pod," Qin Mo ordered. "Kill anyone else who reaches the surface with them. I need one prisoner, not a collection."
Adam marked the command for immediate transmission. Qin Mo continued studying the descending craft. His eyes narrowed.
"Have Chapter Master Phoros handle it."
A brief silence followed. Chapter Master Malakim Phoros of the Lamenters had not attended the strategic briefing. His Chapter operated in close alliance with Talon, but the Lamenters were not formally part of Qin Mo's military command.
They maintained their own officers, traditions, deployment structure, and authority. That distinction mattered politically, even if it did not always matter practically. Anruida stepped forward.
"I'll contact Chapter Master Phoros immediately."
Qin Mo nodded. A Lamenters strike force could reach the agri-world quickly, survive whatever the Red Corsairs had placed inside the pod, and secure the prisoner without turning the operation into a prolonged planetary hunt.
"Return to your commands," he said. "The meeting is concluded."
One after another, the distant hololithic projections vanished.
Physically present officers saluted, turned, and departed for their stations. Orders spread from the flagship through dimensional relays, naval command networks, and encrypted military channels.
Within moments, the bridge returned to its normal rhythm as data flowed through the strategium and wars raged across distances no human mind had evolved to comprehend.
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