Three Days Later
Deep within the labyrinthine underhive of Tyrone, on the Hive World of Talon I, a grand assembly was underway.
The location was New Kato's command spire, inside a vast, high-ceilinged strategic conference chamber.
Seated around the polished obsidian table were First Legion commanders, ranking officers of the Imperial Navy in crisp void-black uniforms, Household Guard captains in gilded carapace plate, as well as stern-faced nobles from Talon II, leaders of the tattered-yet-proud Resistance Army, and robed representatives of the Ecclesiarchy clutching their censers and prayer beads.
All present knew that the war was effectively over.
The entirety of Talon III's enemy forces had vanished overnight, without explanation or precedent.
On Talon II, the remaining heretic forces were leaderless, scattered, and cut off from supply lines. Their chains of command had collapsed, their morale was ash, their cohesion gone. Without Archon's hand to direct them, they were little more than pockets of desperate rabble, irregulars clinging to ruin and fanaticism. In many ways, they resembled a disjointed militia rather than a true military threat. Against the seasoned Resistance Army, their defeat was merely a matter of time.
In truth, the war for the Talon System was already won.
And yet, confusion filled the chamber.
Most of those present had been prepared to deploy to Talon III for a prolonged campaign. Even the Ecclesiarchy, who normally played a more spiritual role, had organized a militia of nearly one million civilians under the protection of the Resistance, preparing them for holy battle against the heretics on Talon III.
Now, with no war left to fight, the sheer abruptness of events had left even hardened commanders adrift.
....
"What is the current status of Talon III?"
A broad-shouldered, silver-bearded Ministorum Priest rose, his voice a careful blend of skepticism and accusation.
"I have heard conflicting reports," he said, his hands tightening on the haft of his censer staff. "Many of Archon's forces were not even on Talon II, they were entrenched in battle on Talon III. And yet, we are now told they are simply… gone?"
Qin Mo cut him off with a curt gesture, his expression a mask of controlled authority.
"If they were on Talon III," Qin Mo said, his voice low but carrying, "then they are no longer among the living. Talon III is now a world of absolute purity. There is not a single enemy left upon it."
"How? What sorcery could accomplish this?"
The Priest's voice trembled with the strain of reconciling belief with reason.
He was not alone in his disbelief. The destruction of an entire warfront, accomplished in silence and without struggle, was an affront to the very logic of war in the Imperium, wars were meant to be costly, bloody, and slow.
It was not that he doubted Qin Mo. On the contrary, many among the Ecclesiarchy now truly believed him to be an agent of the Emperor, if not a direct instrument of His Will.
But an entire world's worth of enemies? Gone? It was an impossible miracle.
"They were purged by a weapon of absolute annihilation," Qin Mo said at last.
As he spoke, his gaze shifted toward Adam, who silently stood and moved toward the holo-projector at the chamber's edge. Inserting a data-slate into the console, he activated the display.
A holographic projection of Talon III burst into life, suspended above the center of the table.
No longer the ravaged battlefield they had expected to see, the planet now appeared as a serene, glimmering ocean world, its surface covered in vast blue seas and scattered emerald islands, the scars of war seemingly erased by some divine hand.
"Imperial warships conducted extensive scans," Adam explained. "All results confirm the same thing, there is no trace of organic life remaining on Talon III."
"By the Throne…"
The Priests exchanged hushed whispers, fingers tracing the sign of the aquila as they murmured theological interpretations amongst themselves. Some were already crafting explanations: divine manifestations, celestial judgments, or miracles of the God-Emperor.
"You'd best come up with an official explanation that serves the Imperium soon," Qin Mo turned toward the Ministorum delegates. "Declare it a miracle of the Emperor if you must. Ensure that the masses understand this was His divine will."
He had no desire to attribute his actions to the Emperor, but he understood the necessity. The Ecclesiarchy would need a palatable narrative to present to the Imperium at large.
Fortunately, this was something they excelled at.
Faith was a weapon as potent as any lance battery.
If this slaughter could be cast as the Emperor's judgment, so be it.
"We shall ensure it is done," one of the Priests assured him, bowing deeply, the chains of his ceremonial censer clinking faintly.
"Now, onto another matter," Qin Mo continued, "where is the former Governor of Talon II?"
The question was quickly answered by Donna, now a ruling noblewoman from the Knightly House Lannis.
"There is no Governor," she explained. "Talon II was originally an Agri-World before falling under heretical rule. It was forcibly converted into an Industrial World. By the time open war broke out between Loyalists and Heretics, there was no official planetary governor left in place."
A second noble rose, his robes heavy embroidered with sigils of an old Imperial bloodline.
"But the bloodline of the last legitimate Governor still exists," he interjected. "In fact, one of his direct descendants is among the leadership of the Resistance Army."
Qin Mo's gaze turned to the Resistance delegation. An elderly officer, highest-ranking among them, gave a slow, silent nod.
In that moment, all eyes from Talon II's representatives turned toward Qin Mo, awaiting his judgment.
To them, the Resistance represented the Loyalist cause. The Nobles were the voice of Talon II's ruling elite. Both factions hoped for a new Governor, one who would not merely serve as Qin Mo's puppet but retain some degree of autonomy.
That was the ideal scenario.
But ideals were luxuries, and Qin Mo's armies, fleets, and weapons rendered such bargaining almost quaint. The nobles had more realistic expectations.
"You are the liberator of Talon II," the noble continued. "Once our world is restored and a new Governor is installed, we will formally swear fealty to you. You will have the authority to command our armies and resources, and should rebellion ever threaten your rule, our people will answer your call to arms."
"What nonsense are you spouting?!"
Before Qin Mo could respond, Grey, one of his commanders, shot to his feet, fury evident in his voice.
"Are you speaking for yourself or for your entire world?! If my Lord hadn't intervened, your 'Resistance' would have been slaughtered to the last man!"
Silence reigned. No one could argued with Grey.
Even the Resistance officers acknowledged the truth of his words.
Before Qin Mo's arrival, they had been fighting a hopeless war, battling not for victory, but simply because they had no other choice. Had Archon not diverted the bulk of his forces to Talon III, the Resistance would have been wiped out long ago.
"Sit down," Qin Mo motioned for Grey to calm himself, then turned back to the noble. "What you're saying, then, is that Talon II will be my vassal, but not fully under my direct rule?"
The noble nodded cautiously, but added. "That is the official arrangement. But we acknowledge you as our savior, we would never deny your call to arms."
"I see." Qin Mo's expression remained unreadable. "Then I have a far simpler solution. I will directly appoint my own governor to oversee your world."
Silence fell over the chamber.
Though the nobles had anticipated some level of assertiveness, they had not expected Qin Mo to state it so plainly, without even a pretense of negotiation.
"Talon II will be governed as I see fit." he continued. "I will have direct control over your population. I will have unrestricted access to your resources. I will wield authority over your armies. Talon II is a prize of war. And I will claim it, just as I have claimed the Hive World Talon I."
His voice was calm, absolute.
"This system-wide war was my doing. Talon II is one of my spoils."
The declaration left no room for argument.
None dared challenge him.
It wasn't merely fear, it was the sheer unexpected bluntness of his claim.
Before this meeting, the nobility of Talon II had theorized that Qin Mo might indirectly control their world. None had expected him to dispense with all pretenses. Under ordinary Imperial law, they could have petitioned Terra, appealed to tradition, or played rival factions against each other. But Qin Mo's fleets and armies were in orbit, his forces controlled the ground, and the Ecclesiarchy itself now preached that he was the Emperor's instrument. Against such a coalition, there was no political lever they could pull.
"You are all Loyalists," Qin Mo finally said. "You fought against the Heretics, and that is a service I will not forget. You will keep your titles. Your wealth. Your honor."
They had earned their place.
In a world where seventy percent of the population had turned traitor, these men and women had sacrificed everything to resist. Without their financial backing, the Resistance would have starved.
Qin Mo respected that.
But respect did not mean leniency.
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