The next day, Reuel boarded his flagship, Imperator Somnium, accompanied by Lord Commander Creed. Meanwhile, Admiral DuGalle personally led the formation of Gorgon-class battlecruisers from the secondary command center.
In the main tactical chamber, Reuel issued the first command.
"All fleets, prepare. Our destination: the Starship Troopers universe."
The expeditionary formation had been arranged with precision. Imperator Somnium, the vessel of the Master of Mankind, stood at the front line, flanked by three Retribution-class battleships, each serving as command centers, orbital bombardment platforms, and symbols of Imperial dominance. Alongside them, four Apocalypse-class battleships were ready to annihilate enemy fleets from long range, while two Emperor-class battleships-superheavy carriers-would launch thousands of fighters and bombers in endless waves.
Lunar, Gothic, Tyrant, and Dictator-class cruisers formed the main battle line in dozens. They were supported by Dauntless and Endeavour-class light cruisers as escorts and fast scouts. Cobra-class destroyers and Sword-class frigates operated in large squadrons, launching torpedoes and executing lightning strikes on enemy weak points.
Behind them, two hundred Gorgon-class battlecruisers carried combat units such as Terran marines, Firebats, Marauders, Medics, and starfighter squadrons. These ships were designed for atmospheric penetration and battlefield support.
Armageddon-class transports and Mechanicus Explorator vessels carried millions of ground troops: dozens of Astra Militarum regiments, Skitarii squads, and full detachments from the Legio Titanicus-with Warhound, Reaver, and even Warlord-class Titans. Some ships also carried Astartes contingents from specialized Chapters, including the Grey Knights.
Support vessels such as medical ships, logistics carriers, and atmospheric purification ships joined the fleet, ensuring that this invasion was not just conquest-but total assimilation of the target world.
The entire Imperial Navy fleet of the Imperium of Man arrived before the dimensional portal, resembling a massive Webway. Multicolored light danced across its surface as the space-time distortion began to stabilize.
"All units, hold position," Reuel ordered. He opened the digital star map and selected the coordinates for their target reality: Starship Troopers-a universe where humanity wages war against the Arachnid species.
Reuel stared at the multiverse map displayed before him. Their destination was a world where humanity had ventured into space, yet remained trapped in a brutal conflict against an alien species capable of sending egg-filled asteroids to human planets-including Mars.
He reviewed the interdimensional power comparison:
- Technology Level: Powered armor, tactical nukes, and stable FTL travel. Not transgalactic, adaptive, but lacking in weapons of mass destruction. Space fleets are weak.
- Military Strength: Elite Mobile Infantry, drop pod tactics, and planetary warfare against Arachnids.
- Economy: Military meritocracy. Centralized, efficient, and driven by wartime needs.
- Diplomatic Access and Strategy: Limited. No time travel. War declarations are absolute.
Reuel stood tall at the command center.
"Open the space-time channel. The Imperium of Man declares war on the Starship Troopers universe."
Space-time distortion began to tremble. Reality split before them. A glowing portal emerged, revealing a swirling multiverse corridor filled with energetic colors-like a cosmic neural network tearing through dimensional boundaries.
Reuel stared at the portal with a cold gaze.
"Conquer the Starship Troopers universe."
Creed and DuGalle nodded firmly. Orders were issued. The Imperial Navy expeditionary fleet advanced, one by one entering the rift in reality, the massive ships piercing dimensional boundaries in perfect formation.
The operation had begun.
---
In an instant, Imperator Somnium surged through the Immaterium rift, followed by the entire expeditionary fleet. A colossal trail of light, like the tail of a divine comet, carved through space-time as if blessed by the hand of the God-Emperor Himself. Warp engines roared like a choir of steel and plasma, chanting hymns of victory across every deck.
In the engine room, Tech-Priests recited the Canticles of the Omnissiah, turning ancient cogwheels that had endured ten millennia. Incense smoke filled the corridors, mingling with the ozone scent of plasma generators. The deep toll of the ship's bell rang three times-a sign that the warp journey had reached its end.
The warp fissure opened in the void. Imperator Somnium emerged first-majestic, crowned with gothic towers, its wings adorned with statues of war saints and the Aquila emblem. Warp light shimmered across its hull, like remnants of stardust clinging to a sacred altar.
The colossal ships of the Imperium of Man exited the vortex one by one, formation tight, like a heavenly procession watched over by the Golden Throne on Terra. Plasma fire from maneuvering thrusters flared blue, then dimmed as standard engines took over.
Reuel, Master of Mankind, stood at the main observation window. His golden robe, etched with liturgies of war, billowed in the artificial breeze from the ventilation system. His unmatched gaze pierced the void, reading the patterns of alien stars as if deciphering an ancient script only He could understand.
"Where are we now?"
The communications officer bowed respectfully before answering, his voice trembling yet filled with devotion.
"Ave Imperator, please wait a moment. We are purifying data from warp interference."
His fingers danced across the console, lips murmuring binary prayers. The surrounding vox channels were filled with whispers from the Astropathic Choir, working to discern which voices were sacred and which came from the shadows of the warp.
The officer's tone shifted-firm and full of warning:
"Based on intercepted signals, we are in AQZ-the Arachnid Quarantine Zone. This region is saturated with xenos insectoid lifeforms. Temporal analysis confirms we've arrived in the year M23.235."
The sensor officer added, "Lord Emperor, we've detected foreign spacecraft activity. They're executing hyperspace jumps from coordinates equivalent to Mars-heading toward our position."
The main holoscreen flared to life, displaying a fleet-sleek, sturdy, devoid of glory or ornamentation. Its straight lines emphasized function, not faith. Reuel recognized it instantly-the distinct aesthetic of Starship Troopers: Traitor of Mars.
Reuel rose, his voice cold yet echoing like a divine decree.
"Creed. You and DuGalle will confront that fleet. If they choose to surrender, accept it. If not... erase them from this star."
Lord Castellan Creed stood tall, clenching his fist to his chest in solemn vow.
"As You command, Ave Imperator."
Creed opened a vox channel to the entire fleet. His voice echoed through every corridor, mingling with the clatter of crew rushing to battle stations.
"All units, listen! Foreign fleet approaching. If they do not kneel before the Golden Throne, destroy them. Today, the Emperor watches us. Today, we show the galaxy that the Imperial Navy never falters in its duty."
"We are the rulers of the stars. And every ship you command is a blade of vengeance that will sever the heads of the Imperium's enemies."
"Into the jaws of death. Into the mouth of hell. Let this galaxy burn beneath His glorious light!"
The expeditionary fleet advanced. Every vessel-from grand cruisers to escorts-moved through the void. Macro-cannons were primed, torpedoes locked, and war prayers echoed through narrow halls. In the distance, the Federation fleet continued its approach, unaware they were about to face the pure wrath of the Master of Mankind.
---
Meanwhile, aboard a Federation vessel
Hundreds of Federation ships-comprising Athena-class, Corvette Transport, and Roughneck units-were advancing in battle formation toward the Arachnid planet. Their mission was clear: to annihilate the insect colony that threatened the existence of humanity.
In the main control room, the communications officer suddenly received a signal from an unidentified foreign fleet.
"Captain Rika," the officer reported tensely, "we've detected a massive foreign fleet ahead. They're transmitting a message via radio channel."
Rika rose from her seat, her eyes sharp as she stared at the tactical display.
"Bring up visual of their fleet. And what's the content of the message?"
"Please hold, Captain. They're using a non-standard communication protocol. We're still trying to interpret the radio signal," the officer replied, typing rapidly on the console.
"Visuals of the fleet will be displayed shortly," he added.
Images began to appear on the main screen. The foreign fleet loomed in space-massive ships with designs unknown to the Federation. Each vessel resembled a flying fortress, adorned with towers and structures reminiscent of gothic cathedrals. But what was most terrifying wasn't the shape-it was the scale: the ships were two to ten times larger than Federation vessels, possibly more.
Rika held her breath. Her hand clenched at the side of the command chair.
On the military frequency, other ship captains began contacting each other, their voices filled with unease.
"Who are they? Does anyone know where this fleet came from?"
"No data from Federation HQ on Earth. They're not part of our forces."
"Look at those ship designs. That's not friendly architecture. We need to prepare."
The discussion among captains grew intense, filled with speculation and tension. But everything halted when communications officers aboard each ship reported the same thing.
"Captain, we've successfully interpreted their communication channel. We've translated the message."
"Their language is a mix of English and Imperial Roman Latin," one added.
"Quick! What does the message say?" Rika demanded.
"Understood, Captain. We'll broadcast the translated message to the entire fleet."
The foreign voice began to echo across every Federation vessel. A deep, resonant voice, as if spoken from a sacred pulpit condemning the world.
Message from the Imperium of Man
The deep, echoing voice filled the command rooms of every Federation vessel. No background music, no diplomatic pleasantries. Just one voice-fanatical in conviction, absolute in threat:
"By the will of the God-Emperor of Mankind, from the Golden Throne on Terra, you-lost children of humanity scattered at the edge of the stars-are granted one chance to return to the fold of true mankind.
Submit to the laws of the Imperium, cleanse yourselves of heretical teachings and xenos influence, and surrender all weapons, vessels, and worlds under your control to the authority of the Adeptus Terra.
To refuse is to betray the blood and legacy of humanity. If you resist, you will face the unrelenting wrath of the Imperial Guard. Our macro-cannons will level your colonies, our bombs will flatten your cities, and plasma fire will burn your atmospheres to ash.
The warriors of the God-Emperor will cut you down, His war machines will crush you beneath their tread, and His orbital cannons will bring the sky itself crashing down upon your heads.
You cannot win.
In the name of the Eternal Emperor, His light shall shine upon you.
Compliance is not a choice. Compliance is a duty."
The atmosphere across the Federation fleet shifted instantly. Voices of protest and outrage erupted across inter-ship comms.
"They're insane! All of them!!"
"What the hell is this? They've got spacefaring tech but still follow some Roman-religious military doctrine?!"
"Fight these lunatics!"
Rika remained silent. Her eyes locked on the screen, her face tense but not panicked. After a few seconds, she took a deep breath and spoke calmly to the other captains.
"So... what do we do? Their ships are massive-very massive. Are you sure our kinetic weapons can breach their defenses?"
One of the captains replied, "What if we contact Earth?"
"I've tried. No response. Communications are cut off," Rika answered.
"So what's your decision?" she continued. "Fight... or not?"
Voices began to rise. Some captains hesitated, some leaned toward defense. But the majority, with unanimous resolve, chose one word:
"Fight."
Rika nodded. "Alright. It's decided. Prepare yourselves, all of you."