/Centaurus Reach, letter of notice/

/By order of Master Overseer Klaffus Medes, Adeptus Administratum/

=Forward.

Let it be known to all servants of His Most Blessed Majesty that the three sectors comprising the Centaurus Reach are hereby shifted to the status of Case Yellow Level 33.(For a complete explanation of Sector Defense Classification Codes please contact your local Administratum Office and request Form 54-99-DC39 for authorization of further explanation)

To facilitate the ongoing efforts of the 798th Tithe Fleet currently operating in the Centaurus Reach, it is expected of every Imperial official to accommodate the Orders of Acquisition A13 through K78 to the letter, (for full explanation of Acquisition protocols, refer to your local Administratum Office and request Form 47-21-RT57 for authorization of receiving Form 888-34-YY10 to permit the release of Diagram 666-12D-JK88 which provides a sufficient overview of the topic for the layman citizan. A more detailed description requires data verification via double-check system that require the further request of Forms 54-65-UL3, and 54-11-BB12 followed by a confirmation period of 7-30 days.)

Failure to properly follow Acquisition mandates will receive fines and censures appropriately.

In explanation of the tithe already paid to the 234th Tithe Fleet this anum, it is the consensus of the senior acolytes of the Administratum that the 798th Tithe Fleet will continue it's holy duty, as the records pertaining to the 234th Tithe Fleet's activity in the region do not appear in the Segmentum archives, so we of this most efficient and holy adeptus must conclude that the tithe set earlier this anum had never been paid. (For a full explanation of Tithe Fleet protocols, refer to your local Administratum Office and request Form 22-997-XKBY55 for authorization of further explanation.)

The Administratum thanks the Emperor's servants for their cooperation, and reminds all officials that worlds incapable of meeting the assigned quota may be asked to submit a portion of it's population to indentured service for an undisclosed number of generations.

If you find issue with the operation of the most holy Administratum, we ask that you fill out and submit Complaint Form 7885-12-BB792 in triplicate, to receive a list of forms that must also be signed in triplicate. It will then be transmitted through official channels to Holy Terra for appraisal. Please note that this process can take upwards of eighty years to complete, and it may be asked of you or your next of kin to clarify the nature of said complaint.

Thought for the day: Blessed is the mind too small for doubt.


The Iron War, that is what they called it.

Tarson Kerensky found it tempting to compare that conflict to the Old Wars of the 18th Millennium. In a way it made sense. Both were during their own time the most destructive and terrible conflicts in human history, and was with the bloody disputes with the Eldar, Vreen, and Hal-braen, he personally feared that the aftermath of the Iron War had done nothing except to ensure even greater wars would define their future as a species.

If he were a student of psychology, and if he had been tasked with diagnosing humanity as a whole it would be that they were all victims of post traumatic stress disorder. There was no single human, including himself, who did not know someone who had been killed during the war. The shock and effect of losing more than a trillion trillion people alone, a drastic cut in the gene-pool, was enough to throw mankind's foundation of ethics and principle into total disarray. The war made them patriotic, vengeful, and above all strong.

For Reclamation. It was a cry that urged his soldiers, his people towards a greater destiny upon the distant and darkened horizon.

Patriotism for the Federation, and a burning pride of being human.

And now 15,000 years later, it burned just as hotly, in spite of the ominous warning signs.

Orks were running rampant, far from the quarantine sectors they had been cornered in; humanity had grown without them, expanding to such an extent that this remote system had been colonized in the time they had been asleep.

It raised valid questions; what is out there? Is there a place in this future for me? Do we have a right to interfere?

Yes, it was tempting to draw the correlation between the Iron War and the Old Wars of the past, but we are not battered colonists and soldiers, war weary and shying away at the mere thought of armed conflict.

We are the revolutionaries. A people looking for blood, searching for a galaxy where mankind would stand redeemed and justified. A people who can't for even a moment accept that in every sense of the word's definition, we lost the Iron War, and it was only through blind luck, and the help of our more loyal creations that we managed to survive the terrible holocaust. A people who have lost everything, and were yearning endlessly to reclaim all that had been taken from them.

Reclamation.

And to all that would forestall it. Our wrath would be furious.

"Admiral, the 1201st Assault Division has completed their initial bombardment, they are now landing ground elements for the main attack," Nyx informed him as he observed another battle sector some two-hundred miles off.

"I hold no doubts for General Stryker's success, even after all this time these Greenskins never change," he replied as he switched his attention to another battle that was already on the verge of being won. He watched the icons depicting Federation Army and Marine units judiciously and efficiently dispatching the enemy held positions. Every once in a while, an icon turned black and vanished, indicating a death making him wince internally each time it happened. They traveled so far, through time itself, only to end their journey here.

It was not his business to oversee the ground operations, it was a job for the Marine and Army generals. But Kerensky felt an unspoken obligation that he should be here, he led these people to this point. Took them away from all they knew to the edge of nowhere, and further still than that. He had taken them to a future where everything they considered familiar was more than likely lost to time. And every KIA indicator felt like a failing on his part.

He was an old man, there was no denying that. Two-hundred-ninety-seven years of fighting and campaigning, he had endured the Iron War from it's beginning to it's final conclusion. He had at this point far too much memory, and not enough hope. And yet these people still looked up to him, still followed his orders and believed earnestly that he knew what he was doing. But having outlived his son, his grandchildren, and his great grandchildren, there was only one thing that kept him going. Mankind's redemption. But he was feeling his age, more so now than ever. What would happen to the Federation once he was too battered to strap on the holsters?

To be quite honest. He was incapable of settling down and simply enjoying life, he had seen too much, and it pained him every time the CMO pumped the damned juvenant chemicals into his ancient body, it was like being on life support. Without a steady supply of said chemicals, he was basically a walking corpse, just waiting for his body to finally realize it's dead, as the cells dependant on the cell recycling elixir break down. It nauseated him just thinking about it.

And looking at this war breaking upon their doorstep, he realized that many more years of strife and violence lay before him. But to advance the cause of Mankind, it was a torment he was willing to endure, for if there was one thing that humanity has made clear throughout it's sordid history, is that there is nothing made by God, by Satan, by the hands of men and xenos that Mankind could not destroy, in the end victory was the only outcome. And when that day came, he could pass from this world content he had done his job. But today, he would fight.

"Nyx, send word to all ready naval assets to prepare for uplift. We are taking this fight into Space."


A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, and for the lack of mindless Ork clobbering violence. Saving that for next chapter. Writers block has been hitting me again and again, and it is difficult to write good gritty battle scenes with an obscenely OP faction while making everything entertaining and believable. I have had to revise the plot going forward several times to keep the canon factions from being simply 'brushed aside by the winds of the Ancients greater destiny' seriously even the Orks and Dark Eldar deserve more respect than that.

For now I've decided to give you my readers a better look into what is currently going on in the region of space the Feds are prowling around in, and a deeper insight into the persona of the Federation's most powerful leader.

Until next time!