Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 282 - 283 – A Birthday Bash for Mars?!

Mars. Outer Atmosphere.

Whoosh—

A massive red-and-black mechanical ark tore out of the Warp.

This was a Mechanicus Ark, part of the Adeptus Mechanicus' endless pursuit of knowledge across the stars.

It was colossal—far surpassing even the ships of the Imperial Navy.

Its immense mass generated its own gravity field, like an unstable satellite.

Even more terrifying, this Ark carried the finest technology the Mechanicus could offer.

Its weapons exceeded those of the Navy in both power and range. Its defenses were in a league of their own.

The Ark was so precious that even the destruction of an entire Forge World to awaken its machine spirit was considered an insignificant cost.

Now, the red-and-black Ark "Oudia", plowed brazenly past the Solar Navy's orbital defenses at the Iron Ring, ignoring them completely as it approached Mars' atmosphere.

The gravity field it carried disrupted Martian weather systems—whipping up sandstorms across multiple hive cities.

It was a bold, overwhelming display of force.

And it was only the beginning.

As space around Mars rippled, more Mechanicus fleets emerged from the Warp.

These were fleets from over thirty conservative Forge Worlds.

They paraded their power brazenly before the Imperium's garrisons, before Holy Terra, and the rest of the Forge Worlds.

...

Temple of the Omnissiah.

"Do you see that?"

Oud Oudia Raskian stared fanatically into orbit, admiring his Ark flagship and the armada behind it.

He was immensely proud: "This is the will of the Fabricator General of Mars!"

And this was only the vanguard. Dozens more Forge World fleets were still en route.

The force he had gathered rivaled any Imperial military arm—perhaps even surpassed it.

This was the strength of the Mechanicus.

For days, Oudia had been furious—

Many Forge Worlds had dared to send protests, harshly questioning him—demanding his resignation.

How utterly arrogant!

Mars HQ's long-standing peace had made people forget to fear him.

They'd forgotten that he, the Fabricator General, was one of the most powerful beings in the Imperium.

He commanded unfathomable destructive might.

It was intolerable.

He needed to punish these rebellious upstarts to maintain his authority.

Oudia browsed through a growing list of protesting Forge Worlds.

A dangerous trend.

If he didn't strike back, the criticism would only escalate.

Some fool might even dare to challenge Mars directly—causing the situation to spiral further.

He had no choice now.

He had to unleash his wrath and crush them completely!

Like a supreme sovereign, Oudia scanned the names on the list—

choosing several unfortunate Forge Worlds for punishment.

"Go forth, in the name of the Omnissiah— Make them kneel to my will!"

He handed the names to his subordinates, ordering the fleets to launch a brutal crackdown.

The dissenters would learn how laughably weak and pathetic their resistance was.

His fleets, freshly assembled, fanned out and launched attacks on the protesting Forge Worlds—

All under the guise of purging heretics from the Mechanicus.

Orbital defenses were destroyed. Titans, Imperial Knights, and Cybernetic Guards were deployed.

The defenders were overrun.

Rebels—especially the Forge Directors—were captured and sent to Mars for judgment.

Their holdings and assets? Swiftly carved up and claimed by the conservatives.

...

"You're a blight on the Mechanicus, Oudia!"

"You can kill us, but not our pursuit of knowledge!"

"Omnissiah, punish Oudia!"

"Your end is near!"

...

Mount Arxia, Mars.

Atop the mountain stood the Tower of Penance, soaring into the heavens.

Countless metal cages lined its height.

Inside were imprisoned rebels, left under the harsh Martian sun as punishment

for their disrespect and betrayal of Mars and the Fabricator General.

Day and night, they cursed him.

But their voices would never reach Oudia's ears.

He didn't care.

Once the situation stabilized, he would host a grand trial—and personally execute these fools.

After brutally quelling several Forge Worlds, Oudia issued a new edict—

Announcing the fate of the traitors.

To remind the galaxy of Mars HQ's authority—and his own.

He warned the other Forge Worlds to obey Mars' orders,

and not to follow the path of the heretics.

Or they too would suffer Mars' wrath.

...

Temple of the Frictionless Pistons. Oil Pool.

Oudia soaked comfortably in sacred machine oil, maintaining his cybernetic body.

A subordinate approached:

"My lord, our fleets request permission to suppress more rebels!"

To the conservative faction, this was a golden opportunity

to divide and claim their rivals' worlds.

They were eager—hungry for expansion.

"Is that so?"

Oudia, unsurprised, handed over another list:

"Let them go. Let the will of Mars and the Fabricator General be fulfilled!"

This was good.

It allowed the conservatives to expand and seize more territory and tech.

"Perhaps... we can get even more..."

He was in a very good mood.

His iron-fisted tactics had stabilized the situation. Protests were dwindling.

Once things calmed further, he would offer a few select Forge Worlds knowledge

from Mars' secret vaults.

A token of goodwill—to pacify the masses.

Meanwhile, the conservatives would grow stronger.

And Oudia's power within the Imperium would only deepen.

Now, he only had to wait on Mars.

The safest place in the galaxy—even more so than Holy Terra.

As the heart of the Mechanicus, Mars had defenses rivaling the Throneworld.

For millennia, it had crushed every invader.

Even the mighty Necrons had suffered a catastrophic defeat here—

adding to Mars' ever-growing defenses.

Sure, some radical Forge Worlds might try to rebel.

But Mars could never be shaken by them.

So long as he remained on Mars—

He was untouchable.

Most of the galaxy had already bent the knee to Mars and to him.

They no longer dared to speak out.

Oudia sank deeper into the oil bath, basking in it.

The dissenters had already lost.

...

Edge of the Solar System.

In deep space.

A stealth vessel from Urth's Mechanicus moved silently beneath the Aetheric Veil.

"Ugh! When the hell is the Mecha Forum coming back?!"

Kaul was agitated. "Savior, why don't we just bring in the army and blow Mars to bits?

Feels like we'd win easily!"

Eden replied coolly: "We can't. If we act, we'll draw the ire of both the Imperium and the Mechanicus..."

"But if we wait any longer, that bastard Oudia is going to win!"

Eden took a sip of cola and shot him a glance:

"Who said he's winning?"

"Isn't he?" Kaul complained. "We've waited so long. Not a single fleet has come to attack Mars.

The Mechanicus cowards don't even dare to protest anymore. It's dead silent..."

"That's good. That silence is what we want—

It means the fight has entered its most dangerous phase..."

Eden had a different perspective.

"Ever heard the saying: 'One either erupts in silence—or dies in it'?"

According to intel—

The noise from the Forge Worlds was fading. Protests dwindled.

Many assumed Oudia had suppressed the rebellion.

But Eden believed the opposite—

He'd lost control completely.

The fiery anger of the Tech-Priests had gone—

Replaced with chilling silence.

But it wasn't submission.

In such times, silence was the most terrifying thing.

Oudia, lost in his power games, likely didn't understand.

But Eden had experience.

Urth had once gone through a resource crisis, a time of constant riots and chaos.

Eden, as planetary governor, had personally handled many protests—

And read far too many frontline reports.

One conclusion stood out:

The louder the protests, the less dangerous they were.

People screamed and cried because they still hoped to be heard.

Meet a few of their demands—and they'd quiet down.

Even a token gesture was often enough.

Because their goal was never violence—only to be acknowledged.

But when the crowds fell silent—that's when things turned deadly.

In that silence—rage and bloodlust fermented.

It meant people had given up.

They no longer hoped for justice. They weren't even asking for solutions.

They were only thinking—

Who deserves to die.

And by the time it reached that point—

No amount of apology or action could stop it.

Only fire and steel could answer.

Any official with experience would know:

Deploy all troops immediately—or run for your life.

If you're lucky enough to get the chance.

Or else, the crowd would rip you to pieces.

Now, the Forge Worlds had fallen silent.

This meant their fury had crystallized into murderous intent.

Mars' ancient prestige could no longer suppress it.

After all—for Tech-Priests, knowledge was everything.

And Oudia had banned the Mecha Forum.

A sin worse than murder.

If anyone dared make a sound now—

That pent-up fury would explode, washing away everything—

Even a Fabricator General. Even a High Lord.

Kaul, after hearing the Savior's logic, rubbed his hands in excitement.

He was already planning his test run on Mars, to see how his new armaments performed.

He patted his dad's skull—a heavily armed super-heavy servoskull.

"Father, when we get to Mars, we'll show those crusty old conservatives the power of the Sally family!"

After all, the Sally family had plenty of old grudges with the conservatives.

Suddenly, Kaul asked an important question:

"How long before the Forge World fleets reach Mars?"

Eden smiled slightly:

"Let the bullets fly for a bit..."

...

Stygies VIII.

The whole Forge World was eerily quiet.

Operations continued as normal.

Tech-Priests neither protested nor demonstrated. They kept working—

Occasionally glancing coldly at the closed Mecha Forum.

Between tasks, they quietly upgraded their augmetic weapons—

Outfitting labs and vehicles with heavier firepower.

They seemed to be waiting.

Forge Palace.

In the central hall, high-ranking members gathered for a meeting.

"Director, we must unite with other Forge Worlds and remove Oudia!"

"Yes! We must take a stand!"

The two deputy directors were firm.

Since the Mecha Forum's shutdown, their Forge Director had taken no position.

Unlike other worlds, he had not opposed the edict or condemned Oudia.

The leadership was getting restless.

"Protest? And what good will that do?"

The Director raised a brow:

"We can curse him all we want—think he'll step down?"

"You still don't get it. Oudia's already seized total control of the Mechanicus Council.

Now it's his word that rules."

"No matter how loud we protest—it's meaningless."

An elderly Magos sighed, "Then what can we do? Are we helpless?"

"You've been bound by Mars' illusion of authority for too long."

The Director shook his head.

"Why must we follow official channels to solve our problems?"

"Omnissiah... you mean we should start a rebellion and kill Oudia?!"

The elder Magos turned pale.

No one had dared think such thoughts in millennia.

Mars was the strongest firepower hub in the Mechanicus—

and guarded by the heart of the Imperium.

"What rebellion? Who's rebelling?"

The Director feigned innocence.

"We're going to support Mars. To root out the heretical elements hiding in HQ."

"This is justice. No one is more loyal than us."

Clunk... Clunk...

He stood and walked out. The others followed—onto the palace balcony.

"Gentlemen, I've already made preparations. Today—we depart for Mars!"

He tilted his head upward.

The others looked—and saw a massive Ark Mechanicus approaching Stygies VIII—

Blocking out the sun.

He'd arranged everything in secret.

To get the upper hand, they had to strike fast.

"Begin boarding. Take all available firepower!"

His command was resolute.

"Yes, sir!"

The red-robed deputy wasted no time issuing orders to the entire Forge World.

BZZZ—

The moment the command was issued—

Cheering erupted across the world, echoing up to the palace balcony.

Tech-Priests everywhere rushed to arm themselves, dragging out their biggest guns.

In orderly fashion, they moved to designated locations and began boarding.

"Director... is it just us?" asked the elder Magos, still uncertain.

"No... Stygies is only one of many."

The Director replied slowly:

"I know for a fact—many Forge Worlds are coming. Far more than you can imagine."

—

Mars. Temple of the Frictionless Pistons. Oil Pool.

"Seems like those cowards on Terra really fear the will of Mars..."

Oudia stretched his mechanical limbs, sneering.

After his crackdown, Holy Terra had sent letter after letter—

Asking about the state of the Mechanicus.

They begged him not to push further—lest more chaos erupt.

They even pleaded with him.

The Imperium had just launched the Indomitus Crusade—

They couldn't afford more Forge Worlds being destroyed.

Oudia could picture the arrogant High Lords, gritting their teeth

as they begged him in writing.

They feared the Mechanicus.

They couldn't live without him.

He grinned at his subordinates:

"Reply to them all. Tell them that under the Fabricator General's will, the Mechanicus is at peace.

We don't need their fake concern."

"My lord, there's one letter that needs your personal attention..."

It was from the Regent of the Imperium, Primarch Roboute Guilliman.

"Oh? A letter from the Primarch? I should enjoy this..."

The parchment had been relayed by astropath and inscribed by a shrine-bound automaton.

As expected, Guilliman sternly rebuked him—warning him to deescalate.

"Ah, the Primarch is upset..."

Oudia sighed—without a hint of fear.

He knew—

The Primarch cared deeply for the Imperium, for his crusade.

And he was a strict politician—one who played by the rules.

Not a mad butcher.

So long as he stayed rational—there was nothing he could do.

Would Guilliman really tear up the Treaty of Mars?

Or assassinate a High Lord in broad daylight?

Impossible.

No one could risk the wrath of the Fabricator General if they failed.

Oudia tossed the letter aside and returned to his oil bath.

He wasn't planning to respond anytime soon.

He'd wait until the situation was completely under control—

Let Guilliman stew a little longer.

Only then would he respond—at his leisure.

Let the Imperium see just how vital the Fabricator General truly was.

Even the Primarch had to respect him!

He bathed in this fantasy—already picturing himself revered across the galaxy.

Then suddenly—

"MY LORD—BAD NEWS!!"

A messenger burst in—tumbling into the oil.

Oudia yanked him up: "What is it?"

"Reb—rebels... they're attacking Mars!!"

"WHAT?!"

Oudia was stunned.

He struggled out of the oil and onto a conveyor platform—

Rushing to a balcony.

He reactivated the comms he'd silenced.

Dozens of alerts poured in.

"Stygies VIII, leading a rebel fleet, has arrived in Martian orbit!"

Oudia looked up—

A massive Ark led an enormous fleet toward Mars.

He turned furiously to his subordinates:

"Recall all fleets! Reinforce Mars!"

This rebel fleet was large—but not unbeatable.

As long as the conservative defenders held out—reinforcements would crush them.

"Omnissiah... my lord..."

A subordinate's electronic voice trembled with fear:

"I... I don't think we'll get reinforcements in time..."

"What do you mean?!"

Oudia roared—then followed his subordinate's gaze—

"IMPOSSIBLE!"

He lost his balance—falling clumsily onto the conveyor.

In just moments, more rebel fleets had arrived.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

To the naked eye—

Countless warships, like stars, burst from the Warp—

So dense and layered they blotted out the skies around Mars.

(End of Chapter)

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