Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor-Chapter 242 - 243 – Is Chaos Preparing for a Major Offensive?

The Moon.

Voom—

Amid a long asteroid belt, small mining vessels buzzed like bees, harvesting minerals.

Moments later—

They received new orders and hurriedly pulled away from the belt.

Whoosh—

Space distorted, pulverizing some nearby asteroids, as a giant vessel nearly ten kilometers in length suddenly emerged from warp—the Dreamweaver had returned.

It slowly pushed aside the floating debris, setting course for the lunar surface.

On the bridge:

Eden gazed at the moon's slightly reddened terrain, furrowing his brow.

The Ork situation was dire.

By plan, the Orks would be temporarily stationed on the moon to rest and train under supervision.

He skimmed the newly sent documents, checking progress on the project.

Grand Sage Moss and his staff at the Bio-Research Institute had begun efforts to restore the Orks' fighting spirit.

Meanwhile, the Department of Military Affairs was in urgent talks about providing the Orks with a suitable flagship.

Navy representatives were complaining bitterly. They'd just had a cruiser taken by Big Barrel of the Children of Humanity, and now they had to supply a ship for the "damned Orks."

But Eden's decree was absolute.

At least their complaints gained them more resources in compensation.

"Hopefully they'll settle on a plan soon…"

Eden sighed.

He had a strong feeling that the warp's turbulence was growing—a bad omen.

Time was not on his side.

Rumble…

The Dreamweaver touched down on the lunar surface.

Several docking hatches opened, letting the crew drive out engineering craft to begin unloading the Orks, as well as sterilizing the compartments afterward.

Simultaneously, massive transport ships departed from Urth's spaceport, heading to the moon.

They carried entire engineering battalions and supplies to build a specialized facility here.

Eden soon returned to the transport bay holding the Orks.

He tried numerous methods to stimulate their aggression, all with little effect.

Even threatened with mortal danger, they barely reacted—just mild attempts at self-preservation.

After a few tries, he gave up. Best to leave it to Moss and the real experts.

Construction of the base would take time, and the "Ork Restoration Plan" was still under research.

This gave Eden the window to attend to other matters.

He hopped on a dropship back to Urth Sanctuary, visiting Kaul's mechanicus workshop to check on the progress of various projects.

Kaul currently oversaw multiple major research initiatives, but Eden was most interested in the Blackstone Throne improvement plan.

Everything hinged on whether the throne could be modified to free him from its constraints.

He couldn't be tethered there forever, and its efficiency was too limited.

According to Kaul's proposal, they'd deploy a warp-energy siphon to draw power directly from the Small Sun, using that as the throne's energy source.

The throne's operations would be guided by Webby (the AI), tying the throne into the aeldari Webway for faster route planning, opening, and closing gates more efficiently.

All of that was still theoretical.

Inside the lab:

Kaul's many mechadendrites danced while his various electronic eyes scanned multiple data displays streaming endless lines of code.

"Not bad at all!"

Eden walked over, pleased to see Kaul working so diligently.

He quickly realized Kaul was simply scrolling through some Mechanicus forum, apparently flame-warring in multiple threads.

Eden's face darkened. "Damn you, you oily tin-can man."

Without even looking up, Kaul responded with an overly friendly tone, "Savior, sir, a warm welcome to my brilliant laboratory~"

"How's the Blackstone Throne project going?"

"Progress is on track. We're now in the 'creative spark' phase—almost there, 10101011101010…"

Even as he spoke, Kaul spewed a string of binary that sounded suspiciously like insults at someone else online.

Eden just sighed silently.

Creative spark phase? Sure.

Unimpressed, he had Webby pull up the actual project logs for a direct report.

Webby had full access to the territory's data. It quickly retrieved the logs for the Blackstone Throne improvement, listing the experiment's day-by-day developments.

From the logs, Eden saw the project had hit a bottleneck: Kaul hadn't found a suitable medium to channel the Small Sun's warp energies.

So the best conduit so far remained Eden's own body.

Kaul was, however, working on an alternative approach: he had cloned a specialized "psionic clone" of Eden designed to withstand high-level warp shocks.

Though some technical hurdles remained, he was trying.

Satisfied with that update, Eden also went to a few other research facilities to check how they were doing on automating Eldar psychic technologies.

In truth, he didn't need to physically inspect them—Webby data feed was enough.

But showing up in person boosted morale.

After a few days of such inspections, Eden had a broad overview of progress on the Eldar automation project.

They'd overcome key obstacles with surprisingly good results.

If no surprises occurred, within a few years they could start producing prototypes.

With that done, he visited the Loyal Progeny Academy. Education was always a major concern of his, as the Academy's gifted students would shape the territory's future.

...

Loyal Progeny Academy, Grand Auditorium.

A statue of the Savior stood in the center, solemn and imposing.

Tens of thousands of students sat in neat rows, hopeful and excited, some with tears in their eyes.

These were the Academy's top performers, gathered for the rare chance to see the great Savior in person.

Even the teachers felt honored, their posture straight as boards.

Only the best of them could enter this auditorium to meet the Savior face to face—a pinnacle of their teaching careers!

At the Academy's arrangement, Eden delivered a speech, then presented medals of honor to a selection of outstanding teachers and students.

More importantly, they received precious blessing slots.

Those chosen would be ecstatic, along with their families.

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A single blessing slot meant joining the upper echelons of the territory.

By tradition, if a noble family gained that slot, they'd all gather at the chapel daily for a month of devout prayers to the Savior, then host feasts, inviting friends and allies to celebrate this glorious event.

For commoner families, there was a similar but simpler ceremony.

Eden, however, knew little about the specific celebrations.

After all, the domain had grown to more than a dozen planets with a population of several hundred billion.

He simply couldn't keep up with everything at that scale.

On the stage:

A tall, 21-year-old by the name of Voladi slowly approached. He was from the Naval Academy and would receive his medal from Eden directly.

He was trembling with excitement, doing his best to keep proper decorum.

Meeting the Savior in person was Voladi's lifelong dream, as well as that of his mother, Arila.

For years, she had recounted how Eden dispatched an "angel" to save her and praised her contributions, leaving her with a deep sense of gratitude.

Yet her regret was never being able to thank him in person.

Now, Voladi had the chance at last.

He intended to voice that gratitude on his mother's behalf.

Standing beside other top students on the stage, he awaited that moment.

Finally, Eden came to him. He looked so merciful and approachable!

Voladi was in a daze as Eden pinned the medal to his chest. Gathering his nerve, he opened his mouth, voice quivering:

"S-Savior, sir, I…"

"Study hard," Eden gave the standard, catch-all advice. In truth, he had the same lines for each student.

He found it odd how nervous this one was, but the young man had done well academically.

If he'd graduated a year earlier, he could already be commanding a large warship. Too bad.

Eden patted Voladi's shoulder gently, giving him a look of encouragement before moving on to present medals to the next student.

Voladi stood there, mind blank, simultaneously disappointed at missing his chance to speak but overjoyed by Eden's personal encouragement.

Soon he calmed himself:

No matter. As long as he achieved greater achievements in the future, there would be another chance to bring his mother to meet the Savior and express her thanks personally.

Looking at the soon-to-graduate students, Eden couldn't help recalling his last visit, fifteen years ago.

That first batch of youngsters had grown up, many now pillars of the domain.

By age, he was already about fifty.

"Time flies; I'm practically an old man," Eden mused, though his youthful, sharply defined features made him look younger than some of the older students.

He might outlive generation after generation, watching them flourish and fade.

"Uncle Eden!"

A bright, lively voice rang out. Milia approached him with her twin brother, Shahim, both radiating confidence.

Eden smiled, carefully pinning their medals.

He patted Shahim's shoulder:

"Not bad. Once you officially graduate in a few days, you'll be recognized as an official Rogue Trader."

These twin siblings—Milia and Shahim from the Govendi line—were now twenty-one.

Eden had rescued them years ago, placing them in the Loyal Progeny Academy. They'd studied and trained there for sixteen years.

It was time for them to head out on their own.

But to truly inherit the family trade license and become recognized as legitimate Imperial Rogue Traders, they faced a complicated certification process in the Imperium.

They needed the Emperor's official sanction to roam the Imperium freely.

Which meant Eden would have to take the siblings to Holy Terra, an even greater challenge.

Because Urth was stuck in the Imperium's "dark zone"; without a stable fast-route, they'd never reach the heart of the Imperium.

Sigh… Eden sighed inwardly.

And we're back to the Webway. If the Webway can't be reclaimed, many things remain impossible.

Time marched on, and Eden's urgency grew.

After the medal ceremony, Eden politely declined the Academy's invitation to an evening banquet, rushing back to the Moon.

He'd just received a message from Moss: the "Ork Restoration Plan" was ready to implement, and the experiments were about to begin!

…

A year passed.

On the Moon:

Within an oval-shaped research base, tens of thousands of staff, including Grand Sage Moss, were stationed.Countless engineering teams also operated there.

On the open-air terrace, Eden watched as a giant cruiser slowly approached overhead.

It measured close to eight kilometers.

The Department of Military Affairs had spared no expense, providing a cruiser as the Orks' capital ship—likely never to return.

They'd practically gutted its interior, leaving only the engine, power field, and a few critical systems, then made some basic structural modifications:

Allocated areas for an Ork breeding farm, Barracks, Armory, etc.

Essentially, they left large open zones for the Orks themselves to develop.

In short order, the project teams loaded the million or so Orks, along with all the Gretchin and squigs, onto that "Ork Mothership."

Researchers selected a segment of them as test subjects to see how to reignite Orkish aggression.

Once aboard, Eden did an inspection tour of their living quarters.

The Orks still appeared half-dead, limp and indifferent.

Gretchin bustled around, feeding them, and now even the Gretchin were growing plump because no one was bullying or eating them.

"Look at those cunning runts, all fat and jolly…" Eden sighed.

Lucky for him, the Gretchin were doing most of the feeding, which saved a lot of manpower.

About twenty minutes later, the hovercar carried Eden into a sprawling forested area, fresh air and birdsong all around.

This forest took up about a tenth of the Mothership's total space, a synthetic environment using advanced biotech to replicate their original conditions.

They'd even transported soil from Kanda to keep the Orkish fungal ecology as authentic as possible.

The agriculture specialists were carefully fertilizing, injecting nutrients into the soil.

Not far away, Gretchin jumped up and down, upset at having their old job taken. But they wouldn't dare attack any humans—those belonged to Eden Bro, after all.

Countless giant green mushrooms had been replanted across the forest.

If the current Orks ended up hopeless, these mushrooms would birth the next wave.

Experts predicted that in about two years, those mushrooms would yield around three hundred thousand new Orks.

That was a fallback plan, at least.

…

Another year passed.

Inside the research base:

A sealed glass chamber. Researchers used a robotic arm to inject a drug into an Ork.

The drug was designed to force the Ork into a frenzy, heightening aggression.

Observing outside, Eden and Moss waited anxiously. This was their fifth trial. All previous attempts had failed.

In earlier trials, they tried various interventions to revive Orkish morale, but none succeeded—until now.

This time, the idea was to artificially induce a frenzied state so the Ork would be forced into a life-or-death fight with an evenly matched foe, thereby regaining its lost confidence.

Waaagh!

The drug worked. The once-lethargic Ork roared madly, pounding the floor.

It desperately needed something to unleash its pent-up violence upon.

Clang, clang, clang—

From above, a huge metal cage descended, containing a raging Chaos beast that snarled and thrashed at the bars.

Researchers had selected it carefully to be an even match for the Ork, ensuring both sides had to fight with their lives on the line.

"Phew… let's hope it survives."

Eden held his breath, pressing the big red button on the control panel.

The cage's lock clicked open; the Chaos beast leaped out in a frenzy.

Roar!!!

Ork and Chaos beast slammed into each other, tearing flesh as blood splattered everywhere.Their violent collisions shook even the reinforced chamber walls.

Eden watched in silence.

This was their final plan. If it failed, they'd have to start from scratch and run out of time soon.

Luckily, the Ork managed a final burst, ripping off its foe's head at the last moment.

It won!

Despite being riddled with wounds and barely able to stand, it still forced itself upright for a triumphant roar.

Waaaagh—

Cheers erupted in the control room.

Eden felt the Ork reconnecting to that intangible Orkish field, regaining the power of the "I Finkz…" effect.

So the experiment worked.

They had discovered a way to restore Ork aggression!

With success confirmed, the entire base went into overdrive, mass-producing that frenzied stimulant.

They planned a single large-scale operation to restore the entire Ork population.

…

Inside the "Ork Mothership," in the main living quarters:

Almost all of the Orks had been assembled.

Gretchin scurried about with crates of the stimulant, jabbing Orks randomly with syringes before hurrying to the next one.

Pretty soon, the Orks at the front lines began roaring violently, smashing and bashing anything in sight—sometimes each other.

Hearing the rising chaos, the Gretchin squealed and ran for the safety pods. As soon as they finished the last injections, they jumped inside and sealed the hatch.

A few unlucky Gretchin were locked out, shrieking and pounding on the doors.

But the chaos closed in, and the survivors scattered in panic. Some got caught by rampaging Orks, ending up a nice midday snack.

That was only the start.

Outside, a Navy frigate approached, connecting a mechanized transport corridor.

Within its holds were hundreds of thousands of captive Chaos beasts, reared in the deep hives' "Chaos Beast Preserves" by the Bio-Research Institute.

Slam—

As soon as the transport corridor opened, the savage beasts poured into the Ork Mothership.

A deafening clamor of war cries and roars exploded almost immediately.

Blood-soaked carnage began—only one side could survive.

On the bridge:

Eden chose not to watch the live feed, waiting patiently for a final outcome.

"Do you think the Orks can pull it off?" he asked Moss anxiously.

This war's outcome would decide whether he had a formidable Ork army at his disposal.

Moss's mechanical voice was unwavering:

"Savior, sir, we will certainly triumph…"

Suddenly, the roars intensified, and Eden turned toward the monitor.

Steelfang was forcibly tearing off the head of a giant Chaos beast, releasing a mighty roar.

A chain reaction erupted as the Orks roared throughout the Mothership, their echoes reaching all the way to space.

They had won.

Eden was thrilled and immediately had them compile data:

Surprisingly, casualties weren't that high—some 800,000 Orks survived the melee, and their overall combat strength was already back to around 80% of what it was before.

But that was still not enough. Eden needed them stronger than ever!

Fortunately, the training plan was already in place.

A team of the Loyal Progeny Academy's instructors boarded the Mothership to drill the Orks, using the same methods they used on new Space Marine recruits.

The Thunder Guardians and Void Angels dispatched veterans as well, sparring with Steelfang and other Ork bosses.

The Mechanicus assigned tech-priests to teach them engineering knowledge.

Meanwhile, the Department of Military Affairs shipped in load after load of gear:

Superheavy Venomblade Tanks

Sentinel walkers

Self-propelled artillery

As well as personal equipment like power armor, bolters, chainswords, lasguns, flamers…

They even brought them a handful of frigates, atmospheric fighters, and assault craft for the Ork Mekboyz to tear apart and tinker with.

Endless 3D printers and raw materials arrived so the Mekboyz could build to their hearts' content.

In short, they gave the Orks every possible tool to push their strength and tech to the limit, as quickly as possible.

Within half a year, the Ork warband grew by leaps and bounds:

Individual Orks became far stronger.Their discipline improved.

Technologically, they rapidly mechanized.

The Mekboyz even built Ork power armor and smaller starships.

In fact, the Ork inventions amazed the tech-priests, who felt they simply couldn't compare.

Truly unstoppable creativity.

If they had more time, Eden would have liked to see them attempt an orbital defense station.

The territory didn't have that technology, but maybe with a few pointers and enough raw materials, the Orks might just figure out something.

In terms of high-end combat potential:

Armored in Ork-style power suits, the Ork bosses were now on par with the Void Angels.

Steelfang—enhanced by a second blessing, gaining a minor "devour flesh for growth" ability—was absolutely monstrous.

Standing four meters tall, clad in fearsome red-and-yellow power armor, sporting brand-new, multi-functional steel jaws, he looked downright terrifying.

Power-wise, he could match Chapter Master Duke in a one-on-one.

Steelfang's dominance further spurred the Orks' growth.

The newly revitalized Ork warband, thrumming with discipline and destructive might, left the human officers like Duke and A'Rey stunned.

A'Rey couldn't help admitting that if it had been this Ork horde he'd encountered, it would've been a nightmarish war—requiring at least fifteen full Imperial Guard armies plus every Marine Chapter just to stand a chance.

Thankfully, they were allies now, personally raised by Eden.

Watching his Orks thrive, Eden felt confident.

They were more than ready to purge the Webway.

At this point, with no new war to fight, their progress had pretty much peaked.

But Eden still wasn't quite satisfied.

He had about three months left. Without a real war to feed on, how else could they keep advancing?

He soon found inspiration from Khorne's example.

He established a combat ranking board inside their psychic network, awarding points based on duels and teeth taken.

The Orks who didn't fight got shunned; those who did grew stronger and more respected.

He had the engineering teams build a massive arena in the center of the Mothership.

The Orks went wild—day and night, they fought incessantly, piling up personal kill-scores.

Crowds watched and cheered, loving every match.

Thus, the entire Ork warband immersed itself in ceaseless combat, steadily gaining more power.

Sure, the casualty rate was not small, but their strength as a whole soared once more.

In the end, seeing the Orks' unstoppable rise, Duke and the others couldn't help feeling anxious.

A'Rey marveled that if these Orks had appeared before, the territory's entire armed forces might have been insufficient to contain them.

Good thing the Orks were loyal to Eden.

With everything set, Eden just had to wait a few more months for the maximum possible buildup of the Blackstone Throne's reservoir.

Then he'd unleash the Ork warband into the Webway to exterminate the daemons.

…

Three months later.

When the Blackstone Throne's capacity was nearing its limit, Eden prepared to deploy the Orks.

But on a late night:

Aboard the Dreamweaver, Eden, about to sleep, sensed a ripple in the warp.

It was a message from Balor, deep in Khorne's realm.

Balor said that Khorne's legions were mobilizing for war—not a single warlord, but a full-scale muster.

At the same time, several more hidden "schemers" Eden had planted in other Chaos realms sent matching reports.

Eden sat up abruptly, alarmed. "All four Chaos Gods are on the move?"

According to these messages, it might not be just them—other Chaos forces were stirring too.

Something big was happening on the Chaos side!

In Warhammer terms, the warp reflected realspace like a dark mirror.

Any massive upheaval—emotional or spiritual—would cause ripples on the warp's surface.

So if the warp was agitated, something major was brewing out in the real cosmos!

(End of Chapter)

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