"Under the protection of the God-Emperor, the valiant Imperial Navy has crushed the feeble xenos in the void."
"Alert Star is now poised to launch a final assault on the remaining xenos, completely reclaiming Alert Star for the Imperium."
*Click*
A hand reached out and switched off the radio that had been tirelessly broadcasting propaganda.
The few soldiers responsible for recording information exchanged glances but dared not show any objection to Sith, who had reached for the switch.
On the plaza atop the tower, not far from the radio, training continued with fervent intensity.
In the distance, the supply channels, quiet since the fleet's departure, were no longer bustling. Only a dozen or so transport craft struggled to arrive, braving the Orks' barrage of fire.
One of the transports was struck in its engine, tumbling with violent flames and thick black smoke towards the Hive City below. After a massive explosion, hordes of Genestealers swarmed out, frantically looting the wreckage for any remaining supplies.
Sighing, Sith withdrew his gaze from the transport and glanced at the mountain of Departmento Munitorum propaganda leaflets piled beside the radio.
Frowning slightly at their contents, Sith picked one up.
"Great victory, great victory, great victory, more great victories..."
Sith's brow furrowed tighter the more he read, before he finally tossed the leaflet back onto the desk, his exasperation plain on his face.
It all boiled down to one sentence: the current situation wasn't just good, it was excellent!
Reflecting on the leaflet's claims, Sith looked up at the sky.
Unlike the vast majority of civilians and soldiers who saw nothing but clouds, Sith, when he looked up, could see the few remaining warships in orbit, and the billowing black smoke constantly pouring from them.
In the brief moment Sith spent looking upward, a frigate erupted in a violent explosion from its engine section. Powerless, it began a slow, inexorable descent, pulled by Alert Star's gravity towards the surface.
A flood of escape pods frantically ejected from the frigate, but far more crew met their end with their iron coffin, transforming into a towering mushroom cloud upon impact with the ground.
A gust of wind rushed from the crash site, accompanied by a faint tremor that shook the entire continent.
The soldiers of the 101st Regiment exchanged uneasy looks. Even without Sith saying a word, they sensed reality seemed quite different from the propaganda.
But while the soldiers behind him harbored simple doubts, Sith knew the situation was far more dire than anyone imagined.
For the enemy in the void wasn't some xenos force, but Abaddon's Black Crusade, the very one that had just shattered Cadia and split the galaxy in two!
And at this very moment, this Chaos Host that even the fortress world of Cadia could not stop was relentlessly advancing through the deep void towards Alert Star.
Sith reluctantly tore his eyes from the sky. In the distance, refugees cheered intermittently as the propaganda leaflets were distributed.
In their arduous, desperate lives, any news offering a shred of hope became a lifeline, spurring them to endure, again and again.
As for the truth of this news...
Sith looked away from the cheering refugees. They didn't care about truth, only hope.
"Starting today, all soldiers must adhere strictly to the 18 Terra-hour training schedule. Furthermore, the curfew is reinstated, and guard forces are to be tripled."
Sith gave the order. Officers like Bruno around him nodded silently.
After all, even disregarding the current blind obedience of the crowd towards Sith, merely witnessing the wretched state of the Imperial Navy overhead made the command seem entirely reasonable.
The sun slowly set once more on the horizon. The aroma of hot food wafted, mingling with the faint scent of lho-sticks and recaf. The night under curfew felt unnervingly quiet.
Sith did not disturb the soldiers' fragile peace, which could end at any moment. He simply returned to his office, tirelessly submitting the voluminous documentation required to elevate the 101st Regiment to the Astra Militarum.
In the office beneath the immense portrait of the God-Emperor, only the scratching of a pen could be heard. Outside the window, searchlights swept past countless times. As the first light of dawn tinged the distant sky, a violent explosion abruptly silenced the scratching beneath the God-Emperor's gaze.
Outside, the sound of many running footsteps erupted, and alarm sirens nearly shattered the quiet of the tower top.
From the Hive City below came the inexplicably excited shrieks of Genestealers. Soon, from further in the complex, came the shouts of soldiers and the roar of gunfire.
Sith listened for a moment, determined it was only a minor skirmish, and without looking up, continued his work, sliding his pen across the page.
*BANG!*
The door was flung open. Bruno strode in, his pristine storm armor stained with large patches of fresh crimson.
"Comman..."
He started to speak, but seeing Sith still Bury head (head down) filling out forms, Bruno gritted his teeth and held back.
Only when the scratching ceased did Sith put down his pen, give the documents a final check, and, satisfied, hand them to Ana beside him.
"Send these directly to the Departmento Munitorum. Don't wait for the next supply convoy."
Previously, such documents were sent back with supply convoys. Hearing Sith order them sent independently, both Ana and Bruno felt a jolt of apprehension.
Did this mean the hard-won logistical connection was about to be severed again?
Ana asked no questions, taking the report and leaving.
Then Sith finally stood up. Without waiting for Bruno to speak, he picked up his sidearm and combat blade, heading for the door.
"What's the problem?"
He asked as he walked. Bruno hurried to catch up:
"Refugee riot. Probably still many Genestealers mixed in with them."
Sith frowned slightly:
"Why the sudden riot?"
Bruno's already grim expression turned ashen, even betraying a hint of panic he could barely suppress.
Seeing this, Sith was taken aback. Had Abaddon arrived? But by his calculations, Abaddon shouldn't be here for several more months.
Sith desperately scoured his memories, searching for anything he might have missed.
As faint traces of memory about the Battle for Alert Star surfaced, Sith suddenly remembered something—a pair of bright eyes from his recollection—just as Bruno's panicked reply came.
"Water!"
Bruno stared at Sith in surprise. He didn't know how Sith had guessed, but he still gave a stiff nod:
"The Genestealers among the refugees spread word that the only water purification facility has been seized."
One could survive over ten days without food, but three days without water was pushing it.
And the masterpiece with which the Genestealers on Alert Star tore off their masks and formally stepped onto the stage was their capture of the space elevator used to obtain water resources from the outer-system ice crystal asteroid belt—seizing it right from the hands of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
The Genestealer infiltration of Alert Star had reached terrifying levels. News of Calgar's great defeat might fool ordinary humans, but the Genestealers also knew another, far more powerful enemy was approaching.
To secure an advantage in the coming chaotic battle, the Genestealers had set their sights on Alert Star's sole source of clean water.
Simultaneously, Genestealers embedded within the population spread rumors among the Mortals, sowing fear.
Watching the mixed crowd of refugees and Genestealers being slaughtered on the spot not far away, Sith glanced at the ruthless Bruno, then sighed with slight relief:
"Our clean water, if rationed, can last a while longer. We'll have Ana fabricate some equipment for water reclamation and recycling. Short-term, it shouldn't be a problem."
As he spoke, he took out his own canteen, gently shaking the clear water inside, listening to its pure sound. His face showed no severity, even a touch of ease.
But after Sith finished, Bruno's expression changed beside him, his mouth twitching several times.
Seeing Bruno hesitate to speak, Sith's motion to offer the canteen froze. His eyes opened slightly, fixing intently on Bruno.
At a time like this, someone dared to play games with the water supply?
Pinned by Sith's genuinely angered gaze, though it had nothing to do with him, Bruno's throat still moved with a dry swallow.
Then, lowering his head slightly, his face a mask of despair, he said:
"The nobles... they've taken all the water and barricaded themselves in the fortress..."
*CRUNCH!*
Bruno jumped. Looking up, he saw Sith hadn't moved. Only the canteen in his hand had been crushed in a sudden, violent grip.