Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

Opening an old-fashioned flat star map of the Milky Way provided only a simplistic perspective. Scholars divided the galaxy into five regions. At the center was the Segmentum Solar, home to Terra and the solar system. This heart of the Imperium was densely populated, hosting many famous worlds. Surrounding it were four regions: the Segmentum Obscurus to the north, the Segmentum Tempestus to the south, the Segmentum Pacificus to the west, and the Segmentum Ultima to the east.

Among these, the Eastern Fringe within Segmentum Ultima was the largest, occupying much of the galaxy. However, it was a wild, sparsely populated frontier where the Imperium's influence was weakest. Many of the threats to humanity originated here, making it both a danger and an opportunity.

In the Imperial Palace, the Master of the Administratum traced his finger across the holographic star map, pointing to a distant cluster in the Eastern Fringe Star Field. "The three star systems are located in this region," he announced.

The Lord Inquisitor frowned slightly. "That's quite far," he said. "Does the empire even have control over that area?"

The Master hesitated, then admitted, "Even the Emperor's will struggles to reach such a distant place."

"That's… inconvenient," The Lord replied, his voice laced with skepticism.

At first, the reward seemed extraordinarily generous—three entire star systems, a prize of almost unfathomable scale. But as they examined the map, the reality became clear. These star systems, while vast in number, were strategically insignificant. They were located so far from the core of the empire that even the Emperor's influence waned there.

"If this is the case," the Fabricator-General chimed in, his voice mechanical and cold, "then I have no objections. The empire's presence in the Eastern Fringe is already tenuous at best. We can't effectively supply resources or offer military protection to a place so remote. A local force would be essential to establish a foothold in such a hostile region."

The Master of the Administratum nodded in agreement, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Exactly. These three star systems have been fortunate to remain untouched by major threats for the past nine thousand years, but we can't predict what the future holds. A stable human colony there will allow us to expand our influence into the Eastern Fringe, supporting both exploration and security. It serves the empire's long-term interests."

"And he will become a sentinel for the empire," the Lord Inquisitor added. "Evidence suggests new threats are emerging in the Eastern Fringe—green-skinned orks, Tau, and others we barely understand. This region remains a dangerous frontier. Even if this Kayvaan doesn't turn out to be completely loyal, the harm he could do from such a remote position is minimal. More importantly, he can help us identify and understand the enemy."

The discussion seemed to be heading toward agreement when a deep, gravelly voice broke the momentum. "You're all getting ahead of yourselves," rumbled the Lord Commander. He was an imposing figure, with a square jaw and a chest adorned with medals that spoke of countless battles fought in the Emperor's name. As the leader of the Astra Militarum, his words carried weight.

"Becoming an Sub-Sector Governors is one thing," he continued, his voice as steady as a war machine. "But the leader of a Space marine Chapter? That's another matter entirely. You cannot hand out such a title lightly."

The Master of the Administratum tilted his head. "He's a war hero—a veteran of the legendary Raven Guard. He holds a direct commission from the Emperor himself. Why wouldn't he qualify?"

The Lord Commander's gaze darkened. "By qualifications alone, he's more than capable. But have you reviewed his medical records carefully? Due to that strange curse he suffered, his body has reverted to an almost ordinary human state. While he may look unchanged, his internal injuries remain. The most recent examinations confirm that his body can no longer endure another enhancement surgery."

A heavy silence filled the room. Finally, the Master of the Administratum broke it with a sigh. "If that's the case, there's no point in discussing further. But I must ask—how do you intend to handle the Emperor's will in this matter?"

"Of course, I will follow the Emperor's will," the Lord Commander said calmly. "However, the Space Marines have their own traditions, and I cannot interfere with their practices. I do know one thing, though: it's impossible for a weak person to become one of them, let alone rise to the position of chapter master. The group will conduct their own assessment, as they always do, to ensure Kayvaan is fit for the battlefield. There's no need to worry about this matter. Let's focus on more pressing concerns."

"I understand." The Master of the Administratum nodded in agreement. Wasting no time, he shifted the discussion to the next topic. The Empire was vast, and new problems arose daily, each demanding immediate attention. There was always too much to resolve and never enough time.

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*From this part onward I will use Kayvaan as Joe already become him.

"You're saying I have the right to inherit the family estate?" Kayvaan stared at the white-haired old man in front of him, disbelief etched on his face. His voice dropped to a murmur. "Today's been… surreal. First, the Emperor's appointment letter, and now a notice of inheritance..."

The old man stood tall, exuding an air of authority and dignity. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black butler's uniform, his white gloves pristine, he looked as though he had stepped out of an oil painting from a bygone era. His silver-white hair was neatly curled, and gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose added a scholarly touch. This was no ordinary butler—he was a special envoy from the House of Nobles.

"This should not come as a surprise, Lord Kayvaan," the old man said, his gaze steady. "The responsibilities of the Shrike family fall to you now. By inheriting the name 'Shrike,' you've also inherited its obligations." He leaned forward slightly, his voice firm. "This is not a duty you can run from again, is it?"

"Run away? Of course not." Kayvaan's thoughts raced. 'Why would I run from something like this? This is an opportunity, not a burden'. He smirked inwardly, reflecting on the irony of the situation. After all, the Kayvaan who had fled his family years ago was a brash teenager in the throes of rebellion, not the man he had become.

The life and name Kayvaan had inherited were far from ordinary. His grandfather had been a legendary pionner who was granted a title and a fief by the Emperor himself, becoming one of the Sub-Sector Governors. In the Empire, these governors and nobles followed an ancient hereditary system, similar to the feudal traditions of medieval Europe. Titles were passed down through bloodlines, not merit. Unlike their medieval counterparts who ruled over land, Sub-Sector Governors ruled entire star system.