Chancellor Alexei Lev Tieron of the Imperial Senate was one of the most powerful men in the Imperium. Tieron's status rivaled that of a High Lord, and in the eyes of some factions, even surpassed them. Every time the Senate convened, issues were assessed by his hand before being put to a noble's vote.
Like many politicians, Tieron was greedy for power and pleasure—but his loyalty to the Emperor was absolute. Before the Cadia War, he had used his connections to meet with Cadia's generals and discuss the 13th Black Crusade. Thanks to his efforts, many fighting groups, including the Imperial Fists and Imperial Guard, rapidly deployed to support Cadia's defenders. Without his intervention, the battle might have ended before reinforcements even departed.
He even tried to persuade the Custodian to leave the palace and aid on Cadia's battlefield. But as soon as this issue went to vote, the Great Rift tore the galaxy asunder.
Tieron's communication channels were swifter and broader than any other High Lord—because he constantly moved between factions, balancing their interests to keep the bureaucracy running smoothly. Many departments willingly provided him with information to help fulfill his duties.
Upon hearing of the Battle of Luna from the Imperial Fists, Tieron immediately rushed to the spaceport with his entourage, eager to see the Primarch in person. Learning of Guilliman's resurrection, he quickly devised several plans to maximize Imperial interests.
"The Primarch has agreed to your request, my lord," his aide Jack reported, handing over a licensed datapad.
A tired smile appeared on Tieron's face. Since the so-called "Days of Blindness", he had been plagued by unspeakable terrors—dreams of a butcher in a spiked helm severing his head, or seeing his own reflection smile back strangely, or hearing odd voices and seeing corpses bleeding from seven holes. He injected himself daily with sleeping pills and stimulants, which only further weakened his aging body.
Tieron was convinced the Primarch's return would bring the Imperium back from the brink.
The ship docked, guided and secured. Soon, the hatch opened and the legendary figure, surrounded by the Custodian and Ultramarines, emerged. After a century crawling the Senate halls, Tieron recognized the Primarch at a glance. At that moment, he felt like a clueless child—his heart racing uncontrollably, his usual eloquence stuck in his throat.
He managed only a stammer: "Praise... praise... praise... the Emperor of Mankind, founder... Guilliman, we welcome... your return."
"Don't be nervous," Guilliman said, stepping forward, his cobalt-blue and gold-armored hand helping Tieron up. "I have been away from the Imperium too long. I urgently need officials who can help me reorganize and execute plans for the Empire's future."
Tieron felt a force surge through his body, and his speech grew more fluent. "It is my honor, my lord."
"Is there something important going on here?" Guilliman asked.
"Terra is out of control," Tieron replied. "Food shortages, panicking people, riots everywhere."
"I know," Guilliman said with disappointment. He'd known this long before.
"They need courage," Tieron continued, holding up his datapad. "Your return can give them hope and inspire them to endure."
"I've asked everyone to prepare a celebration as soon as possible, but it will take time. Please be patient until the festivities can be held."
"This is foolish," Navradaran interjected. "The Primarch should go to the Palace and see the Emperor immediately, not waste time on banquets."
After the chancellor and his guards finished talking, he spoke carefully: "No matter how hard we try, feeding all of Terra won't be quick. The extinguishing of the Astronomican has left people gripped by fear. Hunger and terror will drive them mad and give malefactors opportunities. But your return can buy time, give hope to the starving, and deter enemies poised to strike. If you could spare just one day, we could announce your return and prepare a grand ceremony to inspire the desperate masses."
Tieron looked pleadingly at the Primarch, who eventually nodded. "Tieron, you are a capable chancellor of the Imperium."
"Thank you for your praise," Tieron replied with humble gratitude.
Guilliman faced the crowd and promised Tieron one day to prepare the celebrations.
But that did not mean the day would be wasted. According to the prior plan, a team would be organized to repair the Chamber of the Astronomican and the Golden Throne. He wanted to consult Archmagos Cawl and General-Fabricator Raskian.
As the disguised Custodian member, Datch leapt down and approached the Primarch, switching between shotgun and power spear as he walked, looking rather comical. Tieron's expression twitched at the sight—he'd never seen such an abstract Custodian soldier. Navradaran sighed inwardly, worried the reputation of the Custodian would eventually be ruined by this mysterious nameless one. Most importantly, with the Emperor's blessing, no one dared comment.
"Lord Regent, is there anything I can help with?" Datch asked, golden question mark floating over his head.
Guilliman was suddenly delighted—if this man took action, there was no need to worry about the repairs to the Golden Throne or the Chamber of the Astronomican.
"The Chamber of the Astronomican is vital to Imperial navigation. Can you check its condition at Hollow Mountain and restore it?" the Primarch asked.
Soon, a mission prompt appeared before Datch:
[Mission: Repair the Chamber of the Astronomican.]
The Chamber of the Astronomican has operated for ten thousand years. Recovery has long been difficult, with many mechanical devices added over time, swelling inefficiently. After the Great Rift, a psionic shock shattered the Chamber of the Astronomican, making it impossible to restart. Roboute Guilliman is troubled by this and hopes you can go to Hollow Mountain, assess the Chamber of the Astronomican's condition, and find a way to repair it.
Mission rewards: 2000 experience points, 2000 points, reputation +500, purple gold gourd*1]
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