Because that's how the Empire is; no matter what you ask the Empire for, the only thing the Empire can eventually give you is 'people'.
Seeing that the nearby sectors couldn't be relied upon for the time being, Sith also understood why, the moment he arrived at the Alert Star, orac sent over a long list of received distress signals.
At the same time, he took the reports that not only didn't send supplies but actually hoped he would rush over to support them, glanced at them one last time, and threw them directly into the trash can.
Subsequently, Sith inquired about some other situations and roughly understood that, apart from Hyberia, which was barely intact, all other hive sectors on the Alert Star had become refugee camps with essentially no output, only consumption, so he helplessly dismissed all the officials.
Afterward, Van Roth and Daviello returned, and Bayer also finished his 'borrowing' activities. Together with Bruno, a black-gold servo-skull that had followed him to the surface, and Ana's projection, Sith explained the situation to his team.
"Just this? And they still want us to support Terra?!"
"How do we support them? By taking twenty billion refugees, empty-handed, to choke the Tyranids to death?!"
Bruno spoke first, unceremoniously pointing out the absurdity of the demands from Guilliman, Terra, and even the God-Emperor.
Even Van Roth was reading the report over and over, his brows knitted in a frown, unable to find any reason to convince himself to go to Terra.
He could only helplessly put down the report at the end, speaking as tactfully as possible:
"If we could have five to ten years, perhaps we could barely assemble a force that could be taken out."
Van Roth had been tactful enough, but everyone still cast a speechless glance at him, because Ana and orac, who were rational enough, had been calculating for so long, yet they hadn't even come up with a single slightly feasible plan.
In other words, in the cold calculations, the possibility of Sith supporting Terra with the current Alert Star was zero!
And the six-month rest period that Guilliman 'thoughtfully' gave now seemed even more like a joke.
Seeing that no one had a solution, Sith could only continue along the lines of what Van Roth said:
"Send a letter to Terra and Guilliman first, saying..."
"We need at least three years to prepare."
Feeling the increasingly urgent call from the Golden Throne on Terra deep within his soul, Sith finally compressed the time to three years.
Although three years wasn't enough to build even a single sword-class frigate, everyone had to helplessly accept it; three years was still better than Guilliman's six months.
Van Roth immediately turned to prepare the letter, but just as he stepped out the door, he came back.
Everyone was puzzled, and Van Roth held two reports, delivering them to Sith with a strange expression:
"Letters from Terra and the Regent."
The crowd was stunned, and Sith also took them with some astonishment, then opened them and scanned them quickly. Sith's brows, which were already tightly knitted from the terrible situation, seemed to be pushed to the limit of anger; his face first turned an uncharacteristically flushed red, and then, with extreme emotional agitation, it instantly smoothed out.
Then, in front of the puzzled Bayer and others, Sith held up the two letters, his mouth curling with a smile born of anger:
"The content is the same."
"Terra and Guilliman are asking where we are..."
Everyone: "!!!"
Everyone: "Where are we?!"
Not to mention Van Roth and the others, even Bayer raised an eyebrow and looked over.
Is this even something a human would ask?!
So the whole time, even those six months were just to comfort us?!
The originally gloomy and silent office instantly erupted with a sense of annoyance; everyone was looking at the two letters in front of them, their gazes seemingly ready to spew fire.
Don't talk about five or ten years; they aren't even giving six months.
Everyone knew, of course, that it wasn't about not giving, but that they couldn't give it. But in this situation, did they really have to do as Bruno said, and take twenty billion empty-handed refugees to 'choke' the Tyranids to death?!
The crowd was dead silent, and could only shift their gaze to Sith, wanting to see how their Lord would decide.
Sith also silently looked at the two urgent letters in front of him, and after burying his eyes in silence for a long time, he looked up again.
Then, under everyone's expectant gaze, Sith looked at Bayer.
A calm voice, amidst the gradually widening eyes of the crowd, came from Sith's mouth:
"I still have five hundred Blackwatch veterans."
"Get ready; I am going to..."
"Upgrade them all to 'Primaris Astartes'!"
The crowd looked at Sith in stunned silence, their minds filled with great confusion.
What does that mean? You mean the Blackwatch?
Three hundred times Apocalypse veterans?
Chosen by both gods?
The veterans who hacked at daemons in the Warp for two months and followed Sith to survive until now?
Not being Mortals anymore?!!
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