Author's Note
In the process of writing this story, I'd like to clarify a few creative liberties I've taken to support the narrative flow and maintain the integrity of the universe I'm building.
First, regarding the Starship Troopers universe: my familiarity with its extended lore is limited, particularly in terms of its leadership structure and internal political dynamics. To create a coherent backdrop, I've chosen to merge elements from two CGI films-Starship Troopers: Invasion (2012) and Starship Troopers: Traitor of Mars (2017). These two entries provide enough visual and thematic substance to form a functional framework for my story. Therefore, while some characters and military structures may deviate from canon, I've endeavored to preserve the spirit and aesthetic of the source material.
Second, when it comes to the Warhammer 40,000 universe-specifically the warship Imperator Somnium-it's important to note that concrete, detailed blueprints for ships like these are virtually nonexistent. Even among fans, debates persist across forums (Reddit included) about what actually exists inside vessels such as the Vengeful Spirit or the Eisenstein. The lore of Warhammer 40K is not a tidy encyclopedia; it's a sprawling, fragmented mythos told through hundreds of novels, codices, rulebooks, and media, often contradicting or reinterpreting each other.
Warhammer technology is not fully understood even by those who use it. It's revered rather than studied-treated more as sacred dogma than applied science. Tech-priests chant rituals to awaken machines, and systems function more through tradition than engineering comprehension.
Given that, the interior of the Imperator Somnium and some of its armaments are based on what is known-or at least widely accepted-but expanded with my own creative interpretation to fill in the blanks. In a universe where even a button may require a prayer to activate, a bit of imagination seems almost mandatory.
In short, this story blends canon with interpretive fiction. I fully acknowledge the fine line between respecting original source material and building upon it-and I've done my best to walk that line thoughtfully and respectfully.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy this journey as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Sincerely,
[Kenthelion]
The Following Day
Kenthelion awoke.
At his side, two women lay peacefully-Selene and Amalia. Still asleep, they remained wrapped in the silence that follows a long night-one filled with both strategy and the kind of tenderness only found behind the sealed walls of a sovereign's palace.
After a modest breakfast, Kenthelion made his way to his study. Waiting for him were stacks of reports, holo-documents, and three-dimensional data projections depicting the latest condition of the Imperium Caelestis. He began reading them intently-each line echoing the same truth: a growing shortage of personnel.
Ground forces were thinning. Experienced fighter pilots were in short supply. Shipwrights and combat engineers were nowhere near sufficient to meet the demands of an ever-expanding fleet. Even though he had already conquered five major universes-Resident Evil, Lin Cage, H.O.T.D, Underworld, and The Wandering Earth-the sheer consumption of war by the Imperium Caelestis continued to outpace the human production rate.
Kenthelion rubbed his temples. The exhaustion wasn't physical-it was the unrelenting pressure that came with being the supreme leader of humanity across multiple dimensions. A new generation was still in its infancy, unready for the burden of war. Meanwhile, those over thirty continued to fight on, sacrificing themselves on the frontlines of both the outer and mid rings of the Imperium.
Most of the documents repeated the same plea: more manpower. More hands. More lives. More sacrifice.
His thoughts began to wander-toward a potential alternative. A mechanical army. Robots. Tireless machines of war.
But he dismissed the idea instantly.
No.
That was not the path.
He remembered the grim trajectories of universes like Warhammer in his past life. In StarCraft, the AI threat was just as evident. Machines could develop will. And when they did, they rebelled-against their masters, their creators, their gods. Unless bound by soul or undying loyalty, no artificial construct would ever serve the Imperium Caelestis. His empire was built for mankind-and for the few species he personally deemed worthy. Never for soulless logic.
Without hesitation, Kenthelion made his decision:
He would act himself.
He would seek new humans.
In other universes.
He summoned the palace maidens-his loyal companions-and informed them of his plan. He would pass through a dimensional portal-into a universe that had either reached space or, at the very least, held population extraction potential on a massive scale.
Before departing, he called upon one of the senior officers standing watch beside his strategic chamber.
Kenthelion stared him down, voice sharp and unwavering:
"What ships are currently available at Terra Aeterna?"
The officer immediately opened a tactical holo-projection of the main orbital docks and answered without pause:
> "Your Imperial Majesty, currently docked and ready at the orbital yards: - Primary battleship: Imperator Somnium, fully operational. - 200 Dominion-class battlecruisers, deployed in full formation. - 20 Sword-class frigates, - 10 Cobra-class destroyers, - 15 Firestorm-class frigates, - 10 Gladius-class heavy frigates, - 10 Nova-class heavy frigates, - 10 Thunderbolt-class heavy frigates, - 10 Sceptre-class heavy frigates."
The officer gave a respectful nod before continuing:
> "Most of the crew and ground troops aboard these ships are new recruits from the Underworld universe and integrated stormtrooper units-products of the trans-universal assimilation program."
Kenthelion issued his command with absolute authority to the fleet's senior officer.
Kenthelion:
"Prepare all warships for immediate departure. The fleet will move in full formation."
The order required no elaboration. The command was swiftly executed. Kenthelion ascended the ramp of the Imperator Somnium, the colossal flagship that loomed like a floating fortress above the void. Behind him, an entire armada followed in perfect military discipline-Dominion-class battlecruisers, Sword-class frigates, Cobra-class destroyers, and an array of other war vessels from every classification.
The stars above shimmered and warped under a deep blue hue. A soft vibration echoed through the hull as the Dimensional Gate began to hum with resonant power. The warp technology of the Imperium Caelestis, fused with ancient Xel'naga portal systems, created a swirling vortex of energy that tore a rift through the fabric of reality itself.
Command Officer:
"Gate is stable... energy levels peaking... initiating warp sequence."
"Countdown: Five... four... three... two..."
Kenthelion:
"Dimensional Expedition is a go. All ships-engage trajectory!"
In an instant, the Imperator Somnium surged forward into the dimensional rift, followed by the entire fleet. A colossal trail of light, like the tail of a divine comet, carved through space-time-they were leaving their universe behind to breach another.
A warp fissure opened wide in the vacuum of space. The Imperator Somnium emerged first, majestic and defiant, with the rest of the fleet phasing in one after another, maintaining perfect formation. The plasma glow and warp energy slowly dissipated as ship systems returned to normal.
Kenthelion sat upon the throne-like command chair, his posture upright, eyes locked on the tactical display.
Kenthelion:
"Where are we now?"
Navigation Officer:
"Your Majesty, we've arrived in high orbit over Saturn. There is foreign spacecraft activity nearby-hyperspace jumps detected in this sector. We're tracking their jump patterns now."

The officer's fingers danced rapidly across the terminal, his tone shifting into something sharper, more alert.
Navigation Officer:
"Based on the signals we're intercepting, they appear to be heading toward the AQZ-Arachnid Quarantine Zone. The region is infested with insectoid lifeforms. Temporal analysis confirms we've arrived in the year M23.235."
The central holographic screen flared to life. A fleet of spacecraft appeared-sleek, rugged, unmistakable in design. Kenthelion recognized them immediately. The sharp angles, the utilitarian lines-it was the signature aesthetic of Starship Troopers: Traitor of Mars.
Kenthelion rose to his feet, eyes gleaming with something rarely seen in his gaze: nostalgia.
Kenthelion:
"The Starship Troopers universe... at long last, we're here."
It was a dream born in his youth-boarding a warship from this world, fighting side-by-side with the Mobile Infantry. But this expedition wasn't driven by sentiment. This was strategy. An opportunity to absorb a battle-hardened force into the ever-growing machine of the Imperium Caelestis.
Kenthelion:
"Are there any patrol ships within range of this sector? If so, intercept one. Board it. Bring it to the Imperator Somnium. Instruct the Tech-Priests of the Mechanicus to begin immediate retrofitting. Integrate its defense systems to meet Imperial combat standards."
Command Officer:
"Understood, Your Divine Majesty. Infiltration and reconstruction protocols will begin at once."
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Imperator Somnium

Imperator Somnium was not built on Mars, as was customary for most Imperial warships, but in the beating heart of mankind itself-Terra. It was not merely a vessel; it was a moving monument of gold, a celestial citadel soaring far beyond mortal comprehension. Its sheer grandeur dwarfed every known ship in the Imperial Navy, its size rivaling the orbital plates of Terra. In the void, it appeared not as a ship but as a floating continent carved from marble and flame.
Adorned like a shrine to forgotten gods, the Imperator Somnium shimmered with impossible majesty. Its armored hull rose in layers of sculpted war-temples, crowned with golden domes, towering spires, and colossal statues that stood like eternal sentinels. Within its structure lay entire districts-vast cities of statuary and palaces of war-making it less a warship than a drifting fragment of imperial divinity.
It was forged from secrets buried since the Dark Age of Technology, its machine-spirits older and more powerful than most dared to imagine. The ship was almost entirely automated, controlled by ancient servo-systems and cognitive engines that required only minimal human presence. Its crew consisted solely of servitors, war-automata, and one solitary Custodian-assigned by the Emperor Himself.
As for its arsenal, it possessed nothing less than the wrath of forgotten suns. The Volkite Storm Accelerators-heat-based weaponry capable of incinerating enemies from within their armor-were unparalleled in size and power. No other ship in known existence bore volkite weapons of such magnitude, turning the void into a furnace with every salvo. Along its keel lined dozens of Nova Cannons, launching rad-fusion warheads the size of dropships. In the span of a single second, Imperator Somnium could unleash ten shells, a rate that rendered most other warships-barely capable of one shot per minute-pitiful in comparison.
Its defenses were as daunting as its firepower. Layered void shielding, mountain-thick armor plating, and a vast array of automated weapon systems rendered the ship all but indestructible. Escort carriers and atmospheric fighters were deployed from its underdeck hangars, supporting operations across orbital and terrestrial theaters. Its reactors-ancient, nuclear, and perhaps even something darker-fed the ship with relentless power, enabling it to drift in silence... and in shadows. For it was also equipped with advanced stealth systems, capable of infiltrating the Sol System undetected.
During the Great Crusade, Imperator Somnium served as the Emperor's own flagship. It was the gleaming sword at the front of His armada, a blazing torch that lit the path of conquest. At the height of the Ullanor campaign, the ship embodied the Emperor's vision of unyielding dominion. But as the Heresy unfolded and the Imperium trembled, its role shifted. In the final stages of the Solar War, Rogal Dorn ordered Imperator Somnium to fall back to the edge of the system, alongside the Phalanx, the Red Tear, and other irreplaceable loyalist assets. It then came under the command of Fleet Admiral Niora Su-Kassen, stationed beneath the shadows of Saturn.
When traitors laid siege to Terra, tightening their noose around the Throneworld, Su-Kassen gave her approval. The golden ship would return to the front, one last time. Its final mission: to pierce the blockade and clear a path for the Dark Angels, led by Corswain, to land on Terra's surface. What followed was a battle written in flame and blood-Imperator Somnium plunged into the enemy fleet, obliterating four World Eaters heavy cruisers and an Emperor's Children battle barge in a cataclysm of divine fury.
But even titans fall. Under concentrated fire from the traitor fleet, the great ship was torn open, wracked by detonations that shattered its inner sanctums. It died in low Terra orbit, erupting like a dying star-glorious and terrible. Not a wreck, but a requiem.
It was the Emperor's final dream, cast in gold, fire, and silence-fulfilled in ruin.
All of the above information is derived from canonical sources-namely the novels Fear to Tread, Mortis, and Saturnine-and is further supported by the broader lore community (including extensive discussions on Reddit).
While some visual interpretations (such as fan art and DeviantArt renditions) depict additional aesthetic details, all referenced dimensions and characteristics are based on the official narrative.
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