Imperium: Sundering (IC)

[Imperialisium]

“The fall of Empire, gentlemen, is a massive thing, however, and not easily fought. It is dictated by a rising bureaucracy, a receding initiative, a freezing of caste, a damming of curiosity—a hundred other factors. It has been going on, as I have said, for centuries, and it is too majestic and massive a movement to stop.” -Ancient Terran Scholar circa 2nd Millennium.

The Galactic Imperium, or quite simply put: The Imperium. Its the greatest civilization to grace the Milky Way Galaxy. Stretching across the breadth and width of the Galaxy. From the depths of the core worlds to the outermost fringes of the Halo Stars. From the heart of dangerous nebulae where new, fresh, hot stars are born over the course of millions of years. Too the cold, ancient, fading stars of the Galaxy's trailing edges. Over fifteen million inhabited planets, moons, planetoids, asteroid colonies, stations, orbitals, and deep space facilities are under the Imperial banner. Directly or otherwise. It is the only dominion of mankind and the single hyperpower of the known cosmos. Its lifespan reaching across twenty-thousand years of history. From its rise as the small Nova Terran Imperium, to the Galaxy conquering, and finally enforcer of the Pax Imperialis. A peace only ever interrupted by the bickering of the noble houses, their petty squabbles, always kept in check for excess. For the Imperium's power was indomitable. Only once in its entire history has it ever been in danger of failing. The War against the OSB, beings from another Galaxy, so alien compared to anything in the Milky Way Galaxy. Erupting from the Magellanic Clouds which such ferocity that the Galaxy was wrapped in the flames of war for centuries. Yet, the Imperium eventually triumphed, and upon that victory entered its absolute zenith of power and prosperity.

That was ending. The Imperium was slowly failing, dying, like a geriatric experiencing the slow failure of its organs. The Emperor has withdrawn from practically all public and political life. Leaving the running of the Imperium up to the bureaucrats and Senate. The powers of the Semi-Autonomous States and Protectorates grows by the day. While the loyalty of regional Governors over Imperial Sectors can be increasingly called into question. Religious wars, terrorism, economic stagnation, political ignorance, and simple ennui like a virulent plague has grasped the Galaxy from end to end. Poisoning the Imperium from within. The Emperor's son, heir, Valerian. Has gone missing decades past. If ever there was hope of a strong Emperor it was gone. For no one knows where he had gone. The Emperor's eldest daughters, Valeria and Verina, are at odds. Valeria desperately to fill the vacuum left by the vanishing of Valerian. While politically adept she lacks the sheer charisma and military genius of her older brother. Verina has become a head of the Church of Terraism and wields increasingly significant power to the Celestial Throne. The divisions, the fracturing Imperium, have reached the Imperial Family itself.

Even on Nova Terra, the Throneworld, which for thousands of years has bathed in the glory of Empire has a rotten core. Infrastructure in its oldest, deepest, levels of the city planet are failing or abandoned. Crime is increasingly rampant in its underworld of cityscape where the Sun cannot be seen. If one was to simply live in the regions open to sky or in the glittering towers and megastructures one would not give a second thought to all of this. But if one was to step out, descend thousands of feet, into the under cities of the planet. One could easily see the festering sores.

Across the Imperium internecine conflict has become more rampant. The Imperium fights a hundred wars across the Galaxy. Some are small, unknown, the conflicts of a few teams. Others are world rapturing conflicts fielding millions of soldiers, hundreds of starships, and the devastation of continents. The Imperial war machine is still a dominant force to be reckoned with. The Imperial Navy is still the only 'true' Navy in terms of numbers and ship strength. But that is increasingly called into question by the rising regional powers of the various SAS's and governors. The Imperial Army and Guard having to raise more and more troops to garrison troublesome worlds. Putting a strain on the Imperial administration and logistics apparatus.

These are the times that try men's souls. When the future is uncertain, dark, and foreboding. For if the Imperium should fall then a new interstellar dark age will descend across the Galaxy as humanity tears at its own throat. If it survives then perhaps it will become something completely unrecognizable. No one can tell for sure. The average Imperial citizen themselves are probably blissfully ignorant to the threats pervading the Imperium itself. Too small and insignificant to see the danger looming over head. But those of us able to look down from the top. The pillars holding us there are increasingly unsettled.

Nova Terra
"Don't you see? It's galaxy-wide. It's a worship of the past. It's a deterioration—a stagnation!”

The voice of Valeria, Crown Princess, erupted in the vast halls of the Imperial Palace. Several dozen meters away a Praetorian stood silently in his golden armor. Far closer, mere feet away, a younger blonde haired woman with eyes like polished glass stared back at the red-haired Valerian. "I am not arguing with you again sister. Your ignorance to the true faith is one that only I increasingly tolerate."

"What of Father?" shot back Valeria.

"Father hasn't left these halls in a long time Valeria. You cannot lose him as a shield much longer." spat Verina as she turned on her heel and stalked off. They had once been loving sisters loyal to one another to a fault. But the glue that held the Imperial family together was failing. Chipping and separating like the bindings of a frayed book. The Imperial family was dividing along its own lines. Normally such rivalries would subside as the succession was clearly linear and up to the reigning monarch. But with a reclusive patriarch and each child increasingly amassing vast amounts of power the danger of a succession war was becoming painfully clear. Like in the times of old where more than one Imperial War of Succession had raged between siblings to the Celestial Throne. Such an event would shatter any centralized power within the Imperium itself. But as Valeria watched her sister walk away from yet another argument she knew the clock was ticking before the Imperial Government imploded as each of Baldor's children took a slice of the pie.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Citadel
Detention World XVII
‘Kerberos’
Central HQ of Polintel

From the high, fortified tower of the Kerberos Citadel one could overlook a large part of the detention world. Especially at night the strong floodlights illuminated the land all the way to the horizon, revealing to an onlooker kilometres upon kilometres of electrified fencing and thousands of armed watch towers to boot. Patrol gunships followed predetermined routes, using infrared scanners and bio scanners to look for possible escapees. It was more a show of force than anything else; escape from Kerberos was impossible. The whole planet was a prison, every square inch covered in either concrete or some body of water. Canals supplied central installations with fresh drinking water, and oceans provided transport for seagoing vessels. Nutrient intake was kept as low as possible, allowing the prisoners to do hard labour for a day without fainting. Still, it would not last them any more, as nutrient pills were strictly rationed. Escape at night was impossible, since temperatures could sink to -40 degrees Celsius. Careful ozone management meant that UV light during the day could cook your skin off in two hours flat. The world was a concrete desert, in which only the detention barracks gave enough shelter.

“A marvel, is it not?” said an old, croaking voice. It sounded relaxed and feeble, but there was an academic strength to it, too. From his wheelchair, Arthur Urbanus gazed across the world, watching it slip by as his transportation craft came in to dock at the Citadel. Arthur had spent the whole trip from Complex 105 staring out the window, as he always did while traveling. He had an inherent interest in his greatest achievement, it seemed. One of his lieutenants came up to him, now too gazing across the barren planet.

“A marvel indeed. The anchorage to which our Empire clings” the lieutenant spoke, swiping some of the sweat from her forehead. In her arm she had a tablet, on which she pushed a few buttons every so often.

“The land management bureau would like to hear what you thought of the Complex” she said, looking at the old man in anticipation. Arthur took a few breaths, something he seemed to have a lot of trouble with. He was thinking, that much was clear. He zoned off when he did, staring into the dark abyss in front of him. Then, he turned around, letting his wheelchair glide through the halls of the spaceship and gesturing the lieutenant to follow him.

“Complex 105 is one of our oldest centres” Arthur began. He liked to speak in long-winded sentences, and never said up front what he wanted. He always liked to keep himself vague, letting his orders open to interpretation. He knew how his subordinates would react, after all.

“It fails to meet our current standards. It would be the perfect place for a new model reprogramming centre, should the space become free.”

The lieutenant nodded, making a few scribbles in a document she’d opened.

“As for the current occupants… Should the bureau choose to replace Complex 105 with a re-education facility, then the occupants should be divided as much as possible over the other centres, careful not to upset their political balances.”

The political balance was a fancy way to say ‘divide and conquer’. The various facilities were filled with as many different views as possible. Some dissidents hated the other groups more than they hated the Empire. This made them easier to control.

“Should no vacancy be left, well… The Gorgon dogs have not eaten in a while.”

The lieutenant nodded again, and pushed a few buttons to send her report to the Bureau. There were tons of bureaus in the organisation of Polintel. There were bureaus for food management, for water management, for prisoner re-education, for prisoner distribution, for internal security, for external security… Each section was divided into subsections, making every piece just a small part in the puzzle. It made life easier when no one bureaucrat could have moral scruples. In the end, all they did was mechanical work, pushing buttons and sending through decisions, never even noticing that they were dealing with humans. In a place such as Kerberos, that was required to remain sane.

“Lieutenant… Be so kind as to inform the Marshall that I will be away for some time. I have a feeling my services will be needed in the capital. Tell him to keep up a regular policy. He can contact me if he doesn’t feel comfortable to bear responsibility for a decision”

The lieutenant nodded for a last time, and went off to the bowels of the Citadel. Arthur liked to frame power not as such, but as responsibility. He would have the heads of those who failed, and his subordinates knew that. Eventually, most decisions would come back to him, as those with the capacity on the lower levels dared not trust their own judgement. It was a way to make the bureaucracy nominally independent while keeping it firmly under control. When away from his fortress planet, Arthur had to make sure those under him did not conspire against him. This he did by employing the Marshall, one of the more incompetent and loathed characters on the planet, especially by the bureaucracy. Hatred for him kept their loyalty in check, at least long enough for him to return in person. As his spaceship lifted off into orbit, Arthur saw the lights of his planet sink down and vanish in the smoggy clouds produced by heavy industry. Industry of slave labour, all political dissidents fallen out of favour of the Empire.

Having arrived in the capital, Arthur wasted no time. He was not one to get comfortable after a long trip, he just wanted to get to work as soon as possible. He needed to get a feeling of the situation before committing to anything. The best place to do that was the imperial palace. Soon, his ship docked at the imperial docking station, where he got into contact with the attendant.

“I request an audience with His Majesty, the Emperor” he said in his croaked voice, soft and whispering as it was. “I hope to speak him about the state of imperial politics”

[Laurvier]

Ragenmark

The entire Valkyries fleet was here. Branth's flagship, Fenrir, had come first. It was best not to alarm the station security by having a war fleet jump in all of a sudden. Branth gave them proper warning that the Valkyries would arrive. They had just finished a contract to hunt pirates on the outer rim. Now it was time to recover and give the men shore leave. Messages would be sent out that new recruits were being hired for the Valkyries throughout all the Thangarian worlds. Many would flock to Branth's banner given the reputation he had managed to build up. Only a fraction would become Valkyries.

He sat around with his captains and huskarls in the meeting room of his ship. As was tradition they all wore furs despite the lack of need. The ships temperature controls kept it warm enough. "We need a new contract." Branth stated. "I go to Terra Nova to find an employer. The rest of you will see to repairs. I want us battle ready by the time I secure work. The proper funds will be dispersed to see to this."

The captains nodded their agreement to their leader. One who had proven himself time and again as someone worth following. Under Branth's leadership he had won them both glory and riches in abundance. Mercenary work was lucrative but it did have its expenses in materials, ordinance and life. But as long as they succeeded there would be Imperial Credits in their pockets and brave Thangarians who wanted to make a name for themselves. As well as win their fortune. "Keep the men disciplined. Don't let them get into trouble once they're planetside." Branth added.

Once the final arrangements were made the captains departed. The Fenrir undocked to set a course for Terra Nova.

Terra Nova

It took time but Branth Tarkenby was a longtime mercenary for the Empire. The Fenrir was given permission to orbit around the planet as long as it was not in battle condition. That meant putting the shield and weapons offline. Branth and a few huskarls would take a shuttle down to the planet to enjoy its amenities. Contracts for mercenary work were floating around the net to be bid on but these were for smaller fish. His reputation and the reputation of the Valkyries allowed him to negotiate them on a more personal level. Indeed, the Valkyries were in high demand and commanded a high price for their services. Branth sent out a message to past and potential clients of influence. These were leaders of great houses, Imperial Navy Admirals and business magnates. Simply, Branth let them know he was in Terra Nova and was entertaining offers for mercenary work.

The shuttle from the Fenrir docked at a planetside spaceport. Branth had plenty enough money to pay the fee for the privilege. Immediately he and his huskarls would be finding an entertainment establishment to pass the time. It was not often they were here and anything the galaxy had to offer was here. He figured he might as well enjoy it.

[Brusia]

High-General Johnathan Aetius
In Orbit of Kyotomo

"We shall not enter into any of the abstruse definitions of war used by publicists. We shall keep to the element of the thing itself, to a duel. War is nothing but a duel on an extensive scale." -Carl von Clausewitz

High-General Johnathan Aetius stood near the view screen of the Bridge of one of the transport vessels currently tasked with ferrying him and his men to the latest planet to declare itself independent of the Imperium, looking out on the world below while sipping a cup of coffee. He spent the past few days pouring over intel reports on the planet, its defenses, and its new self-proclaimed Shogun; one Takauji Ishimida. Unlike many of the overly-ambitious political "leaders" with IQs somewhere south of a Terran turnip who had been declaring their worlds independent of late, Takauji was by all accounts an honorable and intelligent man. In addition to being a respected leader, he was a well-trained and talented warrior who, like Aetius, had fought in the Wars of Religion. Takauji fought on behalf of a religion called Bushidism, which like Aetius' religion, taught salvation through honor and glory in battle. Unlike Aetius' religion however, Bushidism prohibited retreat or surrender, which always made battles with Bushidists brutal and bloody affairs. Naturally, that fact alone was enough to make those battles some of Aetius' favorites; it was rare to find honorable opponents in this day and age, and there was always glory to be had in fighting foes with such conviction.

As he was reminiscing on those past glories, his adjutant suddenly approached with a message: "Sorry to bother you sir, but we just received word from the Joint Chiefs: it seems they want you to return to Nova Terra for a briefing in 24 hours."

Aetius sighed and simply replied: "Well, shit." The Joint Chiefs had been ordering him to attend briefings more and more frequently lately, ostensibly due to worry over increasing unrest in an Imperial oversector, but in reality it was clear to everyone the intention of the meetings was to keep Aetius off the battlefield and away from his Army as much as possible. That this was impairing the Imperium's ability to reconquer rebelling worlds meant little to most of Aetius' "colleagues" who were far more concerned with their own political ambitions than with the well-being of the Empire.

It didn't help that his former XO had been reassigned to another Sector Army by the Joint Chiefs, and replaced by a totally incompetent moron by the name of Johannes Crassus, whose only qualification was that his daddy was a well-connected Senator. After he led an entire Division into an ambush so obvious that a first year cadet should've been able to spot it, his XO's connections didn't stop Aetius from submitting numerous requests that the man be either reassigned or court-martialed, but those requests inevitably fell on deaf ears. Knowing that leaving Crassus in charge of his men during an invasion of a planet that would put up fierce resistance was a recipe for disaster, Aetius knew he needed an alternative solution.

While taking another sip of his coffee and looking back out towards the planet and the stars flickering at the edge of the viewscreen, Aetius worked to recall the countless briefings, reports, and texts on the Bushidists he had committed to memory when fighting them during the Wars of Religion for something that could help him in his current situation. When he finally remembered a useful tidbit of intel that might prove to be just what he needed, he turned to his adjutant and stated: "Looks like we'll need to resolve this quickly than. Contact the Shogun and inform him I request to meet with him in person to parley."

"You...you wish to negotiate sir?" the adjutant asked, taken aback by the order.

"Something like that" the General replied with a grin "Now than, get me that meeting and report to the shuttlebay in 30 minutes; we have a war to win."

32 minutes later...

As the High-General's shuttle touched down on Kyotomo's surface the loading ramp dropped open, and Aetius walked out onto the calm and quiet garden the Shogun had chosen as their meeting place. He was soon greeted by a cool breeze and the sight of cherry blossom trees in full bloom surrounding a small pagoda where the Shogun currently awaited the High-General's arrival. Aetius took a deep breath of the clean, crisp air before making his way through the idyllic surroundings to the meeting place. Following close behind him were his three personal bodyguards and his adjutant, who was far too worried to be in any way moved by the beauty of his surroundings.

"Are you sure about this General?" he quietly asked after approaching Aetius' side "How do we know they aren't planning to ambush you in there?"

"Because the Bushidist code states anyone seeking to discuss diplomatic resolutions is to be treated as a guest, and attacking a guest without provocation would be considered a grave dishonor. If there's one thing that every report and psych eval I've read on this Takauji Ishimida indicates, it's that he would never violate his code."

"And you're willing to risk putting your life in the hands of a sworn enemy just on the hope that they'll follow some code?"

Aetius chuckled for a moment, then replied "Considering that most of my enemies these days publicly declare themselves to be my friends, I'd say the fact that he at least has the common decency to admit that he's my enemy makes me more inclined to trust him."

The adjutant just shook his head as they approached the pagoda. When they neared the stairs, Aetius ordered his adjutant and guards to wait outside, then proceeded to a small table where the Shogun was waiting for him.

"High-General Aetius, I presume?" the Shogun said while standing up from the table. He was dressed in formal attire, though quite unlike that which is found on most worlds of the Imperium. To Aetius, it appeared to be a long, black robe of some sort with very little in the way of adornments, save for a rare plasma blade tucked into a sash on his hip. The General meanwhile was wearing his finest dress uniform, his chest covered with the ribbons and medals he'd accumulated over the years, with the Medal of Valor hanging around his neck, and his own plasma blade and trusty modified sidearm on either side of his belt. When the Shogun bowed to the General, Aetius politely bowed his head in return, and the two took a seat at the small table.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Shogun Ishimida."

"I must say General, from what I've read about you, I was quite surprised to hear that you of all people sought to parley."

"Admittedly that wasn't my first choice of action, but my time here was unfortunately limited due to 'political constraints'" those last two words Aetius uttered with a particular loathing.

"Truly, there is no greater impediment to a good soldier than a bad politician, is there?"

"Well, suffice it to say that if I had my choice between charging directly into artillery fire or sitting through another 'briefing' with the Joint Chiefs, I'd take the artillery fire any day of the week."

The two laughed for abit before the Shogun suddenly gave Aetius a very serious look and asked: "You did not come here with entirely peaceful intentions though, did you? Diplomacy is not your way, and I can see that the fire in your eyes has not yet been entirely extinguished by your political masters."

Aetius nodded and replied "I came here hoping to settle things in the old ways, with a magnikai. Just you, me, and our blades; no power armor, no guns, no armies, and no politicians."

The Shogun was slightly surprised by the suggestion "Well, you have certainly done your homework General, though there hasn't been a magnikai on my world in centuries. Why should I participate in one now?"

"Because it's the only hope your people have to survive. We both know you would've never agreed to any terms without putting up a fight, but with the full wrath of the Imperium now bearing down upon this world, such a fight would be utterly devastating. Now, I have no doubt you and your soldiers would put up a valiant last stand, and I can understand the appeal of going out like that, but it hardly seems fair to the countless civilians who would be stuck in the middle of the fighting, and I for one have no desire to see beautiful areas such as this one reduced to ash and rubble." Aetius then leaned in a little closer and continued "Besides, as you said we'd be fighting the first magnikai in centuries, each of us representing the fates of our entire people. Win or lose, this battle would go down in history, and I can think of no more honorable or glorious way to die than that."

The Shogun pondered what the General said for a few moments, then asked: "What would be the terms?"

"You inform your people that, if I win, this world is to cease its attempt at independence, and become loyal to the Imperium once again. Meanwhile, I'll inform my people that, if you win, they are to withdraw immediately. At the very least, that'll give you more time to prepare your defenses, and I can guarantee that whoever the Imperium sends in place of my men won't be nearly as experienced or well trained."

Ishimida again pondered for a few moments and looked out over their beautiful surroundings before replying: "Very well, I accept your terms."

Aetius nodded, and the two got up from the table to inform their people of their decision. Aetius' adjutant was clearly not thrilled, but at this point simply sighed and stated: "There's no way I'm going to be able to talk you out of this, is there sir?"

"No, no there isn't."

"Well then General, I'll just say good luck." The adjutant saluted, and after returning his salute, Aetius took off his formal jacket, removed his medal from his neck, and took his pistol out of his holster, then handed them all to his adjutant and guards before heading out to a grassy area near some of the cherry blossom trees where the Shogun was already waiting for him.

When he was a few feet away, the two drew their plasma blades, and the Shogun bowed while Aetius raised the hilt of his plasma blade a few inches in front of his face in a more traditional Imperial salute. The two then ignited their blades and entered into a combat stance. Both men were expert swordsmen, and as they slowly circled each other, both ran through the coming fight in their heads; each attempting to estimate their opponent's likely attacks and counters, winning and losing dozens of battles in the time it took for the cherry blossoms near them to fall from their trees and to the ground. Both calculated that the battle would be over quickly, though neither was yet certain who would emerge the victor. Deciding it was time to find out, the Shogun raised his blade above his head and charged at the General, ferociously slashing at him with the blade, but narrowly missing as Aetius dodged and countered with a thrust of his blade towards the Shogun's chest. The Shogun quickly parried the attack, and the two again began to circle each other, each now more aware of the other's capabilities. Using this knowledge, Aetius continued the duel with a feint attack which the Shogun attempted to counter, only for the General to use his superior speed to dodge and attack while the Shogun was mid-strike. The Shogun was unable to dodge the attack in time, and Aetius' plasma blade slashed through part of his chest and the hilt of his plasma blade, destroying the weapon.

As the Shogun dropped to the ground Aetius kneeled down next to him and stated: "That was well fought Ishimida, it was an honor to face one as skilled as you in single combat."

The Shogun placed his hand on Aetius' shoulder and quietly replied: "It is a sad state of affairs when honorable men must kill each other in service to dishonorable masters." With the last of his strength, Ishimida was able to pull himself up and onto his knees, where after leaning forward he informed the General: "Now you must finish this."

Aetius frowned at having to end the life of one of the few honorable leaders he had met, but he knew what the Bushidist code required, and he would not dishonor his opponent. Moving to the Shogun's side, he ignited his blade and quietly stated: "May you find peace in the fields of Elysium" before raising the weapon above his head and driving it down through the Shogun's neck with all his might to end him with as little pain as possible. As the Shogun's head fell away from his body, his guards nearby drew their weapons, causing Aetius' guards to raise their weapons in their direction, but rather than attack the General, the Shogun's guards instead took their own lives. Aetius returned to his guards and adjutant to collect his things, and the young officer asked: "Why the hell did those guards do that?"

Aetius sighed while putting his jacket back on and replied: "Because they could not bear the dishonor of allowing the man they were charged with protecting to be killed by an enemy." The adjutant again just shook his head, and after he collected all his things, Aetius returned to the pagoda, where the only surviving man who had accompanied the Shogun was waiting for him. "The Shogun informed you of our terms?" Aetius asked the man.

"He did General. As his second-in-command, I will honor his agreement and see to it that Kyotomo becomes loyal to the Imperium once again."

Aetius nodded, and motioned for his adjutant to join them. "My adjutant will write up the official terms which we'll need you to sign." The man who was now responsible for leading Kyotomo simply nodded in response as the adjutant began writing. The terms were fairly standard for a world which had attempted to declare independence from the Imperium: all citizens would be required to publicly swear an oath of allegiance to the Emperor, Terraism was to become the official religion of the planet and all Bushidist shrines were to be converted to Terraist temples to reflect that, all planetary military forces were to lay down their arms, and an Imperium force was to occupy the planet until such time as the Senate deemed it to no longer be at risk of revolt. The only deviation from the standard agreement was a small addendum which Aetius added that allowed the former Shogun to be buried with full honors; he felt the man deserved at least that much. Once everything was officially written up, Aetius and the Shogun's second-in-command signed the accord, then the latter returned to the planet's capital while Aetius and his men returned to their ship.

After a planetwide address was made to inform Kyotomo's citizens of the accord, a large number of Aetius' men descended down to the planet to temporarily occupy its cities as-per the agreement in the accord until an Imperium force specifically designed for that task could arrive to replace them. They landed without resistance, and once they were planetside, Aetius left his adjutant in charge of the occupation while he made his way back to Nova Terra for his meeting with the Joint Chiefs. He had won the war with a single blow, but the victory felt hollow to him. As he stared out the window of his personal quarters while en route to the capital of the Imperium to sit amongst a room of dishonorable politicians pretending to be soldiers while they bandied about useless information in a pointless briefing, the Shogun's last words echoed in Aetius' ears, and he pondered the truly sad state of affairs the Imperium now found itself in...

[Yuzhou]

Ulzaar
Steele Palace

Azar Steele, High Governor of Oversector 5, Lord of Khera and Ulzaar, true noble and house patriarch stood leaning against the sandy wall of his familial palace, sea wind blowing through his white hair as the market town below him bustled to an unseen drum. This beige balcony in an equal world of tans and sapphire blues, reds and sanded browns, was the one spot in the desert world of Ulzaar that the senior Steele spent any valuable time. Time thinking.

He had turned 143 years of age not long ago, according to the traditional calendar, and knew that he had many more years before him. Once long ago a single decade was the difference between average lifespan and blessing. Now that difference could be measured in centuries.

Centuries were only a footnote in the history of the town before him. Things on Ulzaar, as some were on Khera, moved to the tune of millennia and so what one saw here varied dramatically from what they saw on other planets. The town before Lord Steele looked like it could have came straight from a scene in the almost forgotten history of the past, before humanity ever left that long gone homeworld in the Sol system. Hardly any artificial lights stood to block out the stars at night. Buildings melded naturally into the mesa sides like adobe monuments to ages past, albeit with modern reinforcement and interior. Metal infrastructure was few and far in-between, most of it rusting and unused.
The only sign of the current period was the occasional freighter zipping past to docking stations elsewhere on the planet, and of course, the modern weaponry attached to the thousands of merchants and traders plying away down below.

Ulzaar was indeed an important trade hub in Oversector 5, notably because rougher characters could move about freely so long as they stayed quite with their business.
Even with that incentive, the bloodflow of commerce to the planet has steadily dropped in the past years. Prices have raised and even bulk goods are more difficult to buy now than ever before.
While Azar was no expert on economics, he knew the increasingly emptying warehouses of his bazaar planet foretold very poor news from the stars beyond the one currently heating the desert dry.

It was exactly this that he mused about silently.

It wasn't long before his concentration was interrupted by a white blur moving beside him. The face that came into view when he turned was a familiar one, Cerra, his youngest daughter and child.

"You've been out here awfully long father. The heat is too much, come inside and cool down." she pleaded, expression revealing she knew his answer long before he had time to formulate it.

"If a little temperature difference is enough to bring concern, then we'd have never conquered the stars. Ulzaar's too hot, Khera gets too cold. I've lived too long to be bothered by perfectly habitable conditions. There are worlds out there that fry you crisp within seconds, you know. That's when the heat is too much!"

"Then if you insist on staying, you may as well tell me what you've been considering out here." Cerra said, twirling her dress playfully.
Ever since she had been little, the girl had learned to read her father more easily. Now almost eighteen, still a child, such a ploy was rather mediocre in her trick book.

Though Azar was all too aware her concern was simply a way to hear the contents of his thoughts, he would indulge her anyway. He almost always had.
"Your brother, Gander has told me of rumors from Terra Nova. Rumors about conflict within the imperial house."

"But that's no secret considering the struggle between the imperial daughters with Prince Valerian's disappearance."

"I know that. But your brother seems to think he's a taste for intrigue. I didn't send him to the academy to play politics! In any case, the fact that even he is aware of it now means it must be getting bad."

"I suppose that compounds on the issues we've noticed here."

"Yes." Azar paused. "You've always been far brighter than some of your brothers."

Cerra simply shrugged at the compliment while facing the sea. "They're just not as observant as I."

The two stood in silence for a long time, Azar listening to the crashing of the waves off the lighthouse coast before giving a long sigh.
A deep sigh, one from a man twice his age.

"I suppose I'll have no choice but to go to Nova Terra. With these developments, the senate is sure to have a large role to play in the times to come. Plus, if Gander is tying himself into the scheming of the capital, he's going to get used by much larger players. Someone will have to set him straight for the family's honor."

"Well, we can't have him hurting our reputation."

"No, we certainly can not."



Nova Terra

The ramp lowered with a audible hiss of hydraulic steam, fixing itself to the ground as Azar Steele stepped out of the vessel. Behind him followed a visibly younger man, brown of hair and beard, and with a demeanor strikingly similar to the elder Steele. Following the two came, naturally, carriers flooded with belongings.

"Welcome, High Governor. We did not expect you in this bay. I presume you had a pleasant trip?" asked an attendant at the end of his dash across the packed lobby.

"Yes, yes." Azar said, brushing him off while picking at his gloves in a fashion typical for him. He took a look around the station, at the sea of people milling about and realized that perhaps landing in an ordinary passenger dock rather than one reserved for nobility was an abrasive option. Still, it'd hit him the hardest that he'd returned to the capital after many years gone. It would also provide him far more information than a higher class dock ever could.

He turned to the man beside him.
"We've arrived alright, son. This is Terra Nova...in all it's gilded glory. Even smells the same as it did a century ago."

"Certainly nothing like open space." the man said. "There's probably a small cruisers worth of people in this one bay."

"Yes." Azar replied. "The higher we go, the less crowded it gets, but it doesn't get any cleaner. People wonder why we nobles keep our heads held high. Well, it's because every inch you go downwards, the worse this city stinks. Go too far, and it'll choke you out."

The man, Lymbris, Azar's eldest and heir simply scowled onward with squinted eyes as he always had. "I've a feeling I'll miss Khera very quickly.

"Aye, that's what home will do to you. Trust me when I say it may get shinier, but no less putrid. Now follow my lead."
With that, Azar pushed his steel blue cloak over his shoulders revealing his uniform, and pressed into the swarm. As he had predicted, the citizens parted as he all but barreled his way through with little regard for slowing with the flow of traffic. When an aristocrat of his rank needed through, he kept his chin up and made his way regardless of any average person who stood in it. Regardless if there were hundreds, thousands, millions of same such people directly in his path. What were they to him? Road blocks that ought know not to be there.

And so they carved a clear path by sheer presence through the crowd, luggage carried straight behind.

The High Governor moved across the bay to a small terminal by the exiting doors. There, he removed his gloves and scanned both hands, watching the blue screen print vital information and confirm his identity. With a mechanical click and a digital confirmation, a small metal stick ejected out of a slot.
"Senate pass." Azar said to Lymbris before turning to the guard standing nearby. Putting the pass between his teeth and pulling back on his gloves he spoke to the guard beside him.
"What's the news military wise, guardsman?"

"Nothing too significant, sir. Various conflicts around the Imperium, as you know. Latest victory was over in the struggle against the Kyomoto rebels."

"Oh?" Azar said. "Do tell."

"Well, apparently High General Aetius has subdued the rebels. The interesting bit is that he's done it quickly. Different rumors are trickling in now on how it happened."

No doubt he'll be here at some point considering the proceedings. Azar thought, removing the pass from his mouth before tossing a physical credit to the guard. "Thank you, guardsman."

Azar and his entourage stepped only a few paces towards the door when a courier come up and passed a note to the high governor.
"Three minutes in and a million things happen." Azar said to his son. "That's the capital."

Dismissing the courier quickly, Azar glanced at the contents on the note before continuing. "Looks like the mercenary Valkyries are in town looking for contracts."
The old Steele considered this for a moment. "Maybe having some extra ships around would be useful in the coming times. I think it's something we might look into, if the following days permit. For now, we have your brother to save."

"What a charming damsel in distress he makes." Lymbris said without a hint of humor running across his face.

"And we brave troopers, son. We brave troopers."

With that, the Steele caravan exited the passenger dock and into the city proper.

[The Brotherhood of the Crimson Isles]

The newly anointed Kwizaldultan, Hayreddin Haderach takes in a deep breath as he puts on his heavy duty offworld suit. He zips up the front and then places a clear mask over his face. He does this not for himself, because he knows that his kind are much hardier than the offworlder Terrans. He does it for them because his kind, Melangoterrans, emit large and dangerous amounts of radiation from their bodies due to the nature of their planet.
He finishes suiting himself up and steps out of his room. He heads down the grand hall, past burning braziers. Once at the end of the hall Hayreddin steps out onto the landing pad where twenty billion Melangoterrans prepare their fleet of converted cargo ships and light frigates that had been captured in the war with the offworlder mining company.
He's nervous. He's sweating under his suit. He pulls his hood low to obscure his face. The Kwizaldultan mustn't allow himself to appear weak. Especially not in such a momentous day. Because today is the day that they leave their free floating planet of Shai-al-Melange to go and make contact with the galaxy at large. Up until now the Offworlder company had kept the existence of Shai-al-Melange a corporate secret, stealing its resources and using it as a secret refueling port halfway between two galactic arms.
Hayreddin boards his flagship, the light frigate Haluud, and makes his way to the bridge. All around him the ships begin lifting up into the green tinted air. Shardof, his ship's Communication Captain puts headphones on his ears and begins fiddling with the various knobs of the comm station. Soon a signal travels out to the Imperial Throne world, announcing the coming of this new delegation. Hayreddin recites his prepared words and pledge of fealty to the empire. The Admiral, Rashudin, sets the coordinates left by the Offworlders for the Throneworld into the nav console and the ships pick up speed and head toward Nova Terra.

[Brusia]

High-General Johnathan Aetius
Nova Terra

After navigating through the ever-crowded spacelanes surrounding Nova Terra, Aetius' flagship entered into orbit around the planet, and the General boarded a shuttle down to the surface. As a flag officer, Aetius was permitted to land directly at the headquarters of the Imperium military, though as his shuttle touched down it was still surrounded by soldiers whose job was to ensure incoming shuttles didn't contain any stowaways, explosive devices, or anything else that might pose a threat to countless officers stationed in the HQ; it was one of the many additional security measures that had been implemented after the Disaster at Hesperidium. After the inspection was complete, an aide escorted General Aetius, still dressed in his formal uniform and donning his many ribbons and medals, to the Joint Chiefs.

The office of the Joint Chiefs was pretty much what you'd expect from a group of people who possessed a higher rank than anyone else in the military and enjoyed reminding others of that fact; the room was ornate and well decorated with marble floors and columns, and the best furnishings credits could buy, while elite Guards stood throughout the room keeping an ever watchful eye out for any dangers that might be posed to those they were charged with protecting. The Joint Chiefs' desks were located at the front of the room and on platforms that raised them several feet above the floor, with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs' desk located front and center and rising an additional few feet above than the others. As he approached the large table at the center of the room, it seemed the Joint Chiefs weren't quite ready for the briefing yet, as Aetius was the only other flag officer in the room.

"You're early..." the Chairman stated in a somewhat surprised tone as Aetius took a seat. Admittedly, Aetius did have something of a knack for being fashionably late to these briefings, but it wasn't like he was ever missing any actually useful information anyway. "No matter" the Chairman continued, when suddenly a number of camera drones were activated and began hovering around the room; streaming a live feed of the proceedings to the Imperium military's public access network, which was aired in countless public areas all across the Imperium. "Why is it that you are here General, and not overseeing your forces at Kyotomo?"

It was pretty obvious at this point that it wasn't to attend a briefing. "I came in response to your summons" the General replied.

"We have no record of any such summons" the Chairman stated "Though even if we did, it hardly excuses you abandoning your men during a planetary invasion; especially when doing so would mean leaving the outcome of the invasion in the hands of a man you've described as 'utterly incompetent...'"

"Oh boy, here we go" the General thought to himself, as it appeared the Joint Chiefs had finally decided to make their move against him. At least it was clear now why they had refused his requests to transfer or court-martial his XO.

"In light of this, I see no choice but to charge you with dereliction of duty. What do you have to say in your defense?"

It was obvious why they had switched the cameras on now too; they were attempting to eliminate the support he had garnered over the years among the people of the Imperium, undoubtedly to prevent any potential popular opposition to their attempt to end his military career. What they clearly hadn't counted on was Aetius winning the war before their little "briefing" was scheduled to begin. The General couldn't help but grin abit as he responded: "Well, I'd just like to say that it's a real shame you didn't wait to ambush me until after your briefing; if you had, you'd know, like most the rest of the planet probably does by now, that Kyotomo has already signed an accord ending its bid for independence, and my forces have already occupied its major cities; an occupation I had to leave my adjutant in charge of thanks to your repeated refusals to transfer or court-martial my 'utterly incompetent' second-in-command."

The Joint Chiefs all looked at each other with a stunned expression for a moment, before the Army's Joint Chief replied: "Do you really expect us to believe that you completed an entire planetary invasion in a matter of hours?"

"No I don't" Aetius replied "Because I didn't have to. I challenged the leader of the independence movement, Shogun Ishimida, to a magnikai and..."

"A magni-what?" the Navy's Joint Chief interrupted.

"A magnikai. It's an ancient Bushidist tradition in which two honorable leaders who oppose each other duel to avoid the destruction a war would bring. I'm not surprised you've never heard of it." That last comment earned a scornful look from the Navy's Joint Chief, while his Army counterpart couldn't help but grin a little. The General continued: "As I was saying, I challenged Shogun Ishimida to a magnikai, and after he agreed to have his XO end his planet's independence movement should I win, I engaged him in single-combat and killed him. His successor honored our terms, and after he signed an accord, my forces proceeded to occupy the planet."

"That's quite a tale General" the Chairman stated, while leaning forward in his chair "And also quite difficult to believe."

"By all means, have your people confirm it than; I'm in no great hurry."

The Chairman nodded in response, and motioned to one of his aides, who then hurried out of the room to follow his orders. About half-an-hour passed as the fellow checked multiple different sources, undoubtedly hoping to find someone who denied Aetius' story, but after confirming what Aetius said was true he reentered the room and slowly approached the Chairman, whispering his findings in the man's ear. The Chairman then cleared his throat and stated: "It appears that you are telling the truth after all General, so I will drop the dereliction of duty charges. Though we will be keeping a close eye on your actions in the future to ensure they remain within the Imperium Army's operational protocols. You are also to return at 0800 tomorrow for an official debrief on the Kyotomo situation; until then you are dismissed." The camera drones deactivated as the Chairman slammed his gavel, and the Joint Chiefs quietly filed out of the room shortly thereafter; no doubt disappointed at their inability to eliminate their most valuable General.

Aetius just shook his head at that sad sign of the times, and walked towards the Headquarter's main exit; so long as he had to return tomorrow morning, he figured he might as well spend the night at his family's estate instead of returning to his ship. To his surprise however, as he exited the building there was none of the usual shuffling and bustling of people in front the Headquarters, and the streets instead were packed with shield-bearing Guards keeping watch over a mass assembly of people who began cheering when Aetius stepped into their view. It seemed the Joint Chiefs' plan to eliminate Aetius' popular support by publicly airing the proceedings had the opposite effect, as news of Aetius' victory over the Kyotomo rebels through single-combat had spread throughout the Imperium, making the General more popular than ever.

In times past only the Emperor would've attracted such crowds, but as he had spent the last few decades in seclusion and his daughters' struggle for power was pushing the Imperium to the brink of civil war, the people had to look outside the Imperial family for new heroes, and for now at least, it seemed many had decided on one Johnathan Aetius; the Hero of Rigel IV, and now also of Kyotomo. How this popular support might earn the General new allies or new enemies remained to be seen, but for the moment he would gladly exploit it to bum a few free drinks. As he raised his hand high into the air, the cheering began to quiet down, and Aetius loudly addressed the crowd, stating: "I thank you all for your support, and hope you will extend that support to the brave men and women of the Imperium military, without whom I most certainly would not be standing here today." The crowd let out a loud cheer, and when they quieted down again, the General continued: "Now then, who here would care to join me and my fellow soldiers for a drink?!" The crowd cheered again and began to chant "Aetius! Aetius! Aetius!" as the General worked his way through them to the nearest bar...

[Imperialisium]

Procyon Primaris

Procyon Primaris was an ancient world of mankind. Procyon was colonized before the Imperium was founded, long before the early Augustin Dynasty, in a time when Solaria and Old Earth was still known. The wonders of a Galaxy long past. Procyon Primaris was a proud world. Twice dealt harsh blows for sedition in the first two thousand years of the Imperium's existence. The first time led to the planet being temporarily abandoned for two hundred years. The second led to half the planet being glassed and an overt campaign to assimilate the planet into the Imperial fold. Yet, vestiges of its ancient culture remain. One such cultural note is how magistrates of the planet wear full bottom powered wigs and the petticoat is fashionable in the worlds cities in its Northern hemisphere. The Southern hemisphere is desert interspersed with ruins. A constant reminder of what open rebellion led too.

*crunch*

In the expansive deserts of the Southern hemisphere. Cloaked in dirty brown. Blotched and weather worn. Goggles on his face, wide brimmed hat, a humming device in his brown gloved hands. He was looking for something among the dunes. A small, brown and grey, dinghy of a vessel hovered meters above the sand.

*crunch*

some hard dirty beneath a layer of sand. No, it wasn't dirt. It was glass. Crushed glass. From the Imperial orbital bombardment carried out by Emperor Ludveg for the assassination of his father. The boots of the man crunched further through the glass desert until he reached the other side of a sand dune. A stone entrance lay half buried in the sand.

Imperial Palace Docking Station 14

The attendant keyed several buttons on his console. Within a minute a single Praetorian was seen striding towards Urbanus. The polished gold suit of ancient armor glittered in the light as the solemn warrior approached. Face masked under an aegis, all enclosing high helm, a red plume flowed from the top. Imperial effigies adorned the armor and its ancient, arcane, forgotten technologies whirred silently. The Praetorian stopped just short of Urbanus. Towering over him.

"Audience granted." The words where monotone, but crystal clear, this was a warrior who at the slightest possible danger to the Emperor could separate Urbanus' head from his shoulders without a question being asked nor expected. Praetorians could be the judge, jury, and executioner of any Imperial subject. From the lowest street urchin to the ultra wealthy and powerful.

The Praetorian turned on his heel and moved without another word. Cape flowing the Praetorian led Urbanus through the maze that was the Imperial Palace. Its labyrinthine, monolithic, majesty was without compare. Eventually the two arrived in the massive throne room. Gilded in diamonds, gold, silver, and all manner of gems from a million worlds. The Celestial Throne, the heart of the Galaxy, sat on a raised dais. The throne was of diamond color and texture. But its texture, appearance, was like a galaxy. Billions of glittering reflections and hues of all imaginable color where in the throne. Venous, nebulous, colors in the throne made its descriptors so unbelievably true. Its sculptors heralding from old Solaria in an age now long forgotten. The exact materials and workings of the throne, if it had any, has long since been forgotten. For the old Solarian texts that describe the throne are utterly incomprehensible to current Imperial Academia. The Solarian language itself was beautiful if incredibly complex and alien even to human tongues. Scholars who could decipher Solarian texts often had to supplement any translation with conjectures and best guesses. Every translation was approximate, transliterations where even less precise.

On the throne sat a white haired, aging, world weary man in plain white robes. The Emperor of the Galaxy. Baldor. First of his name.

[Laurvier]

Branth Tarkenby

At that bar was Jarl Branth Tarkenby and five of his trusted Huskarls. They were a damn strange sight to behold among the citizens of Nova Terra. These were burly men that wore fur mantles and had strange haircuts. Thangarians had a reputation to be raucous lot always spoiling for a fight and dressed in their traditional garb which made them look like barbarians. Branth liked to play up the Valkyries' Thangarian origins. It helped them get contracts. But Jarl Branth assured the establishment manager there would be no trouble and slipped him a generous tip. All of them sat around a corner table drinking some kind of dark beer. Pretty women sat on their laps giggling at their jokes, listening to their boasts and flirting with them. One of Branth's men had "ordered" them ahead of time from a local agency for entertainment. They easily had the money and did not care for sincerity.

"Fenrir is the best ship in the galaxy. Had her since I was a lad. Fast, sturdy and a terrible beauty to behold. Aye, she's got some scars on her but that only enhances her character." Branth said to a beautiful raven haired woman he had his arm around.

"I've never been on a dragonship. I would love to see it. Along with the captain's quarters...." She replied with a smile.

That was when they heard the rancor outside. The sound grew and grew until the source entered the bar. Branth recognized the face that entered, General Aetius. He knew the General by reputation as he suspected the General knew him. Aetius was on the list of potential employers Branth had contacted, inviting them to make offers to contract the Valkyries. Their group along with the women studied the mob entering as crowds attracted crowds. The crowd looked back at them for they stood out like a sore thumb. There were a few whispers as to the Rabbit but the hysteria over Aetius's moment generally remained his. Branth caught Aetius's eye and raised his glass in a friendly salute.

[Brusia]

High-General Johnathan Aetius
Nova Terra

It took a little while, but Aetius eventually managed to work his way through the crowd, shaking hands and taking pictures along the way, to arrive inside the nearby bar. As many in the group followed in behind him, the bartenders moved about quickly to fill all the new orders. Aetius looked around for a place to sit, when he noticed a group of Thangarians in one of the corners of the room; though they were a little uncivilized for the Nova Terran native's tastes, he always respected their warrior heritage and fighting spirit. When one of the Thangarians raised a glass towards Aetius, the General recognized the fellow as Branth Tarkenby, the leader of the "Valkyries" mercenary group which had contacted him recently to inform him they were open to new contracts.

Aetius approached the group and took a seat across from the mercenary leader, motioning for one of the bartenders to bring him a drink as he did so. "Jarl Tarkenby, right?" the General asked while waiting for his drink. Normally he'd reach out to shake hands at this point, but he didn't want to inconvenience the young woman seated in the Jarl's lap, so instead he continued: "I got the message that your group is open to offers for a new contract..." He was interrupted when the bar's owner arrived with a glass of the same scotch he ordered every time he visited this bar. The General's genetic modifications rendered him immune to alcohol's intoxicating effects, but he found that talking over a few glasses of liquor often helped things to proceed more smoothly, and he had developed something of a taste for scotch over the years. When he reached into his pocket to grab some credits to pay for the drink the owner put his hand up and stated: "After what you did on Kyotomo, this one's on the house General." Aetius raised his glass and replied "Much obliged" before taking a sip and turning back towards Tarkenby:

"You may have heard that I'm not on the best of terms with the Navy's Joint Chief at the moment, so I might be in the market to hire on some merc ships for my next campaign, but I'm only interested in hiring the best-of-the-best. Now, I've heard some good things about the Valkyries, but I've heard plenty of good things about other mercenary groups as well, so I'd like to hear in your own words: what is it that makes you better than all the other merc groups out there, and why should I hire you instead of one of them?"

[Laurvier]

Branth Tarkenby
Nova Terra


"General Aetius." Branth said in reply to his greeting.

They listened to General Aetius. The Thangarians looked at each other with grins on their faces then burst out laughing. Branth took a drink of his dark beer then turned to the woman sitting on his lap. "General Aetius here thinks I have to convince him. But the Valkyries have already developed their reputation to the point where we don't have to prove ourselves anymore. Plenty of offers out there for us." He said to her.

"That's like me. We're both at the top of our field for the service we provide." She giggled.

Branth stroked her hair. "Really he has to convince me. Sure, he is a man popular with the rabble. But the rabble don't hire me out do they? No. Those with deep pockets do. It will be to my detriment if I work with a man who is so unpopular with the elite. Would it be a stain upon the Valkyries good name if we ever associated ourselves with him? Certainly concerns me."

"We too make sure only the most respectable become our clients. Quite understandable." She said.

"What about if they offered enough credits? Does that help alleviate your concerns as to their respectability?" Branth asked.

She nodded her head. "That helps. But price turns on many factors. Like what they're asking for. Some clients want something special. Special is expensive."

"Indeed. I'm more a specialty provider myself. Wouldn't want to use my Valkyries as your typical ships of the line. Speed and maneuverability is our niche. Lightning strikes, raids, search and destroy, penetrating deep into the enemy rear..." He winked at her and she laughed.

Finally Branth turned back to Aetius. "You're a good soldier. I like good soldiers so you're welcome to revel with us if that's what you're here for. I'm a mercenary. I fight for credits. Either make an offer to that end or stop wasting my time."

[Dragos Bee]

Ascot Rider

"It seems we've found our jackpot, Captain Hua," Ascot rider said as The Discovery neared the large, frozen-over spaceship. This vessel was very much the antithesis of the rough and angular craft favored by the Imperial Navy, its long-forgotten engineers preferring to use rounded corners, smooth curves, and domes. A preliminary analysis with the scanners showed the systems to be dormant, and the material structure to be more suited to withstanding the ravages of space than true combat between starships.

Captain Hua Zhou, her red hair tied in a bun, replied, "Indeed we have; Ali has hacked into the systems with remarkable ease - the databanks say that the date of launch was 5777; before the Galactic Imperium. We're looking at one of the ships of myth here; a Sleeper vessel."

If Ascot's real age hadn't been 70, his jaw would have dropped, his mouth agape. As it was, he managed to suppress any outward sign of surprise as he asked, "This might be the most important find since...forever. Think of the knowledge we can get from this; we've opened a gateway to the past." His lips pursed. "How many people does it carry?"

"300,000 men, women, and children; 100,000 adults are military personnel," Captain Zhou said. "Cargo includes an arsenal of primitive kinetic weapons; their effectiveness is debatable. Nevertheless, you'd say there's no doubting the effectiveness of a military mind, no matter how primitive."

"You know me so well," Ascot replied. "After all, patterns repeat themselves endlessly." A grin from Captain Zhou.

"Well," the spacer/archeologist said, "let's go wake up our new friends..."

[Brusia]

High-General Johnathan Aetius
Nova Terra

Aetius chuckled abit at the response to his proposition, then took another sip of his drink and replied: "You may be a big fish in your little pond, but compared to the merc companies the Army usually contracts out to, you barely even register as a speck on the radar. Hell, the Greywater Company has millions of personnel working for them; if they weren't such a bunch of stuck up assholes" Looking to the woman on the Jarl's lap, he stated: "Pardon my language, miss" before turning back to Tarkenby and continuing: "I'd be talking to them right now. I just thought it might be interesting to work with you Thangarians for a change; I heard you bunch liked to fight for fighting's sake and that's something I can respect, but if you'd rather take contracts protecting a bunch of rich folks and merchant ships from the occasional ragtag pirate instead of participating in a bona fide planetary conquest, than I guess your warrior reputation has been exaggerated."

The communication device on his wrist suddenly began to blink, and he pulled up his jacket sleeve to check the incoming message. After tapping the appropriate icon, the message opened and revealed itself to be from his adjutant to inform him that the policing force had arrived at Kyotomo to take over the occupation of the planet and relieve his forces. Knowing that this meant his troops would soon be ready to redeploy, he quickly finished off the last of his scotch, and prepared to head out to get his next orders. Placing the empty glass in front of him for the bartender to retrieve later, he stood up from his seat and stated to the mercenary leader:

"Well, duty calls. Oh, but in case I wasn't clear, this isn't a personal contract we're talking about, it'll be through the Imperium Army for the duration of my next campaign. The Army may not be the omnipotent juggernaut it used to be, but one thing it's not short on is credits; whoever I decide to award the contract to can name their price. If you decide you're up for some real fighting for a change, you know how to reach me; otherwise I'm sure one of your competitors will be only too happy to take the contract instead." After saying a final "Good day, gentlemen" as a subtle insult to the group of warriors to try and rouse their fighting spirit, he made his way back through the group of people who had followed him in, still shaking hands and taking pictures along the way, to get back outside the bar.

The crowds had mostly dispersed by the time he left the drinking establishment (though whether that was by choice, or due to interference on the part of the guards was not entirely clear) and he was able to return to the military headquarters with little interruption. Normally, he would proceed to inform the Joint Chiefs that his forces would soon be ready to redeploy and discuss his next objectives, but since they were undoubtedly not in the mood to speak with him at the moment, he instead proceeded to his office where he grabbed his uniform overcoat in the hopes it would help him to blend in on the way to speak with someone who could bypass the Joint Chiefs in issuing him his next objectives: Verina.

As he left the HQ and made his way to the Imperial Palace, he thought back to the Wars of Religion where he first met the Protector of the Faith. He was only a Vice-General in those days, but the elite reputation of the soldiers under his command often led to their being chosen to serve in the Vanguard of invading forces, where Aetius was only too happy to lead them into the thick of battle from the front, and which earned him a seat at a large number of briefings and other events with the brass and the Emperor's daughter herself. The two got to know each other fairly well after fighting together over the course of the seven year conflict, and Verina was one of the few leaders Aetius grew to respect in that war.

When he arrived at the Palace courtyard, he began working his way towards the colossal structure the Imperial family called home. (Or a home at least). It had been far too long since he'd last had the chance to meet with Verina in person; the two were always so busy it was difficult to keep in contact, and when they did speak it was usually via comm-link. Since he hadn't made an appointment he knew there was a good chance she'd still be too busy to speak with him now, and if that was the case he could always leave a message, but in the event she had some time available, he hoped she'd enjoy the surprise visit.

As he approached the main staircase, two Praetorians leveled their weapons at him and demanded that he identify himself. Before he even had the chance to do so however, he looked up at them and one of the guards lowered his weapon and stated:

"Ah, General Aetius, I didn't recognize you in the overcoat."

"Good, that was kind of the idea" he joked, before stating: "Could you contact Verina for me? I was hoping she might have some time to speak with an old friend from the War."

"Just a moment, I'll contact one of her guards and see if she's available." The Praetorian then pressed his fingers against the side of his helmet while he speaking into his comm device, and Aetius waited to hear whether or not he'd be able to meet with the Emperor's daughter...

[The Vekta-Helghast Empire]

---

The Clarifont Dynasty, the Bank of Terra.

---

The Clarifont Home, Nova Terra.

Their segment of the tower rose above all others for a hundred miles in every direction, the bank’s markings coating its side for all to see in fluorescent colouring. Its interior, although decorated with great fineries, was humble by their standards - it could’ve been lined with the finest gold and silvers, but instead they had hardwoods imported and fine artwork. Like a manor of old. And Lanard’s personal study was no exception - a virtual fire setup behind a dark oak desk, a fine burgundy carpet lining the floor and wooden panels covering the walls in the same dark oak fashion as the desk. It was here he spent most of his free hours, when out of the office - even this early morning, with the sun just rising, pen in hand as he wrote his daily thoughts and ideas. To his left a bookshelf covered in a mix of purchased and home-written books, both fiction and nonfiction, mostly of a philosophical or political nature. But this night, his writings were of a far more real and practical nature, not theoretical as the books upon those shelves. Notes on speaking points for various officials he hoped to meet over the coming days and numerous issues that he wished to discuss. But his writing would soon come to an abrupt halt, his wife creeping in through the doorway, closing it behind her, his eyes raising to meet her as her voice rang out, as soft as it were, ”I presume those are your correspondents for today?”

She questioned, motioning towards Lanard’s desk, slowly making her way into the room, halting just before his desk, wresting her knuckles atop it, ”Perhaps I could be of assistance? You need not bear the burden of management alone, and sometimes a softer touch can be of incredible value.” She concluded before lowering herself into the seat opposite him, only to find him rising from his own chair, leaving his pen on the tabletop. Gradually he made his way around the desk, finger tips dragging along its surface, soon taking a seat on its edge just before her, brushing back her hair, ”Not only can you be of assistance, but you’ll play a pivotal role in my plans for the day. I wish for you to go to the Imperial Palace and seek meeting with the Princesses, privately. With either of them, but be sure that they’re not both there.” A hand creeps behind him, sliding a sheet from the opposite side of the desk to his side before extending it out to Elizabeth, ”These are the talking points, but I’m sure you won’t need them. It’s clear what we want to take from these ‘meetings’. A clearly defined line of succession. Uncertainty breeds economic downturn. On the one hand, that means no one’s spending their money and they’re keeping it in our bank, but on the other hand, it makes finding sound investments difficult - no one wants to invest money in expanding their firm if it’s going to be destroyed in the next ten years by civil war. We need to make sure that the throne is secured quickly and efficiently by whoever’s to ascend. And even better than that, we need to be seen to actively support the person that takes it. Think about it, who’re the Royals going to trust with their personal accounts? The central bank, or a close friend and ally? We’ve already won over the private sector, we need only dominate the government accounts and we’ll be unstoppable.” A smile crept over her face as she slouched back into her chair, ”And you think they’ll respond better to another woman than yourself?” She questioned, running her tongue along the front of her teeth, only to quickly receive a one word response, ”Precisely.”

Thirty minutes later..

Elizabeth found herself leaning over her personal terminal, quickly opening up a line of communications to the Palace’s security, ”This is Governess Elizabeth Clarifont of the Bank of Terra, looking to arrange a meeting with a representative of the Royal Household as to discuss a number of business related matters and to help ease the uncertainty among the business community with regards to the line of succession. I believe a joint statement from the bank and a member of the royal family would go some ways to easing market tensions and encouraging growth in the economy once again. As such, I again formally request a meeting with a member of the Royal family or one of their designated representatives, for both business of a personal nature and of a more public nature.”

[Krugmar]

Adica Skarn
Jericho
Jericho System

Inside the vast station orbiting the harsh world of Kol Vas, a man cloaked in simple red robes wandered through the empty hallways. There was not a whisper, nor a voice carried on the artificial breeze. The silence was all encompassing, and to an outsider it would have been crushing. This was a normal state of affairs in Jericho, the Hounds preferred silence. This was their escape from the relentless bloodletting and slaughter that filled their lives, a place they could truly call home.

Monsters, that was what the rest of the Empire called them. Angels of Death striding silently across the battlefield, slaughtering mercilessly any who dared face them. Dogs of war let loose upon their master's bidding, tearing entire worlds to shreds without hesitation. Crazed fanatics worshipping their dark god through obscene rituals of blood and bone, delighting in chaotic orgies of butchery and carnage. Savage prisoners doomed to fight until death, for even the smallest bit of freedom. The more rumours, the more terror. The more terror, the more order. The more order, the less revolts.

A set of ornate doors opened, and sound flooded into the hallway of men shouting and grunting as they pummelled each other into the dirt. The arena was small, and so the 17 combatants still alive had little room to manoeuvre. Most of them had tattoos, and were visibly tribesmen from Kol Vas, while there were 2 from Kol Sakhnin. The three corpses were also men formerly from Sakhnin. To win your place in the Hounds, one had to kill for it. Out of 20 candidates, only 5 could emerge from the Arena to undergo training. After a year of training, those 5 would once again be sent in, and the victor would be initiated.

"A good lot this." said a figure to his right, Captain Zakim of the 3rd Banner, and one of the few from Sakhnin who made it through the trials. "The Sakhnin lot won't make it through, the tribesmen seem to have made a temporary truce to remove them." he continued, pointing to five of the combatants tearing one of the prisoners to pieces. The other from Sakhnin lost heart at the sight of this, and attempted to flee in vain. After they finished him off, the true fight began.

"The Valkathi have sent five fighters. No doubt they will work together to eliminate all opposition, so that their tribe may be honoured." Adica pointed out.

Zakim nodded, then shook his head, "No, see, a truce once again. Good riddance to those Valkathi, they made it far too obvious." he replied, as the Valkathi were soon picked off one by one by the larger force. The alliance fell apart in an instant, and the arena became a bloodbath for the next two minutes.

"An Alarami in the victors, a good omen for them, they have not reached this stage in twenty year." Zakim said. Though he was not in charge of the imitation process, that falling to Skarn clerks, he was the unofficial taskmaster, and one obsessed with the history and rules of the process. He had not been born a tribesman, but his tattoos, gifts from several tribes, revealed his greatest regret, and one that he could have done nothing about.

Adica said nothing, departing the arena as swiftly as he had come. He was on edge, for they had not been called to service for over a year, despite the empire having severe problems. Likely to prevent rumours that it was truly on the decline, or that some of the spontaneous riots and rumours of rebellion were seen as serious. When the Hounds were unleashed, all knew about it, and all knew what it meant.

For now he would wait in this fortress, until their master called.