"The turn of the millennia is upon us at long last!"
A wizened old man, dressed in fine clothing stood on the balcony of his skyscraping tower. Below him, millions gathered. His flock, the people of the planet Mox Exspirarus, had come before him to celebrate not just another new year, but the momentous dawn of the new millennia. Cheers erupted as he paused after delivering his first line. He allowed the crowd to calm down, and continued, raising his arms to the sky.
"The Emperor has allowed us to not just survive, but thrive for another millennia! Our people are strong! Our products are of the highest quality! Our faith is unquestionable! All of this, we owe to Him on Terra!"
As he concluded, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers again. The governor smiled, a warm smile he had never given in his life. Great firework shells detonated among the hive spires, casting a great yellow light upon the city square. Past the spires were smaller starships that had come into the atmosphere, which was normally illegal activity, but was permitted on this day.
"We bear great fruit for the Imperium! Our exports of alloys are second to none in our sector!" He briefly paused, and threw his arms as he gave his next praise. "Our sons join the Emperor's Angels!"
Yellow firework shells detonated again, and the crowd screamed again, louder than before. The governor was greatly pleased; his advisors had insisted that not inserting Cheering-Servitors around the city square would be a great blunder. As he looked over his shoulder, he saw a somewhat young man with chestnut hair and a beard, his marshal, who simply did not meet his gaze. The governor turned his head back around.
"On this momentous day, the Angels themselves will come down to celebrate with us! They have been out far and wide, vanquishing the foul xenos, mutants, and heretics wherever they may be found! They will be here within the hour, and they bear gifts! We are undeserving of their providence, of His providence, yet they have come to bless us. Please, my good people, stay, and greet them as warmly as your soul allows!"
The governor gave this last line and turned, walking into a grand room where his advisors awaited him. His throne sat on the other side of the space from him, and in the center was a grand holotable that projected a green map of the hive city. The advisors stood in a circle around it, facing their lord as he walked in.
"We were very wrong to doubt your judgment, my lord," spoke the marshal, who, like a shamed canid, hung his head.
"You simply wanted to make sure morale would be bolstered, which you cannot be faulted for, Canutus. However, you make the mistake of thinking of domestic matters with your military point of view. Naturally, the people would be perfectly willing to cheer, considering that the forty-second millennium is about to come to a close."
Marshal Canutus looked up slightly at this, and then lowered his head as a bow as opposed to being shamed. "You are right, Lord Pullox. I apologize."
"No matter, my good man. Now, on to business. Are the Mox Guard prepared to mobilize in the event of a riot or attack?"
The marshal gave a short nod. "The first, second, third, fourth, fifth, six, seventh, eighth, ninth, and twelfth companies are currently in different sections of the hive city and are prepared to respond quickly to any threat, my lord."
Pullox nodded, and turned his attention to the red-robed figure next to Canutus. "Magos Kilanthian, is the logistical front being properly handled? Are the Mox Guard reserve companies properly equipped?"
The Magos clicked and clacked for a brief second, unmoving. "The Moxians have been equipped to ninety-nine percent strength with a deviation of one percentage, which is about standard for a variety of factors such as misplacement, theft, convoy raid, and spontaneous firearm combustion." Kilanthian turned to the marshal. "Should your reserve companies be needed, marshal, they will be sufficient for quelling whatever situation arose."
Pullox turned his attention to the Arbite among his advisors. "Justicar, are there any outstanding incidents or reports?"
The Arbite stood at attention, jaw squared, eyes forward, hands held behind the small of his back. "A couple of would-be terrorists have been arrested and the odd family or two rounded up, but nothing that would hint to a large illegal effort, my lord. I can have the fifty new reports from the past two hours sent to your or the marshal's datalslates, should you wish."
Pollux shook his head. "Carry on, Justicar. Your efforts today will shape the peoples' attitudes for a long, long time."
The Justicar bowed his head, and stepped away from the other advisors. Kilanthian turned as he left, the clicks persisting. An older man, not quite as old as the ancient Governor Pullox, but still of considerable age and wisdom, spoke as the grand double-doors closed behind the Justicar.
"The financial reports are excellent, Pullox. Your speech to the people was not complete falsehood! Our exports of gilded alloys are quite the commodity among our sector."
Pullox gave a warm smile. "Thank you, Amicus. I am glad I instated you as my steward. That bumbling fool who held the position before you couldn't manage a line of servitors." It was the Steward's turn to smile now.
A large, imposing figure, the last of the advisors, stiffened his posture and spoke now, perhaps emboldened by the steward's display. The filter on his golden helmet scrambled his voice slightly, but not nearly to the point of being unintelligible. "The Auric Patricians fourth through seventh companies are on their way as we speak, Governor Pullox. I regret to inform you that the eight, ninth, and tenth are engaged elsewhere."
"Thank you, Captain Suetonius. I wish all of you could be present to inspire the commonfolk, but I understand. Give my thanks to your chapter master for allowing this to happen in the first place."
The Auric Patrician captain raised a large, golden fist to his golden breastplate, and exited the chamber. His pounding footsteps could be heard long after he left the room.