There was the sound of smashing glass as a tumbler shattered against the wall of a different room in the Imperial Palace.
"Panic attack?! Does the Imperial Regent think we are fools!" Raged a dark skinned lord.
He was Lord Nour from the remains of the Nordafrik Conclaves. It was originally a thriving region of destroyed Terra. Desert wastes were irrigated with centrifuged and filtered water supplies. Resin covered farmlands were restored around the central megapolis of Xozer. Their society was both highly advanced, and altruistic. However, all that ended during the long war with the Kingdom of Ursh. Warp magics and sorcerers were deployed by both sides. Yet, after the fall of Xozer, Ursh remained and the Nordafrik Conclaves returned to a desert waste. Only minor fort cities and garrison towns survived. Much technology and knowledge was lost, forever destroying any hope of restoring the lands' ancient fertility.
Their entry into the Imperium was less violent than that of the Pan-Pacific Empire, Albia, and their next door neighbor the Adedeji. Afterall, they were already destroyed once before. There was not much they could do as the Emperor's Thunder Warriors marched up to each of their walls with an Imperial Herald at the forefront.
The Emperor's promise to destroy Ursh was appealing to many as well. Vengeance was an infectious concept to the downtrodden populace. Their chiefs, politicians, presidents, and governors also found the promise appealing. What better way to distract from the troubles of today than pointing the finger at an old enemy.
As a sign of loyalty, the Thunder Warriors were allowed to parade through the city the day they came. Usually, this would be an almost suicidal endeavor for the political ambitions of the leaders of the Nordafrik Conclave. Few are partial to the idea of celebrating an occupying army. Yet, by proclaiming cooperation with the Imperium to be their salvation, they managed to save enough face to hold their positions.
This region provides a small, but motivated supply of troops for the Imperial Army. They have much experience surviving through hardship. With the destruction of Ursh by the Imperium as promised, many view the Emperor and the Imperium as the arbiter of justice and righteousness.
Of course, there is a vast gap in opinion between the average citizen, and those in the elite.
"A child could see through their antics!" Nour shouted as he pounded his fist against a small table. "Does Malcador want to destroy the image of security within the Imperial Palace?"
The other individual in the room whirred and clicked for a few moments, scanning the room with his inbuilt sensors before replying.
"There's no worry about that." Lord Vidar of the Terrawatt clans replied, having finished confirming no-one else was listening. "The main houses of those three agreed with the Imperium's conclusion after conducting their own autopsy. If the original houses agree, there's not much to dispute without causing an argument with those houses. It would be seen as interference in their jurisdiction and a besmirchment of their honor. I don't imagine accusing them of covering up the death of their own would end well."
Monotone laughter came from the lord's mechanical vocal cords as Nour grabbed another tumbler and began filling it with tonic water as a chaser for his previous drink.
"The Imperial Regent played it well." Vidar continued. "He got rid of three corrupt officials, sent a warning to all the other minor lords, and forced the main houses of those three in Albia to be obedient. After all, they already have a black mark against themselves for sending those three. I also heard that there were a couple of internal scuffles within Albia as well. No doubt Malcador also told them who the co-conspirators of those three were in Albia. Compared to all that, pretending that the Imperium's story was true was the least they could do. Anything else would have sullied their own honor." Vidar clapped his hands together. The metal palms sounded like a hammer upon an anvil. "There's an old saying about killing two birds with one stone, but the Imperial Regent certainly has taken far more than just two birds."
"Even if the official story holds, Malcador has gone too far." Nour muttered, slamming the tumbler on the table.
"He wanted to put us all in our place." Vidar shrugged. "Albia has become more and more vocal after the destruction of the Pan-Pacific Empire. You remember their cries for the execution of Narthan Dume and his lieutenants, don't you?"
Nour grimaced as the scene returned from memory. Hundreds of bearded men with varying degrees of pale blotchy skin howled from their section of royal benches in the hall of lords like spectators at a gladiatorial arena. Malcador was in the middle of it all, answering as many arguments as he could. Meanwhile, the Emperor watched from his throne high above the chamber, positioned to overlook all the others.
"Death! Death to Dume, and all who followed him!"
"Suffer not the last Tyrant of the Pan-Pacific! Take his life as he took many of ours!"
"The Imperium promised Albia the destruction of the Pan-Pacific Empire! Honor your words! Honor! Honor!"
The other lords from the other regions remained silent.
Even those from the Yndonesic Bloc did not bother to raise their voice. Despite having raided the Pan-Pacific Empire with their Stormbirds for half-a-century while the Imperium burned the Kingdom of Ursh to the ground. Despite hating everything and everyone related to religion, they did nothing but silently smile.
Narthan Dume's death was inevitable, whether they said anything or not. Why lower their standing in the Emperor's eyes when Albia would achieve their goals for them?
Nour had been an adolescent at the time, brought along as a secretariat to his great grand uncle's political entourage. He remembered the Emperor's face staring down at all of them, like a giant watching ants crawling over the ground.
"If the Captain-General of the Custodes hadn't lopped off the bastard's head on his own, we would have had to have a public execution." Vidar continued, bringing Nour back from his memories. "The Imperium would have lost face with the other conquered regions. The remaining holdouts of the Pan-Pacific Empire would have been enraged. The war would have lengthened. Accusations of the houses of Albia controlling the Imperium would have been thrown. Rumors of rebellion might have stopped being rumors." Vidar stopped for a moment to rescan the area around them.
"The old members of the Achaemenid Empire already feel that the Emperor gives the newer regions too much…" Vidar spoke in a grimmer tone than before. "And don't even get me started about the Yndonesic Bloc."
"You left out the Terrawatt Clans." Nour snorted. "The last of the Tripartite alliance that first joined the Imperium. Do you think your own so elevated over our politics?"
"We value logic over everything else." Vidar shrugged. "That is how our politics functions. So long as it is logical to work with the Imperium, we will work with the Imperium."
"And is it logical to do so?"
"It would be illogical to risk the Emperor's wrath." Vidar said quietly. "The damage is incalculable."
"Oh?" Nour laughed. "Do you fear the Thunder Warriors that much? Surely your people must have weapons that can penetrate the armor you designed for them."
"It is not the Imperium's soldiers, nor their weapons I fear."
"What do you mean?"
"Read 'The Chronicles of Ursh'. It should still be in the restricted sections of the Imperial Palace Library reserved for lords. Although, I am surprised. It is in part the history of your people." Vidar paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Then again, if what is described about the fall of Xozer is even fractionally true, it would not be unusual that nothing remained."
"Braggart." Nour spat.
"Apologies. In my lands, such sharing of knowledge would have been greeted with thanks."
Nour snorted again.
The Terrawatt Clans were a group of technophiles who had survived by burrowing under the Ural mountains. There they remained, mechanizing the parts of their bodies that could not withstand the lack of sunlight or the dusty carcinogenic tunnels they lived in. When the sensors they left behind finally showed the nuclear ice-age had ended, they emerged from isolation. Many warlords sought to barter or bully them into giving them their technology. All received the same lethal answer made of laser beams and lightning arcs. Only one is patron to their wares, and that one is the Emperor. What the Emperor gave the Theologiteks who ruled there has never been shared with outsiders, but what was received was soon seen by all.
It was they who designed the first series of Power Armor that adorned the Imperium's Thunder Warriors.
It was they who produced the bolters and bolt shells that every one of them carried.
"Have you heard anything else?" Nour asked. "No whispers amongst the other lords?"
"No." Vadir shook his head. "Everyone is too scared to hold private meetings like we are."
Nour snorted as if that was some sort of privilege.
"I only get to go to the orgies. The rumors from my homeland about me made sure I am not invited to any of the larger parties."
"Nothing there either." Vadir shook his head again.
"Fine." Nour sighed as he got up. "I'll bide my time like all the rest for now."
"Be careful, Nour." Vadir called out. "Not all in the Imperial Palace are as logical as the Terrawatt Clan."
"And what logic is there in associating with an accused serial rapist?" Nour muttered bitterly.
"Logic does not always make sense."
The Lord from the Nord Afrik snorted then left the room. As he walked down the hallway, he saw a servant girl walk towards him. He waited for her to pass his shoulder, then he grabbed her arm.
"You. Come with me." He growled.
"Wh-What?" The girl stammered as he began to pull her towards the nearest door in front of him.
He slammed it open, revealing a dark empty room with a single bed.
Blood drained from the girl's face, and she began to attempt to break free from his grip.
"Mercy my lord! Mercy!" She screamed.
Nour grit his teeth and he dragged her the rest of the way into the room, then threw her against the bed.
The girl gave a pained shriek as her head banged against the metal bed post, only to have her voice sealed into the room as Nour slammed and locked the door shut. Nour pulled out a spherical device that began to hum and glow as it scanned for any sign of evesdroppers. The girl continued to sob as Nour watched the readout from the device, then finally let out a sigh.
"You can stop pretending, Lady Callidus." He said.
Immediately, the girl's sobbing stopped. Soft girlish giggling replaced it that in turn metamorphosed into husky feminine laughter as the young servant girl's head broke apart and reformed into that of the red-haired assassin's.
"Did you not worry for a moment you might have the wrong girl?" She asked after her real face reformed.
"The female servants of the Imperial Palace avoid me due to the rumors spread about me from my home in Zafranat." Nour snorted. "Only male valets and boys come to take my orders. The maids and ladies in waiting give me a wide berth. The only woman to approach me so carelessly would be you."
"How foolish your old family must feel to have the rumors they spread about you used for your advantage." She chuckled as she stood up.
"It was a clever trap." Nour spoke as he pulled a data card from out under a fingernail. "Exile to the branch house, or exile to the Imperial Palace. The head even made things look amenable back home when he promised to approve my marriage to Amina should I bring enough favor from the Imperium onto our household."
"Then they blackened your name with rumors, forcing your only political contacts to be the eccentrical or sadistic."
"He was probably hoping I would be challenged to an honor duel. Possibly someone from Albia." Nour snorted. "Unfortunately for him, the nobles of Albia have so many mistresses and maids the story of a lord preying on servant girls is not much worse than a fart in a ballroom." Nour's tone turned dark and bitter for his next sentence. "That is a mistake my great grand uncle wouldn't have made."
"That won't happen anymore." Lady Callidus said as she took the data card from him. "As of last night, personal duels are punishable by death to both parties. Punitive actions will also be taken on the regions involved by order of the Imperial Regent. The Imperium cannot afford to waste important resources." She said as she gave him a wink.
"And how important is the information I give you now?" Nour narrowed his eyes. "These are the statements of courtesans and paramours. Prostitutes. No court will take them into consideration."
"Such sturdy yet frail things." Lady Callidus whispered as she swallowed the data card. "They take so much abuse and hear so many secrets to survive. Yet, they spill their hearts out to the first man that runs into them uninterested in sex or degradation."
"It takes time, trust, and mutual respect as well." He said irritably. "If it wasn't for the rumors of me having to pay my victims to stay silent, I would have had more questions asking where all my Imperial stipends were going."
"Oh, what did you buy them? Was it flowers?" Her voice sing-songed mockingly.
"Medication. Food. Water rations. Debts. Sometimes for them. Sometimes for their family." Nour replied sternly. "Not many enter that life-style willingly. They will be protected after this, won't they?"
The assassin blinked once then said, "The Imperium remembers all its loyal subjects."
"That's not an answer." He hissed back.
"Lord Nour." Lady Callidus spoke seriously this time. "Why did you come here?"
He froze as her green eyes bored into his mind, threatening a violent end at the first lie.
"To marry Amina." Nour said slowly.
"Have you given up on that goal?"
"No."
"And what are you willing to do to achieve it?"
"Anything and everything."
"Then, that should be all that is necessary."
That should have been the end of it, but Nour grit his teeth and glared back at the assassin.
"Even then, I want to know."
Lady Callidus broke eye contact and sighed, releasing Nour from her stare. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat on his forehead.
"My word means less than those prostitutes, Nour. I don't exist. Whatever I say doesn't mean a thing." She said gently.
"Yet, you are the only one I can ask."
Several moments passed in silence, before the assassin started to speak again.
"Within the next half-century the Imperium plans to introduce a universal basic income scheme for all biological women regardless of age. Several hundred randomly selected women will be the 'test group' to confirm the effectiveness of this legislation. The women who have cooperated with you and their families will be given new names and backstories during this selection process."
Nour's expression turned quizzical. "What is the point of that legislation?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Lady Callidus shrugged. "To increase the population of Terra as quickly and naturally as possible. Economic and social stress are two of the greatest reasons for avoiding having a child, and the Emperor's plans require more of them."
It took a while for the lord to digest that. He had heard many things in the private saunas, bedchambers, and dancing parlors about the various goings on of the Imperial Palace. Yet, this was one of the most ridiculous he had ever heard.
"For that reason?" He sputtered.
"It was that, or revoke all women's rights and economic freedoms. The population statistics workout to the same result. However, the predicted loss of industrial output was unacceptable in that scenario, according to Ezekiel Sedayne and Amar Astarte." The assassin snickered to herself for a moment. "It was quite amusing to see the two of them working together, finding a solution to their common problem." She saw a worried look cross the lord's face and spoke to reassure him. "Don't worry. The genetic partners for the 'test group' will be more physically attractive than any of the lords, and their meetings will be organized to be non-traumatic. Lonely one-night stands perhaps, but better than their current lot, isn't it?"
If Nour had heard this at the beginning of his tenure at the Imperial Palace, his stomach might have rolled. Now, he merely grimaced before replying, "It will have to do."
Lady Callidus pulled a small pocket watch out of the pocket of her uniform; a standard issue timepiece to all servants in the palace.
"It's been about 20 minutes. I should be able to leave without besmirching your manhood too much." She smirked as she tore the sleeve of her uniform, then the hem of one side of her skirt. "Oh, before I forget, I have something for you this time." She opened her mouth, and a metal tube popped out of her throat. "It's from your Amina." She said, wiping the letter tube on the apron of her uniform before handing it to him. "Destroy the letter once you have finished reading. I will meet you again in two weeks for your reply."
The assassin's face rearranged itself into the servant girl's, but with a bruised cheek and black eye. She unlocked the door and burst out of the room, running into the opposite wall, then sobbing and stumbling her way down the corridor. The door slammed shut on its own, leaving Nour to himself. He sighed and pulled out the spherical scanner he had used earlier. Confirming his privacy, he opened the letter tube. The scent of her perfume hit him first, and the memories of how he had ended up here hit him like a tidal wave.
Lord Nour had been the fourth child of one of the many branch houses belonging to the ruling class of the city of Zafranat. Branch houses are where those who have stepped down from the race of succession go to live in peace. In exchange for giving up dreams of power, they gain an increased degree of personal freedom, and swear an oath to serve their old family in the main house.
The individuals in these branch houses provide a stable population of blood relatives. This makes them trustworthy enough to use as high-class servants, handmaids, guards, and confidants. They also serve as a reserve gene-pool, should the main house become too inbred. Gene-tech means the necessity of such back-ups are unlikely. However, for all nobility, breeding is as important to them as their political power and material possessions. No chance can be taken.
Members of the branch houses who endear themselves through skill or personality to members of the main house are adopted by them. Restored to the main house, they shed the role of servant and are finally treated as equals.
Nour was first taken from his family in the branch house at the age of 9 to be educated as a scribe for the next lord to be appointed to the Imperium. This lord was his great grand uncle.
In his studies, he showed more promise than was expected. His talents were soon reassigned to be used as a secretariat. His organizational skills and time managing abilities would ensure the new lord's duties ended within his work hours. Thus, no more of his precious time would be spent than was necessary.
That was what he was taught by his tutors. They too were from the branch houses, but long years of servitude had left them resigned to their fate.
Systems such as these are ubiquitous amongst the various ruling classes that survived the Imperium's conquest. The name may differ. Minor rules regarding their freedoms may vary. Yet, the core ideology of there being born winners and born losers remains.
The position of lord to the Imperium for Zafranat was both a foreign relations office, and a sacrificial lamb. All who were sent to the Imperial Palace were under the Emperor's protection and mercy. Nour's house used the retiring head of the main house to fill this position. They put their oldest and most experienced members in the Emperor's hands to show their loyalty. Simultaneously, their most adept speaker and plotter entered the Imperial Palace's politics. That way, Zafranat would ensure it did not lose out on any Imperial bill.
Lord Karim, Nour's great grand uncle, was a fair but stern head of house. He valued ability over everything else. Many members of his own family were thrown out into the branch one with their privileges and rights stripped for being useless to him.
Nour learned many things from his great grand uncle while he acted as his secretary.
The base cultures of the other regions.
The mannerisms necessary for interacting in polite and private societies.
When lord Karim's tenure as an Imperial Lord ended, he was replaced by his son; the next previous head. It was at this time he adopted Nour back into the main house, as a reward for his services.
Nour used the political skills he learned within the Imperial Palace, as well as his contacts there to gain favor within the main house. It was there he met Amina.
Amina was his third cousin once removed and the 5th daughter of the current head of the house of Zafranat. Despite her parents' hopes and upbringing, she had political aspirations of her own. She was a strong believer in the Imperium, and its mandate of bringing order back to Terra.
"Politics is the economics of trust." She had said when he asked her what the word meant the first time they met. "Legislation without enforcement is meaningless, but it is not like the people begin to break the law the moment the Arbites are out of sight. They trust the law because they believe the ones who make the law have their interest in mind. Hence, they follow the law even when there is no one to catch them breaking it. The less trust there is, the poorer one's politics becomes. When one is bankrupt on trust, then only violence can be used to maintain order. That leads to dictatorship and destruction. The Imperium enters a new period of order right now. If each region can be stabilized, and specialize them to make them interdependent… We may never have a war on Terra again."
Idealistic daydreaming.
That was what Nour thought when he first heard it, but it was an interesting topic of debate. Many nights were spent speaking of how one could try to keep the balance of power between military and civilian branches of government. They debated whether there was such a thing as a moral coup as well as many other subjects too sensitive or hyperbolic for professional circles.
This unfortunately caught the ire of Amina's father, the current head of the main house and Nour's third cousin.
He did not want Amina talking about politics, especially when he planned to marry her off to the consul of the neighboring city. He was also far more traditional than his great grandfather, Lord Karim. Nour was originally of the branch house, and hence eternally tainted with its lesser stench in his eyes.
Lord Karim was dead from old age by this time. Without his original backer and the head of the main house aligned against him, Nour was given one of two choices.
Return to the Imperial Palace where his talents would be used for Zafranat, or return to the branch house as a servant.
Had Nour not built a loyal base of his own allies within the main house, he might not have received this choice.
He chose what was effectively exile within the Imperial Palace. But, when he stepped off the transport back into the golden halls of the palace, he found a series of slanderous stories awaiting him. Tales of him attempting to force himself upon one of the nobility back home were already being exchanged. Numerous rumors of servant girls disappearing into his rooms had already begun to spread.
Nour had not expected such a self-destructive attack. The shortsightedness of the head of Zafranat shocked him to such a degree that he reacted slower than usual to the accusations. Tarring Nour's name brought the decision to send him here by Zafranat into question. It gave the impression of disloyalty, and endangered Zafranat's security.
Perhaps the head of Zafranat thought he had nothing to fear with the Imperium having conquered almost all of the Eurasian continent. The new age of temporary peace had convinced him that the Imperium's fangs had been dulled. But, Nour knew better. The Imperium had not changed from its inception. Disobedience would be punished with an iron fist. Some corruption and enrichment was allowed, but the price for crossing the line was dire. He spent more nights worried about what the Imperium would do to Zafranat for its apparent disloyalty instead of his own personal honor.
It was at this point the Imperial Assassin established contact with him.
At the time, Lady Callidus had disguised herself as one of the courtesans Nour had been using as a personal informant. He made sure to keep cordial connections with these women to keep a pulse on the underbelly of the Imperial Palace.
The actual courtesan had sold out one of her patron lords, informing the Imperium of a blackmarket for old stubbers and other guns. The lord in question was supposed to be collecting these weapons from the battlefields, and rendering them down as scrap metal. Instead, he sold them on the blackmarket, bought cheap metals from other brokers, and pocketed the difference.
The courtesan had heard a fragment of his plot when he was boasting about his riches, and her information lead to the 'suicide' of that lord.
Officially, the courtesan disappeared down a dark alley and was never seen again. In truth, by that time it was Lady Callidus masquerading as her, ending a few other traitors not worth official sanction. The courtesan herself already had a new face and life somewhere else.
"There was a cherry boy running about doing his best pretending to be loyal to the Imperium instead of dealing with his own rumors." She said as she returned to her original form in front of him. "If you want to show true loyalty, then do as I say. The Imperium shall remember all those who serve it."
After that, he ceased all efforts to restore his honor. He used his blackened name as an excuse for apparent raucous spending. It became easier associating with the less savory individuals of the Imperial Palace. There, he gathered information for the Imperial Assassin, and showed his loyalty with his service.
Nour finished reading Amina's letter, then brought it to his nose to breathe in the perfume she had sprinkled upon the pages to remind him of her.
"Everything is moving into place." He said to himself as he rolled and returned the letter back into its tube. There, a single button press incinerated it.
Her letter mentioned that his exile here did not sit well with many members of the main house, including the remaining past heads. It sent the wrong message to the Imperial Palace. They were supposed to send their most treasured individuals here as a sign of fealty. Even if Nour was capable, the sudden change in lordship and his relative disposability compared to previous ones would no doubt raise several eyebrows.
Tarring Nour's reputation was not looked favorably upon either. Besides the dishonorable nature of the act, it once again showed disrespect to the Imperium. Sending a representative as a lord with such a tarred reputation was a sign of insolence.
When Nour's tenure ended, Amina's father might not be the head any longer, if he was even a member of the main house. At this rate, his marriage to Amina would come with or without the Imperial Assassin's help.
However, Zafranat's standing within the Imperium would be irreparably damaged without his cooperation.
The Imperium was planning something. He didn't know what, but he could see the groundwork of a grand plot being laid.
Malcador and his servants were sniffing for information. They were looking for the weaknesses of the lords in their halls. He had no idea whether the targets were the lords themselves, or the houses behind them. Whatever it was, Nour was going to ensure he and Zafranat were on the winning team.