I reread the thread from the start and thought: what happened to the tourists? Sure, there's not a lot of them, and they weren't particularly liked, but we know the liberation was fairly bloodless and focused on infiltration and decapitation of loyalists, mostly by their subordinates. Which would have left the tourists intact. And we know a large number of tourist guards linked up with the Cardinal way back and survived to a one, and it's likely they brought their wards with them.
And then Emeli got her tentacles on my plot bunny.
Two years from the glorious Uprising, Slawkenberg has largely settled into two tiers. Firstly, the educated middle-to-upper class; the administrators, soldiers, entertainers, technicians and shopkeepers that kept Slawkenberg functional under it's previous incompetent regime, who now represent the Liberation Council in the running of Slawkenberg, and secondly the far larger pool of uneducated citizens who were there for the Giorbas to torment, and who despite the increasing automation brought by the Bringers Of Renewed Greatness and the ad-hoc education provided by them and the Administratum, still have difficulties transitioning into the vacated roles brought about by the promotion of the proponents of the Uprising.
Into this gap steps the small, but still important, group of people who have education, yet were neither at the forefront nor the targets of the Liberation - in other words, offworlders. The role that the former tourists and the surviving ship crews of Karamazov's ill fated expedition play in bridging the class gap is not insignificant despite the small numbers, and in light of the proposed educational reforms illuminative. In this paper, I will discuss how the -
Albriech Drakkon, former heir to House Drakkon on the hive world of Endlich, now a data forecaster, cuts off his entries into the data slate as a shapely leg enters his view. He looks up to see his supervisor Firis perched on his desk, smiling at him. The former ship logistical clerk was, much like him, one of the subjects of his paper, though she had climbed the ranks far more aggressively, as shown by her crescent moon pin over her blue fitted suit. "How's it going, Al?"
"I've gotten all the data I need and already have the skeleton of my paper. It should be done by today, so you can present it at the Education Council meeting two days from now," Albriech says, handing her the data slate to peruse.
Firis smiles and skims over the words, then hands it back. "It's excellently written, as always. And just after Liberator Day, too! Are you sure you don't want to present it yourself? There's a meeting of the Deep Sea Research Society this evening."
Albriech smiles in return, but shakes his head. While it was not official policy, fundementally advancement within the Administratum was tied to participation in the varied research societies that dot the social landscape of Slawkenberg. While he doesn't rebuke the members of those societies - Firis had gotten into her varied ones due to her fascination with animal life she had never seen before, for instance - the fact remains that he had other things he wanted to do, and without the fear of his father hanging above him he no longer had the drive to push himself that far.
Firis sighed at the conclusion to their well-worn argument. "What would you do if I get promoted out of here, then?"
"Quit, probably," Albriech responds, "I'm here because of you, after all." As matters stand, him having a personal office space and his current position was already more than he should have, Firis having spent much political capital to do so as 'thanks' for taking care of her when her drop pod crashed in front of him and for introducing her to this workplace after Pancea made her fit to work.
Firis turns her face away and pokes Albriech in the ribs with her toes. "Hmph. Then work hard, Al, I'll be back to collect you work later. So saying, she hops off the desk and sashays out of the tiny room. Albriech watches her leave and close the door, then gets back to his work.
The small temple to the God-Emperor operating in the capital's suburb was nowhere near the grandest Albriech has ever been to, either here prior to the Uprising or on his birth planet, but it felt closer to the Emperor's heart than any he had attended prior. Which is why he has been spending most of his evenings after work volunteering here. The church had survived by dint of also being the city's only orphanage cum soup kitchen, though two rounds of citywide rennovations meant it was now part of a decent neighbourhood rather than at the nexus of several lightless alleys. Slawkenberg had yet to develop any new solutions to orphans - a combination of the tendency of pre-Uprising ones to go missing and the low number of new ones post-Uprising so far - so none of the children have been moved out, except via adoption.
"Bat the greenie!" The little boys cheered as Albriech, wearing a cheap green mask, swooned and collapsed under the hits and fake gunfire of their padded sticks. One boy solemnly removes the mask from Albriech, places it on a pew close by and gathers his compatriots into a circle surrounding it. "And now... unleash the flamers!" The cacaphony of 'fwooosh' sounds makes Albriech chuckle from where he was still lying on his back.
"I apologise for the unruliness of our boys," Sister Sarah says, her melodic voice drifting down as she and Sister Amelia bends down to look at Albriech. How the pretty priestess avoided being taken by the unmissed former Ecclesiarchy was beyond him, but it seems the Emperor protects the faithful even here. "While I am always happy to see our flock grow, the Vallahallans do love to share some minor naughtiness as they leave." She glares at the children, who studiously ignore her as they continue with whatever orc-burning ritual they have been taught.
Sister Amelia offers Albriech a hand, which he uses to pull himself upright. "Thanks for playing along, bossman, they all heard those war stories from the Guardsmen and were raring to go. 'Course, none of them wanted to play fight with me, 'cos I'm a girl." His stepmother's former personal guard, whom his father selected as much as for eye candy as for combat skill, was a fervent believer denied the opportunity on their hive world, a fact he'd found out in the early days after the Uprising while they tried to make ends meet and grew closer together. When Albriech's stepmother and stepsister finally secured their own jobs, freeing the two of them from having to work three jobs each, Amelia had gone on to pursue her dreams of joining the reformed Ecclesiarchy, now far more open to accepting anyone able and willing to read the holy texts. She still kept to the nickname she gave him when he told her they should treat each other on equal grounds all the way back, even though she had moved to live in the temple full time.
The discussion is interupted by the doors of the church being flung open. An Administratum member, clearly highly ranked from his blue robes and large crescent headpiece, strides in, accompanied by a USA trooper in full armour. This formation was Slawkenberg's replacement for the Arbites, intended to fairly deal with civic issues rather than compel obedience by force. That said, this was a church of the God-Emperor; despite the Liberator's proclamation and support, many still treat the Ecclesiarchy as an underclass. "Is there a Albreich Drakkon here?" The administrator's voice rings out with a hint of contempt.
Albriech rises to his feet and walks forward, ignoring the Sisters' abortive attempt to shield him. The temple's existence was teneous enough without an administrator who would go out of his way to spite them, and Albriech was not going to make the orphans suffer for his sake. "I'm here." Even accounting for standard hive world issues, his genes and upbringing put him on level with the administrator's pointy hat, something the clerk clearly disliked. He sighed, knowing this was going to be harder. "What do you need me for?"
"Albreich Drakkon. Worked in two different factories and the Administratum, conveniently quitting the first two just as automation is implemented." Well, sure, Albriech thought. That was when his family got a free house and his stepsister her first job, letting him cut back on the killer schedule he had been on. "Not participate in a single research society, yet nonetheless be promoted to the position of senior data forecaster. And, of course, a regular volunteer and donor to this temple," the administrator spat out. Albriech felt this was definitely going somewhere wrong. "Do you, Albreich Drakkon, acknowledge that you are the referee for one Amberly Vail?" The administrator snarled.
Albriech blinked. "Amberly - oh, her. The lady who got her house demolished during the xenos attack? Yeah, she used to sing at the church, but she had the vibe of someone who wanted more. I recommended her to one of the singing houses nearby, though she didn't really keep in contact afterwards." She'd hardly be the first he knew who subtly cut ties to the temple after progressing up the ranks, though she'd taken awfully long to do so. "Why? Is she in trouble?"
"Oh, she very much is. You, Albreich Drakkon, has aided and abetted an enemy of the Liberator, not that I am surprised, you damn emperor-botherer. For attempted assault of the Liberator - " "Wait, she tried to kill the Liberator? That's not possible!" Albriech cuts the clerk off. "Everyone loves the Liberator. I helped the kids write the letters to send to him!"
The clerk reared up at the interruption but was stopped by an armoured hand resting on his shoulder. "Oh stop it already Heider, you're embarassing everyone." The USA trooper said in a feminie and surprisingly familiar voice. "He's three steps down the referee ladder, regularly hangs out with upstanding members of society and your only 'evidence' is that he likes going to church. Which, you know, is perfectly legal as decreed by the Liberator. Also, you just openly said a bunch of stuff you shouldn't to a whole crowd. So! Are you discriminating against him because of his beliefs, which I will note is illegal, or are you just mad Firis didn't give you the time of the day at the last Avian Research Society meetup?"
Heider sputtered, but Albriech had more important things on his mind. "Kantha?" The second of the three void dwellers he took in removed her helmet to reveal her face, her cheery smile exactly has he remembered it.
"Yep!" The ex-Navy said. "Greenskin activity is dying down, so I took the opportunity to transfer to a posting closer to home. Just my luck my first job is getting stuck with this idiot trying to abuse his authority."
"Your relationship with the accused stains your impartiality, trooper!" Heider manages a comeback. "The only thing you should be doing is arresting -"
"Oh, can it." Kantha's grip turns hard, and Albriech is sure he hears a crunch. "First, it's called a character witness. Second, I'm equal in authority with you. This setup's precisely so two colleagues can't buddy up and abuse their authority, and I'm definitely calling you out on that."
"Indeed." Yet another voice echoes through the church. A stunning woman strides in, clad in an imitation of the clothing of the Sisters, except far more revealing. Highheels clack on the floor as long, pale legs sway forth from large cuts in the ankle length purple tinted skirt. Where the rosary would normally be, instead a small wavy purple symbol rest at the edge of an open window. "I believe many people are interested in your fine theories regarding the brother of a Handmaiden," Bianca Drakkon lets the words drip through her perfect lips. "Why, imagine what would happen if you had actually taken him in! Oh, did your research not cover who he lives with? How embarassing."
There's a slight crackle from both Kantha and Heider. Kantha brightens up prettily, while Heider sinks. "Oh, very embarassing. Good thing I was here to stop it, eh? Good to see you after so long, Bia." Kantha says, as she firmly turns Heider around. "Don't worry, I'll get him to HQ in one piece. If he runs, well, I heard good things about the upper levels and their surveillance measures."
"Thank you very much, dear Kantha," Bianca smiles and nods. "I hope to see you tonight?" It's a far cry from how Bianca used to be aound the three, back when Albriech first took them in. It was rather selfish on his part, given their shaky financial status, but the magi biologis had ended up sponsoring things and... he didn't want to ignore the suffering of another, not like he used to. Still, he's relieved that Kantha is able to wave back with a "Seeya!" as she drags her temporary partner out of the church and closes the door.
"While we are grateful for what you have just done," Sister Sarah says with pursed lips, "I would like to once again remind you to dress appropriately here." She and Sister Amelia moves up forward, incidentally flanking Albriech. Although he knows better to say it out, the looks of annoyance on their faces were extremely cute.
"Oh, my, but if I wasn't dressed like this, how could I do... this?" Bianca sticks one hand down her dress's frontal window and another into the side slit of her skirt, and emerges with two bags of candies. Although the foodstuff was no longer rare on Slawkenberg, it still wasn't something the orphans could get regularly. Naturally, boys and girls who were hiding earlier all emerged at her call. "I heard there were a lot of good kids who were taking care of my brother so... catch!"
With the chaos unleashed, the two sisters were forced to run around togather up the children, giving Bianca a chance to slip in close and hug Albriech's arm. She presses her body tight against him and says out loud: "Thank you for taking care of my brother, but I reeeeaaaallly need him to go home with me. Do you mind if I take my brother home?"
The flummoxed expression on Amelia as the children cheefully waved him goodbye was a precious sight in and off itself, but Albriech thinks they would regret the betrayal next sermmon with Sarah. Nonetheless, it was somewhat close to his usual finish time, and given the recent close call he understood his stepsister wanted some reassurance, so he let her cling onto him and walk him back home. Walking together hand-in-hand, on the open, breezy streets of Cainopolis, past the cheerfully misproportioned houses and waving to the friendly neighbours - these were things they could never experience in Endlich, no matter how much money they had. Even though the trip to Slawkenberg was almost certainly an attempt by his father to forcefully clear the family roster, given that all of their guards bar Amelia had vanished the moment trouble reared it's head, he was glad for it.
After the double xenos attack, a more serious rebuilding was attempted. Whoever was in charge of this residential district had decided that while every block in the area was exactly nine stories tall, everything else was to be completely different. As such, the row houses sported different lengths and widths and were divided in strange ways. His family had secured a nice six-floor house that opened to ground level, while Firis, Kantha and Reislin shared the house comprising the three floors above. It wasn't quite double the size - the connecting wall to the next unit slanted such that the top floors were a little larger - but the Drakkons certainly had more room. Albriech and Bianca entered the house and immediately went to the topmost floor, where the combined kitchen and dining room were.
"Oh, darling!" Albriech's stepmother, Dianthea, shot forth from the kitchen to embrace him. She was dressed in a pink apron and brief enough cloting that he couldn't spot it before her hug. "I heard what that nasty man was planning to do. Bianca, dear, do tell me about it; I won't stand for anyone bullying our Albriech!" It was something he wouldn't have heard three years ago - back when Dianthea was desperately trying to bear a male heir for his father, and he was dreading the same. But those first few months of desperately working multiple jobs to feed her and Bianca had won their trust and affection, and now there was no one he was closer to.
Bianca, clinging onto him from the opposite side, dutifully recited what happened earlier, much to Dianthea's pleasure. "Oh thak goodness that girl showed up. We were going to surpise you with Kantha's return, you know, but I guess she gave you an extra pleasant surprise. But Albriech," she says, her face worried, "won't you consider quitting your job? All of us here know how wondeerful you are, and even the sisters do, but others don't." She pursed her lips. "I don't want to see you hurt just because you're too big-hearted to play by other's rules. We earn more than enough to support you, now. You could just stay at home and pamper us all day... and volunteer, I suppose."
That is absolutely true. While it had been difficult for them to find their feet, his stepmother and stepsister bounced back hard, and with their skills at climbing the social ladder back in Endlich were able to do the same here. Dianthea, unlike Bianca, stopped short of joining the Handmaidens on purpose, as she desired to always be back home in time to cook dinner for the family, a skill she acquired recently. Even so, her income eclipsed his greatly, let alone Bianca's. Nonetheless, he still wants to contribute, boith to the family and to Slawkenberg, so he shakes his head and whispers a quick "not yet." His family lets go of him with a faint smile and return to the kitchen, and he follows.
"Greetings. Does not require aid except from Dianthea currently; please rest yourself for the meal." Reislin was the third member of the drop pod that Albriech had found after the abortive Exterminatus. The cannon operator had grown fascinated with the borgs during her rehablitation and, much to the surprise of anyone who knew about tech-priests, was accepted into their ranks. Aside from her four mechanical arms coming from her otherwise bare back, which were handling much of the cooking with ease, she had no other visible augmentations, and much like Firis the Panacea treatment had filled her out quite nicely. It was surprising that she was here, given the odd hours the magos biologis kept, but he supposed everyone must have lined things up specifically to make sure they could celebrate tonight. Reislin turned around, revealing the grey apron she wore that, like Dianthea's, strategically masked the rest of her clothing, making her appear to be wearing nothing else. "Shoo, shoo," she says with a smile. Ruefully, Albriech retreated, along with Bianca, to their rooms on the lower floors to change.
Later on, as Kantha and Firis return home themselves and the private party begins, Albriech sends a prayer of thanks to the God-Emperor and the Liberator, for giving him this opportunity, and swears to always do his best for those around him, just like they do.