Chapter 214: Plan of Action |
"Because they have always believed themselves to be irreplaceable, ever since the Emperor launched the Great Crusade, right up until now."
Navradaran offered his assessment:
"They do not consider the future. Tax exemption provided them with the capital for extravagance, but as taxation resumes, the Nobles remain extravagant. It simply means that the Planet's underclass will once again be bled dry, just as they were in the past."
"They are one of the few social classes capable of living with relative impunity."
Romulus nodded.
Managing the administrative affairs of a single Planet was still within the realm of human capability. This meant that as long as planetary governors could guarantee the payment of the tithe, they could enjoy a relatively comfortable existence.
And guaranteeing that payment was not difficult, so long as one was willing to cast aside their humanity.
Romulus lightly tapped his fingertips against the Data-slate. The Holographic Projection continuously scrolled through the tax records and suppression reports of various worlds. Behind those numbers lay countless drained Souls and withered hopes.
"The greatest irony of the Imperium's taxation system lies exactly here."
"It effectively encourages rulers to become the most vile of tyrants."
He gulped down a few mouthfuls of water, relying on the slight sweetness from the fruit's sugars to bring a trace of relaxation to his mind before finally catching his breath.
"I really do not know how Master Arthur managed to hold back from slaughtering these Nobles. If it were me, I absolutely could not stand it."
He was in charge of grassroots inspections and the propagation of dogma. He could only say that it truly lived up to being a galactic Imperium; no matter how inhuman a situation was, you could find it within the Imperium.
"I cannot stand it either, but simply butchering people will not solve much beyond causing chaos."
Romulus continuously sorted through the data. He nodded, acknowledging Karna's words, and handed him a file.
"Take a look at this if you are interested."
"Huh?"
Karna looked slightly confused as he reached out and took the file.
Before the main forces of the Expeditionary Fleet set sail, Arthur had already led a detachment of Dark Angels into the Dawn Sector.
There, they discovered massive weapon stockpiles supplied by the Adeptus Mechanicus across various Planets, physically augmented mercenaries, and resistance pacts forged with the Nobles of the Sector.
The purpose behind this was clear: when the Primarch attempted to strip away the privileges the Emperor had supposedly bestowed upon His 'great' subjects, they intended to rely on military force to fight for their power.
This was exactly why Romulus did not plan on implementing drastic, sweeping reforms.
To actually fight a civil war over this would inflict far too severe a wound on the Sector's interior.
However, armed with sufficient intelligence, Romulus could employ a far more efficient approach.
"We need to sever the Imperial Nobles' connection with the lower classes before they can react, and then wipe the Nobles out in one swift strike. This will prevent them from having any opportunity to incite the populace, allowing us to maximize the preservation of the Sector's population and reduce the intensity of the war."
Prioritize dealing with external threats, lull the Sector's Nobles into a false sense of security, promote the Imperial Cult to grasp the grassroots situation, use Mortal agents to infiltrate the upper echelons of the Imperial nobility, and then rely on the mighty Fighting Force of the Adeptus Astartes to launch a concentrated strike before finally taking over the governance of each Planet.
That was the general train of thought, and the plan was already nearing perfection.
He could only count himself fortunate to have the Dark Angels at his disposal—a Fighting Force that excelled in covert administrative operations just as much as they did in warfare. It made formulating his plans much more effortless.
"Excellent."
Karna rubbed his hands together.
"Are we wiping them all out?"
For once, he harbored a rare and unusual enthusiasm for bloodshed.
"Every last one."
Romulus nodded. This was his territory. If he could not even be heavy-handed here, how could he ever dream of overthrowing the original Imperium and restoring order to the Galaxy in the future?
"Both the Imperium's system and its personnel are fundamentally flawed. The vast majority are useless to us."
Even the Imperial Cult was something the Transmigrators only used while pinching their noses in disgust. If one wanted to talk about advancement, how advanced could an institution that retained barbaric customs like human sacrifice possibly be? Had Karna not struck gold by sheer luck, their religious reforms would have been completely blind.
After all, Old Man Huang was objectively a god, and the citizens of the Imperium suffered too greatly. They could only rely on religion to maintain that faint glimmer of hope in their hearts.
As for attempting to enact change without the cheats possessed by the Transmigrators?
What if a ruler with even a shred of conscience wanted to develop their world and improve the livelihood of the people?
They would quickly find themselves trapped in an impossible dilemma. Either the Adeptus Arbites would ruthlessly enforce excessive taxation based on the Planet's newfound prosperity, sparking a civilian uprising, or they would draw the scrutiny of an Inquisitor for supposed heresy.
The projection shifted to footage of the Damocles Gulf.
There once existed an alliance of Nobles there who attempted to implement reforms. They built orbital factories, improved agricultural technologies, developed trade, and even established a system of compulsory education.
But after a sudden and exorbitant tithe increase, the economy of the entire Sector collapsed. Factories shut down, farmlands lay barren, and eventually, a massive rebellion swept across twelve star systems.
As for the other faction, their fate was well known to everyone. They had been bombarded by the Imperial Navy under the orders of an Inquisitor. If not for the Expeditionary Fleet, they would have perished long ago.
"If you are truly devoid of humanity,"
Romulus traced his finger across another set of data. This was a report on a famous 'Model Tithe World' within the Dawn Sector, a strong contender for the Sector's capital.
"You dedicate ninety percent of your resources to maintaining your tithing capacity, leaving the populace in a perpetual state of just barely avoiding mass starvation."
The visual shifted to the Underhive of that world.
Here, laborers lived in factory districts eternally shrouded in toxic smog. Their average life expectancy did not exceed thirty years. Almost as soon as the children of a family were old enough to take on manual labor, the breadwinners of the household would inevitably collapse.
Fifteen-year-old youths would shoulder the heavy debts of their deceased fathers and throw themselves into the workforce. Then, afflicted by occupational diseases, they would accrue a new medical debt for their own descendants within the next ten years.
Through this method, they indeed managed to 'efficiently' maintain the production quotas for a specific industrial coating required by the Imperium.
"Then not only will you safely survive your tenure,"
Navradaran finished the thought, his eyes carrying a deep sorrow for the loss of life. "You might even receive commendations from Terra."
Hearing such grim words from a native of this universe was simply too morbid.
Romulus turned off the projection. Under the bright lights, his expression appeared exceptionally stony.
"This system is diseased. It rewards tyranny and punishes reform. It forces the rulers of every world to face the exact same choice: either wallow in the mire with the rest, or be ground into dust."
A brief silence fell over the cabin.
"It is time to rewrite that equation."
Romulus finally spoke. His voice was soft, yet it seemed to freeze the surrounding air.
Realistically speaking, given the current state of the Galaxy, it was naturally impossible for him to completely eradicate the existence of the Nobles.
However, aside from the very few factions the Imperium could actually rely on—such as the Imperial Knights, the Imperial Navy, and other 'military aristocracy'—Romulus had no desire to see such a privileged class entrenched within the administrative system.
If the populace of the Imperium as a whole lived in Dire Straits due to the sheer nature of the Imperial system, then the people of a single Planet living in Dire Straits was purely the fault of its planetary governor.
One only needed to look back at the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period in Terra's ancient history for reference.
Local autonomy bred far too many deranged despots. If you threw a cannibalistic monster like Zhu Can in there, he would not even cause a ripple.
Truth be told, ever since arriving in this world forty thousand years in the future, Romulus had spent most of his time feeling utterly disappointed.
It was hard to imagine witnessing such backwardness, ignorance, and corruption within a galactic empire.
"Rameses."
Romulus opened a private communication channel, contacting a certain capitalist who spent every waking moment submerged in the Warp.
"Yeah, what is up?"
Rameses, who was currently inspecting the Enclave and relying on Warp-based methods to assist Arthur's operations, answered the call.
"Is your Astropathic Communication administrative system template finished yet?"
For the Imperium, the greatest obstacle to centralization was the agonizing delay in communication. Imperial authority literally could not reach the remote countryside.
If Romulus wanted to change this, he had to invent a far more efficient method of interstellar transmission.
Fortunately, this was hardly a difficult task for the Wings of Dawn.
"Almost done. The Aeldari still need a bit more time to finalize the adaptations,"
Rameses replied after glancing at the progress of the Aeldari workers.
Many Farseers had been dispatched recently, leading to a slight drop in productivity. As for the Exodite Aeldari they had plucked from the Maiden Worlds, they were a bunch of complete illiterates. They knew absolutely nothing but how to fight, and they learned far slower than he did.
If it were not for their decent attitudes and the fact that they could be used to pilot the Wraith-series war machines, Rameses would have gladly returned them to the World Soul for a refund.
"How are the results so far?"
Romulus pressed briefly.
"The encrypted protocol channels for the Dark Angels just passed testing."
Rameses checked the usage archives from the Conclave of the Five Points.
"Right now, a trained scribe can transmit an edict from the Sector capital to the most remote mining world within three minutes. Of course, that is assuming we have our own people stationed there, and it puts immense strain on the Psykers."
"Why? Are you planning to make a move before you have even secured the capital?"
he asked curiously.
"It never hurts to be prepared. I will let you get back to work."
Romulus sighed softly, terminating the comm-link. He looked down at the Cardinal World of Astorgius below.
Through the observation viewport, the terminator line of Astorgius was slowly shifting. The lights along the Hive City spires illuminated sequentially, glittering like stars.
Beneath those lights dwelled billions of lives, existing in a world whose true nature remained to be seen.
He could only hope that this Planet would leave him feeling at least slightly satisfied.