Chapter VI: Welcome to Earth Politics
Imperial Core, Imperatoria Sector, Planet Earth
Malik Najibullah
He groaned in annoyance, for the morning had started so perfectly. He had watched the sunrise from the balcony of his grandiose apartment. It was one of the best things about owning an apartment on the top level of Earth’s cityscape. He had a fantastic breakfast of eggs and steak with gravy and mushrooms, cheese and broccoli soup, and hot chocolate milk. He had enjoyed some carnal pleasure with his wife and then with his mistress on his way to Adeptum Praxia. While his duties as a member of High Command had brought him here for a decade, it was now different. With his new title came new responsibilities and those had brought him to the situation he now faced.
“Consul Najibullah?” His secretary asked over the commlink.
“Let him enter,” Najibullah said with a sigh.
“Right away, sir,” the young man replied.
The man that entered wore a long obsidian coat with his pale head completely shaved and grey eyes. A mechanical augmentation was visible on his left temple. His beady eyes glanced around his office as he approached the desk. He paused and studied one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls.
“You have an impressive collection, Consul Najibullah.”
“Yes, well…” he cleared his throat. “…some of it is just to fill up space. More for looks than anything.”
The man leaned closer and grabbed a book from a shelf. “Hamsters. Hmm, yes. I see.” He placed it back in its spot and shifted his feet to walk the short distance to the desk. Najibullah had risen behind it. He then greeted him by raising his forearm to his chest in a gesture of respect, a gesture that the pale man did not return – suggesting that he was the superior of a Consul. Najibullah visibly grimaces at the insult. The man paid that no mind.
“I suppose congratulations are in order. It’s an impressive move from Executor General to Consul.” His voice flowed with disinterest.
“It’s only one rank, High Inquisitor,” Najibullah pointed out.
“But most elected to head of High Command come from the naval branch,” the High Inquisitor pointed out. “Historically you’re one of the few lucky jarheads. It makes sense though, doesn’t it? Void combat is far more important in war then ground combat after all. If you lose your fleet you lose the war.”
Unwilling to discuss doctrine and strategy with the High Inquisitor he said, “What brought a high ranking member of the Inquisition to my office this early in the day?”
“Are you familiar with the campaign soon to be undertaken by the Daughters of Mara, Imperial Hand, and Death Wolves?” The High Inquisitor inquired.
The Death Wolves had recently ended a year-long campaign to cleanse an Urruk empire in the Southern Dependencies. “Am I, as head of High Command and before that a member of High Command, familiar with a massive undertaking against a hostile empire?” He folded his arms over his chest.
“I take that as a yes,” said the High Inquisitor.
“High Command handles much of the details. Such as sending in the necessary millions of military personnel to garrison these worlds, to serve in support roles, to begin bringing them up to the standard of Imperial worlds once taken.” The campaign was expected to be fierce and brutal since they faced an alien civilization that was known for their warrior culture and military mastery. While the victory was certain, it would likely bring high casualties and significant losses of materiel and ships.
“The Inquisition is concerned about these Legions distrust of the Inquisition,” he explained.
Najibullah managed to avoid snorting. “Archon Ares’s Daughters of Mara have several Inquisitors in their Legion. Archon Ibeji’s Imperial Hands hand a handful – last a looked.”
“One. And Neith is continuously refusing to have any Inquisitorial presence near her Legion. Frankly, this generational insult cannot continue. No doubt she’s influenced Ibeji to keep no more then one,” the High Inquisitor remarked.
“First, Archon Neith,” Najibullah corrected. He wouldn’t have an archon’s name spoken with disrespect in his presence. “Second, the day Ibeji takes a cue for her is the day Archon Apis becomes a diplomat.”
“The decision of placing Inquisitors on Legionary fleets should not fall to Archons. That is an Inquisitorial decision. We know where our presence is required.”
“The Archons disagree. All twenty-two of them.”
“Her Majesty does not,” the man claimed.
“Her Imperial Majesty decreed that the Inquisition can place its agents and Inquisitors in planetary governments, fleets, armies, and bases,” He agreed. “However, she has always, since the dawn of the Galactic Imperium eight centuries ago, that her children hold the necessary authority over their legion’s to decide themselves. That does, of course, included the Imperial Blades who stand Archon-less.”
“It is felt, strongly so, by the Grand Inquisitor and my fellow High Inquisitors that the legions hold too much power to lack our oversight.”
Najibullah laughed and the man furrowed his brow.
“If your organization expects the legions to rebel-”
“It wouldn’t be unprecedented,” the High Inquisitor said in a hard, low voice through lips pressed together. Then he smiled smugly. “Last I checked the original number of legions was twenty-four. Mathematics was never my thing but if there are twenty-three now…”
“It has only happened ones in eight-hundred years,” Najibullah snapped, embarrassed to have been caught by the man so firmly. The claim that was main by the man angered him.
“And we must make sure that it doesn’t happen again,” the man pressed. “If one Archon can turn they all can.”
Najibullah took a deep breath. “What you’re suggesting is treasonous, High Inquisitor.”
The man scoffed. “What I suggest is practicality. Precautions in case the worst would ever occur.” He locked his fingers together behind his back and turned around, away from Najibullah. “Do you think we want a legion to rebel?”
A part of Najibullah did, but the Inquisition were only doing their duty in the end. The fact that they were overzealous about it was a different matter.
“Isn’t there anyone among you that think it’s paranoid to expect a legion…a second legion, to turn traitor?”
The man looked toward the windows. “There’s an old saying. Just because you’re is paranoid that people are out to get you, doesn’t mean that someone isn’t out to get you.” Before Najibullah spoke he continued by adding, “The Inquisition has solved thousands of matters over our history. From dangerous murdering cults to corrupt government officials that hinder the running of the Imperium.”
“And the government is grateful for it, as we are for Empress Mara for founding your organization.” He kept his frustration out of his voice.
He wondered if this was all true about the certain Archons refusing to have Inquisitors serving with their legions. Neither his nor this man’s great-great-grandfather had been born by the time Archon Neith refused Inquisitors aboard any ship in her fleet nor had anything new been done by the Archons to convince the Inquisition that this was the time to act to press against the Archons authority – depending on who you asked: their divine authority. He seemed more likely that the grumblings were directed at the organization Empress Mara recently created. The new government branch, the Political Bureau. They handled priority investigations, matters of loyalty, and morale related inquiries. These matters had before belonged to the Inquisition. Was the Inquisition sulking for they had lost some of their broad duties? He was amused by the thought.
“Maybe the Grand Inquisitor should bring the matter up to the empress again? I’m sure it’ll work this time.”
The High Inquisitor spun around and glared at him. It had been am an embarrassment, and great amusement when her Majesty had listened to the Master of the Inquisition’s complaints before she told the Inquisition to stop pouting and do their duties. Then she dismissed him from the chamber and the members that made up the High Conclave continued with the Inquisition’s presence. The Grand Inquisitor had left the chamber like a child sent to bed early. The High Inquisitor’s eyes sparked with blue psychic energy and Najibullah thought that he was about to be executed and he pushed back in his chair with fear in his eyes. Then the spark dissipated and the High Inquisitor got a hold of himself.
“I see that your mind is too rigid to consider any new viewpoint. Good day.” He then left his office.
As was so common for High Inquisitors, he hadn’t given his name and didn’t use his rank when addressing him. His heartbeat fast and he tried to calm himself. He had been so close to execution. He, one of the most powerful mortals in the entire Imperium, had always been killed outright. Thankfully the man had gained control of himself, but the fact that a leading member of the Inquisition momentarily lost control scared him. It made him wonder if Empress Mara in her godly knowledge created the Politics Bureau as a first step to disempower the Inquisition, or mayhaps she sought to limit their power in her empire.
“VI,” he said.
“Yes, Consul,” the Virtual Intelligence responded. It was a lesser version of the Adjutant AI’s that every starship in the Imperial Navy was equipped with. Unlike an AI it was not true intelligence. “Scan the security camera’s of the building to identify the High Inquisitor.”
“Scanning. He does not exist in the database.”
“None of them?”
“Negative.”
Of course not. He wasn’t surprised that there were no files concerning the Inquisition’s members. Especial leading members. They were frustratingly secretive.
“Have my secretary picked out a bottle from my wine storage and come in here. Make it one of the eighteenth millennium ninety-two vintage.”
“Affirmative, Consul.”
As his secretary, a young woman in her early forties poured up a glass for him he remarked, “That is a very good vintage, you know.”
“Yes, Consul. I don’t know much about wines I’m afraid,” she answered.
“It was made in the early decades of the thousand year-lived Galactic Commonwealth. Well, the First Galactic Commonwealth I suppose. Since there that great power in the galactic west calls itself the Second. It was a good vintage. Those days of innocence.”
“Of course, sir.”
For a moment, he glanced at her ample bosom. “Do you know why the Commonwealth fell, and why this Second version of it will fall as well?”
“I have no idea,” she said politely.
“Democracy is a noble concept,” he explained to her. “But it is inherently weak. The larger the democracy the longer it takes, electing the leader of the Commonwealth, sector officials, planetary officials, and regional officials all the way down to town mayors. It is the right of every Imperial world to elect its own world’s senate and planetary governor, but the empress understands that above that comes to the problems if it’s allowed to carry on too high.” He rambled on with, “That’s why the planetary governor appoints each world’s senator in the Sectorial Senatorium. Every sector, one-thousand senators roughly, is a small enough group to elect a Sectorial Governor between them, you see? Selective democracy to ensure that there is no stagnation in the system and no corruption.”
He paused to drink when his mouth felt suddenly dry.
“It is unfortunate that people like the Commonwealth doesn’t understand how truly strong our government is,” the woman said sincerely.
“It is that.” He waved a finger in her direction and sipped emptied his glass in one swoop. She moved to refill it. “Every SEC-GOV sits on the Region Senatorium and serve under the guidance of the region’s Proconsul.”
He almost emptied the glass immediately to quench the dry feeling in his mouth. She gave him a refill as she listened to his ramblings.
“A democracy only works when everyone puts the people and state’s betterment before their own,” he continued, assuming that she listened with interest and not just because she worked for him. “Democracy has very little defense against corruption you see. Passing legislation is slow with so many having a say in the matter. The empress has crafted a system that doesn’t take ages to pass important legislation. Since people only get a few years in office they can find their successor reversing everything after them. A good example is the Commonwealth’s Chancellor. He’s got a ten-year term. I suspect its ten years because the Commonwealth in truth agrees with that criticism.”
He paused when he felt a growing pain in his lungs and heart. He breathed slowly and deeply to offset it. “Sudden…sudden changes in political views can lead to…” he could barely breathe through the pain and pain spread through his body and his hands began to tremble.
“Are you okay, Consul?” His secretary placed a hand on his arm and kneeled beside his chair. “Consul?” He tried to speak but couldn’t get a single word out. “VI, medical emergency! The Consul needs help!”
“Calling for aid,” the VI’s synthesized feminine voice acknowledged.
His entire body ached and he fell forward onto his desk and then to the floor, or would have if his secretary had not caught him. She held his carefully and shouted his rank with increasing panic. He lost track of time and his vision blurred. He saw several individuals before him. Then he saw the ceiling move above him and shouting of figures in pale blue garments. Next, he knew he blinked and felt no pain ravaging his body. He stared up at a white ceiling and realized that he was lying in a bed with medical devices around him. Where was he? A hospital? He began to sit up on his elbows and a doctor arrived then. She was an elder woman around the same around as him, her late-sixties. She had her grey hair pulled back in a short ponytail and garbed in a white medical coat.
“Hello, Consul Najibullah. I’m Doctor Ivanovna. The VI monitoring you said that you were awake,” she said.
“Wh-where, am I?”
“You’re at Saint Birgitta’s Hospital.” She looked at his reading on one of the monitors he was connected to. “You were brought here from your office in the Adeptum Praxia Fortress.” He came up to his bed and sat down on a chair. She looked into his eyes. “This won’t be easy to hear, but I’m afraid you were poisoned.”
His eyes widened. “I was…what?”
“Poisoned. Yes, sir,” she confirmed.
“I…thank you then. For saving my life,” he said full-heartedly.
“I’m afraid you’re just lucky. The poison’s components were poorly administered.”
“Would I otherwise…”
“Yes.” She glanced at the room’s doorway. “There is an Inquisitor here. Been here for a few hours now. He’s asked to speak with you when you wake up.” He laid back down upon hearing that, cursing mentally. “Normally he’d have every right to question a patient after an event like this, but of course being a Consul the matter is legally yours. Do you want to speak with him or should we send him away?”
As he looked to the open doorway he grimaced men in white body armor suits outside. He quickly identified them as SSS. The State Security Service provided security for government officials in the Imperium.
“I…will speak with him.”
“I’ll send him in then.” Doctor Ivanovna smiled warmly and strode out. His eyes followed her rear as she did so.
Soon the Inquisitor walked in, garbed in a long black coat and his face adorned with mighty auburn sideburns and a thick walrus mustache. He inclined his head in respect.
“I thank you for seeing me, Consul Najibullah. The Inquisition tasked me with interviewing you after word arrived that you’d been poisoned,” he explained in a heavy Scottish accent.
“Do you…have a name or…are you too high and mighty to give it to me, boy?” He sneered.
To his credit, the man didn’t seem at all offended. “I am Inquisitor Maramond Oldenburg. I meant no offense. I had the wine you drank tested and it was from it that the poison came from.”
“How…how did someone poison my wine?” it had been locked safely in his wine storage for years. Had the High Inquisitor poisoned it? How had gotten to it? He must then have expected no support in the matter they discussed.
“I’ve spent several hours questioning your employees around you and I am confident that none of them are responsible. With one exception.”
He furrowed his brow. “Who?”
“Your secretary, Ms. Linda Stockman. She disappeared after she was questioned,” Inquisitor Oldenburg explained. Earth’s law enforcement is searching for her, but I’m not sure if she’ll be found. Her apartment was cleaned out completely. Not even a single piece of DNA found anywhere.”
“She…she worked for me since I became Consul. Worked for twenty years for the previous one.” How was this possible?
“So her records read, yes.” Oldenburg nodded. “There’s nothing unusual in her records. Nothing strange there, since you’re unlikely to get work in the government if you have a questionable history. Did you ever notice anything off about her?”
“No. Never.” He barely paid attention to her. After all, she was just a lowly secretary. His mind raced with the information. Who would have wanted him dead? Mayhaps someone that fought themselves a better Consul. Someone with a different outlook on the Imperium then him perhaps?
Oldenburg nodded understandingly. “Maybe it’s a welcome to internal Earth politics?” He joked.
Najibullah found that it hurt to laugh. Politics here on the Throneworld could certainly be brutal and he wouldn’t be the first casualty of the brutal world of the Imperium’s elite. That even made him question if they really did try to kill him or if it was just a threat and that the poison was intentionally mixed to avoid killing him. Empress, he missed being an office serving on the frontier worlds in the Fringe Territories. 410Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpgq6QjXY5H
