For the people, for freedom!

"Freedom for most people is something sacred, and many have been willing to sacrifice their lives for it. It is not just another word, for we measure the health of our democracies by the standard of freedom" -  Ancient Earth Politician.

Seren ran her finger along the tablet, whispering the names slowly as she read. The Laandsrat had been expanded and the factions, whether they were corporate, nobles or militaries were empowered more than ever before. Never in the recent history of Araxes had the position and inalienable rights of the individual been as weak. She glanced silently out of the view port of the Persephone, her eyes surveying the majestic towers and structures of the city until her eyes reached the Council Chambers. Democracy and freedom. They'd been the bywords of civilised society for the ancients but had been trampled underfoot by the corporations who had seized power of the people. Society had collapsed back into a feudal system - a system of aristocrats and great houses, giant corporate entities, vast religious doctrines that covered thousands of worlds, colossal military forces, all of whom sought to control the spice, to enslave the peoples of the Imperium to their causes, to fool them into believing their way was the only way whilst trampling the very same people underfoot.

Outsiders had come. The Alliance. They were as bad as the Imperium. They didn't tell you what to think, they told you how to think. Their society presented itself as clean, pure, enlightened. They were nothing of the sort. The Independents on the fringe told a different story. They'd lost the Unification War. They called themselves Browncoats and they strove for the very freedoms dreamt of for the Imperium. So many had died for the cause and lost. So many. On Miranda and elsewhere.

The Shrouded Stranger

Elena Galewind stood on the Splintered Rock landing platform looking out towards the dune sea. The horizon seemed to have moved and where the sky would normally have touched the ground, a vast dusty orange cloud crept along with a menacing procession of murky waves. Dust storms were not unusual on Araxes. The dry air, wind and vast expanse of sand lent itself to the phenomenon. The desert-borns, she knew, would be holed up in their seeqs.  Air traffic would be temporarily suspended, the people in the city told to go indoors, to fasten up their homes as the storm approached. It would pass and the people would return to whatever they were fixated on before. The klaxon had yet to sound so she stood and admired the beauty of it, using her staff as a measuring tool, calculating its trajectory, height and ferocity.

She was lost in thought, her mind imbued with the calculations. She didn't detect the dark, draped and cloaked stranger who emerged behind her.

"Greetings."

Startled, she turned round, suddenly thankful for the staff in her hand. She adopted the defensive pose without thinking.  In a blink of an eye, her thought processes sprung back to life,  assessing the danger. Cloaked, masked, male, no visible weaponry, a piercing red light emitted from a mechanical eye.


Elena straightened, her hand still grasping the staff tightly should she have to use it. "Greetings to you, sir."
"What is that pole you're holding" he asked, examining it closely.
"A ceremonial air staff, it is issued to many of my Order. A primarily defensive weapon."
"And what is your Order?"
Elena pondered the question, tried to foresee the different paths the conversation could take depending on her answer and the motives of the individual.
"You're a curious one", she said finally, "I suppose it does no harm to tell. I am an Adept of the Cognitive-Mentis Order. What are you?"
"I, I am but a soldier. Please, tell me more of your Order, enlighten me."

Again, she pondered the question. She harboured suspicions that he was more than just a soldier. Certainly, her Order was hardly a secret but the universe was a changed place. The Concordat was vast and it's borders touched the realms of others with increasing frequency. She chose the careful approach - "I fear you would find it a rather uninteresting story. Certainly combat is not one of our finer points although some come to the Order later in life having honed their skill in other areas."

The stranger spoke again, his voice slightly muffled by the dark cloth mask around his face - "I study more than just combat. As the ages passed, I have studied many things and harnessed many things".

An esoteric response in kind, she thought.

"I can tell from your attire", she began, "that you have an eclectic history. You do not appear to be the standard soldier common to these parts."

"Well analysed.". A curt response.

"What am I to make of the eyepiece?". She sought information upon which to make a hypothesis. The stranger was being vague. Perhaps the eyepiece will put me on the right path.

"Ancient technology. A memorable device."

Memorable or memory. She didn't hear above the growing winds. "Interesting", she asked, "I presume by the name it records what you see?"

"That's one of its features. It also displays a radar from the results of various scans. Sound, sight, infra-red, satellite."

The information was good but still too vague. She couldn't pinpoint a specific technology, race or planet.

"A useful device to have....why do you hide your face? To protect you from the sand or to protect your identity?"

"Let's just say it's for the sand."

"Understood". She accepted his abstruse nature for now, the wind was whipping up and the sand was starting  to gently peck her face.

He gestured to her staff - "You talked about your staff. What exactly can it do?"

"As I said, it's a primarily defensive weapon. It can project a super-concentrated burst of air to disorientate an opponent. Failing that, it makes a useful melee weapon."

"How does it work? Technological or.....other alternatives?"

Finally, she thought, I detect the person behind the mask. Alternatives to technology mean a belief in mythical or fantastical powers. Elena replied "Technological. We are a scientific people not beholden to the wild superstitions of others, like the Sinisterhood."

Elena noticed the man stiffen. Agitated perhaps. "Through my years, I have studied both. And I can tell you such things are far more than superstitions. Superstitions do not destroy armies."

A simple claim to rebuke, she thought. Scientific, logical thought would prevail. "That rather depends on the army. A primitive race of spear throwers would tremble in fear at 'Gods' with laserguns."

"You lack realisation.".

A firm and strong rebuttal implying she lacked the knowledge to comprehend the matter at hand. Something she was unaccustomed to. She raised an eyebrow but was interrupted before she could respond in kind.

"I have learnt of a true power", he intoned, "greater than any other."

"Tell, what is this power? Can it be studied in a laboratory?". She heard the scorn in her own voice.

"It can only be studied through experience. I do not know of it's word in our tongue."

Damnation, this man has a propensity to be utterly unfathomable. 

"You will learn one day." he said before turning away and striding away across the platform as mysteriously as he had arrived. Elena held her hand up to her face, protecting it from the sand which peppered her skin like tiny fragments of glass. You leave on a riddle.....a disconcerting fact to be true...but I'm rather good at solving them. 






[Featuring "Gordon Freeman"]

Seren and the Sardar

Delegate Undercroft's first encounter with the His Grace, Sardar Kumar Sri Rai Sahib Khanzadeh, the 633rd in line to the Imperial Lion Throne had been thoroughly unexpected. She had been walking through the citadel on the Rock to cast her eyes over new office premises for the PTC and had wandered in, quite by accident, on the Margrave Princely Count's chamber.

She'd frozen and for a few moments completely lost the ability to communicate in any meaningful way. Had she have chosen a first meeting with His Grace, it wouldn't have been after barging into his office. After what seemed an eternity, she regained her composure and apologised to His Grace for intruding in such a manner. She planned to make a dash there and then - perhaps he hadn't recognised her, why would he? - but it turned out that, yes, in fact he had.

He accepted her apology, explained that he had been lost in thought and apparently hadn't even seen the copper-haired young woman enter the room until she'd spoken.

"You are one of those democratic people aren't you? Populist....I can't think of the correct word?"
"Elected, your grace?"
"That's the word!"

Seren hastily tried to remember the correct protocol expected when in the presence of an Imperial figure and His Grace sensed her awkwardness. "No Curtsying or bowing, just avoid direct eye contact." She quickly diverted her eyes to the floor. She rather enjoyed her head on her shoulders and wouldn't want to lose it for such a minor intransigence. Actually, she wasn't sure what the punishment was but decided she didn't want to find out.

"I'm Delegate Undercroft of the Beit Dawla, your grace."
"I'm sure it's a pleasure to meet you" said the Margrave Princely Count in as regal a manner you might imagine, "I've lost track of the fellow who handles my appointments. I sent him off on an errand to donate my bathwater."
"I'm sure the great unwashed will be thankful" Oh, you sycophant.
 "What do you want Delegate? I'd offer you a chair but I've discovered they don't work. This planet is built for damnation!"

Seren laughed nervously - it was genuinely funny but she was unsure if she was allowed to laugh in his presence. Galewind hadn't gone through this with her during her pre-election training. His Grace looked at her oddly, as if making a mental note of something.

"Are you here for official business or is this a social call?"
 "In truth, " Seren confessed, "I didn't expect to find you here your grace but since I am here, may I enquire about the investigation into the Ta'Seti invasion?"
"It's not so much an investigation - I am looking at the feasibility of a planetary defence force. The local factionalized militaries act like disorganised militia.", he paused and made a direct point, "Said planetary defence force would be bound by the authority of the local governing body of course. The forms must be obeyed! The Imperium might ask for the occasional enforcement of a warrant, all according to the forms."

"I've heard rumours that you'd met with the USD leadership?"
"It is true", His Grace exclaimed, "They are usually on hand during any untoward invasion. Unlike the proper invasions where you have acts of parliament and formal declarations of war."
Seren nodded in agreement, "Indeed, their recent actions in defending the planet are worthy of our thanks and praise.....", she paused before continuing, "it seems people's fear of the Imperium is diminishing and attacks are becoming more common."
His Grace seemed to become stern "The Imperium's objective is to continue this experiment of limited autonomy...the factionalized militaries cause some difficulties. If the Imperium mobilises here, self rule will evaporate."

The words seemed to linger on the air. If the Imperium mobilises here, self rule will evaporate.

He continued, "The Imperial servants have done an admirable job but this is a glaring embarrassment. The Chief Magistrate cannot even prevent members of her own council from from raising arms against the local infrastructure. Adjunct Lieutenant Werribee's experiment in deregulating spice prospecting has increased production but also increased vulnerability."

Seren wasn't sure what His Grace meant in reference to the Magistrate, so she took a guess.

"There are certain elements on the Laandsrat who seem to have a conflict of interest, yes. The Myrmidons have sworn allegiance to the Emperor but seem to do nothing to prevent attack by their allies, the Ta'Seti.".
 

"We have developed a simple method to determine when the Myrmidons are making erroneous statements" declared His Grace, "...they speak." He continued with an air of aloofness. "If not them, it will be someone else. Barbarians making undeclared wars. It is unseemly."

"The government is doing everything in its power to avoid hostilities your grace. We want to avoid martial law if at all possible."

"I would hope you would not need to declare martial law. The planetary defence force should be subordinate to the local governing body. It would be on you to ensure oversight"

"With your permission, I will raise the issue at the next available Beit Dawla meeting, your grace."

"Of course, it would be of great convenience. I have not had the pleasure of reacquainting with the Chief Magistrate. I am told she is back from the....". His Grace seemed to hesitate before completing the sentence, turning to her with a regal twist of the head and emphasising the word,".....spa."

Seren nodded. Curious.

"As it is", he continued, " you should feel free to contact me anytime with news. My door would always be open if I were to have one.". His Grace was perturbed as he looked at the gaping hole where any person could just wander in off the street, "How do they live like this? It's madness! Nice views though"

Seren nodded again. She felt she'd been doing a lot of that during the conversation. "Thank you your grace. I'm not quite sure about the absence of doors myself. Perhaps the locals haven't worked out how to open them yet?" Perhaps the locals haven't worked out how to open them yet??!! Applaud yourself Seren - the condescending award of the year is going home with you!

To Seren's relief, her communicator headset clicked into life. She was needed urgently to sign some documents at the council chamber. "My apologies, your grace, I'm being called away. Please do enjoy your stay on our humble world."

It took quite a while for the the delegate to remove her head from her hands as she replayed the event over and over in her head. It hadn't been the ideal way to meet His Grace but perhaps it hadn't been as bad as she'd imagined. She'd almost inadvertently called on the planet to be put under martial law and questioned the loyalty of leading members of the Laandsrat but other than that, hey. Her headset clicked into life again. She still hadn't signed the paperwork at the council chambers. She took the headset from her head and put it on the instrument panel in front of her. In the corner of her eye she noticed a crate of Blue Sun beer. The paperwork can wait, she thought, as she cracked open a can.