Chapter 206: A Complicated Negotiation
To be perfectly honest, the High Lords of Terra had long grown accustomed to serving a silent god.
For ten thousand years, the entire Imperium had been ruled by a single body composed of twelve men and women. For generations, the High Lords of Terra had shouldered the responsibility of making all of the nation's major decisions, guiding the human race through countless trials and challenges. In the political sphere of Terra, there was no power greater than the Senatorum Imperialis.
But things were different now.
So when the first rumours of Primarchs emerged from the Crusade Fleet, they had been panicked, especially when the four were found to be traveling with the Black Templars. No one knew if this was a good thing or a bad thing for the Imperium.
But the Crusade Fleet's subsequent actions had brought a great sense of relief to the Throneworld. When the first reports arrived through the whispers of the astropaths, the tense atmosphere in the Imperial Palace finally eased.
They had not brought their blades to Terra. They had not used the crusade as a pretext to conquer a string of troublesome worlds and amass their own authority. These Primarchs were willing to understand the Imperium, and were attempting to change it within limited parameters. The measures they had taken along their path were relatively moderate. They had not expelled all non-Astartes factions from the centers of power.
At the same time, the High Lords had gained a clear understanding of the Primarchs' wisdom. Reconstructing trade routes, integrating administrative systems, reorganizing planetary defense grids, unifying local beliefs through the promotion of the Imperial Cult... winning the war was, by comparison, the easiest part. The Imperium had never lacked for brilliant strategists. It was just that the Imperium's bloated bureaucracy was incapable of converting their victories into tangible gains.
And there was no single human individual in the Imperium who could handle such complex and detailed administrative work. The High Lords wished they could, but the grim reality reminded them that even with the power of all twelve combined, they could not match the grand, holistic vision of a Primarch.
And as the crusade had progressed, the "looting" had also been very enjoyable for everyone involved. If such a force were to operate in the Ultima Segmentum, the benefits to the Imperium would be immense. They could even accept the emergence of a second Ultramar, tacitly approving its expansion. After all, even after ten thousand years, the dozen or so systems surrounding Macragge were still under the unified jurisdiction of the Ultramarines, and the Imperium continued to enjoy the stability this brought to the surrounding sectors. Before the Tyrannic invasion, Macragge had not seen a major incident in nearly ten thousand years.
However, before that—
"Lufgt Huron, Chapter Master of the Astral Claws, proposed to the High Lords of Terra half a century ago the founding of new Astartes Chapters, or the transfer of additional Astartes forces, for the complete conquest of the Maelstrom," the representative of the Administratum, Itu-Hamathelion, said, stepping forward at Romulus's gesture. The red-flagged file on his data-slate was glaringly bright in the hall. His voice was calm and restrained, but it carried a subtle accusation.
"The High Lords of Terra refused."
"Since then," he continued, "the sector has not paid its tithes for forty-one years. They have been paid in proxy by the neighbouring Karis Cephalon sector. At the same time, Huron has even refused to allow merchant fleets to enter the Badab Sector."
The expressions of the delegates varied. Some frowned in thought. Some unconsciously caressed the sigils on their staves of office. Others looked to Romulus, trying to discern his leanings from his expression. They needed to gauge the Primarch's attitude towards the Imperial Tithe, and they needed a guarantee.
Due to the very real existence of Astartes-supremacism, the number of Space Marine Chapters had always been strictly limited. Even for the High Lords, mobilizing Astartes forces was a complex matter, involving intricate strategic deployments. And the Maelstrom region had no strategic value for conquest. So they had always avoided Lufgt Huron's various proposals.
The bureaucrats of the Administratum now trembled whenever they saw a "Sector Conquered" file. If you ignored it, you dared to abandon the sacred duty given to you by the Emperor, and you could look forward to an eternity of redemption as a servo-scribe. If you dealt with it, you had to add another tumor to the already bloated Imperial Palace, and who knew when these newly conquered sectors would stop draining the Imperium's resources and actually begin to contribute to its increasingly exhausted body.
Tacitly allowing Huron to do his thing was one thing; most of the High Lords were not fools. The Maelstrom was an important trade route and resource node. But to let it completely break away and develop on its own? That was absolutely out of the question. Allowing him to withhold his tithes was their limit. But the problem was that Huron had managed the Maelstrom region very well, even earning the title "Tyrant of Badab."
He was just a warlord in a single sector. Who gave him the right to withhold the Imperial Tithe? If any Chapter Master could do this, what would happen to the other sectors? To be honest, Romulus also hated the idea of having someone like that under his command. Why, in the same administrative system, should a subordinate unit be able to withhold taxes based on its own will? Such a precedent could never be set.
"The payment of the Imperial Tithe is mandatory," Romulus said, acknowledging the point, before stating his reason. "But from what I have seen and heard along the Dawn Crusade, I do not believe the Throneworld itself can effectively utilize these tithes."
This statement was rather pointed. The various representatives instantly fell silent.
The representative of the Departmento Munitorum, Violeta Roscafler, a capable woman from the ice-and-fire world of Inwit, unconsciously traced the edge of her data-slate, her expression growing exceptionally grave. As an official who had long been in charge of the Munitorum's logistics, she knew better than anyone how inefficient the Imperium's use of its tithes was. In the various repository worlds, tithes from every planet were piled mountains high. Unopened crates of supplies rotted and rusted in the colossal storage arrays. They even had to periodically destroy a portion of the "unimportant" tithes to make room, as they had reached their storage capacity.
And Romulus was not just speaking empty words. He beckoned to the Invictarus Suzerain who were acting as aides for the conference, and they distributed a list of data to each of the representatives. The Sol Sector, he did not know about. But from his investigations along the crusade's path, in the Ultima Segmentum alone, it was doubtful if the Imperium's utilization rate of the various sectors' tithes even reached 5%. They were in a state of severe overcapacity. The Administratum of the Ultima Segmentum alone had failed to disburse 83% of its budget last year due to bureaucratic backlogs.
This meant that every citizen of the Imperium was, for no reason, working at least twenty times harder than they needed to.
"..."
A murmur of conversation flowed between the delegates. They frowned as they checked the data, occasionally exchanging opinions in low voices. It took them nearly half an hour to complete their initial review.
All eyes then turned to Romulus. Unlike the Inquisition, the various departments of the Imperium would generally give a certain amount of face to armed forces like the Space Marines and the Imperial Knights. A late or slightly short tithe payment could be overlooked. Some extreme actions could be tolerated. And since the Primarch was willing to talk, they were willing to listen.
"I hope that in the future, the tithes from the sectors controlled by the Dawnbreakers can be sent directly to the Imperial worlds that need them," Romulus said, his finger tracing a line across the hololithic star-chart, using Ultramar as a template and marking several key nodes. "For example, the various fortress worlds and important industrial worlds. Terra will have the right of oversight and audit, and can be present throughout the process."
"My Lord, are you referring to the Dawnbreakers, or to all Astartes?" the representative of the Administratum, Hamathelion, asked.
"Only sectors guaranteed by the Dawnbreakers will receive this privilege. And it is limited to the Ultima Segmentum," Romulus replied. He was not afraid of others trying to copy him. If anyone dared, both he and the Imperium would bring down the hammer.
Hamathelion's brow relaxed slightly, but he quickly followed up with another cautious question. "And what of the recipient sectors?"
"They will be chosen from the Segmentum Obscurus," Romulus's answer was crisp and decisive.
This reply made Hamathelion's tense shoulders visibly relax. He let out a soft breath and exchanged a look with the other delegates. The atmosphere in the hall eased considerably.
The Imperium was divided into five Segmentae, with the Throneworld at its center.
The Segmentum Solar: The core region, centered on the Sol System. The political and military heart of the Imperium, containing Holy Terra and Mars.
The Segmentum Ultima: East of the Segmentum Solar. The largest Segmentum, containing a vast number of colonies and frontier warzones, constantly facing xenos threats.
The Segmentum Tempestus: South of the Segmentum Solar. Known for frequent interstellar conflicts and border turmoil. Many rebellious sons, frequent uprisings.
The Segmentum Pacificus: West of the Segmentum Solar. As its name implies, relatively stable. In fact, it was Terra's most stable tax base, before Lord Solar Macharius shook things up.
The Segmentum Obscurus: North of the Segmentum Solar. Most famous for the Cadian Sector, location of the Eye of Terror. The Segmentum with the most brutal wars, a bottomless pit into which the majority of the Imperium's strength was poured.
Romulus was not interfering in the Segmentum Solar, which meant he had no intention of expanding his influence on the Throneworld. By choosing the Segmentum Obscurus, it meant this Primarch was genuinely dissatisfied with the Imperium's inefficiency and intended to solve these problems personally. For the High Lords of Terra, if someone could relieve their pressure in the Segmentum Obscurus, that would be for the best.
"But the integration of sectors is a massive undertaking. I imagine your policies will be long-term?" Hamathelion asked, probing. This meant more work, and with it, uncertainty. It would require a huge administrative effort. The Administratum needed to consider this, because they were already under immense pressure. The Tyrannic War was basically over, but the military mobilization procedures for constructing a new Tyranid defense line would still require years, even decades, of meaningless calculations by Administratum officials. This was the bloat of the Administratum.
Romulus looked at Custodian-Warden Navradaran. "When the Emperor created the Custodes, he endowed them with his highest hopes for humanity. So every Custodian, while being an exceptional warrior, is also an exceptional statesman, strategist, and philosopher."
Romulus's words made Navradaran straighten his back with pride. Yes, it was for this very reason that he had refused to remain in the Imperial Palace.
"So, may I entrust this matter to the Adeptus Custodes?" If a Custodian could liaise directly with the Master of the Administratum, just as Aglaia represented the Grand Master of Assassins and the High Inquisitor, the workload on both sides would be reduced, and building mutual trust would be much simpler.
"Of course, my Lord," Navradaran replied immediately. He then turned to the Administratum official. "The Lucifer Blacks will accompany you on your return. On Holy Terra, the Master of the Administratum may contact Shield-Captain Valerian of the Custodes to report on this work. The Custodes will also participate in the oversight and handling of all administrative matters related to the Primarch."
Romulus's patience and respect for mortals had won him a great deal of favour. This Primarch did not see himself as a transhuman or a god, but as a part of the human species.
"How many?" Romulus asked, curious.
"Myself, Valerian, and one Eye of the Emperor. Three," Navradaran replied.
Just as I thought. The Custodes are never that proactive. They've been mourning at the foot of the throne for ten thousand years and haven't done a single useful thing.
A look of disappointment flickered in Romulus's eyes. If he had to name the one Imperial faction that he was most disappointed in—it wasn't the traitor Primarchs; they were a lost cause and would all be dealt with one day. It wasn't the parasitic Adeptus Mechanicus; they were just knowledge-hoarders, and once he was strong enough, he would break their monopoly and send them to the stars. And it wasn't these mortal officials; though their system was abstract, they were the most understandable. They were genuinely doing their best. The Imperial system itself was the problem. The fact that their emergency protocols had lasted for ten thousand years was a testament to how rich the Imperium's foundations truly were.
No, it was the Custodes.
These demigods, aside from the black-clad Shadowkeepers who guarded the forbidden things beneath the Palace, the retired Eyes of the Emperor, and the very few like Navradaran who had left to assist the Imperium long ago... every single one of them was shut up in the Palace, either guarding a door or playing their ridiculous Blood Games. What was the point of that game, where they role-played as assassins trying to kill the Emperor, other than to pass the time? Did they think they could prevent an Ork assassination when attack moons were hanging over Terra?
These were beings whose knowledge of human politics, military affairs, and civil matters was a template for all others, and they spent their days on this nonsense. If they spent one day a month helping the Administratum sort out its paperwork, the state of the Imperium would be much better than it was now.
Romulus clenched his fists. He had a lot of opinions about the Custodes. One day, when the Dawnbreakers marched on Terra, he was going to hang them from the prow of a Gloriana-class battleship and show them what a real Blood Game was.
Noticing Romulus's expression, Navradaran looked ashamed. He knew what most of his comrades were like. But just as they did not interfere in his affairs, he could not make too many demands of them.
"Lord Romulus, could you provide a specific proposal for this mechanism?" Hamathelion continued, now with the backing of the Custodes, feeling more confident. First, they would settle the policies for Ultramar and the Maelstrom. The Imperium didn't care about much else. Only loyalty and taxes. As long as he wasn't doing something outrageous like using his own taxes to fund his own development, they could tolerate a special case like a Primarch.
The other delegates also joined the discussion, seeking to protect the interests of their own factions, clearly accepting this ten-thousand-year-old exception. There could be no exceptions because no one could be responsible forever. When a man dies, his policies die with him. The term of a High Lord, aside from the special cases of the Assassinorum and the Fabricator-General of Mars, was only ten to fifty years. You can give a guarantee while you're alive, but what happens after you're dead? Who will replace you?
Unless you are the Emperor, or a Primarch.
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