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12.12.910.M38
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The Dominion was prospering, and its enemies were suffering. Because of that, I could state without fear that my work as Regent of the Dominion was being carried out to the letter.
Dozens of planets had begun colonization and terraforming processes, relocating millions of humans to new worlds while, in parallel, the slow and meticulous process of modifying the Imperial genome began, replacing it with the more stable and efficient Terran genome.
It had been proven that we did not produce the psychic mutations that plagued the Imperials. The further our work advanced, the fewer resources we had to devote to the constant hunt for psykers. Even so, many years—perhaps decades—would pass before we could convert the entire population of the Dominion into Terrans. Yet even within this short period of unprecedented territorial and economic expansion, we had managed to grow from barely 8 million Terrans to nearly 500 million. It was an enormous increase in absolute terms, although we remained an insignificant minority compared to the Dominion's total population, which had already reached 15 billion inhabitants.
On the hive world, the population was ultimately estimated at 14 billion. Even then, administrators failed to achieve an exact census; there was always an unknown margin. That entire population was redistributed across more than 40 worlds, 120 moons, and 50 stellar platforms, marking the beginning of a new phase of order.
Since the annexation, all industries had entered a phase of explosive growth. With the foundations necessary to sustain population growth, the State possessed all the resources required to adapt the population to a far more productive economy. With 20 new agricultural worlds, food production had surged, generating surpluses far beyond what we could sell to either the T'au or the Imperium. This gradually turned Agria into the primary destination for nearly all local merchants, thanks to the extremely low price of food. At the same time, we began using many Imperial planets already under our effective control as de facto vassals, employing them as intermediaries to expand food sales to the Imperium in exchange for minerals.
15 worlds were transformed into industrial planets, largely devoted to the production of complex machinery: highly specialized chips, memory units, advanced cabling, radios, televisions, phones, computers, sensor systems, targeting systems, robotic arms, exoskeletons, Gauss coils, and processors. These planets became the Dominion's high-technology industrial belt, where everything refined was manufactured—everything that required complex processes before being integrated into other production chains.
4 worlds were designated as administrative nodes, linking New Korhal with the rest of the Dominion. Massive computation complexes were built there, many located on ocean worlds, where seawater was used to cool artificial intelligences as they processed data from billions of inhabitants, industries, and the bureaucratic structures required to sustain a State that monitored its entire population through listening devices, tracking chips, and control networks. Even so, these logistical nodes still had vast room for expansion to integrate additional worlds in the future.
Finally, the military training world Spatha I became the jewel of the Dominion's crown. All troopers, members of the Royal Guard, pilots, and naval personnel were sent there for training.
Quite literally, the entire planet was transformed into a colossal military camp. We deliberately allowed the ork population to grow, though without permitting technological advancement, turning the world into the greatest firing range ever created. Ghosts practiced precision shots at distances of 12 kilometers, conducted exercises from transport ships, and carried out insertion operations. Troopers trained defensive tactics in bunkers, concentrated fire, and rapid assaults from transports. All of this directly supported Prometheus Company, whose new commander—the planet's military governor—conducted daily surgical raids to capture orks and further refine laser weaponry. Over time, these trials were extended to kinetic weapons as well, since the test subjects were abundant and renewable.
120 moons were converted into mining worlds, exploited until they were nearly hollowed out, with the goal of later transforming them into agricultural worlds once all material of interest had been extracted. Space stations served as orbital refineries, exploiting asteroid belts through armies of mining robots or refining nearby nebulae, manipulating atomic motion to gather sufficient usable material. During these processes, multiple new elements were discovered, still unknown, though in quantities so small that it was not yet possible to determine whether they could be used as weapons, armor materials, or civilian components, as they barely sufficed for initial experiments.
All of this produced a single result: total popular support. Support so broad that it allowed the implementation of any measures deemed necessary for the Dominion's security. Among them was the great educational reform. The curriculum was completely overhauled, abandoning indiscriminate hatred toward all xenos and replacing it with a more precise doctrine: absolute hostility toward those xenos that posed a real threat to the Dominion, while distinguishing them from those with whom cooperation was possible. Within this framework, the protoss were explicitly classified as trustworthy xenos.
I no longer needed the old guard. With popular support secured, I could advance measures that would previously have provoked fierce opposition within the administration. Many of the new citizens had never seen a xeno, let alone a protoss. As long as they were reminded that such beings could be contained and controlled, rejection faded. In two centuries, the protoss would likely have their own planet.
The Dominion functioned like a perfectly oiled machine. We could move a soldier from one end to the other in a matter of minutes. Any attempt at invasion immediately activated the entire army and navy. However, as our power grew, so did internal bellicosity. Certain sectors demanded an open war against the Imperium, breaking the secrecy that had protected us until now. For the moment, I had nearly 100 Ghosts diverting the attention of a group of inquisitors investigating the disappearance of the tithe fleet. They had moved steadily farther north, slowly drawing suspicion away from us.
In parallel, during those years we increased our number of Ghosts by 500 operatives. We also began recruiting a new strain for our ranks: blanks. Not as Ghosts, but as shock infantry subordinate to them. I knew very well what they were capable of. Many found them repulsive simply for existing; their mere presence unsettled most people. Not us. Where others saw filthy and disturbing beings, we saw exhausted, frightened individuals marked by abuse. They were ideal for integration into the Psi-Ops, just like the protoss, 200 of whom were already serving with us.
The blanks quickly began to fill the ranks. Once identified, every birth was reported immediately. We had already gathered nearly 300, and the number was rising rapidly. They would become indispensable support troops for the Ghosts.
"Hendrik… we have a discovery that might interest you," Kurt said as he entered my office while I reviewed the reports.
"Tell me," I replied with a faint smile.
"During explorations along Psi-Ops routes, we found an enormous concentration of asteroids and wreckage from destroyed ships. It looks like a ship graveyard. It might be worth sending a research fleet. There could be material useful to the fleet," he explained.
"A ship graveyard… it must be massive," I said thoughtfully. "Normally, debris disperses due to gravitational effects or solar winds."
"Exactly. This one hasn't. It shows anomalous stability. That's why I'm requesting authorization to send a team and attempt to recover anything of value," Kurt replied.
"Go ahead. Send something. It will be interesting to see what's hidden there. By the way, how are the designs based on the data from Prometheus Company progressing?" I asked as I stretched.
"They're advancing. They haven't surpassed our current models yet, but it's only a matter of time. They've started using ceramite in the weapon systems to concentrate more heat and energy at a single point. We still need to see the results," he answered.
"Excellent news. I think I'll go there personally. Lately there hasn't been much to do. I was about to enter stasis just to let time pass faster," I said as I stood up.
"And then you complain that you have too much work," Kurt replied with a grimace. "You've delegated almost everything to the AI."
"It took years to calibrate them so they could process information without errors," I replied, pointing at his pocket watch. "Now they work better than that."
"True," he admitted. "One question before you leave. What do you plan to do with next year's budget? With the exponential economic growth and four years of civil investment, the budget has increased fortyfold. Would it be feasible to build a second White Star… and a larger military shipyard?"
"I was planning to keep investing in infrastructure for one more year," I replied. "We could triple GDP again. Open more mining complexes, build around two hundred nebula refineries, expand the genetic purification project to all Dominion worlds. New Korhal has already reached full conversion."
"But we haven't built new cruisers," Kurt countered. "The academies are full of capable officers without assignments. I have enough personnel to crew a hundred cruisers right now."
"So you already have the designs?" I asked, sitting back down.
"I sent them to you already. They should be on your terminal."
I reviewed the schematics. Then I looked up at him.
"I didn't know you liked mega-architecture," I said, studying the project—clearly pharaonic in scale.
"Centralizing production improves everything," he explained. "With transposition matrices, we can move minerals across the planet itself. Energy consumption will be high; the protoss pylons will have to operate at maximum output. But that volcanic world can become a megaforge. Millions of metric tons processed per day."
He moved to the next slide.
"A shipyard," I murmured.
"Not just any shipyard. Automated, assembly-line production. Dozens of cruisers per month. Under ideal conditions, fifty Minotaur-class cruisers or ten Gorgon-class per month. If both projects are implemented, the T'au will stop being a problem," Kurt said with a smile.
"This would take decades," I replied seriously. "Committing the budget for that long is not a minor decision. We can do one… perhaps. But not both. Choose."
I fixed my gaze on him, waiting for his answer.
"Well, the megaforge is the better option," Kurt said. "It serves everything. We've neglected heavy equipment production for army support. In the worst-case scenario, it could produce tanks, a few more Black Hammers, a second Odin… there's a lot we could do as long as we set up the molds on the planet. That's why building the forge is so important. There's so much we could achieve if we had abundant raw materials— even giving our materials researchers free rein to study whatever they can think of."
"Alright… I'll see how to adjust it," I said as I began running calculations with the trillions of credits in the annual budget and the production of critical materials for the Dominion. "With this year's growth, I might be able to recalibrate the numbers and keep the plans moving, although I'll have to cut back slightly on preventive infrastructure expansion… and reduce the number of refinery stations a bit."
"Thank you, Hendrik. I owe you one," Kurt said. "The officers were on the verge of rebelling due to the lack of opportunities."
"It's not the same as the army," I replied. "If we need more troopers, we simply recruit more. We have weapons to spare—almost enough to give them away—with how much we've overproduced." I looked at him. "Anything else, or should I go take a look at that graveyard?"
"No, not for now," he answered. "I'll go deliver the good news… new slots in the Dominion Navy will be opening soon."
"Good," I said as I stepped into the void to return to my ship—then remembered something. Moments later, I appeared beside Kurt.
"Hendrik—!" he shouted, startled.
"Sorry," I added calmly. "Can you order the prison department to release an Ethereal? We're in the appropriate period, and we need to release one of the two. Thanks."
Before he could reply, I vanished back into the void.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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