A Governor's Impossible Choice on a Dying Agri-World in Warhammer 40K

0:00[clears throat]

0:01>> By ledger ink and tithe law, by the

0:04throne's cold arithmetic and the hunger

0:07of distant hive cities,

0:10Brother from the void and this are tales

0:13from the void.

0:14Tonight, we're on Boonhaven,

0:17an agri-world that feeds strangers it

0:19will never meet under a sky stained with

0:23chemicals and dust.

0:25Here, mercy is a luxury

0:28and every decision is measured in

0:31quotas, not feelings.

0:34Our narrator is Governor Cast, the man

0:37the Administratum will blame if a single

0:40shipment comes up light.

0:42He's not fighting orcs or demons

0:44tonight. He's fighting hunger,

0:47machinery, blight, sabotage,

0:51and the kind of Imperial duty that keeps

0:54a noose ready even for loyal men.

0:58So, keep your prayers short, your

1:01conscience quieter than your vox,

1:04and remember,

1:05in the Imperium, you don't get rewarded

1:08for surviving, you just get more to

1:11carry.

1:13Let's begin.

1:17At dawn, I watch a man hang for stealing

1:19a sack of grain. The rope creaks and his

1:22bare feet kick the air for a few moments

1:25before falling still.

1:27I even knew this man, Kester, a father

1:30of two, and the thought flickers through

1:32my mind that those children are now

1:34orphans by my decree.

1:37But if I had spared him, I would be

1:39condemning far more children to starve

1:42when the tithe comes due.

1:45Such is the calculus I live by.

1:48I need the others to see this and

1:50understand. A single sack of grain can

1:53feed a hundred souls on some distant

1:55hive world. If I allow even one bag to

1:58go missing, my world could be next on

2:01the Adeptus Administratum's list of

2:02failures.

2:04They say "Hunger is no different from

2:06any other foe. Defeat it in the

2:08Emperor's name and save humanity."

2:11A stirring maxim plastered across our

2:14silo walls and droned by preachers at

2:17harvest feasts.

2:18Easy enough to proclaim from the ivory

2:20spires of Terra.

2:22Here on Boonehaven, my little patch of

2:24mud and wheat at the edge of the galaxy,

2:27hunger is just one of a thousand threats

2:29gnawing at my heels. It's not starvation

2:32that keeps me awake at night. It's fear.

2:36Fear of the day our harvest fails. Fear

2:38of the moment some bureaucrat on Terra

2:41notices a shortfall in our tithe and

2:44signs my death warrant. Fear of what the

2:47Imperium will do to us all if I come up

2:50short.

2:51I step down from the gallows platform as

2:54the corpse wings gently behind me.

2:57The crowd of laborers assembled as

2:59witnesses parts to let me through. Some

3:02avert their eyes. Others cast me

3:05resentful sidelong glances when they

3:07think I'm not looking. Not long ago, I

3:10might have felt a pang of guilt at that.

3:13Not anymore. Guilt is a luxury I can't

3:15afford. Not when the Emperor's servants

3:18demand results. So, I meet each sullen

3:21gaze with my own until they bow their

3:24heads and mumble prayers for the dead

3:26thief's soul. Let them curse my name in

3:29secret if it helps them cope as long as

3:32their backs stay bent in the fields.

3:35"Back to work." I say flatly, voice

3:37carrying in the morning stillness.

3:40>> [music]

3:40>> The Adepts from the Officio Agricultae

3:43taught me that a governor's words must

3:45be obeyed as if they came from the

3:47throne itself. On paper, I'm the sole

3:50authority on this planet. a petty king

3:53of wheat and barley. [music]

3:55In reality, I'm as much a slave to the

3:57Imperium's demands as any of these

4:00indentured workers.

4:02Perhaps more so.

4:04They only fear my lash. I fear the

4:06entire Adeptus Terra descending on me

4:09for even a single failed quota.

4:12The witnesses disperse, shuffling back

4:14toward the waiting auto carts and

4:16crawlers that will ferry them to the

4:17fields.

4:19Dawn shift is beginning.

4:21A few tech adepts in oil-stained robes

4:23move among them, mechadendrites

4:26twitching as they calibrate harvesting

4:28machines for another long day's toil.

4:31In the distance, the horizon is already

4:34aglow with the sickly orange haze of

4:36chemical fertilizers being sprayed over

4:39endless crops. The rising sun is a

4:42bloated red disk behind a veil of dust.

4:45More pale than yesterday, I note. The

4:48agri-continent's atmosphere is so

4:50saturated with nitrates and industrial

4:53aerosols that each sunrise comes tinted

4:56in hues of rust and tangerine.

4:59Beautiful in a toxic sort of way.

5:02I draw a breath through my rebreather

5:05mask, tasting the bitter tang of ammonia

5:08and burnt oil in the air.

5:10The filters clog quickly out here. I

5:13pull the rubbery apparatus from my face

5:15and wipe a residue of orange powder from

5:17its intake vents.

5:19Hive World Manufactoria churn this stuff

5:22out by the megaton from offal and

5:25chemical sludge, then ship it to us as

5:27lifeline and whip in one.

5:30We dump it on our fields in a race

5:31against nature, force-feeding the soil

5:34to wring out one more harvest before it

5:37turns completely barren.

5:39One day, maybe a thousand years from

5:42now, Boon Haven will finally give up the

5:44ghost. The clever men of Mars and Terra

5:48assure me that with enough chemical

5:50encouragement, it won't happen in my

5:52lifetime or my children's.

5:55Assuming I live long enough to have

5:57children. Assuming the Administratum

5:59doesn't decide to change our tithe

6:02classification and cull half the

6:04population first. But I digress.

6:08A servitor with dull eyes and a

6:10crackling vox speaker clanks up to my

6:12side. It blurts a burst of binary static

6:16that resolves into a tinny recitation.

6:19The voice of my overseer adept back at

6:21the estate.

6:23Governor, the morning report is ready

6:25for your review, drones the servitor.

6:28Shall I summon a transport?

6:30I nod absently and wave it off.

6:33The servitor bows with a whir of pistons

6:36and returns to the idling armored auto

6:38car waiting near the gallows.

6:41My cue to leave. The morning's grim

6:43spectacle is concluded and duty calls.

6:47Duty.

6:48In the Imperium, that word outweighs

6:50oceans of blood.

6:52As I walk to the vehicle, I steal a

6:55final glance at the rising sun over the

6:57plains. Endless uniform rows of crops

7:00stretch out in every direction beyond

7:02the prefab worker habs. Wheat, soy, grox

7:06fodder. All gene-tailored to grow fast

7:09and survive Boon Haven's thinning

7:11topsoil.

7:13The vista ought to be calming, but I see

7:15only vulnerability.

7:17Those golden fields are life for

7:19countless strangers on worlds I'll never

7:22even visit.

7:23And if even a fraction of them fail, if

7:26a single megaton freighter leaves our

7:29orbital docks one grain under weight, my

7:32name will be on a very short list of

7:34people to blame.

7:36The auto car's door is held open by a

7:39waiting guardsman of my planetary

7:41defense force.

7:42I nod at the soldier, a corporal with

7:45augmetic arms, and settle into the worn

7:48leather seat as the door shuts with a

7:50clunk. The engine hums and we lurch into

7:53motion along the rutted track toward my

7:56governor's estate.

7:57>> [music]

7:57>> Dust swirls in our wake. I allow myself

8:01a rare moment to close my eyes and knead

8:04the tension from my temples.

8:06It's barely past sunrise and I've

8:09already carried out an execution,

8:11inhaled a lungful of toxins, and been

8:15reminded of my mounting paperwork.

8:17Emperor be praised. Another glorious day

8:21on the agri world frontier. "Back to the

8:24estate, sir." Comes the muffled voice of

8:26the driver from the front compartment.

8:29"Yes, and step on it." I reply. "There's

8:33much to do."

8:35There always is.

8:36The armored car rumbles through

8:38sprawling fields and past rows of

8:40utilitarian worker barracks before

8:43ascending the hill toward my residence.

8:45Residence might be a generous word. It's

8:48a fortress-like complex of plastisteel

8:51and rockcrete, equal parts manor and

8:54bunker.

8:55Once, generations ago, the planetary

8:57governor's palace on Boon Haven was a

9:00grand gilded villa surrounded by actual

9:03orchards.

9:04Those orchards were plowed under

9:06centuries back in favor of more

9:09farmland, and the villa itself has long

9:11since been rebuilt as a fortified

9:14administration hub. Now, it's ringed by

9:17defense turrets and auspex scanners, a

9:20citadel jutting up from a sea of crops.

9:24Paradise turned stronghold. A symbol of

9:27what the Imperium makes of all its

9:29precious agri worlds eventually.

9:32We grind to a halt in the courtyard.

9:34Servitors and staff approach. A mech

9:37servitor begins inspecting the

9:39dust-caked vehicle while a pair of

9:42flesh-and-blood attendants open my door.

9:45I step out into the already sweltering

9:48morning heat. Boon Haven's sun has

9:50barely cleared the horizon and yet the

9:52air is heavy with humidity from the

9:54irrigation reservoirs.

9:57My greatcoat immediately clings to my

9:59back. Another lovely day in the garden

10:02of the emperor.

10:03Are they Imperator? Governor, intones a

10:06familiar voice.

10:08Senior Adept Sarik of the Officio

10:11Agricultae stands at the base of the

10:14steps leading into the estate, thin data

10:17pad clutched to his chest.

10:19He's a spindly man hunched from years

10:22pouring over ledgers. His scalp largely

10:25hairless except for a few wispy strands

10:27stubbornly hanging on.

10:29Despite the heat, he wears a

10:31high-collared Administratum coat of

10:33faded black. Its edges trimmed in the

10:36gold cogtooth pattern of the Adeptus

10:39Terra.

10:40Tiny lenses implanted in his left eye

10:42whir and focus on me, an optical implant

10:45aiding his failing natural vision.

10:48Adept Sarik, I acknowledge, striding

10:51toward him. He falls in step beside me

10:53as we head indoors.

10:55You have the report?

10:57Yes, Governor. I took the liberty of

10:59compiling the latest yield projections

11:02and any overnight developments of note.

11:05His voice is reedy but quick, each word

11:08enunciated precisely, the consummate

11:11bureaucrat.

11:12He taps at his data pad as we walk down

11:15the vaulted corridor. Augmetic footmen

11:18bow as we pass under brass [music]

11:20aquilae mounted on the walls. Spare me

11:24the preamble. How do we stand? I ask

11:27brusquely.

11:28Sarik clears his throat.

11:30Overall, this year's harvest is at 78%

11:34completion across all continental

11:36farming zones.

11:38We are on track to meet the primary

11:40tithe target by the scheduled date,

11:43provided the output rate does not drop.

11:47He pauses and I sense a however coming.

11:51He continues,

11:53"Zone Delta saw a slight decline

11:55overnight. One of the harvester crawlers

11:58malfunctioned due to a turbine overload.

12:01Magos Veneris is overseeing repairs, but

12:04that quadrant's yield has fallen another

12:06half percent behind schedule.

12:09They're compensating by extending shifts

12:11to round-the-clock harvesting until the

12:13machine is operational again."

12:16I grimace. Zone Delta has been trouble

12:19for months. Soil exhaustion, equipment

12:22breakdowns, worker injuries.

12:24Tell the Magos if that crawler isn't

12:27back in the fields by tomorrow, I'll

12:29expect the Mechanicus to lend us

12:31additional Servitor teams to make up for

12:33lost time. If necessary, we'll harvest

12:36that entire quadrant by hand.

12:39"I I will relay your wishes, Governor."

12:42Sarik says carefully. I can almost hear

12:45his unspoken disapproval at the idea of

12:48inefficient manual labor.

12:50The Adeptus Mechanicus doesn't take

12:52kindly to us lowly admins interfering in

12:55their domain of machines.

12:57But if it's a choice between offending a

12:59Tech-Priest's sensibilities or missing

13:02our quota, I won't lose sleep over a few

13:06strained relations.

13:08We reach the door to the briefing

13:10chamber. Two house guards in flak armor

13:13snap to attention and pull the ornate

13:15doors open.

13:16Inside, lumen globes cast a stark white

13:19light over a long table strewn with

13:22hololithic projectors, stacks of

13:24parchment reports, and data slates. A

13:27large wall-mounted cogitator displays

13:30graphs of output and shipment schedules.

13:33I shrug off my dust-caked greatcoat and

13:36toss it over the back of a chair. Adept

13:39Sarik presses a rune on his pad and

13:42several charts flicker into the air

13:44above the table showing the status of

13:46each farming zone and storage silo.

13:49"As you can see, Governor, zones Alpha

13:52through Gamma are slightly above target

13:54output thanks to the favorable weather

13:57last week and the early planting tactics

14:00you authorized." Sarik says, pointing a

14:03bony finger at the green upward ticks on

14:05the holo. "Zone Delta is below target by

14:082.3%

14:10due to the factors I mentioned. Zones

14:12Epsilon and Zeta remain steady at

14:15projected levels."

14:17Mhm. I scan the data, absorbing the

14:19details. Our buffer is slim.

14:23The over-performing zones barely

14:25compensate for Delta's lag. Any further

14:28hiccup and we risk falling behind

14:30overall. We need that crawler fixed or a

14:34backup brought in from the depot. If the

14:36Mechanicus can't conjure one, strip the

14:39engine from the harvest monument and use

14:41that.

14:42Sarik's eyes widen in alarm.

14:45The harvest monument is a massive

14:47decommissioned harvester that sits in

14:50the capital's central square as a

14:52patriotic display during tide

14:55celebrations. He likely balks at

14:57dismantling a symbol of Imperial

14:59benevolence, but I'm only half serious,

15:02mostly.

15:04I give him a thin smile.

15:06"Kidding, Adept."

15:08"Of Of course, Governor." He replies

15:11uncertainly. He's never quite sure when

15:13I'm joking. Probably for the best.

15:17I sink into the high-backed chair at the

15:19head of the table. It's carved from

15:21local wood, one of the few trees left on

15:24this continent. A minor luxury I allow

15:27myself.

15:28What else?

15:30Sarik flips a page on his [music] data

15:32slate.

15:33In other news, Astropath Silvan received

15:36a transmission from Sector Command early

15:39this morning.

15:40The Segmentum Pacificus Administratum

15:43has reiterated that all agri-world

15:46outputs are to be maximized due to

15:48ongoing supply crises in adjacent

15:51sectors.

15:52He glances up, thin lips pressing

15:54together.

15:55Specifically, they note that hive worlds

15:58in the Drusus Marches subsector are

16:01experiencing famine conditions following

16:03the Great Rift disruptions. Our grain

16:06shipments will likely be redirected to

16:09support them, and an additional

16:10supplementary tithe may be requested

16:13next cycle.

16:14I swallow a curse.

16:17The Great Rift. Damn that infernal tear

16:20in reality that split the galaxy in two.

16:23Even years later, its effects ripple

16:25through every supply line and

16:27astropathic route. Worlds cut off,

16:30shipments lost in the warp, hungry

16:33mouths multiplying everywhere while

16:35production struggles. Of course, they

16:37want to squeeze us for more. They always

16:39do.

16:41"Noted," I say coldly. "We'll meet this

16:44year's tithe first. They can talk to me

16:46about supplementary tithes when I'm not

16:49scram bling to fulfill the current one."

16:53Sarik nods, though I sense his unease at

16:56my tone.

16:57"Indeed, Governor. On the matter of

16:59current events, there was an incident

17:02report from a nearby system."

17:05He adjusts the lenses over his eye.

17:07"Agri-world Bellis 14th has apparently

17:10suffered a significant setback."

17:13"I"

17:14"Pirate raid, it seems.

17:17Their primary storage silos were

17:19attacked and torched three nights ago.

17:22Bellis's governor is claiming a loss of

17:25nearly 15% of their stored grain for

17:28this season. Despite myself, I feel the

17:31corner of my mouth twitch. Almost a

17:35smile. I force my face to remain a mask

17:38of concern.

17:40"Emperor's mercy. Pirates, you say?" I

17:43ask, lacing my voice with dismay.

17:47"That is most unfortunate."

17:49"Bellis the 14th is one of our sister

17:52worlds in this sector.

17:54Do we know if the raiders were chaos

17:56affiliated?" "Orks?"

17:59"Unknown at this time." Seric replies.

18:02"The report was fragmentary. They

18:05requested aid in the form of emergency

18:07rations, but given our own pressures, I

18:10doubt sector command will divert

18:13anything. It's more likely they'll

18:15simply demand Bellis's governor make up

18:17the shortfall locally or face censure."

18:21"I see." I lean back, fingers steepled.

18:24My reflection in the cogitator screen

18:27shows a man in his 40s, pale from too

18:29many long nights under lumen light. Dark

18:32hair neatly combed back. Eyes shadowed

18:35with fatigue. A concerned planetary

18:38governor pondering the plight of his

18:40neighbors. If only the good Adept could

18:43read the real thoughts behind that

18:45furrowed brow.

18:46Pirates, a convenient fiction.

18:49In truth, the operatives I sent to

18:51Bellis the 14th must have completed

18:53their task.

18:55Weeks of clandestine planning, funneling

18:58arms and supplies to a band of off-world

19:00mercenaries, all culminating in one

19:03night of fire that set Governor Arturus

19:06of Bellis back a good many steps. A

19:09risky gambit to be sure. If the

19:11Administratum ever traced those

19:13mercenaries back to me, I'd be swinging

19:16from my own gallows by next dawn.

19:19But I made certain to cover our tracks.

19:21The raiders I hired truly were pirates

19:24after all, albeit ones bribed to take a

19:27particular interest in Bellis's grain

19:29stores. And should any of them be

19:31captured, they know nothing of who

19:33tipped them off about the lightly

19:35guarded [music] silos on a certain

19:37moonlit night.

19:39"Tragic," I murmur.

19:41"Pass along my sympathies through the

19:43usual channels, and double the picket

19:46patrols around our orbital silos. If

19:49pirates are sniffing around agri-worlds

19:52in this region, I won't have Boon Haven

19:54be their next victim."

19:57Saric jots a note. "At once, Governor. I

20:00will instruct Colonel Voss to reinforce

20:03the orbital defenses and monitor for any

20:05void craft not on the approved

20:07registry."

20:09"Good." I allow a somber sigh.

20:12"These are perilous times, Adept. Ever

20:15since the Great Rift opened, all manner

20:18of lawless scum prowl the space lanes.

20:21We must remain ever vigilant."

20:23"Just so, Governor."

20:25He hesitates, then ventures a tentative

20:27question.

20:29"Do you think Bellis's misfortune will

20:31affect us politically?

20:34Might the sector Administratum impose

20:36any additional burden on Boon Haven to

20:38compensate?" "The question is valid, I

20:41admit. If one agri-world in our network

20:45under delivers, the hungry still must

20:47eat. In theory, all surrounding worlds

20:50would be ordered to increase output to

20:52make up the difference. In practice,

20:55we're already straining to meet our own

20:57tithe."

20:58I shake my head. "Sector Command knows

21:01we're at full stretch as it is. We'll

21:04send the expected shipments. If Bellis

21:06falls short, that's on them. Let the

21:09Administratum send some stern clerks to

21:11wag fingers, maybe replace their

21:13governor if they're feeling dramatic,

21:16but they won't get an extra grain of

21:18cornadon feed out of us this season.

21:21We simply have no surplus.

21:23Adeptus Serec purses his lips, but nods.

21:27He can hardly argue otherwise given the

21:29numbers.

21:30I glance again at the holo display of

21:33our progress, feeling a mix of grim

21:35satisfaction and lingering anxiety.

21:38Bellis the 14th's troubles mean that for

21:41once, Boon Haven might outshine our

21:44peers. That could earn us a

21:46commendation, or at least keep the

21:48overseer's scrutiny focused elsewhere.

21:52Yet, Serec's question lingers in my

21:55mind. The Imperium cares only that its

21:58quotas are met. It matters little to

22:00them which world provides the grain,

22:03only that the total tally reaches the

22:05required amount. If Bellis fails and we

22:08cannot cover the gap, someone will

22:11suffer. If not us now, then others

22:13later.

22:14The debt of grain will be paid in blood

22:16if necessary.

22:18That thought leaves a sour taste on my

22:20tongue. There's a fine line I tread with

22:23these covert actions. By sabotaging my

22:27rival, I may have secured Boon Haven's

22:29standing, but I've also slightly

22:32weakened our sector's overall food

22:34output. Somewhere far above my station,

22:38an Administratum logistican will note

22:40the deficit.

22:42They might chalk it up to the pirate

22:44raids and think nothing more, or they

22:46might decide that all agri-world

22:49governors in this subsector need to

22:52redouble their efforts to prevent

22:54further incidents. In other words,

22:56they'll crack the whip on all of us for

22:59the sins of one.

23:01I won't pretend remorse for Arcturus of

23:04Bellis.

23:05The man would have done the same to me

23:07in a heartbeat. In fact, he tried once,

23:10if the evidence my spies gathered is

23:13true.

23:14I still recall the mysterious blaze in

23:16silo six two harvests ago.

23:19A fire that gutted an entire season's

23:22yield overnight. Officially, it was

23:24blamed on an electrical fault.

23:26Unofficially, my intelligence agents

23:29intercepted whispers linking it to a

23:30saboteur from Bellis.

23:33We could never prove Governor Arcturus'

23:35direct hand, but I knew.

23:38I saw it in the smug congratulations he

23:41offered me at the next sector conclave,

23:43his eyes dancing as he professed relief

23:46that we recovered so swiftly.

23:49From that day, I understood exactly what

23:51lengths he would go to in order to save

23:53himself,

23:54and what lengths I would have to go to

23:56outmaneuver him. But I must be cautious

23:59that my scheme doesn't rebound on my own

24:01head.

24:02Sarac's voice interrupts my reverie.

24:05Will that be all in the report,

24:07Governor?

24:09Yes. I rise from my chair, the data

24:11projections flickering and dissipating

24:13as I push it back.

24:15Have copies of the yield report and the

24:17astropathic communication sent to my

24:20personal cogitator.

24:22I'll review them again later. For now,

24:24continue with the plan. Get that

24:26harvester running and keep the workers

24:28in Delta on task around the clock.

24:31If they complain, remind them the

24:33Emperor is watching. Offer double

24:35rations of amasec [music] after the

24:37shift if you must. Whatever it takes to

24:39keep them in the fields.

24:42The adept bows slightly.

24:44Understood, sir. I shall see to it

24:46immediately.

24:48As he moves to depart, I add in a low

24:50voice,

24:52"Oh, and one more thing. Quietly, ensure

24:55the PDF patrols planet side remain alert

24:59as well. If Bellis or any other neighbor

25:02gets desperate enough to try something

25:05ill-advised, I want advance warning. The

25:08last thing we need is saboteurs in our

25:10own granaries.

25:12Saric blinks, clearly startled by the

25:15suggestion.

25:16Do Do you suspect our fellow Imperial

25:19commanders would stoop to such

25:21treachery?

25:23I fix him with a flat stare.

25:26I suspect they will do whatever they

25:28must to avoid the emperor's wrath, same

25:31as I.

25:32No one is beyond desperate measures

25:34these days, Adept, not out here on the

25:37fringe.

25:39He swallows and nods, chastened.

25:42I will have the PDF on high alert,

25:44Governor.

25:46Good. Dismissed.

25:48Saric hurries out, data pad clutched

25:51tightly as if my words put the fear of

25:53the emperor in him.

25:55Perhaps they did. If so, good. I need

25:57every person under me vigilant.

26:00We've come too far to be undone by

26:02complacency or naive faith in the

26:05goodwill of our peers.

26:07There is no such thing as goodwill

26:09between worlds when survival is on the

26:11line.

26:12Alone now in the echoing chamber, I step

26:15over to a narrow slit of a window behind

26:17the head of the table. It overlooks the

26:20eastern plains, emerald rows of crops

26:22under the morning sun, shimmering

26:24slightly from the heat. Small specs of

26:27labor units and machinery move in neat

26:30patterns. From this distance, it all

26:32looks peaceful, idyllic even.

26:35A perfect hollow image of an agri world

26:38dutifully feeding the Imperium.

26:41My eyes drift to a faint haze on the far

26:44horizon.

26:45That's where the fields of Delta stretch

26:48out, where a thousand men and women now

26:51labor double time to make up lost

26:53ground.

26:55How many of them will collapse from

26:56exhaustion today?

26:58How many will lose a limb to an

27:00overseer's shock prod for lagging or

27:03fall into a thresher because fatigue

27:05slowed their reflexes?

27:08I rub the bridge of my nose.

27:10Acceptable losses, the Administratum

27:12calls them. As long as the grain gets

27:15harvested, individual workers are as

27:17replaceable as cog wheels in a grinding

27:20machine.

27:21I tell myself that I do care about those

27:23lives, that unlike some lordlings, I

27:26don't view my people as just numbers.

27:29I grew up among them in these very

27:32fields.

27:33I know their lot.

27:34Thrown, I even bled with them in the

27:36trenches when pirates landed on our

27:38shores a decade ago.

27:41But what I care about most, what I must

27:43care about, is keeping Boonehaven

27:46productive and safe from the Imperium's

27:48punishment.

27:49If that means a few more broken backs

27:51and shallow graves each season, so be

27:54it.

27:55Better a few hundred dead of overwork

27:57here than billions starve on a hive

27:59world because we held back.

28:02I realize my hands have clenched into

28:04fists on the window sill.

28:06I force myself to relax them.

28:09I can't afford these thoughts right now.

28:12Pity, regret, they sap focus.

28:15And I have work to do.

28:18Tithe day is in two weeks. Between now

28:21[music] and then, I intend for

28:23Boonehaven to exceed every expectation.

28:26By the time the Administratum tallies

28:28this harvest, they'll see our numbers

28:31shining green and gold on their reports,

28:34a beacon of productivity in a void of

28:36insufficiency.

28:38They won't know what strings I pulled,

28:40what blood I spilled, or bargains I

28:43struck to make it so.

28:45They won't care, either, so long as the

28:47quotas are met.

28:49With one last glance out at the

28:51deceptive calm of the fields, I turn on

28:54my heel and leave the briefing chamber.

28:57I have a sector to feed, a planet to

28:59save, and only my wits and ruthlessness

29:02to see it done.

29:04Noonday sun finds me in the back of a

29:06rattling open-top truck, bouncing along

29:09a dirt road toward Zone Delta. A squad

29:13of my Planetary Defense Force escorts

29:16me, their olive drab uniforms and

29:19lasrifles incongruous amid the pastoral

29:23scenery.

29:24Ahead of us, towering harvester machines

29:27lumber slowly through the fields,

29:29kicking up clouds of chaff and dust.

29:33These leviathans are the pride of Boon

29:35Haven's agriculture, each a 100-m long

29:38behemoth of grinding gears, rotating

29:41threshers, and vacuum pumps sucking up

29:44grain.

29:45When they are all operational, they can

29:47reap entire square kilometers in a day.

29:51But today, one of the leviathans lies

29:53idle, looming above the crops like a

29:55fallen giant.

29:57We pull up to the disabled harvester.

30:00Its rust-red hull is partly

30:02disassembled. Cranes and scaffolds

30:05surround it as a team of tech-priests

30:07and engineseers attend to its innards.

30:10The air hums with the cant of the

30:12Omnissiah, binary verses echoing from

30:15vox grills as the Mechanicus adepts coax

30:18the machine spirit back to life.

30:21The acrid stench of burnt wiring and

30:23scorched metal hangs in the air. The

30:26main turbine housing is blackened,

30:28likely where the overload occurred.

30:30Magos Veneris, the lead tech-priest of

30:34our Agromechanica, breaks away from the

30:36cluster of robed engineers and

30:39approaches me. His lower face is hidden

30:41behind a rebreather unit, eyes obscured

30:44by telescoping augmetic lenses, and

30:47multiple mechadendrites drift around him

30:50like curious metallic serpents.

30:52Dried blood-red robes drape his

30:55augmented frame. "Magos." I greet him,

30:59raising my voice above the clatter of

31:01portable generators and servo tools.

31:04"How fares the machine spirit?"

31:07Magos Veneris emits a burst of static

31:09from a vox implant before switching to

31:12Gothic.

31:13"Governor, the Omnissiah grace is being

31:16entreated. Repairs progress. The turbine

31:20suffered significant damage when the

31:22coolant regulators failed. Replacement

31:25components are being fitted as we

31:27speak." He speaks in the flat,

31:29affectless tone common to those more

31:32metal than flesh.

31:34I can't read anything from his modulated

31:36voice, so I press.

31:39"How long until this harvester is

31:41operational?"

31:43A pause, perhaps consulting internal

31:45calculations.

31:47"Barring further complications,

31:49approximately 6 hours, 23 minutes, and

31:5212 seconds, give or take mechanical

31:55variants."

31:57I nod. That would put it back online by

31:59evening. Not ideal, but better than a

32:02total loss for the day.

32:04"Acceptable. Ensure it is done, Magos.

32:07Every minute it stands idle is bushels

32:10lost."

32:11His head twitches, a lens refocusing.

32:14"This vessel shall resume its divine

32:17labor as soon as ritually possible."

32:20There might have [music] been a hint of

32:21irritation in his tone at my prodding,

32:24but it's hard to tell.

32:26Tech-priests don't appreciate laymen

32:28questioning their timelines.

32:31I let my eyes wander over the scene.

32:34Workers in sweat-stained coveralls stand

32:36in clusters at the edges of the field,

32:39taking the chance to catch their breath

32:41while the machine is down.

32:43A few glance nervously our way. An armed

32:47PDF escort and the governor's sudden

32:49arrival rarely mean good news on the

32:52ground.

32:53Further out, other harvesters continue

32:55their slow crawl, shearing golden crops

32:58and piping them into their storage

33:00tanks.

33:01Overseers on hoverbikes flit around

33:04them, watching for any breakdowns or

33:06lagging laborers trying to snatch a

33:08moment's rest in the rows. The crop here

33:11is a type of high-yield barley

33:13engineered for two harvests per standard

33:15year.

33:16It's hardy, but the soil in Delta is

33:19exhausted. [music]

33:20Even to my untrained eye, the stalks

33:23look stunted, more brown than green. As

33:26I survey the fields, one of my guards

33:28approaches, pressing a hand to the vox

33:31bead in his ear.

33:33"Sir, patrol units report a patch of

33:35blight up ahead in subsector Delta 7.

33:39The crops are wilting and blackening.

33:41Looks like a fungal rot outbreak.

33:44They're requesting instructions."

33:46I feel a jolt of alarm. Blight, just

33:49what we need. Likely a result of

33:52overworked soil and high humidity. Such

33:55infections can spread like wildfire

33:58through monocrop fields if not

34:00contained. I stride toward a nearby

34:03flatbed truck. "Margos, we have a blight

34:06sighting in these fields. Have your

34:08servitors load incendiary units."

34:12The tech priest swivels to face me

34:14fully.

34:15"Protocol for containment of blight

34:17theta strain is incineration of affected

34:20area with a 50-m buffer, followed by

34:23chemical purging of soil." he intones.

34:27"Exactly. We'll burn it out before it

34:29spreads." I say.

34:31I climb onto the back of the flatbed and

34:33motion two PDF troopers to join. They

34:37clamber up, one manning a mounted

34:39flamethrower unit fixed to the truck

34:42bed.

34:43Another checking spare promethium

34:45canisters. Within minutes,

34:47>> [music]

34:47>> our makeshift fire crew is moving out.

34:50The flatbed rumbles through rows of

34:52barley, bouncing over uneven furrows.

34:56Ahead I see the telltale signs of the

34:59blight. A swath of crops withered

35:01[music] and blackened, as if a shadow

35:04lies upon them.

35:05Even some of the soil looks ashen.

35:08A sickly sweet odor wafts on the breeze.

35:12Rot.

35:13A few workers linger near the edges of

35:15the patch, shifting uneasily and

35:17reluctant to get closer.

35:19They see our truck approaching with

35:21uniform soldiers and the governor

35:24aboard, and they back away with bows or

35:27salutes.

35:28I jump down from the flatbed and

35:30approach the blighted crops on foot.

35:33Flies buzz around the decaying husks of

35:35what were healthy plants days ago.

35:38I crouch and run a gloved hand over a

35:41stalk. It crumbles into black paste at a

35:44touch.

35:45"Damn it." An overseer jogs up, a

35:48bandana over his mouth.

35:51"Governor, we only noticed it this

35:53morning. It must have spread overnight."

35:55he stammers. "We were about to report,

35:57but "You did well to stop and report it

36:00now." I cut him off. "We're going to

36:02purge it immediately."

36:04The overseer nods rapidly, backing away

36:07as my PDF trooper hops off the truck

36:10with the flamethrower assembly strapped

36:12into a harness.

36:14Another soldier shoulders a spare fuel

36:16tank. The trooper dons his respirator

36:19and awaits my command. At the periphery,

36:22I catch a cluster of farmhands

36:24murmuring. One elderly man steps

36:26forward, wringing a cap in his gnarled

36:29hands. "My lord governor," he calls out

36:32in a quavering voice. "Begging pardon,

36:35sir, but does it have to be done? That

36:37there's a whole acre of good crop,

36:39mostly. We could try cutting the black

36:42parts out instead. The yield loss

36:45I raise a hand sharply. "Old-timer, if

36:48we hesitate, this black part will

36:50overrun every field from here to the

36:53river. We burn it now. That's an order."

36:57He opens his mouth as if to protest

36:59further, but one glare from me and the

37:02intimidating step forward of a PDF guard

37:06silences him. He bows his head,

37:08clutching his cap.

37:10"I, sir, Emperor protects," he mumbles,

37:13voice breaking. "Emperor protects those

37:16who protect themselves," I mutter, then

37:19gesture to the trooper. "Do it. Burn it

37:22all." With a whoosh and a roar, a jet of

37:26flaming Promethium gouts out from the

37:28nozzle. The trooper sweeps it

37:30methodically across the infected zone.

37:33Hungry fire licks up the stalks, racing

37:36along the rows. Within moments, an

37:39entire acre is ablaze, orange flames

37:42devouring blackened plants and healthy

37:44ones alike.

37:46The heat blasts against us. Even

37:49standing back at a safe distance, I

37:51shield my face with my arm. The workers

37:54cry out. Some in dismay at the

37:56destruction, others offering shouted

37:59litanies. "Emperor, purify this land,"

38:02one voice chants. Another voice rises in

38:05a rough hymn, and a few join in, words

38:08trembling but resolute. "Though famine

38:11stalks and plague devours, we toil in

38:15fields as daylight hours. By his light

38:18and by his hand, our harvest feeds his

38:21sacred land. A simple farmer's hymn I've

38:24heard since childhood. They sing to

38:27muster courage when things go wrong.

38:30I let them sing.

38:31The cracked voices merge with the roar

38:33of the flames, a grim choir accompanying

38:37the cleansing fire.

38:39Within 10 minutes, the patch and a wide

38:41margin around it are reduced to charred

38:44stubble and smoking earth.

38:46What was an acre of grain now smolders

38:49as black ash.

38:51A total loss for this section, but the

38:53blight should be contained. The flame

38:55trooper douses a few lingering flickers

38:58at the edges, then steps back sweating

39:01inside his insulated gear.

39:03The overseer gives the all clear sign.

39:07I exhale slowly, a tightness in my chest

39:10loosening as I force myself to breathe

39:13normally again.

39:14How many bushels did we just sacrifice?

39:17Hundreds at least. [music]

39:19But better to lose a few hundred than

39:21tens of thousands. One more hard

39:23decision in a long line of them.

39:26Overseer, quarantine this plot and mark

39:29it for soil treatment. No planting here

39:32until the Mechanicus rights cleanse the

39:34fungus.

39:35I order.

39:36Yes, Governor. He says hoarsely. The old

39:39man who pleaded earlier is quietly

39:42weeping, tears carving lines through the

39:44dust on his face as he watches the last

39:47embers die.

39:48I approach and place a hand on his bony

39:50shoulder. He flinches expecting a rebuke

39:53or worse.

39:55Instead, I keep my voice low so only he

39:58hears.

39:59I know what it cost, old one. I grew up

40:01on this land, too.

40:03But if we hadn't done it, the whole farm

40:05would be lost. You understand?

40:08He looks up at me with rheumy eyes,

40:10surprise evident. Perhaps he expected me

40:13to yell.

40:14Instead, my words sink in and he bobs

40:17his head. I I I do, my lord. Forgive me.

40:22Thank you for saving the rest, I reckon.

40:25I give his shoulder a brief squeeze, a

40:27rare gesture from me.

40:29Get back to the others. There's a lot

40:31more still standing that needs

40:33harvesting. We'll make up this loss. You

40:36have my word. He manages a toothless

40:39smile and shuffles off with a bit more

40:41purpose in his gait.

40:43A small lie, perhaps. I can't personally

40:46guarantee we'll make up anything, but a

40:48little resolve in a worker's heart might

40:51go a long way. Climbing back onto the

40:54flatbed truck, I signal the team to

40:56return to the repair site.

40:59The PDF troopers pile in, the

41:01flamethrower's nozzle still dripping

41:04flaming residue until a soldier caps it.

41:07As we drive away from the scorched

41:09patch, I catch sight of two tech-adepts

41:12moving in with sprayer canisters,

41:15already beginning to coat the soil in

41:17neutralizing foam and blessed chemicals.

41:21Efficient, as always.

41:23The ride back is quiet. The men seem

41:26awed or unsettled by the sudden violence

41:29of the purge. For me, it was a necessary

41:32bit of midday housecleaning, another

41:34entry in the long ledger of sacrifices

41:37for the greater good. By the time we

41:39return to the crippled harvester, word

41:42comes that it's nearly fixed.

41:44I decide to stay until I see it

41:46operational with my own eyes.

41:49The hours stretch on, the sun beating

41:51down mercilessly.

41:53I pace in the slim shade of a servo

41:55crane, wiping sweat from my brow,

41:58trading occasional words with Colonel

42:00Voss, the PDF officer overseeing

42:03security here, to ensure perimeter scans

42:07show nothing out of the ordinary.

42:09At last, as afternoon wanes, Magos

42:12Veneris's adepts give a triumphant

42:15machine howl, and the great harvester's

42:17turbine roars to life. The gigantic

42:20treads begin to turn. The reaper blades

42:23spin up with a metallic whine. In a few

42:25minutes, the leviathan crawls forward

42:28once more, chomping into the uncut

42:30barley rows like a hungry steel beast.

42:33I allow myself a tight smile of relief.

42:36"Excellent work, Magos." I command

42:39Veneris over the din.

42:41"The Omnissiah smiles on your efforts."

42:44The Magos simply inclines his head, the

42:47lenses of his eyes reflecting the glare

42:49of gear and sun.

42:51"Praise the Omnissiah. The rhythm of

42:53harvest proceeds."

42:55Without further ado, he and his cohorts

42:58turn back to their duties, perhaps

43:00already forgetting the human interaction

43:03now that their task is done.

43:05I don't forget, though.

43:07Today has been costly in time, in crop,

43:11in morale, but we recovered. The blight

43:14is contained. The machine is running.

43:17Crisis managed for now.

43:19I signal my driver that I'm ready to

43:21head back to the estate. The work crews

43:24are already swarming back into the

43:26fields as the harvester resumes its

43:29crawl, their brief respite over.

43:32Whips crack and voices drone hymns to

43:35keep rhythm as they struggle to catch up

43:37on the day's lost hours.

43:39They will toil late into the night

43:41beneath floodlights to make up for the

43:43outage and the burned acre.

43:45I'll see to it they get extra rations

43:47for supper.

43:49Emperor knows they'll need the energy.

43:51And Emperor knows we need them to give

43:53every last drop of sweat they have.

43:56On the ride back, I gaze out over the

43:59seemingly endless fields of grain, now

44:02tinged golden by the lowering sun.

44:05Plumes of smoke from the burned patch

44:08still mar the horizon with a smudge of

44:11gray. Another scar on Boone Haven's

44:14landscape in service to the Imperium.

44:18Our convoy passes a small wooden shrine

44:21erected at a crossroads. A humble thing

44:24bearing the Imperial Aquila and a

44:27figurine of Saint Solace, patron of

44:30harvests.

44:31As we roll by, I notice a cluster of

44:34farm children, maybe 10 or 12 years old,

44:38kneeling there. Perhaps praying for a

44:40good yield or giving thanks that the

44:43blight was stopped. Thin, sunburnt kids

44:46who should be worrying about school

44:48work, but are instead already pressed

44:51into minor chores like rodent catching

44:54or weed pulling.

44:55They look up at our vehicles, faces

44:58blank and curious.

45:00One boy raises his hand in a hesitant

45:02wave. I find myself returning a slight

45:05nod the shrine fades into the dust

45:08behind us.

45:09Part of me wants to stop, to tell those

45:12children to hurry home, that they

45:14shouldn't be out in the heat.

45:16But I know they have quotas of their

45:18own. Every village, every family does

45:21their part.

45:22And one day those children will grow up

45:24and take the places of the men and women

45:27bending their backs in the fields now.

45:30The cycle continues until their bodies

45:32give out and they are replaced in turn.

45:36Emperor willing,

45:37>> [music]

45:37>> there will always be more hands to sow

45:39and reap. If not, well, that's why the

45:43Administratum ships whole populations

45:46between worlds when needed. I push these

45:49maudlin thoughts away as the estate's

45:52walls [music] come into view once more.

45:54There is no time for sentiment. I have

45:57to check in with Adept Saraq, see what

46:00fresh crises or orders have arrived in

46:02my absence? Every hour brings us closer

46:06to the tithe collection, and I can't

46:08afford any more surprises.

46:10Not if I intend to survive this season

46:13with my head still attached to my neck.

46:16Night falls hard and hot.

46:18A damp heaviness hangs in the air as I

46:21sit in my private study, a single lumen

46:24lamp casting flickers across piles of

46:26cogitator printouts and parchment on my

46:29desk.

46:30The windows are open to catch a rare

46:32breeze, but only the chirr of nocturnal

46:35insects drifts in from the dark.

46:38In the sky to the far galactic east, a

46:41ghastly purple smear of unnatural light,

46:44the distant Great Rift, stains the

46:46heavens.

46:48Even here, its presence is felt, a

46:50reminder of how thin the veil of

46:52security truly is.

46:55Boonehaven's twin moons are new tonight,

46:58leaving the fields beyond my estate

47:01shrouded in blackness. I rub my eyes and

47:04take a sip of amasec from a tin cup,

47:07the last of a bottle I'd opened at the

47:10start of this hellish week.

47:12The liquor burns my throat, but does

47:15little to soothe the knot of tension in

47:17my gut.

47:18On the desk before me lies the latest

47:21correspondence from sector command,

47:23decoded by my astropath an hour ago.

47:27I read it again, though the words are

47:29seared into memory.

47:31Sector output down 4% from prior year.

47:35All agri-world governors to implement

47:38emergency measures to rectify shortfall.

47:41Tithes will be met, no exceptions. The

47:44emperor demands no less.

47:46No signature needed, the tone says it

47:49all. A faceless clerk on some distant

47:52[music] star passing along pressure from

47:54on high.

47:55Even in the aftermath of the Noctis

47:58Eterna blackout, the Imperium's appetite

48:01is undiminished. They won't accept that

48:03warp storms and wars have made our jobs

48:06nearly impossible. They'll only see that

48:09minus four percent and demand we bleed

48:12to fix it.

48:13I crumple the printout and toss it

48:15aside.

48:16Emergency measures, as if we haven't

48:19been in a state of emergency all year.

48:22My gaze drifts to a cracked picture

48:24frame on a shelf, an old photo of my

48:27father taken when he wore the very

48:29mantle I do now.

48:31In the picture, his face is stern, but

48:33there's a hint of pride as he stands in

48:36a field of ripe crops during a more

48:39bountiful era.

48:41Governor Molden Corst, smiling for the

48:44Administratum cameras, reassuring the

48:46sector that Boon Haven would feed them.

48:49I wonder, did he see the end coming?

48:52When the yields started to dip and the

48:54quotas kept rising, did he know it would

48:57cost him his life?

48:59They called it an honorable removal due

49:01to failure of duty, a bureaucrat's

49:04euphemism for execution.

49:07For a moment, memory overtakes me.

49:09I see myself as I was that day, [music]

49:12stepping off a shuttle onto Boon Haven's

49:14soil under a slate gray sky.

49:18I had rushed home, frantic after

49:20receiving the terse astropathic message

49:22of father's removal.

49:25The air felt cold and alien without him

49:27in it.

49:28I remember striding into this very

49:30estate, past staff with red-rimmed eyes

49:34who couldn't meet mine.

49:36In the grand hall, they had draped a

49:37black cloth over the governor's seat, my

49:40father's seat. An Administratum official

49:44awaited me there,

49:45Overseer Hallex, a pallid little man

49:48with ink-stained fingers and a vox

49:50thief's rasp of a voice.

49:53He barely let me speak before he read

49:55out the decree.

49:56Governor Malden Corst, removed for

49:59dereliction of duty to the throne.

50:01Removed, as if he'd simply been

50:03reassigned. The reality was made clear

50:06when two servitors wheeled out a simple

50:08wooden coffin and set it at my feet. I

50:11recall how my hands trembled as I

50:14reached to lift the lid.

50:16Halex snapped that it was sealed on

50:18orders, not to be opened.

50:20Perhaps it was mercy. I never saw my

50:23father's broken body.

50:25Instead, I was handed a data slate

50:27detailing Boon Haven's output deficit

50:30under his tenure, the grievous shortfall

50:33that had sealed his fate.

50:35Halex wasted no time fixing me with his

50:38beady eyes and saying, "Young man, the

50:41emperor is forgiving, but the Imperium

50:44is not.

50:45You have been found worthy to inherit

50:47the governorship, provisionally."

50:50I can still hear the smug bureaucratic

50:53menace in his tone. An Adeptus Arbites

50:56Magistrate looming behind him added a

50:58cold exhortation from scripture.

51:01"When the people forget their duty, they

51:03become less than beasts."

51:06It was as much a warning to me as an

51:08epitaph for my father.

51:11Halex continued,

51:13"Deliver the next tithe in full, without

51:16exception, or your world will be

51:18declared in violation of Imperial law.

51:21The punishment for such is extermination

51:24of the line, your family, and possibly

51:27the planet's population as well, should

51:30willful neglect be deemed the cause."

51:33I was too stunned to speak, too numb

51:35even to grieve as I should. When I

51:38finally found my voice, I asked only,

51:41"May I at least know, was it quick?"

51:44Overseer Halex sniffed, unimpressed by

51:47the question. "He met his fate with

51:50dignity." was all he offered. I had

51:53wanted to scream, to break the man's

51:55thin neck for his callousness, but my

51:58body felt locked in ice.

52:00The rest of that day passed in a blur,

52:03signing the papers of succession,

52:05swearing oaths before a skull-faced

52:08Arbites judge, receiving the governor's

52:11signet ring from Halix as if it burned

52:14his fingers. I stood in the courtyard as

52:17they lowered my father's coffin into the

52:19earth beside my late mother's. Just

52:22myself and a silent Mechanicus mortician

52:25attending.

52:27No state funeral, no ceremony. Nothing

52:30but a cold drizzle and my promises

52:32whispered through clenched teeth.

52:35I promised him then I would not let this

52:37world falter again.

52:39I would not let the Administratum or

52:41anyone cut down another cast for

52:44failure.

52:45I begged the Emperor for the strength to

52:47do what my father could not.

52:50In the years since that promise has

52:52become my armor, even as the memories

52:55threaten to overwhelm me. I force them

52:57back into the recesses of my mind.

53:00My fist clenches around the amasec

53:02[music] cup. I didn't even have time to

53:05mourn him. I barely remember the sound

53:08of his voice comforting me on those

53:10long-ago evenings when I was a boy

53:12helping him tally quotas by candle

53:15light. Now I only hear the curt recorded

53:18announcement of his sentence.

53:20I swore that day I would never let the

53:22Imperium or its agents put a noose

53:25around my neck as they did to him.

53:28Whatever it takes, I'll meet their

53:30demands. I'll protect our world, our

53:33people as he tried to. Only I will not

53:36fail.

53:37The wall-mounted vox unit crackles

53:39suddenly, jarring me from my thoughts.

53:42Security to Governor, come in. It's

53:45Colonel Voss. His voice urgent and tinny

53:48through the grill.

53:49I snatch up the receiver. Kast here, go

53:52ahead.

53:53Sir, perimeter sensors tripped near silo

53:56complex three, the north fields. We have

53:59multiple contacts, unknown personnel

54:02breaching the storage compound. Shots

54:04fired.

54:05My heart seizes for a beat, then starts

54:08[music] thudding.

54:09I'm on my way. Voss, contain them. Do

54:12not let them near the silos.

54:14Yes, Governor. We're engaging now.

54:17A burst of static and what might be

54:19lasgun discharges cut off the

54:22transmission.

54:23I yank open a desk drawer and retrieve

54:25my sidearm, an old but well-kept

54:28laspistol, and sprint out into the

54:30corridor. My personal guards fall in

54:33with me as I bark orders.

54:36Intruders at silo three. Sound level two

54:39security alert. Mobilize reserve squads

54:42to the north fields now.

54:44Klaxon alarms begin to wail through the

54:47estate halls, accompanied by the

54:49strobing amber glow of warning lights.

54:52Servitors pause in their endless

54:54polishing and data carrying to intone

54:57security alert in monotone as I pass.

55:01I take the steps two at a time and burst

55:04out into the humid night air at the

55:06vehicle depot.

55:08Within moments, an armored car screeches

55:10up, the same I rode this morning, now

55:13with a heavy stubber mounted in its

55:15turret and a driver frantic to be

55:18useful.

55:19I climb in, two guards piling in after

55:22me. The engine roars and we tear off

55:25down the gravel path towards silo

55:27complex three.

55:29Outside, searchlights from watchtowers

55:32lance through the darkness, converging

55:34on the distant northern storage yards.

55:37The rhythmic of an auto cannon rolls

55:39across the fields, one of the century

55:41turrets opening up. The intruders must

55:44have triggered serious resistance. We

55:47race past barracks where off-shift

55:49workers mill in confusion at the alarms.

55:52Some point at our vehicle, a few call

55:55out prayers or warnings. They likely

55:58think pirates or rebels are attacking.

56:00Not a common occurrence on Boone Haven,

56:02at least until now. We crest a low hill

56:06and silo three comes into view. A

56:09cluster of massive cylindrical

56:11granaries, silvery in the moonlight,

56:14each as tall as a hab block, connected

56:16by conveyor chutes. It's one of several

56:19such complexes where processed grain is

56:22stored before being loaded onto tithe

56:25shuttles.

56:26Right now, it's floodlights are blazing.

56:29Small figures dart between the silos and

56:31the perimeter fence.

56:33Muzzle flashes stutter in the darkness.

56:36I see a gout of flame, a grenade blast

56:39near the gate. [music]

56:40The driver skids to a halt behind a low

56:43rock berm at the edge of the complex.

56:46"Stay here, sir." one of my guards

56:48insists, but I'm already throwing the

56:50door open to get a better look.

56:52Colonel Voss's voice crackles in my

56:54earpiece now. "Governor, perimeter

56:57secure. We have three intruders down,

57:00one wounded and surrendered. No damage

57:03to silos."

57:05I breathe out a long sigh of relief.

57:09Throne be praised, I step out from

57:11cover, keeping my pistol drawn, and move

57:14forward with my guards flanking me. In

57:17the harsh glare of the floodlights, the

57:20scene clarifies.

57:22Two bodies lie sprawled near the

57:24chain-link fence that encircles the silo

57:27yard. Their dark clothing and gear

57:30suggesting they tried to stay unseen.

57:33Another lies face down not far from the

57:35base of a silo, alarmingly close to one

57:38of the main grain hoppers. That one got

57:41quite far inside before being cut down

57:44by our [music] defenses.

57:45A cluster of PDF soldiers stands

57:49surrounding a kneeling figure just

57:51inside the gate.

57:52The intruder is alive, hands laced

57:55behind his head. Several rifles are

57:58trained on him, and one of my

58:00lieutenants roughly yanks a pack off the

58:02man's back, tossing it aside. The pack

58:05looks to be stuffed with explosive

58:07charges. I stride toward them. "Colonel,

58:11report."

58:13Colonel Voss steps forward, saluting

58:15quickly. He's sweating, and one arm is

58:17streaked with blood from a ragged graze,

58:20but he's standing solid.

58:22"Sir,

58:23four infiltrators detected breaching the

58:25fence. Likely came in a light shuttle

58:28that set down beyond our all specs

58:30range. We found a small cutter craft

58:33camouflaged in the brush a kilometer

58:35north.

58:36They were armed with lascarbines and

58:39carried incendiary charges.

58:41Target was our silos, presumably to

58:44ignite the grain stores. We neutralized

58:47three. One surrendered after being

58:49wounded. No explosives were successfully

58:52set off. Storage is secure."

58:55I nod sharply. "Sabotage.

58:59As suspected." My stomach churns with

59:01relief and rage in equal measure. Relief

59:04that we stopped them. Rage at the

59:07audacity. They tried to burn my harvest,

59:10to doom my world.

59:12My eyes settle on the prisoner.

59:14He's a lanky man, perhaps mid-20s, clad

59:17in dark coveralls with a balaclava style

59:20hood pulled off his face. He has a fresh

59:23bruise on his cheek and holds himself

59:25stiffly, breathing hard. One of his legs

59:28is slick with blood. Looks like a

59:31lasbolt scored his thigh and convinced

59:33him to surrender.

59:35The prisoner's eyes meet mine as I

59:37approach.

59:38In the stark light I see defiance there.

59:42And fear, too.

59:43He knows who I am. The Aquila and skull

59:46emblem on my chest, my bearing, all make

59:50it obvious. "Who are you?" I demand

59:52quietly.

59:54Quiet can be more intimidating than

59:56shouting, especially with a pistol in

59:58hand.

59:59He presses his lips together, refusing

1:00:02to speak.

1:00:03One of my PDF troopers steps forward to

1:00:06smash the butt of his rifle into the

1:00:08man's gut.

1:00:10The prisoner doubles over with a cough

1:00:12of pain.

1:00:13I hold up a hand. "Enough."

1:00:16I crouch slightly to look at him eye to

1:00:18eye.

1:00:19"You came here to destroy Imperial

1:00:22property, to sabotage a tithe.

1:00:25That's high treason. You know the

1:00:27penalty."

1:00:28He coughs, spits to the side. To my

1:00:31surprise, he bares his teeth in a bloody

1:00:34grin. "Do what you want, governor," he

1:00:37rasps, somehow making my title sound

1:00:39like an insult. We all die anyway.

1:00:43Better by you than by starvation."

1:00:46The accent, clipped with a slur on the

1:00:49R, I recognize it.

1:00:52He's not one of mine. Bellis the 14th,

1:00:55no doubt. Cold confirmation of what I

1:00:57already suspected. Governor Arcturus

1:01:00wasted no time returning the favor.

1:01:03"So Arcturus sent you?" I say bluntly.

1:01:07No point in coy games. He either will or

1:01:10won't admit it.

1:01:12The man's grin fades to a sneer.

1:01:15"I don't answer to you."

1:01:17Colonel Voss steps forward angrily.

1:01:19"You'll answer, scum."

1:01:22I stop Voss with a raised hand.

1:01:25Something about the prisoner's first

1:01:27words digs at me. "Better by you than by

1:01:30starvation." he said. As much as I want

1:01:33to brand him a mindless terrorist,

1:01:36there's more there. These aren't xenos

1:01:39or chaos cultists, despite what our

1:01:42official report will claim. They're men

1:01:45from a sister world following orders

1:01:48born of the same desperation.

1:01:51We nearly destroyed each other. And for

1:01:53what?

1:01:54So some pencil-pusher on Terra can check

1:01:57a different box on a ledger?"

1:01:59I holster my pistol and motion the

1:02:01guards to haul the prisoner to his feet.

1:02:04He staggers, unable to put weight on his

1:02:06wounded leg, and two PDF hold him

1:02:09upright.

1:02:10"Listen to me." I say evenly. "Your

1:02:13attempt failed. My silos stand intact.

1:02:17Your comrades are dead. You've

1:02:19accomplished nothing except to dig your

1:02:21own grave.

1:02:23Was it worth it?"

1:02:24He glares at me, chest heaving. "We did

1:02:27what we had to." he bites out. "Can you

1:02:30say the same, governor? How much of what

1:02:32you do is for duty, and how much just to

1:02:35save your own skin?"

1:02:37I feel my jaw clench.

1:02:39"I serve the Imperium and my world.

1:02:42That's all you need to know."

1:02:44A bitter laugh rattles from his throat,

1:02:47and he spits at my boots. A guard moves

1:02:50to club him but I wave him off.

1:02:53"I've heard enough." I sigh.

1:02:55There's no reasoning here that matters.

1:02:58He's a pawn, same as the mercenaries I

1:03:00hired. Two sides of the same coin,

1:03:03striking each other in the dark while

1:03:05the universe watches and laughs. A

1:03:08sudden weariness passes over me. Perhaps

1:03:11it's the late hour or the high of

1:03:13adrenaline crashing, but I feel

1:03:16bone-tired, Tired of the endless

1:03:18hostility, the Imperium's impossible

1:03:21demands that set us at each other's

1:03:23throats.

1:03:24The prisoner takes my silence as

1:03:26weakness.

1:03:28"Go on then." He says quietly. "Do what

1:03:31you're going to do.

1:03:32I'd rather die by an honest firing squad

1:03:35than as fodder for some bureaucrat's

1:03:38quota."

1:03:39His words echo my earlier thoughts about

1:03:41my father. An honest firing squad. As if

1:03:45there's any honesty or honor left in

1:03:47this shadow war of ours. Still, he's

1:03:51made his choice.

1:03:53"Colonel Voss." I say, stepping back.

1:03:56"Take this man and strip whatever intel

1:03:58you can from his gear. Then have him

1:04:00executed. Quietly. No need to make a

1:04:04spectacle. A last bolt to the back of

1:04:06the head will do."

1:04:08The prisoner closes his eyes for a

1:04:10moment, perhaps in relief that it will

1:04:12be quick.

1:04:13Voss salutes.

1:04:15"Yes, Governor." Two soldiers drag the

1:04:18man off. As they pull him away, he

1:04:20snarls one last curse over his shoulder,

1:04:23voice cracking.

1:04:25"Damn you, Karst. The Emperor judges

1:04:28you."

1:04:29I'm left standing amid the aftermath.

1:04:31The flicker of hazard lights, churned

1:04:34mud where boots and blood have mixed.

1:04:37The hulking silos that almost became

1:04:39funeral pyres for my world's hopes. I

1:04:43feel older. As if this night has added a

1:04:46decade to my soul. "Secure the area. Get

1:04:50those bodies out of here." I order

1:04:52curtly. "Sweep for any more surprises.

1:04:55And bring me those incendiary charges

1:04:58they carried. I want our tech adepts to

1:05:01examine them."

1:05:02Voss's men set to work with efficient

1:05:04discipline, moving the dead saboteurs

1:05:07and collecting their gear.

1:05:09I wander a few paces, finding myself at

1:05:12the base of silo number three.

1:05:15I rest a hand against its cool metal

1:05:17flank. Inside, thousands of tons of

1:05:20grain, our lifeblood, our damnation, sit

1:05:24waiting to be shipped out.

1:05:26If those charges had gone off, if just

1:05:29one silo had been breached, the fire

1:05:32could have spread to the entire complex.

1:05:34All our years' toil up in smoke.

1:05:38I find my hand trembling against the

1:05:40metal and clench it into a fist.

1:05:43Too close. The enemy came far too close

1:05:46tonight.

1:05:47Enemy.

1:05:49I almost laugh at that.

1:05:51These weren't orcs or cultists, despite

1:05:54what tomorrow's official incident report

1:05:56will state. They were Imperial subjects

1:05:59like me, following orders born of the

1:06:01same desperation as mine.

1:06:04In the distance, I see a trio of my

1:06:06soldiers march the prisoner into the

1:06:09darkness beyond the floodlights.

1:06:12A single last shot rings out. Then

1:06:15silence.

1:06:16It's done. I force myself to take a

1:06:19long, slow breath, steadying my nerves.

1:06:22There's no time to indulge

1:06:24philosophizing or pity.

1:06:26The saboteurs failed. That is all that

1:06:29matters. My harvest, my duty, remains

1:06:33intact.

1:06:34Whatever moral qualms gnaw at me, I'll

1:06:37feed them to my own sense of

1:06:38righteousness.

1:06:40I'm protecting my people and the

1:06:41Imperium by doing what must be done.

1:06:44If there's damnation in that, I'll face

1:06:46it eventually.

1:06:48But not tonight.

1:06:49Tonight, I still have a world to

1:06:51safeguard. I return to the governor's

1:06:53estate in the pre-dawn hours, long after

1:06:56the alarms have faded and the silo yard

1:06:58is secured.

1:07:00The halls are mostly empty at this hour,

1:07:02save for a few servitors and night shift

1:07:05staff who bow as I pass.

1:07:08My boots drag a bit more than usual over

1:07:10the marble floor. There will be no sleep

1:07:13for me tonight, or rather, this morning.

1:07:17Dawn is less than an hour away, and with

1:07:19it comes the Emperor's gift ceremony and

1:07:22the tithe loading. Ready or not, the day

1:07:25will proceed.

1:07:27Before heading to my chambers to change

1:07:29and prepare, I detour to a small side

1:07:32chapel within the estate.

1:07:35It's a modest sanctum, nothing like the

1:07:37grand cathedral on a hive world, but it

1:07:40houses a gilded Aquila icon and a

1:07:43lectern from which the estate's

1:07:45confessor leads prayers on holy days.

1:07:49At this hushed hour, the chapel is empty

1:07:51and still.

1:07:53The air smells faintly of incense and

1:07:55candle wax, a sharp contrast to the

1:07:58smoke and blood I've been steeped in. I

1:08:00step up to the Aquila and sink to one

1:08:03knee. I'm not a particularly pious man.

1:08:06Practicality has ever taken precedence

1:08:09over dogma, but I was raised to honor

1:08:11the God Emperor, and in moments like

1:08:13this, instinct carries me here. Perhaps

1:08:16for solace, perhaps out of hope that

1:08:19someone, somewhere, is listening.

1:08:21"Lord Emperor, give me strength." I

1:08:24murmur, voice low in the silence.

1:08:28My words echo softly off stone walls.

1:08:32"Guide my hand that I might protect

1:08:35these people, your people.

1:08:38Protect us from famine, from plague,

1:08:41from war."

1:08:43I falter, swallowing hard. The events of

1:08:46the night, the faces of those dead

1:08:48saboteurs, the prisoner's final curse,

1:08:51they swirl in my mind. My eyes fix on

1:08:54the twin-headed eagle as I continue,

1:08:57barely above a whisper.

1:08:59"Judge me as you will in the end,

1:09:02but let us get through this day.

1:09:04Let our harvest be enough.

1:09:06Let my world be spared.

1:09:09I hesitate, then add in a trembling

1:09:12exhale, "Please."

1:09:15I'm not sure what I expect. Some divine

1:09:18whisper of reassurance? A sense of calm

1:09:21descending on me?

1:09:23Nothing of the sort happens. The Aquila

1:09:25stares impassively, gold pinions

1:09:28gleaming in the lantern light.

1:09:31Outside the chapel's arched window, I

1:09:33see the sky beginning to lighten. The

1:09:36sun will rise soon.

1:09:38I bow my head one last time.

1:09:41"The Emperor protects." I finish softly,

1:09:44the age-old benediction tasting strange

1:09:46in my mouth just then.

1:09:49As I rise to leave, my eyes catch on a

1:09:51side alcove where memorial candles

1:09:54flicker around a relief of Saint Solace.

1:09:57There are far more candles than usual.

1:10:00Many of my staff and workers must have

1:10:02come here last night, lighting flames

1:10:05and praying through the small hours that

1:10:07our tithe would succeed.

1:10:10That I would succeed. Those simple,

1:10:13earnest pleas surround me now in each

1:10:15tiny light.

1:10:17I take a taper and light one more candle

1:10:19among them.

1:10:21In that moment, I allow myself a sliver

1:10:23of hope that perhaps, just perhaps,

1:10:26those prayers will be answered. Dawn

1:10:28comes in hues of rose and gold as the

1:10:31tithe ceremony commences at Boonhaven's

1:10:34primary shuttleport.

1:10:36This is the culmination of our year's

1:10:38labor. The moment when our planet's

1:10:40bounty is formally handed over to the

1:10:43Imperium.

1:10:44The port's tarmac stretches wide and

1:10:47flat with three great loading spires

1:10:50rising from it like the trunks of

1:10:52monstrous iron trees. Each spire

1:10:55connects via great flex tubes to orbit,

1:10:58where the massive mass [music] conveyor

1:11:00ships hang in low geostationary orbit,

1:11:03ready to receive our grain. The ships

1:11:06arrived in system 2 days ago and have

1:11:09been idling above us, looming gray

1:11:11silhouettes, even visible in daylight,

1:11:14like distant moons.

1:11:16Now, they await their fill. Hundreds of

1:11:19workers, officials, and PDF personnel

1:11:22are assembled in neat ranks on the

1:11:24field. Most of the laborers wear their

1:11:27best approximations of uniforms, clean

1:11:30tunics emblazoned with the Aquila, many

1:11:33still stained from weeks of harvesting,

1:11:35but freshly laundered for this ceremony.

1:11:38Despite the exhaustion etched on their

1:11:40faces, I see glimmers of pride in some

1:11:44eyes.

1:11:45This day is, after all, the closest

1:11:48thing to a celebration they know.

1:11:50The acknowledgement of their sacrifices.

1:11:53A dais has been set up at the edge of

1:11:56the loading area, draped in deep green

1:11:58cloth, green for Agri-World's, with gold

1:12:02trim. I stand atop it, along with a

1:12:05handful of dignitaries. Adept Sarik is

1:12:09by my side, looking drawn but satisfied

1:12:12as he reviews final inventory scrolls.

1:12:16To my other side is Prelate Orlan, the

1:12:19senior priest of Boone Haven's

1:12:21Ministorum, clad in voluminous robes

1:12:24despite the mounting heat.

1:12:26He clutches a silver censer trailing

1:12:28pungent incense. Its sweet smell wafts

1:12:32around us, battling the underlying odors

1:12:35of machine oil and grain dust. Most

1:12:37notable among the gathering is the

1:12:39off-world official sent to oversee the

1:12:42tithe collection.

1:12:43High Factorum Liviai, a portly woman in

1:12:47Administratum gray, who arrived on the

1:12:50shuttle from the mass conveyor at first

1:12:52light.

1:12:54She stands with her staff a few paces

1:12:55behind me, observing everything with a

1:12:58pinched look of disapproval or perhaps

1:13:00simple boredom.

1:13:02Her vestments bear the sigil of the

1:13:04Departmento Exacta,

1:13:06the division charged with tallying the

1:13:08Emperor's due.

1:13:10I greeted her formally when she landed,

1:13:12presenting the ritual bread and salt of

1:13:15welcome, baked from our own grain, of

1:13:17course. She responded with the bare

1:13:20minimum politeness.

1:13:21These off-world factors rarely have any

1:13:24camaraderie. To them, I'm just one more

1:13:27provincial governor to be measured and

1:13:29found either compliant or lacking.

1:13:32A clarion blares, amplified by vox

1:13:36casters across the port. The ceremony

1:13:39begins. Prelate Orlan steps forward to

1:13:43lead the invocation. He raises his arms

1:13:46high, censer swinging, voice booming

1:13:49with practiced grandeur. "By the glory

1:13:53of him on Earth, the protector of

1:13:55mankind, we commence this blessed

1:13:58offering," he cries.

1:14:00"Let all here give thanks that we are

1:14:02found worthy to serve in this way.

1:14:06Let voices raise in praise of the

1:14:08Emperor, whose guiding hand brings forth

1:14:11the harvest."

1:14:12The crowd responds in unison, a roar of

1:14:15voices. "Praise be to the Emperor."

1:14:19Orlan launches into a lengthy litany

1:14:21extolling the duty of service and the

1:14:24honor of sacrifice. I've heard it dozens

1:14:26of times over the years, yet today each

1:14:29intonation thrums through me with

1:14:31heightened intensity. When he speaks of

1:14:33the sweat of our brows and blood of our

1:14:36veins given unto the Emperor's

1:14:38sustenance, I think of workers

1:14:40collapsing under heavy bushels, of the

1:14:42foreman we hanged, of the saboteur's

1:14:45blood darkening the silo ground last

1:14:48night. Blood of our veins, indeed. I

1:14:51keep my face a mask of reverence

1:14:54throughout, nodding at appropriate

1:14:56beats. High Factorum Livie stands

1:14:59[music]

1:14:59with eyes closed, mouthing along to the

1:15:02familiar cant. Adeptus Soric bows his

1:15:06head piously. At least one person on the

1:15:09dais is less enraptured. Out of the

1:15:12corner of my eye, I catch Cardinal Voss

1:15:15shifting on his feet, likely itching to

1:15:18get on with it.

1:15:20Under his dress uniform, one arm is

1:15:22bandaged from last night's scrape, but

1:15:24he insisted on attending.

1:15:26Finally, the Prelate's sermon winds to a

1:15:29close. He gives a sign for all to kneel.

1:15:32I remain standing as the Emperor's

1:15:34representative on this world, I am

1:15:37symbolically exempt, though I incline my

1:15:39head deeply.

1:15:41The Prelate leads a final prayer.

1:15:43Blessed be the hands that till. Blessed

1:15:46be the hands that reap. Blessed be the

1:15:48lives given [music] so that others may

1:15:50live. Holy Emperor, accept now this

1:15:53bounty from your humble servants. In the

1:15:56name of the father of worlds, we offer

1:15:59this gift.

1:16:00We offer this gift, the crowd echoes.

1:16:04Many then press their foreheads to the

1:16:05ground in prostration. With that cue, I

1:16:08step forward to the vox unit for my

1:16:11part. A scripted speech is prepared.

1:16:14Soric and Orlan labored over the proper

1:16:17phrases,

1:16:18but I barely glance at the parchment. I

1:16:21know what must be said, and I prefer it

1:16:24to sound natural.

1:16:26People of Boonehaven,

1:16:28my voice carries across the hush,

1:16:30amplified, clear, and strong. Today, you

1:16:34have achieved what many thought

1:16:36impossible. In the face of hardship and

1:16:39uncertainty, you have delivered a

1:16:41harvest worthy of our world's proud

1:16:43legacy. I thank you, each and every one,

1:16:47from the plowmen to the factorum clerks,

1:16:50from the youngest runner boy to the

1:16:52eldest overseer. Your faith and your

1:16:54toil honor the emperor." Some scattered

1:16:57cheers, but mostly attentive silence.

1:17:00They hang on my every word. These

1:17:03speeches may be formulaic, but they

1:17:05matter.

1:17:06It's a final morale boost and a moment

1:17:09of communal pride. "This grain," I

1:17:12continue, gesturing toward the looming

1:17:14spires and the cargo lifters beyond,

1:17:18"will sail across the stars. It will

1:17:20become the bread that feeds a besieged

1:17:23hive city on the edge of known space. It

1:17:27will fill the bellies of soldiers

1:17:29fighting in the emperor's wars, giving

1:17:31them strength to smite the alien and the

1:17:34heretic. It will stave off hunger on

1:17:38worlds still reeling from the darkness

1:17:40of the Great Rift. Boone Haven's name

1:17:43will be spoken with gratitude on distant

1:17:45lips because you made this possible."

1:17:48Now, a louder cheer. I catch a few

1:17:51workers exchanging proud grins.

1:17:54A gaunt woman in the front row actually

1:17:57lifts her small child onto her hip so he

1:18:00can see over the crowd. She's nodding

1:18:02along, eyes shining.

1:18:04Thrown, I hope what I said becomes

1:18:07truth, that our grain does save lives.

1:18:10At least then all this, everything,

1:18:13might have some meaning.

1:18:15High Factorum Livia steps up beside me

1:18:19at the vox, as protocol dictates. She

1:18:22clears her throat and speaks in clipped

1:18:24tones.

1:18:25"On behalf of the Adeptus Administratum

1:18:28and the Departmento Exacta, I

1:18:30acknowledge receipt of the tithe from

1:18:32Planetary Governor Corst of Boone

1:18:35Haven."

1:18:36She unfurls a scroll and reads in a

1:18:38droning cadence,

1:18:40"By writ of the Lords of Terror and

1:18:42authority of Segmentum Command, let it

1:18:45be known that Boone Haven, Agri World

1:18:48designation 8-142,

1:18:52does this day render up its tithe grade

1:18:55exactis particular in full compliance

1:18:58with Imperial Edict. The Emperor's grace

1:19:01is evident. Thus is the debt of service

1:19:04paid for this annum.

1:19:07Ave Imperator."

1:19:09"Ave Imperator." All on the dais

1:19:12respond, including me. My voice does not

1:19:15waver. She gives a thin-lipped smile,

1:19:19likely the best approximation of warmth

1:19:21she can muster, then steps back. Her

1:19:24role here concluded for the moment.

1:19:27Before the next phase commences, I turn

1:19:29my attention to a line of young men and

1:19:32women standing off to the side, each

1:19:34wearing the freshly pressed uniforms of

1:19:37the Astra Militarum.

1:19:39They are Boone Haven's tithe of flesh

1:19:42and blood, a newly raised PDF regiment,

1:19:46the Fifth Boone Haven Fusiliers,

1:19:49volunteers earmarked to leave with the

1:19:52grain ships and join the Imperial Guard.

1:19:55Many in the crowd now shift their gaze

1:19:58to these soldiers, some with proud

1:20:01smiles, others with tears held back.

1:20:05In a rare break from protocol, I step

1:20:08down from the dais and approach the

1:20:10assembled recruits.

1:20:12"Be proud," I tell them, pitching my

1:20:14voice to carry.

1:20:15"Today you carry the honor of Boone

1:20:17Haven to the Emperor's wars. Serve him

1:20:20well and know that you go with our

1:20:23gratitude."

1:20:24I raise my hand in a crisp Aquila

1:20:27salute, and Prelate Orlan offers a quick

1:20:30sign of blessing over the group.

1:20:33The lead recruit, a young sergeant not

1:20:35much older than 20, shouts, "For the

1:20:38Emperor and Boon Haven!"

1:20:41His comrades echo it loudly. A ripple of

1:20:44cheers and sobs moves through the

1:20:46onlookers. I notice one girl in the

1:20:48ranks searching the crowd with wet eyes

1:20:51until she locks onto an older couple,

1:20:53her parents, I presume, who stand

1:20:56holding each other for support.

1:20:58The mother lifts a hand in a brave wave.

1:21:01The father nods once, jaw clenched. The

1:21:04girl straightens, resolve hardening her

1:21:06face.

1:21:07Traditionally, on this day, those

1:21:09destined to depart are granted one final

1:21:12feast and a hero's send-off.

1:21:14I make a mental note to ensure these

1:21:16recruits receive parcels of our best

1:21:19food for their journey.

1:21:20Emperor knows what rations await them on

1:21:23distant battlefronts. A few nearby

1:21:25workers step forward spontaneously to

1:21:28press small tokens into the soldiers'

1:21:30hands, locket, hand-carved pendants of

1:21:33the Emperor's sigil,

1:21:35even a tattered field manual passed from

1:21:37a veteran.

1:21:38Our way of giving them pieces of home to

1:21:41carry into the void.

1:21:43"Boon Haven stands with you!" someone

1:21:45shouts, and a hearty cheer follows.

1:21:48I allow the recruits a brief moment to

1:21:50exchange final embraces with family

1:21:52members who rush forward, an indulgence

1:21:56of sentiment the Administratum politely

1:21:58ignores for now.

1:22:00Then, with gentle urging from a

1:22:02commissar in training accompanying them,

1:22:05the young soldiers file off toward

1:22:07awaiting shuttle transport, heads held

1:22:09high even as their loved ones watch with

1:22:12a mix of pride and sorrow.

1:22:15As the last of them disappear into the

1:22:17embarkation bay, I return to the dais.

1:22:21My throat feels tight, but I force it to

1:22:23loosen.

1:22:24That duty done, it's time for the final

1:22:27labor of this day,

1:22:29loading the Emperor's harvest.

1:22:31A series of resounding horn blasts

1:22:34follow, the signal to begin loading.

1:22:37The kneeling workers rise, and an

1:22:38organized frenzy kicks off. Overseers

1:22:42direct crews to their stations. Cargo

1:22:44servitors lumber forward, pushing

1:22:47massive containers of processed grain

1:22:49toward rail-fed conveyor lifts. The

1:22:52crowd disperses with surprising haste,

1:22:55most heading straight to their assigned

1:22:57loading tasks.

1:22:59There is little idle celebration.

1:23:01Everyone knows the schedule is tight to

1:23:04get everything aboard the transports.

1:23:06They'll hold a proper feast or prayer

1:23:08circle tonight after the work is done,

1:23:11but for now, duty still trumps relief.

1:23:15I descend from the dais. My ceremonial

1:23:18part is largely over, but my presence is

1:23:21expected throughout the loading as a

1:23:23formality and to handle any high-level

1:23:25issues.

1:23:27High Factorum Livie accompanies me,

1:23:29flanked by two scribes carrying data

1:23:32slates.

1:23:33We pace toward loading spire two, where

1:23:36a colossal conveyor belt is already

1:23:38rattling to life, carrying its precious

1:23:40cargo upward.

1:23:42Above us, the sky is crisscrossed by the

1:23:45contrails of shuttlecraft.

1:23:48Bulky cargo landers drift down from the

1:23:51orbiting mass conveyors, docking with

1:23:54the tops of the spires to receive grain

1:23:56directly, while smaller lifter units

1:23:59buzz as they ferry sealed container

1:24:02crates upward. It's a ballet of

1:24:04machinery and logistics, one that

1:24:07Boonhavens people have performed many

1:24:09times.

1:24:10But this year, every motion feels like

1:24:12it carries twice the weight.

1:24:14As we walk, Livie scrolls through

1:24:17figures with a critical eye.

1:24:19"Your yield numbers appear to match the

1:24:22advanced manifest, Governor, she notes,

1:24:25despite difficulties your world faced

1:24:27earlier in the year.

1:24:29She's alluding obliquely to the general

1:24:32upheavals after the Great Rift and

1:24:34perhaps to the minor delays we reported

1:24:37during the season, carefully framing

1:24:39them as weather-related or equipment

1:24:41failures with no mention of sabotage.

1:24:45"Yes, Factorum," I reply evenly. "Boon

1:24:48Haven strives always to overcome

1:24:50adversity and meet its obligations. We

1:24:53know the fate of many worlds rides on

1:24:56our shoulders."

1:24:57She gives a curt little hum of approval.

1:25:00"Admirable. I trust next year you'll aim

1:25:03to recuperate any shortfalls incurred

1:25:06sector-wide."

1:25:08She doesn't say it outright, but I catch

1:25:10her meaning. She expects us to help make

1:25:13up for Bellisarius the 14th and others'

1:25:16failings, if asked.

1:25:18I smile diplomatically.

1:25:21"We shall endeavor to exceed even this

1:25:23year's output, Emperor willing."

1:25:26I'm careful to put the onus on the

1:25:27Emperor, implying that if we can't, it's

1:25:30in his hands.

1:25:32The Factorum seems satisfied enough.

1:25:35She doesn't press further.

1:25:37We reach the base of Spire II.

1:25:40The conveyor's hum here is thunderous.

1:25:43Massive hoppers are pouring golden

1:25:45streams of grain onto belts that ascend

1:25:48into the sky.

1:25:49Tech-Adepts monitor the flow, adjusting

1:25:52throughput with calculated precision.

1:25:55I see one of Livia's scribes checking

1:25:57off quantities as a mech arm loads

1:26:00container after container.

1:26:03Suddenly, one of the conveyor engines

1:26:05sputters with a teeth-rattling groan. A

1:26:08belt jolts to a halt, causing grain to

1:26:11spill over the sides in a rustling

1:26:13cascade. Workers shout, rushing to shut

1:26:16valves and redirect the flow as best

1:26:19they can.

1:26:20I see grain piling up around the base of

1:26:23a hopper.

1:26:24Livier shoots me a sharp look. My heart

1:26:27skips. Is something going wrong again?

1:26:30But a red-robed tech-priest is already

1:26:32on it, chanting "Binharic" at the

1:26:34recalcitrant machine and slamming a

1:26:37wrench into a maintenance panel. With a

1:26:39cough of black smoke, the conveyor

1:26:42reactivates, its belt lurching back into

1:26:45motion.

1:26:46Crisis averted. Only a few hundred kilos

1:26:49lost, and those are rapidly being

1:26:51scooped up from the ground by men with

1:26:54pans and suction vacuums to be sent up

1:26:57in the next batch. "Minor technical

1:27:00hiccup," I say smoothly, waving a hand

1:27:03as if unconcerned.

1:27:05Inside, I was coiled tight for that half

1:27:08minute, my nerves still raw from the

1:27:11night's ordeal.

1:27:12Every unexpected jolt feels like the

1:27:15universe testing me. The loading

1:27:17continues apace. One by one, the silos

1:27:20empty their guts into the hungry maws of

1:27:23the starships above.

1:27:25I take Factorum Livii on a tour of the

1:27:28proceedings, if only to keep her under

1:27:30my eye.

1:27:32We inspect grain quality at a sampling

1:27:34station, where a servitor analyzes

1:27:37kernels for any mold or impurity.

1:27:40Thankfully, none. The blight never

1:27:42touched the processed stores.

1:27:44We watch lines of men roll barrel after

1:27:47barrel of nutrient oil, another export,

1:27:50into a lander's hold. We pass by the

1:27:53third spire, where scores of laborers

1:27:56strain to hoist crates of preserved grox

1:27:58meat and pickled algae, secondary

1:28:01products that also form part of our

1:28:03tithe.

1:28:05Every facet of Boonhaven's production is

1:28:07on display, and for the most part, it

1:28:10runs like a well-oiled machine.

1:28:13Underneath the orchestrated chaos, a

1:28:15current of elation slowly builds as each

1:28:19silo's vox horn blares, "Tithe quota

1:28:23filled. Glory to the Emperor." Upon

1:28:25emptying, cheers erupt from the crews.

1:28:29With the finish line in sight, the

1:28:32exhaustion of the past months melts into

1:28:34triumph. I catch numerous workers

1:28:37casting proud glances my way as if to

1:28:40say, "We did it, sir."

1:28:43I permit myself a small nod or a raised

1:28:46hand in acknowledgement whenever I meet

1:28:48those eyes.

1:28:49Though I remain composed before the

1:28:51factorum, inside I feel something akin

1:28:54to pride swelling.

1:28:56Emperor knows these people have earned

1:28:58it. In a matter of hours, the last of

1:29:01the grain is loaded. The final cargo

1:29:04shuttle, fat with our toil, roars as it

1:29:07lifts off from spire three in a wash of

1:29:10heat.

1:29:11All of us on the ground stand back,

1:29:14shielding our faces as the dust whips

1:29:16around. The great vessel [music]

1:29:18ascends, bearing Boon Haven's lifeblood

1:29:21upward to the waiting leviathans in

1:29:24orbit. As the rumble of engines fades, a

1:29:27strange hush falls. It's done. We met

1:29:31our mark. For a moment, there's pure

1:29:33collective relief. Some workers slump to

1:29:36the ground where they stand, laughing or

1:29:40weeping openly. Others embrace or shake

1:29:43hands. I see Prelate Orlan moving

1:29:46through the throng offering blessings

1:29:48and congratulations.

1:29:50Colonel Voss and a cluster of PDF

1:29:52exchange grins of camaraderie. Even

1:29:55Adept Serek permits himself a weary

1:29:58smile in my direction.

1:30:00High Factorum Livia approaches, dusting

1:30:04off her robes fastidiously.

1:30:06Governor Karst, on behalf of the

1:30:08Imperium, I extend formal commendation

1:30:11for a timely and complete tithe. Her

1:30:15tone is officious, but I detect a hint

1:30:17of genuine respect now that the job is

1:30:20done.

1:30:21She produces a data slate from her aide

1:30:23and offers it to me with a stylus.

1:30:26Your authorization code to finalize the

1:30:29transaction, if you please.

1:30:31I take the slate and sign with my

1:30:33governor signet and gene print. With a

1:30:36soft chime, Boon Haven's ledger for the

1:30:39year is closed. Livia accepts the slate

1:30:42back and continues,

1:30:44"This performance will be noted in my

1:30:46report. You have upheld the trust placed

1:30:50in you."

1:30:51Her eyes flick to take in the scene of

1:30:53emptied silos and wearied celebrants.

1:30:57Perhaps some small spark of humanity

1:30:59prompts her to add, "Convey to your

1:31:01population that their work is vital and

1:31:04appreciated by the throne."

1:31:07"I shall, Factorum." I reply graciously.

1:31:10"Safe travels back to Sector Command.

1:31:13May the Emperor light your path through

1:31:15the void."

1:31:16She gives a thin smile, possibly genuine

1:31:19now, and with a final nod signals to her

1:31:23entourage.

1:31:24They head off toward their shuttle,

1:31:26duties here concluded. I'm sure she's

1:31:29eager to be back aboard the conveyor and

1:31:31on to the next assignment. Another

1:31:34world's tithe to tally.

1:31:37In truth, I'm glad to see her go.

1:31:39Boon Haven will receive no further

1:31:41scrutiny for a while, and I can finally

1:31:44breathe freely.

1:31:46Around me, the laborers are dispersing

1:31:48now that the formalities are done. Many

1:31:51head straight to the mess halls or to

1:31:53makeshift shrines to offer personal

1:31:55thanks.

1:31:56I spot the elderly man from Zone Delta,

1:31:59the one who begged me not to burn the

1:32:01crops among those lingering.

1:32:05He catches my eye and raises a hand in a

1:32:07respectful half salute. This time I

1:32:10return it without hesitation.

1:32:12Colonel Voss comes up offering a crisp

1:32:15salute as well.

1:32:17"Sir, the PDF will continue security

1:32:19sweeps around the silos and loading

1:32:21spires until all orbital craft depart."

1:32:25He reports.

1:32:26"But it looks like we're clear. No sign

1:32:29of any trouble."

1:32:31By trouble, he means further sabotage.

1:32:35We kept last night's attempt under

1:32:36wraps. Officially, those dead

1:32:38infiltrators were bandits killed in a

1:32:40maintenance accident. If anyone harbors

1:32:43suspicions, they know better than to

1:32:45voice them.

1:32:46"Understood, Colonel." I nod. "Keep the

1:32:49men vigilant a while longer, then stand

1:32:52them down for some rest. They've earned

1:32:54it. You all have."

1:32:57A rare grin cracks Voss's stern face.

1:33:00"Yes, Governor. Emperor be praised, we

1:33:03pulled it off."

1:33:05He strides off barking new orders with a

1:33:07distinct note of satisfaction in his

1:33:09voice. Adept Sereek approaches next,

1:33:13clutching his ever-present data slate.

1:33:16"Governor, preliminary tallies indicate

1:33:18we have even loaded in excess of 0.6%

1:33:23beyond the exact tithe requirement." He

1:33:26says.

1:33:27One might think his voice incapable of

1:33:29emotion, but I know him well enough to

1:33:31hear the note of triumph.

1:33:34"We had estimated only 0.2%

1:33:37surplus.

1:33:38But thanks to some last minute additions

1:33:40from the reserve stores

1:33:42"From the reserve stores?" I echo

1:33:45quietly, gazing toward the now empty

1:33:47silos.

1:33:49"That's right. Late last night, while

1:33:51others slept, I ordered a portion of our

1:33:54emergency food reserves milled and added

1:33:57to the shipments to ensure we exceeded

1:33:59the quota.

1:34:00It was a calculated risk. Those reserves

1:34:03were meant to carry our own population

1:34:05through lean times. Now they're aboard a

1:34:08ship bound for someone else's table.

1:34:11Sarik follows my line of sight and

1:34:14clears his throat. Yes. Well, a wise

1:34:18decision, Governor. It ensured we not

1:34:20only met but exceeded the quota.

1:34:24Wise, I murmur. I haven't yet decided if

1:34:27it was wisdom or desperation. I wonder

1:34:30how many of my citizens will go hungry

1:34:33in the coming months because of that

1:34:35wise decision.

1:34:37Half rations and tightened belts,

1:34:39certainly.

1:34:40But I'll see to it no one starves. I'll

1:34:43requisition additional supplies via

1:34:45trade or petition the sector for a small

1:34:48relief allotment if I must.

1:34:51Those are worries for tomorrow.

1:34:53Today, at least, we have given

1:34:55everything asked of us.

1:34:57You look tired, Adept, I say to Sarik,

1:35:00noticing the dark circles under his

1:35:02augmetic eye.

1:35:03He's probably been awake as long as I

1:35:05have, collating data non-stop.

1:35:08Go get some rest. The worst is behind

1:35:11us.

1:35:12He bows.

1:35:13Indeed, Governor. I shall after I file

1:35:15the final dispatches.

1:35:17Before leaving, he ventures, This is a

1:35:20great victory, sir. Under the

1:35:21circumstances, quite remarkable.

1:35:24I raise an eyebrow. It's the closest to

1:35:27a compliment I've ever heard from him.

1:35:29I extend my hand and after a half-second

1:35:32surprise, he shakes it.

1:35:34His grip is limp. He's not used to the

1:35:36gesture, but the sentiment matters.

1:35:40We did it together, I tell him. Now get

1:35:42some sleep, Sarik.

1:35:44He departs and I at last find myself

1:35:47largely alone on the tarmac.

1:35:49The sun is high and unforgiving now, but

1:35:52a light breeze has picked up carrying

1:35:54the scent of lingering smoke from the

1:35:56spent fields and a hint of incense from

1:35:59the ceremony.

1:36:01I walk slowly across the open ground,

1:36:04taking it all in one final time. The

1:36:07silos stand empty, their massive gates

1:36:10still open and yawning.

1:36:12They look almost forlorn, like hollow

1:36:15sentinels.

1:36:16By tomorrow, we'll begin cleaning and

1:36:18preparing them for the next cycle, ready

1:36:21or not.

1:36:23My gaze drifts upward.

1:36:25One can just make out the distant glint

1:36:27of the three mass conveyor ships against

1:36:30the pale blue sky.

1:36:32They'll be departing within the hour,

1:36:34bound for distribution hubs deeper in

1:36:36the sector.

1:36:37I imagine our tens of millions of tons

1:36:40of grain within their holds, so much

1:36:43sustenance, enough to feed billions for

1:36:46a brief time.

1:36:47And yet I know, in the grand scale of

1:36:50the Imperium, it is a mere drop in a

1:36:52boundless ocean of need. One of the

1:36:55great ships begins to move, a slow

1:36:57ascent toward the stars. Its engines

1:37:00leave a faint contrail, a white streak

1:37:03climbing heavenward.

1:37:05There it goes, the sum total of all our

1:37:08striving vanishing into the void. A part

1:37:12of me feels strangely hollow watching it

1:37:14leave, as if a piece of Boon Haven's

1:37:17soul rides with that ship.

1:37:19Perhaps it does. A soft sound behind me,

1:37:23a polite cough.

1:37:25I turn to see Prelate Orlan, the old

1:37:27priest, standing with hands clasped. He

1:37:30must have come to offer some final

1:37:32benediction.

1:37:34"Governor," Orlan says warmly, stepping

1:37:36to my side. "Glorious day, is it not?

1:37:40The Emperor has truly blessed our

1:37:42endeavors."

1:37:43"Indeed, Prelate," I reply, managing a

1:37:46small smile.

1:37:47"The Emperor

1:37:49protects." He peers at me as though

1:37:51sensing the weariness and doubt beneath

1:37:54my words. Gently, he says,

1:37:57"You have carried a great burden, my

1:37:59son, and you have done your duty most

1:38:02admirably. You should be proud."

1:38:05Proud? I search myself for that feeling.

1:38:08Yes, there is pride in my people,

1:38:11certainly, in having survived this

1:38:14gauntlet, but pride in myself? Perhaps,

1:38:18but it's entangled with so many other

1:38:20emotions.

1:38:22"I am proud of Boone Haven," I answer

1:38:24diplomatically.

1:38:26Orlan nods, understanding the subtext.

1:38:30He raises a hand in blessing. "May the

1:38:32Emperor grant you rest in peace after

1:38:34your labors. You have upheld the trust

1:38:38placed in you."

1:38:39I bow my head as he intones a short

1:38:42prayer over me.

1:38:43I barely register the words, but the

1:38:45sentiment is comforting in its way.

1:38:48When he finishes, I clasp the old man's

1:38:51hand.

1:38:52"Thank you, Prelate."

1:38:53With a fatherly smile, he retreats,

1:38:56heading off to minister to some kneeling

1:38:58workers giving thanks nearby.

1:39:00I stand alone again, the spaceport

1:39:03mostly cleared now except for security

1:39:06and maintenance crews.

1:39:08The last of the cargo landers detach

1:39:10from the spires with distant rumbles.

1:39:13All around is evidence of strain, oil

1:39:16spills, scorch marks on the tarmac from

1:39:19thrusters, drifts of straw and grain

1:39:21husks littering the ground, a few

1:39:24forgotten tools here and there.

1:39:26It's a mess,

1:39:27but it's our mess, born of honest toil.

1:39:31A sudden wave of exhaustion nearly

1:39:33buckles my knees. I realize I've been

1:39:36running on nerves and adrenaline for so

1:39:38long

1:39:39>> [music]

1:39:39>> that my body is ready to quit on me.

1:39:42I force myself to stay upright at least

1:39:44until I'm out of sight of any onlookers.

1:39:48The thought of my bed beckons. Perhaps

1:39:50the first restful sleep I'll have in

1:39:52months.

1:39:53But I know my mind too well. As soon as

1:39:56I close my eyes, I'll start to worry

1:39:58about next season, about the

1:40:00repercussions of what's happened, about

1:40:03that 0.6%

1:40:04extra we sent off, and what it might

1:40:07mean for us later.

1:40:09I push those thoughts away for now.

1:40:111 hour, 1 minute of victory. I'll allow

1:40:14myself that.

1:40:16Turning toward the vehicles waiting to

1:40:18take me back, I cast one final glance at

1:40:21the horizon.

1:40:23Far beyond sight lies Bellis 14th and

1:40:26the other worlds of our subsector.

1:40:28I wonder what they're feeling right now.

1:40:31Bellis's harvest was likely inadequate.

1:40:34Their governor might even now be facing

1:40:36the censure I so feared. There will be

1:40:38consequences for them. Perhaps demotion,

1:40:41perhaps worse.

1:40:43And though I know Arcturus would have

1:40:45done the same or worse to me, indeed he

1:40:48tried, I find little satisfaction in his

1:40:51plight.

1:40:52We were both just trapped in this vice,

1:40:54and fate, or the Emperor's favor,

1:40:57decided one of us would come out on top

1:40:59this time. This time. It occurs to me

1:41:03that in the grand calculus, nothing was

1:41:06truly solved today.

1:41:08We met our numbers, yes. The

1:41:10Administratum is satisfied for now, but

1:41:13next cycle they'll demand no less,

1:41:15likely even more. Bellis's shortfall

1:41:18might mean we get assigned a higher

1:41:20quota to help compensate. Factorum Livy

1:41:24practically hinted as much. And other

1:41:26disasters can strike. A new plague, a

1:41:29new war.

1:41:31Emperor forbid a full-scale Tyranid

1:41:33swarm descending to devour everything.

1:41:37The struggle will continue unending.

1:41:40I feel a chill despite the heat. In the

1:41:43end, all I've done is bought time for my

1:41:46world, for others. Time for humanity to

1:41:49continue one more day.

1:41:52But in the grim darkness of our reality,

1:41:55sometimes one more day is victory

1:41:57enough.

1:41:58I square my shoulders and make my way to

1:42:01the waiting autocar.

1:42:02The driver snaps to attention and opens

1:42:05the door for me.

1:42:06I pause before ducking inside, taking

1:42:09one last lungful of Boonhaven's heavy,

1:42:12familiar air. It tastes of dust,

1:42:16incense, sweat, and a hint of burnt

1:42:18grain. The smell of survival, bitter and

1:42:22real.

1:42:24As the door closes and the vehicle

1:42:26starts moving, I allow myself to

1:42:28whisper, so quietly that even I can

1:42:31barely hear it.

1:42:32The Emperor protects.

1:42:35This time I'm not sure if it's a

1:42:37statement, a question, or a plea.

1:42:41I lean back against the seat, fatigue

1:42:43washing over me in full.

1:42:46Through the window, the silhouettes of

1:42:47empty silos recede into the distance.

1:42:50Tomorrow, they say, is another day.

1:42:53Another battle against hunger, against

1:42:55quotas, against whatever fresh hell fate

1:42:58throws our way.

1:43:00But that's tomorrow.

1:43:01Today, as rare as it is in this

1:43:03unforgiving Imperium, we fought hunger,

1:43:07and we prevailed. For now, that is

1:43:10enough.

1:43:11I'm just drifting off in the dim cool of

1:43:13my transport, when a sharp rap on the

1:43:16window jolts me. I startle awake. Had I

1:43:19actually dozed off?

1:43:21Outside, Adept Sorik stands fidgeting,

1:43:24his data slate in hand and an apologetic

1:43:27grimace on his [music] face.

1:43:29Reluctantly, I lower the window.

1:43:32What is it?

1:43:33My voice comes out more curt than

1:43:35intended.

1:43:37Soric bows his head.

1:43:39Pardon the intrusion, Governor. An

1:43:42astropathic communique just arrived from

1:43:44Segmentum Command. It carries the

1:43:47highest priority. Of course it does. I

1:43:50swallow an oath and extend my hand for

1:43:53the slate. He places it gingerly in my

1:43:56palm. The screen displays a short

1:43:58message stamped with Administratum

1:44:00sigils.

1:44:02To Governor Cost, Boonehaven.

1:44:04Acknowledge successful tithe. Segmentum

1:44:07Pacificus experiencing widespread agri

1:44:11output deficits. In light of

1:44:13Boonehaven's stability, tithe quota for

1:44:16next cycle increased by plus 5%.

1:44:20Additional output expected to mitigate

1:44:23neighboring shortfalls. The Emperor's

1:44:26will be done.

1:44:27Department Exacta, Segment Pac.

1:44:31I close my eyes. A dry laugh tries to

1:44:34well up in my throat, but I choke it

1:44:36down. So, the reward for our success is

1:44:40a heavier burden. They waste no time.

1:44:44Sir, Soric ventures, worry creasing his

1:44:47brow at my silence.

1:44:49I open my eyes and hand the slate back.

1:44:52My voice comes out astonishingly calm.

1:44:55Acknowledge receipt and inform the agri

1:44:57planners, effective immediately, we're

1:45:00to target a 5% yield increase. He nods,

1:45:04[music] though his shoulders slump ever

1:45:06so slightly.

1:45:08Yes, Governor. It will be done. He

1:45:10hesitates.

1:45:12We will find a way.

1:45:14Yes, I reply, meeting his eye.

1:45:17The fatigue is gone from my tone,

1:45:19replaced by something harder.

1:45:21We will.

1:45:22>> [music]

1:45:22>> Soric departs at a brisk trot, already

1:45:25dictating new orders into his vox. I

1:45:28remain there in the backseat staring out

1:45:31at the blazing noon sky of Boonehaven.

1:45:34No rest for the wicked as the saying

1:45:36goes.

1:45:38And perhaps I am wicked indeed, but I am

1:45:40alive and my world endures. If the price

1:45:44of that is yet another pound of flesh,

1:45:46then so be it.

1:45:48I straighten up and tap on the driver's

1:45:50compartment. "Change of plans." I say

1:45:53quietly. "Take me to the planning

1:45:55auditorium.

1:45:57We have work to do."

1:45:59As the vehicle turns and accelerates, I

1:46:02catch a glimpse of the distant fields

1:46:04through the settling dust. The endless

1:46:06rows of stubble seem to shimmer with

1:46:09heat already awaiting the next planting.

1:46:12A new battle looms on the horizon and I

1:46:15will meet it as I have all others with

1:46:18unwavering resolve. There is no other

1:46:21choice in this life I have chosen or

1:46:23rather that chose me.

1:46:26In the end, to protect Boonehaven, I'll

1:46:28do it all again.

1:46:30Whatever it takes.