Serial Number Conquered World—Universe No. 117 (Halo) ultimately falls under the jurisdiction of the Astartes Second Legion Retributors.
After occupation, aside from the central administrative officials dispatched by the Empire to assume control over administrative and judicial authority, and the Imperial Ministry of Taxation taking over taxation rights, the garrisoning of this universe, partial conscription, public security, and riot suppression would naturally belong to the Second Legion.
Although the Eighth Legion Night Lords under Konrad Curze and the Twelfth Legion World Eaters under Angron had both dispatched their main forces to assist in the campaign, these administrative powers had little to do with them. What they would receive was merely a fixed annual share of this world's output.
This included—but was not limited to—a limited distribution right to the spoils born of conquest; total military production output after this universe established forge worlds; overall material supply from industrial and agricultural worlds; manpower provision from hive worlds and conscription worlds; and a series of related agreements.
Along with supplementary postwar clauses added as necessary.
Even between brothers, accounts must be kept clear.
Moreover, this campaign was essentially Konrad Curze and Angron helping Budo secure his sphere of influence. Naturally, if the two of them had needs in the future—or discovered high-value but particularly tough bones to chew—Budo would personally return the favor.
As for subsequent division of benefits, it was simple—the old method. What you discover, what falls under your Legion's sequence, belongs to you. No one will snatch it away. But the agreement of "sharing the meat and sipping the broth" is mandatory.
This campaign's target is Conquered World—Universe No. 117 of the Retributors Legion. After all, it falls within Budo's future authority. No matter how much Konrad Curze talks, his words are merely advisory. Before Selene directly intervenes and issues administrative orders, Budo's personal opinion is the key.
At this thought, Selene looked at Budo with interest. This old diehard had never clearly expressed his stance on alien races during meetings at the Imperial Capital's military headquarters.
On the contrary, his actions had always been ambiguous—confusing, even.
"Not enough."
After roughly three breaths, Budo shook his head and delivered a statement completely at odds with his iron-blooded image of a soldier who tolerated no rebellion.
"Not enough?" Konrad Curze frowned. "If we relax the bottom line for surrender any further, how are we supposed to control the scale? Our policy toward aliens is already under heavy impeachment in court."
"Let them impeach," Budo replied calmly. "Policy is dead. People are alive."
As he spoke, Budo raised his head toward Selene, choosing his words carefully.
"A sliver of hope merely reduces some resistance. It is not enough—far from enough. The Covenant... this universe may very well be a star region centered around alien species. As for human civilization, our reconnaissance units have yet to return with substantial intelligence."
"Based on current estimates, they are relatively weak—being suppressed by the alien alliance known as the Covenant."
"In that case, are we to cleanse the entire universe in blood? Not that it cannot be done. But the cost would not match the return. Losses would be significant. It would not be worth it."
A chill flickered through Budo's eyes.
"Meanwhile, developing such a vast virgin territory requires enormous quantities of cheap labor, does it not? And in future battlefields, cannon fodder is never too plentiful."
"Therefore, recruiting large numbers of alien races is something we must seriously consider. Those who refuse to listen, those who jump too eagerly—eliminate them. But a blanket extermination is strictly forbidden. In this universe, there are many alien species who have simply tilled their homeworlds their entire lives, never having encountered humanity."
"Your Majesty, this old servant's opinion is this: since we have already opened the door to recruiting alien races, what is the point of being stingy about it? We might as well settle it once and for all. Let this universe serve to establish the true standards for alien recruitment."
"When we discover problems, we solve them. After all..."
As he spoke, Budo rose and dropped to one knee, his gaze firm as he looked at Selene.
"With you presiding over all, what waves could they possibly stir?"
"Oh?"
Selene glanced sideways at Budo, resting her chin on one hand as she gently swirled her wine glass.
"So you've set your sights on me. Who would have thought that even you, Budo—known as an old diehard—could be so slippery?"
"Your Majesty jests. This old servant is ashamed. I merely dare to present a humble opinion."
Still kneeling on one knee with a respectful bow, Budo's expression remained composed, without the slightest embarrassment.
"Those censors call me stubborn. Yet in my view, they are the truly stubborn ones."
"'Military force has no constant formation, water has no constant shape. One who can adapt to the enemy and secure victory is called divine.' If a measure benefits the Empire, use it. If it does not, change it. To cling to dogma, to grow complacent at the slightest achievement—is that not stubbornness?"
Though Budo was obstinate, he was not foolish. His rigidity lay in his unwavering adherence to the creed that 'a soldier must not meddle in governance,' and in his absolute loyalty to the Empress' will.
Beyond that, his moral bottom line was elastic and adaptable. As a battlefield commander, his qualities were unquestionably outstanding.
His iron-blooded discipline in managing troops had never excessively constrained his thinking.
Interestingly enough, when dealing with human groups who shared human form yet differed in customs and culture, Budo's methods were always domineering and violent. Any resistance was met with bloody suppression and cleansing.
Yet toward alien races who surrendered, submitted, and voluntarily offered their loyalty to the Empress, Budo displayed a rather peculiar "tolerance."
Not only would he refrain from launching excessive massacres and purges, he would also assign them work—labor—based on their racial strengths. He would even select elite individuals among them to be incorporated into the Servitor Army, serving as specialized units under certain circumstances.
Yes. A great "benevolent" man indeed.
Of course, Budo was measured. He did not forget his fundamental base. The alien soldiers he selected were always elites—and compared to the human proportion within the military, their numbers were pitifully small.
His trust toward alien races was granted only once—and even then, within limits. Surveillance, both overt and covert, was constant. Should even one individual harbor rebellious intent, collective punishment would follow. Better to kill three thousand by mistake than let one slip through.
Even if it were the children of an alien chieftain who showed signs of treachery—collective execution. Replace them with another batch. Let their own kin serve as execution witnesses.
Those melodramatic soap-opera plot twists often seized during external conquests would never occur under Budo's watch.
Rebellion again?
Then extinction.
At this point, an interesting phenomenon must be mentioned. Among the Astartes Legion factions known as the hawks, the scale of alien auxiliary legions was far greater than among the so-called conscience-oriented Legions.
Under the conscience-oriented Legions, human civilians generally lived better lives than under hawkish Legions—but for alien races, it was the opposite.
Under conscience-oriented command, aside from a few humanoid species closely resembling humanity, alien races whose appearance diverged too far from human form suffered greatly.
And because of Budo's "merciful" measures, even though he was nominally the second-ranking figure within the Imperial military, he attracted significant controversy—along with impeachment from censors and remonstrators alike.
They called him a "traitor to humanity."
In response, Selene chose to withhold judgment.
Because she had once received a memorial from Budo. In it, he had subtly suggested that indiscriminate extermination in external campaigns was unwise. He recounted portions of his own experiences and perspectives.
After so long waging wars of conquest beyond the Empire's borders, he had discovered that the living races of the universe were like the stars in the sea of galaxies—seemingly endless. Humanity was but a drop in the vast ocean.
In particular, one sentence of his had struck her deeply:
"Your Majesty, you are not only the God-Empress of humanity—you should also be the God-Empress of all races."
That line had pierced straight into Selene's heart.
Romance between men and women held little interest for her—indeed, she was largely indifferent to it. But when it came to glory and authority? Then she was wide awake.
"Your Majesty," Budo continued, "within my Legion there are several small formations composed of alien races. In previous engagements, according to observation, their combat will has been tenacious. They do not fear death. They are in no way inferior to human soldiers—indeed, in some cases they surpass them..."
"Zeal of the convert," Selene murmured.
She looked toward Budo.
"Show me their combat records."
"Yes!"
Rising and stepping before Budo, Selene took the magnetic data card from his hand. The authority of the Herrscher of Reason activated.
Within the real-time reconstructed footage unfolding in her mind, amidst a city reduced to ruins of blood and fire, a group of soldiers wearing Imperial uniforms—grotesque and malformed in appearance, some bearing scales or keratinous armor, some with four arms and two legs, others possessing distinct animalistic traits—charged forward while roaring:
"Long live the Empire!"
"Long live Her Majesty the Empress!"
And... well.
They were slaughtering humans.
Presumably some human world currently being conquered.
Clicking her tongue lightly, Selene noted that their pronunciation was crisp and precise—perfect Standard Imperial.
This might make those humans think the Empire is some alien nation. An alien invasion, perhaps.
After swiftly reviewing everything, Selene confirmed her assessment.
It was indeed the zeal of converts.
Whether fighting alien civilizations of their own kind or human civilizations, these incorporated alien races fought fiercely—truly ferocious, refusing to retreat even unto death.
Selene roughly understood their mentality.
Put in religious terms, new converts are often more fanatical and devout than long-standing believers.
There were several likely reasons: a psychology of "atonement," the desire to prove oneself and gain recognition within a new collective, or the wish to sever all ties with one's past.
Human history had no shortage of such examples. Some often cared more about their citizenship status than natives did, even rejecting their original identity more vehemently. During the era of the Emancipation Proclamation, black servants elevated to the position of house steward sometimes treated their fellow blacks even more harshly than their masters had.
Selene nodded politely to Budo, signaling him to rise.
"In that case, I will need to make certain adjustments to our policies."
The saying "Those not of our race must harbor different hearts" was not necessarily absolute truth.
She had been somewhat bound by experience.
Her Empire did not exist in an environment as harsh as that of the 40k galaxy. Nor was she limited to drawing power solely from the development of human civilization.
Why fixate on humanity alone?
If humans could believe in the God-Empress, why not aliens?
So long as it expanded the scale of civilization, it expanded the power of Honkai. To Selene, any such measure was naturally correct.
In that instant, clarity dawned upon her.
Blind reliance on precedent was unwise.
So long as they believed in her, once a single point was pierced, Honkai would spread across the surface, binding itself to the entire civilization. Honkai did not care whether that civilization was human.
In truth, the current xenophobia of the Holy Selene Empire was also something Selene had tacitly allowed.
She had never explicitly proclaimed human supremacy or declared that all alien races deserved death.
Yet the Empire's native populace—born from the legacy of the millennia-old empire—already harbored a certain rejection of foreign peoples from the four frontiers. Coupled with Selene's own actions before her ascension to the throne—which had not been far from total extermination—
After imperial unification under her rule, that psychological precedent had gradually fermented and twisted, transforming from hostility toward foreign human peoples into hostility toward alien races.
Now that she had discovered a measure more beneficial to the Empire—
If nothing else, Selene possessed the praiseworthy trait of correcting her mistakes once she recognized them.
Why did so many ancient feudal monarchs leave the impression of stubborn refusal to repent? Was it truly because they did not know their policies were wrong?
No.
They knew.
But for the sake of face—for the authority of the Son of Heaven—they could not admit error. How could an emperor be wrong?
In an age when imperial authority was said to be granted by Heaven, for an emperor to confess fault signified loss of virtue. It would shake the foundation of his legitimacy.
Aside from disasters caused by natural calamities—where emperors might issue self-reproach edicts—those who admitted fault generally fell into two categories: those capable of controlling the situation and stabilizing their authority through skillful means, and those who could not—who became puppets or lost their realms entirely.
Selene, clearly, belonged to the former.
Who would dare claim she was unworthy? That she had lost virtue?
Still, it must proceed gradually. My fundamental base is the human Empire. That must remain stable. I cannot show favoritism. The inclusion of alien races can only be icing on the cake, Selene thought to herself.
She would never admit that the image of myriad races kneeling in worship, shouting long live in unison, further satisfied her lust for adoration.
"I approve your proposal, Budo."
At those words, Budo and Konrad Curze exchanged glances, joy flashing in their eyes. Even Angron—who had rolled off to one side and was squatting while devouring food in great mouthfuls—had his ears twitch.
"But there is one point," Selene's tone shifted abruptly. She tapped the table lightly, her expression turning stern.
"Appeasement policies are acceptable. Even alien races that have fought against human civilizations may be pardoned. Different stances, different masters—such conflicts are understandable. They may be subdued and incorporated."
She raised a finger toward the projection, her eyes flashing with cold light.
"But any alien species that eats humans—if even a single individual has consumed human flesh—leave none alive. Exterminate them completely."
Humanity remained the foundation. On that point, Selene was perfectly clear.
"Yes!" ×2
Their expressions varied as they looked at the constantly flickering images within the projection. The two answered in unison.
On the screen was the Astartes reconnaissance squad that had destroyed the Jiralhanae transport vessel.
By now, reinforcements wielding Shingu: Mindseer had arrived. Through searching the captive Jiralhanae's brain, the sacred relic they transported—the "Keystone"—and their identities had all been clarified.
One point was explicitly noted in the report: by extracting memories from its neural structures, it was confirmed that this Jiralhanae had previously engaged with human civilization.
And it had eaten humans.
DNA residue extracted from its stomach and large intestine confirmed the same.
"I will not concern myself with the specific operational deployment," Selene said, casting a glance at Angron, who had crept back up on light steps. She directly issued her dismissal. "Go. Prepare for war."
"Yes, Your Majesty. We take our leave." ×3
Budo, Konrad Curze, and Angron bowed to Selene in unison. Then, stepping backward in small, measured paces until they reached the palace doors, they turned and departed together.
Watching the three figures leave, Selene pushed open the window and murmured to herself:
"'Keystone'... the ring... Precursor and Forerunner technology. A great tonic."
Leaning back against the windowsill, beneath the artificial radiance illuminating the magnificent palace, the soaring dome gleamed brilliantly. The epic murals shimmered with resplendent light.
"Goddess of all races. Empress of all races... heh~"