"My grandfather is probably turning over in his grave right now. If only he knew that his descendant would become a fucking counter-revolutionary..." I said, swallowing, while the crowd was screaming around me.
But there was nothing to be done, the decision had been made and now there was no turning back. I decided to make a hero of myself - that meant I would have to die for it. However, so far everything was not going so badly. There were a lot of us and we were heading straight to the palace of the Lear family, who ruled the entire city openly and secretly, controlling both all industrial production and the black markets.
There were a lot of miners and when we went forward, the forces of order were ordered to retreat. We were going deeper, moving along the roads. I understood what was happening, they were letting us in, while the other units were surrounding our crowd. Then we would run into a monolithic wall of armored vehicles and flashbangs would fly, after which they would start dispersing the crowd. If we rushed at them, they would start shooting with live ammunition. However, I did not intend to bring it to such a bloodbath.
- CITIZENS OF DRAKERNOR, PLEASE DISPERSE!!! YOUR PRESENCE HERE IS ILLEGAL!!! DISPERSE OR WE WILL USE FORCE!!! - the voice of the commander of the law enforcement forces was heard through the loudspeaker.
"Well, God bless you," I said, to Tzeentch's grin.
And he took a step forward, raising his hands as he went. All the weapons of the law enforcement forces were at the ready, I could see the barrels of their rifles and lasguns shaking. They understood that if the crowd ran at them, the first ones might be shot, but the rest would lynch them and thousands would die before the riot was suppressed. Any spark could lead to a massacre now, and so I walked slowly.
"Negotiations!" I shouted, trying to shout over the crowd.
"The son of a bitch, he's the one who gathered everyone together," said the commander of the law enforcement forces, looking at me.
"Put a bullet in his forehead?" suggested his assistant.
But after looking at his own forces, the commander of the law enforcement forces grimaced and gave the order to his fighters. They broke ranks and quickly overpowered me, leading me behind a wall of armored vehicles and infantry with shields. Killing me was out of the question, as it could provoke the crowd. It was necessary to buy time until the imperial units arrived.
- You want negotiations? You'll have negotiations, you fucking traitor. Take him to Mr. Lear, let him sort it out.
- Commander, there is another crowd coming from the eastern part of the city. There are thousands of them...
- Don't let them connect with this group, use gas and flashbangs.
— Combat?
- All fighters must have combat weapons, but do not use them without my direct order.
- Accepted.
Everything was about to get out of control, but thanks to our preparation, the red line was not crossed. No one wanted to die, so this time people came out without miner's gear and without tools that could easily smash a law enforcement officer's head. This slightly reduced the degree of tension, and any provocateurs from the crowd, clearly hired by Detriy, were strangled by my bar mates.
I was led straight into the palace. They led me slowly, so that everyone could see me, then we went up the steps, stood in front of the giant doors, and then they let me in. The palace was huge, the bodyguards of the Lir family were already stationed there, they even dragged in heavy weapons, placing them along the walls near the windows. There were automatic grenade launchers, as well as twin cannons. The only reason all the rebels weren't turned into minced meat is that these rebels are the backbone of the economy.
Then I was led inside the office, spacious, with a marble floor, high ceiling, and a golden chandelier. There was practically no furniture, and the spacious hall was supposed to emphasize the grandeur. While the miners huddled in three-by-three-meter rooms, the Lear family gave up hundreds of square meters of the hall for one table.
And an old man sat behind it, wrinkled, with a bunch of augmetics, he was reading papers and didn't even want to look at me. It seemed he wasn't even particularly worried about the crowd, ready to hang his entire family on trees, poles, even on this giant chandelier.
- I came...
— I don't care why you came. The Imperials will arrive soon, they will suppress you all, cripple every fifth one, execute every fifth one as an example. Then they will introduce collective punishments. If after that you continue to violate the order, then...
- Are you out of your mind? - I interrupted sharply, because I had nothing to lose, just as I had originally come here, knowing that I would most likely not return alive. - Do you want to kill everyone, just to avoid giving a little indulgence? Those gathered themselves are not eager to die! They want to work, just make the conditions a little more humane and they will all leave. I give you my word, a little concession and...
"A SMALL CONCESSION," the old man roared in rage, instantly losing his composure and jumping up from his seat.
The vein on his forehead was pulsating, his skin was white, and his old wrinkled hands were shaking from endless hatred for me and the desire to close his fingers around my neck. This old man was the embodiment of the old times, for him the lower classes of society were spineless cattle and a resource that needed to be crushed and destroyed. The idea of making concessions to the crowd could not even theoretically appear in his head. After all, his grandfather, his great-grandfather, tens and hundreds of generations before him, punished rebels for any disobedience.
And what a pity that I realized all this only now. Yes, somewhere in the subcortex of my brain there was a thought that everything would be much more complicated, but not to such an extent...
- DISOBEDIENCE WILL ONLY BE PUNISHED!!! - the old man screamed in madness, and his saliva flew in all directions. - You dumb-headed cattle, you don't understand anything! All your benefits are the result of our labors! You are nothing, you are just cattle that will immediately die without a worthy leader! And how did you repay us? You staged this riot, succumbing to cheap provocations. Well, I will do everything so that you learn to appreciate what you have. And you will be the first victim.
- You're crazy. You cornered them and...
— SHUT UP!!! SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH, CARCASS!!! — At this point the old man almost had a stroke: he was incredibly infuriated by the very fact of my existence, and when I dared to contradict and interrupt him... yes, such a thing could not exist in his worldview. — GUARD, WHY IS HE NOT IN SHACKLES YET?
And then it all should have ended with my painful death on the main square after the entire crowd was brutally suppressed and subdued. However, the changes could not be stopped and the actions of Detrius and everyone else had already launched a snowball that was flying down the mountain, destroying everything in its path. The changes affected everything and everywhere, although most of the moments could not be seen, because they often happened in quiet offices, in the dialogues of the powerful.
"Guards," the old man said, also understanding something, moving to a new level of rage and stopping screaming.
But the guards continued to stand silently at the entrance. Honorary warriors of the Lir family, trained and educated since childhood, they were the embodiment of loyalty and skill. However, they did not obey a direct order and, like statues, continued to maintain an icy calm, looking only forward and clutching their weapons. There could be only one reason for this, because it was almost impossible to bribe the bodyguards of the influential families of Dreikernor.
And the old man realized everything at the last moment. The imperials had already arrived, dispersed, and were only waiting for orders. In the palace, the old man heard the sound of footsteps that were familiar to him.
"Hello, father," the doors to the hall opened and a stately brunette with a perfectly trimmed beard entered.
The old man meanwhile sank down on a chair and gave his firstborn a look of incredible disgust. And then, clenching his teeth, he hissed like a snake:
- Traitor.
- Times are changing. And you either go hand in hand with the changes, or remain on the sidelines of history, - the apparently new head of the Lir family said with slight sadness. - With your actions, you are destroying our family. It is time for you to retire.
- Everything you have was built by me. I taught you, raised you strong, showed you how the world works and gave you the opportunity to realize your ambitions. And this is what I got in return, a knife in the back.
- It hurts me to hear this, father. But I still believe that you will understand me.
The son turned to the bodyguards and nodded. The warriors approached the old man, but he did not resist and with his head held high, he left in their company. They also understood everything, because the head of the clan was already losing his grip, clinging too strongly to traditions that had become irrelevant. He was really ruining the clan, while his son was sorting out constant conflicts and problems.
"Our world was stable and constant. However, with the arrival of the Imperials, everything began to change," the new head of the Lir family said heavily and tiredly, sitting down at the table and beginning to examine his father's documents. "Judging by the relative calm of the crowd, the absence of pogroms and murders, as well as your presence here… you want negotiations, right?"
— Yes.
— What are the conditions?
— Reduction of the working day to ten hours a day, updating of miners' equipment, production of new filters, as well as social guarantees for his family in the event of the death of a worker.
"We'll reduce the working day to eleven hours. The production of new filters will take five years. Social guarantees - payment of a miner's salary to his family for six months after his death," he was more of an ultimatum than trying to find a compromise.
"I'm afraid it will be perceived as a handout," I shook my head. "I can agree, but it won't solve the problem. Besides, others who will join those who have nothing to lose will not agree with my decision."
- Hmm... right... - the new head of the Lear families thought and leaned back, while behaving extremely calmly, as befits a businesslike businessman. - But you seem to understand everything perfectly well, don't you? We can't give too big a piece to the people, it will be perceived as weakness. Then they will ask for even more. But I don't want to organize repressions, it is fraught with a repeat of the capital's events.
- I understand, I don't need a slaughter either.
- Okay, okay, I'm glad to hear it. Then let's do it this way... We'll reduce the working day to ten hours, but leave the standards the same. We'll update the equipment and get filters to increase labor productivity. As with the mines in general, it's high time to modernize them. Social guarantees... we'll provide them one-time for those who've worked for more than thirty years. Repeating the practice will depend on your actions.
- Yes, that sounds much better.
"I'm not finished," Lear interrupted me harshly, raising his finger. "But in exchange, you'll start working for me. I want to know what the mood is among the people, I want to weave theses that are advantageous to me into your speeches, I want to control the state of affairs. Also, there's a cult operating on our planet, so you'll have to cooperate with the Imperials, who are already very eager to turn everyone into mincemeat."
- We are not cultists, we just want to survive in this madness.
- So do I. So do you agree?
"I agree," I nodded, realizing that no one would offer me anything more.
- Very well, then I will give you a list of overly violent rebels. They will need to be punished. Also explain to all your people that the Imperial forces will be here for a long time and that random searches will be conducted.
— I don't know if there are cultists in our ranks, but most likely there are. And if I announce this, then...
"They'll start fleeing like rats from a sinking ship," finished Lear, who had already set traps and had lists of suspects. "That's what we need."
Soon I left the palace, passed on all the information to the crowd and presented it as a hard-won victory. The people were surprised and did not believe what was happening, but the changes began the next day. Although Lear was not a saint, he had long been concerned about the decline in the family's income and was going to change the entire system in order to improve it. And improving working conditions was one of his trump cards, because while other families lived by the old rules and honored traditions, he did not care about the governor's recommendations and wanted to be the first to occupy a niche in the changing world.
I, in turn, was in a vague mood. After all, it seemed to me that I had swapped one thing for another. And although bloodshed had been avoided and some concessions had been wrested, what would happen next? The future remained too vague and was being decided without my participation.
*
The capital of Drakernor, the main palace, the governor's office.
The governor sat at his desk in the dark, carefully writing letters on paper. He had to write by hand, because the letter was personal and no one but Mologost was supposed to read its contents. Although much other bureaucratic writing was also done by hand. The few cogitators that were available were confiscated by the Imperials under the supervision of the mechanics. The governor didn't quite understand what exactly was going on, but it seemed that evil forces had taken up residence in the machines due to yet another act of sabotage by the cult.
By the way, there were more and more problems with the cult. Initially, the governor expected that Detriy simply wanted power and would act carefully, fearing for his life and preparing plans for withdrawal. However, it turned out that Detriy was not one of the timid and put everything on the line. He needed victory and only victory, at any cost and at any sacrifice. Even if nothing remained of Drakernor - he didn't care.
The Imperials, on the other hand, although they gave the impression of a formidable army, it was clear that they were afraid of the enemy. These daemons, warp spawn and psykers… the Guard was used to fighting simpler enemies, leaving such opponents to other units. Because of this, the losses increased.
And Mologost couldn't ask for help. No one was supposed to know about the xenos connections. If the Inquisition came here, they would slaughter everyone. If the Emperor's angels arrived, it wouldn't end well for either the governor or Mologost. Of course, Detrius would probably go to the next world, and first, but... in any case, such a request was not sent, and even if it were sent, Dreikernor was on the edge of the galaxy. It would take years to get here, if the warp was calm.
In any case, Mologost would win, this was already absolutely obvious to the governor. The only question that remained was whether he, the governor, would remain in his post.
"We'll have to complicate the logistical connection with the xenos," the governor grumbled, trying to complicate the scheme of interaction with the xenos so that only he would understand how it works and therefore have a higher value for Mologost.
But suddenly his hand twitched, on its own. It surprised him, and then headaches began. Straining, he exhaled and grabbed his temples, when he suddenly realized that the palace had become unusually quiet. There was only one entrance to the office, through a door guarded by Drakernor's best fighters. And after the preparations, the palace turned into a fortress that even demons would not easily take.
But the fear became unusually strong, the anxiety increased and the governor was forced to get to his feet. Seized with horror, he ran straight to the door to check if the fighters were there. He had had panic attacks before because of the monstrous burden of power.
However, this time everything was different. He did not have time to run to the door, and the fear turned out to be quite justified. Soon, dozens of corpses were found in the palace. Their bodies were cut cleanly along with their strong armor, no one had time to fire a shot, and the frost on the walls and floor indicated a powerful trace of psychic energy. Such a massacre horrified all the nobility and sowed the most terrible chaos, which Mologost had to personally calm.
The murder further escalated the chaos, forcing Mologost to resort to extreme measures.
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