Upon hearing this question, Kerry gave a wry smile.
"My Lord, this is also one of the most difficult problems I—no, you—will face after taking office."
Kerry continued, "Brevis has been able to hold on until now for no other reason than that the planet itself is very 'strong'."
"Strong? Elaborate," Raynor commanded.
Kerry began to rattle off Brevis's internal intelligence as if recounting a familiar treasure.
"The main human settlements on Brevis are divided into two primary areas: the central Hive and the scattered mutant settlements across the ice plains. Let's start with the Hive city. It is divided into three levels: the Upper Spire, the Mid-Hive, and the Underhive, each controlled by a different faction."
"The Upper Spire is ruled by the 'Council of Nobles,' consisting of the primary noble houses of Brevis. They control the peak of the city and enjoy the most pristine environment. More importantly, they control the production and distribution of Brevis's most vital resources: food and clean water."
"The Mid-Hive is controlled by the 'Industrial Alliance,' a collective of workers' guilds descended from the industrial era. These people control the few remaining weapons and ammunition production lines on the planet, as well as a vast pool of skilled labor. They hold the lifeline of the Hive's manufacturing industry and maintain a well-armed private militia. Although their numbers are fewer than those of the Planetary Defense Force, their equipment is far superior."
Kerry took a sip of water to moisten his throat before continuing.
"The Underhive is a loose coalition of survivors from the lowest rungs—miners, vagrants, and orphans who call themselves the 'Wasteland Walkers.' They are the most numerous, living in harsh conditions, and are incredibly tenacious. They control the Hive's sub-level networks, abandoned mines, and various illicit trading channels. Their armed forces are a motley crew with tattered equipment, but they are masters of the terrain, fearless, and frequently scavenge across the frozen surface."
He concluded, "Each of these three forces possesses considerable military strength and territory. Their relationship is a complex web of cooperation and mutual sabotage. Faced with the Ork invasion, they were forced to form a temporary alliance to stabilize the defenses. However, internal strife and mutual distrust severely limit their overall war potential."
Raynor nodded in approval; it seemed this man had truly put in the effort to study Brevis. It made sense. No matter how dire the situation, as long as there were humans involved, they would find a way to fight among themselves. It was a deep-seated flaw of the species.
"However," Raynor noted, "if the Council of Nobles controls the food, but the Industrial Alliance controls the weapons... logically, the ones with the guns should have the upper hand. Why does the Council remain in control? Aren't they afraid of being overthrown by the armed guilds?"
In the grim darkness of the far future, the one with the gun usually held the right to speak; that was an ironclad rule. When Kerry heard this, his expression became complicated—a mixture of awe, fear, and intense envy.
"Because the leading house of the Council of Nobles is... the Saint Garus family of Great Bears."
He uttered the family's full name slowly. A rare look of shock appeared in Raynor's eyes.
Saint Garus the Great Bear.
That naming convention—a title combined with a heraldic animal—was the signature of a Knight House.
A Knight House. In the galaxy, this term represented a legendary tier of power. They hailed from "Knight Worlds" scattered across the stars—feudal societies that maintained high technology. These families were the ruling class, each piloting a "Knight Suit" passed down through generations. These were giant war machines, several stories high and weighing thousands of tons, relics of humanity's Golden Age. A single Knight traversing the battlefield was enough to turn the tide of an entire war. A Knight House was a strategic asset of the highest order.
Without waiting for Raynor's response, Kerry continued.
"Sir, you have already seen the genetic codes, so I believe you have guessed the truth. The Saint Garus family did not originally belong to Brevis, nor even to the Calixis Sector. They come from a Knight World that was destroyed by an unknown cataclysm. The survivors, along with their remaining Knight suits, began a life of wandering."
"About four hundred standard years ago, they drifted to Brevis. At that time, the planet was reeling from a massive xenos invasion. The governor was helpless, and the PDF was suffering defeat after defeat. Support from the Imperial Navy was delayed by a Warp storm. In that critical moment, the Saint Garus family stepped forward."
Kerry sounded like a wandering poet reciting a legend.
"The Knights descended from the sky like walking fortresses. Their strides triggered tremors, their cannons scorched the earth, and their reaper chainswords cleaved through the enemy ranks. In less than three days, the xenos army was broken. To repay this debt and retain such a powerful force, the governor reached an accord with the family. They were granted noble titles and fiefs, and their status on Brevis was legalized. In exchange, House Saint Garus swore an oath to protect Brevis in its times of peril."
"Since then, the Great Bears have taken root here, becoming the undisputed power within the Council of Nobles." Kerry lowered his voice. "Furthermore, their close ties with the local Adeptus Mechanicus enclave make them even more formidable. So, sir, do you understand now? Even if the other factions had ten lives, they wouldn't dare openly defy the Council. Not unless they are prepared to face the wrath of a Knight."
After listening to the account, Raynor leaned back and exhaled. Ork Warlords, Knight Houses, internal power struggles, the Mechanicus, and the Ecclesiarchy... not to mention the secrets hinted at in his secret orders. Brevis was quite a piece of work. It was no wonder a remote Hive world could hold out so long against a Waaagh! The foundation was solid, anchored by a Knight House as a pillar of stability.
And this coward, Kerry, had actually fantasized about governing such a place. He likely didn't grasp the true danger of the position. Had he actually taken the seat, he'd likely have been executed within a year for failing to meet the Imperial Tithe.
Raynor glanced at Kerry, who was lost in a daydream and starting to giggle foolishly. Raynor was instantly irritated. This good-for-nothing was still dreaming of being governor?
He raised his hand and delivered a sharp slap to Kerry's forehead.
"Ouch!" Kerry cried out, clutching his head and looking at Raynor with an aggrieved expression. "Sir, what was that for...?"
"Stop daydreaming. With your abilities, going to Brevis as governor would be a death sentence," Raynor said coldly.
Kerry opened his mouth to protest, but seeing Raynor's look of utter disappointment—so similar to the look his wife gave him—he shrank back timidly.
"I... I've been preparing for this for a long time, too..." he muttered softly.