Tower's Response

Tower was located at the center of Lycaeus, this mining moon. Though it was called a tower, it was actually a towering structure spanning dozens of kilometers and rising straight into the sky.

The ruling class of Lycaeus had lived here for generations.

Tower, Lower Level

"My lord Agamemnon, a message has arrived from the supply station below. A mine shaft in one camp has collapsed. A Drill Tractor was operating when the collapse occurred, and a squad of armed overseers was patrolling that area. We have lost contact with them." Budelin carefully reported to Agamemnon.

Agamemnon was responsible for all affairs on the Tower's lower level and wielded immense authority. The exchange rates for supplies, ore quotas, criminal assignments, and more all passed through his hands.

"What are you trying to say?" Agamemnon asked without even turning his head as he stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, watching the scene outside.

"This subordinate suspects that the slaves below may have deliberately planned retaliation against the Tower," Budelin said quietly.

"What do you propose?" Rather than answering, Agamemnon asked what the other man intended to do.

"I plan to send people to investigate. If that is the case, every slave involved will be executed." Budelin's answer was to handle the matter according to the Tower's standard procedures.

"How inflexible." Agamemnon's cold voice drifted over.

"Please enlighten me, my lord." Budelin shuddered and prostrated himself in terror before the man, who looked somewhat short yet radiated an imposing presence.

This was the scent of power!

"It is merely a Drill Tractor. It is not as if the Tower cannot afford the loss. A squad of overseers? Mere ants."

"Those slaves would not spend the resources needed to activate a Drill Tractor just to bury a squad of overseers. That is not a cost they can afford," Agamemnon said.

"Then what does my lord mean?" Budelin asked for instructions.

"It does not matter if the Drill Tractor is gone. It does not matter if the overseers are dead. Natural disasters and accidents do not matter either. As long as ore is handed in, that is enough.

Double that camp's rare mineral quota for the next quarter." Agamemnon issued the order in an exceedingly calm tone.

He was as calm as if he were eating or drinking.

He did not even ask how many people were in that camp, what their usual quota was, or how long it would take for the rare minerals they turned in to offset the Drill Tractor's loss.

That was the power of the Tower's true manager!

A casually spoken sentence became a mountain pressing down upon the miners of Lycaeus.

"As you command." Budelin rose and began passing the higher-ups' intentions down below.

From beginning to end, Agamemnon merely stood there quietly, watching the busy scene outside the window.

At the supply point, Sharojin waited anxiously for word from the Tower.

A squad of armed overseers stood beside him to keep watch. Until the decision from above came down, Sharojin was not allowed to leave this place by even a single step.

Unlike the patrolling overseers, who were equipped only with Stun Guns, these men carried the future Astra Militarum's beloved wives: Laser Guns.

The Laser Gun was an energy weapon, the most common and widely used type of laser weapon within the Imperium. It was also the standard weapon of Astra Militarum infantry and most junior officers.

It fired a focused beam of light. The concentrated energy within the beam created a small explosion on the target's surface upon impact, vaporizing the struck portion. Even the weak points of Space Marine power armor could be pierced by a Laser Gun.

The overseers here were equipped with the M35 Galaxy Short Barrel Laser Rifle, the model best suited to conditions on Lycaeus.

Compared with the long bodies of other models, the M35 Galaxy Short Barrel was better at suppressing rebels attempting to hide in mine shafts and resist. Its power capacity of 150 high-energy laser shots was more than enough to silence rebels for good.

"How much longer is this going to take..." Sharojin was covered in dust, his face grimy as he waited restlessly.

"Slave, inform the person in charge of your camp. For the next quarter, all of your camp's quotas will be doubled. Now get lost." A cold, greedy voice came through the sound array installed at the supply exchange station.

Clearly, the low-level overseers handling affairs on Lycaeus were experts at adding extra burdens at every level.

Agamemnon had said rare minerals, but after being passed down through several layers, it had naturally become a doubling of everything.

"Ah, everything doubled? My lord, shouldn't you send someone to investigate the cause of the collapse first?" Sharojin, who had been pacing restlessly, was instantly stunned.

This was not the procedure he knew...

Unfortunately, the only response Sharojin received was silence from the sound array system.

"Slave, get lost. Go back and announce the wonderful news of your camp's destruction." The armed overseer standing nearby drove Sharojin out with a savage grin.

They were more than happy to see that over the next quarter, this pitiful camp would swiftly decline because it could not hand over enough ore, before finally being swallowed whole by the other camps.

This was also one of the few pleasures they could add to their dull guard duty.

As Sharojin trudged away with heavy steps, he even heard the overseers enthusiastically placing bets on how long that unlucky camp could hold out...

Sharojin only felt as if the sky had collapsed.

"No, I have to get this message back immediately."

Coming to his senses, Sharojin hurriedly sprinted at full speed toward the mine. For the first time, he felt that the sound of wind howling past his ears was so urgent, as though even the wind were urging him onward for not being fast enough.

"Faster. Not fast enough. I need to be faster!" Sharojin's mind constantly urged his body onward.

Every scrap of energy in every cell of his body was frantically squeezed out. Strands of energy gathered into a current and surged toward Sharojin's legs.

Sharojin, already running at full speed, suddenly accelerated again. He became a black arrow shooting toward the mine.

Mine

"What is going on? Why is it taking so long this time? By the Tower's usual procedure, Sharojin should have returned by now, shouldn't he?" Sandman said in confusion after waiting quietly at the mine for a long time without seeing anyone arrive.

"Uh, psychic energy???" Sandman said uncertainly as he wondered why no one had arrived yet.

He sensed a faint and peculiar fluctuation. It was as fragile as something newly born.

Puzzled, he raised his head and looked in the direction from which the other man should be coming. He saw Sharojin alone, rushing toward him in great haste.

A mass of black psychic energy wrapped around Sharojin's feet, carrying him straight toward Sandman...

"Sharojin, what happened?" Sandman hurried forward, supporting the somewhat out-of-control Sharojin as he anxiously questioned him.

"Boss, the Tower demands that we... for the next quarter... all... ore quotas be doubled..." Sharojin struggled to finish speaking, then collapsed unconscious...