Imperial Tax Official

Rovi walked through the dim corridor, heading for the exit.

It was already dark outside.

The majestic Hive Spire pierced the clouds, flashing red warning lights.

In the distance, several enormous Imperial Transports hovered in orbit, like silent behemoths waiting to feed.

The cold wind, mixed with acid rain, blew against Rovi's face.

He tightened his thin robe.

The first step was complete.

He was still alive.

As long as he was alive, there was a chance.

Rovi touched the two pieces of Corpse Starch he'd been rewarded with in his pocket; they were as hard as stones.

He didn't return to the dormitory. Instead, he turned and headed for the Archives.

Since he intended to climb the ranks in the Ministry of Agriculture, he needed to know more.

More about the soil, the climate, the fertilizer, all the data about this planet.

He wouldn't sleep tonight.

Rovi pushed open the heavy doors of the Archives, his figure disappearing into the darkness.

At the same time.

The Planetary Governor's Mansion, the top floor of the spire.

A woman stood before a bright floor-to-ceiling window.

She wore silver-white power armor, without a helmet.

Her silver hair cascaded down her pauldrons like a waterfall, and her purple eyes reflected the starry sky outside.

Alicia Van Valentius.

She held a glass of wine but hadn't drunk it.

"Is the Tithe collected?" she asked.

From the shadows behind, a Tech-Priest wearing Red Robes emerged.

Half of his face was metal, and his vocalizer emitted crackling static.

"According to the data just uploaded by the Executive Council, the accounts for Granary Seven are balanced."

"Balanced?" Alicia turned around, her eyebrows raised. "That idiot Kais actually managed to balance the books? Wasn't he always trying to force me to use the Family Reserves?"

"The data logic is perfect, though somewhat creative," the Tech-Priest added. "For example, there are substantial Machine Spirit Appeasement Fees."

Alicia let out a cold laugh.

"He really thinks I'm a fool. But as long as the tax official can't find any fault, I can't be bothered to care."

She put down her wine glass and walked to the Holographic Map.

The map displayed various regions of the planet, most of them flashing red light indicating crisis.

"Check who balanced the books," Alicia said.

"The signature is Supervisor Kase. According to handwriting analysis and operation logs, the actual operator was a Rank Four Scribe."

"Name?"

"Rovi. Three years of service, unremarkable record. Three days ago, he fainted from overwork."

"Rovi..."

Alicia repeated the name.

"Keep an eye on him," she said. "In this rotten Executive Council, someone who can balance the books is either extremely wicked or a talent."

"Yes, Governor."

The Tech-Priest retreated.

Alicia looked out the window again.

In the night sky, a shooting star streaked across.

"The Emperor protects."

She whispered softly, her hand resting on the Bolter at her waist.

"I hope this time, I can find some useful people."

"My time... is running out."

The air in the Archives was thick with dust.

Rovi closed the two hundredth volume of the History of Soil Composition Changes.

The flame of the Electronic Candlestick flickered and died.

Energy rationing time was over.

Darkness instantly swallowed rows of Data Cabinets.

Rovi didn't get up.

He sat in the darkness, eyes closed, mentally reviewing the data he had just memorized.

In Year M37, Fertility II had suffered an outbreak of "Withering Fever."

Records from that time showed that to curb the Fungus, the Adeptus Mechanicus had dispersed a high concentration of Sulfides into the atmosphere.

These Sulfides would leave a residue.

The residue would react with modern high-efficiency fertilizers, causing the Historical Soil Compaction Issue.

Rovi opened his eyes.

He had found it.

This was his second insurance policy for the two hundred and seventy thousand tons of "losses."

If the excuse of "Religious Ritual" was questioned, he would bring out this "Historical Soil Compaction Issue."

This was science.

In Warhammer 40,000, it was also theology.

Bells rang outside the door.

Morning Prayer had begun.

Rovi stood up, his knees cracking with a crisp sound.

He placed the book back in its original position, his movements light, not disturbing the dormant Servitor Skull in the corner.

He walked out of the Archives and went to the Public Washroom to splash cold water on his face.

The person in the mirror had a pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes.

Today, judgment would descend.

Granary Seven, Landing Platform Three.

The gale whipped sand and gravel, pinging against the power armor plating.

Supervisor Kase stood at the forefront.

He had changed into a new robe, a gleaming Loyalty Medal pinned to the collar.

Yet, he couldn't stop trembling.

Sweat trickled down his fat face, soaking a large patch of his collar.

Rovi stood half a step behind him, cradling a thick ledger in his hands.

"Rovi," Kase's voice wavered in the wind, "Are you sure this is alright? This itemization for Religious Expenditure, will it really work?"

"It will, sir," Rovi replied in a deep voice. "The Ministry of the Interior Tax Official doesn't care where the money goes, only if the procedures are compliant."

"What if he asks for details..."

"I will answer. You only need to nod and sign."

A roar echoed from the sky.

The clouds split open.

A gray-black shuttle descended like a hammer.

Its landing gear slammed onto the deck, the blast of hot air nearly toppling Kase.

The hatch opened.

Two armored servitors emerged first.

They held bolters in their hands, their red electronic eyes scanning the area.

Next, a tall, thin man in a gray robe.

He wore no respirator mask.

Half of his head was composed of metal implants.

His left eye was a multispectral lens, his right eye a cloudy human one.

His right hand had been modified into a mechanical claw, connected to several data probes.

The Ministry of the Interior Tax Official, High Scribe, Marquez.

Kase forced an ugly smile and stepped forward.

"Praise the Emperor! Lord Marquez, Fertility II Seventh Agricultural Zone welcomes you..."

Marquez didn't look at him.

His mechanical left eye rotated, emitting a buzzing focusing sound, sweeping across the outer wall of the granary, then across the Farm Workers kneeling on the ground, and finally landing on Kais.

"Spare me the pleasantries. My schedule is tight, and I have four more planets to audit."

Kais froze.

He trembled as he pointed behind him with his hand.

Rovi stepped forward, holding the ledger with both hands raised.

"Sir."

Marquez extended his Mechanical Claw.

A probe pierced the binding of the ledger, as if tasting the paper.

Then, he took the ledger and opened it.

The speed at which he turned the pages was astonishing.

Rustle, rustle.

This wasn't reading; it was scanning.

Rovi maintained his bowed posture, counting his heartbeats.

One hundred and twenty.

One hundred and thirty.

Suddenly, the rustling stopped.

Marquez's finger stopped on the fourteenth page.

"Explain."

His metallic tone was devoid of any inflection.

Kais's legs went weak, and he almost fell to his knees.

He opened his mouth but made no sound, then instinctively looked at Rovi.

Rovi raised his head, looking at Marquez's flickering red eye.

"This was a necessary expenditure to appease Harvester Spirit Three, sir," Rovi said.