Oil-Guy's icy voice slowly rang out, sounding like something from hell to Adela. "Pursuant to Chapter Three, Article Seven; Chapter Nine, Article Twelve; and Chapter Eleven, Article Three of the Imperial Frontier Worlds Governance Act."
He paused, his voice echoing through the silent hall. "Death sentence. Immediate execution." "You!!"
Adela shot up from his chair, his well-maintained noble face twisting like a worm crushed underfoot. "Cage Lawrence! This is tyranny! Naked, undisguised tyranny!!"
He roared, spittle spraying across the expensive cherrywood table. "I am a Hive City Governor formally appointed by the Imperial Department of Military Affairs!"
"Even after leaving office, I still retain the status of a former Imperial official!"
"Under the Terra Administrative Procedures Code, any trial against me must be heard by the Segmentum Adeptus Arbites and approved by the planetary governor's office."
The more he spoke, the more agitated he became, his trembling finger pointing at Oil-Guy. "You, some backwater bumpkin who has been in office for three days—who gave you the authority to sentence me to death on your own?!"
"You are violating the Imperial Truth! This is overreach! This is treason!!"
The other officials in the hall sat there trembling, barely daring to breathe.
They exchanged terrified looks, screaming inwardly.
Who did things like this?!
The Imperial bureaucratic system had been running for eight hundred years. Even during the bloodiest changes of power, the proper appearances had to be maintained.
No world's politics worked like this. Not even in some garbage game.
Shouldn't he have been gradually stripped of power first, then investigated, with evidence collected bit by bit? Then, on some dark night, the former governor would suffer a "sudden illness" or "accidentally fall from a building."
Who held an all-staff meeting on their first day in office, read out every crime in