The deafening roar of atmospheric aircraft engines slowly winds down as the sleek, silver ship finishes its landing procedures, and as soon as the area is cool enough, dozens of ground crew, each immaculately dressed for such a menial job, come sprinting from hidden doors. From the ground in hidden compartments, they acquire their tools and hoses, performing refueling and all inspections that imperial code dictates. As the maintenance crews of the Imperial Capitol, they are the best of the best, and follow their guidelines exactly and quickly.
All tools are dropped and all men present stand in attention as the rear boarding ramp of the spacecraft, no more than a pleasure yacht, descends to the landing pad. Groups of servants quickly sprint from different hiding places and place down elegant carpeting along the path that the VIP is going to walk along. Every speck of dust is cleaned off of the intricate patterns of the purple and gold fabric, and a waiter stands at the ready with refreshments on a golden platter. Just some simple crackers with various meats, cheeses, and other salty toppings, all of which none standing on the platform have ever tasted, or ever can afford to taste. The only drink is a dark black liquid of some manner no one outside recognizes, but it is easily assumed to be just as expensive.
The door opens outward from the craft on near-silent hinges with only a minor hiss, pop of the seal being broken on the void-proof door. Standing there is not what the ground crew and servant expected, as they have never seen the man they are hosting before. The Imperial Director of Noble Relations, Joaqim H.E. Leinscoff III, known for his larger-than-life personality and commanding demeanor, leads many to a false conclusion on how he looks. Instead of a towering, lean, man of immaculate noble perfection, there is a short and large-bellied man. He isn't necessarily ugly or good-looking, but rather plain with a large gut showing his appreciation for good food and drink. Most of the menials guess his age to be somewhere in his late 40s biologically, but knowing nobles, he is most likely well into his hundreds.
He steps from the craft with a wide and inviting smile on his face. He gives a short wave to the menials who all, standing in attention, give him the standard imperial salute. He gets off the ship, waving and commenting kindly on how professional everyone is, leading all those gathered to beleive him to be a rare kind and benevolent sort of noble, but the two blue and silver, heavily armored guards escorting him makes sure everyone stays in their place, not wanting to be the one to find out just how far the Directors kindness goes.
Taking the drink and some of the snacks, the Director walks forward and into the imperial palace. He doesn't bother with manners, and the food and drink quickly disappear down his throat while just through the doors a small hovering cart is awaiting to take him through the many story-high halls of the city-sized palace. The small cart rides along magnetic rails placed under the beautiful masonry of the floor, quickly passing by the various murals and portraits of important people through the empire's long history. The speed is too fast for the director to take in any of the artwork, but he smiles, assured that it is the highest quality.
The ride stops at the dining area of the palace, a set of massive doors left just wide enough for a single person to walk through mark the entrance of the decadent place. In front of the door stands a platoon of gold and purple guards, their statuesque stances radiating malice toward whoever would do their lord harm. The Director steps from his ride and leaves his guards behind, guarding his method of escape if need be, although he assumes this dinner will be quite the opposite of something that may cause him harm.
The floors of the grand dining area of the palace are made of smooth and impossibly well-polished marble brought in from a distant world, a form of marble with better patterning than the stuff that was found on Earth. The Directors' heeled boots click against the floor, a thundering sound in the respectful silence of the halls, but the sound of his steps disappears as soon as he steps through the mighty doors, the sound of gentle classical music that fills the expansive space from the many musicians from their perches built into the walls, as if they themselves were decorations, replaces the sound of his steps. Ahead of him is a long table, a lone object in the grand space. There are many men like him seated around it. Their clothing is kept perfectly, and their hair and skin are groomed to perfection. They quietly chat amongst one another, sipping on some drink that the Director feels giddy to try for himself. There is a single seat awaiting him at the table, which he quickly sits in before he says in his rich voice,
"I apologize for my tardiness, my esteemed fellows, but I was caught up in some technical issues."
He puts extra stress on the "technical," causing the whole table to chuckle as it is noble slang for taking too long with a woman. He bows his head low from his seat to the newly crowned emperor, who sits at the head. A studly man looking like he is in his mid-30s but is just as old as everyone here at the table, and a long-time friend of everyone here, after all, they are all the main actors in the coup that put the man in charge. The Emperor cheerily asks,
"Ah, Joaqim! My friend, tell me, how is the nobility taking to the new changes? Anything to worry about?"
The Director of Noble Relations smiles widely, grabbing the drink that was awaiting him. After taking a sip, he explains,
"The many are happy to just nod along and be yes-men for us so long as the wine and gold keep flowing, which is of course, a major part of this meeting right now. Of course, we have our allies who are happy to see you as the one true emperor. There are those whom I just... tell half-truths to and they are quite happy to believe them, the idiots. The last group, the ones in opposition to us, are a minority; many are easily threatened and will only act against us if others work against us, as they will not work alone. The ones who might cause problems are well aware of the sword we are holding above their heads, and I've taken measures to have... collateral in the event they wish to start acting up."
The table laughs, and the Emperor asks another man, the Director of Imperial Truth, a colossal man who, even before the dinner has started, is eating from a tray of snacks,
"Hughbert, tell me how we have decided to tell the people of my new ascension?"
The big man swallows before blubbering out,
"I have created a most wonderful story, my leige. You are from the bloodline of our first emperor, who was betrayed by the last dynasty, a false dynasty, and lost their claim to the throne. Then, in a most noble speech and with a few possible divine miracles, the last emperor stepped down in shame, taking his own life for the crimes of his bloodline and his own shortcomings. Aside from him, the story says there was no bloodshed due to how glorious and righteous your claim is.
We even managed to get the bastard to abdicate on camera before we shot him."
The whole table laughs at the tall tale, everyone here knowing it all to be a lie. Plain and simple, all of them are in the seats they are now, only the Director of Noble Relations and the Director of Public Morals being in the same seats as they were with the old emperor, because of their plot and successful coup. Over 3 million people died during the coup attempt, including losses on the side of the plotters. The old emperor died indignantly, and the old Director of Warfare became the current emperor, ascending as Emperor Killian, discarding his last name due to how recognizable it is in the minds of the public.
The Emperor then turns to a slender, dark skinned man, the Director of Internal Intelligence, also known as the secret police, and asks him,
"Patrick, anything we should know about on your side of things?"
The Director exhales sharply in amusement, and he speaks in a flat, incredibly calm voice,
"The rebels are being rather annoying as of now. More insurgencies are popping up by the second, luckily none are because of our plot, and even a few stopped after the old regime was disposed of. The reasons for their armed actions are varied, so as of right now, there is not much worry of an organized rebellion."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The table nods, and everyone takes a swig of their drinks, and the Director of Warfare, the son of Emperor Killian, Director Killian Von Polideir II says,
"I'll go ahead now so I don't waste any time. Our military is suffering after the failed xenos wars. Millions are dead, and the financial toll of all equipment lost is extreme. We are able to defend against external invaders for the most part, but any internal conflict would easily have a neighboring empire come knocking. We are also incapable of performing any offensive campaign as of now.
Simply put, we need to lick our wounds and rebuild. With proper funding, we can be nearly back to what we were in about 2 years."
The table nods along grimly, and Emperor Killian explains what everyone is thinking,
"We all must come to an understanding, though, many problems we have stem from the economic situation of the empire, and that is difficult to fix. Since our current Director of the Economy is going through a nice round of enhanced interrogation due to his embezzlement, this situation isn't going to be easy. I have a replacement set up already, but an economy is more than just commerce and money, so we will have to work together some, and authority between departments may need to be shared."
The table grumbles a little, none of them willing to give up even an ounce of power, even among their "friends". Emperor Killian knows this for certain, but he can't think of any other way for the situation to be solved, as if reading his mind, Director Leinscoff gives an alternative offer, speaking freely,
"Gentlemen, I may have a solution.
What has caused issues in the past and in our current state is that our system of government is designed to purposely keep power in specific departments away from one another as a means to stop anyone from ever rising to take the crown. As we all have witnessed and done already, when we are able to coordinate properly, even between two departments of the state, even the crown is powerless.
To fix our situation, we need to cooperate more with one another, and in a less refined form of government, our departments would mix, be removed, or we would be forced to share our absolute power among one another. I do not propose this at all, because I rather like this position, I've had it for a century now, and I don't plan to share it. I know all of you have a similar opinion on this, as all of you have been reaching for your current seats for many years.
What I propose is a new department, not one equal to any of ours, as we have plenty at this rung of this ladder of power, but a department entirely created to work as an intermediary between our different departments. One we all independently control, yet have no ownership of. One loyal to no one but the idea of the empire and dedicated to its continued prosperity. "
The Director of Agriculture asks,
"How will this department operate? How can it work under all of our departments at the same time and utilize them?"
Joaqum smiles and responds,
"It won't be under our departments, it will be under us as individuals. Only answering to us sitting at this table and no one else. How it will work is that we will grant it the ability to utilize the personnel and resources of each department to facilitate cooperation between our departments, through recommendations only to us. This is to keep any of us from stepping on one another's toes when we need something done. I also believe if done correctly, this department should be allowed to independently act in each of our individual best interests.
This whole thing will be set up outside of standard politics and power structures in order to quell any internal ambitions it may have. I also think this department should be small, no more than a few dozen people, most of them being support staff for its director, who really does everything. This allows us to all exert direct control on the single point that matters, and if this department goes rogue, a single point of destruction."
The table nods along to this plan before Emperor Killian asks,
"So you want to create a new department composed of one person, who is restrained from any political ascension, that is entirely dedicated to interdepartmental cooperation, and knows they can be killed at any second?"
Director Joaqim nods and the emperor continues,
"Who the hell would accept this position?"
Director Joaqim slyly smiles and responds,
"I know the perfect person, but I say we vote on the creation of this new department before I bring them into this conversation."
The area in front of the men at the table is retracted for a moment before rising with the first course of the night, a lovely salad with roasted nuts and various rare vegetables. As the men begin eating the crispy leaves covered in a flavorful oil the Emperor asks,
"All in favor, raise your hands."
To everyone's extreme surprise, all right hands are raised. After a moment of stunned silence, a round of low chuckles covers the sounds of metal against dishes. They all voted together not out of a wish to cooperate, but instead because of their greedy desire not to release a single bit of power to the other men around them. The Emperor asks Director Leinscoff,
"Okay, it's decided. Who is your man for the job?"
Director Leinscoff polishes off the last morsel of his plate, having ravenously devoured the food like a starved animal. After wiping his lips, he answers,
"It's a younger man, only about fifty or so. He is my half-brother's only child, we do not share a last name due to only sharing a mother. His father passed away in an unfortunate accident when he was younger, and his mother's identity is still unknown. After the leeches that composed our family had devoured all the inheritance the man left for his son, I remained as his only family member who at least regularly speaks to him. I can't say I raised him, because I rarely speak to him at all, but he is always quite happy to hear from me. He has done well for himself despite being flat broke because of our family. All I did was send him a weekly allowance for a while so he didn't starve; after all, he is my nephew, and I believed it would give me another pawn to work with sometime in the future.
And just like a pawn, he is quite the asset when used right. He can be anything we make him to be, as through his isolated upbringing, he developed many different skills and talents; he isn't some amazing genius to be a master at all of his abilities, but he is capable of a little of everything and is quite cunning in his approaches. This is due to him being... well, very weird.
Something is fundamentally different about him, and I can't really put my finger on it. I guess when the family betrayed his trust, he lost all faith in nobility. He has zero respect for the careful games and dances the nobles are always doing, he will call them out or outright ruin them if it means he reaches his goal quicker. While he is incredibly capable of playing along, as he has done under my direction, he doesn't care. He has no ambitions of power or subtly; he only wants to reach his goal, and that is it. This mindset is why he is so varied in capability and how he can find novel solutions to any problem; he is simply seeking his goal without a single thought about his reputation.
He is the best for the job just for his capability, but for his lack of ambition for grandeur. He is quite happy with his life as a minor noble, but he will do whatever we ask him to do. He doesn't act like a noble, which is a double-edged sword. The good part is that he isn't always thinking of ways to screw us over or take our jobs... but the bad part is that we won't know when he does. He is unpredictable, which can be really good, but it will make it hard to know his inner thoughts, even I, a socialite, cannot read him at times."
Emperor Killian asks,
"And what about his ideals? Will he be too weak?"
Director Leinscoff laughs heartily for a moment and responds quickly,
"His morals start and stop right where they either help him reach his goals or get in the way of them. Give him a task, he won't care about a single thing."
The Director of Imperial Truth downs his glass and, with a gasp of satisfaction and asks his question,
"What are his vices? What can we use to control or incentivise him?"
Director Leinscoff thinks for a moment and, with a shrug, says,
"As of now, he isn't motivated by women, money, or drugs. His control is guaranteed because he is loyal to a fault. Even I felt bad for betraying his trust at one point and I did apologize, which, as you all know, is rare for me."
The table laughs, and he continues,
"His past of being betrayed so badly by family at a rather young age makes him really against any form of betrayal or treason. Put him in the employ of the empire and he will be the most loyal servant we have, but he can also be hardheaded, which is a problem, but I found he rarely does anything without a plan so its quite safe to let him do his thing most of the time, even when at the moment it appears to go against you."
He pauses and thinks for a moment before continuing,
"Actually he has one vice, or I guess collar we can grab if we need. He has this maid, or she dresses like one and follows him around. The only inheritance he kept from his father was a few of their house staff who practically raised him. This woman is both our easiest method of control and also a wild-card. Something is off about her, but he is attached to her and she follows him everywhere, so if he gets too out of line, we can threaten her, although not lightly, because once again, he is quite attached, his reaction could be unpredictable."
The men around the table all think as the main course appears in front of them. A rare bird from a distant world, cooked to perfection with crispy skin in the fat of a different animal, with a thick glaze drizzled over the top. The side is basic roasted potatoes. The men begin eating, the skin crunching loudly, revealing the juicy and incredibly rich meat underneath. Eating away, the Director of Internal Intelligence asks,
"Are you certain he can do all the work he is needed to do?"
Director Leinscoff nods with a mouth full of bird. The only answer needed. Then Emperor Killian declares, after eating the delicate bird,
"Alright, right here I declare the founding of the Department of Interdepartmental Cooperation. We are building a new age, we are the investors and the builders, but what we need now is an architect to help us work together to build a mighty castle, and not a loosely connected house of cards..."
