Editing Tytania:Volume 1 Chapter 1 (section)

=== IV ===
The Vardana Empire reigned over 148 inhabited planets across 90 star systems. It had a total population of six hundred billion people, making it the largest society in mankind, both in territory and population. Over 18 generations spanning 388 years since its foundation, its history was only second to the Kingdom of Angletur, establishing it as an unshakeable superpower.

However, beneath that surface lay another truth. In essence, Vardana was merely Tytania’s headquarters. Whether in terms of financial resources, military might, or scientific and technological advances, should Tytania be excluded, Vardana would amount to nothing more than a second-rate power.

“Tytania chose Vardana. Not the other way around.”

Boastful rhetoric was Tytania’s chronic flaw. It had been almost a tradition since Neville, the founder, and that remark was but another example of it. It showed no consideration for how a listener might perceive it. After all, the very essence of Tytania was its haughty spirit that was able to say things like “the lamentations of our defeated foes are a pleasure to our ears”. Such a thing as a timid Tytanian didn’t exist in the world of men. Should even a crack appear in their resolve, Tytanian supremacy would crumble without as much as a sound and be reduced to cosmic dust.

“Cruelty is preferable to weakness.” This one statement would soon find an opportunity to be proven true.

On the 27th of May of that year, an event took place that was impossible to overlook in the history of the Vardana Empire.

It was originally meant to be a celebration. It was Emperor Harsha VI’s birthday, and envoys from every planet within the empire and also other nations were sent to the court. Planet Ryutehi, the capital of Vardana, was filled with bustle, and Pavienne<ref>“Crystal palace” (水晶宮) is here pronounced “Pavienne”.</ref>, the crystal mansion that served as an imperial palace, was swamped by waves of adorned crowds.

The military uniform of the Vardana Empire was a dull orange. Floating in this sea of orange like grey islands were, of course, the uniforms of Tytania. This distinction made Tytania’s presence in Vardana obvious, even to a child’s eye.

On that largest island were the heads of the Five Families of Tytania. Ariabert, Jouslain, Zarlisch, Idris, and Ajman the Landless Clanner. Even they, in such a time and place, observed the rituals of the subjects and stood to greet the emperor.

The title of Landless Clanner came precisely from the fact that he held no fief granted by the emperor. Of course, Tytania possessed numerous lands and estates, but no such thing as a “vassal kingdom” or a “vassal territory”.

Tytania’s sources of income were her own enterprises in spacefaring, commerce, security, planetary development, and so on, as well as tolls. The latter in particular was a demonstration of Tytania’s power and influence. Space wasn’t a free and ownerless expanse, but Tytania’s garden. When seen in this manner, one could understand the implication of the “Landless” title. It meant that Tytania had no need for land.

Tytania paid homage to the Vardanan Emperor, but it was purely a matter of form. For Tytania, formalities were trivialities.

“His Majesty Harsha II was far too indulgent. He should have crushed Tytania’s head from the beginning and never allowed them to run so rampant.”

The courtiers of the Vardana Empire were lamenting in secret. To them, their laments were perfectly justifiable, but in essence, they were but the pathetic exercise of reaffirming their own powerlessness. Their ancestors had defied Tytania’s despotism, forcing the second lord, Nuri, to drink blood from the cup of purge. They were now bound by Tytania’s chains, only permitted to whisper among themselves, jumping in fear that the object of their slander might hear them.

Clad in the shining military regalia of the Imperial Grand Marshal, Emperor Harsha VI appeared on the stairs. Following three paces behind the Emperor was his Prime Minister Salomon, dressed in the civil officer’s ceremonial robes. He was a man in his mid-sixties, lean, with hair streaked with grey.

As time passed in empty formalities, Ajman eventually stood directly below the stairs and presented to the Emperor a black pearl from planet Igipten.

“This is but a humble offering from Tytania that we present before Your Imperial Majesty. It would be an honour if you would accept it as a token of our loyalty.”

“Hum, declining the kindness of the overlord would be discourteous, so I shall gracefully accept it.”

It was an answer devoid of any personality, but it was the best the Emperor could muster.

There were gifts, in the literal sense, meant to curry favour, and mere appendages to the formalities of etiquette. The Emperor knew this quite well. Although he was five years younger than Ajman, he appeared to be the elder. Not because he had personality, but because he lacked lustre.

“To be truthful, I have also prepared another gift to present to Your Majesty that is far more substantial.”

“Oh, and what might that be?”

“A century of peace and prosperity for the Empire.”

Upon these words, Ajman called for Idris Tytania. The young and handsome duke stepped forward on his invitation, followed by his subordinates, who advanced towards the stairs. Above, the Emperor seemed to hold his breath.

One of Tytania’s privileges was the right to bear arms within the palace. Sixteen guns, not rayguns, but heavy powder-charged guns, were drawn from their belts, their muzzles aiming at Prime Minister Salomon.

A series of gunshots filled the hall.

Ninety-four bullets were fired. Eighty-one struck the Prime Minister’s body, thirty-three passed through, and forty-eight remained lodged. As blood spurted from one hundred and fourteen wounds, the Prime Minister collapsed. His own blood embraced him upon the floor.

When the smoke and stunned silence subsided, the Emperor’s voice and body shook violently.

“What have you done, Oh Landless Clanner? You have harmed my Prime Minister!”

“For the sake of the Empire and Your Imperial Majesty, though unworthy, I have executed a traitor. While my methods might be somewhat lacking in poetry, I consider it to be the greatest gift for the Empire’s tranquillity.”

Ajman proceeded with composure to give an explanation to the pale emperor. The Vardana Empire and Tytania were akin to two inseparable twins. Prime Minister Salomon, driven by selfish ambition, sought to seize power for himself and to drive a wedge between them. The evidence and the witnesses made his guilt obvious, hence his execution.

“But, but why not issue a warrant for his arrest, prosecute him, and put him on trial? Shooting him dead without even a warning shows contempt for law and order… nay, it shows an impatience that is unbecoming of an overlord.”

“To prosecute and put on trial a person whose guilt is obvious would be a waste of time and money.”

Without any mercy, Ajman’s brief remark pulverised the Emperor’s bravery without a noise.

The Emperor collapsed on his throne. He appeared drained and exhausted, like a portrait painted in faded and discoloured pigments.

“I understand your words very well, overlord. You made Salomon pay for his crimes. But it is a lamentable fact that the seat of the prime minister, pillar of the Empire, now stands vacant. I do trust you, overlord, to offer me beneficial counsel regarding whom I should appoint to this heavy responsibility, so what say you?”

“Then I shall offer my advice. I believe that Marquis Clearchus is the most suited man for the position of Prime Minister.”

Clearchus was a person under Tytania’s influence, a fact that was well known to Harsha VI. But if he rejected the new Prime Minister’s appointment on that basis, the Emperor would be risking his own life.

Tytania’s intentions were all too clear. They came here right after their unexpected defeat in the Cerberus Sector at the hands of Euria, a weak enemy. Tytania knew that Prime Minister Salomon was harbouring anti-Tytania sentiments, so they seized their own defeat in Cerberus as an opportunity to pre-empt any anti-Tytania action from Salomon and demonstrate their ability to intimidate all opposition. No, maybe their intentions were even more ruthless than that. Maybe Salomon, who harboured resentment towards Tytania, had been kept alive until now precisely to serve as a sacrificial goat for such a situation?

Whatever the case was, one thing was certain. Even if Salomon’s death was a crime, no punishment for it would ever be given. Punishment was something the strong inflicted on the weak, and no one stronger than Tytania existed within the human realm.

Harsha VI nodded. He erased his facial expression and kept nodding at the overlord’s voice like a perfect puppet. Ajman threw a glance at his kinsmen with a wry gleam in his eyes.

“Lord Idris, His Imperial Majesty has given his graceful command. You have been appointed as Commander of the Imperial Guard. Humbly accept this honour, and serve His Majesty with your uttermost devotion.”

Thus addressed, Idris Tytania solemnly bowed to the Landless Clanner before proceeding to carry out his first duty. Snapping his fingers, he commanded his men to carry Salomon’s corpse out of the palace.

Yet another gram of hatred and resentment was added to Tytania’s annals. Jouslain slightly closed his eyes as he thought about the future. A day would come when the weight of a single straw would break the giant elephant’s back. That day might be tomorrow, he thought.