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Updated: September 24, 2025
There would be an Employment Code Count Erskyll was invited to draw that up and a force of investigators, and an enforcement agency, under Zhorzh Khouzhik. One of Commander Douvrin's men, who had been at the Austragonia nuclear-industries establishment, was present and reported: "Great Ghu, you ought to see that place!
When the locals had been properly convinced with as little bloodshed as necessary, but always beyond any dispute an Imperial Proconsul, in this case Obray, Count Erskyll, would be installed. He would by no means govern the planet. The Imperial Constitution was definite on that point; every planetary government should be sovereign as to intraplanetary affairs.
"Nuts," his subordinate retorted insubordinately. "I know a slave when I see one. A slave is a slave, with or without a gorget; if he doesn't wear it around his neck, he has it tattooed on his soul. It takes at least three generations to rub it off." "I could wish that Count Erskyll...." he began. "What else is our Proconsul doing?"
I would further recommend that Commodore Shatrak be placed in command of it, with suitable promotion, which he has long ago earned." Erskyll was surprised that he was not himself returning to Odin on the destroyer, and evidently disturbed. He mentioned it during pre-dinner cocktails that evening.
"That's what I meant about an oligarchy," he whispered, in Imperial, to Erskyll. "Suppose we tell Ravney to herd these Lords-Master onto a couple of landing-craft and bring them up here?" Shatrak suggested. He made the suggestion in Lingua Terra Basic, and loudly. "I think we can manage without that."
But no matter what you did or did not do, this would have happened eventually." "You really think so?" Obray, Count Erskyll, was desperately anxious to be assured of that. "Perhaps if I hadn't been so insistent on this constitution...." "That wouldn't have made a particle of difference. We all made this inevitable simply by coming here. Before we came, it would have been impossible.
"Do we want to talk to them?" Shatrak asked. "Well, we should only talk to the actual, titular, heads of the government Mastership," Erskyll, suddenly protocol-conscious, objected. "We can't negotiate with subordinates." "Oh, who's talking about negotiating; there isn't anything to negotiate. Aditya is now a part of the Galactic Empire.
The speaker was a small man with pale eyes and a mouth like a rat-trap; Yakoop Zhannar, chief-freedman to Ranal Valdry, the Provost-Marshal. "Its really your idea, Prince Trevannion," Erskyll said. "Perhaps you can explain it." "Oh, it's very simple. You see...." At least, it had seemed simple when he started.
Then it is ordered so recorded." Then he had to make another speech, to inform the representatives of his new sovereign of the fact. Prince Trevannion, in the name of the Emperor, delivered the well-worn words of welcome, and Lanze Degbrend got the coronet out of the black velvet bag under his arm and the Imperial Proconsul, Obray, Count Erskyll, was crowned.
If ordered to, I believe that they would fire on their former Lords-Master without hesitation." "You told those slaves that they ... belonged ... to the Emperor?" Count Erskyll was aghast. He stared at Ravney for an instant, then snatched up his brandy-glass the meal had gotten to that point and drained it at a gulp. The others watched solicitously while he coughed and spluttered over it.
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