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Updated: June 13, 2025
Look here; you're not going to work against this, are you? You won't advise these ci-devant Lords-Master to vote against it, when it comes up?" "Certainly not. I think your constitution Khreggor Chmidd's and Tchall Hozhet's, to be exact will be nothing short of a political disaster, but it will insure some political stability, which is all that matters from the Imperial point of view.
I am a noble of the Galactic Empire, and on this pigpen of a planet I represent his Imperial Majesty. You will respect, and address, me accordingly." Khreggor Chmidd no longer wore the gorget of servility, but, as Lanze Degbrend had once remarked, it was still tattooed on his soul. He gulped. "Y-yes, Lord-Master Proconsul!"
"Oh, no, Mykhyl; it will belong to everybody," Khreggor Chmidd told him earnestly. "But somebody will have to take care of it for everybody. That," he added complacently, "will be you and me and the rest of us here." "I believe," Yakoop Zhannar said, almost smiling, "that this freedom is going to be a wonderful thing. For us." "I don't like it!" Mykhyl Eschkhaffar said stubbornly.
If you accept, you will continue to rule Aditya under the Empire. If you refuse, you will only put us to the inconvenience of replacing you with a new planetary government, which will be annoying for us and, probably, fatal for you." Nobody said anything for a few minutes. Then Rovard Javasan, the Chief of Administration and the owner of the mountainous Khreggor Chmidd, rose.
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