“Don’t worry! That’s a smoke grenade!”

- Lieutenant Yosaf, right before being killed by a shrapnel grenade.

As Alexander Wolf was making his daring escape from the Darkbane Prison, one of the people he wanted to kill was sitting in his newly constructed palace, and he was about to start a really important meeting. 

After the Baron became the Count, even as the blood of the protestors and alleged traitors were still being washed off the streets, Count Lamb began working on building his new home. In the past, as the home to the ruler of an entire solar system, Wolf Den was definitely anything but small. Still, it was of modest size and luxury, and it paled in comparison to the home of many other Imperial Nobles, even those of lesser rank and prestige than Lord Wolf. 

Since his superior went the modest route, as Wolf’s subordinate, Lamb had no choice but to remain modest as well. Lord Wolf was a good leader, but living a more luxurious life than your leader was never a good thing, no matter the circumstances. 

Of course, like everything else, that changed. Count Lamb didn't even have to ask for it. Countless people, from lesser Imperial Nobles to officials within the Obsidian System, came to Lamb with proposals. They offered to pay for a palace worthy of a hero like the Count while asking nothing in return. Supposedly, it was an act of goodwill and respect. In reality, these people just hoped it would make sure they would have the good favor of their new Lord. Imperial credits were good, but they were a worthy price to pay in exchange for survival. 

Even other Counts and Dukes made similar offers. In this age, those with power had everything, including respect. Especially respect. Architects and artists who were known for their work throughout entire planets were summoned by their Lords and shipped over to System Obsidian in droves so Lamb could choose from them those he saw fit to work on his new home. 

In the end, in less than a month, what was left of Wolf Den was torn down and replaced by a palace twenty times its size. Before the construction, half the CSF was deployed to ensure that the new palace had enough space. Fully armed troopers went to the buildings that were located near the site and told the owners they had 24 hours to leave. There was no compensation. No promise of relocation. As far as the higher-ups could see, these people should be honored that their homes would be demolished for the construction of the crown of the Count. It should be a privilege, and for the owners, doing anything but thanking their Lord and leaving was treasonous and punishable. 

Many protested, but no one important cared. At the end, when the anger passed and reality set in, everyone obeyed, for there was nothing else for them to do. 

In order for the construction to be done as quickly as possible, those who wanted to impress the Count used every single tool they had at their disposal. Thousands of construction vehicles were marched into Valoria, accompanied by ten times the number of transport ships and vehicles that carried the Type III Alloy needed for the project. Hundreds of thousands of construction workers were employed. They were divided into four groups and put to work, ensuring that the construction would go on non-stop. All in all, billions of Imperial credits were spent.  

Ultimately, a palace more magnificent than anything Lord Wolf ever built was raised from the ground. Having learned from his predecessor, Lamb ensured that the palace was as protected as he could make it. There were five perimeter lines across the palace, each capable of stopping an Armored Regiment for minutes. The palace itself had multiple built-in shield generators, so blasting it from orbit was impossible. Even if the shields failed, the exteriors and blast doors of the building were constructed almost entirely by Type III Alloy, the same material used on Imperial Dreadnoughts and other capital warships. 

Gerard Wolf had a unit of honor guard numbered around the hundreds. Count Lamb filled his honor guard, known as the Unbroken, with 3,000 of the best and most trustworthy warriors in System Obsidian. They secured the palace 24/7 while armed with modified Power Armors and Gauss weapons, ensuring the survival of their Lord by any means necessary. 

Lord Lamb was satisfied with the palace he was gifted. He named the palace the Seat of the Righteous and promptly rewarded those who paid for its construction. After that, he moved his seat from the Obsidian High Command to the Seat of the Righteous and handled all his affairs there.

As Alexander’s Disciples converted the crew of the transport vessel, Lord Lamb found himself sitting in a large conference room. A portrait of the Holy Emperor hung behind him and looked over the desk as well as everyone seated there. There were over two dozen men and women around the table. They were some of the most powerful individuals in the solar system, but even now, all of them sat up straight in their seats. They all knew that the only reason they were alive, as well as in this position, was because Lord Lamb willed it. It would serve them well to remember that. 

They weren’t the only ones at this conference. Despite being in the heart of his palace, Count Lamb made sure to never make the same mistake his predecessor did. The conference room alone packed almost twenty Unbroken honor guards, all of them in Power Armors. Their weapons were aimed at those sitting around the table. If anyone tried an assassination, well...things would get ugly very soon. 

There was also a group of 100 Unbroken guards down the hall that could arrive into the conference room within 30 seconds of being summoned. They were fully armed and armored as well. 

Yet, even as seconds turned to minutes, Count Lamb didn't begin the meeting, and as he sat there in silence, the other officials and commanders in the room couldn’t help but exchange glances of confusion. Despite all of them being quite busy individuals, none of them raised a voice of inquiry. 

The only exception was a woman sitting close to the head of the table just beside Lord Lamb himself. Like Lord Lamb, the woman had blonde hair. She wasn’t exactly young, but all the beauty products and surgeries a woman in her position had available made sure no one could come to that conclusion based on her appearance. 

Her name was Laurel Lamb, and she was the sister of Count Lamb and an Admiral in Battlefleet Obsidian. Following her brother’s ascension, she was made the Vice-Commander of the Battlefleet and monitored it on her brother’s behalf. 

Unlike the others in the room, Laurel was quite aware of why her brother was silent. She stole a glance at an empty chair placed in front of her across the table. Someone was supposed to be seated there. Someone...special. 

She turned and glanced at the Count before raising a question, breaking the silent tension that had taken hold in the conference room and startling many of the officials and commanders in the process. 

“I can go check on her…”

“No. I will go.” Count Lamb cut his sister off before rising from his seat. He scanned those around the table. “Laurel, follow me. The rest of you, please wait here.” 

The Lord’s tone was polite, but the others knew this was not a request. They simply nodded in unison and observed as Count Lamb and his sister left the conference room. Even then, none of them said anything to each other. The honor guards in the room weren’t blind and deaf, and even if they were, who knew how many cameras and microphones the Count had in this room? 

The Seat of the Righteous was almost as tall as it was wide. At its highest point, the palace reached a stunning height of 700 meters, featuring almost a hundred floors. The conference room was located on the 20th floor. The two Lambs made their way out of the room and headed for the nearest elevator. Two Unbroken followed them, maintaining a distance of three meters to ensure maximum privacy while allowing themselves to provide protection at a moment’s notice. 

The two Lambs remained silent as they got onto an elevator. Count Lamb pressed a button, and the elevator raced upward and took both Lambs all the way up to the 90th floor. 

“Wait here.” Count Lamb declared as the two of them exited the elevator and stepped into a long hallway decorated with all sorts of paintings and sculptures. The two honor guards obeyed. Count Lamb and Laurel continued moving, coming across multiple squads of Unbroken before reaching their destination: a door that was guarded by four Unbroken honor guards. 

“My Lord.” One of the honor guards greeted Count Lamb. The expression of the guard was hidden behind her helmet, but it was obvious that she was a woman, much like everyone else in this detachment of Unbroken guards. 

A full unit of female combatants was rare in the Holy Phoenix Empire, but it wasn’t unseen before. Ironically, gender equality was much more present in the brutal regime of the Holy Phoenix Empire than in the Republic of Dorn or the UWK. The Empire was a true meritocracy. No one cared if you were a man or a woman. If you had value and power, then you would rise. If not, well...men and women alike would be oppressed mercilessly. 

It was true that in most cases women were weaker than men in terms of strength and endurance, but a gauss round fired by a woman was as dangerous as if it was shot by a man. And when it came to scheming and backstabbing...the tragic tale of Gerard Wolf was a perfect example.

“Captain.” Count Lamb nodded at the guard captain before glancing at the door. “Is she in there?”

“Yes sir.” 

“Very well.” Lamb nodded before reaching out and pushing the door open. He took a step and made his way into a mansion of endless luxury and comfort. 

Immediately to the side of the door was a giant kitchen that could fit a team of 50 cooks. A shiny chandelier hung from the ceiling, capable of illuminating five separate floors. On one side of the mansion was a giant stainless window that stretched all the way across the room. Like all the other windows in the palace, it was made of the material used on warship bridges designed to stop torpedo explosions and lance battery hits. A set of stairs circled around a pole at the center of the room, granting access between the five floors in the mansion. 

Any piece of furniture in here could feed a family of four if sold on the black market. In fact, all the snacks and drinks around here were from a luxurious brand devoted to serving Imperial Nobles. Each of them was worth a ton of Imperial credits.

And it was all devoted to one person. 

Lamb and Laurel looked around the mansion before landing their eyes on a sofa decorated by the fur of an Angelia Hawk, a type of hawk almost hunted to extinction for its, well, gorgeous white fur. On the sofa sat a young woman. Like the two Lambs, she had blonde hair, except her blonde hair was tied into a ponytail behind her head. She was reading an ebook on a Mobile Interface. Hearing the door open, she looked up and found himself staring at two of the most powerful people in the system. 

“Aunt Laurel.” She greeted Laurel Lamb first before turning to the Count himself. She paused before uttering a single word.

“Father.”