Chapter 57 Imperial Cabinet
"Haha! Good… good! The heavens themselves approve!"
Horus laughed aloud as he held the letter.
Although Yuki had obtained the Emperor's sanction to recall Mordecai Threxion to Terra, a suitable justification was still required. She could hardly announce to the Imperium — or to her brothers — that Mordecai was being recalled because his mental state had grown unstable and he needed distance from the front. Nor would Mordecai himself abandon his Legion without cause.
So she devised one.
Imperial Decree:
The Second Prince, of unimpeachable character and steadfast integrity, is hereby called to Terra to serve within the Imperial Cabinet. Let it be so.
"What's wrong?" Yuki smiled. "Why are you still standing there? Accept the decree."
For a long moment, Mordecai Threxion wondered if he was still half-asleep.
A cabinet?
He had never heard of such a body within the Imperium.
"Sister… my Legion…"
"Oh, don't worry." Yuki waved a hand dismissively. "My forces will reinforce the sector. If your Legion encounters serious resistance, you will be notified immediately. Nothing will be neglected."
"…Very well."
When news spread that Yuki had brought Mordecai Threxion back to Terra, the Primarchs reacted in sharply different ways.
All asked the same questions:
What was the Cabinet?
Why Mordecai?
On the surface, the Great Crusade continued in apparent calm.
Beneath that calm, however, several Legions quietly dispatched agents toward Terra to gather intelligence.
They would learn nothing.
The Cabinet had existed only within the private strategic framework devised by Yuki and Malcador. No edicts, no drafts, no preliminary institutions had preceded its announcement.
It appeared fully formed.
In Yuki and Malcador's design, the Cabinet was a transitional instrument — a bridge between the Imperium's current autocratic war structure and a future administrative state capable of governance beyond conquest.
Its purpose was simple:
to reduce friction between military authority and civil administration.
Thus, most Cabinet members could only be Primarchs.
Had ordinary humans been elevated over them, the Legiones Astartes would see it as mortal bureaucrats reaping the rewards of their bloodshed. But if authority rested in the hands of Primarchs, resentment would be blunted — redirected at most into rivalry among brothers rather than rebellion against Terra.
The resulting political tension would shift:
from Astartes vs. civilian authority
to internal court rivalry.
Even as military authority was gradually redistributed, the Legions would not believe the Emperor had abandoned them. Instead, they would assume a brother had taken up the mantle of governance.
This made the transition survivable.
Yet this solution created a new danger:
How could rivalry between Primarchs be contained?
That burden fell to Yuki — and for now, none but she possessed the influence to restrain such tensions once ignited.
The Cabinet itself was never meant to be permanent. In time, when the Imperium matured into a stable administrative order, a representative structure could supersede it.
But that future lay far beyond the present age of conquest.
On the first day after returning to Terra, Yuki formally announced the establishment of the Imperial Cabinet.
Its authority stood beneath that of the Emperor and was charged with coordinating the civil administration of the Imperium.
At the same time, Chancellor Malcador was appointed Chief Minister.
Of all who received the news, Horus was the most delighted.
He immediately grasped the implications.
The Cabinet now performed many duties once consolidated under the Sigillite. Though Malcador remained its head, his authority was no longer absolute. Power had been diffused.
A quiet demotion.
A masterstroke.
Horus believed neither the Emperor nor Yuki could be blind to Malcador's ambitions. Surely they had already discerned his manipulative tendencies and moved to curb them.
Furthermore, Mordecai Threxion's appointment removed him from contention in the Warmaster succession. With a brother inside the Cabinet, Malcador's maneuverings could be checked from within.
A triple blessing.
Horus struggled not to laugh in public.
Yet one question lingered:
Why Mordecai?
Among the returned Primarchs, both Mordecai Threxion and Fulgrim possessed exceptional administrative ability. Each had unified his homeworld before rediscovery. Why had Fulgrim been passed over?
Horus resolved to write his brothers.
And to send congratulations to Mordecai — along with a discreet warning regarding Malcador.
"Brothers, what do you make of the Cabinet… and of our second brother's appointment?"
Fulgrim read Horus's letter and released a soft, bitter laugh.
He shared Horus's view. He believed himself equally suited for such a role — yet his sister had bypassed him.
"Akulduna…"
Fulgrim slumped over the table, silver hair spilling like liquid starlight.
"Does my sister… dislike me?"
Akulduna, Second Captain of the Third Legion and a warrior twice crowned for valor, stood nearby. On the day Eussons had challenged the Primarch, he had been deployed alongside the Tenth Legion and had only recently returned. Now he served as his gene-father's adjutant.
"Hmm… difficult to say," Akulduna replied.
He was a formidable warrior, but subtlety was not his strength.
"How could that be? Father, no one could hate you," Lucius said smoothly, watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement.
Akulduna considered.
"I could ask Eussons."
He and Eussons had shared a dormitory at the military academy. Their bond was closer to brotherhood than friendship. If anyone understood the Princess's thinking, it would be him.
Lucius snorted.
"They wouldn't spare us a glance."
"I think he respects us."
"That's what you call respect?"
"…Yes."
When Akulduna heard that Eussons had routed elements of the Third Legion without even drawing his sword, his first reaction had been disbelief.
Had Eussons grown weaker?
Knowing both Eussons's ability and his brothers' skill, Akulduna judged that facing three opponents simultaneously without drawing a blade was restraint — not limitation.
"Enough."
Fulgrim felt his emotions growing increasingly unstable.
Some time ago, he had asked Captain Torgaddon — Tavitz — about perfection.
"I've never thought about it," the captain had answered.
"Why not?"
"Father… why must we pursue perfection? Isn't it enough to do what is required of us?"
Fulgrim had found himself unable to reply.
He had long admired the captain as one of his finest sons — yet the man had never even considered being the best.
Fulgrim recalled Yuki's words:
"If everything you do is in pursuit of perfection itself, you have already strayed from its true path."
In Tavitz, he saw the weight of that truth.
Recently he had abandoned opera, sculpture, and performance. Instead he found himself contemplating his future — and his failings.
Then came news of Mordecai Threxion's appointment.
"What should I do?" Fulgrim murmured.
"Sister… what path do you wish me to walk?"
"Are you certain?"
Mordecai Threxion sat rigidly, studying Yuki across the table.
Yuki blinked innocently.
"Would I lie to you?"
In truth, Mordecai had intended to prepare for his first Cabinet session — until Yuki halted him.
"Oh dear. Shouldn't a statesman conduct proper research before governing worlds?"
He conceded the point.
But three months studying agricultural worlds of exceptional fertility?
"Mordecai pressed his brow. "Sister… stop jesting."
"I am perfectly serious."
Silence lingered.
Then Yuki asked softly:
"Mordecai… do you believe yourself a god?"
"No." The answer came instantly. As a champion of Imperial Truth, he rejected divinity outright.
"Then why must you be omnipotent?"
"I am not omnipotent. But I am the strongest. I—"
He stopped.
As Primarch, he bore the burden of every failure. If he did not carry it, who could?
"Are you?" Yuki leaned back. "If that is so, then the one above you is me. Above me is the Emperor. So all failures belong to Father?"
"Sister, I…"
Yuki leaned forward and embraced him.
"Mordecai… you are more ordinary than you allow yourself to be. You do not possess Father's power, Fulgrim's beauty, or Russ's prodigious capacity for drink…"
She laughed softly.
Mordecai could not help but laugh with her.
He looked down at the crown of her head.
"So trust us, Mordecai. None wished for those tragedies. No one blames you. If you have done your utmost, then your conscience remains clear… does it not?"
"Sister."
"Hmm?"
"You possess a strange magic… the power to make others lower their guard… to be themselves in your presence."
She released him.
When their eyes met again, she saw the sorrow still lingering within his.
"My story, sister… would you hear it?"
Visit patreon.com/ShiroTL for more chapters.