Chapter 7: The Brutal Tax System

The Imperium's taxation system is divided into four tiers and sixteen levels.

Apart from the fourth tier, which grants special tax exemptions and only has one level, the other three tiers have five sub-levels: elementary, intermediate, superior, advanced, and elite.

The tax levels from the first to the third tier correspond to different world classifications.

For example, civilized worlds, agri-worlds, hive worlds, feral worlds, and even low-tier death worlds.

Forge worlds, shrine worlds, and certain worlds granted special exemption don't have to pay taxes.

Urth is a mineral-rich world, but in terms of development, it barely qualifies as a low-tier hive world, fitting within the second-tier elite tax level.

However, the Administratum had now elevated Urth's tax classification to first-tier superior, a sudden leap of three levels, which was simply outrageous!

This meant that Urth would need to send countless citizens to work night and day mining every last resource from the planet. Blood would flow, and people would perish, yet they'd barely scrape together enough to meet the tax demands.

The Imperial Tithe also included human resources.

For a first-tier superior tax classification, the population tithe would be immense — Eden would be required to give up at least one-tenth of the planet's population!

With such a heavy tax burden, even if the planet didn't collapse immediately, it wouldn't be long before Urth's civilization would be on the brink of extinction.

And that was assuming the tax could even be collected successfully.

More likely, rebels would storm the palace, beheading Eden, the Planetary Governor.

But even killing him wouldn't change anything — the taxes would still have to be paid, and the people of Urth wouldn't escape their grim fate.

Unless he could somehow convince the Administratum on Holy Terra to reassess and lower the tax rate.

"This is just pushing people to their deaths..."

Looking around at the servitors endlessly working in the archive, Eden felt a chill run down his spine.

There's no way we can pay these taxes!

Eden pressed the call button on the desk, and soon, the elderly administrator, Old Mike, walked over, bowing respectfully.

"Governor, what can I do for you?"

"Send a formal petition to the Administratum on Holy Terra. Inform them that Urth cannot bear such an exorbitant tithe and urgently requests a reassessment of the tax rate!"

"Huh? You want to send a letter to Holy Terra? That's impossible... the Emperor above, it can't be done..."

Old Mike muttered nervously, his mind seeming a bit unhinged.

What's going on?

We can't contact Holy Terra?

Suppressing his anxiety, Eden softened his tone to seem as calm as possible. "Could you explain why we can't send a message to Holy Terra?"

Old Mike looked terrified. "Because... because the Emperor has abandoned us. We are sinners!"

"This is the Emperor's forsaken land; He has abandoned His flock!"

"The Chaos monsters will kill us all!"

Seeing Old Mike grow more frantic and deranged, Eden nearly reached for his gun.

Is this old man a heretic?

If what Old Mike was saying was true, Urth might be in serious trouble!

"Old Mike, stop spouting nonsense!"

Bayev entered the room, sharply rebuking Old Mike.

Old Mike immediately quieted down, bowing his head to Bayev. "Steward..."

Bayev patted Old Mike on the shoulder, speaking gently. "Go take a rest, I'll handle the Governor's instructions."

"Oh, alright..."

Old Mike left the room, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Bayev, watching him leave, turned to Eden and explained, "Old Mike lost his mind a few years ago and has been talking nonsense ever since."

So, he's just a madman, Eden thought with relief.

For a moment, he really believed Urth had lost contact with Holy Terra, which would have been a massive problem. If it were a Chaos incursion, it would have spelled disaster.

"Spreading heretical rumors should have resulted in punishment, but he's served the family for over a century and once took a blade for the Grant bloodline. He's earned his keep."

Bayev continued, "So, we let him handle the archives, where he only has to deal with servitors. A few ramblings don't hurt anyone here."

The Grant family seems quite compassionate, Eden thought, having no memories of Old Mike.

He nodded in agreement.

Bayev then turned to Eden and asked, "What did you need Old Mike to do?"

Frowning, Eden responded, "I wanted to file a petition to Holy Terra. Urth cannot bear the Imperium's tax burden."

In truth, Eden had little hope the petition would succeed. It was merely a gamble.

After all, requesting a change in tax status would imply the Administratum had made a mistake, which would require someone to take responsibility.

Getting an Imperial official to admit fault was nearly impossible.

They could simply ignore the request or endlessly delay the approval process.

With bureaucratic red tape spanning decades or even centuries, many mistakes were never held accountable.

By the time Urth's resources were depleted or rebellion broke out, it would be too late. The planet would be wiped out naturally.

The Imperium ruled over millions of planets, and its territory was constantly expanding. At every moment, worlds perished for one reason or another.

By the time news of Urth reached Holy Terra, who knew how many years would have passed?

Urth was just a lowly hive world, and if it were to be destroyed, the suffering and death of its billions of people would amount to little more than a footnote in the Administratum's records.

That record would likely be sealed away in some dusty file, never to be opened again.

At that moment, Eden realized the weight of his position. The decisions he made could affect the fate of billions on this planet.

The pressure was suffocating.

What should I do?

"Governor, there's no need to file a petition," Bayev said confidently.

"We have to try something," Eden replied anxiously. "At this rate, we won't even make this quarter's tax payment!"

"Taxes?"

Bayev looked at Eden in surprise. "You're referring to the tithe?"

"Is there a problem?"

"Have you forgotten something?"

Bayev's heart raced. Ever since yesterday, the Governor had been acting strange, almost as if he were a different person.

Seeing Bayev's reaction, Eden realized it must be a memory lapse causing him to act out of character.

What exactly was he missing?

He hesitated, debating whether to reveal part of the truth to ease Bayev's concerns.

If they could openly communicate, it might help prevent any major errors caused by this memory fog.

"Governor?"

Bayev looked at Eden with concern, fearing that something was seriously wrong with the last of the Grant bloodline.

Eden snapped out of his thoughts and decided to be somewhat honest. It wouldn't help to keep dragging this out.

"I have forgotten a few things," Eden said, pointing to his head. "It's probably a side effect of my psychic awakening..."

Awakening as a psyker was incredibly dangerous. It meant communication with the Warp, often leading to terrible consequences.

These consequences could range from psychic instability, resulting in violent outbursts, to outright corruption into a monstrous entity.

Losing a few memories was actually a fortunate outcome.

"Memory loss?"

Bayev scrutinized Eden nervously. After a long pause, he finally relaxed and suggested, "This is no small matter. We should ask Bishop Doni to take a look at you."

"No problem," Eden nodded, steering the conversation back to the main issue. "But for now, let's focus on the taxes. What's going on?"

Bayev dropped a bombshell.

"Actually, you don't need to worry about the taxes anymore. We're no longer required to pay them."

"What?"

(End of Chapter)