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So, you may remember my award-seeking article on Civilian Vehicles in 40k.

http://www.dakkadakka.com/wiki/en/Civilian_vehicles_in_40k

Well I'm looking to follow it up with the definitive article on civilian life in 40k. It will talk about religion, economics, the law, social classes and whatever else I think of.

I'll put it up bit by bit for feedback.

Here's the teaser...

Civilians in 40k

Trooper Bremer couldn't hide his grin as the Long March pattern cargo transport lurched out of the fortress gates. Even the constant bumps could not dampen his enthusiasm as the truck bounced its way past bunkers, aegis lines and lines of razorwire. The trooper adjusted himself again among the empty barrels in the back of the truck. He'd spent three months polishing boots to get this 48-hour pass and he'd gotten a ride on the first vehicle out. He spent the next hour choking on dust until the lights of Puerto d'Morsus appeared on the horizon.
He'd been on the world of Carrib for almost a standard year but this was his first time off of the base. He hated it. The 27-hour days always left him feeling sluggish and out of synch. The hot sun made him sweat through three undershirts a day. And when it wasn't hot and humid it was pouring rain. And after the rain the biting flies came out.
But worst of all was the boredom. It had been years since any bandit or cult had been foolish enough to attack the Imperial Guard garrison. And centuries since the last civil war or invasion. So life at the camp was nothing but a series of drills and inspections and looking at the same 1000 faces, all of them in the same drab uniform Bremer wore.
Three months of polishing boots. He looked at the towers of the city. It was worth it.
Soon the truck passed through the checkpoint, a few thugs wearing the Baron's colors and armed with a mixed arsenal of autoguns and lasguns waved them through. The tailgate dropped and Bremer jumped out the back.
He adjusted his service cap and hustled away, it was the first time in over a year he was seeing people in a color other than Cadian Khaki. And such people!
There were laborers wearing coveralls in the livery of their companies, merchants in their tasteful suits, adepts in their fine robes and even a few minor nobles resplendent in their rich costumes.
And best of all were the joygirls, wearing more body paint than clothing.
He quickened his pace for the entertainment quarter, a year of back pay jingling in his pockets. He passed a group of rough-looking muscle men sporting gang tattoos and was grateful for the combat knife in his boot and the tiny stub pistol in his pouch. But more than that, he was grateful for the aquila on his breast. Even the most drugged out gang knew to give Imperial servants a healthy distance. Especially after the lesson the Arbites dealt out last year.
BOOM!
The explosion rocked the whole block. Sirens wailed and civilians ran for shelter. Bremer turned and ran back to the truck. The driver had already opened the weapons locker.
So much for civilian life.

I like it, keep it going! Is there going to be section where some Marines (or Arbites) rough up and arrest some punks with mohawks?

Really enjoyed reading that - thank you and will now check out previous work

Nice scene setter which makes me want to know more about the world - are you going to use Trooper Bremer as a plot thread as he encounters different areas /people?

Vladsimpaler wrote:I like it, keep it going! Is there going to be section where some Marines (or Arbites) rough up and arrest some punks with mohawks?

Your showing your age there...

Fantastic. I love this sort of stuff, the vehicle thread is wonderful.

The thing I wonder about quite a bit is the blurry line between Tech-Priests and Tech-Adepts, and everyday people that need to use machinery on Imperial and civilized worlds. I think it stands to reason that some citizens would be sanctioned to operate and maintain/repair technology, perhaps testing under an official Mechanicus to get the credential with periodic testing to ensure things are done according to doctrine. I imagine the system would be similar to a person being certified to repair a PC, while not actually working for the PC company. There's no way every person that flies a cargo lighter from a hive into low orbit, or the people that maintain them are full-blown Mechanicus.

Of course, the AdMech would be pretty strict about oversight, and would likely vary by sector.

Here is what I found to be an interesting thread on the RPG.net forums:

http://forum.rpg.net/showthread.php?528878-(40K)-Democratic-and-Reasonably-Pleasant-Imperial-Planets

Thanks for the kind words so far, here's part two!

Why Civilians?

As Warhammer 40k has grown from a tabletop wargame to encompass novels, video games and a whole line of role-playing games it's useful to think about the universe outside the 4'x6' tabletop.

Who build the ruins we're fighting over? What are the armies fighting for? Who makes up these forces?

And that's what this article is here for.

Rule of cool

40k has never been a realistic game, the goal has always been GrimDark science fantasy. When writing this I drew on a lot of historical empires, feudal Japan and China, the Roman Empire, even modern oppressive regimes like the Soviet Union or North Korea. Although I'll be making references to history and the real world, feel free to discard reality in the name of creating something cool.

If you want cities of black glass patrolled by warriors on rollerblades carrying shuriken catapults (as one early novel had), go for it. No need to worry about economics or physics or logic if the idea is cool enough.

But… that being said, if you want readers or players to respond to your worlds, to care about them there has to be some effort to make them credible and believable. That's not quite the same thing as realistic (this is a game where Space Elfs fight giant fungus monsters after all) but it means the society has to seem like something that could work.

And that's what I'm going to try and do.

General thoughts

"In the Grim Darkness™ of the far future there is only war"

OK, fair enough, but there has to be something to fight over, you need cities, factories, farms, you need someone to make the weapons and fill the ranks of the armies. You need a society and you need civilians.

So what is their life like? What do they do all day? Who are these uncounted trillions who make up the Imperium?

While the Imperium is vast and diverse there are still some things common to all worlds that fly the Aquila. For the vast majority of the human race the Imperium is all they know. Their education, their religion, their daily life all revolve around Imperial society and its teachings. They take for granted that Emperor is their god, that he is a demanding and vengeful god who will punish transgressors. But he is also their shield and protection.

The Imperium under siege from all sides, barbaric Orks, ravenous Tyranids, treacherous Eldar and fiercesome Tau seek to claim human lives. While the daemons of Chaos seek their souls. For an Imperial subject evil and sin are not abstract threats they are real tangible threats that sometimes take the form of 30' tall monsters smashing through the city. And this gives them a level of faith and commitment unknown to most of us 21st Century folks. Your typical Imperial Subject would sooner walk outside without pants than without a holy icon around his neck.

The Imperium is the thin line between trillions of people and certain doom.

But the Imperium is also an incredibly repressive regime with none of human rights or niceties of the 21st Century. Pretty much the only 'right' anyone has is the right to serve the Emperor. Everything else depends on how powerful you and your patrons are. You might be summarily executed to make an example to others. You can be imprisoned or tortured for crimes committed by your family, even your distant ancestors. Or you may be above the law thanks to your powerful connections.

As a wise man once said… "To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. This is the tale of these times. It is a univers you can live today if you dare – for this is a dark and terrible era where you will find little comfort or hope. If you want to take part in the adventure then prepare yourself now. Forget the power of technology, science and common humanity. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for this no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods. But the universe is a big place and, whatever happens, you will not be missed…."

Sounds like fun!

Imperial Culture vs. Local

The Imperium of Man comprises over a million inhabited worlds. On some worlds the Imperium's power can be found on every street corner and household, in others the Imperium might nothing more than a distant myth, the only sign of its reality is a once in a century sighting of a warship on patrol or a transport coming to collect tithes.

Worlds are islands separated by vast reaches of potentially hostile space and months of travel. Each has its own unique history stretching back millennia. Each world also has basic differences, perhaps the day here is just 17 hours, or maybe the gravity is a tad more than human 'standard'. The plant life might be poisonous or the air may corrode most fabrics. And whatever these differences humans there have adapted and their culture has evolved to deal with it.

That being said, there is still a common Imperial culture to be found. On some uncivilized worlds only a few places may exhibit Imperial culture, perhaps only the capital, or a space station orbiting the planet or on a few ships paying a port of call. On other worlds Imperial culture is the norm, maybe with a few local twists to it.

For the Interstellar Traveler of course the culture of local worlds is at best a curiosity, but usually an annoyance.

In the real world we have something similar. While every country, region, city and village is unique, there are some songs, books, movies, clothing that are almost universal. You can go to almost any bar in the world and play the Beatles or Bob Marley and people will smile in recognition, even if they don't speak a word of English. Kids in the far corners of the world will recognize Spider Man or Hello Kitty. And if all you're doing is going from the airport to the international hotel to a meeting it matters little what country you're in or what language they speak. You'll meet pretty much the same drivers, same hotel clerks, and same businessmen in suit where ever you go.

Similarly an Imperial traveler expects that on any world he's get in the same STC armored limo, be taken to the same sort of fortified villa and meet with people wearing robes and icons much like his.

Whatever madness is going on outside of that bubble is of no concern.

Yeah, that's part of what makes Rogue Trader so cool to me is that it actually examined what was going on at Logan's World. You see all of the different mercenaries, the pueblo-style buildings, people in a bar, then giant mechs transporting slaves and all that. Made the world seem much more "real" to me, rather than "oh hey you get 3 Guard regiments from here and it is a class 2 planet".

I feel like there should be a lot more focus on what goes on at individual worlds. Also at the same time, I'd like to read a story from a perspective of a mutant that was cast off from an Imperial city and has to live in the wilderness with other mutants, and then they stage a revolt.

Nice thread! This and your vehicle thread have given me a lot to chew on. Thanks KK!

Violence

The Imperium is a violent place. The God-Emperor is a god of war, his empire founded in blood. Pease is not even an aspiration, it leads to complacency and corruption.

Your typical Imperial city is closer to Bagdad or Ciudad Juares than Boston or Chicago. Bombings, assassinations, riots, even full street battles are common. Cities and continent on a world may go to war over resources, land or pride. Sects, gangs and noble houses settle their differences with raids and massacres. As long as things don't get too out of hand the Imperium won't object, it may even encourage it to help identify promising military units and build valuable combat experience. Even on a currently peaceful world, there are likely to be bombed out areas, abandoned towns and ruined buildings from wars already forgotten.

And of course over everything hangs the threat of invasion. At any moment the skies might grow dark with Ork Kruzers, Tyranid Hive Ships or a Chaos Black Crusade. Or maybe reality itself will rip open and daemons, Eldar or Necrons will pour out. The Emperor offers protection, but his wrath is terrible. For a typical Imperial subject a castigation by the Black Templars is little different from an invasion by the Black Legion.

So Imperial subjects are inevitably armed, even the poorest will carry a knife or homemade firearm. Workers will have regular training in militia units so that a city can raise literally millions of conscripts in just a few weeks. The wealthy will carry any number of sophisticated weapons and defenses, even in social settings. They will also be surrounded by bodyguards and their homes defended with military-grade weapons.

Large standing armies are normal on every world. Some answering to the planetary governor, others working for local authorities. In addition there will be off-world forces such as the Imperial Guard, Adeptus Mechanicus Tech Guard or other imperial factions. Even in 'peace' time an Imperial world will be more militarized than Earth was during World War II.

The Importance of Belonging

The Imperium is not fair. It's not just. It does not care about its people. And even when it does care, it is not all powerful. Your safety and freedom depend on who you are and, more importantly, who is protecting you.

So the most important thing for any Imperial subject is making it clear to everyone who or what they belong to.

Family, a guild, a church, a gang or even some arm of the Imperium is essential to enjoy any sense of security or safety. Day-to-day most Imperial subjects take pains to make sure you know who they are and where they stand. They wear uniforms, rings, seals, tattoos and other signs of belonging.

But with that membership comes the constant fear that someday you may be cast out, or, even worse, your group itself may be destroyed by a more powerful faction. Having the patronage of the Baron's 3rd Cousin's Trading House may be enough to keep the local street gang from hassling you but it won't mean anything when the Baron himself decides your Trading House is bad for his business.

Women

The Imperium is an explicitly patriarchal society where, all things being equal, leaders are expected to be male. After all the Emperor and his Primarchs were men (the 'Sanguinia Heresy' notwithstanding) thus proving man's natural role as master. Certain Imperial texts even make the biologically unlikely assertion that woman cannot accept Space Marine geneseed due to the gender difference.

Only superb political connections, breeding, patronage, skill and luck can allow a woman to rise to the top in most Imperial organizations. But rest assured those who do are forces to be reckoned with.

However with constant war draining manpower there are whole towns and cities in the Imperium where the population consists entirely of women, children and the elderly. In environments like this women are able to prove themselves. At least until the next generation of young men come of age.

The Law

There is no single system of law in the Imperium, just varying levels of authority which are not always working together.

Imperial law is the highest, trumping any local authority and at times practicality or sanity. Ancient laws, written by long-dead hands, can decide the fate of entire worlds. To make things even more Byzantine, Imperial law includes not only those rules enforced by the Administrum, Inquisition and Arbites, but also church law laid down and enforced by the Ecclesiarchy, their Witch Hunters and the Sisters of Battle.Some of those laws are brutal and inflexible, and are often disregarded in practice but you never know when someone will suddenly decide to enforce the edict that soldiers exposed to Chaos must be executed. At least these laws are generally limited to things the Imperium cares about such as taxes, respect for the Emperor and the Imperium, the safety of Imperial facilities, xenos, heretics and witches. Petty matters like drug abuse, murder among commoners and such are left to local authorities.

Below it is planetary law laid down by the governor and then local laws. Finally there is the authority who whomever controls a given district, whether it’s a mining company, a factory boss, the local gang or certain well-meaning citizens. Unfortunately for most Imperial subjects this arbitrary and personal system is the one that has the most effect on their lives.

Technology

Technology follows the same sort of split, there is standard Imperial technology which is rugged, reliable and works anywhere. Then there are local products which may be less advanced or more advanced than Imperial technology but usually rely on materials, fuels or expertise that can only be found on that world.

A planet may have skimmers and other high tech vehicles in common use, but because they require a certain rare mineral, or because they only work in that planet's intense magnetic field they are not seen anywhere else.

Institutions that function on many worlds, including trading houses and Imperial institutions will shun local workmanship for tested and reliable STC designs.

Faith

The Imperial faith has proven incredibly flexible and resilient, finding ways to adapt to countless worlds by integrating elements of existing local faiths. Quick-thinking missionaries might teach that the local sun god is just another name for the Emperor, or that the local earth goddess wed a primarch during liberation. Over time the central Ecclesiarchy will attempt to bring the faith in line with more orthodox beliefs. Usually with varying results.

Most worlds will have a few temples and cathedrals staffed by off-world priests and teaching in accordance with the rest of the Imperium. But there will also be countless shrines and cults with more divergent beliefs. Imperial cities are infested with rival sects and teachings whose self-appointed preachers jockey for converts and influence.
The Imperium will usually suffer their continuation, as long they do not vary too far. Witch hunters and Inquisitors are kept busy inspecting their sacred texts and sermons to ensure they have not crossed the line into heresy.

Classes and Caste

The Imperium does not believe in equality, it believes in rank. The law and justice depend more on who you are than what you have done. Most people are born into a class and remain in it all their lives though it is possible for the ambitious, talented and fortunate to rise and for the complacent, foolhardy and unlucky to fall.

Upper Class

At the very top are the rich and powerful, people who are not only above the law, but how literally make it. But even among them there is a hierarchy, no amount of wealth would let someone stand against the might of the Imperium.

Imperial

On any world the top caste will always be those who can claim authority from the Emperor himself. These would include Inquisitors, priests of the Ecclesiarchy, tech priests, officials, even some of their mid-ranked servants. Everyone, including the Governor himself, thinks twice before crossing an Imperial servant lest they incur the wrath of the Imperial Guard, Titan Legions, Sisters of Battle, Adeptus Arbites and/or Space Marines.

That being said, the Imperium keeps a close watch on its own. Arbites patrol the streets and monitor the Adepts' activities, Inquisitors lurk in the shadows looking for any sign of heresy and each Adept watches his colleagues for a chance to implicate or blackmail them and open the way for advancement. And wise Adepts know not to push too hard on the local authorities, after all even Imperial servants have been known to have 'unfortunate accidents'.

They're not rich, the Imperium (officially at least) encourages humility among its servants. They will be dressed in simple but fine clothing with prominent Aquilas and other symbols to show their authority. The Third Secretary in the Imperial Sub-Sector Ministry of Agriculture, Bureau of Animal Husbandry, Office of Grox Semen Assessment might not sound like much, but your local watchman only has to see the Aquila and hear the word Imperial to know not to give him a hard time.

They are found in special sections of the city reserved for Imperial offices. These sectors include not only the wargame-friendly groups we are familiar with (the Inquisition, the Muninitorum, the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Ecclesiarchy etc) but also all the mundane arms of government an empire needs. Tax assessors, health officials, census takers and thousands of other branches of the bureaucracy will be found on most worlds. The streets are watched by the Imperial Guard and Adeptus Arbites, their homes and offices follow a standard design familiar to Adepts from one end of the galaxy to the other.

Most Imperial officials have no family. The Imperium discourages outside attachments and officially encourages (though does not require) celibacy among its servants. Many are recruited from the orphanages of the Schola Progenium because they have no ties or divided loyalties. Others are sent from distant sectors far from any friends or relatives who might influence their decisions.

Those who do make a family usually do so for political reasons to further their ambitions. There's little need to marry commoners, not when they can be taken as concubines who have no rights. Children from those unions can be adopted or disowned as the official desires.

Consider them the equivalent of Roman Prefect in a vassal kingdom or Soviet officials in the old Warsaw Pact. Individually they might not be much but there's a massive organization behind them and anyone would think carefully before crossing them.

Off Worlders and Spacers

Just behind the Imperial class are those who represent powerful off-world interests, whether other Imperial planets, Navigator Houses or Rogue Traders. They have the power to cut off trade, withhold necessary commodities or even launch military action. Fortunately they rarely care about local concerns, as long as they can do business the locals will have little trouble.

Unlike Imperial officials, off-worlders dress to impress, wearing garish and outlandish outfits to accentuate their wealth and exotic origins. They are usually heavily armed showing ornate weapons with more hidden in the folds of their robes and cloaks. Their homes and offices are found in certain districts, usually close to the Imperial sector so they have a safe haven to flee to in times of unrest. Like their outfits, their homes and workplaces are oppulent and impressive.

For them family is of primary importance, it determines their power, influence and protection. They proudly wear family crests and plan marriages and alliances across generations. As with Imperial officials they are generally above the law and have little fear or regard for local authority. Most off-worlders command or represent more wealth than most locals, they would not be there if they didn't.

Think of them as foreign diplomats or powerful multinational executives in an impoverished country.

Nobility

This is where the true power on each world lies. At the very top are the Governors who rules in the Emperor's name. They may be selected by heredity, elections, contests or even randomly depending on the laws and traditions of the world. From time to time they'll be assassinated or overthrown, so long as their replacements abide by Imperial rule they'll generally allowed to take office. After all what use does the Imperium have for a ruler who cannot keep his throne? Failed rebels can only look forward to a slow death by torture, but successful ones, well obviously they wouldn't have succeeded if it wasn't the Emperor's will.

Below the Governor are layers of local government who have authority over anything from a moon, to a continent, to a hive city down to a village or neighborhood. Titles and the means of selection vary, but their role is generally the same.

The Imperium has always had a strong element of 'Roman/Medieval Times in Space' so on most worlds they will be hereditary offices, with generations of politics and grudges behind every official. They dress opulently but not outlandishly, projecting their power and office to anyone they meet. They never travel alone, always accompanied by bodyguards and flunkies. Many will remain on world for most of their lives, enjoying their lives as big fish in a small pond. Others, perhaps blocked from advancing on their world, will raise armies to join Imperial crusades or buy commissions in the Navy or Imperial Guard.

On some worlds the nobility will conform the lazy and decadent stereotypes we all expect. But others will be the product of millennia of selective breeding and genetic modifications. They are stronger, smarter and far more charismatic than we are. Improved mental pathways, photographic memories, expertly crafted features, enhanced pheromones, voices with ultrasonic rhythms to create a 'gut reaction', and then on top of that they get the best bionic enhancements money can buy. After all that some nobles are no more human than a Space Marine. Even stripped of their wealth and power they would soon rise to the top of whatever group they found themselves with.

Their real-world parallels include just about any politician or historical lord. They have absolute power over their own domain but must be cautious about overstepping their bounds.

Wealthy

Below the nobility are the rich. They have money but have not yet fought their way into the circles of political power. The ranks of the wealthy are always in transition, most have only enjoyed their wealth for a few generations, a few are entirely self-made. They long to advance through marriage or payoffs into the nobility but risk having their wealth expropriated by more connected rivals. Others will simply lose their wealth to carelessness or misfortune and fall back into the ranks of the commoners.

Their homes and clothing are expensive but cannot be too flashy lest they be accused of rising above their station.

Honored Servants

Allegiance counts for everything in the Imperium so even the servants and slaves of the upper class have higher status than the middle class or workers. Butlers, secretaries and courtesans might not be in charge, but the patronage of their masters and their access to the highest ranks gives them power above their station.

This would include Astropaths, who are little better than blind, half-insane slaves, but whose essential role in Imperial society guarantees them a gilded cage for the duration of their short lives.

(hrm, not much feedback, oh well, onward!)

Middle Class

The Imperium is a society of extremes, divided between rich and poor, powerful and powerless. But a small sliver of society manages to hold on in the middle, forever striving to rise to the top, forever fearful they will fall to the bottom.

Tradesman and Freeholders

Here we find something close to the real-world's entrepreneurial middle class. There are the folks who have built businesses and homes. They run the stores, the small workshops and farms found in the cracks between the holdings of the nobility and wealthy. They're not rich, but they aspire to rise. They have enough money for some luxuries and frivolities, but their first priority is making sure their children and grandchildren have every opportunity they can buy, even selling their second and third children into bondage with powerful houses to give them a new chance.

They're among the most vulnerable people in the Imperium, they can easily lose everything in a single day of violence. They pay their taxes and bribes for protection but know they're a secondary priority at best. Still they're almost among the most free, they're not in bondage to anyone and control their own destiny. And with luck, determination and skill they just might make it into the ranks of the wealthy.

Skilled Workers

To the Imperium the vast masses of humanity may seem like so much chattel but all but even the most dense rulers realize there are skilled workers who have value. They are the medicae, the engineers, the salesmen, the clerks, the craftsmen, the artisans, and the foremen. They are bound in the service of others, but valued and at least have the potential to rise.

They wear their uniforms and badges with pride to remind everyone they are part of a larger whole and that a powerful organization stands behind them. Most of them live in modest but comfortable dorms on the compounds where they work. As valued servants they have some freedom and education and enjoy security the freeholders will never have.

Of course it can take years to teach some skills and the Imperium is not known for its patience. So some are given implants or even have skills burnt into their brains. Invariably as these quick fixes decay they suffer neurological damage and eventually insanity and death. But even that fate is better than life as a mere laborer.

In many ways this class is the closest thing to real-world workers. The skilled workers enjoy enough income to get a bit ahead and enough freedom to enjoy some leisure. But they are always restricted by the whims of their bosses and live in fear they might lose favor and be cast out.

Holy gak this is amazing. Keep writing Kid Kyoto.

Kid_Kyoto wrote:(hrm, not much feedback, oh well, onward!)

I didn't want to interrupt the wonderful flow of ideas. Carry on, carry on!

THat's what I like to hear!

More tomorrow...

sleep now.

Great stuff, very enjoyable reading. Looking forward to more!

Lower Class

Here we find the bulk of the uncountable billions of Imperial subjects. They're common, expendible and have no more rights than what their masters grant them and no more value than what it would cost their masters to replace them.

Scribes, Laborers and Peasants

The Imperium is ultimately built on the blood and toil trillions of unskilled workers. They mine the ore, they harvest the crops, the build the machines and they process the data that keeps 41st millennium life moving.

They wear simple, functional uniforms and robes marking them as bondsmen in the service of various organizations and noble houses. They have little money and little opportunity to spend it. The Imperium has no patience for labor unions or safety regulations and has never heard of weekends. Most laborers are fortunate to have a few hours after their shift and the occasional feast day for leisure.

Laborer's lives center around the compound they work for, whether it’s a mine, a farm, a factory, a data core or some incomprehensible location of the far future. They're born in the compound clinic, play in its alleyways, study in its schools (for a few years at least), meet at its festivals, work for decades and are eventually incinerated in its furnace. For some the idea of leaving the compound is frightening and intimidating idea. Everyone knows there are daemons out there. And Orks. And why would they want to go anywhere? The compound has everything you need.

Ambitious laborers might seek a career in the defense forces, hope to be promoted to a foreman or supervisor, or even show the intelligence to become a skilled worker. They live in fear of being cast out or even worse being reduced to a servitor or slave. They have no lineage worth speaking of and favor large families. Most children follow the parents into the factory, signing work contracts at age 15 committing themselves to work for housing and medical care for the next five decades of their life. In theory they can leave once their contracts are over, if anyone is interesting in hiring a 65 year old unskilled worker.

For these lower-caste workers the law is an abstract concept, all that matters is the will of their superiors and the customs of their compound. Most crimes, even murder are dealt with within the compound, nothing short of a full-fledged rebellion would attract the attention of outside authorities.

Sadly this sort of life has a lot of real world equivalents, from feudal serfs and peasants to workers in communist collectives to the people who assemble our cell phones and computers in modern China. But as dire and dark as their lives sound it could be worse…

Slaves and Servitors

Laborers, at least on paper, are still free subjects of the Emperor, however limited those freedoms might be. But slaves and servitors are actual property, many are mind-wiped or lobotomized to keep them docile and modified with bionics and implants to make them better able to do their job. Some are grown in vats for this purpose, others condemned as criminals or rounded up from among the unwanted. Some poor souls even sell themselves or their children into bondage for a handful of thrones.

As bad as they have it, at least they're fed and have value as property. In some ways there are worse fates…

Outcasts

In an Imperium of a million worlds and countless trillions of people it's easy to fall through the cracks. Some outcasts once had homes, jobs and clans but through some transgression lost it all. Maybe they were cast out as punishment or maybe they fled before a worse fate could be planned.

Dressed in foul rags they haunt the dark corners of every Imperial settlement, they may in theory be free subjects of the Emperor but in practice no one is looking to protect them. They form gangs and tribes to watch out for each other but know that at any time the local authorities might come in and smash them.

Outcasts survive on the rubbish of Imperial civilization and by doing the jobs that no one else is willing to. They operate the grey and black market businesses people want to unwind. They might take on some extra-legal work for the powerful, knowing that if they fail their connection will be denied.

For many, their fate is to be rounded up sooner or later. Perhaps by press gangs that sell them to a mine or factory, or by some off-world ship looking for crew or maybe a tech-priest in need of raw materials for more servitors. Some might survive and prosper long enough to establish a legitimate business and rise to rank of tradesmen or even higher. But for most life as an outcast is nasty, brutal and short.

But it could worse, while their life is hard most of the Imperium is willing to ignore them, few are actually looking to kill them unlike some others…

Outlaws and Heretics

While outcasts are unloved and forgotten, and have probably broken more than a few laws, outlaws and heretics have actually managed to attract the unwelcome attention of the authorities. They prey on the weak and hope they never cause enough trouble for the local authorities to make a serious effort against them. They're constantly looking over their shoulders, not only for bounty hunters or enforcers, but also at their fellow criminals. After all there is no honor among thieves.

For a time they might succeed but eventually even the best criminal gangs will fall to the authorities or, more likely, a new rival. But it could be worse, even outlaws can harbor dreams of one day re-entering society. There are many who cannot…

Mutants

And then there's the mutants, the gene-jokes, the twists, near the bottom of Imperial society. There are many causes of mutation, generations of radiation and pollution, unstable genetic tampering and the twisting presence of the warp. But every loyal Imperial subject is taught from birth that the mark of the mutant is the mark of the Emperor's condemnation and it is their duty to stamp them out where ever they may hide.

So they flee, to tunnels deep below hive cities, to dark forests and caves outside of civilization or into abandoned ruins where they can fight or flee any normal humans who intrude. Most norms believe mutants are cannibalistic savages who attack on sight and, given how they are treated, who can blame them?

Sometimes parents try to hide mutant children, or cast them out into the shadows hoping they will be found by their own kind.

Perhaps a few mutants might have a chance to prove themselves useful, perhaps they have some mutation that makes them stronger, faster or otherwise beneficial. They might be sanctioned and earn the partonage of some powerful benefactor, but that leaves them as slaves, property of their masters. But even that is a step up from their miserable status.

Xenos

For most Imperial subject aliens are hated and feared and have about the same status as mutants. But still, Imperial edicts and Ecclesiastical commandments must sometimes bow to necessity. On some worlds trade with the Xenos is permitted or at least tolerated. Blood Axe or Kroot mercenaries might be recognized as part of the planet's military. Less intelligent or belligerent xenos might even be kept as servants, slaves or pets.

Getting near the end... good time for feedback!

Life in Puerto d'Morsus

(To see how all of this might fit together I thought I'd offer a generic location on a typical Imperial world… No points for guessing what I'm thinking of.)

Located on the southern continent of the world of Carrib, Puerto d'Morsus (or Port of Pain in the vernacular) is a valuable gateway to the forests, farms and mines of the south. From here ocean-going vessels move raw materials to the north and bring finished goods to the south. With over ten million people it is the fourth largest city on Kharib, and the largest city on the southern continent.
The ominous name is attributed to the legions of prisoners and exiles sent to carve the city out of the primeval jungles millennia ago. It is said their burial mound became the site of the Baron's palace.

The city is cresent-shaped following the shape of the bay and sandwiched between the ocean before it and the mountains to its rear. The center of the city is a sprawling transit center where caravans, airships, ocean vessels and orbital shuttles compete for space as they move their cargos. A mid-sized space port sees several cargo shuttles leave daily carrying certain rare herbs and animal pelts to orbiting traders. Markets surround the transit hub where millions of thrones change hands daily to keep the wheels of commerce and industry moving.

The streets are always clogged with overloaded cargo carriers, armored caravans returning from the interior, underpowered motor carts making deliveries and street vendors trying to make a living. Above them tower the banks and trading houses the conduct this eternal dance.

Uphill from the main city can be found the villas and palaces of the rich and powerful. High walls and even flickering void shields protect them from criminals, cults and assassins. Skimmers and fliers land in their gardens to whisk important men to their destinations without having to endure the indignity of the streets. Less important functionaries much make do with town cars or armored limosines.

As the capital of the southern region it is ruled by the Baron d'Morsus, usually a cousin or sibling of the Governor. He has authority over the entire region, within the limits set by the Governor and the Imperium itself of course. His palace sits on the highest peak overlooking the city. On a clear day he can see the lights of the northern hives on the horizon.

Puerto d'Morsus boasts a small Imperial quarter where the countless arms of the Administrum keep watch on this half of the world. A senior Adept from the Sub-Sector Capitol has theoretical command over most of the Imperial officials through in practice most of them follow the commands of their own orders and ministries. Arbites control the many gates to this sector keeping out unwanted visitors.

Neigboring the Imperial Sector is the Grand Cathedral with its towering spires and complex of monestaries, convents, hospitals, libraries, schools and orphanages. While the Imperial Sector is austere and drab, the Cathedral sector is grand and colorful, continuously impressing visitors with the power and wealth of the Ecclesiarchy.
A much smaller Mechanicus Sector borders the two. High walls allow only glimpses of the tech priests and servitors within. Only a privlaged few can gain access to this imposing complex.

The vast majority of the population are laborers in the many warehouses, packaging plants and refineries that receive shipments from the interior. They are matched by the armies of scribes and clerks who track the goods moving from south to the north and vice versa. There is a small middle class of merchants, craftsmen and freeholders along with a cadre of wealthy traders trying to work their way into ranks of the nobility.

To the west are several miles of bombed out ruins from some long-forgotten civil war. The last ten Barons have pledged to rebuild it but the outcasts and mutants who inhabit these wastes and build shanty towns from the rubble have proven unusually adept at defending their homes. The last such attempt was conducted by a cult known as the Emperor's Purifying Flame and it ended with the complete destruction of the would-be cleansers. Since then no one has been too eager to try and clear out the western reaches. The residents keep to themselves and their vice houses are a useful outlet for workers to blow off steam.

Which is a good thing because crime and violence are endemic in the slums of Puerto d'Morsus. Rival gangs kill each other for a share of the lucrative smuggling trade. Cheap borach houses lead inebriated workers to occasionally chop each other to death with the harvest blades they all seem to carry. Violence against women and children is expected from all 'real men'. Only the most spectaular and brutal killings ever earn the notice of the authorities.

And for over a century the Puritan and Orthodox sects have tried to settle their doctrinal differences through suicide bombs and the occasionally bloody raid on the other sect's temples. Off-worlders still struggle to understand exactly what the difference between the sects is and how they came to hate each other so much.

Venturing into the interior there are hundreds of isolated settlements. Usually built around a mine, a river port or a farm, these settlements are almost invariably walled and defended. The residents rarely leave, after all the wastes are dangerous and unsettled, and they have everything they need in the compound.

There are occasional reports of Orks or heretical cults in the forests and mountains, the PDF does its best to hunt them down.

Just as the city is divided, so too are military and law enforcement.

The Imperium has a small armed presence, a few hundred Arbites supplemented by no more than a few dozen Battle Sisters and a handful of Inquisition and other operatives. They are backed up by nearly a thousand Imperial Guard troops posted outside the city to protect vital landing pads and seaports. Of course in a time of crisis all Imperial Adepts can be expected to bear arms for the Emperor, though with varying levels of skill.

The largest military force is the Planetary Defense Force detachement. Most troops are sent from the north to ensure their loyalty is to the Governor and not the local authorities. Officers are regularly rotated for the same reason. The PDF detachment consists of several thousand troops whose quality and equipment is nearly that of the Imperial Guard. They lack much of the Guard's heavy artillery but they rarely face the sort of major threats which would require that sort of firepower. Unlike the Guard, who are mainly confined to their base, the PDF spends more of its time in the field, hunting pirates on the high seas, pursuing bandits in the jungles and mountains and occasionally suppressing rebellious settlements.

The Baron directly commands the Baronial Guard, enforcers who keep the peace on a day-to-day basis. They're deliberately starved of funds and thus are lightly equipped compared to the PDF or Imperial Guard. Despite their grand name most of them have little more than a worn out laspistol and an ill-fitting uniform. But they're the men on the street doing everything from directing traffic to putting down full scale riots. The Baron himself employs expensive off-world mercenaries for his personal bodyguard as he does not trust the loyalty of the PDF or the ability of the Baronial Guard.

In times of crisis the Baron can also mobilize militias and reserves, essentially conscripting the workforce of the city into a massive low-quality infantry force. This has not happened in over 300 years, since an Ork Rok crash-landed in the desert and lay siege to the city but occasional drills are held to ensure some form of readiness.

Most of the trading houses, factories, and other businesses maintain their own guard forces of varying quality. Patrols of vigilanties, little better than the criminals they claim to hunt exert control in other areas of the city. These private forces far outnumber the Baronial Guard and contribute to keeping the peace within their own domains. Cults and criminal gangs lurk in the shadows of the city. So long as no one important is harmed they are usually left to their own devices though on occasion the Baron must demonstrate his authority by making examples of some.

Outside the city various forces vie for control. Bandits and nomadic tribes (the difference is usually just semantic) control certain areas but are content to collect tolls from travelers. Unusually violent groups are bad for business and are soon put down by the PDF.

The Temple of St Ollanius Pius stands deep in the mountains several hundred miles from Puerto d'Morsus. Within its walls are hundreds of warrior priests whose skill with the chain sword and fire staff make them fearsome foes. They are generally content to remain in their bastion, communing with the Emperor and sharpening their skills but they have at times come down from the mountain to deal with some perceived injustice, usually one associated with late or insufficient tithes.

Each settlement of course has its own society. Some are company towns under the control of an autocratic administrator, others are democracies feudal estates or cults. Each will have its own militia and defenses, suffient to stand off bandits (or it wouldn't still be there) and perhaps greater threats. They're far enough from the city they do not get much supervision from planetary or Imperial authorities.

I only read the original post, but it's awesome! Keep it coming!

It reminded me a bit of Burmese Days (Orwell) with it's description of the heat and humidity on a quite undesirable Imperial outpost.

Yarrick's_Evil_Eye wrote:I only read the original post, but it's awesome! Keep it coming!

It reminded me a bit of Burmese Days (Orwell) with it's description of the heat and humidity on a quite undesirable Imperial outpost.

Thanks. Nothing quite like living in a forgotten Imperial outpost to give me the flavor!

You are forgetting the most important part, Beer and food.

This is awesome stuff KK. Puerto d'Morsus sounds like the perfect place for a Dark Heresy campaign. It is a shame that the "only war" part of Warhammer 40k is so emphasized.

It would be very cool to do a couple of "case studies." Follow the life of Garaldo Riverson, first mate of an ore barge, or Elsa the local madam at a mining town brothel. Their daily routine, how they interact (if at all) with the local authorities and the larger institutions of the Imperium. Who can they call on for help and who is most likely to cause them harm. That sort of thing. Tie it all together not only on a city or regional scale, but on a personal level.

edit

Very nice, time to read your previous submissions

Sgt_Scruffy wrote:This is awesome stuff KK. Puerto d'Morsus sounds like the perfect place for a Dark Heresy campaign. It is a shame that the "only war" part of Warhammer 40k is so emphasized.

It would be very cool to do a couple of "case studies." Follow the life of Garaldo Riverson, first mate of an ore barge, or Elsa the local madam at a mining town brothel. Their daily routine, how they interact (if at all) with the local authorities and the larger institutions of the Imperium. Who can they call on for help and who is most likely to cause them harm. That sort of thing. Tie it all together not only on a city or regional scale, but on a personal level.

That's actually a really good idea. I'll see what I can come up with.


Automatically Appended Next Post:
So I rewrote the opening to give some essentials, thoughts?

The Essentials

OK, this is going to be bit long, so let me boil it down:
1. The Imperium is an oppressive galactic empire that is near its breaking point. For its subjects life is a combination of the Roman Empire, the Soviet Union, the Crusades and a Franz Kafka novel.
2. It is however the most powerful empire the galaxy has ever seen, and still has enormous power. Not all technology is lost, not every city is in ruins.
3. It is an oppressive and insane regime but even in the darkest moments of human history there has been room for light. acts of charity, love, music and art can be found even in prison camps and warzones. Writers should remember there is no GrimDark without the light.
4. If you want readers or players to respond to your worlds, to care about them there has to be some effort to make them credible and believable. That's not quite the same thing as realistic (this is a game where Space Elfs fight giant fungus monsters after all) but it means the society has to seem like something that could work. If everyone is an insane fanatic or drooling idiot who's going to want to read more?
5. That being said, 40k has never been a realistic game, it's always been a GrimDark science fantasy. If you want cities of black glass patrolled by warriors on rollerblades carrying shuriken catapults (as seen in one early novel), go for it. No need to worry about economics or physics or logic if the idea is cool enough.

Per Sgt Scruffy, a short story on life in the Imperium.


The Driver and the Adept

Otto Nicolaus guided his Iron Ox through the crowed alleyways of Puerto d’Morsus dodging pedestrians and street vendors to slowly make his way towards the imposing Western Gate.

“Yuh okeh thah?” He asked, his accent almost impenetrable to Adept Heinrich, even after a decade in the city.

“Pardon?”

“You? Okay? There?” the road master repeated, speaking slowly and carefully with the tone of voice usually reserved for children or idiots.

“What? Yes, quite fine.” Heinrich was sitting in the passenger or ‘shotgun’ seat trying to catch a glimpse of the road through the narrow vision slit in front of him. The space in the back of the armored car was filled with crates and boxes, including Heinrich’s own tool kit, the outer hull covered in sacks and barrels. The only other place for him to ride was the running board where two rough looking men with autoguns hung. It was an uncomfortable perch but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Don’t worry, been driving fifty years. Hardly ever lost my cargo.” Otto offered. Adept Heinrich was not reassured.
Normally he would wait for a PDF or Imperial Guard convoy to leave the city but Mining Settlement #86 had a broken cognator and Adept Heinrich was one of the few who could still fix one. Until it was fixed there would be no records of production and expenditures, no way to calculate its proper tithe. So Adept Heinrich was taken from his comfortable desk where he served as deputy overseer at the Imperial Ministry of Exploitable Resources, Bureau of Mining and Minerals, Office of Tithe Assessment and put on the first vehicle out there - Otto’s Iron Ox-Pattern armored car, colloquially referred to as ‘Rude Dog’.

“Rude Dog been through a lot. Three hundred years old if he’s a day. My Great-Great got him when House Taitt was purged.”

Heinrich tried to remember who House Taitt was but could not. There were too many factions and families in the local politics for him to keep track of.

“My Grand rebuilt the engine. Good job too. Still got ‘em watching over me.” Otto pointed at the line of four skulls hanging over the driver’s seat. Adept Heinrich respectfully bowed his head and made the sign of the Aquila towards these honored ancestors. He hoped their spirits would continue watching over the battered truck for at least one more journey.
“Made my own improvements too. Rude Dog’s a survivor, they knew how to build them back then, not the cheap off-world crap you see nowadays.”

As if to underline Otto’s point they passed the burning wreck of a Hermes Towncar. A group of redemptionist cultists danced around it, occasionally pouring fuel on the flames. Heinrich wondered what had caused the violence, or if it had any cause at all.

“One time got caught by ‘dox mob.” Otto spat. Heinrich noted he wore a brass Aquila of the sort worn by Puritans rather than the silver Aquilas preferred by the Orthodox sect. Even after 10 years he still could not understand the differences between the two branches of the Imperial faith or tell you anything about them save that they despised each other.
“They were beating on the sides trying to rip my doors open so I gave ‘em a taste of the juicer, made ‘em dance like mud flitters!” Otto slapped his leg at the memory and pointed to a switch. Wires ran to several powerful batteries and then to the hull. To Heinrich’s eyes it seemed a crude but potentially effective way to deter attackers. “Ran down some of them too. Damn ‘doxers, they marry their sisters you know.”

“Yes, I have heard that.” Heinrich had also heard that Puritans copulate with pigs but decided against sharing that cultural insight.

“Nother time, caravan, wagon master was cheap y’know, too cheap, didn’t pay the bands.”

“Bands?” Heinrich asked wondering how music came into it.

“Bands, y’know, vroom! Dakka! Dakka! Dakka!” He pantomimed motorcycles attaching a caravan. “Bands!”

“Ah yes, the bandits.” Heinrich said uncomfortably. He’d heard stories about their cruelty. A few years back he’d made a similar trip to an isolated promethium rig but he’d been taken in an Imperial Guard Valkyrie with a team of heavily armed guardsmen as an escort. Of course that was before half the garrison was redeployed to Armageddon. These days the Guard Colonel said he barely had enough men to secure his own encampment much less ferry around minor Adepts.

“Bands! He cheap, he no pay, bands come outta nowhere, hundred, thousand of them. Me and the boys we dump the cargo and we run. Rude Dog take us home. Wagon Master, he truck break down in sand. Now he skull on some Band’s bike.” The driver laughed and Heinrich managed an uncomfortable chuckle.

“So, you’re not um, cheap are you?”

“Haw! You think I drive fifty years if I cheap?” He waved a hand at a collection of medallions and tokens hanging from the vehicle’s ceiling. Heinrich assumed they were the marks of different gangs he’d paid off. At least he hoped that’s what they meant. For all he knew they were just good luck charms.

“Bands no bother Rude Dog. Only Solos, and them boys” he gestured at the two road guards on the running board “they take care of Solos.”

“That’s quite reassuring.” Heinrich concluded uneasily. He remembered hearing something about solo raiders, bikers too psychotic and violent for even the bandit gangs. He prayed they didn’t run into one of them.

Still, the adept could clearly see this vehicle was centuries old and it wouldn’t still be around unless the driver knew what he was doing. And surely the Ministry would never send him out unless the driver was reputable!
Right?

Squinting through the armor glass slit he could see they were almost at the city gates. A small band of the Baron’s men were checking papers. They stopped the Macedon-Pattern cargo hauler in front of Rude Dog and an animated argument with the crew of it. Finally the driver was pulled from his seat and struck several times with a cudgel.

“You see, he cheap, he no pay Baron’s men. They gotta eat too. Now me, me no cheap.”

Heinrich sighed heavily. It was going to be a long trip.

Awesome story. North Korea with a little bit of Somalia mixed in for good measure. Makes me want to write up some stuff in this thread too, but I don't want to threadjack.

wOOOOt! Anf nobody informed me of this epicness before? Very good work

Hey Kid_Kyoto

I loved your civilian vehicle thread but I must say you've out done your self here. This is pure win, got the right mix of vagueness and detail, I can see this becoming a valuable resource to anyone wanting to create a location in the grimdarkness of the far future.

Loving the stories Puerto d’Morsus might in theory be any town 40k but still full of flavour.

This is something I'm suprised black library hasn't released in a form similar to the munitorium guide, hell the cain books make requent reference to travel guides.

I can only really think of three stories that deal with normal life of the top of my head. Two are in Let the Galaxy Burn, it's a short about a priest living in a Twist community. The second is about a modster whose boss starts using xeno tech to get an edge on his rivals.

The other is the GG series, sorry can't remember the name of the book it's a collection of shorts by other authors rather than abnett. Set in Verghast after the war and features an adept looking for a friend who went missing.

keep it up


Spank

EDIT:

Oh nearly forgot, are you going to suggest models like you did with the vehicle thread? can see civilian models being good in some homebrewed rules games

Glad to hear people like it.

I thought about suggesting models but civilian SF figures are hard to come by, if anyone has suggestions I'll take them.

Anyway, another short story showing how it all fits together.

The fact that with a few word swaps this could describe the police in many parts of the world is wholey accidental.


The Rookie
“Your uniform and your weapon.” The quartermaster said handing the young man a tunic and an autogun.

“And your ammo.” He passed over three bullets.

U’Hara looked down at them. “There’s only 3 of them.” He observed.

“Haw! Looks like you got a smart one there! Must be a mentat!” The quartermaster howled. Behind U’Hara, his new partner Gorgon also laughed.

“What were you expecting an astares bolt gun? Ammo’s precious, don’t you know there’s a war on. Now get dressed and let’s go. Don’t want to be late for your first patrol eh?”

U’Hara nodded eagerly and pulled the tunic over his grey jumpsuit, it came on easily since it was a few sizes too big. It was once a rich purple trimmed in gold, the colors of the baron. But now it was faded to a pinkish grey. In training they told him his uniform would be made from ballistic fabric that could stop most blades and small arms, but this felt like simple canvas. There was also a patched hole in the front with some dark brown stains around it. He tried not to think about it.

He loaded the rifle with all 3 bullets and slung it over his shoulder. He put on his cap and was ready to go.

They walked out of the fortified Baronial Guard station into the sweltering streets. It had just rained and now the rain was turning into steam. U’Hara began to sweat under his heavy tunic. It might not be ballistic cloth but it was hot.

Along the streets U’Hara saw the occasional cyber-skull mounted on a pole or over a doorway. When he was a kid his mother said they were the eyes of the Emperor watching diligently for crime. In training he learned they hadn’t worked in three centuries, though the tech adepts assured them they would be repaired soon.

Gorgon led him through the narrow alleys and crowded streets to jewelry shop. The shop was a low-end dealer, mainly selling gold-plated (or more accurately, gold painted) chains and icons to the masses. But even it boasted armor-glass windows several inches thick and two muscle boys carrying shot-cannons and chain axes. They looked over U’Hara and flashed smiles, their teeth were made of steel, filed to points. Gorgon motioned for U’Hara to wait near the front. He greeted the proprietor by name, and the two vanished into a back room.

U’Hara caught snatches of conversation.

“…paid last week…”

“…that was my old partner, this is for my new partner…”

“…bleeding me dry…”

“…shame if something happened…”

Finally Gorgon emerged smiling and U’Hara followed him out the door. Once they were around the corner Gorgon shoved a handful of bills into U’Hara’s pocket. “Here you go, the owner’s contribution to the watchman’s benevolent fund.” U’Hara pulled them out, “This is three hundred Eagles! That’s more than a month’s pay!”

“A month’s pay? That’s funny. Kid, we ain’t gotten any pay from the baron in a year. And that was barely a half-month’s salary. I gave up counting how much back pay I’m owed. Good thing the benevolent fund takes care of us huh? We gotta eat.”

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

“Tell you what, tomorrow I’ll take you by Enzo’s get you a real gun, and some ammo for it. Maybe even a uniform that can stop more than a butter knife.”

After several more stops U’Hara had a thousand Eagles in his pocket and from the glances he stole Gorgon had quite a bit more. They’d been ‘patrolling’ for hours and not investigated a single crime or responded to a single call. He asked about it.

“How you think we’d get a call, you have a vox caster?”

“I thought you had-“

“Mine died a couple of years ago, quartermaster says they’re on order. So we walk, and we watch. If we happen to see something, we can respond.”

As if on cue U’Hara heard gunshots a few streets away. Gorgon led him in the opposite direction.

The horizon was turning red with dusk and they turned back towards the Guard House. U’Hara looked at his chronometer, he noted they still had several hours left in their shift.

“Yes we do kid, but if you want to live to spend some of those Eagles you’ll come with me. Once it’s dark the gang-cults come out, and they don’t want to see the Baronial Guard around this part of town.”

U’Hara noted the street stalls were packing up. Steel gates were coming down in the shops. Only a few bars which displayed various gang signs seemed to be staying open. At the Guard House heavy stubbers and grenade launchers were already deployed around the entrance. Soon after U’Hara and Gorgon entered the armored doors were closed and sealed. Already Watch members were napping on benches or at their desks. Outside U’Hara could hear the crack of las fire.

Gorgon broke out a set of Royal Trumps and started a game. U’Hara joined in. From the looks of things it was going to be a long dull night.