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So, here is a rough idea of what I've got in mind:

The Governor of the planet Gdankas and his gentry declare independance from the Imperium's tyranny. They must then set about purging the Imperium's agents (in the form of the Arbites, Commissariat, Inquisition and so forth), to leave worship to the Emperor free of the Imperium's twisted teachings. Naturally this will tear the citizenry apart, especially when these obscure cults and nests start springing up...

Here is an idea for a prologue of sorts:

“It would appear to me, gentlemen, that the Inquisitor is causing quite a fuss.”
Governor Marciniak looked around as his words sunk into the brains of his fellow officials, generals and traders. He knew that what he was saying was inflammatory; to speak ill of an Inquisitor was to invite the wrath of the Ordo Hereticus, if you were lucky. Rumours of murders and the work of the Assassinorum were rife within the Hartknell system these days.

Clearing his throat, he began again, his paper-thin moustache swaying as his lips moved. “Now I know what you think. The system is going down the plughole faster than you can say ‘heresy’ and the strain is showing here. We’ve all seen the hunger riots; we’ve all watched the news reports. The Imperium’s grip has reduced our basic standards of living to well below the poverty standard, and I don’t know how much give we, the people of Gdankas, can withstand.”

The assembled gentry, all gathered in the large study in front of the Governor, nodded in apprehension of what was being said. Lawlessness was beginning to rule the lower hives, and there appeared to be nothing they could do about it.

A faint clutter interrupted the Governor’s thoughts, and he looked around, fearing that his speech opening had already invited somewhat stealthier opponents than the Inquisition. To his relief however, it was his wife, the Governess Deliza, carrying a glass tray with shot glasses of Vostroyan Rahzvod. She had promised to serve to them personally, despite Marciniak’s endless refusals. Nobody could trust the civilians and retainers anymore, especially after General Lizbonne’s aide poisoned his family with unknown venoms and claimed worship to the Three Circles.

“As I was saying,” Marciniak spoke once more, nodding to his beloved in a symbol of thanks, “We all know that there are some… peculiar… influences upon Gdankas, which the Arbites and Town Watches have discovered. Cults of the Three Circles and the Flaming eye, nests of obscure alien things and political movements of the… hehehe… Pro-democratic.”

At the mention of the voting revolutionaries, the assembled gentry chuckled quietly. Dislike of the Imperium was one thing, trying to break the system was another entirely.

“Now, with all of these groups taking control of the uncouth masses in the lower hives, and the Inquisition and the Administratum pressuring the elite in the upper hives, I must ask you all a very serious question. Come closer, I need you all to hear this.”

The gentry huddled into a loose circle, with Governor Marciniak at its eye. His next words were quiet, but held a message that hit harder than a rampant mutant.

“Are you servants of the Emperor, or are you servants of the Imperium?”

These words had a mixed effect on the gentry. Some spoke quickly, and the words ‘Emperor’ and ‘Imperium’ drifted though the gathering. Some were puzzled, and muttered to others the question of how the two were different. Others smiled, knowing what must follow a question such as this. A couple of traders however, disgusted by such a notion, spat on the ground and stormed out, through the heavy wooden doors of the study.

One of the gentry, an exportation official wearing a faded grox leather overcoat, took a step forward and looked the Governor straight in the eye.

“Governor, I think I speak for everyone in this room when I say, we serve the Emperor, and you.”

Those who has previously voiced support to the imperium looked ashamedly at the floor, before silently filtering out of the pressed gentlemen and closing the door noiselessly behind them as they retreated from the study.

Governor Marciniak smiled. He walked over to the large bookshelf in the corner of the study, his supporting gentry following at a distance of a few paces. He looked up to the top shelf, where there was only one book, a large tome with cracked leather covering, and old string bindings. Beside it was a pen, denoting that this was his workbook, in which, like many other gentlemen did in their own, he wrote his many plans for the running of his subordinates and citizens, and ideas for his projects. He reached up to the top shelf and pulled the tome away. It was big and heavy, and it took all of his skill and stamina not to fall over while grabbing it in front of his guests.

Taking the book to his desk, he set it down and pulled upon a bookmark, lifting several hundred pages with it, until he reached the page he wanted, a title page with few words, about a fifth of the way into the tome.

“Gents,” Governor Marciniak smiled, “here is where our loyalties lie.”

The gentry looked over his shoulders, and onto the title page. In bold, antiquated script it read:

All hail the Emperor! Down with the Imperium’s false teachings! Independence for Gdankas and freedom from Tyranny!

And thats all I've got so far...

So, Ehrenstein, is this good? Shall we build on this idea, change it, scrap it? I need your feedback first and foremost! of course, anybody else can say what they please about it.