“Revenge is a dish best served cold.”
– Ancient Terran Proverb
6 610 005.M42
My brother once told me that I didn’t have the stomach to rule. He scoffed at my men’s loyalty with disdain. He called me soft, and an idealistic fool.
He died silently in the void, thrown out of an airlock by his own men. No one had to pay them. No one had to threaten them. They simply hated him.
Now some of them work for me.
Loyalty must be maintained. It is not a trophy that can be won and then forgotten. Your followers must believe that your goals are also their own. That you can be harsh but fair. That you are greater than them, but will not forget them. That you will take them to hell and back. That you will bring them to glory.
And that you will bring them revenge.
Revenge is best when it also serves a purpose. Avenging the Cadian betrayal buoyed moral, and cemented our hold on the commerce district of the station. The voidsmen cheered when we brought them the mangled weaponry of the sentinel that torched their shipmates, and the House Guard were more than satisfied to prove their worth in combat.
The Cadian commander (I have since learned his name is Fread) played right into our hand. He believed me weak; another self-indulgent Rogue Trader, hiding behind his warrant of trade while growing fat off the backs of others. He did not expect a force of highly disciplined professionals.
I admit that it was a joy to see the look of rage and disbelief on his face when I disarmed him. Better still was the feeling when he realized the he was alone, his men cut down around him.
I ordered the House Guard to put the boots to him. They beat him mercilessly until he could barely stand. Then, as his men looked on in horror, they threw him from the gantries, down into the lower decks.
I care not if he survived. This wasn’t about him. It was the principle of the thing.