The Conqueror's Star was a marvel of efficiency. Its immaculate corridors echoed with the cadenced steps of patrols and the constant hum of life support systems. Yet, that evening, as Julius walked to stretch his legs, he perceived a new frequency in the air.
It wasn't in the technical areas or combat stations, but near the living quarters, the secondary mess halls. He saw an engineer and a Valkyrie pilot whispering near a drinks dispenser, their heads close, a furtive smile on their lips. Further on, two Marines, who usually only exchanged short orders, were speaking in low voices as they passed, their gazes holding for a second too long. There were stifled laughs, conversations that stopped short at his approach, replaced by overly stiff salutes.
A different energy floated. Not mutiny, not fear. Something more... organic. More human.
Intrigued and a bit disconcerted, he went directly to the bridge. Data was at his post, absorbed by the data flow of the ship's network.
"Data," Julius asked, collapsing heavily into his command chair, "what's going on with some of the crew members? I've seen... strange things. Whispers, looks. The atmosphere is odd."
Data looked up, his golden pupils focusing on Julius.
"Analysis of social communication networks and surveillance cameras confirms a 47.3% increase in interpersonal interactions unrelated to duty over the last 47.2 hours. The content is predominantly social in nature and, in 68.7% of cases, romantic or sexually suggestive."
He tilted his head, a purely analytical gesture.
"In simple terms, Commander, boredom breeds ideas."
"Boredom?" repeated Julius, stunned.
"Affirmative. The current expansion phase is highly routine. The periods between major discoveries or combats are long. The initial stress of survival has faded. The human mind, once basic needs are assured, naturally seeks other forms of stimulation and connection. Pair bonding is a logical and predictable consequence for a healthy, confined human population."
Julius was speechless. He had planned battles, expansion strategies, psionic defenses... but not this. Not the love lives of his crew.
"Hoho..." he breathed, more to himself.
Then, the reality hit him full force. He slumped back in his chair, a sudden wave of melancholy washing over him. All these people around him, his soldiers, his engineers, his civilians... they were building lives, even here, among the stars. They were finding comfort, warmth.
And him?
He was the Commander. The Host of the System. The Psyker. The founder of an empire. Isolated at the top, in his elevated chair, with only an android, an old captain, a cynical rebel, an assassin, and a sorcerer for constant company. Even in a crowd, he was alone.
"I see," he said finally, his voice a bit faint. "Very well. As long as it does not affect discipline or combat efficiency, it is not a problem."
"Performance parameters are stable," Data confirmed. "In fact, a certain social cohesion can improve morale and, ultimately, efficiency."
Julius nodded, unable to formulate anything else. He watched the stars drift by on the main screen, a point of solitude lost in the black immensity. He had conquered systems, but he didn't even have someone to silently share the view with. The most powerful conqueror in this part of the galaxy was, in the end, a sad bachelor slumped in his throne.