The resplendent Ghim City, a testament to the engineering prowess and ambition of Vasily Ghim, stood proudly beneath the vibrant sky of New Earth. Swirling hues of pink and orange danced across the vast horizon as the sun dipped below the city's skyline, casting long shadows through the streets and illuminating the grand structures that rose like a phoenix from the ashes of a forgotten past.

Moscow, once a thriving metropolis on Old Earth, was now but a distant memory, lost to the ravages of time and the decimation that had befallen the cradle of humanity. In its place, New Earth had risen, a world reborn from the red dust of Mars, its once barren landscape now transformed by the miraculous touch of terraforming. The planet boasted a fully functional atmosphere and a diverse range of biomes reminiscent of its terrestrial predecessor, each meticulously crafted to echo the familiar beauty of a world long since vanished.

Within the opulent halls of the Ghim Moiety's domed capital, a lavish gathering was in full swing, attended by the elite members of the various Martian Moieties, each seeking to curry favor with the powerful Trama. Vaulted ceilings loomed high overhead, adorned with intricate frescoes that depicted scenes of Vasily's victories and conquests. The floors, polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflected the warm glow of the flickering chandeliers suspended above, casting a golden radiance over the assembly.

The air within the grand ballroom was heavy with the scent of exotic flowers, their vibrant petals artfully arranged in ostentatious displays that spoke to the wealth and opulence of the Ghim Moiety. Hushed conversations filled the air, a murmuration of voices that blended seamlessly with the lilting strains of music provided by an unseen orchestra, their melodies weaving a tapestry of sound that enveloped the revelers in a symphony of decadence.

At the heart of it all stood Vasily Ghim, Trama of the Ghim Moiety, a massive, imposing figure whose very presence seemed to command the attention of all in attendance. With over two centuries of life behind him, Vasily's ageless visage belied the wisdom and cunning he had accumulated through countless years of political intrigue and Machiavellian maneuvering. His piercing eyes, cold and calculating, surveyed the room with an air of detached amusement, taking in the sycophants and social climbers who sought to bask in his favor.

Advanced medical procedures and rigorous regimens had preserved Vasily's vitality, rendering him a formidable force in both body and mind. His physical stature, broad-shouldered and towering, was enhanced by the impeccably tailored garments he wore, their rich fabrics accentuating his imposing form. A carefully cultivated air of menace seemed to radiate from him, a palpable aura that sent a shiver down the spines of those who dared to meet his gaze.

As the evening progressed, Vasily Ghim remained the epicenter of the festivities, a living symbol of the power and prestige that had been built upon the bones of Old Earth and now flourished on this new world. Yet beneath the veneer of opulence and grandeur, the seeds of discontent and rebellion were taking root, threatening to challenge the foundations of the world Vasily had so painstakingly crafted. They claimed to be trying to excise the rot of slavery, but Vasily knew better.

At over 200 years old, Vasily was still a force to be reckoned with. His sheer size and presence dominated any space he occupied, and he cast an intimidating shadow over the throng of guests who had come to pay him homage. Despite his advanced age, Vasily's mind was as sharp and calculating as ever, his ambition undiminished by the passage of time.

Rumors of Atlas Ghim's death had reached Vasily's ears just a year prior. Atlas, his great-great-grand-nephew, was believed to have been involved with the insurrectionists. Vasily had lost no sleep over the assassination, regarding it as a necessary purge of potential threats to his rule.

As the Trama surveyed the grand hall, his eyes settled on Ellis Masimb-Tab, a young, pregnant indentured servant who stood out among the others. She moved with purpose, her eyes scanning the crowd as if searching for something. Vasily's curiosity was piqued, and he decided to keep a watchful eye on her throughout the evening.

Indentured servants and slaves were a common sight among the Moieties, except in the Democratic Socialist Republic of New Australia. In Vasily's domain, they were a symbol of power and control, a reminder of the immense wealth and influence that the Ghim Moiety wielded.

Vasily circulated among the partygoers, a master of the art of conversation, deftly engaging the Moiety leaders in discussions that ranged from the banal to the subtly probing. His manner was light and nonchalant, his laughter a touch too loud, his smile never quite reaching the cold depths of his eyes. All the while, he kept his focus on Ellis, observing her as she went about her duties, biding his time until he could learn more about her.

As the evening wore on, Vasily deftly steered the conversation towards matters of a more serious nature. With practiced ease, he drew aside the leaders of the NeYork and Five Moieties, guiding them to a secluded corner of the grand hall where the music and chatter of the crowd provided a convenient cover for their hushed exchange.

"My friends," Vasily began, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I trust you understand the need for discretion in what I am about to propose." He paused, watching as the two leaders exchanged nervous glances. "I believe it is time for us to expand our use of indentured servants and slaves."

The Moiety leaders shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting around the room, but Vasily pressed on, his words growing ever more brutal in their frankness. "We have the potential to expand our terraforming efforts beyond this world, to reclaim Old Earth and to seize the untapped resources of the solar system. To do so, we will need a workforce unlike any we have ever seen."

Vasily leaned in closer, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I propose we double, no, triple the number of slaves we use. Rape the women until we have the workforce we need, flip the Tabs to Bims. Enslave lawbreakes. Whatever is necessary. We will break their spirits and bend them to our will. We will use them to reshape the heavens themselves."

He allowed his words to sink in for a moment, the silence oppressive as the two leaders struggled to process the enormity of his proposition. Then, without warning, Vasily's expression darkened, his voice taking on a chilling, lethal edge.

"And should any among us prove disloyal," he continued, his eyes boring into those of the NeYork and Five leaders, "let me be clear about the consequences they will face." He leaned even closer, his breath hot against their ears as he whispered the gruesome details.

"I will have their families brought before them, one by one. They will watch as I flay the skin from their loved ones' bodies, as I drain their lifeblood and leave them broken and lifeless upon the floor." Vasily's voice was cold and emotionless, each word a dagger driven into the hearts of his listeners.

"And when their families are no more, I will turn my attention to the traitors themselves," he continued, his voice growing more venomous with each word. "I will strip them of their dignity, their pride, their very humanity. I will bind them in chains and force them to crawl through the filth and muck, to grovel at my feet like the spineless vermin they are."

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Vasily paused, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction as the two leaders paled before him. "And finally, when I have wrung every last ounce of suffering from their wretched bodies, I will grant them the sweet release of death. But not before I have ensured that their names and deeds are forever erased from the annals of history, leaving behind only a legacy of shame and disgrace."

The air in the alcove seemed to grow colder, the shadows deeper, as the two Moiety leaders stared at Vasily in abject terror, unable to speak or even move. They knew all too well that the Trama was not a man to be trifled with, and his gruesome threats were not mere bluster.

Vasily Ghim, Trama of the Ghim Moiety, allowed himself a thin, cruel smile as he surveyed the cowering forms of the NeYork and Five leaders. "Do I make myself clear?" he asked, his voice almost gentle in its malice.

The two leaders nodded mutely, their faces ashen and their eyes hollow, as Vasily stood and turned away, satisfied that his point had been made. He knew that loyalty built on fear was a fragile thing, but it was a weapon he wielded with ruthless efficiency. And in the brutal world of New Earth, that was often enough.

Unbeknownst to Vasily, Ellis had been making her way through the hall, her ears straining to pick up any snippet of conversation that might prove useful to Pulpit and the Resistance. As she approached the shadowed alcove where Vasily and the Moiety leaders spoke, she felt her heart quicken, sensing the importance of their discussion. She lingered near a pillar, pretending to arrange the wine glasses on her tray as she strained to hear Vasily's chilling words.

The Trama, however, had not forgotten the young servant. As he spoke, he suddenly turned his gaze towards Ellis, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Caught off-guard, Ellis fumbled with a glass, dropping it to the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hall, drawing the attention of the party goers and momentarily breaking the tension of the conspiratorial huddle.

Ellis recoovered swiftly and approached Vasily, the tray of drinks now balanced deftly in her hands. "More refreshments, Trama Ghim?" she asked, her voice steady despite her nerves.

Vasily's cold, calculating eyes locked onto hers, probing for any sign of defiance. "Thank you, my dear," he replied smoothly, selecting a morsel from the tray. "You have quite the spirit, don't you? I can see it in your eyes."

Ellis bowed her head in a show of submission, hoping her display would be enough to deter further scrutiny. "Thank you, Trama Ghim. I am here to serve."

Vasily's attention drifted away from Ellis, his interest in the girl temporarily satisfied. He continued to mingle with his guests, all the while maintaining a watchful eye on the servant girl who had captured his interest.

As the gathering continued, Vasily was keenly aware of the shifting alliances and rivalries among the Moieties. He had built his empire on a foundation of manipulation and betrayal, and he knew that the tides of power were constantly in flux. It was only through his cunning and determination that he had managed to maintain his position as Trama for so long.

But Vasily Ghim was no fool. He knew that the insurrectionists who sought to challenge his rule would not be easily dissuaded. His great-great-grand-nephew's death was a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike at the heart of his empire. It was a threat that he could not ignore, and he knew that he must be prepared to meet it with the full force of his considerable power.

In the midst of the lavish celebration, Vasily spotted his top Inquisitor, Sheila Dragoon, entering the grand hall. Sheila was a vision of authority and prestige, her tall, slender frame adorned with an impeccably tailored uniform. The state-of-the-art nanobot weave created an illusion of a high-collared jacket in deep red, trimmed with gold embroidery that cascaded down her arms and across her chest. A black, form-fitting bodysuit, likewise woven by nanobots, hugged her body beneath the jacket, and an elegant gold holographic sash cinched her waist. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, revealing sharp, angular features that exuded confidence and purpose. While appearing to be fully clothed, thanks to the holograms, the inquisitor was, in fact, wearing nothing.

Vasily raised an eyebrow, and gestured for Sheila to approach. She crossed the room with a fluid, predatory grace. As she reached his side, he leaned in and murmured, "INteresting choices, Shiela, He said with a sly grin as he recognized her garb.

The inquisitor shrugged. "If you can't intimidate a person while you are naked, you're doing something wrong."

Vasily laughed, though he knew she was not joking. She did not have a sense of humor. "Tell me, Inquisitor Dragoon, what is the latest word on the insurrectionists?"

Sheila's lips curled into a disdainful smirk. "They remain scattered and disorganized, Trama Ghim. They may have ambition, but they sorely lack discipline and unity."

"Indeed?" Vasily replied, his eyes narrowing. "And yet, they managed to strike close to home with the assassination of Atlas. I trust you are taking every precaution to ensure that such a tragedy does not befall us again."

"Of course, Trama," Sheila responded, her tone cool and measured. "We have eyes and ears in every corner of New Earth, and our network of informants continues to expand. Any whisper of dissent is swiftly crushed beneath our heel."

Vasily chuckled darkly. "Your confidence is reassuring, Inquisitor. But let us not forget that complacency breeds vulnerability. The insurrectionists may be inept now, but desperation can forge strange alliances and unexpected cunning. We must be ever vigilant."

Sheila inclined her head, her expression unflinching. "As you say, Trama Ghim. Rest assured, the Inquisition will not rest until the last of these upstarts has been rooted out and eliminated."

Vasily nodded, satisfied with her response. "Very well. Keep me apprised of any developments, no matter how insignificant they may seem."

As Sheila turned to leave, Vasily allowed himself a moment of quiet contemplation. He knew that the insurrectionists were a persistent thorn in his side, but he was confident in his ability to outmaneuver them. After all, he had been playing this game for over two centuries, and he had no intention of losing now.

As the night wore on, Vasily continued to observe Ellis from a distance, intrigued by the undercurrent of determination he sensed within her. He wondered if she was simply another servant, or if she posed a more significant threat to his rule. He resolved to keep her close, so that he might better understand her true nature and intentions.

The evening's festivities eventually drew to a close, and the guests began to depart, leaving Vasily alone with his thoughts. He stood in the now-empty hall, the echoes of laughter and conversation fading away like the embers of a dying fire.

In the quiet of the night, Vasily contemplated his place in the ever-changing landscape of New Earth's politics. The insurrectionists were a growing concern, but he had no intention of allowing them to dismantle the empire he had so carefully built.

As Trama, he wielded an iron fist over his subjects, and his reputation for brutality and mercilessness was well known. Vasily was prepared to do whatever it took to protect his power and maintain control. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that the girl, Ellis, represented a different kind of challenge.

As he retired to his quarters, Vasily's mind was filled with thoughts of the future. He knew that his rule would continue to be tested by the insurrectionists and their allies. But he was confident in his ability to navigate the treacherous waters of New Earth's politics and emerge victorious.

For now, he would focus on understanding the enigmatic servant girl who had captured his attention. If she proved to be a threat, he would deal with her swiftly and decisively. But if she could be turned into an asset, she might just be the key to crushing the insurrection and securing the Ghim Moiety's place as the dominant force on New Earth.

As Vasily drifted off to sleep, the thought of Ellis lingered in his mind, a symbol of the challenges and opportunities that lay ahead in the ever-evolving game of power and control. She reminded him of someone, someone he hadn't thought of in a long, long while. He drifted off, thoughts of Ai Cui lulling him to sleep.