`Hmph`. Mathew looks this strange man over. While the bootlicking certainly wasn't making him seem like any form of threat, those that can seem harmless often form a far greater threat than those that are seen initially as a danger. Mathew would need to balance the odds in this situation, deciding just how likely it was for this person to turn out to be an assassin, and just how much he could lose if that was the case. It wasn't entirely guesstimation, however, as several scans were reading the man's Divine Trace, as well as his molecular makeup, weaponry, and a variety of other simple scans. Just standing there, Mathew extended his senses through the machines around him, observing the stranger from all angles, and through a hundred different lenses and sensors, painting a complete picture of the man.
"You came onto my ship in order to strike down an Angel who was performing a diplomatic treaty for me. By Imperium law, you are accountable for Assault, as well as interfering with imperial business. Both of these laws are recognized by most of this universe's advanced civilisations, and both are considered just." Mathew's eyebrow raises itself, almost mockingly, as he looks down at the man from his steel throne, surrounded by a sea of keyboards. "Consider this, for the purpose of this conversation, to be a court of law. How do you defend yourself from these accusations? If you cannot, then I must be forced to apply punishment as is appropriate for these crimes. Justice cannot be lax, after all, and your offenses are quite grievous."
A ship had landed on the docks of the trade world. It was within the Clone Emperor's domain, however it was a world that found itself on a Dimensional Nexus, which made warp travel to an from this location quite easy. This had encouraged the original inhabitants of the planet to discover Warp Travel inordinately early, and they became explorers and traders throughout the galaxy. When the Clone Emperor had arrived, he had done so during a spat between two of the Matriarchs that had previously dominated the planet, and had taken the planet under his wing. Of course, even with the relatively good influence of the Clone Emperor's guiding hand, the town had naturally become a hive for illegal trafficking of slaves, drugs and weaponry. Hundreds of different species sold anything that they wished in the sprawling markets, and one could quite accurately state that everything was for sale. Planets, babies, demons, slaves, drugs, ships, antiqueties, art..... everything could be found on Mezzuran, the commerce planet that had become a focal point for intergalactic trade.
The ship had been an odd craft by all standards. It had been large and square, which was quite practical due to the lack of air resistance in space, but was still quite an odd design choice. It was an ugly, scrappy piece of crap, but that wasn't so uncommon in such a place. However, anyone who had seen it arrive would have noticed it had an incredibly capable warp drive, no visible engines, and yet it moved completely silently. A stealth craft, a smugler perhaps. And yet, it had no cloaking field, and didn't even attempt to hide from the sensors set up by the authorities to discourage smugglers. Of course, all those who speculated about what the ship's purpose was, as well as how much it would be worth, would have been far more surprised to find what secrets were hidden within.
Through the busy streets walked a man. He was a tall man, white hair swept to the side messily and a pair of glasses upon his face. He wore a long white coat above grey shirt and jeans, covered in odd stitches. The man strode with confidence, and people and non-people stood aside as he passed. Great warriors and merchants both renowned and unknown stepped aside, hugging the sides of the street. Vendors fell silent, the ever-present shouting halting into unnatural silence as the man walked past. And even when it resumed, there was an edge to it, a twist, a malicious will. For the people had not stood aside for a massive figure, nor some biologically engineered machine of massive destruction and death, conjured up from some twisted science lab. They stood aside for the grin on the man's face. The look in his eyes, that brought tears to the eyes of even the bravest of warriors. For that day, Hell walked through the streets.
Men brawled in the streets, as prices were raised. Voices dropped from the usual shouts into screams of anger and pain, as a war mech flung a presumptuous smuggler through a wall. The clone police force was on the scene, and yet many of them simply watched, oddly mesmerized, as like a ripple death spread from the steps of the demon. Gunfire, lasers cutting through the badly constructed buildings as the reasonable ripped each other apart. Explosions ripped through the town, as, shouting and screaming, the entire city began a slaughter. With each step that hit the cobblestone path, a ripple of insanity shot out through the crowds, as children killed their parents. Crying and wailing those that recovered held the corpses of those that they themselves had slaughtered. Murder fell to the norm, as the clones themselves joined into the fray. In the name of justice, supposedly, the innocent aggressors were gunned down viciously. The town was a warzone with a billion factions, a Hell dominated by the darkness, the passion and hate, the blood and soul of humankind.
Grin affixed to his face, the man walked up the steps to the House of Government. Guards rushed towards him, only to devolve into a nameless, murderous squabble. The doors slammed ahead in front of the man, blown apart by an inexplicable wind. Practically surrounded by an aura of swirling wind, the man stared up at the governors that had been gathered that very day to discuss the future of the planet. " Gentleman, how nice to see you're all here. I'm looking for a fellow. I'm sure you know him. Quite big, scary face, loves being self-important and righteous." Smiling, Stein stood there, the manifestation of Death.
