Pantokrator and Ierisiou are sister-planets orbiting an M-class star. Their orbits are in quite close proximity; the two planets approach as near as 30 million kilometres to each other, with a maximum separation of only 300 million km.
A little over 100 years ago (in 2520, during the reign of Empress Ximena and very shortly after the Ackalian Border War of 2518), tensions between the two erupted into all-out war, in which both were very severely mauled. Pantokrator has since recovered to some degree, though large areas of the planetary surface are uninhabitable radioactive waste. Ierisiou was not so fortunate, and though there are still life forms existing on the surface, the extremely high background radiation level has resulted in an exceptionally high rate of mutation, not many of which survive. Few of the present inhabitants could now be properly described as human, and there is no technological civilization left there to speak of. Visitors are rare, though there is a little traffic: mostly scavengers rooting through the remains for anything of any value. Most of the old cities, where the best salvage can be found, are still extremely hot and require careful anti-radiation precautions.
Pantokrator has two moons and an outer ring of fragments, all that remains of the third moon, completely destroyed during the course of the war mentioned above. The outer moon is Kalkis, the inner Istiaia. Both are heavily industrialized, and both support potent system defence installations. The military installations are oprated by the Pantokrator Planetary Defence Militia, but Imperial observers — marines, normally — are also stationed there on a rotation. It is not a sought-after posting.
There is no civilian planetary spaceport facility on Pantokrator, though there is an Imperial Navy base, and all civilian space traffic is required to berth at one of the LaGrange stations. Any cargo or passengers are transhipped from there to the planetary surface or the moons by official transports. Although operated primarily by Pantokrator officials, there is also a substantial Imperial presence to ensure that Imperial regulations are maintained.
Only pilots licenced by the Pantokrator (or on-duty Imperial pilots) are permitted to fly in near-orbit or within the planetary atmosphere, or to either of the moons. Penalties for contravening this regulation are severe, up to and including imprisonment and confiscation of ship and cargo.
Ships entering Pantokrator space will first be stopped by an Imperial Navy ship and will be scanned and searched. Assuming all is well, the ship will then be sent on to a LaGrange berth, where Pantokrator Customs will take over.
Going through Pantokrator customs at any of the LaGrange Entry Stations is a lengthy and unpleasantly intrusive procedure, involving extensive probing, scanning, searching and suspicion. The Customs officials will always assume the worst, and even if an applicant for entry doesn't trip any alarms and is granted an entry visa, they are treated as though by low criminal cunning they have managed to get away with something.
The Imperial customs officials are, by comparison, pleasantly professional and impersonal, though they are no less thorough.
Authoritarian and repressive, the ruling clique of Pantokrator are a relatively small, inbred and nepotistic group. They chafe somewhat under the restrictions placed on their rule by the Terran Empire, but realise that they cannot possibly hope to successfully defy Imperial authority with their own limited resources. They submit to the letter of Imperial law, but their human rights record skirts perilously close to the edge of acceptable practice. Individual members of government maintain their own bodyguards, amounting in many cases to private armies, and competition is constant for the aquisition of influence and prestige. It is not unknown for violence to flare between the guards of rival ministers, and assassination is not uncommon.
The titular head of government is The Pantokrator (Ruler of All), effectively the planetary emperor, the present holder of the office being Ios Eisenmann, ex-Minister for Public Safety. The position is one of great power and prestige, but it is no sinecure — the Pantokrator must be constantly on guard against the machinations of their subordinates, all of whom have their own agendas and all of whom would leap at the opportunity to occupy the throne.
NOTE: Among other things, any unlicensed gathering of more than six people is illegal and is assumed to be seditious until proven otherwise.
NOTE: The DSO will keep a watch on any foreigners on Pantokrator. As well as the usual means of surveillance, it is likely that a "guide" will be assigned to any groups of three or more, ostensibly to assist them during their stay but in reality to keep close tabs on where they go, who they see and what they do. Wealthy visitors will not be unduly harassed, but indigents will receive short shrift and are likely to find themselves under virtual close arrest until their departure.
The police ministry — the innocently-named Ministry of Public Safety — are an ever-present threat, and society is riddled with informers and spies for the secret police, the Department of Social Order (DSO). As a result, paranoia reigns, and it is not uncommon for personal vendettas to be settled by a denunciation of one party by the other, and the subsequent disappearance of the victim — who was probably planning exactly the same thing, but didn't manage to get in first. (Note: this can be a risky tactic, since it is likely to draw the attention of the MPS to both parties.)
The judicial system — run by the Department of Enforcement and Correction (DEC) — makes no assumption of innocence, nor is there any right to a trial by jury, or indeed any public trial at all. A defendant is presented to the court only when the MPS has completed its investigations, and though a defendant is entitled to answer the charges laid against them, the burden of proving their innocence rests solely on their own shoulders. A person without substantial financial resources who finds themselves in MPS custody will therefore usually scramble to make some sort of deal which will minimise their own punishment, since it is likely that they would have no real chance of disproving any of the charges.
Although it is not officially acknowledged, it is well known that the Department of Information Retrieval (DIR) makes extensive use of both physical and mental torture in its investigations, and summary executions of suspected dissidents are widely rumoured. It is also rumoured that the DIR maintains a secret cadre of telepaths, though the existence of this corps has not be proved.
Very occasionally the situation arises that the case against an individual is patently absurd; in such an event the officer(s) involved may be reproved by the court for an excess of zeal and the defendant set free with a stern warning to behave better in future. Such an individual would be well advised to run and disappear, since the officers of the MPS do not take kindly to being made appear foolish.
A huge bureaucracy revolves around the gathering and maintenance of reams of information about everyone. The responsibility for storing the dossiers and sharing the information between the various government agencies is that of the Department of Information Storage and Public Archives (DISPA).
Surveillance is omnipresent, even within private homes. Of course, there simply isn't the manpower available to keep every person under constant observation, but even those cameras and microphones which aren't being actively watched by human beings are monitored by computers keyed to raise an alert if certain words, phrases or images appear. In addition, any person is liable to be stopped and searched by police at any time, and the police have the right to enter and search any premises at will. Failure to provide any information required is grounds for immediate arrest and detention.