Herald of the Stars: Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Four

kilba Sch, Lonerl, Tess Test, and Dan. Thank you so much for joining the Herald of the Stars Patreon. I really appreciate the help!

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I say, “There are no records of the woman and blessed child. It would appear that one moment they existed on the station, and the next they did not. They carried no trinkets or tattoos that might hint at their origins and their clothing was bland. The child may hold a role to preserve or enhance a location we shall never hear of.

“For a brief moment in time, it was you, Canoness Ephrine, who was a true agent of the Throne. The deaths that followed were not just a distraction that saved the lives of your sisters who aided in the securing of Footfall. It was a brief glimpse of the motive force that underpins reality and you were the one who tended to it. 

“I can think of no greater sign that adopting the ways of the Mechanicus for the Order of the Valorous Heart comes with His blessing.”

The listening sisters do not gasp dramatically. One sister, however, does stand and walk over, handing back the document Ephrine passed out for perusal. She places it on the fold-out table, then wraps her hands around Ephrine’s fist, stilling her constant twirling of my pen.

“Canoness, there are no tricks here. If you want our blessing and agreement for this joining of forces, you have it. The Magos is a faithful and dutiful soul. He has healed and sheltered us before even bringing up a further weaving of our bonds, our service rewarded without complaint or hesitation. He offers us honourable duty and the tools to complete it. To stall any longer would be an insult, one he does not deserve, nor should we entertain, if we hope to keep the integrity of His teachings. It would be unbecoming of a Saint Potentia such as yourself.”

With a soft sigh, Ephrine signs her name at the bottom of the scroll, then turns it around and holds the pen out to me. I take the pen from her hand and sign as well.

“There, it is done,” says Ephrine.

“Not quite,” I say. I pull out another copy, modify it with the agreed clauses, then sign it. “This one is for your own records.”

I place the pen on the table. Ephrine nods, signs the second document, rolls it up, then hands it to the sister who spoke earlier.

Ephrine says, “Secure this.”

“Yes, Canoness.” The woman takes the scroll and walks off with it.

I say, “My goals for this visit are complete. Is there anything further you wish to discuss?”

“No, Magos. May Saint Asceline bless your Quest for Knowledge.”

“I will pray for her guidance and hope for her non-intervention.”

Ephrine laughs, “Indeed! We could do with a little calm around here. The situation would be truly dire if the Emperor felt the need to send a second saint to our sides!”

I stand, “Good day to you, Canoness. Blessings of the Emperor and Machine-God upon you and your Order.”

My bodyguard follows me out and I am swiftly surrounded by the rest of his squad. I vox him, “Did you find anything untoward?”

“No Magos. The Church of Saint Sanguinius the Martyr and its inhabitants are free of corruption.”

That was the expected result. It doesn’t hurt to double check though.

“Good work.”

I leave the church, passing the barricades and resuming my inspection of Footfall. Pleased with the success of my negotiations, I let Navigator Leonis Aleene and Enginseer Threnseus Oserael into my circle for some light conversation.

“Greetings, Leonis, Threnseus.”

“Novator, you bless us with your attention. How may I be of service?”

++Greetings: Conduit of the Omnissiah, this cog awaits instruction.++

These two have become massive brown nosers. I don’t blame them. They are neither important or interesting. A lubricating tongue in the face of a superior power is their sole path to success.

Fortunately for them, as much as I dislike it, that’s exactly why I called them over. While I may have avoided them earlier, my therapist is encouraging me to look for ‘small joys’ and to undertake tasks that ‘build confidence’.

I called these two over to enable their amusing attempts at pulling knowledge from a known chatty Magos for the exclusive pleasure of denying them what they want. They might even tell me something useful while I’m trolling ‘em.

“Threnseus, what is your opinion on Footfall?”

++Analysis: Socio-economic structures, compromised. Physical mechanisms, incomplete and ill maintained. Corruption levels, near fatal. Conclusion: the local mechanicus enclave at Altar-Templum-Calixis-Ext-17 requires censure and decommission. Faulty component, Tantus Moross, overdue for replacement. Query: Stellar Fleet assimilation?”

“Undecided,” I say, marvelling at Threnseus’ habit of talking in Lingua Technis, even when social convention would dictate he is being rude by doing so.

Conclusion: Enginseer Threnseus Oserael is racist towards mutants and Non- Mechanicus lifeforms. He is also condescending and will not hesitate to throw his peers under the Leman Russ.

“How about you, Leonis. What is your opinion on Footfall?”

“Walking these halls, unadorned and dilapidated as they are, is a novel experience for me. This is the first time I have left my void ship. Even leaving my spire happened but once or twice a year. The Imperial Navy would not dare risk me so, yet you do not seem to care. Whether your stance be a boon or an insult, I, too, am undecided.”

Well now I just feel bad. My endeavour to ‘look for small joys’ really isn’t going well!

“Feel the minds around you. Hostility always stands out.”

“I am a mutant. Every mind is hostile. Novator, yours is invisible to me and your bodyguards’ minds are muted. From what little I can tell, they are...indifferent? Well, that makes for a pleasant new experience. Enginseer Oserael has turned his emotions off and his mind is ebullient as corpse starch. His thoughts are hard to glean as most are chasing the Machine-Spirits welded to his skull.”

++Opinion: Elegant efficiency is the beauty of an enlightened mind.++

Leonis glances at Threnseus with poorly hidden irritation, then says, “Novator, did the esteemed Inquisitor bring any news of Commodore Emil’s status?”

“Investigations are ongoing and the Inquisition’s secrets are their own. Are you aware of Vice-Admiral Thalk von Styrvold’s intention to better the impression and assets of Battlefleet Koronus?”

++Statement: Irrelevant data. Proposed goal is a fundamental task of all senior officers.++

“One would hope so,” I say. “You can guess as well as I can the fate of a Commodore who’s actions have directly impacted a primary task of a senior officer.”

Lyre may think differently, but after a bit more time to ponder his opinion, I believe Emil is in for a rougher time than both Inquisitors expect.

There we go! That’s the warm glow of a ‘small joy’ I was looking for.

My entourage and I continue our conversation, walking between cubes of compressed scrap. Temporary patches of plasteel panels and insulating spray-on foam hold back the void. Despite their transient nature, the armoured patches look more sturdy than the fused clay and silicate rock that most of the station is built from.

We pass over a spectacular Imperial gothic bridge, festooned in grey gargoyles, glittering with polished veins of nickel and lit from beneath by bright white lights. The blood red glow of Furibundus washes across the open bridge as I hold back the void for my companions with a flex of my will. A couple of Taurus, or hull buggies, pulling trailers full of compressed scrap drive past us.

I keep a steady pace as we cross, even as Threnseus and Leonis barely restrain their awe and panic.

To my surprise, as we pass through the void shield holding in the air at the end of the bridge we are met by Odhran and his four honour guards: Killian, Darrah, Nuada, and Eoghan. Their helmets and bolters are maglocked to their thighs. 

My bodyguards let all five Astartes through the cordon.

“Well met, Magos,” says Odhran.

“Good day, Force Commander. Official or casual?”

“Casual. I have a private request.”

I don’t even have to ask. Leonis and Threnseus hurry off into the luxurious maze of the Liege’s Court. I order a fireteam to go keep an eye on them, just in case. Neither Odhran’s honour guard or my own protective detail wander off as Odhran falls in step beside me as I continue my sedate walk.

“Go ahead, Odhran.”

“Aldrich, you invited me to the meeting regarding the future of Footfall. The Barghests have no interest or capacity to mire themselves in such muck. I will not be attending. I have sought you out to tell you this in person and answer any queries you may have.”

I laugh, “That is the politest ‘fuck off mate’ I have ever received.”

A ghost of a smile crosses Odhran’s face and the wrinkles around his eyes deepen a little.

“Sure, that’s fine. You don’t have to personally attend if you are busy or uninterested. I do still require the legitimacy your Chapter offers to fulfil our contract. Perhaps Chaplain Riordan could be spared? He is a calm and wise presence to have at the table, even if he chooses to say nothing.”

“I will ask him. I will not order him to do something I am unwilling to do.”

“I’d love to say fair enough, as I lead in much the same manner. That isn’t good enough though. You will send a representative of your choice, Force Commander. I am sponsoring ten thousand recruits, an entire strike force, and paying the Barghest Chapter an SRC every two years for your service. I did not free your brothers from their iron coffins or rebuild your champion to have you refuse to send a single battle brother to sit in a chair for a few hours when called. For the first time, even. I understand that your time is precious and that you have many duties, but so do I. It is through Footfall that much of the supplies your Chapter gathers flow. 

“However, if you came in person to tell me about how the Demi-Marine project is going, away from the meddling of Logis Vakul and Inquisitor Hamiz, or have some other purpose I am unaware of that requires you to intercept me on my shopping trip  to Obsidian Emporial, I would be quite happy to put this short sighted stupidity behind us.”

“Apologies, Magos. I did not see the issue with the broad clarity that you do.”

“Evidently. Look, Odhran. I like to think we are friends. We have fought beside each other, confided our concerns, and saved each other's lives on multiple occasions. I even resurrected you and your squad at great personal cost. I literally gave up a chunk of my soul to the Emperor to do so. 

“Our friendship is complicated by the official agreements between our factions. I backed you to be Force Commander, and your Chapter against the suspicions of the Inquisition, because I trust your competence and commitment to your word. You and your Chapter have not failed me in this and I do not believe they ever will. Even after you lost half your strike force, you and your brothers have continued to serve with skill and faith.

“However, you, Verlin, and Lir have this terrible habit of constantly testing my boundaries. I do not know if this is malicious, or a scar from your training. Perhaps you, like many others, think of me as some soft ploin fruit to squeeze at leisure. Maybe, unaccustomed as you are to a man who openly states his goals, you hope to aggravate me to get a glimpse at some super secret motive that, as a Magos Explorator, I just have to have, lest your whole world view shatters like poorly forged ceramite.

“The truth matters little. Your constant straining at our bonds has become tiresome. 

“Our partnership was witnessed and endorsed by the Emperor himself via the Aquilian Shield. You, like me, have no choice but to embrace the humiliation of having someone from up high dictate distasteful marching orders or, like Horus, we could watch the galaxy burn and give it a kick along the way to help it implode within the super massive black hole we all revolve around.”

“Are you done?” says Odhran.

“Are you?”

“I am.”

Eoghan says, “Did you really give up a piece of your soul for me?”

“I did.”

“That was foolish,” says Odhran. “One should not so freely carve up their immortal essence.”

“Tis a mighty fine gift,” says Eoghan. “You won’t see me turning my nose up at it.”

I say, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. It is by these words that Humanity lives, or dies. Odhran, did you expect me to do any less? In how many ways and times must I demonstrate that the ties that bind us to our mortal coil matter more than any eternity by the Emperor’s side? For all my strength, I cannot face the horrors of the galaxy alone. Neither would I bother, were my lonely survival my only goal. 

“The Emperor is the same. He does not have to sit on that chair, His mind and soul scattered and wracked with pain, day after day without end in sight. He does so because He loves Humanity. He believes in its superiority and divine right to rule. 

“At any point, He could give up His physical conduit and leave us to the mess we have created, but He doesn’t. He fights against the Daemons beyond His light. He fights against darkness inside our souls. He fights against the Xenos that would enslave us. He fights, just to give us a chance at companionship and joy, even as it is denied to Him.

“This conversation has gotten completely out of hand and in a direction I did not expect, so I shall end my tirade here. If each of you remembers one thing from all of this, I want it to be this. The next time one of you feels like you’re all better than the Emperor and too busy to attend a meeting that will impact not only your Chapter’s chance at survival, but also the fate of some four hundred settled worlds, you can suck on your Power Armour’s catheter and cherish the salty taste of your own failures. Am I clear?”

“Clear as the purest stream, Magos,” says Eoghan. “I’ve never been too keen on cloudy with a fragrant hint of infection.”

I stare at Eoghan for a moment. “The Astartes are dismissed.”