Herald of the Stars - A Warhammer 40k, Rogue Trader Fanfiction

I twirl the device. Eire, Brigid, and Quanni stare at it.

Quaani scoffs. “Really, all that fuss over an Emperor damned crow bar?”

Handing the crowbar to Quaani, I try and fail to keep a straight face, “It’s a hacking tool.”

“I can see that,” says Quaani, weighing the metal in his hand, “Feels like adamantite. You could hack a lot of things with this.”

“Yep! It opens all sorts of things, crates, doors, electronic locks, man holes.”

Quaani frowns, his eyes widen, and then he scowls at me, “Oh come on! Really? It’s an electronics hacking tool?”

“Physical locks only, not data looms. It’s the ultimate hacking tool! I’m not sure how well it works with xeno locks either.”

“A Dad designed this,” says Quaani, “I just know it.”

I laugh, “Yeah, probably a few thousand of them over several decades. No one else would bother making such a sophisticated tool and keep the joke going.”

“Oh, I get it,” says Eire.

Brigid nods, “Probably the kinds of men that carry a tool box that can put the deepest handbags to shame, but are forever forgetting their keys.”

“That’s why it’s important to carry a magnetic screwdriver at all times,” I say, stroking my chin and looking into the distance. “They find keys for you and, if that still doesn’t work, you can take apart the lock.”

“You are ridiculous, Lord Captain,” says Eire. “You’re already the ultimate tool, at this point you're just showing off.”

“Now that’s just mean,” I cross my arms and pout.

Quaani reaches over the two women and pats my head, “There, there, Aldrich.”

I laugh and brush his spindly arm aside. “Alright, that's enough silliness for now.”

A servitor presents a tray with refreshments. I grab a recaf and a small wrap. Brigid and Eire take a drink each and a pair of wraps. Quaani grabs the whole plate, taking the rest of the twenty centimetre stack of food.

“Are you still having trouble getting enough calories, Quaani.”

“My mutations are less benign than they used to be,” Quaani sighs. “The auto sanguine keeps me whole and healthy but the amount of food I need keeps growing as the implant’s activity increases. I would have thought such things only happened with great exposure yet we have not made a warp jump in over a decade and my body continues to change. I worry, but there is little to do about it.”

“I’ll find a way, Quaani. The knowledge is out there somewhere.”

“I know. I wish my house had kept it aboard the Distant Sun though.”

“It was probably in the implants that were destroyed within the other navigators of the vessel. Were I to offer enough resources, we should be able to get what we need from other vessels.”

“How long until we leave Marwolv?” Quaani consumes a wrap in two bites.

“Eight to twelve years, I should think. The Iron Crane will be complete and Marwolv will have had its industry and knowledge restored to self-sustaining levels. Enough to deal with the tau, so long as they do not slack.”

“We will not wipe them out before we go?”

“I will not spill blood unless I have to. The choices that result in the least death, suffering, destructive change, and pain are where I like to power my chips.” I frown, "If the galaxy will let me, that is."

“I understand.” Quaani raises an eyebrow. “There’s always the chance the tau could integrate with the Imperium too.”

“That would take a miracle,” I chuckle, “and the Emperor is parsimonious with his. I dare say we could tip the scales if we eliminate the ethereals though.”

“A new goal then, before we depart.”

I nod, slowly, "Yeah, that would be for the best. No need for hope to transition into stupidity."

“There was a lot I did not understand in that exchange, Lord Captain,” says Eire. “Is it something Purser Brataich and I need to know?”

“There are plenty of things I’d rather be in ignorance of and the reasons underpinning my engagement protocols are one of them. First Officer Eire Lobhdain, with your rank it is permitted, if discouraged, and necessary for you to know more of the warp and its entities. I will explain it to you, without giving names, another day.

“Purser Brigid Mac'Ille na Brataich, you do not need to know and do not have the rank to request the knowledge, so I will not tell you. Knowledge on ethereals is less critical, unconfirmed, and, to my knowledge, unrestricted. I will explain ethereals to both you, and First Officer Lobhdain, should you wish, so long as you keep the knowledge to personnel between ranks one, that’s me, and four, the lowest primary commanding officers, that’s you, Purser Brataich.”

“What rank does the First Officer come under?” says Quaani.

“I am second rank, navigator Quaani,” says Eire. “You would be third rank, navigator, as the ship’s navigator primaris and warp guide.”

“Ah, now I remember,” says Quaani. “My tutor did explain it before I went into stasis, and after I came out, it’s always been Aldrich and I, so it wasn’t important and I forgot about it.”

A recording of a pair of meditation cymbals clashing resonates through the air with a calm tone.

“Let’s get back to our seats,” I say.

“Yes, Lord Captain,” says Eire.

We return to the table and get comfortable. A minute later, Aileen restarts the meeting and Thorfinn stands up.

“I’ve been working with logis Feidelm Gunn and, based on the extent of the tau’s facilities and how long they’ve been here, we think it will take them two years to clear their damaged domes and six to restore their industrial and research capacity.

“Throughout this period they will continue to have limited strike capabilities, with a return to full military might within the decade. Their main restrictions are their training time and minimal population.

“The advanced technology they wield, when destroyed so extensively, makes restoration more challenging; we speculate their earth caste are hard to replace and drones, like servitors, are limited in their labour saving capacity. There is only so much time one can cut.”

I nod. That reminds me of my own troubles with Marwolv, building out and staffing new orbital infrastructure and my initial efforts getting the Distant Sun functional.

Thorfinn continues, “From our raid, we know they could boost their population with rapid clones, or exo-wombs. Having witnessed the destruction caused by warp entities, they may also try to discover a way to deliberately trigger such phenomena, sowing chaos on Marwolv and disrupting our plans without significantly impacting their own resources.

“As such, I propose we coordinate with the Marwolv Clubhouse to monitor for warp breaches and other immaterial turbulence as well as step up our monitoring efforts within the oceans.

“If possible, I would like to besiege the tau’s city, limiting their resource recovery and increasing the resources they must spend to strike us.”

“Thank you for your analysis and proposal, Master-at-Arms Thorfinn,” says Aileen. “I believe, however, that while favoured, such a proposal is beyond the scope of an after action review.

“From your work, we can summarise that we have, at minimum, two years to restore and improve our forces with the changes we have discussed today and should seek to strike again within the next five. Is this correct?”

Thorfinn grimaces, then sighs, “You make a reasonable point, Headmaster, and yes, that is, as far as we know, our timetable.”

“Wonderful,” says Aileen. “Is there anyone else who would like to speak before we bring this meeting to a close?”

Brigid and I raise our hands.

“Magos?” says Aileen.

“Two items. As equipment improvements are limited I am going to look into extending the implants available to all personnel. The mechanicus do have the capability to create cyborg troops called skitarii. I am not fond of how dehumanising the process is and will take a different approach; cutting out one’s humanity to defend it better is a self-destructive philosophy.

“Second, I am going to re-examine the Marwolv pattern lasgun. It performed well, I would, however, like to make its range extension a removable module and add better power controls. There is no need to always run at max power, and burn out components faster, when a standard lasgun shot is sufficient. Adding variable fire options, such as a burst shot, might help balance penetration and component longevity.

“It is consistent fire in a single spot that breaches armour and full-auto is wasteful. Making grouping shots as easy as possible should help with penetration, and variable power and range should let users economise their weapons between covering fire, assaults, and killshots.”

“No telling how that will turn out until it’s tested,” says Thorfinn. “It does sound like a welcome addition to our kit though.”

Maeve shakes her head, “Many options is a good thing, having more to think about isn’t. Keep it simple please, Magos. Better yet, have a machine-spirit choose based on range, speed and target recognition with a redundant manual option.”

“I’ll consider all options and philosophies, Maeve. Thank you for bringing your concerns to my attention before I start drafting.”

“Always a pleasure, Magos,” says Maeve.

Aileen flicks his gaze at us, then gestures to Brigid, “Purser Brataich, please convey your concerns.”

“Thank you, Headmaster. The logis auditors and their servitors have completed their assessment of the Distant Sun and Omnissiah’s Erudition. With the exception of a few items, most of it is beyond the scope of today’s meeting. These items include three wrecked mobile knight armours.

“Would the restoration of these units fill the niche Commander Muire was searching for?”

“What are knights?” says Maeve.

I can’t believe I forgot about those! I suppose an eidetic memory is useless if you don’t bother looking at the data stored within. To think, when I first laid my eyes on those knights, I criticised the previous crew for leaving them to rot in the hold.

A command to my nanites stops me from blushing and I keep a thought stream with a blank expression while another three stop what they are doing to swear like a sparky.

Róisín waves her hand and two mechadendrites.

Aileen chuckles, “Go ahead, Adept Paorach.”

“Knights are humanoid tanks with a single pilot, similar in function and role to the larger tau battlesuits. They vary in size from nine to twelve metres. The pilots are raised from birth and directly communicate with the machine-spirit of their knight via the throne mechanicum, a device similar to the command throne and navigator throne used on void ships, or the suspension tanks on a titan.

“All of these thrones are based on the Golden Throne of Holy Terra, though given some knight houses predate the Golden Throne, this comparison is suspect.

“Fielding knights is usually the domain of knight houses, families who raise pilots for generations and often have governance over worlds called knight worlds, running a social structure based on nobility. Piloting a knight requires specific genetic markers, a bright mind, and a strong will, lest their thoughts be consumed by the machine-spirit they seek to master.

“There is a vast amount of political nuance between knight factions and they have their own political structure within the Imperium. Most give their loyalty to either the Imperium or the Mechanicus, though there are some independent knights called freeblades. These are usually the last surviving member of their house.

“To field and raise knights we will have to acquire a Sanctuary containing a Communion Dome where knights undergo the Ritual of Becoming, where they imprint on the throne mechanicum of their knight suit, and the Ritual of Joining, where the throne mechanicum merges with the knight and is loaded onto the knight suit.

“A knight can run up to one hundred and ten kilometres per hour across uneven terrain, shrug off anti-vehicle weapons with its ion shield, and, with the right tactics and terrain, eliminate tanks and infantry with impunity.

“Like all excessively capable military hardware, knights are exceptionally difficult to build, maintain, and pilot. Establishing such a unit would likely take twenty years or more and we will need to acquire several vital STCs to do so, then build the supporting infrastructure.”

“Thank you, Adept Paorach,” says Aileen. “I think that is enough for us to understand the situation.

“Ah! Yes, of course. I am happy to answer further questions on the subject at any time.”

Maeve taps her finger on the table, “I have one. Why are there knights on the Distant Sun if the supporting structures and data are absent?”

Brigid checks her data slate and sighs, “We have no idea, Commander Muire. All records of the knights are absent. We suspect skulduggery, perhaps they are stolen or smuggled, but as all the culprits are dead, this issue is, for now, unimportant.”

“Even Aruna doesn’t know?” says Thorfinn.

“It does not,” says Brigid, “Or at least, didn’t bother to answer my query.”

“Well, at least you tried?” says Thofinn.

Brigid snorts, “It appears the knights are not as suitable as I hoped. I have no further pressing issues.”

“Then let us bring this meeting to a close. This is Headmaster Aileen Nan Sop of the Marwolv psy-errants. The after action review of Operation Sea Mither is complete. Please terminate the recording, Junior enginseer Paorach.”

“Recording has now ceased, Headmaster.”

“Thank you, Adept Paorach. To everyone else, well,” he smiles, “I’d tell you to get back to work, but you wouldn’t be at this table if you needed prompting. Thank you for a smooth meeting. I didn’t have to comb a single feather.”

I stand and approach Aileen as he pushes his chair back and rises to his feet.

“Thanks, Aileen. You kept this as painless as possible.”

I shake Aileen’s hand.

“No problem at all, Aldrich. If you need someone to talk to, I am willing to listen.”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Watching Thorfinn get drunk is a good laugh, but it’s not the right place to air some grievances.”

Aileen nods slowly, “Bad Penny?”

I keep my face straight. “Yes, those immaterial entities do tend to linger.”

Plumbers make the best shit jokes.