NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Eight
“You mean my experimental materials, Chapter Master? So long as one is not dabbling in forbidden lore, I require no licence.”
“That isn’t how it was reported to me,” says Lir.
“I am performing a long term study on the effects of a Melodium to overwrite the rumoured pheromone and Warp based control that the Ethereals have over Tau citizens. My studies have shown that the rumours are true. Not only that, but should my experiment prove successful, it might be possible to erode social and cultural programming from a large number of xenos species. Potentially, this would lead to them turning on each other as all freed parties attempt to gain control.
“The Tau Empire could fall, or at least have its expansion curtailed, with a few hidden devices smuggled onto their border worlds. The Ethereals would likely have to be assassinated too.”
Lir leans forward, “Now that does sound more plausible. Have you seen any success?”
“Yes. I have rewritten the culture of the Tau, twisting their philosophy of the Greater Good of the Tau, to the Greater Good of the Imperium. They are now full adherents of the Machine Cult. Now I am testing to see if it sticks. If that works, I will move on to attempting to bless them with the Emperor’s light, much like I did for Head Librarian Mhanaigh. Where is he right now? I was surprised when he did not join us.”
“In prayer and contemplation.”
“Understandable.”
“You would expend His power on xenos, Magos?”
I shrug, “If He does not approve, no miracle will manifest. That is answer enough for me.”
Lir breathes deeply, his nostrils flaring widely. “You will let me see this project, its people, and its data.”
Never have I been so glad how fast and how many reports I can write simultaneously! I’m not quite lying. I have the data, and I have been brainwashing the Tau, but the language within the progress reports is friendly. I wouldn’t want such a simple thing to give away the ruse.
I had no intention of weaponizing my studies into the Tau. I just didn’t want to execute a bunch of sapients and feed the Warp just because they’re xenos and I don’t like them. One of the few values I still hold is not to execute unarmed prisoners. I’m going to look like a total asshole if these edited reports ever leak to the Tau. I’ll have to provide a single ‘read only’ copy of the data on a locked datapad.
I’m not sure why I didn’t expect Lir to ask this question, but I do wish I had prepared better. This is going to take me weeks of work, all locked up in my head.
“So long as no harm comes to my test subjects, I see no reason to refuse you.”
“Acceptable. I only wish to confirm.”
I shrug, “It’s your job.”
“Hmm, that is so,” Lir taps his finger against the plasteel table, deforming it slightly, though the metal quickly returns to its proper shape the moment Lir stops tapping. “I am discontent with such a short discussion on the miracle you performed.”
“What would you like to discuss further?”
“I...I wish to confirm that the Emperor has no task for us.”
“Ah.” I stare up at the ceiling for a moment to make it look like I require time to think after a small hint from my social prompter. “The Emperor is neither living, nor dead. He simply is. A unique and powerful existence that smaller minds, such as my own, do not have the capacity to truly understand. When His gaze is upon me I see what He wants me to see and understand only what He cares to tell. Like an image, or an emotion, His will has a different interpretation for every faithful who experiences it.”
Lir loses his frown and leans back slightly, staring intently at my face.
I look into his eyes and continue, “It is best to look at this from another angle. The Emperor peered through my eyes at his many sons, your Barghest Chapter. There was no disapproval or fury. He gives no praise for it would be an insult to your duty and faith. He gives no tasks because your path is true. While we are all children to Him, he trusts us to do what is right and necessary for the unity of the Imperium and the greatness of mankind. He holds out his guiding hand when it is needed, not when it is wanted.”
“You are a true believer, Magos.”
“Thank you. I have put much effort into my faith in the Omnissiah and the Machine Cult. It is good to have it recognised by an individual of your repute, Chapter Master Brackin.”
Personally, I think the Emperor just doesn’t give a shit about almost everything. I’ve no desire to become bosom buddies with high velocity plasteel through sharing my views though.
Lir squints at me slightly, then seemingly satisfied with something, gives me a curt nod. “Magos Issengrund, thank you for your interpretation. I will share it with my Chaplins so that they may spread His word among the crew and my many Battle Brothers.”
“Words can’t be taken back, only lost. You are free to do as you wish with my meagre wisdom.”
Lir puts his hands on the bench and stands, “I will show you our vaults myself. Perhaps you will have another insight?”
I smile, “Oh, I never get lucky twice in one day. I dare say the entire universe would become fucked up beyond all recognition if that were to happen!”
“I understand the sentiment. We are no cursed and storied chapter like the Lamenters, but when one rushes from trouble to trouble, it would be a great surprise to find, and highly suspicious, to find anything else. A Tech-Marine might call that confirmation bias, but so long as I am right I do not care.”
I laugh as we return to the Rhino, leaving the grand hall behind.
“Odhran,” I say. “Now would be a good time to make your request of Chapter Master Brackin.”
Lir says, “Oh? How rare. Go ahead, Sergeant.”
“My squad and I wish to remain with Magos Issengrund. We gave our word to protect him after he returned us from death.”
Lir turns around so he can look at everyone in the Rhino properly. “You wish to leave Grave’s Bite so soon? You will remain when the Magos returns to his vessel. Take your squad and meet your new brothers; chat with your old ones. Once you have done so, return to me and tell me your thoughts. I will give my decision then.”
“Yes, Chapter Master.”
“Magos Issengrund, have you tried those Jetbikes?” says Lir.
“I have. They are remarkable machines. I dare say you might enjoy yourself. They are Shamshir Pattern, so don’t let any of the White Scars or their successor chapters learn that you have them. They may fight you for them, probably destroying everything they were hoping for in the process.”
“It’s been a long time since we were forced to fight another chapter. Conflicting orders from alternate commands are always unpleasant to deal with.” We continue our drive for a few more minutes, then Lir says, “Since when were you a Tech-Marine, Sergeant?”
“Magos Issengrund preaches and practises self-improvement. He is generous with his allies so that they may do the same. I am yet to decide if the practice is a subtle way to reduce jealousy and internal strife, or simply a way to gain more skilled workers. He cannot press-gang them from Imperial worlds as he pleases like most captains. Despite his openness, he loves his secrets as much as any other member of his order and his shared knowledge deflects from that.
“Regardless of my thoughts and speculations, I have benefited much from Magos Issengrunds teachings and have exceeded the standards required for a Tech-Marine by a considerable margin. My restored Brothers have neither the knack nor interest to truly follow the arts of the Mechanicus, though you will still find them much more self-sufficient than they were before.”
A pleasant smile crosses Lir’s face. “If you were not keen to leave I would be delighted at how much you have prospered.”
“Yes, Chapter Master.”
“None of that now, though I fear you may have damaged your chances. The poor Magos looks quite put out by your evaluation.”
“You are still my Chapter Master.”
“Indeed I am.”
“Ah, how the tables have turned, E-SIM. It would seem I was correct. The Chapter Master is quite upset about my little stunt in the hangar.”
++You have been called many things, Magos. ‘Political Animal’ is not one of them.++
“I shall take that as a compliment.”
++You are a blunt instrument of change.++
“When one is a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, every problem is a screw and one’s skull is the hammer.”
Lir says, “Magos Issengrund, it is unusual to meet someone who matches me in height and muscle. How did you come to be of such great stature?”
“Some of it is my own work and some changes were wrought by His hand. We are not so different, you and I.”
“You speak of your miraculous transition to a Navigator.”
“Correct, I was only two metres tall before then. Now I am two and a half.”
“There are an awful lot of miracles around you, Magos.”
“Staring at the Warp for weeks at a time, constantly armouring one’s mind to brush off the horrors of the deep Warp, is a duty. I believe it is a rather fitting blessing from the Emperor, though many would call it a curse.”
“They do not know what they speak of.”
“Nor can I speak on the matter to most. They would see it as fanciful tales, or be jealous of my power, forever forgetting that everything has a price.”
“Is that your mercantile philosophy?”
“Oh! I suppose it could be. When one dedicates themselves to a role, they should live and breathe it. We are made in His image. To do any less is to spit upon His grace.”
“Quite.” The Rhino rumbles to a stop. “Magos, are you ready to walk our sacred halls?”
“Honoured, I’d say.”
“Hmm, then we shall linger here no longer.”
We disembark and once again I encounter the greatest bane of any table top adventurer: a locked door. This one is utilitarian, an armoured slab with a core of adamantium alloy. It’s fifteen metres high and ten metres wide, the standard size for any major thoroughfare on an Imperial vessel.
As its antique mechanisms haul the door up, back, and horizontally, it is immediately obvious that the whole vault is armoured in the same manner as the door. Runes glow with power along the inside of the walls and the distinct hum of Field Bracing is obvious to my ears, and tickles the sensors under my Void Skin.
The vault isn’t that large, covering two subdecks in height. It is eighty metres long and fifty metres wide. There are a few piles of loose, scorched, junk near the door, but otherwise everything is safely stowed in armoured and warded chests or armourglass cases.
I smile in appreciation, “That is some proper security.”
“We do not know what everything here does, only that we do not want our enemies to have it. Have a wander, Magos, and tell me what you see.”
I point at a preserved brain, filled with microfilaments and covered in a net of interconnected cogitators, and vox components, “I see you had a run in with one of my more pugnacious brethren.”
“Ah yes, the Cantic Thrallnet. Would you like it, Magos?”
“No thank you.”
“A shame.”
I walk down the right most aisle, “This is like walking through the history of your chapter.” I peer at a circular Eldar grav platform with a curved, coffin-shaped protrusion in the centre. I reach out to it with my mind, but am denied access to the controls. “That’s an Eldar Serpent’s scale. It creates a squad sized mobile shield.”
“That’s what our Tech-Marines thought too, but it is good to have confirmation.”
“You might be able to get it to work if your Librarians and Tech-Marines are willing to collaborate.”
“Could you do it?”
“Eventually,” I say. In truth, it would take me a week or so, but not much more. “Though it would be easier to build my own. The tricky bit would be the power source. It would not draw its power from the Warp or the minds of the squad it protects like the Eldar model does, nor would it save you against esoteric effects like time manipulation, teleportation, or gravity shear weapons.”
“Can the xeno tech do this?”
“With Eldar technology it is easier to ask what it cannot defend against, and for that I have no answer.”
“Hmm. A heavy price in a time of need, perhaps.”
“Your loot, your rules.”
“If only it was that simple.”
I laugh.
At the end of the first row my eyebrows shoot up at the sight of a bolt pistol. It looks perfectly normal, though it is highly decorated. To my esoteric senses though it glows like a fucking sun, and not the rubbish one in this system, but a proper G sequence star like Sol. This thing makes me rather nervous as it could probably kill me quite easily.
I bow towards the bolt pistol, and murmur a short prayer, “Does the Eclesiarchy know you have this?”